A week passed slowly for Miliam after her return to West Gate Station as she waited for someone from Abigail’s university to reach out to her. They had confirmed their receipt of the drive Abigail took with her and promised to contact Miliam once they had found a way of accessing the data on it, but that was going to take time. It was understandable; they had no way of confirming the value of what was on the storage device before then.

  Still, that left Miliam spinning her wheels on the damaged Astrum Vitae, unable to go anywhere or initiate repairs. It was a frustrating situation to be in. She had no way of knowing how long it would take the alien technology to be reverse engineered to the point that an interface could be created. On top of that, her remaining funds would only last so long. Between docking fees and paying her crew, she had only a few weeks left before running out of money.

  When she heard her grimoire chime to indicate an incoming call, Miliam snatched accepted it and had the device up to her ear because she fully registered that it was even ringing.

  “Miliam?” asked the voice on the other end. Having expected not to be contacted until there was progress- and having been warned by Abigail she would not be involved in the process this time- Miliam was surprised to recognize that very woman’s voice on the line.

  “Abigail…?” Miliam asked in turn, thinking she was imagining things.

  “Indeed. Have you been well? Abigail inquired politely.

  “It’s only been a week. I’m fine,” Miliam confirmed, unsure what this was about.

  “Excellent. I have an offer for you, should you be amenable. Would you be so kind as to allow me aboard that we may discuss in person?” Abigail requested, causing Miliam to realize the call was probably coming from right outside her ship. Abigail could have easily just used the intercom to let Miliam know she had a visitor, so it was a bit odd that she’d used this method instead.

  “Um, sure. I’ll be right down to let you in,” Miliam replied before ending the call and rushing to the airlock. Although it was the middle of the day, she ran into no one on the way there; Aoibhe and Tessa had gone out and the twins were locked in their room falling into a mobile game hole. She cycled the airlock to find Abigail standing outside, hands tucked into her sleeves and a slight smile on her face.

  “My thanks for the prompt response,” Abigail said with a bob of her head, seemingly amused by the speed at which Miliam had gotten there.

  “Uh, yeah, no problem. We can talk in my quarters, I guess, since the lounge is still gone…oh, unless you’d like a drink or something first?” Miliam told her guest nervously, only deepening her amusement.

  “While I appreciate the offer, I require no refreshments at this time. Lead on,” Abigail answered. Miliam obliged and brought her up to her room on the topmost deck, which was somewhat more spacious than the crew bunks on the middle deck but not by much. Mostly it was the lack of roommates that made it feel larger.

  After entering, Miliam took a seat on the edge of her bed and offered her only chair to Abigail. Unlike the last time she’d been in here, Abigail accepted the offer and took a seat.

  “So…what did you want to ask?” Miliam questioned once they were both seated.

  “Straight to the point, I see. Very well. Might you recall my parting words when last we spoke? My extended absence has left me working extra shifts over the last week, but I will have a day off soon, and I wished to know if you would be interested in having dinner with me on that eve,” Abigail said with that fine control of her tone and facial expressions she’d used during their first meeting. Although her tendency to sound like a talking thesaurus had the potential to come across as pretentious, her delivery managed to make it charming instead. There was no accent which Miliam could detect, but she still found herself likening it to listening to a posh British woman speak.

  “Oh, that…I-I ah…” Miliam stuttered incoherently before finding her words, her voice pitching upwards against her will. “Are you- are you asking me on a date?”

  “Indeed. That would be my intent,” Abigail confirmed.

  It wasn’t as if Miliam had no experience at all; she wasn’t even a virgin, although that was getting into her previous life. Being raised male had meant she was, at least in her small corner of the world, expected to be the one that made the advances, though. Now that she was on the receiving end she quickly discovered she had little defense against it.

  “I’d…love to, sure,” Miliam agreed once she’d managed to process that. She hoped she wasn’t making a fool of herself right now but knew it was probably in vain. Fortunately for her, Abigail didn’t seem to be turned off by that.

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  “Wonderful! I shall make a reservation, then. Does your wardrobe contain anything appropriate for fine dining?” Abigail asked, to which Miliam was forced to shake her head in denial.

  “I have a sort of dress uniform, but I don’t think that’s what you mean…” she replied, a bit embarrassed by the admission. When she’d been clothes shopping she hadn’t ever expected she’d need something that fancy.

  “Not to worry; I expected as such due to your circumstances,” Abigail assured Miliam. “I opted to pay you a visit rather than calling for that very reason. If you have the time, we can solicit the services of a tailor. I happen to know that a friend of mine received a cancellation this afternoon and would be happy to fit us in.”

