Dad's sweatshirt was heavy, and worse, scked towards one end, leaving a generous portion of her shoulders peeking. The jogging pants, they just sagged. Even before, Dad's frame was not rge or hulking but well toned, with muscles and sinews, that Dad's clothes would have never made a perfect fit. Marcel's pants would have easily slipped.

  Thankfully, Ruby's hips were wide enough for the waistline to settle. Not perfect. They still sagged. Abominably. Dangerously low enough for the curves of the butt to show up. Only the oversized sweatshirt of Dad covered her modesty. That notion actually filled her with warmth. Knowing that something of Dad still offered a measure of protection. There was comfort in that thought.

  When she came down, Mom already waited by the front door, car keys swinging idly between fingers. As though sensing her arrival, she raised her gaze. Her judging eyes raked from head to toe, and then a controlled smile settled.

  Looking at Mom, it was impossible not to feel underdressed.

  The three-piece suit she wore only accentuated her coldness. Morgane could easily pass for a high-profile wyer or a ruthless CEO. Not the suit itself, but the way Mom carried herself in it. Her body nguage was distinctly cold, each step carried with sharpness. When she squared her shoulders, she did it so purposefully that the sharpness of roped shoulder pads emphasised her gestures. Then Mom turned to the door, teasingly slow, drawing attention towards her pert derriere held tight and wonderfully punctuated by form-fitting scks. All because Morgane possessed supreme awareness regarding her effect upon people.

  When she tilted her neck, a host of all things suggestive and coy coalesced on her smile. "Darling, are you going to follow or just stand there gawking?"

  Mom waited while Ruby tried her brown shoes, and found it an ill fit.

  "Try those Mary Jane shoes." Mom pointed, smiling. "Might bite your ankles, but bear with it, darling. Soon, Mom will get you a few new pairs."

  Ruby took the only pair of Mary Jane shoes on the side rack. After a bit of huffing and wincing, her feet begrudgingly settled inside.

  Mom closed the distance in two precise and sharp steps. She knelt down, all knowing smiles and unconcealed smirks.

  "Hmmm.... You surprise me a lot, Ruby." Mom said as she adjusted and tested the buckles. "I didn't expect you to know what Mary Jane shoes are."

  When Morgane looked upwards, her gaze glinted with hidden meanings.

  Ruby sighed loudly because she can never escape mom's barbs.

  "Now try walking." The smirk was still pstered on Mom. "And slowly, darling."

  Ruby rose slowly, her bance slightly unbanced because, heels four inches high, Mary Jane shoes may kill her ankles, and may send her tumbling, nose first. Ruby unsteadily shuffled, almost cmbering, step-by-step. Walking gracefully in four inches of heels proved beyond her capability. Even putting one foot ahead seemed near impossible, since heels tend to sink in plush carpeted floors.

  "Here, take my hand." Mom faced Ruby, and taking both her palms in hers, she walked backwards. An impressive feat, if not for the dazzling smile that mom wore -- a very accomplished expression. Her bright hazel brown eyes were wide open; blinking meant missing something very important and precious.

  "Thank You, Ruby." Mom whispered.

  "For what?" Walking through the door while facing mom and bancing on heels, even the with support, seemed a daunting task.

  "Every mother would like to witness the first steps of their child, and I wasn't there for yours." Mom's smile was bright, genuine sincerity along with barely veiled happiness that not even her sharp, three-button double-breasted bzer could hide. "So, thank you for this memory, Ruby."

  With their hands intertwined, Morgane guided Ruby through each step until they reached the closed garage door.

  "We will take the Bentley today." Mom said it with the same effort as one ordering home delivery pizza.

  "Mom, how many cars do you have?"

  "Only three, darling. The corvette, Bentley and Maserati." Mom fished her keys. The keyring, adorned gold letters MS, shone brightly beneath the te morning light.

  When Mom opened the garage doors, inside her garage stood three vehicles, each polished immacutely and separated with enough space between.

  "Come darling." Mom gathered Ruby's palms and slowly ushered her towards the rose-gold Bentley.

