It was nearly sunset when Diana entered the office. He looked up at her. Never in his life could he consider bedding this creature, though. She looked beautiful, but that was a mask, hiding an oversized Gila Monster underneath. Both literally and figuratively, in her case. Also, she seemed to lack maturity, for all her power.

"Let's hurry up with this meeting! I have plans for tonight!" barked she.

Any ordinary mortal would've winced at that tone, but his years in power would not let something like that show. "Congradulations. I hope you have a good time."

Diana looked at him with sparkling eyes, but said nothing. He reminds me so much of my father, before he was murdered. I can't see having a "good time" with him.

She spoke. "The salt water processing plant is now ready to go into operation."

"Good, Diana. Shall we discuss the profit share? Part of the money and the water is to go to Los Angeles in return for the plant's location in Los Angeles territory, which will protect it."

Luckily for him, Diana didn't seem to mind that aspect, as long as she got most of the water. He agreed to this deal to prevent the Visitors from siphoning off the Los Angeles River, as they were wont to do during the First Occupation. She bargained with him.

"Ten percent?"

"Fifteen."

"Agreed."

Well, this is one horny bitch today, to put up so little a fight. But, this too did not show on his face. He cordially shook hands with her.

"Agreed," he replied. "Mr. Chang will escort you to the door. I know you'd like to get going now."

Diana nodded her head silently, showing no indication that she'd received that little barb from him. Then she went out the door.

Julie had heard the exchange through the intercom. It nauseated her to hear Diana's voice so frequently. But it was necessary if she was to give information to the resistance, so her presence here was vital.

Well, Julie thought to herself, I hope that unfortunate lizard stud will keep her busy for a while. That way, the city of Los Angeles won't have to worry about her for one, whole night. And maybe in the morning, too, I pray. As for me, I have work to do here. Maybe I'll develop something that will get rid of a horn-ball, genocidal maniac . . .

She bent down to her work again.

Diana didn't go back to the Mothership at all, but detoured to the Visitor embassy. She went past the giant portrait of herself without stopping to admire it, as she usually did. Hardly anything else around her registered on her radar screen, either.

She was in her private office in no time. There was a special chest she kept there, one meant to look like a decoration to anyone looking at it. Except her.

Next door in the other room, some junior officers were throwing themselves a party. They were playing human rock music. Burning Down The House, by the Talking Heads, she surmised. And later on tonight, they'll all be rutting on the floor like crivits in mating season.

But she couldn't be bothered by that. For tonight, she was doing something far more on the edge than that. She was going to play The Game.

She felt an almost girlish giddiness as she took the implements out of the chest, and began strapping them to herself. Diana then reached into the chest to take out a black, flexible skin-tight uniform that she will exchange her white one for. One could not achieve the goal she was reaching while being so very visible. The Game required absolute stealth, or else one's very life could be lost. Both her own life, and the life of the person who was the object of her desire.

When she was suited up, she looked down at herself. She felt like a true creature of the night, ready to hunt down her prey, with the black uniform clinging to her curves. She opened a window and crept outside. Diana wanted as few people as possible seeing her. It added to the tension and excitement she felt.

Diana knew full well the way to her beloved prey from here at the embassy. She could see the bus that would take her there. When it came close, she grabbed on, lifted herself to the top of the bus, and secured herself there with suction cups.

The passengers of the bus had no idea that the Commander of Los Angeles was stuck to their ride like a fly on the wall. She let herself feel the vibration of the vehicle as it made its route, and the wind whipped across her back and rump. Ooooohhh, exquisite . . .

When she came to the street she needed, Diana detached herself from the bus. People had seen her climb off of the bus, but she paid them no heed. They even expressed admiration for her. She walked the rest of the way.

She was now entering the crucial part. She knew from observation that her target would not be coming home until late, as was usual on a week-night. But she had to be inside the apartment before the target came home, or risk failure. Failure meant being taken into custody by Nathan Bates' hired men. Or worse.

She checked around to see anyone watching her, because she didn't want any witnesses to this little crime. The apartment had state-of-art security in it, but she had an encrypter equal to the task.

Once Diana was inside, she inspected the interior, and took a deep breath. Fear and exhiliaration coursed through her veins at once. She dropped down in front of the couch and drank in the scent of the person who sat there on a regular basis. Immediately her crotch wetted like fresh rain on the grass. It was the unmistakable smell of Julie.

But . . . where to hide?

Ahhhhhh . . . underneath the couch. So obvious. It's not like she'll look under there, but there's always a chance she will, no matter how slim. But, it added to the danger.

She took the chance of looking further into the apartment before going into hiding. The bathroom had a nice clean look to it. Quite a lovely smell, too. Diana went over to the toilet, and without further ado, commenced to relieve herself. She thought briefly about leaving the content in the toilet for Julie to find, but it was too risky. She flushed it.

With her hands now fully rinsed, she went to her hiding place. There Diana would wait and rest.

Diana woke from her rest when someone entered the apartment. Alertness! She saw lights go on, and heard a keychain crash on the kitchen table, and a ragged, tired, sigh. Diana could see Julie's feet in high heels, but the rest of her was obscured. The lights went back out again as footsteps made for the bedroom. It would take a few more hours to make sure that Julie was asleep. But Diana knew she would be tired enough not to stay up too late. Patience was required. Diana rested some more; after that she'll be ready for the task at hand.

