All your crying don't do no good, come on up to the house

Nick headed out to go meet up with Sylvia (he wanted to get there early, regardless of what Nola had told him) but Morgana lingered behind in the Master’s Suite for a little while, to help Mary and Holly clean up.

Once that was done, though, and there was no longer any excuse to stay, Morgana reluctantly headed for the elevator.

Mary followed after her.

“Is everything alright?” She asked, sensing something was amiss. Morgana had been behaving absentmindedly all morning. “Does it have anything to do with last night? I know there were some intense emotions going around…”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that!” Morgana said hastily, waving her hands. “It’s just… a missed opportunity, that’s all.”

She sighed and showed Mary the back of her hand, with the number “99” emblazoned upon it.

Mary held back the amused smirk that wanted to break out across her face.

“Oh, is that all?” She said with a giggle. “You’re sad you missed out on getting to 100 Victory Points? Aww, Morgana!”

“I was so close!” Morgana groaned, digging her toe in the carpet, frustrated. “I mean… Rose and Kim… they’ve both got to 100 VP already, but me… if I had just kept my wits about me and managed to do one other new thing with Nick, then… I would have been over the threshold too…”

She was thinking back to the day before, and how her fifth spell had gone awry and swapped their bodies. If she’d been clearheaded enough to grope her own breasts, meager as they were, while Nick was in her body, would that have counted? Would she have gotten that super-rare 2 BP for touching Nick’s breasts?

Well, she’d never know now, because she’d vowed never to use that spell again, to never even speak of it.

Mary shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” she assured Morgana, wary that the goth girl was about to burst into tears. “I understand why you’re worried,” she said sympathetically, “but remember what we talked about last night, about comparing yourself with others? There’s no need to hold yourself up to my standard, and that goes for Rose and Kim as well. They both have different relationships with Nick than you or I have, everyone is loved in their own way.”

Morgana stared at Mary in amazement. When the two of them had first met, she’d clocked Mary as a well-meaning, kind-hearted, but ultimately possessive woman, noting her determination to be Nick’s “real” wife and even monopolize him for herself due to her belief in monogamy. But over time, since marrying him, and even before, she’d begun to open up to feelings of love and affection, being willing to share him with the other girls, and now Mary was hardly recognizable from back then.

It was so amazing, how she could be so cool and confident in herself. And- even though Morgana had more than learned her lesson from the night before- she couldn’t help but be envious.

She smiled a sheepish smile. “…Thanks, Mary,” the goth girl murmured, nodding gratefully to her friend. “You really helped put things in perspective… really, thank you.”

Mary blinked, then she beamed at her friend. “Well, of course!” She chirped. “I’m glad to lend a kind ear to anyone who needs guidance, Morgana. That’s what the Bible encourages for us. As long as you’re feeling lost or in need of a kind ear to listen, don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

She reached out and placed her hand over Morgana’s, covering the number. “This… it doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “The only thing that matters is… this.”

Mary took her other hand and touched Morgana’s breast, right over her heart. Morgana blushed, knowing that Mary didn’t mean her boobs, but her feelings, and didn’t say anything.

“99 VP is more than I managed to get, you know,” Mary reminded the other girl. “I was already married to him, and I was only in the 70’s.”

Morgana nodded timidly. That was true. Although, she had no doubt that Mary would still be comfortably in the lead with over 100 VP now, if she had remained in the competition.

“Thank you,” she said, taking her hand back and clutching it over her chest. “That… really helps put things in perspective, Mary.”

Mary blushed. Even her strong will wasn’t enough to fully resist the effects of Morgana’s Sotto Voce transformation, and she found her heart straining with desire as her body naturally grew aroused by the goth’s voice.

Her nipples throbbed impatiently and she fought the urge to milk herself right in front of the younger woman. Now was absolutely not the time.

