Mimi

The days that followed were spent with Shin catching up on all the details as they got used to being together again.

He felt guilty for having disappeared for so long, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Things had changed too much in ten years. Little by little, the bond between TF and the Armitage Foundation had weakened after Wingate Peaslee had withdrawn from the University three years earlier. The new authorities were trying to diminish the foundation's power in light of changes in policies and academic leadership.

Wingate was also in very poor health, yet he had not lost his former curiosity or his drive toward the unknown—even though his heart condition had deteriorated considerably over the years. Too many years of adventure took their toll on humans. And in Wingate's case, he was already over eighty.

Eighty-five long years that had seen what others might call ten lifetimes. After all, from a young age, Wingate had been connected to the occult world due to what had happened to his father, Nathaniel Wingate Peaslee, who had also been a professor at the same Miskatonic University. That strange adventure, decades ago, had also been one of the main reasons he devoted much of his life to psychology and the study of the mind, later connecting with the feys, then with the Armitage Foundation, and eventually with Tempus Fugit.

But those experiences, like many adventures, now felt more like distant echoes from the past.

Lizbeth and Shin took several walks with the old colleague, now wheelchair-bound, while reminiscing about some of those adventures. Mimi also accompanied them, now curious about Shin and Lizbeth's past.

Yet it felt strange—they could not deny it.

Wingate stood in sharp contrast to the energetic man who had once fought alongside them on Runen Island, or in the adventures that followed. Meanwhile, the feys had not aged a bit.

In Wingate's case, he had no regrets about growing old, except for his disappointment in the new university authorities.

During their gatherings and meals, the friends recalled the adventures they had lived so many decades ago, facing all kinds of dangers around the world. Sometimes these were connected to the arcane, sometimes to the perils of the Cold War. Sometimes a little of both—because even spies could meddle with things they shouldn't, and sooner or later, they would have to flee somewhere to escape danger. Tempus Fugit, after all, was what kept itself balanced on a gray line.

Over the years, they had faced hundreds of dangers, most of them short adventures where they would come together to collaborate on something. Lizbeth, although she had tried to keep a little distance from danger, had always tried to help when it involved her friends and acquaintances. She found it curious that, despite Shin's curse, the time they had spent together had not produced as many adventures as one might expect. Almost all of those adventures had caught them apart, and they had to reunite with their old comrades to solve whatever crises arose.

But more than the dangers and dramatic situations, recalling their adventures carried a nostalgic weight, and time gave a new perspective to it all.

At times, the stories slid from solemnity into sheer absurdity.

In a new night barbecue in the backyard the group remembered the night on the Baltic freighter, when an explosion had sent them sprinting through corridors thick with smoke. For years, Shin had sworn it was sabotage, some arcane device planted by an enemy cabal. Only later had Wingate admitted that the "curse" had been nothing more than the ship's boiler finally giving up its last breath. The memory now drew more laughter than dread.

Wingate, Gehirn, and Leon recalled the adventure in Antarctica, one of the most dangerous, which Shin had always tried to hide to keep Lizbeth from worrying. That was where she learned he had survived two atomic bombs during what was called Operation Highjump. But in reality, they had rediscovered an entire city in an evanescent space that had vanished from history. The details of that adventure earned Shin a sharp rap on the head that scared Mimi. Lizbeth could be frightening when angry, though the rest of them received her scolding of Shin with laughter.

Another time, with all the gravity of seasoned agents, they infiltrated what they believed was a covert military base—maps spread out, coded signals exchanged, every step a whisper of espionage. They had braced themselves for enemy soldiers, only to discover rows upon rows of burlap sacks filled with potatoes. "The starch arsenal of the Cold War," Lizbeth quipped, raising her glass.

