You wonder if you can find a way to see more of her skin.

Hey, you hear from down in your general crotch area. Hey, I have an idea.

Oh, I'll bet you do, you respond to your id. {if smita_panty_flash == true}Need I remind you, the last time you had an idea, {if smita_dating == true}I ended up in a relationship with someone whose name I don't even know{else}I caused a complete stranger to flash me, and had to desperately fix it before something happened{endif}!{endif}

You think she's really cute, right? You want to see more of her, right? You have to concede that point. So, look, why don't you suggest that the two of you steal off to the bathroom, and she gives you a little show? You can always cause her to forget about it afterward{if smita_panty_flash == true}{if smita_dating == false}, just like you did with Smita{else}, and no hard will be done{endif}{endif}.

You pause to think about that for a second. It does seem like the perfect crime, you say. And I do like boobs.

Why stop at boobs? your id says.

One step at a time, you reply. _Okay. Okay, I'll give it a shot. _What was that thing the changelog said? A specific subvocalization of my intent? You look briefly at Emily, who for the moment has her attention on her computer screen as she logs in, and think: You're gonna come with me to the bathroom and show me those tits of yours. As you sit there, eagerly awaiting her response, she pushes her chair back from her desk, swivels around to face you, leans forward...

...and delivers a right hook square to your nose. It connects dead-on, snapping your head back and causing you to see stars.

"YOU WANNA SAY THAT AGAIN?" she growls at you.

"AAAAGH!" you gurgle, and you aren't sure if it's from the sudden stab of pain, your utter confusion at what just transpired, or the blood that is trickling from your nostril. You grab your nose and pinch it, trying to staunch the flow.

"Look, asshole, just because I get a kick out of teasing people with my neckline doesn't mean I'm gonna go be your personal fucktoy," she continues. "What the fuck is the matter with you? Who the fuck says something like that?"

"AH DINND SAY EDYFINN," you blurt, trying to form words around your damaged nose.

"What?" she responds.

Struggling, you try to enunciate. "I dinnit say eddyfing," you repeat. Confused but still seriously angry, Emily scans the rest of the room. The other students and teacher are all staring at the two of you in shock; some are standing, having jumped out of their seats at the commotion, while others just sit there displaying reactions varying from puzzlement, to horror, to abject amusement.

One of the students closest to you and Emily nods in agreement with your statement. "It's true, he didn't say a word," she confirms.

"But..." Emily stammers. "But I heard... I mean, I'm sure I..." She looks down at her hand, still clenched in a fist, and back up at you, and through your own haze of pain you can tell that she is deeply confused, troubled... and guilty. Son of a bitch, you think, this isn't her fault. If I'd said that to her face she'd have had every right to deck me. But I can't exactly explain it all without revealing the Manipulator...

Shakily, you get to your feet. "Excuse me," you tell Emily and the class, "I'm gudda go find sub tissue for my doze." You turn and walk out of the classroom, towards the bathrooms.

You're a few paces down the hall when you hear Emily call after you. "Wait," she says. You stop, and turn around to face her as she approaches.

She gets close to you, very close, almost threateningly close. Given what she just did to you, your first instinct is to back away, but you hold your ground. She looks right into your eyes, and you notice that they are a fascinating slate gray, sprinkled with little flecks of gold.

"It's Sam, right?" she asks you, and you nod in response. "Look, Sam, tell me the truth. Did you, or did you not, just order me to accompany you to the bathroom and flash my tits at you?"

The school bell rings signifying the start of class. During that time, you ponder your options. If you tell her yes, she'll probably deck you again, and she'll be right to do it. If you tell her no, she'll be mortified that she apparently assaulted you because she's hearing voices. Plus, it would be a goddamned lie. So you sigh, and decide to take the third option. Before you do, you gingerly release your nose, and find to your relief that it's no longer breathing. That will make what you're about to do physically easier, at least, if not emotionally. Finally, the school bell stops ringing. "Well?" Emily says.

"No..." you respond to her, "...and yes."

Her gaze doesn't waver for an instant. "And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" she replies.

"Look, it's complicated." You look to either direction, and see an empty classroom to the left. You point to it, and say "here, let's go in there".

She scoffs. "Alone with you, in an empty room? After what just happened?"

"We'll leave the door open," you emphasize. "I need to sit down and explain this to you, and I don't want to do it in the middle of the hallway."

"Well... fine. I guess you aren't much of a threat anyway, considering you went down with one punch," she reasons, and amazingly the corner of her mouth twitches upward in a tiny smile. She gestures you towards the open door. "You first, Romeo."

You enter the classroom, followed by Emily. She grabs a chair, pushes it in front of the door, and sits down in it, blocking the one escape route out. "Sit and talk," she orders, so you grab another chair, pull it over to face her, and sit down. "Now," she begins, "explain to me what 'no and yes' means".

You let out a weary sigh. "Okay," you begin, trying to figure out how to describe all of this without sounding like a complete lunatic. "First of all, I do apologize. It's true that I didn't tell you to flash me... but I did think it."

