Get cozy

"I ... could see more leotards."

She handed some over. "Go for it!" she said -- rather sexily, he thought.

TOLDJA I COULD RESCULPT REALITY said the voice. NICE, HUH? DON'T WORRY, JUST LIKE YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO HEARS ME, YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO REMEMBERS HER ANY DIFFERENT.

"You're just a dream!" Gunnar hissed, he hoped quietly.

DEEP DOWN, YOU ALWAYS KNEW DIFFERENT. DON'T ACT SURPRISED; IN FACT, GET IN TOUCH WITH YOUR DESIRES AND YOU'LL BE LESS SURPRISED. FACE IT, YOU'RE A BREAST MANIAC. I CAN BOOST HER EVEN MORE.

"You've done quite enough -- Oh!"

Gunnar froze as Buffy tentatively pushed the curtain aside. Somehow, the sweet young girl suddenly had the classic mature bosom of a Sophia Loren under her clingy pullover.

"I'm sorry, I know it's rude and unprofessional, but I thought I heard arguing ... "

"Oh! I talk to myself, bad habit ... "

Their voices faded as Buffy studied the dramatic bulge down Gunnar's left thigh.

"It's not really for costuming," Gunnar confessed. "I'm cannicalizing these for underwear, I figure under big dark baggy pants."

"I don't know it you're funning me ... but either way ... it's kind of hot! I ... think I'll just go wait outside."

Gunnar brought out his selection and noticed a form waiting for him on Buffy's counter. "What's this?"

"We can give customers special emergency service if they leave us basic information, like their address and phone number."

Gunnar felt warmed by Buffy's evidently pleased smile as he filled out the form. He accepted a business card along with the receipt. "Thanks for your discretion!"

"And thank you for yours -- Mr. Hart!"

Gunnar felt quite heady walking through the mall -- then realized, as he looked the business card over, that what appeared to be a personal phone number had been penned on the other side.