She's A-okay, apart from the grogginess.

We stand witness as Natalie pries herself off the ground, leaving a small stain of green body paint behind. From her newly seated position, the woman with the 18" biceps casts her dazed gaze over towards me, and braces against the harsh light I'm apparently emanating.

She gawks, and asks, with the grog of awakening still clear in her voice, sounding genuinely shocked, wide-eyed at the sight of me clad in my provocative, angelic regalia, "Is this Heaven? Am I dead?"

"No." Raquel says bluntly.

"Then… is Ahab dead? There's no way he'd ever wear something so, so… revealing."

"I'm alive, Natalie. And please stop staring at me." I beg, shrinking under her uncharacteristically lustful scrutiny; she is devouring me with her eyes, and must love what she's seeing, because two diamond-hard nipples are outlined through the fabric of her snug bandeau.

As I cower, knees turned inwards, with one hand holding my miniskirt down in the front to ensure my 'treasure' remained hidden from Natalie's voracious ogling, I blush, then beg again, "Natalie!" But It doesn't make her stop looking.

Raquel struts up and provides an expedient solution to our friend's staring problem, even if I disagreed with it; a quick slap across the face brings Natalie back to the land of the living, and she shoots back upright, blushing while saying, "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

We stand in an uncomfortable silence for several seconds, not wanting to look each other in the eyes, let alone our scarcely covered bodies, when I, coming down from the humiliation of my own state of undress, recall that fighting game tournament I wanted to attend— the one my sexy, mysterious savior entered. She still needed a proper thank you, right on the lips.

"Hey, guys, I'm gonna ask Alan about that tourney in Hall C, the one that hot guy mentioned— you know, to see if we can go watch it."

"The same one that 'anonymous heroine' you're crushing on went to?" Raquel asks, eyebrow raised in a tease.

"Um, yeah. That one. With her. She saved me, and I want to keep my promise." I say, fidgeting in infatuation.

"If you're willing to walk through half the convention dressed like that, just to see her, you gotta be serious. How bad do you want to kiss her?"

"I don't want to say 'desperately', but desperately is probably the right word."

After that admission of desire, I sheepishly stalk nearer my boss, the way you might if you were asking for seconds at the Last Supper, and begin what is sure to be a long and difficult process: asking to shirk work, and watch other people play video games.

"Excuse me, Alan? I was wondering if we could go attend that tourney—"

"Yes, absolutely."

Oh. That was easy.

"As long as you've all got your costumes on, it qualifies as work, and even if it didn't, I'd still let y'all go." The small man explains, flashing a thumbs up. "Just know that I'm like, excruciatingly envious. I so wanted to see the cosplay tournament!"

A quick cackle escapes Alan's lungs, before he addresses me and my two good friends, "Hall C is thata way, now go enjoy yourselves!"

"Thank you!" We say all at once to our understanding if perhaps soon-to-be overworked overseer, before turning to vacate the video game exhibition booth, my heart beating like an overclocked engine.

Then, not having stepped even thirty feet outside the auspices of our booth, I hear a loud wolf-whistle slice through the din of the bustling convention floor, when I check the harassing sounds origin, I see a woman blowing me a kiss, before she pantomimes groping me 'down there'. The sight of such audacious harassment at the start of our journey to the tourney makes me inadvertently cling to Natalie's puissant body in search of protection, but when she emits a noise not unlike a moan at the contact, I cling instead at arms length to Raquel. Who politely asks me to let go, and I do… after several long seconds.