  “Isn’t tailoring expensive? I really can’t afford that right now. I need everything I have to tide us over until that data pays off,” Miliam replied with furrowed brows.

  “Consider it a gift. If that is unacceptable, then a loan. Bear in mind that on such a limited timeframe it will not be possible to commission a truly custom outfit; you will instead be receiving one which is premade and adjusted to fit your body perfectly, which is far less expensive,” Abigail clarified.

  “Mm…fine, but I’m definitely paying you back. You still said it would be less expensive, not inexpensive. I can’t let you just give me a pricy gift for a first date,” Miliam insisted. In response, Abigail chuckled pleasantly and put a palm to her cheek.

  “Now, now, it is hardly an imposition upon me. I would like to see you at your best for our outing. But I will not push the matter. So am I to take it that you are available for a fitting at this moment?” Abigail asked.

  “Yeah, I can go now,” Miliam sighed. “It’s not like I can do much except wait for updates right now anyway.”

  “Splendid. Give me one moment to notify my friend of our imminent arrival and then we shall be on our way,” Abigail said as she stood, already retrieving her grimoire. By the time she reached the door she’d already placed the call.

  Miliam fell back into her bed and let out a all the air in her lungs. She had butterflies in her stomach and they weren’t even going on the date today. Internally, a kernel of self-doubt had her questioning why Abigail was even so interested in her. In the past Miliam had never felt so insecure about her romances, but she was practically a different person now- perhaps her new identity wasn’t yet solidified enough for her to feel confident in herself.

  A part of her even questioned if she had a right to pursue Abigail, given the circumstances of her birth, but that was likely just a bit of internalized transphobia peaking its head out. After all, Abigail already knew everything about how Miliam had came to have her current form and, more importantly, that she’d looked very different before then. If it didn’t bother Abigail, why should it bother Miliam?

  Before Abigail could find her splayed out on her bed looking like a wet rag, Miliam pushed herself out of bed and stood. She didn’t need to do much to prepare to leave; her wardrobe was pretty limited and living aboard a ship with her crew had accustomed her to dressing as if she’d be in public every day. All she had to do was ensure she had her grimoire on her.

  “I spoke with Asbolus; he knows to expect us. Are you ready?” Abigail asked as she stepped back in, just as Miliam pocketed her grimoire. Nodding, Miliam turned to follow.

  “Then we shall be on our way,” Abigail acknowledged. The two of them headed down to the airlock and left the ship, stepping into the hustle and bustle of West Gate Station. As always, Miliam was stunned by the crowd which was far more diverse than any on 21st century Earth. Unlike her first visit to the station, she now knew that most the ‘aliens’ she could see here were in fact humans in a taxonomic sense; descendants of many different members of the homo genus which had gone extinct on Earth.

  Actual aliens were mixed into the crowd as well. She recognized the sahagin, piscine bipeds so used to living in the crushing depths of the abyssal ocean that they wore pressure suits on the surface. There was the rare carillion, a lanky species with a small and snail-like shell on their lower backs that rarely left their own nation’s borders. Miliam even caught a glimpse of a tariaksuq, which she remembered Aoibhe had mentioned when they first arrived on the station. They were easily identified by their antlers and the cloth wrappings that covered them from head to toe- ironic considering that they apparently hated being seen.

  Others she couldn’t put a name to. Especially curious was a creature that resembled a veiny balloon with no apparent eyes and many thin and weak tendrils hanging from their floating bodies. She wondered what it was, but it was gone from her view before she could ask Abigail.

  “So, how fancy are these clothes going to be, anyway?” Miliam asked uncomfortably, refocusing her attention to Abigail, who looked back over her shoulder without slowing.

  “That may be difficult to explain considering your background. Your expectations likely differ greatly from current fashion trends,” she replied. Miliam took it as a cue to share what her own definition of formal clothing were.

  “I’ve only ever worn suits before,” she admitted. Granted, she’d also spent an embarrassingly large amount of time looking up fancy dresses online, but it wasn’t as if she’d ever worn one, nor did she have the sort of cultural context for fashion she might have developed for women’s clothing if she’d been raised as one.

  “Ah, I should have guessed as much. My apologies. It may be best, then, to hold off on any detailed explanations until we arrive. Nothing I am likely to tell you will do the reality justice,” Abigail said in place of a proper explanation. That certainly piqued Miliam’s curiosity. She wasn’t sure what to expect to begin with, but now she was expecting something fantastical by her own standards. Her only reference was what she’d heard from Aoibhe; namely that expensive clothes tended to be hand-made and include enchantments.

  But she lacked any way of knowing what those enchantments would be like. From Abigail’s statement, Miliam suspected her mind was about to be blown by the possibilities of magic once again.