A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

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Chapter 16 -- The Golden Goose

There were many things that had me on edge Thursday morning.

There was the makeup I'd spent half an hour getting right. Not that most people would consider that too terribly long for cosplay makeup -- and it wasn't -- but it was hardly my normal morning routine.

There was the way the lingerie I'd swallowed hard and steeled myself before donning felt next to my skin. The cotton stuff from the day before had been one thing, but today's set was some kind of stretchy silky material that was distracting for a number of reasons.

There were the thigh-high stockings I hadn't noticed in the bag until I was getting dressed that morning, and the way I'd kept having to try and find secret moments to tug them up slightly ever since putting them on, since the stickum around the top didn't seem to appreciate my nervous perspiration.

And there was the way that Brian's eyes seemed to keep getting drawn to the hem of the skirt on my dress, which had seemed a good foot longer in the mirror Wednesday than it felt sitting in the cab of Brian's truck.

The fact that I outright knew he'd gotten a panty shot when helping to lift me into the cab didn't help either.

I was used to some of those things, even the skirt, since I'd dealt with them in the past for other cons. Even Brian's gaze wasn't really anything new since seeing me in skirts always seemed to amuse him.

Still.

I did my best to ignore the feeling of the thigh-highs rubbing together as I crossed my legs and kept my gaze determinedly out my window, not even risking looking forward lest I catch Brian in my peripheral vision.

The night before had been better than the prior two, at least. We'd gotten pizza on the way home and just chilled in the living room, playing games and watching movies, almost like old times.

Almost.

So what if maybe our hands had lingered in the popcorn bowl together for longer than normal? And it wasn't a big deal that when I'd been startled by the jump scares in the movie, Brian had given my arm a squeeze of reassurance rather than teasing me.

Maybe it was worse that I fell asleep and woke up with my head on his shoulder, but it also wasn't the first time that had happened, was it?

I shook my head and went back to trying to count the trees as we zoomed past, something to stop thinking about all the things I was noticing and what they might mean.

"Are we there yet?" I asked, barely able to crack a smile at the banality of the question.

"Another ten minutes, maybe, and we'll be at the docks," Brian said, sounding just as out of sorts as I felt.

Not that what I was feeling was unpleasant. In truth, there was a large part of what I felt that I could chalk up to normal Con Jitters, though the idea of the overnight boat ride held some of its own anxiety-inspiring potential pickles. But, beyond all that, there was something else there, a feeling of....

Anticipation?

Realization?

Discovery?

I didn't know, but whatever it was, it was tying my stomach up in knots enough that I'd skipped breakfast, much to Brian's disapproval.

It was easy to find where we were supposed to go at the docks: all we had to do was find the crowd of out-of-place people in fantasy costumes and camera gear. Brian pulled into an empty spot right next to Maria's car, and almost immediately, people began to come toward us.

Brian's door was barely open before one of our show assistants was there to take his keys. That was all part of the plan: some of our show staff would be there that morning to collect our cars and take them back to the studio. From there, they would prep what they would need for recording the stage shows at the con and meet us there, and come Sunday night or Monday morning, we'd either bum rides off them to get back home or rent cars of our own.

While he was handling things with her, including showing her where my blocks were hidden behind his seat if she had trouble with the pedals, my own door was opened by none other than Aaron, looking very regal in his tabard and leather pants.

"M'lady," he said, offering me an arm and grinning as he helped me hop down from the truck, thankfully this time with no flashing involved.

"Good sir," I said back once I was safely on the ground, giving him a little dip before breaking out in what was probably a more giggly laugh than I'd have preferred. "I guess we're the last ones here?"

"Nah," Aaron said, leading me around to the back of the truck and unlatching the cover on the bed. "I volunteered to come down early with Maria. Deedee just got here about ten minutes ago and has been talking to the film crew, and Sydney still hasn't come in."

I reached into the leather satchel I carried with most of my costumes and pulled out the small pocket watch I kept in it. "Well, she has another twenty minutes before we were supposed to arrive. Thanks," I said, taking the two garment bags he handed me and watching him unload the rest of our bags.

"How much stuff did you bring?" he asked me, handing me my staff.

"Not that much!" I said, blushing and studying the stone in the top of the staff rather than looking at him. "Just a bag for accessories and makeup, and the garment bags for my costumes, and an overnight bag with some pajamas and casual clothes and other stuff just in case...."

"So all Brian has is the one bag?" he asked, holding up the garment bag from Brian's own costume and the belt that had his cosplay weapons on it.

"He just tossed his extra stuff in there," I said. "What?"