Wingate, even in his frailty, still defended his old theories with a stubborn spark. "That obsidian dagger was cursed," he muttered, his voice a rasp. Shin, however, could not help but remind him that they had once used the relic to slice cheese during a particularly hungry night in the desert. Lizbeth nearly choked on her wine, adding, "Yes, cursed with blue cheese." "Who eats cheese in a desert? Weren't you thirsty afterwards?" asked Gehirn.

And of course, there was the endless debate over numbers. Mari's memory insisted they had faced fifty armed cultists in Bucharest. "Three guards," Lizbeth corrected, shaking her head. "Three guards, half-asleep, and a dog that wouldn't stop sniffing our packs." The dog, she claimed, had been the only real threat.

Their "espionage," once the stuff of whispered legends, was remembered now as nights spent freezing atop rooftops, waiting for signals that never came, with nothing but a useless map and an empty thermos for comfort.

Even the feys, timeless and aloof, seemed amused when Shin described the "deadly duel" with a cultist that had ended abruptly because the man tripped over his own robe and tumbled down a staircase. A case that had ended in the most absurd way possible—a broken neck. They had blamed Shin, but he refused, saying that they had to get that dead body out of his closet—was the staircase's doing, not his.

Lizbeth, slightly flushed, recalled one of the last adventures before Shin's disappearance, the one where they had encountered a necromancer onmyōji who called himself Tengu—because of his absurdly long nose—and who captured feys for his experiments. It was during that escapade, as Akerbeltz remembered with a gravelly laugh, that he had first met Mari later. Shin had been used as bait and ended up trapped inside a magical bubble… butt naked.

Akerbeltz recounted, nearly choking on his laughter, but trying to imitate the voices. "The necromancer stared at him and said: 'That's disgusting, what is that thing between your legs?'And this son of a bitch all serious said: 'It's called a penis… you've got one too... between your eyes.'"

Gehirn and Wingate both turned toward Shin in unison. "What the hell did you actually show him?" they asked together.

Lizbeth only sighed smiling, but still blushing. "I can confirm." Mimi nodded too.

Mari, ever regal and impossible to embarrass, was pouting when Lizbeth recalled with a straight face the night they fled across the rooftops of Alexandria with Nitocris, John NoEyebrows, and Laren.

"You were all running as if the Wild Hunt itself were chasing you and it alerted the rest of us," she said. "But truly, it was only a librarian with a lantern, furious that you had torn a page from the archives."

Mari tried to protest, insisting the text had been crucial to their mission, but Lizbeth reminded her that the page in question had turned out to be a recipe for a magical aphrodisiac lentil stew.

Akerbeltz, with his gravelly laugh, recounted the time they had attempted to invoke a protection spell in a farmhouse in Navarra. The ritual had required silence and precision, yet halfway through, Shin sneezed so loudly that the candles blew out. In the ensuing confusion, Wingate tripped, Nitocris rolled her eyes, and Lizbeth cursed in three languages. "And still," Akerbeltz said between chuckles, "the goat outside was the only creature truly protected that night."

They also spoke of Paris, where Nitocris had insisted they dress properly for what she deemed "an infiltration worthy of style." Cloaks, masks, and solemn preparation had led them into the vaulted cellars of a supposed occult society—only to find only Wingate knee-deep in barrels of cheap wine. They had arrived a day late, and Wingate, following his own separate investigation, had arrived before them—but had hidden himself in a half-filled barrel. That explained his drunken state and how he nearly died if they hadn't found him. They would later dismantle the secret society, but the absurd anecdote lingered in memory far more than the fight that had followed in the streets of Paris.

Even their brushes with true danger carried absurd echoes. Akerbeltz described a skirmish in Lisbon with West German spies who were supposedly carrying enchanted firearms. When pressed, however, it turned out the so-called agents were simply smugglers with faulty pistols—more dangerous to themselves than to anyone else.

Leon leaned back on the chair with a smile of ancient patience. "Mortals," he sighed. "Always believing their toys are relics of power." Shin used his foot to push the chair, and Leon ended up on his ass on the floor.

