(Panned, not for any lack, but because the story seems like the start of a book)
Once upon a time Tabitha Razor stepped out. She had on her tiger’s fur coat, fake synthetic, top of the line with musk enhancements. Her dress was pure spun platinum, with thread so fine that spiders watching would have hung their heads and wept. Her shoes glittered as only pure synthetic quartz asteroid belt high heels can.
It had the desired effect on the club. The patrons, a mass of tattoos, synthetic attachments, and egos the size of small moons swiveled slowly as she walked. Two girls with prehensile monkey tail attachments greeted her as if she was a rock star, and ushered her onto the dance floor.
But Tabitha wasn’t there to dance. Oh no. There was one particular table she was interested in attracting the attention of. So she slithered across the dance floor, collecting a bevy of muscled background dancers only too keen to bump and grind as she undulated to the latest in direct-up-feed wetware techno rave music. To an out-of-the-loop outsider, the dance floor would have been silent. But Tabitha was definitely in the loop.
At the table Tabitha saw James talking to his smurf. The girl wasn’t technically entirely blue, but she was covered with the neo-Maori black light glowing blue fertility tattoos, and Tabitha saw her as an evil smurf. James on the other hand, was ultra-conservative retro-goth. He had the full eighteenth century suit, complete with cravat, top hat, and gloves. Nothing of the retro affected his chiseled good looks and his pink, uninked skin shone in the black light like a pale remonstration to his tattooed brethren.
Tabitha whipped her makeshift posse into a frenzy by activating the musk glands in the coat. It was the pure stuff, guaranteed to set off a crowd. Suddenly everyone downwind of Tabitha found themselves that much more into anyone around them.
James looked. Tabitha saw him looking. She made it clear that any one of these muscular fellows could be his replacement. But it was him she wanted. No one could look into your eyes and melt your socks like James.
With a gesture, James sent his smurf scurrying to fetch drinks and then walked out onto the dance floor. His cane, which he had no need of, doubled as a TASER. So when one of the muscle men blocked his path, James TASED him out of the way. He made a gesture to Tabitha, the universal plucking of earphones, now made archaic by the advent of the wetware up-feed. Tabitha turned off her up-feed with a double flick of her eyes and she and James stood in the silence of undulating bodies.
“I’ve missed you,” said James.
“I know,” said Tabitha.
“Shall we?” only James could put out an arm like it was both natural and the highest honor in the world. Tabitha wondered if he’d taken on a butler chip to get this good. She filed it away for later questioning. “Your smurf?” Tabitha looked back at the bar.
“I think Jennie can find her own way home, and she won’t lack for playmates.” Said James. Together they exited the club and hopped in the first hovertax at the curb. Tabitha thought to herself that even if they didn’t take the shoes back in the morning it was still worth it.