Hours passed. The apartment was still. Diana exited from underneath the couch. She removed the phone jacks from the wall, right up to the one in Julie's bedroom. No use the risk of someone calling. All this she did without making a single sound.

She then turned to Julie herself. Nothing could be seen of her except a tuft of blond, curly hair sticking outside of the cover. Diana smiled. Now don't you be frightened on me, Julie . . . don't you fret. If you wake, we both lose the Game.

Quite literally. Secreted into the bodysuit of Diana's wrists held darts which could incapacitate Julie. If she woke, Diana would use them, and Julie would go up to the mothership for another round of conversion. The Game's risk for Diana is that Julie would overpower her in some way, or that something else might happen.

With Julie still underneath the bedcovers, Diana stroked her from on top, gently. Ragged breaths escaped from her mouth, and, with the exception of Julie, the world for Diana ceased to exist.

Diana hoped fervently that Julie's conversion would overcome her, and that she would not awake into full consciousness. Julie was still, even after being stroked. Good. Diana lifted the bedcovers from her face. It is an ever so sound sleep. She risked a stroke of Julie's cheek. Still no movement. She must know what's going to happen to her if she fights me, or else why so still? I know she isn't that sound a sleeper . . . but I mustn't get overzealous here. I'm not on the Mothership.

She gave Julie her full concentration. Move onto your back, Julie. You know I'm not going to hurt you now, especially since you know the full extent of what I'm capable of.

Diana stared at her hard, repeating the command, mind to mind. Julie's sleeping face looked worried, but she moved onto her back as instructed. Oh, good . . .

Diana's blood throbbed through her veins as she untied the knot to Julie's silken nightgown. She was naked underneath except for panties. No problem. Diana removed these with her surgeon's laser. She touched Julie's soft, mammalian fur after that cotton impediment was removed. Diana blew out her breath and smiled. Now open up.

Julie's face seemed to pinch at that command, and her body stiffen. Diana noticed. Spread your thighs, Julie. How else am I to inspect you? Diana's mental voice had the feel of doctor performing an examination. Diana helped her in this task by moving one of her legs outwards, ever so carefully. Don't wake . . .

She cupped her hands over Julie's entire mound, and kept it there to relax her. Julie had been naked when she'd been Diana's prisoner a year ago, but this situation was different, because now, neither woman had complete control or lack thereof. Diana took her hand off of Julie so she could see what she looked like. Diana could see in the dark quite well, enough that she could drink in the details of Julie's pink folds, surrounded by hair.

It's one thing to see it on your own bodysuit, but another to see it on a real human, especially . . . Diana clamped down on that thought immediately. If Diana started thinking of the word "enemy", then Julie would wake.

And where would The Game be then?

But Diana didn't come here just to experience Julie. I've got something for you. While still holding firmly onto Julie's folds, Diana quietly unzipped her black uniform, and carefully brought Julie's hand to her mirror opposite. It's green in color. Lighter at the tips, and a darker green as you go inward.

Diana started caressing Julie in her area. You can do the same, but don't manhandle it, because it's just as sensitive as yours.

A curious expression came over Julie's sleeping face, but she wouldn't respond. Diana began to feel fear, then suppressed it. She continued caressing, this time reinforcing the caress in Julie's mind with each stroke. There. There. There. There. Th. Th. Th.

Julie started to stroke. Theeeeerrre . . . .

Whenever Diana would stroke her softly, so did Julie in return. Whenever Diana fussed with Julie's furry mound, Julie would feel the the smooth leather of her scales in return. But don't wake, don't wake. Come to me, Julie. Come to me. I can make it go away.

Diana took a risk at those last words, because they were associated with pain for Julie. But there was nothing but pleasure here. Let's go. go. Ah. Ah.

They were squeezing and thrusting mindlessly into each other at this point. She looked down to see Julie's face tight in concentration. Diana shut her eyes tight in response to that, her throat almost coming to a growl. Thrust. Thrust. Bring it, bitch. Bring it here. Diana took hold of Julie's other hand to help her. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thr . . . .

uh .. uh .. uh .. ........... There was a simultaneous cry, an alien sound with an Earthly one, and eternity of a crescendo. Then they came back down.

When Diana was sure that Julie was unconscious, she collapsed on the floor to breathe. A convulsive laughing started in Diana, from the abdomen up. I won The Game, it seems. But not completely. Everything must be put back in proper order. She zipped up her uniform, put Julie's nightgown the way it was, and put the covers over her. Put the phone jacks back in. Made sure nothing was left on the floor.

She looked back down at Julie again. "It seems that you won The Game as well. Didn't know you had it in you to play . . ."

Then she leered. "But then, I did know, didn't I?" She paused again.

"Good night, Julie," and reached down to kiss the side of her forehead.

She slipped out of the house. Julie slept soundly.

Julie bent down to her work again. She listened as usual to the banter of Bates and Diana. The ocean water processing plant was up and running, a feat acceptable to the Visitors, to Bates, and to most of the Resistance. Most. It could've been worse, though, like the Los Angeles River being sucked up dry.

But today she felt different. Diana's voice didn't sound as irritating as it had yesterday. Also, she wasn't quite as afraid of it as she had been. And wondered, for more than one moment, where that confidence had come from. She didn't make the connection to the fact that when she woke this morning, she had no underwear on, and her vulva felt like it'd been manhandled.