Who Says Blondes Have More Fun? (For Sarah)

     The perfect duplicate of her slender form twirled with her as Kearna twisted in front of the massive mirror. Fluffing her flame-red hair, the cat narrowed her eyes, examining herself critically. Dark green silk clad her slender form, hugging her curves gently, making soft noises with every motion. Running her fingers along the scooped neck of the gown, Kearna Tierney stopped twirling and frowned.

     "Damn, I knew that hem wasn’t straight," she growled softly, tugging at the skirt. Her roommate, Sierra Masters, sat in a nearby chair, long jean-clad legs stretched out before her, and rolled her eyes.

     "You’ve said that about every damn dress, Kearna," the blonde grumbled. "This is not a wedding you’re talking about."

     Kearna preened for a moment, stroking her milk-white skin. "I know. But it’s still a very important dinner. He’s interesting in funding a new restaurant in town, and I want to make a good impression."

     "So why don’t you just cook for the man and forget about the seduction part?" Sierra was always annoyingly blunt, never more so than when she was bored senseless from five hours of watching Kearna try and reject gowns. She pushed at her long braid, glancing at the dress. "There’s nothing wrong with that one. It looks nice."

     Kearna sighed impatiently, tugging at the delicate fabric. "It has to do more than look nice. I can look nice with anything in my closet. What I’m trying to do is look irresistable."

     Sierra rolled her eyes with an expressive sigh. "Oh. And here I just thought you were being picky." She shifted in her chair again, recrossing her feet. "And you still didn’t answer me about that seduction thing."

     "Oh, Sierra," the cat purred, lifting a pale blue silk shift and holding it against herself. "Do you really think he’s just looking at food? It’s never just that." She turned, checking the line of the gown’s back. "Food is something he can simply sample. Would you want a heavy woman covered in grease coming to your table to ask you how the meal is? No, no, no. It’s all presentation. If I look luscious, he will snap at the bait. Believe me. You can get a man to stop in his tracks with a single look, if you try."

     Sierra arched an eyebrow. "What, cause I’m blonde? You know I fucking hate those jokes."

     Kearna flipped her flame-red hair. "I’m not blonde, and I can do it."

     "You fucking cannot."

     The cat laughed softly, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? Would you care to wager on that?"

     The cowgirl frowned. "What kinda wager?"

     Kearna crossed her arms, her emerald eyes narrow. "I win, you come to dinner with me…in a dress. You win, I ride one of those god-awful horses you and Slate are always bugging me about."

     Sierra tilted her head, her own gaze narrow, then nodded once. "Okay." Kearna’s smug expression made her immediately regret this idea, considering how much she hated gowns, but once committed… "No picking some easy target. I get to pick the guy."

     The cat nodded, slithering from the dark green gown and tugging on a sheer white sheath. "Very well." Stepping off of the small platform, she turned back and forth, examining herself in the mirror before grinning at Sierra. "Pick your target."

     Together, the women moved into the boutique’s showroom, with its massive picture window, and Sierra leaned over to watch the street, waiting for a tough nut to come into view. The cowgirl frowned at the number of college students and middle-aged business men…way too easy. She frowned a little more, then grinned suddenly. "This one! This one! The guy in the suit!" Diving out of the way, she pushed Kearna towards the window.

     The cat strolled to the window, moving into a patch of sunlight, and adjusted the fall of her vibrant hair, giving Sierra an evil wink. Turning to face the street, her red lips curved in a smile and she simply waited.

     Ross frowned at his datebook as he hurried down the sidewalk. Papers to grade…lectures to give…hell, he hadn’t even gotten any more progress on his own research! If it wasn’t for Claire’s help with some of the students he had to deal with, Ross didn’t know if he’d ever get his thesis done. Glancing up to reassure himself that he wasn’t about to walk into a pole, he picked up his pace. Life never slowed down long enough to get anything done, and Ross felt that he was missing something with this…focus on work. Work, work…His head snapped around at the flash of red. For a moment…the world narrowed to a single moment as Ross’s gaze met a pair of sparkling emerald green eyes. She was utterly captivating, with hair the

color of fire framing a beautiful, feline face. Her red lips were curved in a secretive smile, and what the white dress revealed…Ross froze, simply…staring.

     "LOOK OUT!"

     With a crash, a massive thud and a lot of groaning, the bike messenger picked himself back up, glaring at the prone Ross. "What the hell, man? Can’t you fucking look before you space out? Hell! That hurt!" He looked at his bloody knees, then growled. "How am I supposed to deliver stuff on time like this? Christ, man! Don’t DO that!" He growled, yanking his bike up off of the sidewalk, scattering Ross’s datebook and briefcase. The nametag gleamed as the messenger threw a leg over his bike, and Ross read the name ‘Robin’ as the man pedaled off, tossing a rude gesture back at the prone student. Ross sat up, rubbing his head, his eyes darting back to the now-empty window. For a moment, he wilted in disappointment…then realized his datebook was halfway across the street in the mouth of some copper-colored alley dog. "HEY!" Leaping to his feet, he dashed off after the scared animal, waving his hands.

     Sierra and Kearna collapsed in each other’s arms, laughing hysterically. The cowgirl leaned against the wall, wiping her eyes. "Did ya see that guy’s face? He looked like he’d seen God or something!"

     Kearna grinned. "I told you I could do it."

     Sierra laughed. "Yeah, no kid-" Her laughter abruptly ended as she glared at Kearna. "You bitch. You tricked me!"

     The cat grinned a little more widely. "Who, me?"

     "Yeah, you! You knew you could do it all along! Did you practice?"

     Kearna laughed, slinking back into the dressing room. "Honey, when you’re me…you don’t have to practice." She winked. "I’ll find you a nice dress. Maybe something to set off your hair?" Humming to herself, she glided into the dressing room, leaving an echo of laughter. Sierra watched her for a moment, then punched the wall.

     "Motherfu-" Growling, she turned and stomped into the dressing room, shoulder slumped in resignation. She really, really hated it when Kearna won like that.