Milan has a very clever request

Milan realized that she could spend all day playing twenty questions with these things and trying to figure out why and how they were obeying her—but she was smarter than that.

Her boots could walk. Her gloves could do dishes. How far her whims went wasn’t clear, but if everything in her apartment was as talented with taking directions…

“I’m not sure this is going to make any sense, but I don’t think I have much to lose by asking. I want you all to show me exactly how you’re all just getting up and doing things on your own.”

Maybe it was a trick of the wording—maybe she’d misspoken. Or maybe her belongings were simply so loyal—so enamored with her, so lucky to be in her perfectly-appointed penthouse suite and spending time with her that they simply all wanted to fulfill her new request.

When her rubber gloves from under the sink approached the ventilation exhaust vent, Milan’s black leather gloves stopped them with two raised palms. They pointed at each vent screw, which helpfully spun themselves out of their pilot holes. The vent opened up and hovered out of place. Milan tittered at the interplay as the leather gloves seemed to explain something to the pink rubber gloves with a series of gestures. The pink gloves simply gave a thumbs up when the other pair was done explaining, floating over toward Milan’s bedroom and clapping.

An awed giddiness came over Milan as she watched her smart pair of leather pants wander out of her room. They were followed by an expensive set of Italian lingerie, two pairs of designer jeans, and a PVC jacket.

Now came more gloves, heading right for the open vent again...which is when Milan heard her door buzz open.

“Oh, wait!” She stood up as the line of clothes went out the front door—the unbroken queue stretching back to her room where more clothing was still marching out.

She panicked when they didn’t wait. It seemed to be the first thing they hadn’t obeyed. Maybe she had to wait until they were done...getting something? She had, after all, asked them to show her what gave them their special abilities. If that something was halfway around the world, were all her belongings about to abandon her?

“Wait, wait!” Even as Milan pleaded for it to stop, her expensive wardrobe continued shuffling out of her room and into the hall, guiding a line all the way to the elevator bank now...where she heard a ‘ding’.

She wasn't sure if she should follow the front of the line or try to prevent more from leaving. She looked out the double doors of her apartment, thanking her stars that no one was going into or out of the two presidential suites flanking her penthouse space. Without another moment of hesitation, Milan slipped on a pair of flats and followed. She got to the elevator just in time. It was full of her outfits, but they easily made room for her when she jumped in before the door closed.

“So, um--please, please tell me we’re not leaving?” The clothes parted ways in front of the elevator door, and Milan saw a lighted ‘4’ among all the floor numbers.

A little bit of fear evaporated. A little more curiosity bloomed. What was on the 4th floor?

“Okay, okay--so...I still want you guys to do as I asked, but could you…” Milan thought about her penthouse again and realized she was missing something from earlier. “No. Actually...listen. When we get to the 4th floor, I will give you the all-clear. Don’t leave this thing without my say so.” The outfits didn’t really acknowledge her in any way, so Milan waited for the ding and hoped for the best.

When it happened, her clothes were as still as mannequins. She peeked out at the hall, seeing it empty.

“Lead the way, gang. Just...wherever we’re going, be careful and don’t get me into too much trouble...please?” Milan couldn’t believe she was following her own animated clothes all over her building. She guessed she’d already been spotted by multiple corridor and elevator cameras, but...pragmatically, did that matter?

What was building security going to do about a bunch of ghostly clothes?

The clothes all hooked a left, except for one outfit that stayed behind Milan--a cream blouse and her form-fitting leather pants. Apparently, they were her cover. As she followed the entourage of clothes out of the elevator, the outfit followed her, and the elevator dinged again, apparently returning to the penthouse level.

When they came to a door, Milan wanted to tell her clothing to wait, but the door clicked open all on its own. Milan waited to see the surprised person waiting on the other side, but instead, her black gloves waved.

“How did you--!” A black glove clamped over her mouth. As it slowly pulled away, the other glove held a finger to her lips, as if to get her to keep quiet. Some part of Milan understood enough to comply, and as the rest of the entourage entered the unfamiliar apartment, Milan followed again. She passed a darkened living room illuminated only by a glowing TV, only able to glance at it as they passed into the kitchen.

There was a letter on the table from a company called “Tomorrow Industries”, which Milan scanned through, smiling wide as she did and glancing back at her clothes--beginning to understand the situation. Next to it was a box of...boxes, apparently. One of the little boxes couched inside held dozens of little vials of extremely fine, bright red powder--and there couldn’t have been more than a half-dozen missing from the first open box. Milan’s black leather gloves picked up the case and handed it to her.

“Oh my lovely, lovely girls…” Milan grinned, looking at the powder and imagining the possibilities. “But how did it get in my apartment?” She asked. “Did someone plant it?”

The gloves held up a finger, then turned the corner back out into the darkened living room. Milan followed behind, and as she passed into the television’s glow, she could see the light under the door to the single bedroom. She could hear something over the quiet droning of the television now. It was almost certainly a guy.

And he sounded like he was having a pretty good time.