It had become evening rather quickly and she was now sitting on her podium again, pretending to be the night cat, mascot of the 'Night Rose' night club, today extra fluffy and stylish due to Marian's efforts.

  For some weird reason she got more time to think up here on display in the spot light than most time during the day, when either Roger or Bruno ordered her around. And there was still Rogers proposal to think about. She had turned the sound dampening of her ear protectors to the max and felt the music more than she heard it, while she went through Roger's proposals once more on her mind.

  Steel claws, instead of her natural claws. She didn't like the idea to have her claws replaced by something artificial, implants even, fused to her finger and toe bones. Actual weapons, and the police would have yet another reason to treat her like a dangerous animal. On the other hand, even on the first day with Tom in New Fairhagen she had wished for steel claw caps for her foot claws. Running on concrete or asphalt ground her foot claws away like crazy, particularly if she tried to do a sharp turn, or break hard. Maybe she should talk to Roger about claw caps instead of full replacements?

  But either way, each time she'd have to pass a metal detector at an airport or spaceport, she'd need to explain why she had metal not in a pocket with her but as part of her body. Certainly there were more who had implants, but it always meant some extra explanation and she wasn't keen on more talk with the security staff in any place than necessary.

  Steel caps for her fangs were similar, but less problematic to explain. Many people had capped teeth. It was cheaper to get a damaged tooth capped than a new tooth implanted. So while hers would be purely cosmetic, capped fangs were nothing that needed a particular explanation.

  She looked over the club. Most of it was only sparsely lit, today in teal and blue shades. The dance floor was populated but not crowded and the tables and booths had their share of patrons too. Just another evening at the club, nothing special. "Sit and look pretty," that's been her instructions. Looking pretty was particularly easy today after her time at the makeup artist.

  She shook herself a bit and felt for the response from her chest upon the move. That one proposal was a real hard question. First she had considered this body to be ridiculously feminine, overdone even, but then it had begun to feel just right. Now Roger had suggested a chest size reduction. For once she didn't like the argumentation at all. He wanted her to look feral and intimidating, and that worked better with less chest size in his opinion. This though, was definitely not the way she wanted to see it.

  On the other hand, she liked to do sports and smaller breasts were more pleasant if one was jumping and bouncing for joy like she did. Hard to make up one's mind on that. In her former life she'd had much less size and it had not been a problem, well except in her mind. The grass always seemed greener on the other side.

  One thing she was sure not to agree to was a different snout. She liked her face the way it was. Capped fangs were alright, a different snout was not. What would they even do about her teeth, would there be gaps, or would she need implants? She didn't even want to think of this.

  Last but not least the question of longer legs. This one was even harder to come to terms with than her chest size. She had learned to love her legs, once she had mastered them. They were really good for running and jumping. Would they still be so good after she got bone extensions? The other pain point was, the mobsters had mentioned just this, and even for the same reason which Roger had given. Make her stand taller, more intimidating. Wrong reason again. To look intimidating was nothing she was interested in, way too many people were scared of her already. Maybe with longer legs she got better at running farther distances? But if she got more clumsy with sharp turns? Could she still do parkour in Roger's loft? How would longer legs affect jumping? Many high and long jumpers were tall people, so seemingly longer legs had an advantage there?

  She sighed the little hiss once more.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  So many questions. Trisha was against all of this, not particularly because any of these were good or bad modifications, but because Roger had proposed them. For Trisha a good modification had to be one which she wanted, one which she had come up with. Anything that someone else wanted, and even more so, offered money for, was bad. So that discussion had run dry before it actually started.

  She was woken from her thoughts when someone rubbed her forearm and she tried to focus on reality again. The dance floor had filled with people, the bar as well and a young looking man was standing at her podium, apparently trying to get her attention. She reduced the dampening on her ear protectors and waved at him, "Hello there!"

  "Hey night cat. I saw you dance the other day, may I invite you for a dance while the music is good?" He still had to shout to be heard over the loud music.

  She bared her silver coated fangs in a friendly way, "If you dare to come up here and dance with me, sure. I'm just getting rusty if I sit here all night."

  "Up there?" he asked, still shouting.

  She got into her sphinx pose to face him eye to eye, "Yep, come up here, that's the price to dance with me. I won't bite, promised. But if you touch me the wrong way, I'll throw you off the podium. Arms, shoulders and hips are alright, private parts are no touch. There's a lift in the floor, just in front of the podium. Step a bit closer and I'll bring you up."

  He seemed to hesitate, and she felt some more encouragement was needed, "Just come. It'll be fine."

  He took a step and she got up to activate the lift, which rose from the floor and slowly brought him up on her level. Once he was close enough she offered a hand to help him the last step up, "So, what's your name? I'm Vivian."

  He still seemed somewhat intimidated, "Peter."

  She grasped one of his hands, lifted her hand while holding his and spun once through the arc their arms formed before she rested her forearms on his shoulders and nudged his nose with her snout, "Nice to meet you Peter. Do you visit the club often?"

  He seemed to warm up a little now and got into moving to the music too, "Depends, lately I'm coming here more often. Haven't see you around in the past though?"

  She shook her head while she moved her body to the rhythm with him, "I'm new, it's not even been a week that I'm working here."

  He put his hands at her waist, she kept her forearms on his shoulders, and he asked "How do you like it?"

  "My job? Or the club?" she tilted her head a little.

  "Both," he let her know.

  She chuckled, "Dancing is the good part of the job. And the club is alright. No one called me names yet, no one tried to do something bad to me."

  "What's the bad part of the job?"

  "Photo shootings, safety training. Such things," she explained.

  "Ah," he nodded and smiled at her while they kept moving to the beat of the music, "I thought of other bad things."

  She smiled, "Nah, it's all fine. I just like dancing more than the rest."

  They danced without further talk for another while, teasing each other with their moves before she asked, "Hey Peter, would you still dance with me if I stood like five centimeters taller?"

  He laughed, "What sort of question is that?"

  She rose her arms and spun between his hands, "Roger wants me to get leg extensions. Can't make up my mind about the offer. He'll even pay. What do you think? Still want to dance with me if I'm your height? Maybe taller even?"

  He shrugged, held one of her hands and let her wrap herself into his arm, her back to his chest and she gave him a smile over her shoulder before he spun her free again, "I wouldn't mind. You need to ask your friends about that though, not me. The people who are important to you."

  She grinned and showed her fangs, her hands now at his shoulders, "Don't got a lot of those. Trisha is against it, Roger wants me to do it, and Frank is too far away to actually care." She shrugged, "And a friend of Roger wants me to do it too, but I guess he just says so because it was Roger's idea."

  "So, hey, would you still dance with me?" She challenged him and put a claw on his nose.

  "I would for sure," he laughed, "a taller sexy cat to dance with."

  She smiled and they danced for another while before he asked, "Hey Vivian, can I meet you some time when you're not at work?"

  She shook her head and let him feel her claws on his neck, "Nope, I'm taken."

  "Taken? And your partner is alright if you dance with other people, like this?" He questioned.

  She nodded, "He even wants me to do this."

  He laughed, "Crazy, but I don't complain if I get to dance with you here."

  The song ended, and the DJ blended over to a more atmospheric and relaxed tune and she leaned gently against him while the slowly moved together for another while, lights and sound mixing into a delightful show in the club.

  She hissed a little sigh when the tune faded, "This was nice Peter, but I'm afraid time's over. Feel free though to come back later or another day."

  "Sure will," he smiled at her and she waved at him while she lowered down the section of the podium where he had been standing.