How Taylor Hebert Agreed to Be a Slut [Worm/Slut Life]

The premise of the story should be obvious from the title.

1) This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow, and the Slut Life universe, which isn't. Thanks for letting me use them.
2) I will follow canon as closely as I can. If I find something that canon does not cover, I will make stuff up. If canon then refutes me, I will revise. Do not bother me with fanon; corrections require citations.
3) I welcome criticism of my works, but if you tell me that something is wrong, I also expect an explanation of what is wrong, and a suggestion of how to fix it. Note that I do not promise to follow any given suggestion.

A/N: This will probably be a one-shot. If I continue it, it will almost certainly diverge into NSFW territory. But for now, it's SFW.
A/N2: This story inspired by this fic.

SFW chapters will appear in this thread. All chapters (SFW and NSFW together) will appear in this thread.

Part One: Introduction (below)
Part Two: Contractual Obligations
Part Two Point Five: Behind the Scenes [NSFW]
Part Three: Preparations
Part Four: Awakenings [NSFW]
Part Five: Anal Apocalypse [NSFW]

 

How Taylor Hebert Agreed to be a Slut

A Worm/Slut Life Crossover

Part One: Introduction



Taylor came awake with a start, thrashing wildly. “No! Let me out! Let me—!” She fought against the thing that was holding her in place, which her racing mind finally interpreted as a bedsheet. At the same time, there was another cry, not from her own throat, followed by a solid thump, off to the side.

Grasping at the sheets, she pulled them off of herself, trying to figure out where she was in relation to the rest of the universe. The last thing that she recalled was trying to figure out what the horrific smell from her locker was, then opening it and being hit by the full stench.

I was about to puke. And then I got pushed in. Even now, clean and warm, lying on what had to be the most amazingly comfortable mattress she'd ever encountered, she felt her heart rate begin to escalate. They locked me in. They locked me—

“Ow.” The voice came from beside her, but somehow lower down. It was female, filled with a certain ruefulness.

“What? Who's there?” Finally, Taylor began to pay attention to her surroundings. She couldn't see much in the way of detail without her glasses, but she was definitely in some sort of room. A hospital room? There wasn't much she could do to determine one way or the other. She didn't have anything plugged into her arms or body, and there were no beeping machines alongside the bed, but that was more a lack of proof than a proof of lack. But there was someone here; maybe a nurse?

Someone rose into view at the side of the bed. Even going from the blurry outline, it wasn't someone she knew. Not that Taylor knew many nurses, or even female doctors. 'None' was a subset of 'not many', after all. All the same, she squinted to see if she could make out the woman's face. The attempt wasn't hugely successful; her less-than-amazing vision insisted on putting protrusions on the side of the woman's head that her brain interpreted as looking like cat ears. “Uh, hi? Where am I?”

“You're in a secure medical facility, Miss Hebert.” The voice was soft and warm, and had a catch to it that suggested the speaker would much rather giggle or laugh than speak normally. “Oh, I'm sorry. We retrieved these. Here you are.” A hand extended toward her, bearing something that drew a glint from the overhead lighting. She reached out and took it; as she'd half-expected, it turned out to be her glasses.

“Thank you,” she said, while wondering at the woman's words. Secure medical facility? Why am I in a secure medical facility? Carefully, she unfolded the glasses and fitted them on to her face. They fitted properly, not in that slightly wonky fashion they'd been in ever since Emma had—

That line of thought was pushed clear out of her head as she saw her companion clearly for the first time. She looked to be younger than Taylor had envisaged, maybe seventeen or so. Black hair and bright, lively eyes—green, a little larger than normal—went with an impish grin on a decidedly cute face; pronounced cheekbones only made it more so. She was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans as far as Taylor could see. Maybe it's casual day at work? The shirt had some sort of logo that looked like an “S” and an “L” intertwined. But Taylor wasn't looking at the girl's shirt or even her face. She was looking at the girl's ears.

People had ears. This was a thing. However, every human ear Taylor had ever seen was a blobby pink thing just … well, just sitting on the side of the head. From the front, it wasn't even easy to see much in the way of detail. But with this girl it was different. Her ears weren't on the sides of her head; they were closer to the top. And they were larger. And pointier. And had fur on them. And as she stared, they moved.

“What?” The girl stared back at her, obviously having seen her change of expression. “What's the matter? Have I got something on my face?”