“You know,” she said slyly, her urges momentarily getting the better of her, “if you’re serious about getting to 100 VP, you could always coax Nick into marrying you. That would be more than enough. Or even let yourself get-”

“No, that’s okay!” Morgana hastily interrupted Mary before the word “pregnant” could pass her lips. She knew what the pigtailed girl was about to suggest, and she wasn’t having any of it! With a quick shake of her head she felt her face heat up, and tried not to let her voice crack back to its normal tone as she replied, “I-I’m only 18! It’s way too early for… for m-marriage,” she mumbled by the end, knowing Mary meant a lot more than that.

Mary blinked, and fought back the grin. “…You’re right, of course,” she conceded with a slight nod. “It’s too early for… that.”

Of course, her own beliefs advocated for getting married as soon as possible, in order to get started on having sex and making babies. That was the good Christian thing to do, of course. But devout as she was, she of course had to make allowances for the other women and their own beliefs.

Besides- she was Nick’s real wife, anyway. As nice as the image of everyone marrying him may have been, legally-speaking it was unlikely to hold up when they got back to earth- not that her own wedding was an exception to that, of course.

Unless maybe…

…That wasn’t the point though. Not right now, anyway. She was trying to make Morgana feel better, not focus on herself!

“I… I should probably get going,” Morgana said, scratching the back of her neck. Things were starting to feel a little awkward between the two of them.

It only got more awkward, though, when Mary followed her into the elevator. Morgana looked at her with a surreal expression on her face, and Mary shrugged.

“What?” The redhead asked innocently.

“Uh, it’s just… I didn’t expect you to follow me…” Morgana’s face reddened, feeling a little ashamed. The way she’d said that, it sounded like she wasn’t happy Mary was accompanying her, like she was trying to get away!

But Mary didn’t seem to take it that way. “I’m not,” she replied. “I have my own business to take care of, actually!”

Morgana looked curiously at her, intrigued in spite of herself. “Really?” She asked. “With… one of the other girls?”

Mary shook her head. “It’s… private business, actually.” She reached up and fingered the cross dangling from her neck, nestled right into her milk-filled bosom. “I’m going to go pray.”

Her face lit up. “Morgana, would you like to come with me?” She asked hopefully. “We could pray together!”

Morgana made a strained expression. That sounded absolutely awful, if she was being honest. “No… that… that’s alright,” she said, shaking her head quickly. “I, uh… I… I need to get changed, out of your clothes…”

“I can wait!” Mary said, not backing down in the slightest.

Morgana sighed. So much for beating around the bush, then…

“…I’m not… a Christian,” she reminded Mary gently. “Remember? The whole witch thing? Ring any bells?”

Mary’s face fell. “Right… yeah, I almost forgot…” Morgana was usually such a sweet person that Mary consciously ignored the fact that she worshipped Satan. …And it didn’t hurt that Morgana didn’t really worship Satan, either. It was blindingly obvious to everybody that Morgana was far more drawn to the aesthetic of a gothic witch than actually upholding any satanic beliefs.

Regardless, the elevator ride was now awkward on both fronts, and when the doors opened and Morgana stepped out, they were both relieved.

“Good… good luck,” Morgana said over her shoulder. “With the, um, church stuff. Good luck!”

“Right,” Mary nodded gratefully. “Thank you. Um, good luck with… getting that last Victory Point! …Oh, but today’s for Sylvia!” She hastily reminded the other girl. “So, um, don’t… don’t interrupt, okay? Please?”

Mary remembered the resolute look on her husband’s face when Nick left the Master’s Suite this morning. She could just feel it in the air, today was going to be very important for him, and the last thing she wanted to do was ruin it.

Morgana nodded and the doors closed between the two of them, finally leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She wasn’t alone for long, though, as when she returned to her room, she found that Amelia was still there.

“You’re back,” Amelia said, looking up from her book. She adjusted her glasses and stood up. “Your date?”

Morgana guessed that Amelia was asking her how the date with Nick went, and she opened her mouth to reply but Amelia cut her off.

“…I don’t need details,” the older woman clarified, causing Morgana to blush.

“It, um… it… was really nice,” she fidgeted. “Really, really nice…”

Amelia raised her eyebrow. Considering that Morgana was wearing clothes that so white the teacher doubted she’d be caught dead in, something significant had certainly happened between them. Wonderful.