The laughter at the table rose and fell, sometimes tinged with coughs or pauses heavy with memory, but always circling back to the same realization: what had once been terror was now sometimes remembered with humor, and what had bound them together was not always the glory of their victories, the sadness of their failures, but also the ridiculous, very human—and fey—messes they had survived together.

All those anecdotes made them reflect on how much time had truly passed. There were enough stories to fill libraries. Yet the mere fact that they were here, and that their friendships had endured so many decades, regardless of whether one was human or fey, proved the bond that had united them.

Mimi seemed genuinely interested, though a little distant from it all, even as Lizbeth and Shin tried to make her feel comfortable.

While Shin was showing Mimi why she shouldn't eat ice cream with mimic skills, using an extra mouth open on her shoulder, Lizbeth glanced at Wingate. The old man was watching the three of them and smiling. Lizbeth returned the smile, he must have been genuinely happy to be surrounded by so many friends. Shin's return had given them that possibility, even if not everyone was present. Many old comrades were missing, and others had already passed. But those who remained had to carry on.

Two days later, Wingate returned to his beloved East Arkham—much relieved that Shin had finally come back, and that he was not a shapeshifter.

***

During that time also Gehirn and some of the others were leaving. There was work to do and they had stopped everything to come and see Shin. Gehirn told Shin that some people had been looking for him in his absence, but Lizbeth did not know who they were.

Mari and Akerbeltz returned to Spain and Leon to Onigashima Island. The other old acquaintances gradually withdrew until there were only three people left in the house. Leon had told them that they could stay as long as they wanted. It was a safe house anyway and they had only used it a couple of times.

Shin for his part decided that it would be better for them to go to a place near a coast, so that Mimi would feel more comfortable and so would Lizbeth—they liked beaches after all. But before that, the three spent a few days in the company of Svetlana and Michael.

Svetlana looked a little worried at her brother, but said nothing more, only recommending that Lizbeth and Mimi put chains on her foolish brother so that he would not disappear again. Mimi did not fully understand, but said she would do her best. Considering that Lizbeth had already seen what Mimi could do with the appendages growing from her body and her mimic abilities, she hoped she wouldn't take it too literally.

Shin was worried because he saw that his beloved little sister had aged too much and that her health and Michael's was no longer what it used to be. They lived off their pension but still had their beloved bookshop, the old couple didn't want to part with their books. Shin and Lizbeth would have stayed longer, but Svetlana told them not to worry about her and to continue with their project. They had been apart for too long, and it was time to make up for some of that time lost, now with someone else as well, since Mimi was with them.

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Shin, after checking the savings he had left in Gehirn's care, withdrew some money to rent a house on an eastern beach.

During that time Lizbeth grew closer to Mimi.

The girl was cute, although she could seem quiet and shy sometimes, but also really curious. That was until she got to know her a little better. She also sometimes had certain habits that revealed that she was not quite used to society. Out of her money Lizbeth took her shopping for clothes—because the clothes Shin had bought for her, aside the dress, almost made her look like she was part of the army.

One fact that did catch Lizbeth's attention was that Mimi could hide her tail when she wanted to, even though she didn't like it. She said it threw her balance off a bit when she walked.

Lizbeth also got to know Mimi's real form. For anyone who had seen her, without knowing her before, it would surely be a terrifying experience. Mimi could grow appendages on her back that almost branched out like tree branches, but took on an almost wing-like shape, and at other times could transform into tentacles.

Those appendages were a deep red color and at the junction with the back it glowed an electric blue color. It produced a slightly frightening sensation at first, but it was actually quite beautiful to look at. Those branching appendages Mimi could use for attack, and even move at high speed in three dimensions without using her normal legs.

On the other hand, because of the life Shin had had with Mimi, Lizbeth was sure that Mimi was holding back a little.