Shakily lifting her hand, Taylor pointed. “Uh, your ears …?” In her own mind, she knew damn well she was probably making an utter fool of herself. Either whatever drugs they'd shot into her were utterly messing with her head, or the girl had on some sort of animatronic headgear just to fuck with her.

The girl grinned widely. To her consternation, Taylor noted that her canines were slightly elongated. Not long enough to be considered vampire fangs, and not particularly sharp, but definitely … there. “Oh, yeah. Cool, aren't they? I got 'em done back when I started, and I've never regretted it.” With one hand, she smoothed them back in a preening motion; they sprang back up again under Taylor's disbelieving gaze.

“But how … why … where … what's going on here?” Taylor's voice rose in a despairing wail. She had no idea of anything now. Secure medical facilities and girls with mobile cat ears were not part of her normal worldview. Then again, nor was being locked in her locker, but in retrospect that bit didn't unduly astonish her. This has gotta be a dream. I'm still in the locker, and I'm hallucinating.

“Oh. Oh, shit, sorry.” The girl took hold of Taylor's hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “I forgot. Honestly, I did. You don't have this sort of thing where you come from, do you?”

“Um … maybe?” Taylor recalled seeing a TV spot on Case 53s, the so-called 'monster capes'. If someone could end up eight feet tall and bright blue, she supposed someone else could get cat ears and little tiny cat fangs? “Where am I … exactly?”

“Okay, this is gonna take a little bit of explaining.” The girl let go of Taylor's hands and leaned over to pick up a plastic chair that was for some reason lying on its back. She set it upright and sat down on it. “For starters, my name's Tori. Tori Caswell.” She gave Taylor a beaming smile. “And it's really great to meet you.”

Tori's smile was infectious; Taylor felt her own cheek muscles beginning to respond. “Uh, the same to you, I guess?” She paused, fully aware of how ungrateful that sounded. Tori was only trying to be friendly, after all. “I'm sorry. I've just never met anyone with cat ears before.”

Tori rolled her eyes slightly. “Trust me, that's okay. At least you haven't asked if you can touch them yet, or worse, just grabbed at them. The number of people who've pulled on them … seriously. Anyway. Like I said, you're in a secure medical facility. It's so secure it's in orbit. This is for your own good.” She gave Taylor a serious look. “It's a mental health issue.”

Taylor blinked at that. Oddly enough, being told she was in orbit wasn't quite so surprising when it came from a girl with cute little cat fangs. And ears; the ears were hard to ignore. “Orbit. Okay.” She didn't seem to be drifting off the bed, so she figured they must be doing that centrifugal spin thing to emulate gravity. Sometimes, having been an incurable bookworm had its benefits; she knew all the common science fiction tropes. “What's the mental health issue about? And how does being in orbit actually help it?”

“Okay, this is where it gets technical,” Tori said. “You know how on your world some people can get superhuman powers from having something really horrible happen to them?”

Taylor's mind whirled. Is she saying I've got powers? Did I get powers because Sophia stuffed me in that locker? I've got powers? How does that even work? What sort of powers do I have? Why is that even a mental health issue?

… wait a minute. What did she mean, 'on your world'?

Out loud, she said, “What?”

“What what?” asked Tori, looking confused.

Taylor took a deep breath. “What do you mean, 'on your world'? You said we're in orbit. Is that around Earth Bet … I mean, are you even from Earth Bet? Are you an alien?” It would certainly explain the cat ears, but in the other direction. Maybe the rest of her had been made up to look human …

“No!” Tori said hastily, holding up her hands defensively. “Well, yes, but not in the way you're thinking. I was born on Earth. Just not the same Earth as you.” She gestured at the room. “This station's in orbit around an Earth that's an analogue of yours, but it's not yours. Got it?”

“Oh, so an alternate Earth,” Taylor said, feeling the pieces drop into place. “Like Earth Aleph.” She paused. “Is it Earth Aleph?”

“Not as far as I'm aware,” Tori said. “I'd have to check, but I'm pretty sure we just call it plain old simple Earth.”

“Oh.” Taylor let herself relax back on to the pillows; belatedly, she realised she'd been sitting up in a position which her stomach muscles weren't used to holding for too long. “Actually, that's probably a good thing. A manned space station around Earth Bet would be a Simurgh magnet anyway.” It was why beachfront properties were no longer quite as in demand as they'd once been, and why nobody lived near a nuclear reactor if they could help it; the Endbringers had left their mark on the world.