"Nothing," Aaron said, shaking his head and passing Brian's belt and bag to him as he came around the back of the truck sans keys.

"Thanks."

"No prob. Y'all need help taking these?"

"Nah, we got it," Brian said as he strapped his belt on and took both my smaller bags in one hand and his garment bag in the other.

"Sure thing. Looks like Syd's here so I'm gonna go check on her: Maria's waiting over there," Aaron said before jogging off, giving us one last wave on his way.

"You sure you don't need me to take one of those?" I asked Brian, looking at his full hands.

"Nah," he said again, hefting my bags easily and adjusting his garment bag on his shoulder. "'Sides, looks like they've got a cart over near Maria for our stuff."

"Oh, guess they do." I gave the rickety luggage cart a dubious look, but happily unloaded my bags onto it when we got there, Maria giving us a giant smile.

"Lookit, you!" She said, coming over and giving me a hug. "You look so cute!"

"Hey, what about me?"

"You look cute too," she told Brian, reaching up to pinch his cheek, though he backed away before she could. He certainly did look his part, in the "enchanted" wooden armor he'd been so stoked to show me when we'd gotten home the night before, with his olive-green gambeson underneath and mace hanging by his side. It had taken some work, but I'd even convinced him to let me do a little makeup work, too, adding just a little more definition in his cheekbones and some depth around his eyes, and a smidge of grime too.

"I love the new robe," I told her after she finished trying to chase Brian down. I meant it: Aunt Cici always made Maria these big, flowing wizard-y robes for cons, and she'd outdone herself this time around, the whole thing having this iridescent blue-green swirl to it and silver runes and stars picked out all over.

"Thanks! I do too. And best of all, this one's thin enough I shouldn't overheat in it," she said, holding one of the arm holes open so I could see the tank and shorts she was wearing underneath. "Not like that one from MagiCon last spring."

"Ooooh, yeah," I agreed, grimacing in memory. Weather predictions leading up to the con had been expecting cool temps, but Louisiana being what it is, we'd instead had one of those eighty-degree March weekends that pop up on occasion. Aunt Cici had made Maria a wool robe in expectation of the cold, and instead, she'd spent most of the convention either out of costume or guzzling water to deal with the warmth.

"Must be nice," Brian said, reaching up and tugging on the neck of his gambeson. It wasn't even ten in the morning yet, but I knew he must be warm in the layers of armor he had on. I knew Aunt Cici had tried to make everything light and breathable, but long sleeves in August in the bayou were a great way to ward off mosquitos and a terrible way to regulate body temps.

"Wanna trade?" I asked him, flipping the edge of my skirt his way.

He actually looked thoughtful for a moment. "Keep my own underwear?"

"Nope."

"No deal."

"Your loss," I said with a sigh, tossing the thankfully lightweight cape of my costume back over my shoulders.

I was just about to ask Maria a question about finances for the trip and remind her I'd need receipts from the crew when I noticed her looking off toward the other end of the parking lot with a surprised expression.

"Holy crap, he showed up."

"Who... oh!"

I turned to see what she was looking at and was just as surprised as she was to see Jonah climbing out of his beat-up Wrangler. He barely gave us a glance before opening the rear door and pulling out the long coat he always wore with his costumes and what looked like a small overnight bag.

"I honestly didn't expect you to show up," Maria said when he reached us and tossed his small duffel on the cart with the rest of our bags.

"Is that a problem?" Jonah asked, giving the rest of our group a look, his eyes lingering on me for a second too long.

"No, we have accommodations for you," Maria assured him. "But you didn't stay for any of the meetings, so we kinda assumed you weren't doing the boat."

"Yeah, well. I've been dealing with shit," Jonah said, for the first time I could remember actually looking a little apologetic. "But I'm here now, so." He shrugged, then looked at Brian again. "Nice armor."

"Oh! Thanks!"

"Looks kinda warm though," Jonah added, lifting his own jacket hanging over his arm for emphasis.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Brian said, seeming to stand a little taller and pointedly ignoring the bead of sweat rolling off his forehead.

Jonah gave me another look and frowned. "You certainly don't look too hot," he said, his gaze going straight to the generous cleavage the combination of the body suit and padded bra gave me.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. "Yeah, well--"

"It's pretty," he said, still frowning, but also... blushing?

What the heck?

"Ah--"

"HEY!"

We all turned to see Sydney rushing our way, a large bag thrown over one shoulder and her plastic battleaxe over the other. She'd added extensions to her hair, which now fell down to her waist in thick red braids, highlighting her bare midriff and the faux-fur-lined halter top she was wearing, a very much sexier version of the hide armor her character was depicted in our official campaign art. She was all smiles and only slowed down a little when she realized who was standing with us.

