Sierra couldn’t have imagined herself being more embarrassed in her life, and there was a relief in believing that this was the worst it could get. That peak was soon surpassed, however, when Sierra found herself laying underneath a microscope. Her eyes were shut for much of the examination, but she couldn’t resist taking a glance beyond the microscope and up at the colossal overseer at its helm. The pressure was very real, to be looked at so finely by someone that towered over her. Not exactly the attention I wanted, she thought, but… it isn’t terrible…

Along with observing the injury, Duval also made notes of the circumstances on a tablet beside her. Using a pair of tweezers with padded ends, she made soft and subtle adjustments to Sierra’s arm -- a normal procedure made bizarre with their size difference. “It hurts to flex your fingers, you said?”

“J-Just a bit, yeah,” Sierra nervously replied. After a near-death experience, her wound didn’t require much exaggeration. “It feels sprained.”

“That’s what I imagine it to be,” Duval concluded, rising up from the microscope with a sigh but also a smile. “Thank goodness it wasn’t worse. You had me-- everyone, really, worried that you had gotten more seriously hurt. You can step down from there now,” she said, backing away from the microscope.

Sierra was fond of moving away from the eerie device and back into the openness of the desk space. She carefully climbed down the microscope’s platform, one hand tight around the knot keeping her towel in place. “I didn’t want to worry anyone,” she said, genuine guilt in her tone. “I’m sorry, I-I know I’ve been a lot of trouble.”

“It’s not a problem, Sierra,” Duval giggled, intentionally keeping the mood light. “I’m happy you’re okay, that’s most important. We’ll keep an eye on your arm over these next couple weeks to make sure it isn’t something worse. But…” Duval’s shoulders slumped, knowing the question ahead wasn’t quite necessary, but something she wished to know. “... Why did you jump? That was quite a long fall. Did it seem shorter to you?”

Sierra nodded with Duval filling in a decent excuse for her. “Yeah, th-that’s mostly it,” she agreed, but the tickle to say more, to be more honest, racked at her to do just that. “I was in a hurry… I didn’t want to disappoint you, or keep anyone waiting. I was excited having that lead for so long, I… got ahead of myself.”

Duval giggled again. “Was the cheesecake too alluring for you?” Her expression was coy and playful. “Couldn’t resist?”

Sierra blinked, having forgotten all about the dessert itself. “Yeah, I get crazy for cheesecake.”

Duval brightened up like the rising sun, and Sierra felt such positivity from where she stood. “Then do I have good news for you~” Duval rolled her chair across the office to another corner where atop a filing cabinet was a black, covered dish. She rolled back with graceless steps, a sight Sierra thought was both humorous and adorable. Duval returned to the desk and pushed aside the keyboard, an achievement so simple for her that Sierra could never accomplish. Then, set onto the desk was the dish, which Sierra could peek into. As she had began to suspect, inside was a slice of cheesecake, missing just a forkful of a bite.

“There was plenty to go around to the winners of the race,” Duval said, “obviously. Poor Kendall was too concerned for you to even take her prize, though. So, I had to assure her I’d donate her portion to you. Something sweet to eat always helps me get well sooner.”

Sierra nervously giggled. “I-Is that true?” she idly asked, watching quietly as Duval used a fork to cut out a slither of the cake. “I’d feel bad, though, I-I don’t deserve this.”

“I insist! You worked really hard out on the obstacle course today. I’d feel even worse just putting you back home without something to cheer you up.” Duval searched her desk for something that wasn’t there. “Ah… I didn’t think to bring a plate for you… Well. Then, I suppose you can just take a bite from here.”

The fork was lowered right down to Sierra, bringing with it the crumb of cheesecake. Sierra took a side of the fork into one hand, but froze from there. The fact was transparently there, that this fork had been used by Duval herself to eat the bite that was missing. It seemed like part joke, part dream, but it was genuinely being offered to her, insisted upon by Duval.

Not wanting to reject a gift, much less one of this degree, Sierra hesitantly pushed her head forward and took a bite. The sugary taste was strong but not what overtook Sierra’s mind. She could only think of the scene happening then, how she was eating from Duval’s fork -- being fed by the overseer. She choked, politely excusing herself as simply having taken too big a mouthful, and she pulled away from the fork. Duval took no offense, delighted that her dessert was being appreciated.

“Did you enjoy it?” Duval asked eagerly.