“I'll, uh, take your word for it.” Tori cleared her throat and flicked her ears. Taylor wondered if it was weird how she was getting used to that. “Anyway. As for the mental health issue. Your powers seem to involve controlling bugs. Lots and lots of bugs, all at once. More to the point, you're set up to receive the input from the bugs you're controlling. The trouble is, no human mind we've ever heard of is able to accept that level of input without going catatonic from the stress. So we've got you in a place where we can guarantee there are no bugs about to mess with your head, so you can gradually get used to the idea, and work out strategies to make sure you don't go nuts when you are exposed to lots of bugs all at once. Does that make sense?”

It did, scarily so. “So what would've happened if you'd left me there?” She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, but it was definitely something she suspected she needed to know.

Tori grimaced and waggled her hand. “Maybe a week until your brain acclimatised? Maybe more? We really can't be sure about that sort of thing. Sometimes people adapt fast, and sometimes they don't really ever fully adapt.”

“Urgh.” Taylor felt sickened. “So if you hadn't pulled me out, I'd be catatonic in a psych ward right now. God, the hospital bills would be astronomical. I don't even know how Dad—” A moment later, she sat up in bed as another realisation burst upon her. “Wait, Dad! God, he must be worried sick!”

“He doesn't have to be,” Tori said soothingly. “In fact, if we do it right, he'll never know you were gone.”

Not for the first time, Taylor stared at the cat-girl, wondering when she was going to start making sense. “I'm gonna need an explanation for that one.”

Tori grinned, showing her tiny canines once more. Or should that be 'felines'? Whatever; Taylor focused on what she was saying. “Okay, our technology? It's pretty cool.” She ran her hand over her head, flattening her ears before letting them spring up again. “Full body mods are nothing. Intergalactic travel, faster-than-light real-time sound-and-picture communications to every inhabited planet in the known universe … and yeah, time travel.” Her grin widened. “We can put you back on your Earth anywhere you want, anywhen you want, so long as it's after you left.”

“Okay, so I've been either kidnapped or rescued by a universe-spanning transhumanist society.” It didn't sound any less weird when she said it out loud. “Now, I'm sure that it's trivial for you to do this, but for me it's a pretty big deal. And I'm reasonably certain that no matter how benevolent your society is, you don't just go rescuing people like me from situations like that. Because otherwise, a lot more people would've been rescued a lot sooner.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed; talking while lying on her back left her feeling more than a little at a disadvantage. “So what's in it for you?”

Tori cleared her throat again. It seemed to be a nervous habit with her. “I want to make you a proposition. An offer. Recruitment, in fact. You get something, or a few somethings, of great value to you, and we get … well, you. For a year. Working for us.”

Taylor blinked. “So all this is a … job interview?” It didn't fit in with any other job interview she'd ever heard of—not that she'd actually attended any—but then again, she supposed that near-omnipotent galactic civilisations might do things differently.

“Oh, no, it's a job offer,” Tori said brightly. “We've already evaluated you, and we're certain that if you want the job, you'll be amazing at it. I'm just here to ask you if you actually want it, and to let you know of the perks that will come along with it, and the end-of-employment benefits that you'll be getting as a part of your severance package.” She nodded encouragingly. “Of course, if you turn us down, we'll send you back to whenever you want to be, but the benefits are pretty damn impressive, let me tell you.”

Taylor considered that. When Tori said 'impressive', she was speaking from the point of view of someone who lived in the previously-mentioned 'universe-spanning transhumanist society'. “Uh … just how impressive are we talking about, here?” For one year of employment? They must want me pretty badly. Why do they want me so badly?

“Well, let's see now …” Tori drummed her fingers together for a moment. “You know how you've got bug control super-powers? We can give you an entire new set of powers on top of that, to make you a whole lot more effective. Or your own planet. Or your own spaceship. Or just plain money—in the hundreds of thousands to the millions range, depending. It's really your choice.”

“You're kidding, right?” Taylor stared at her. “You're not kidding? I could have any of that?” What she could do with any of that … it beggared the imagination. I could be a hero. I could help clean up Brockton Bay. She'd already had an inkling of such an idea, since Tori had told her about her bug powers … but with more powers on top? She stared into nothing, her mind turning over the possibilities. “How … how do I even qualify for something like that?”

“You're here. You qualify.” Tori took her hands and squeezed them encouragingly. “You're smart, you're imaginative, and you're strong willed. This is what we want in an employee. Everything else, we can deal with.”

“Um.” It was hard to say no to the cat-girl, but Taylor's less than stellar self-image made itself known once more. “I don't have any skills that are probably useful to you. How are you even going to employ me?”