"Fancy seeing you here!" she said to Jonah after dropping her own bag off on the cart, which gave a dejected creak at the force of the drop.

Jonah shrugged and looked anywhere, but at the acres of flesh Sydney had on display. "Well, I'd have to be crazy to turn down a trip on the Golden Goose, right?"

"Sure thing!" Sydney said, giving him a slap on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward a foot. "Anyone been on the boat yet?" she asked the rest of us, turning to look at the boat in question.

"Not yet," Maria said, as the rest of us turned to look too. "They're loading supplies still. We're boarding here, with the crew, to make filming easier, then the boat will pull down the dock to another mooring point for the regular passengers."

I heard Maria's words, but now that I'd been reminded of the boat, I was finally taking a good, long look at it.

The Golden Goose was definitely impressive. I'd heard about it but never actually seen it, and was surprised at its appearance. I'd expected it to look like an old riverboat, with big wheels on the sides and a huge open deck. Instead, what greeted us looked more like a cruise ship, with deck after deck stacked on top and the paddle wheel itself being a huge, menacing-looking red thing strapped to the back end of the ship, towering as tall as the uppermost decks above it.

"She's got four floors above the level of the main deck," Jonah said, once again surprising us all. "Two of them are guest cabins, one of them is the dining and entertainment rooms, and one is exclusively for the casino."

"What's below the main deck?"

"Mostly storage, engines, bilge system," he said. "It's not just a passenger ship: it'd be kind of a waste given how much of the ship's interior isn't really suited for guests, so they also haul a lot of cargo along the coast while doing their tours. About half the stops it makes, they'll load and unload cargo while the passengers are off on whatever they've got set up for that stop."

"Huh," I said, watching the crew members using a small forklift to move some crates onto the ship. "Been reading up on this then?"

"Who'da thunk Jonah'd have a thing for boats!" Sydney said, going in for another shoulder slap that Jonah dodged this time.

We were all still looking toward the boat when I noticed a figure walking toward us from its direction, a tall, thin man in a suit.

"Looks like it's just about time to go," Maria said. "Everyone ready?"

"Yep!"

"Sure thing, boss."

"I guess so."

The man continued to approach us, and when he reached our group gave us all a big smile as he clapped his hands. "I take it you're the... Wednesday Knights, wasn't it?"

"That's us," Brian said, stepping next to me and putting his arm around my shoulder.

"Very good!" The man said, turning his attention to Brian and offering his hand. "I'm Thomas Sinclair, and I'm the one in charge of the production of this little special we're filming."

"Brian. And this is Leigh," Brian said, shaking his hand before pointing at me.

"Oh, you're Leigh!" The man said, looking surprised. "I apologize, I was told you were a man, so I assumed... well, anyway."

I frowned up at the tall man. He was almost as tall as Brian, but even wirier, and with a bald spot on his crown that gleamed in the morning sun. I immediately disliked him. "When are we getting started, Mr. Sinclair?" I asked him, looking back at the rest of the group, all of whom seemed equally unimpressed.

"Ah, yes. Well, they're just about finished loading the freight, then our crew will get things set up for your entrance. I'd wanted to have a script, but my employers assured me that you're all experienced with improv, is that correct?"

"It's kinda our whole deal," Aaron said, stepping up on my other side.

"That's good, then. I'll have one of my assistants come back over in about half an hour to get you, and we can get started then," Mr. Sinclair said, giving our group a small wave, then heading back where he'd come from.

I shook my head. "Does he not even know what he's filming?"

"Maybe not," Maria said, stepping up behind me. "ATG told me they had to hire someone new last minute after the guy they were bringing on got the 'rona. I'd offered to direct myself, but they said no, something about the licensing rights for the filming."

"I really need to read back over that contract when we get back home," I said, the squeeze Brian gave my shoulder doing little to calm the nerves I felt building up again.

"Sure thing. But for now, let's get ready for the boat."

"Sounds good to me."

"Already on it."

"Whatever."

I shook my head, then looked up at Brian, who was doing his best to give me a reassuring smile.

I'd been feeling relatively confident, but the director and his seeming lack of awareness of what he was even there to film had raised my hackles in a big way. We were half an hour out from boarding a floating casino and showboat for a thirty-ish hour trip, and there I was, wearing a short dress and realizing, for the first time, that I'd probably be having to show folks my ID if we spent any time in the casino at all.

Fan. Freaking. Tastic.

-==-

NOTES:

As always, comments and kudos are appreciated.