The last thing she needed was the mental image of her stepson tearing another woman’s clothes right off her body…

Morgana shot a furtive glance towards her closet, **** to change, but paralyzed by her curiosity. She couldn’t help but wonder why was Amelia still here? The teacher had a very strict schedule most of the time. Wake up, get prepared (with lots of coffee, ick) go to breakfast, then go tutor Augmented Synthetic Humanoid Assassin. That had been her routine this entire round, ever since she’d been assigned to tutor the assassin by her transformation and realized just how lacking the uneducated woman really was.

So… what changed?

“Don’t, um…” Morgana caught herself before she just blurted it out. “Are… are you having a late day in?” She asked politely instead, trying not to sound too nosy.

Amelia blinked behind her glasses and raised her eyebrow.

“…Yes,” she bluntly replied.

Whelp. Maybe nosiness had its merits, then, because that was a great conversation killer.

“I-I see…” Morgana slowly circled around her roommate, trying to look casual as she headed for the closet.

Amelia’s eyes followed her. Her expression was unreadable most of the time, but Morgana found that, today, it seemed a little… revealing.

Like there was something behind those eyes of hers.

As the room slowly filled with awkward tension, Morgana decided there was no sense in holding back, and just came right out and asked, “So… you’re not… teaching Augmented Synthetic Humanoid Assassin today…?”

The way Amelia’s eyes flickered answered the part of the question Morgana didn’t ask. Oh yeah, there was definitely something going on there, behind those eyes. An uneasy feeling welled up in her breast and she bit her lip.

“I-I don’t mean to pry, I just…”

“Concerned?” Amelia cut to the heart of the matter, knowing how much of a worrier Morgana could be. “There is no need.”

She shook her head.

“There was an incident.” Amelia didn’t elaborate on what that incident was, of course. She saw no need to. Yes, it left Morgana overflowing with confusion, but, well, it wasn’t really her place to pry into these matters anyway, right?

Chewing on her lip, Morgana stood her ground and tried to smile.

“W-well… that… that’s too bad…”

“It’s only temporary,” Amelia assured her. “…I did not believe I would be of any use right now.”

Well, if there was an award for cryptic statements, the Englishwoman definitely would have won it, Morgana thought. She had no idea what Amelia meant by being “of any use” and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know, either.

Not wanting to pry any further (and not wanting to talk too much in case her transformation resulted in what it always did) Morgana decided to drop it, grabbed her change of clothes from the closet, and went to the bathroom to slip into something more comfortable.

By the time she came back out, Amelia was gone.

“Amelia?” Morgana looked around curiously. Her heart sank a little. She hadn’t been THAT long, so the teacher must have fled as soon as she’d stepped away… that wasn’t exactly a nice feeling to have in your chest, was it?

But Morgana shook those thoughts aside and bundled up her borrowed clothes tightly to her chest, and went to go pay Emmy a visit. She had to thank the other girl for lending them to her!

…She just hoped that Emmy was in her room. Or, well, in her mom’s room. And not at breakfast.

And for once, something went right today! Emmy WAS in the Garden Suite, much to Morgana’s delight. Curiously, though, she was alone. Obviously Sylvia was off on her date with Nick, but…

“Where’s your mom?” Morgana couldn’t help but ask as she handed Emmy her clothes back.

Emmy’s eyes widened and she stared at the other girl with a look on her face that Morgana knew all too well.

It was the look she imagined a deer would have on its face as it froze in front of the headlights of an incoming car.

She’d seen it in the mirror countless times.

“I, uh… y-you’re welcome for the clothes,” Emmy said hastily, her cheeks reddening. Morgana started to panic. She’d just begun to become friends with Emmy, the last thing she wanted was to ruin that friendship!

“I-I’m sorry for prying!” She blurted out frantically. “I-I was just… worried, that… that’s all… since usually you guys are always together, so…”

She was babbling. She really needed to stop doing that.

Emmy looked tensely at her, then she shook her head. “No, uh… we… we aren’t… always together,” she said lamely, knowing that Morgana was right. Obviously something was up- Emmy was just too embarrassed to say what it was!