Sierra swallowed, then answered, “Yes, it’s-- great, it was really good. Did you--?”

“Make it myself?” Duval pointed to herself. “Yes I did actually! Hehe, it was a new recipe. I’ve been trying to pick up making desserts, you see, but I still have a long way to go.”

“Oh, ohh, it was perfect,” Sierra blushed, her answer needing to be better. “Wow, y-you-- it came out wonderful! Err, thank you! I-I still don’t think I deserved that…”

Duval hummed a pleasant tone, persistent that Sierra earned the treat. She set the fork and cheesecake aside onto another corner of her desk, and while her arm was there, she leaned into it for a more relaxed position, her chin neatly fitted into her hand while looking down at Sierra. The tiny woman was opposite of her, fidgeting backwards several steps while keeping the towel up high on her chest.

“Don’t fall off,” Duval gently warned, almost a tease. She could see it when Sierra didn’t, the chance she clumsily stumbles backwards and off the desk. Sierra hopped forward, checking behind herself and feeling more fragile with the overseer watching her.

“Th-Thanks, I-I’ll just… sit down,” Sierra nervously replied, doing just that onto her knees.

“Please, relax,” Duval suggested with a perk to her smile. “If you don’t mind, I just had one last question, Sierra. It’s just a hunch, but this… whole thing, with the obstacle course… it was more than just about cheesecake?”

The more serious tone took Sierra off-guard, demanding her to be on edge all over again, just because of a simple question. She looked aside, stroke her cheek in though while searching for a good reply. “R-Right,” she vaguely answered. Honesty, she decided, was a better approach. “Well, a little more than that.”

As Duval’s grin remained, Sierra felt encouraged. Duval pressed more, “You were working especially fast on this course today. No one really takes them too seriously -- hence the cheesecake. Was there some other reason you were disappointed to having not won?”

Sierra nodded, giggling under submission but internally ravaged with awkwardness. Her heart was unsettled, She’s reading me like a book, isn’t she? She’s a fucking scientist, d-did I think I was going to outwit her? “Yeah… There was also… something else, um…”

“Mhmm? You can tell me anything, Sierra, I’m here to help-- totally confidential. If it’s about your neighbors, you can tell me, or if it’s about being shrunk! I can help you understand that, or if it’s about, well, if it’s about me--”

“I-I wanted to impress you,” Sierra admitted. She blinked, physically feeling the weight thrown off her shoulders, but still fatigued by what baggage was still upon her. For now, she had to spill as much as that; “I thought, maybe, putting on a good performance would… it would get you to notice me. I’ve been…” Her fingers crawled, like a twitch of pain. “I suppose it’s been… lonely.”

Duval listened closely, her expression stiff and patient. “I see,” she quietly remarked. “You wanted some of my attention?”

Sierra flinched at those precise words. For a moment, she wondered if the overseer knew how deep a fantasy she withheld. “A bit,” she tersely replied.

Duval nodded, her smile creeping longer with a suppressed giggle. “I see,” she still quietly remarked. “I can completely understand, Sierra. It wasn’t a guarantee that everyone would be, well, friends with one another in the community. From what I’ve observed, it at least seems like you and Kendall have gotten along well.”

“... Observed?” Sierra wondered about that. She remembered that the outside of the community was always monitored by surveillance cameras, both big and small, but she had yet to think she herself would actually be watched specifically. “You’ve noticed that? Y-You’ve been watching?”

“Of course,” Duval plainly said. “Studying the community’s behavior and movements and actions, it’s all part of the project.”

Sierra shivered, brushing the gesture off as a chill in the air. There was a new idea in her head of how omniscient the overseer was, as well as the tickling thought that she wasn’t passing under Duval’s observations. All along, she was being tracked, at least to that degree.

“But I suppose Kendall might not be exactly your type of personality to bond with,” Duval continued, no longer resting upon the desk. “Prolonged isolation could have dire effects, so I would recommend trying to socialize a little more with the others. Make some plans, hopefully find someone to open up to more. In the meantime, you can always talk to me! We’ll have plenty of time to chat during your check-ups from now.”

“Check-ups?” Sierra perked up slightly. She thought that she was mistaken, but it was true that Duval was making plans for them to see each other more.

“Yes, I’ll want to keep a close eye on you,” Duval giggled. “You’re the first person in the community to suffer a serious injury. Fortunately, it wasn’t seriously serious, but normal recovery has a chance of being less effective while in a shrunken state. Studying the healing process could provide some useful data for when-- err, if something else happens to someone.”