Tori chuckled, then sobered again. “Sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. I seem to recall asking that very same question, once upon a time.” Leaning back in the chair, she stretched. Very cat-like, Taylor noted. She also couldn't help noticing that the t-shirt was very tight, and Tori didn't seem to be wearing a bra. Also, that Tori had an endowment that Taylor would've sold her left arm to get. Wait, is that actually possible here?

“So did they give you a planet, too?” Tori didn't seem to be dressed like a millionaire or exhibiting any weird powers, so that was Taylor's next guess.

“Oh, I'm still working for them,” Tori said with a grin. “Just taking some time off and interning in the company to make some extra cash. When I finish out my three years, I'll be actually taking a job in management.”

“Oh, okay.” Something wasn't adding up here. Why would someone take time off to fill an intern position? “So what will I be doing if I take the job?”

Sitting forward, Tori put a serious expression on her face. “That's a good question, but I'm going to want you to keep an open mind while I answer it, okay?”

Slowly, Taylor nodded. “O … kay.” She got the impression Tori was about to drop a bombshell on her, but was also working to lessen the impact. Whatever it was, she figured it had to be pretty big. They give people super-powers after one year? Or their own planet? What do they want me to be? A contract killer?

“All right then,” Tori said. “The very, very simple answer is that you're going to be a reality TV star. Your entire life will be on view, thirty-two hours a day, the whole time you're employed by us. Who you talk to, when you're awake, when you're asleep. The whole nine yards.” She held up a finger. “There's more, but I need you to process that first.”

This was … a little more than Taylor had expected. “The whole time? I mean … when I'm in the shower, going to the bathroom, getting changed … everything?” Then another thing Tori had said occurred to her. Wait—thirty-two hours a day? Oh, duh. Another planet. Longer day.

Tori nodded soberly. “You'll have zero privacy. Billions of people will be watching your every move. On the downside, you'll have no secrets whatsoever. On the upside, you'll have legions of adoring fans almost from the word go.” She gave Taylor an engaging grin. “Our advertising department is very good at what they do.”

“Legions … of adoring fans …” That, alone, was hard for Taylor to parse. “They'll want to watch me?” But I'm boring! her inner monologue wailed. Ugly! Nobody wants to look at me!

“Oh, hell yes,” Tori confirmed. “You'll be a star. Seriously, think of the most famous celebrity on Earth Bet, then forget them because you're gonna have ten thousand times as many fans who'd love to meet you in person.”

“But … I'm me,” Taylor pointed out cogently, gesturing at her body. Stick-thin limbs, abysmally flat chest, too-wide mouth … the list was depressingly long. “And what could I do to keep them entertained? Song and dance routines?”

“Well, for the first half of that question, look at me,” Tori suggested. “I did not have this hot bod when I first joined. This is a signing bonus, babe. So to speak, anyway. This is something you start with.” She preened; Taylor couldn't help but notice exactly how amazingly proportioned she was. Taylor wasn't into girls, but Tori would've given her ideas if she was.

“What, the cat ears and all?” Taylor figured that any upgrade to her body would probably be for the best, but she wasn't sure about the other additions.

Tori nearly fell off the chair laughing. “Oh, no. No. Hell, no. You can have any kind of looks you want. Seriously. Cat-girl, wolf-girl, bug-girl—if that's what you want—or just you, two point oh.” She wiped away tears, then mimed a camera aperture with her fingers, framing Taylor with them. “What you want to be is up to you.” Then she cleared her throat. “Which brings us to the second part of the question. What the show's about.”

Taylor tilted her head, still digesting the concept of having her body made over to whatever she wanted. A mental image of herself made up to supermodel-standard, strolling through Winslow and seeing Emma's jaw drop from sheer blind envy, stuck in her mind and wouldn't go away. “Okay, hit me.”

Tori took a deep breath, looking and sounding a little nervous. “Well, the name of the company is Slut Life.”

It took a few seconds for that to sink in. It didn't hit her as hard as it might have; Tori had given her lots of hints, after all. But still … “So wait. I'd be a 'slut'? I'd be having sex?” Give her a chance, her caution told her. It might not be as bad as it sounds.

“Basically, yes.” Tori nodded. “It's what the show's all about. You know how I said there was no privacy? Especially not for that.” She held up her hand as Taylor opened her mouth again. “Hear me out. There will be no forced sex for people who aren't actually into that sort of thing. Some are; I'm not. I'm guessing from your expression that you aren't either. So you don't need to worry about that. There's a checklist—a contract, actually—which states what the company's allowed to subject you to. If you don't pick any options to have sex forced on you, then it simply won't happen.”

