lizzylooming

Niamh stands on the patio nodding her head to the music. She doesn't know this song - she's hardly known any of the songs they've played tonight - but it's kind of catchy. That might just be the booze talking, though. She looks down at her tragically empty cup. Leah has been gone for a long time, and she's starting to get worried. She stands on tip-toe, trying to see over the crowd, but sees mostly the backs of heads. She looks around to make sure no one is watching before digging around in her many pockets for her remote, a small oval shell of hard plastic. Niamh finds it and feels for the raised "plus" symbol. No one is looking to the back of the patio anyways. Most are crammed inside jumping around in rhythmic tandem, shaking the foundations of the building. There's no way anyone will notice.

With two quick clicks and a familiar feeling of vertigo amplified by the pair of vodka redbulls sitting in her stomach she can just barely see over the group crowding the back door of the night club. Right away she sees Leah's bleached-blonde hair shoving her way through the mass of bodies on the dance floor, all of whom are too mesmerized to notice the person at the back who just spontaneously gained a few inches of height. Niamh nervously checks the battery of her size modulator on the small analog display of the remote: 78%. Significantly more than she expects to use on a normal night lounging at home or eating out, but not enough that she's worried about running out before she gets home.

Leah finally bursts through the wall of bouncing shoulders and stumbles toward her, two vodka redbulls in hand.

"Finally! Christ alive! Everyone and their mom is here tonight!" Leah hands her a drink which she eagerly gulps down. She was beginning to feel entirely too sober to tolerate this place. Leah drinks hers and falls into Niamh's chest, who can feel the beginnings of exhaustion in her. She pulls back abruptly, looks at Niamh's blue button-up shirt, her chin, then her eyes.

"Taller?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I was..." she stutters, fishing around for her remote. Leah stops her hand with a touch.

"No, it's fine. I like it." Leah smiles and leans in to kiss her, just a bit further up than she's used to. Niamh has found through trial and error that just a few inches taller than her, just enough that Leah has to stand on her toes (when she's not wearing heels) is the sweet spot. She kisses back, drunk on affection and sweet liquor. For a moment the music doesn't sound like an intrusion on her senses but a movie soundtrack. She feels their syncopated heartbeats align for a moment, interrupted by unfamiliar voices.

"OH my god you two are SO cute," a woman shouts over the speakers, slurring her words and spilling her drink a bit. She's wearing a tank top and short black skirt, her long pale acrylics wrapped around a colorful cocktail. Niamh and Leah share a series of meaningful glances.

Straight girl tourist.

Stop, you don't know that!

Taylor Swift polaroid in her phone case.

That doesn't mean anything! Tons of lesbians love Taylor Swift.

Okay, have you seen them here before?

Niamh reluctantly admits defeat in their silent argument and addresses their new drunk acquaintances.

"Thanks! I'm Niamh, this is my partner Leah." Leah smiles and raises her drink.

"Did you say 'need'?" The friend asks. She's a bit shorter, straight black hair down to her back. Judging from her jorts and T-shirt with the sleeves sloppily cut off, Niamh figure she is the one who brought her friend here, though she wonders whose idea it was.

"Nee-ev," she enunciates, "Like, with a 'v" sound." She's well-practiced at this explanation. It would've made grade school hell if her condition hadn't already done that for her.

"That's so cute!"

"How is it spelled?" The dark-haired girl asks.

"You don't wanna know," Niamh deadpans. Leah sees the twitch in her eyebrow and jumps to the rescue.

"Sooo where are y'all from?"

She lets Leah handle the small talk, something she's infinitely better at than Niamh. Growing up a Mini heavily impacted her social skills. Not just that, but she enjoys watching Leah network and charm strangers. It comes to her as naturally as breathing, even after this woman just rudely interrupted their private moment.

Leah places a comforting arm around her. A silent squeeze indicates that she was just addressed.