  Even climbing inside the car required assistance. Those Mary Jane heels weren't made for bancing on one foot while sliding the other in.

  Mom deliberately positioned herself behind Ruby, giving her teasing looks. Her hands fell on Ruby's waist, and lingered there for a while. Because Mom relished in the perverse amusement she enjoyed from her discomfort.

  "Now lean back on me." Mom's grip on her waist tightened. "Let your weight fall back..."

  Ruby let go of everything. Suddenly, Mom smelled sweetly floral. Then, Mom somehow managed it; within one brief second, she blended herself behind Ruby. The potent scent lingered, strong, captivating, and maternally protective, meant only one person because, unlike others, Morgane wore unique fragrances.

  Then, suddenly, Mom cupped her ass, lifted her upwards, which may have been her intention all along because Morgane always possessed greater strength than her slenderness implied. She slowly pushed her into the passenger seat and adjusted her seat belt.

  After securing her safety, Morgane softly pushed the failing dark tresses behind her ears, her lips came dangerously close, a thin veneer of moisture glistening. "Darling, try to rex."

  Ruby's fingers fumbled, not knowing what to do, under given situation. Eventually, they retreated into the long arms of dad's sweatshirt.

  Mom still hovered, lips pressed against, caressing ears ever lightly, each word teasingly brushing along each contour. "I know this might be all new for you, but try to take it slow and let the universe come to you, Ruby." Then, mom slid into the driver's seat and ignited the engine.

  "Why did you bring me here?" asked Ruby. Her gaze roamed around, seeking any sign of mall or shopping complex or anything resembling a commercial district.

  Mom casually pocketed her keyring, and extended her hands for Ruby to grasp. "That is because we are going to a boutique, darling. A very special boutique."

  "Can we not, like, just visit a mall and be done with it?" Ruby grasped mom's palms, which rested warmly beneath hers, non-calloused and much smoother than dad's hands.

  Dad loved getting his hands dirty working outside, while Mom, it seems, preferred feminine refinement inside walls.

  "Nonsense." Mom huffed. She raised Ruby's hands between hers, drawing them nearer, slowly, painstakingly closer, till they stood with their bodies almost colliding. "Only the very best for my daughter."

  Then, her eyeshes fluttered close, and her pyful gaze flitted towards Ruby. "Your mother is not prude or judgmental. I want you to know this. And when I asked you about your tastes, I need you to answer truthfully." Mom's whisper came intense. Her husky voice touched all sort of pces Ruby never expected, both physically, because she can feel them tingle, both sensitively, because, suddenly they craved the touch, mostly emotionally because it fyed all her defences apart. "If you can promise me, darling, I will open your world."

  "Would you even take no for an answer?" Ruby scoffed because Mom's promises always came with full of forbidden secrets.

  Mom bit her lower lip, followed instantly by her tongue poking out. "Maybe there is a particurly naughty outfit that catches your attention. Or many naughty ones. Ruby, I don't want you to fear my scorn. Just remember, your mother has worn scandalous pieces of clothing, that anything wild you select will still be chaste."

  "And how did you presume that I would know anything about female dresses?" Ruby snapped back.

  Morgane's eyelids fell slowly, lowering themselves, veil-like, casting their dark shadow, hiding her thoughts, her expressions and her intentions behind them. "Tell me something, what kind of tux your dad wore?"

  "Some kind of bck tuxedo."

  "What kind? Ebony bck or dark blue? Single button or double button? Lapels or shawl colrs? Did you even notice if it is double-breasted or not?"

  "I don't know." Ruby shrugged. "Just some tux, I guess."

  "What about his cuff links? What design are they? Silver or ptinum?"

  "Does it really matter, Mom?"

  "What about Craven? Did you spot a cummerbund with his tux or not?"

  "Mommmm." Ruby dragged the word like a stretched rubber band. "Why would I even notice all that? I am not interested."

  Mom's fingers pyed nguidly on her knuckles, her smile hiding itself behind subtle shifts. They communicated messages, idiosyncratic messages, that Ruby failed to grasp.

  "Darling, now imagine Selina in her wedding dress."