Shin had noticed this too and didn't know how to react. He didn't say anything, but he was feeling a little embarrassed by the presence of both of them. She had told him that he should at least sleep with Mimi. Shin told her that the last time he had been intimate with Mimi was before leaving the island, and since then, until they arrived in the United States, they had tried to keep their distance.

One didn't have to be a genius to see the sexual tension between the two. Mimi sometimes shared the bed with them to sleep. But the three of them felt awkward. Lizbeth knew it, and she knew Shin did too. It felt exactly like that time with Milena and Sari.

Before long the two hit it off, but Lizbeth could detect that she felt a little strange with her around. Mimi had almost no concept of personal space. Mimi would come up to her face to study her, or surprise her from behind—touching her ears while she was reading. Since Mimi had learned where to tickle her or scare her, there was never a moment when Lizbeth could let her guard down.

"What pretty eyes you have."

When she told her that, Lizbeth felt a little strange. It almost reminded her of the story of Little Red Riding Hood. Whatever the wolf had said, it hadn't ended well for Little Red Riding Hood.

"You have freckles."

"They're not very noticeable... only when I blush too much."

"They look cute..."

"Why are you drooling?!"

"I'm not drooling." Mimi said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

I hope she doesn't bite me too, Lizbeth thought to herself.

But Mimi never bit her. But that didn't mean she couldn't. Lizbeth reminded herself that this girl had once torn a chunk out of Shin's neck. And yet, the way she looked at her—curious, unthreatening—made her hesitate to pull away.

But personal space didn't really exist for her. She smelled them both and did not discriminate between touching them both. Shin explained that basically for a long time Mimi had used it as a form of primal language with him. Now, while she could talk, she had never given up those habits of smelling and touching as a form of communication.

Lizbeth blushed like a tomato when she awoke one day to find Mimi examining her breasts to close. It reminded her of what Shin had told her and she shivered.

"These are cute...and smell good, they look like two big pomelos."

Lizbeth's mouth opened, closed, opened again. Her brain briefly short-circuited. Pomelos?

"Th-thank you...?" she stammered blushing, clutching the bedsheet like a lifeline.

Mimi only smiled, mischieviously, showing her sharp teeth. As if she'd just commented on the weather.

Luckily that day went no further even though the sniffing and physical contact continued. Mimi had behaved demurely when the others had been around. But now that it was just the three of them she seemed to have taken things shamelessly.

Lizbeth had told herself she wouldn't be jealous—and she wasn't. After all, she and Shin had never hidden their openness with each other. But knowing it while they were apart and seeing it now were two very different things. Watching Mimi curl against him so easily, so naturally, was like watching a new rhythm replace an old song. And Lizbeth wasn't sure yet if she knew the lyrics of the chorus.

No, it wasn't jealousy. She couldn't deny it. She liked watching them.

But she also couldn't stay behind. Mimi was coming at her too. The touches and brushes made her feel a little insecure about what might happen. Mimi was clever—instinctively intimidating in that way—but a part of Lizbeth worried. Was Mimi acting this way because of her closeness to Shin, or was she trying something with Lizbeth as well?

She had asked herself in the first few days, but as time passed, both of them let go a little. This was a new situation, and they would have to deal with it as it unfolded.

Lizbeth knew that on more than one occasion Shin had watched them when Mimi approached her like that. He had to know something was happening.

One night, while the three were watching a movie, Mimi looked at both of them, tilting her head with the sincerity only she could muster.

"You smell the same," she said. "Like you belong together. I like that."

Where did that come from? Lizbeth thought, putting her beer on the table.

Lizbeth blinked, unable to decide if she should laugh, cry, or just throw herself at her. Shin coughed into his sleeve, nearly choking on a sip of whiskey he had in his hands.

Mimi leaned against Lizbeth's stomach, pressing close and tickling her navel with her nose, while draping her legs over Shin's lap.

The two exchanged a glance, swallowing hard.

"You both smell like you're turned on right now." Mimi said mischievously, wagging her tail from side to side.