"Yeah! What? Sorry, I was..." She winces, avoiding Leah's annoyed glare.

"I said you're so tall!"

Her mouth goes dry. Not for a reason, really. These two strangers have no reason to know. Or did they see her earlier? And what kind of compliment is that anyways? Her hand instinctively finds the remote in her pocket to make sure it's still there.

"Oh. Yeah, uhm, thanks?"

"I just think height difference in relationships are so hot. But I feel like it's easier to find taller men than women."

"Guess I got lucky, huh?" Leah shouts, a little louder than necessary. It's hard for Niamh to tell if she's mocking them or teasing her. She feels Leah's hand move from her hip to her side to her pocket.

"What are you doing?" she hisses. Leah answers with a devious closed-mouth smile, glancing at the two other women who are engrossed in a debate about whether to shove their way to the bar for another round.

"They're not looking," she says in a low voice. A click sounds from inside Niamh's pocket, followed by nausea as she gains another inch.

"Jesus, Leah, we're in public!"

"So?"

"So, not everyone is cool about this! There are some real fuckin' weirdos out there!"

"And I wouldn't let any of them touch you."

Leah is small and sweet, but Niamh believes her. Their friends often compare her to a Pomeranian: she's fluffy, but she'll claw out your eyes at the drop of a hat.

"Still, Leah, it would be weird."

"Okay," Leah says, breaking into a full evil grin. "So tell me to stop."

Click. Niamh can now see over most of the heads in the crowd. She opens her mouth to object, but the glint in Leah's eyes is more intoxicating than any liquor she could order at the bar.

"Well?" she goads.

"Are you guys okay?"

They both jump as if caught in the act. Leah yanks her hand from Niamh's pocket, which is now almost at her elbow height.

"Totally cool!" She says, in the least convincing lie Niamh has ever heard. The strangers glance between them, but the blonde girl (she should really have been listening when they told Leah their names) squeals as the opening notes of You Belong With Me play from inside. Under normal circumstances she'd find the DJ and give them a long disapproving look, but in this moment she can't thank them enough. To her shock and confusion, though, the nausea returns as she rockets up another few inches, making her easily one of the tallest people at the club. She grasps for the remote, but finds her pocket empty. She looks frantically around her feet, but Leah catches her eye. She nods backwards and Niamh sees a small oval of white plastic peeking out of her fist behind her back.

"You're fucking crazy," Niamh says.

"Hmm, hearing you talk like that, I think you're getting a little big for your britches."

"We're gonna go to the bar," one of the others say. "It was really nice meeting you guys!"

"Was nice meeting y'all too, uh-"

"Whitney, Rosa!" Leah supplies, saving Niamh's ass once again. They smile and start to take off, but Rosa hangs behind.

"Hey, uhh, sorry about her. She really wanted to come and I thought she'd be normal but, uh -"

"No stress," Niamh says. "She's welcome here. Y'all have fun on your trip!"

"Thanks. You guys are cool. You look at each other like you have a little secret."

"Sooo little." Leah teases. She's unphased by the sharp elbow to the side Niamh gives her. Rosa smirks.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it."

Leah smiles and waves, and at the same time four quick clicks send Niamh back to just above her typical height. The feeling of shrinking down is different than growing; she'd compare it to the pressure you feel before your ears pop on an airplane. When she goes all the way down all at once it gives her a migraine, but Leah is always there with a tiny cup of water and very crushed up Aspirin.

"You're absolutely fucking bonkers." Niamh says out of the side of her mouth. She fails to suppress her smile.

"Sorry. I should've asked first." Leah says, holding out the clicker. Niamh considers the remote in her hand. She looks around the courtyard - it's mostly wallflowers staring hopefully at the dancefloor, people too drunk to stand up straight, and a few people in line for the port-a-potties. She closes Leah's fingers over it.

"Yeah, probably, but whatever. It's kinda fun. It feels like someone should be noticing, but no one is."