Taylor blinked. “Okay.” Tori had sounded very adamant on the subject, which reassured her somewhat. “But I would be expected to have sex at some point, right?” It wasn't the idea of having sex that put her off so much as not having the choice to not have sex. While she was a virgin, she'd had her share of hormone-fuelled teenager night-time fantasies that came with puberty and sexual maturation. Not as many as some, she suspected, but the number was more than zero. If it ever came to the right guy, who was actually interested in her, she figured she wouldn't be totally against the idea …

“Well, as I said, it is what the show's all about,” Tori confirmed. “But there's more to it than just sex. You'll have a home life—well, you'll have a home—with the option of live-in roommates, amenities, whatever level of comfort you feel okay with choosing and … ah, yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Don't freak out. This next bit's not quite as bad as it sounds.”

“No promises.” Taylor didn't like the sound of this, although Tori had been very up-front with her so far. And she hadn't signed anything, which meant she could walk away at any time. Though the temptation of the after-employment bonuses still tugged at her. Extra powers … millions of dollars … what I could do with that. And in the back of her mind, the idea of getting an actual sexy body was also jumping up and down to get her attention.

“That's fair.” Tori gave her a hesitant smile. “Another aspect of the show is what we call 'owners'. Now before you start getting worried, we're not going to sell you off as a sex slave.” She paused. “You're not into that, are you? Oh, good. Nor am I. Some people are, apparently, but it's a totally consensual thing. I hear it's sort of like getting married, only more so. Anyway, where was I?”

“Owners,” Taylor supplied, not liking the sound of the word at all.

“Yeah, owners.” Tori nodded. “Like I said, it's not as bad as it seems. Owners are … people who you're obliged to spend time with. You're going to need to pick at least one potential owner from the list, and spend at least several hours of one day per week with them. But you do get to pick. Again, you're not forced to take someone else's pick.”

“But I can't not pick one, right?” Taylor's bad feeling was starting to get worse. “Someone I'm gonna have to have sex with, no matter what.”

“Oh, no, no.” Tori waved her hands in negation. “Yes, you have to pick. But not all of them are about sex. Admittedly, most are—this is Slut Life, after all—but some are just about companionship. The Gentleman will court you with the full intent of marrying you, but he doesn't believe in sex before marriage. And the Cutie just wants to be your friend, to go out and have fun with you.” She tilted her hand from side to side. “Most of the others … yeah, they'll pretty well want to bang you. Though depending on the owner, they'll take a lot of pride in seducing you.” She giggled. “Being seduced by a futa is fun.”

Taylor wasn't sure what a 'futa' was, and was equally certain she didn't want to know. “I'm not so sure about either of those, sorry. All my friendships have crashed and burned. I'm kind of death on them.” And she certainly wasn't interested in someone who just wanted to get into her pants, no matter how they dressed it up. Or undressed it, for that matter.

“Yeah, I read your file.” Tori looked solemn. “Trust me, you won't get that here. See, this is all for the show. The Cuties and the Gentlemen are picked for the fact that they want to fill that role for you. If they diverge from that, they get dropped from the show, paid off, and you never see them again.” She paused. “Well, I guess the Girly Trainer's also a no-sex option, but she's very hands-on. She'll literally pull your clothes off of you and force you to wear sexy lingerie under your hand-picked high-fashion clothing. Then she'll teach you how to wear makeup right, coach you in how to talk to boys, and so on.”

That actually sounded not so bad to Taylor, except for the 'hands-on' thing. But of course … “Um, if I want to meet boys, I can just choose to have that happen, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tori agreed. “If there's anything Slut Life can arrange for you, it's to meet the boy of your dreams so you can bang his brains out. Or not, as you see fit. Oh, wait. There's one other no-sex option for an owner, but it's almost as intrusive as the Girly Trainer.”

“Okay, what's that one?” Taylor still hadn't fully gotten her head around the idea that she was looking at options for spending a year having sex on TV for an eventual reward, but … well, the reward was something that she'd give a lot for. Is it worth giving a year of my life for? And having sex for?

“Parents,” declared Tori. “Not your real parents, of course,” she added hastily, probably due to the look on Taylor's face. “But a very nice couple who are willing to act as your foster parents. They'll cook and clean and make you do chores, and help you with your homework—if you choose to keep up your studies—and in general, be your parents.”