Mimi's fingers brushed against her hand, and Mimi breathed in her stomach. Lizbeth felt a shiver—not from cold, but from the sensation of those delicate, yet alien, touches. She couldn't decide whether to pull away or lean in. She glanced at Shin, whose own expression was a mix of concern and barely contained amusement.

"One... two... three…"

"What are you doing?"

"Remembering the position of your moles. You have three small ones."

"Do you always remember everything?" Lizbeth asked softly.

Mimi's tail twitched. "Yes… and sometimes it's useful." She leaned closer, her voice dropping. "Like remembering where your feel tickles."

Lizbeth let out a soft laugh, feeling the tension ease slightly—but it didn't leave entirely. Mimi's gaze held hers, playful and serious at once, as if daring her to understand the balance between curiosity and danger.

That night, Mimi slept between them, but neither Lizbeth nor Shin managed to get a wink of sleep.

Lizbeth couldn't deny it, and neither could he.

It was clear who was really running the show that night—and it wasn't them.

***

Days later, Lizbeth found herself alone with Mimi again.

The meeting had not been planned, but at some point in the morning Shin had gone out to attend to some business and would return late, then buy some groceries and ice cream.

Lizbeth and Mimi went for a walk during the morning, but by the afternoon they were bored. The TV was boring. Sunlight streamed through the west window of the living room.

For a while, they just sat in silence. Lizbeth was flipping through a book on the couch, while Mimi was engaged in watching her with an intensity, her head slightly cocked to one side, as if trying to decipher a riddle. She wasn't interested in the movie on TV. Lizbeth had the book up, but slowly lowered it to meet those eyes that were watching her intently. For a few minutes the game continued with Lizbeth lowering and raising the book, only to find that Mimi was getting closer and closer as she raised the book.

You're a cat, aren't you? You are a cat disguised as a mimic, right? Lizbeth thought, sweating.

At the last set she found Mimi's face barely half a meter away from her.

Finally, Mimi broke the silence. "You always smell like Shin. And he smells like you." Lizbeth looked up from the book completely taken aback by the comment. What exactly did they smell like? Could it be a shampoo thing again?

"You think so?"

Mimi nodded. "Yes. You have its scent on your skin."

Lizbeth put the book aside and sat up calmly. What did Shin smell like? Tobacco? A cookie jar? It was true that those particles in his armor cleaned the sweat in an active state. Although, when he was relaxed, it was hard to tell what he smelled like. It was hard to say. Shin, on the other hand, always told her that he loved the way she smelled.

"Does it bother you that I smell like him?"

Mimi shook her head. "No. I like it. The smell of you both blend together very well."

There was a pause. Lizbeth watched her closely—with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper she wasn't sure she could identify yet.

"Wh-what do we smell like?" asked Lizbeth, curiously.

Mimi paused for a moment to think, then stretched her feet out on the couch and wiggled her toes as if searching for something. "You two smell like the sun."

Lizbeth was taken aback once again. Hadn't Shin told her that once? What exactly was smelling like the sun? "What do you mean?"

"Where I lived there was a smell at sunset on the beach. When the sun would start to go down and the rays would hit the... stems, is the word? of certain flowers. The sand also felt so good at that time. I liked that smell. It was a rich smell. It smelled almost the same as you two."

Lizbeth looked at her toes. Mimi kept wiggling them and then she understood the movement. It was as if at that moment she was imagining she was digging something. It was that feeling that anyone on a beach has ever had. Digging with her feet and wiggling her toes in the sand.

"It's a smell I like."

Mimi was a fascinating creature. Not just because of how exotic her existence as a mimic was, but because of the way she moved—the way her eyes looked at her, to Lizbeth it was as if she was discovering a new world for the first time in every gesture. Could it be the pheromones? Like what happened to him?

Lizbeth felt a spark ignite inside her. No. No, no, no, no. Remember what happened to that fool.