Leah eyes her uncertainly. "Are you sure?"

She nods, and all concern on Leah's face is instantly replaced with mischief. Niamh's ears pop and she loses another couple inches, the two of them now almost at eye level.

"I like tall Nevhie, but I also like seeing you like this."

"What, short and Leah sized?"

Her jaw drops. "You have some fucking nerve calling me short, pea-brain."

"Wowww we're stooping to petty insults now. I didn't ask to date Ginormica, okay?"

"You literally did and - Jesus fucking Christ is that a Monsters vs Aliens reference? How fucking old are you?"

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" Niamh isn't sure if it's the shifting, the alcohol, or the energy radiating from Leah right now, but whatever it is it's making her dizzy.

"Hmm, I think someone just needs to knock you down a few pegs." Click click. Suddenly, Leah's eyes are just above hers.

"God, you're so hot like this."

"What, taller?" Click.

"No - Jesus, slow down. No, like. Evil."

"Hm." She breaks character and repeats sincerely, "By the way, I'll stop whenever you want. Are you okay?"

"I'm great. Could use another drink."

She takes Niamh by the hand and guides them through the crowd. The bar line is starting to become more reasonable as most people hit critical drunk mass. The bartenders know their typical orders: Niamh a vodka Redbull, Leah a tequila soda. Niamh's fourth round fully launches her into drunk territory. Being buddy-buddy with bartenders can be dangerous as their pours start to get more and more generous. The rancid concoction in her hand would better be described as a vodka on the rocks with Redbull spilled in on accident. The music, which she's pretty sure is still absolutely not her usual vibe, starts to sound hypnotic. Without thinking, and to Leah's surprise, Niamh drags her to the dance floor and they meld into the crowd. She downs the rest of her drink and pulls Leah close. She looks so different at Niamh's current height than from what she usually sets it to. The shape of her nose seems sharper, her cheekbones higher. Leah takes Niamh's hands and moves them from her hips to her shoulders, swapping with her.

"Staring, weirdo." Leah shouts.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Leah hands Niamh her drink and fumbles with her purse. Niamh feels a jolt as the remote come out again and Leah tilts her head in a silent question. Or maybe a challenge?

"God, right here?"

"No one's looking. I don't think anyone is even, like, sapient."

"Vocab word. Nerd."

Leahs' eyes narrow and she vindictively clicks the remote four times in quick succession. If Niamh was going up, she'd be worried about losing her liquor, but going down is strangely grounding. Her eyes are almost level with Leah's mouth, which is deeply unfair. She leans up to bite Leah's lip, fully intending to do something stupid, but two drunk dancers stumble into them. Leah stays upright, but Niamh is knocked flat on her ass, not used to her new center of mass.

"Fucking watch it!" Leah says, entirely ready to scrap, but the clubbers have already moved on.

"Babe it's fine," Niamh says. "Outside again?"

...

Leah checks her all over for bumps and bruises. Niamh bats her away, insisting she's fine, but Leah continues to mumble empty homocidal threats against the two strangers, who have both almost certainly forgotten the encounter by now.

"It's just so fucked up people just not being considerate of their surroundings. Like, they're drunk, I get it, but they didn't even check on you after wiping you out. This is supposed to be an inclusive space, I -"

Niamh puts a hand over hers. "I'm fine, Leah, really. And I don't wanna ruin the vibe but, uhm, can you check the battery on my modulator? I don't usually shift this much at once in public. Or while this drunk."

"Oh! Shit! I didn't even think about that!" She pulls out the remote and looks at the tiny analog display. "Fifty-three. What does that mean?"

She feels her heartbeat thump into her neck. Fifty three is fine, really - easily a day and change under normal circumstances. But losing twenty-five percent in the course of a few hours is far from normal. A charge normally lasts her three days if she isn't extremely active, two if she's busy or not sleeping enough. Once, she ran a marathon in July and almost used a whole charge in one day. She's never done anything like that since.