  That image came unbidden. Selina twirled. The chaste white fabric billowed about her waist. Layers of white silken lining accentuated her feminine curves. The cy hem tried to kiss her feet when she danced. Her gossamer-thin veil with them pearls clinging to them, falling like a waterfall from the crest of her head and gently caressing the naked skin of her back. The individual pearls on the gown. The way the creases appeared and disappeared without a trace on her gloves. Even the colour of the flowers she held, light pink peonies amalgamated with sweet pea and anemones. They all added a warmth to her presence.

  "Now, think about what Tasha wore." Mom waited because Morgane always cared about timing when it came to delivering her punchline.

  This time, it came crushing because her thoughts meandered towards Aunt Tasha. Her beige cocktail dress hugged her frame in all the correct pces, and fred around her hips. Ruby could recall the individual seams around the side zipper. The pattern on the hem, when they unduted as Aunt Tasha sat, one leg pressed above another. Her pearly white pumps with lime green straps, criss-crossing, they met thrice before wrapping the other side to fasten the pumps.

  Those pumps highlighted the slenderness of Aunt Tasha's ankles, and the designs of the hem brought out the shapely and incredibly proportioned legs but simply can't compare against mom's femininely delicates.

  Those wandering thoughts were scandalously private. Not solely because it was Mom, but what followed.

  Were her legs also incredibly feminine like Mom's?

  That notion never crossed her mind. Ruby never bothered to pause, and check her new body, until Mom popped the bubble with her prodding questions. Now that Mom pnted the idea, it was all Ruby could think as she walked holding Mom's hand.

  Mom spun her words masterfully, creating images, both licentious and chaste, and Ruby could only follow, just as she did now. Because Mom can still possess absolute control, keep her new daughter dancing, and Ruby will comply because she needed answers and Mom gave ambiguous replies at best.

  "Mom, how far is it to this pce?" Her feet already compined. Toes folded inside the Mary Jane shoes felt swollen. Ankles begged as though she did rock climbing for an hour. Four-inch heels only seemed comfortable when stationary. Those heeled shoes made walking an arduous task. Even holding hands with Mom always positioned perfectly to keep her bance, they never made walking easy.

  "Just a few more mins, darling." Morgane rubbed her palms between hers. Mom never floundered. Her sense of bance came naturally, unlike Ruby. "You can hold on to me. Supporting you is no big deal."

  "Did you park the car far away just so you can walk holding my hand?"

  Mom smiled. A hint behind lips, curves twisting ever-so-slightly in a perfect exhibit of shameless behaviour. "Darling, its ten mins of walking." Mom's steps slowed, till they nearly stopped. "Think of it as training an essential skill for your new life."

  Ruby groaned because Mom always followed her whims. Just walking became tiresome because each step became a bigger task. At least Mom held her steady. The body against hers provided reassurance.

  Even that sted only for the next three steps as they passed a building with pristine polished granite walls. The reflections of Mom and her on them, Ruby winced in discomfort. Mom in her double breasted three buttoned suit, sharp colr of shirt peeking beneath, a picture of perfection. Except her. She appeared horribly disheveled. The sweatshirt swallowed her frame. Her jogging pants wanted to kiss the ground. Worse, Mary Jane shoes constricted her feet, threatening to break her ankles.

  Then their hair, Mom's hung like a silken curtain with velvety feel. Hers, looked like they fought medusa, and won.

  Gazing at the image, none would conjure the idea that they were reted. They looked like they both belonged to different worlds. Not mother and daughter, but more disparate. Like Mom was a mogul or a magnate and she, a tramp who got through by panhandling.

  That was when the first of the catcalls came.

  "Don't respond." Mom muttered under her breath. "Keep walking."

  "But Mom..." Ruby tugged. She hated how vulnerable her voice came out. "I am scared."

  Mom coaxed gently, her fingers wrapped tight, the touch sending warmth through the palms. "Trust me darling. Learning to ignore those are a part of adapting." Then Mom shifted close, one palm reaching hips, holding tight. "Now, if you feel drained, shift your weight on me. You can hold my hands tighter. But keep moving. Don't say anything."