Sierra fidgeted with intrigue, restraining herself from being too emotional. “So, uh, when w-would we meet again?”

“How about tomorrow, and then every other day after that?” Duval suggested. “Just thirty minutes each session, until it seems like your arm has improved to a normal condition again. I hope that isn’t too much trouble, constantly being pulled out of the community--”

“Th-That’s fine,” Sierra agreed, as though the arrangement could have slipped away if she didn’t agree fast enough. “That… works out for me. I don’t mind.” It was a deceptively mundane reply when in truth, Sierra was internally erupting over this outcome, still comprehending that she and the overseer would be meeting privately all throughout the week.

“That’s good to hear! We can meet up tomorrow in the afternoon. In the meantime,” Duval pointed crookedly to Sierra’s arm, “do try to get that bandaged up when you get home. Ask someone for help, if you need it.”

Sierra nodded quickly. “Absolutely, I-I will.”

Duval rose from her chair, satisfied with all that had been discussed. She stretched as she did, unknowingly boasting a massive flex above Sierra as she pushed her shoulders and arms back. Then, she retrieved a minuscule item from her coat pocket which she unpinched in front of Sierra. It was her gym bag, her clean clothes from earlier tumbled inside. “Let’s return you home so you can do just that.”

Sierra hurriedly changed into her normal attire so that she could savor these last few moments with the overseer. Duval carried her directly back to the glass cage that was the neighborhood, a conversationless voyage that Sierra was ecstatic to experience. She was in Duval’s palm in the open air -- no reinforced steel walls of a trailer; no latex glove that covered the entire hand; no adrenaline-rushed nudity. It was the skin of Duval’s palm with no barrier between them, just the ridges of the hand and the mounds of small muscles, surrounded by long and dexterous fingers, and the rhythm of every footfall. Sierra sat higher than usual, her wet hair drying in the bellows of wind, like gusts at the peak of a mountain, a mountain she had painstakingly hiked to its peak.

And the path down from that achievement had to be taken. The high Sierra was on concluded with Duval lowering her down into the community, politely in front of her house. The simulated sky had shifted orange to match a setting sun, closing out the eventful day. Sierra departed and watched as the elevator-palm flew away from the street, stopping just past the transparent wall so that it could wave down at her. Sierra lifted her uninjured arm in a wave back, and Duval smiled farewell.

Not allowing Sierra to just stare into the distance forever, Kendall came rushing towards her lot from next door. “Sierra! You’re back!” she exclaimed, hopping against the fence that separated their yards. “The overseer said you were fine, b-but I was a little worried she could have been lying! Just to keep us calm, you know!”

Sierra was overwhelmed with this burst of energy. But she smiled, readjusting the strap of her bag. “I am fine, fortunately, j-just a sprained arm. I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow, I need to get some rest after everything.” She began for the door, but her pace slowed just before opening it. Kendall had been fine with that answer, but Sierra wasn’t; “Actually, I’ll call you tonight. Are you free?”

I made plans with a friend, Sierra thought upon entering her home. Finally, she was secluded, and she could exhale and breathe, just like Duval wanted. So… I deserve to be alone…

Sierra passed every light without turning them on, remaining in the dimness of her silent house. She slugged to her bedroom, closing and locking even that door behind her, and dropped the gym bag onto the bed. Her fingers shivered at the zipper, but the bag was opened, and beneath the mud-stained clothes was a white towel. The white towel from before, smuggled out of the emergency station, but most vitally of all, it was the white towel, Sierra specifically thought, that Duval had stepped on.

With almost no delay, Sierra was clutching the towel against her face. Her body melted onto the mattress, she bounced with unrestrained giggles while the towel was tossed over her upper body. Her fingers ran over the squashed material, the fabric flattened so thin after such an enormous weight was summoned upon it. Duval had pressed this innocent towel into something slightly better than paper, a fact that had Sierra rolling with arousal. Between her flushed cheeks blossomed a dumb and unabashed smile, sweetened with a mischievous satisfaction.

After a second session with herself finally came the hard reality of exhaustion. Sierra collapsed where she was on the bed, half-wearing whatever clothes remained from before. Her clumsy grin had relaxed into a genuine smile, a warm and sincere expression. There were plans to look forward to that night, but the tomorrow of her life resonated with anticipation, now that overseer Duval could so clearly be seen waiting for her there.