At that moment she couldn't take her eyes off Mimi. Mimi crawled between the cushions that separated her from Lizbeth, closing the distance between them.

"Do you want to know what I smell like?"

Lizbeth blinked, puzzled, but didn't flinch when Mimi leaned over and brushed her nose against hers. It looked like a playful gesture, but Mimi's face was flushed and rather serious with her lips loosely open.

The kiss came inevitably.

It was shy at first, a simple brush of lips, but when Lizbeth didn't pull away, Mimi took a little more initiative. Mimi smeared her fingers in her long blonde hair and pulled Lizbeth to herself, deepening the kiss slowly. To hell with the reading... and the movie.

This girl?! Lizbeth thought, as Mimi's tongue curled around hers.

She was losing control. She felt hot all over her body and that feeling was rising fast. They both looked at each other. Mimi's red eyes had taken on a slightly yellow glow. Lizbeth's eyes had taken on a violet hue. Both had slightly sharp teeth at that moment and looked at each other.

Lizbeth seemed surprised at first, but then reciprocated with unexpected sweetness, as if she were tasting something new and delicious. Her hands roamed Mimi's body with an awkwardness at first, exploring her.

Fuck it!

Mimi leaned in. Her breath was warm, sweet—like something that had ripened under the sun. Lizbeth didn't move, not out of fear, but because something in her chest fluttered in response. And for a heartbeat, neither of them breathed. The air between them felt heavy, slow, like the moment before a summer storm touches the skin.

Lizbeth's hand, resting on the cushion, curled slightly as Mimi's fingers hovered just above her knee—close, but not quite touching. It was such a small distance, and yet it felt like an entire coastline between them that was approaching too quickly. Her senses sharpened: the faint scent of salt still clinging to Mimi's hair, the way her red eyes reflected the warm sunset light like polished glass. And in that silence, something passed between them—curiosity tipping into hunger.

What began as simple curiosity quickly turned to desire.

"The sun can burn too." Mimi told her with bated breath as she looked up at her and took off her t-shirt.

Eh?! Is this really happening? From where you learned that line? Are you kidding me?

The kissing lasted a little longer and Lizbeth was also stripping off her clothes as they made their way up the stairs. Neither of them stopped. Not even when Lizbeth stubbed her little toe on the last step.

Lizbeth guided her to the bed, where the kisses became more intense and the caresses more daring.

The panties disappeared amid whispers and stifled breaths, exposing skin on skin. Mimi caressed and kissed every part of her body and Lizbeth reciprocated in kind. It felt too good. It had been a long time since Lizbeth had been with a woman, but it was definitely very different from her previous experiences. Mimi knew where to touch, kiss and caress her almost as if she had known her for a long time before. Lizbeth reciprocated those caresses, kisses and licks, feeling a taste she had never known before.

Neither of them knew how much time passed. It might have been half an hour or even longer, but they hadn't stopped. Gasping breaths filled the space when, suddenly, the door to the room opened.

"There! I brought the groceries, milk... and... some... ice cream."

Shin froze in the doorway.

For a second, he thought he had stepped into a dream. Or a memory someone else had left behind. Lizbeth and Mimi, limbs tangled, their bare skin glowing softly under the dim light of the room, their breathing still heavy.

A sock lay in the hallway. Another on the stairs. Of course. That explained the trail.

He blinked.

Lizbeth was the first to move. She turned her head toward him, her lips still swollen from kissing, and smiled like a cat who had just knocked over a glass.

"Are you just going to stand there," she asked, "or do we have to come get you?"

Mimi, still half-draped over her, turned her gaze to him. Her eyes glowed faintly, the same teasing gleam Lizbeth had. She mirrored the gesture, extending a hand toward him, fingers curling slowly in invitation.

Shin swallowed hard. His grip on the grocery bag tightened. A cold bottle of milk clinked against a pint of melting ice cream.

Ah...Right. He thought. I should have seen this coming.

He stepped inside and kicked the door closed behind him.

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