  Ruby understood because Morgane carried confidence along with composure. Mom's steps were poised, radiating pride, while Ruby barely managed to stumble.

  They crossed half of the distance when the catcalls, and the hooting, grew louder. At first, Ruby thought the obscenities were directed at her. Homophobic retorts were thrown in generous measure. As they rose in crescendo, Ruby realised, they were aimed at Mom. Not her.

  One vulgar man, leaning against a wall, wolf-whistled. His tongue flicked out, making the gesture for a particur act explicitly clear.

  Mom flicked her chin with vanity and prestige. A minor gesture, simple movement, seemingly insignificant. Yet, she instilled disproportionate austerity. Her sheer presence exerted weight.

  "Damn fucking dykes." Those words snatched Ruby's attention back. To her. To mom. The way she clung to Mom. The way Mom held her.

  Another homophobic comment flew. Then another. "Fuckin crazy lesbos." Another whistle followed. "Turned against our dicks. Its their loss. Makes them desperate."

  Then came wicked ughter. Loud, vicious, direct. Along with crude comments directed towards Mom. "Shouldn't you try taking something between your legs." Another derisive snort. "Come home. Ride our cocks."

  The distasteful leer came, all attention directed towards Mom's ass.

  Ruby noted Mom's steps did not slow. They never became awkward, as though she anticipated everything. Mom retained her assurance. The flippant comments stung, but Morgane was composed of more venomous things.

  If Mom paid heed, she never showed. Instead, she ignored them. As though they didn't exist. Her features remained statuesque. Pristine and Impeccable. Chiseled perfection. Never failing. Not floundering. Just in control. Like always.

  More barrages of indecent proposals fell. "Don't ignore. Or better. Dump that little slut you picked. Leave her hanging because we can show you pleasure you can't with her. Our dicks can use some love to. That'll show her."

  Ruby found herself possessively wrapped inside Mom's arms. Even though they kept walking, Mom felt like the only constant around.

  But fools rush in where angels fear to tread. The man was persistent.

  "Or bring your cute little slut too. Introduce her to some dicking. That way you both can make babies."

  "Hold me tight. Don't ever let go." Mom's voice carried shockingly strong timbre. Mom's usual voice had authority, but this one carried an ominous chill. It was the kind of tone that summoned harrowing silence. The poignancy in her, it made wraiths abandoned the graveyard they haunted. Her grip tightened so hard that Ruby feared Mom would crush her bones.

  Morgane's lips moved wordlessly. Her eyes rolled in unnatural ways. Soon, mystical arching winds howled around Mom.

  And then, Mom stopped all with a snap of her fingers.

  A fraction of a second.

  It all happened in a fraction of a second.

  Not enough time for Ruby to process everything. The ground beneath unduted, like Mom's command unleashed a cannon fire beneath. A single sinusoidal wave, that traveled subterranean, racing straight ahead towards the indecent proponent. It struck and tossed him, right in front of a speeding truck.

  The body hit the cemented road a few feet ahead of Ruby with a thud. The sound of bones crunching, of entrails dislocating and flesh sack splitting, liberating the contents on the road; the poignancy of it all struck Ruby in a cacophonous discord.

  The contents of the morning breakfast churned in Ruby's stomach, threatening to rise and spill out. Except Mom was there. Her hands shielded Ruby's eyes and ushered her away.

  Mom coaxed gently, deliberating slowly each sylble. "Look elsewhere darling."

  Ruby complied because Mom handled everything. Her warm palm rested on Ruby's nape.

  Mom's fingers applied pressure, unbending, steel-like, she urged Ruby's head, till it rested between colr bones. "You can also close your ears. This may seem grisly, especially because you haven't seen death."

  Ruby pressed her forehead against Mom's colrbones, finding unexpected comfort. Because, nothing can hurt her. Not when she can sense Mom's pulse. Suddenly, Mom meant safety.

  A very vile and perverted thought because Ruby had never seen a death before. The closest she could recall was when an athlete in school had an accident on the track and came to css with a bruised cheek and chin with still blood-soaked T-shirt. He acted like it was nothing. As though he were born to shed blood and to do so while pretending it did not hurt.