"You... thought it," she repeats. You nod, and she continues, "Yeah, that doesn't make any sense. I know I heard your voice, and it was saying those words. I mean, what," she lets out a little snerk despite herself, "do you think I'm going to believe in telepathy or something? Like this was the X-Files or some shit?" At first, you don't say anything in response. You know how ridiculous this sounds; you yourself would never have believed it only two days ago.

"Look," you finally say, after a few seconds. "Can I show you something?"

She scowls again. {if female == true}"Is it your tits?" she grumbles. "I mean, you wanted to see mine so badly, it seems only fair that you return the favor." For a moment -- a brief moment -- you ponder just lifting up your shirts and giving her an eyeful, such as it is... but you don't want to derail things further.{else}"I swear to God, if it's your dick, you're getting a fucking boot right in it," she threatens. You don't doubt her sincerity, her aim, or her strength, but this time it's you who can't help but snerk.{endif}

"No, no, it's on my arm," you explain. Using your right hand, you roll your left sleeve up, until the Manipulator is revealed, its dim yet somehow vibrant light glowing a greenish hue. You can tell that Emily is attempting to maintain a look of annoyed nonchalance on her face, but her interest is betrayed by a slight widening of her eyes. "This... thing... is called a Manipulator. I received it yesterday, in a package with no return address. Just a note from someone signed 'P.K.', addressed to me specifically, explaining what it does, and that he 'trusts me'."

Emily still looks interested, but you can't tell if she believes a word of what you're saying. "And, so... what? The thing lets you speak telephatically with people?" she asks. "So you decided to test it out by some good old-fashioned sexual harrassment?"

You blush, sheepish, and drop your head. "Uh... not exactly," you respond. "It doesn't transmit thoughts... not really... it, well... manipulates minds." Her eyes grow a fraction wider at this. There's no anger left in her face right now -- although you're sure it's still in there, waiting -- just growing curiosity, tinged with a healthy dose of suspicion. You continue, "At first, the damned thing was going off with every stray thought I had, and people just started doing the stuff I wished they'd do. Then some sort of 'update' happened to it, and now I have to explicitly 'think' a sentence at a person."

"But--" Emily starts to say.

"But it didn't work on you," you interrupt her, anticipating her objection, and she nods. "No, it didn't. Instead, you just 'heard' what I wanted, and that's it, and I don't know why. That hasn't happened before." You bow your head. "Again, I'm sorry. I'm a curious and horny person. It's wrong, and I know it's wrong."

You don't hear anything for a little while, but you keep your head down. Let her process all of this, you think, and decide for herself. Finally, she speaks. Just two small words.

"Prove it."

You raise your head and look at her. She sits, her arms crossed, a stern and busty judge waiting to deliver your sentence. So you do. You focus, and think: You want to forgive me. The effect on her is immediate, as you see her gasp softly, amazement on her face. And then, another hint of a smile. "That's a bit presumptuous of you, wouldn't you say?" she asks.

You reply with a game smile of your own. "I figured it couldn't hurt to try."

Emily breathes in deeply, purses her lips, and blows out in a semi-raspberry. "Damn... this is some shit," she observes, and you can't help but nod in agreement. "Look... I'm still pretty pissed off that you tried to screw with my head just so you could get your jollies. But it's nice to know that, for whatever reason, you can't fuck with me. Sam... you don't have to resort to that shit." She leans in slightly, as though sharing some sort of secret, despite the two of you sitting alone, in an empty classroom. "Why do you think I sat next to you in the first place? I've watched you in class, and you're obviously smart. The few times that you've spoken up, you've seemed kind and personable. And you're fucking hilarious!"

"Wait, what?" you reply. "How would you know that?"

She breaks out into a genuine grin. "You're {if female==true}Hitomi80{else}Dryden80{endif}, aren't you? In #anime on IRC? Look, don't try to deny it, there aren't exactly a lot of people in this town with dialup connections that are running 24/7. A little WHOIS of your address, and some mild social engineering at the ISP is all it took."

You're utterly speechless, and more than a little disturbed that your online identity could be uncovered so easily. "So you... you... who in the channel are you?" you ask in reply.

She shakes her head, smiling wider, with just a hint of subtle mischief. "Sorry, that's a secret -- and you won't be using your little gizmo to make me cough it up, either!" Then she stands up. "Come on... we should get back to the classroom." You stand up as well, but she doesn't move out of the doorway immediately.

"Sam," she says, "I can't make you promise not to use that thing. It's not my call. Just... if you do, be careful, alright?"

{if smita_dating == true}You consider whether to tell her that you've already used it to accidentally make a girl think that the two of you are intimate and dating, but decide it's probably not a good time for that right now.

{endif}"I'll try," you reply, and you really do mean it.

"Okay," she says, and starts to walk out the door. "And hey, don't give up," she says over her shoulder, winking. "Like I said... you don't need that thing."