“Oh.” She saw what Tori meant by 'intrusive'. “And they'd be okay if I had sex with a boy, if I met him and liked him enough to go that far with him?” Which was a question she never thought she'd be asking; she felt a flush colouring her cheeks.

Tori rolled her eyes. “Of course. They'd probably leave the room to give you your privacy, but it's all part of the show.”

“Ah. Yes. The show.” That made for a certain amount of very weird sense. Then something else occurred to her. “And they wouldn't be interested in …” She flushed again, not even wanting to say the words, but unable to take her mind off of it, like a tongue probing a sore tooth. Having sex with me.

“Hah, nope.” Tori grinned at her. “Unless you chose that option. Then it'd be Daddy dearest all day long.”

“Oh, God no!” yelped Taylor, hiding her face in her arms. She was pretty sure the tips of her ears were about to catch fire. That was one role she never wanted to think of her Dad in. Why they even had an option for that, she had no idea.

“Sorry, sorry. Couldn't help teasing you just a little.” Tori giggled. “You're so cute when you blush like that. But anyway, that's the parents option.”

“Right.” Taylor thought about what Tori had told her. On the face of it, it seemed to be a reasonable bargain. For the low, low price of one Taylor Hebert for one year, she'd get extra super-powers and the choice of whatever other options existed in the post-employment rewards scheme. A year of training with her powers, so she was actually good with them by the time they sent her back to Earth Bet.

But in order to earn this, I'm going to have to have sex.

Am I ready for that? Physically or emotionally?

As much as she tried to tell herself that people had done more to get less and considered it a bargain, her natural conservatism pushed back. She liked to consider herself a 'good' girl, no matter what the bitches at school said to her and about her. This—all of this—felt like she'd be selling her body, her honour, for selfish reasons. When it came down to it, she just couldn't justify saying yes, no matter how much she'd get out of it.

I guess they're just going to have to send me back to—

“Oh, shit!” she shouted, severely startling Tori. Jumping off the bed, she grabbed the catgirl by the front of her T-shirt and pulled her to her feet. “You can time-travel back how far?”

“As far as we need to,” Tori said, putting her hands on Taylor's but not trying to make her loosen her grip. “But we won't be sending you back before we picked you up, for obvious reasons. Why?”

“No, not me.” Taylor tried to get her churning thoughts in order. “Mom! She died in a car accident two years ago! Can you save her? Rescue her? Like you did with me?”

Tori shrugged. “Sure, but we couldn't save her then. We'd have to bring her forward. No messing with your past timeline.”

“But she'd be safe and alive, right?” insisted Taylor. “And she could go back to Earth Bet with me once my year was up?”

“Sure,” said Tori again, then frowned. “But there's only one more time-jump authorised with your case. To put you back where you came from. If we did this, you wouldn't get back for a year.”

Slowly, Taylor let Tori's shirt go. Her mind was filled with a cold, hard certainty. This was what she needed to do. “Do it. I'm guessing you can get a message to Dad? Tell him from me that I'm safe and all that.”

“Record the message and we'll make sure he gets it,” Tori confirmed. “Does this mean you're signing up?”

Taylor looked her dead in the eye. “Get my mom back for me, and you're damn right I'll sign up.” Everything else was incidental; getting her mom back was personal. And if it took a year on a sex-based TV reality show to make sure it happened, that was what she'd do.

There was a knock on the door; Taylor and Tori both looked around. It opened a moment later, and Taylor stared. Despite what she'd just been saying, the reality of the situation was another thing altogether. “ … Mom?”

Annette Rose Hebert, wearing a stylish top and skirt, smiled at her daughter. “It took you long enough, little owl. I've been waiting out there for the last ten minutes.”

Taylor gaped, then stared at Tori. “But … but I just …”

“Time travel, sweetheart,” Annette reminded her. “They rescued me a week ago by my personal timeline. Rebuilt my body, taught me how to walk again, and then it was just a matter of waiting for you to show up so you could ask them to do it. Causality is a pain.”

Taylor launched herself across the room and latched on to her mother, holding on for dear life. She felt the familiar embrace as hot tears ran down her face. “It's you. It's really you.”

“It really is,” Annette confirmed. “And while as your mother I'm not a hundred percent on board with what you're signing up to do, girls younger than you have done worse things to keep their families safe. So … I guess I get to be your Mom for the duration anyway? If you want?”

Taylor giggled through her tears. “Definitely, Mom. Definitely.”

Everything else was an optional extra. She had what she wanted.



End of Part One



(continuation depending on demand)