  Now, she saw actual death. Bone poking and entrails all tossed out, and blood still seeping through. Body twitching in st second agony. She saw a man killed.

  No.

  She witnessed Mom murdering a man.

  And Morgane just went all sweet and caring.

  Ruby felt like a gullible fool for feeling safe in Mom's comfort.

  "Mom." Ruby looked sideways unable to raise her gaze because her forehead pressed against colrbones, her line of sight restricted. "What you..."

  But Mom spoke first. "Rex darling."

  The pendant around her neck gave a slight twitch. Like sparks trapped beneath them.

  Mom ushered her further away from the din.

  "Mom, you murdered a man." She looked Mom in the eyes, squarely. The beautiful hazel brown eyes remained warm. At least her expression matched her actions.

  Morgane watched silently. Not saying one word, her fingers squeezed Ruby's palms. Just only two. Those two digits rested upon her. Steady and unmoving, letting silence linger, allowing her words to sink.

  When she deemed Ruby ready, her coral lips parted. "Yes. I did."

  That shocked Ruby. Not the acknowledgement of it. Mom's gait may garner attention. Her words can twist meanings. Her stance was always imposing. She can overwhelm with her attitude. She had that demeanour to create earthquakes, and her simple sigh can reduce people into cowering mess.

  Now, Mom said those words with gcial calmness. That was unnerving. Not even a slight tremble or trepidation. She said it as a matter-of-fact. Like in a perfectly social gathering, where she interrupted her interesting recalling of events to inform the host that she preferred her coffee with cream, and then continued her tale.

  "I can understand because you are new, and may never have seen death." Mom's tone regained the tenderness, soft, light and comforting. "This shock you feel. This will pass. I can cast a small spell to make scared and anxious little girls like you ease. Want me to cast it?"

  Dad would have never stood for it. That fact was undeniable. Even when returning home bullied for the name -- Reuben, lunch times were filled with proverbial sandwich jokes -- Dad, always insisted on compassion for the bullies.

  "That kid who bullied you," Dad said then, "he might have a chronically sick mom in the hospital. He could be visiting her every day with flowers. Or he might be a great brother to his younger siblings. Or might be leaving milk for the stray cats. Always isote the evil act from the person, and you will see the goodness in humanity."

  Marcel was compassionate. No. He was terrific that way. An extraordinary parent. Vehement against any retaliatory act, and stood for compassion.

  Meanwhile, Mom just murdered at the slightest perceived insult. With the same effort required for neatly folding a candy wrapper and tossing it out on a whim.

  "You just murdered someone for what? A catcall? A lewd suggestion? I mean, shouldn't women at your age be used to such things? You have great power in your grasp Mom. And you intentionally choose to wield it without consideration."

  "First, Ruby darling, women at no age should be forced to tolerate wolf-whistling. Second, My fingers snapping can obliterate whole blocks. Can blow fires hotter than a thousand suns. What is the point in locking all this behind a restraint?"

  "Don't feed me this 'no women should be forced' feminist bullshit. Even boys are terrorised. Some people are assholes. There are thousands of them in the world, and they go prowling, looking for easy targets to pick."

  Morgane's hazel brown eyes roamed over Ruby's face, seeking something. Then, when she spoke, her words were selected with extreme care. "Ruby, he should have stopped with me." Mom's gaze never wavered. The bright hazel-brown eyes held Ruby, unraveling her expression slowly to find something. "There are certain things a parent can never stand for."

  "Dad would have never acted that way."

  "Ruby." Mom snapped, sharp and sibint hiss of threat spilled. "This version of Marcel you are clinging to. You should stop it."

  Then, Mom pursed her lips tight in a manner that allowed no further discussion.

  The further walk carried silence.

  AnnouncementDear Readers, feel free to leave a comment or kudos. I crosspost the story with a few other ptforms, AO3 for example.If you have any particur scenario or scene in mind, feel free to leave it in the comment. Or if you want to remain anonymous, feel free to message me in the following.

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