She sighed.

“…Look, um… it’s really not a big deal,” she assured Morgana. “It’s just… last night some stuff happened, and I… I told my mom that I needed some space, that’s all. …But I still love her! It’s not like we had a fight or anything like that! I just… need some time for myself, that’s all.”

Morgana’s mouth opened into a round little “O” and she slowly nodded, understanding perfectly. “Yeah, that… you’re totally right,” she stammered out. “I… I felt the same way, with… with my mom.”

Emmy stifled a little giggle. “Well… I guess we’re just a pair of rebellious teens, then,” she joked, awkwardly laughing along with Morgana.

Neither girl really knew what to say to one another, so they just awkwardly laughed.

On the topic of rebellious daughters…

“What’s the matter, Daddy?” Sylvia skipped in front of him and placed her hands on her hips. “You’re so shy all of a sudden! I appreciate the compliments about my new look, but you don’t have to act like I’m fragile or anything!”

She giggled and shook her head, making her purple ponytail bounce. “I’m a lot more perceptive than you give me credit for,” she said, placing her hand on her hip. “I know exactly why you’re so worked up right now!”

“…Oh, really?” Nick asked dryly, not sure what Sylvia was getting at. After all, not even he was completely sure why he was acting the way he was. Something was off about Sylvia, and he didn’t know what.

So he was walking on eggshells, trying to have a good time while avoiding saying the wrong thing.

“It’s because my skirt is too short… or no, it’s my midriff, isn’t it?” Sylvia traced the hem of her shirt playfully, circling her fingers around her bellybutton. “Well, sorry Daddy, but the audience has spoken… I can’t wear anything more modest than this even if I wanted to!”

Nick raised his eyebrow. He could tell when Sylvia was messing with him, even when she was behaving weirdly like she was today. “…No,” he said, shaking his head. “Nothing to do with that, I promise you.”

Sylvia pouted. “Oh, darn… and here I was hoping you’d fallen for my feminine wiles… I suppose I’ll have to try again…”

She was so chipper. That was it, really. Sylvia being perky was nothing new, but it felt like she was dialing things up to 11 right now.

And while Nick was fine with that… he was concerned about the underlying reasoning behind her actions.

“Sylvia, if something is bothering you, you can tell me,” he said gently, stepping closer. “You don’t have to beat around the bush like this.”

Sylvia blinked. For a second, a serious expression flickered across her face before her smile turned back up, and she batted her eyelashes. “Something bothering me?” She asked coyly. “Whatever could that be, Daddy?”

So she was going to keep leading him on like this, huh? Not a great way to start their date, that was for sure.

Nick now found himself stuck between two options. He could drop the issue and pretend like everything was normal, or he could keep pushing and probably mess everything up.

Well… it was just his nature to do the latter, wasn’t it? It was like a curse.

“I want to enjoy my date with you,” he said seriously, stepping closer and taking her hands into his. “But I can’t do that if I feel like you’re not having fun. And right now, I can’t be sure if you are or not.”

Sylvia stared deeply into his eyes, finally silent. No teasing, no playful laugh, no “Daddy” just a moment of pure, pristine silence.

“…I am having fun,” she finally said. “I’m allowed to have fun with you, Daddy. At long last… I don’t have to worry.”

She took a step back and placed both of her hands over her chest, letting out a swooning sigh of relief.

Then she opened those deep, blue eyes of hers.

“Mom said it was okay. She said I could be with you. So I’m not going to hold back anymore.”

Sylvia was smiling right down to her eyes. Any doubt Nick still had about whether or not she was having fun was snuffed out in an instant.

But he still found himself questioning the other emotions he saw in that smile… and wondering what exactly had happened between Dakota and Sylvia when he wasn’t looking.

Mary stood alone in the church, gazing up at the altar with silent reverence. She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes to pray. But she’d barely gotten started when she heard the creak of the door to the chapel opening behind her.

Her face lit up. “Morgana!” She gushed, turning around. “You changed your… mind?”

But it wasn’t Morgana who stepped into the church, pale skin and midnight hair framed by the glow of the stained glass.