"Niamh?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. That would probably last me the rest of the night, but I've used almost half of it since this morning."

"Shit! Oh my god. Should we go?"

"I... Well, if you want-"

"Niamh." Leah grabs her shoulders and looks her in the eye in the way that means don't bullshit me right now.

"I... Yeah, I think I'd feel safer if-"

"We're gone. I'll go close our tabs. Do you have your card?"

Niamh pulls it out of her wallet and hands it over. "Thanks, Lee."

Leah kisses her cheek and darts through the crowd. Once she's on a mission, there's not a drunk dancer in the world that could topple her. She finds an uneven wooden stool and takes a seat, finding that her feet dangle now where before they nearly reached the ground. Leah returns in record time, just a little sweaty. She looks down and smiles, noticing the same thing.

"God, you're so cute. Ready?"

Niamh looks around. It's almost one in the morning, and the remaining clubbers who haven't tapped out have rallied on the dance floor. The courtyard is completely empty.

"Y'know, we can call a cab. Wait on them in here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Still have the remote?"

She crosses her arms and a hint of the devious glare Niamh is trying to get out of her peeks through.

"Yeah. Why? Back to nine for now?"

She's referring to five-foot-nine, the slightly-taller-than-her height they've settled on as the norm. Niamh thinks the remote technically goes up to six and a half feet, maybe more, but the taller she gets the quicker it burns through charge. They've never tried anything above six-three, and then only at home on "special occasions."

"Well, if you want. But I was thinking..."

"Ohhh," Leah says mockingly. She leans in, making Leah nervous all over again. "You were enjoying it huh?"

"I mean, I thought I made that pretty clear-"

"Mm. I mostly remember you being kind of a brat about it."

"Sorry, I'll get into character." Niamh pouts her lip out cartoonishly. "Pleaaase Leah don't shrink me, I'm just a normal girl like you!"

"God you're insufferable." Click click click. Seated, her height doesn't change that much, but her feet dangle high above the ground like she's a kid in a high-chair. Leah puts an arm on the wall behind her, cornering her. She leans down, kissing Niamh deep and slow, and sneaking in another click while she has Niamh distracted. When she pulls Niamh off the chair by her hips, the top of her head barely reaches Leah's collarbone. She tips Niamh's chin up with a finger so that she's looking up for a change.

"Ladies, closing up."

Leah doesn't seem to hear the security guard. She's entirely focused on Niamh, who pulls her hand down and waves at the employee.

"Got it, we were just about to take off."

The security guard blinks. "Uhm, also kids aren't allowed in here. This is a bar."

"Wow," Niamh says.

"Fucking rude," Leah echoes. The guard raises her hands to apologize but Leah yanks Niamh out the gate and into the waiting car.

...

The entire ride is spent convincing a very drunk Leah to keep her hands to herself for the sake of the driver, to whom Niamh gives a sincere apology and makes a note to herself to send a good tip for picking up two very drunk women at almost 2:00 in the morning. They stumble into their apartment building, opting for the creaky elevator. Four flights of stairs at over a foot beneath what Niamh is used to and four or five drinks deep sounds like a bad combination. Niamh check the clicker again and watches the number go from forty-six to forty-five. She might have to sleep on the charger tonight, but Leah seems determined to get her down to that size anyways. In the elevator, she rests her elbows on Niamh's head.

"Got a comfy noggin," she slurs.

"We really need to get you water."

She's quiet for a moment. The elevator is, as usual, taking its sweet time.

"I'm so angry at those people who knocked you over."

"Leah, I promise it's okay-"

"No, Niamh, it's not. It's fucked up that even though we've been integrating with - with people like you for over a decade-"

"Lee, we've been dating for four years. You can say Mini."

"- that people just don't fucking pay attention to their surroundings! I mean, what if that place had a small section? Or what if your battery was running low? Or just, even if you weren't... if you weren't Mini, just someone with a mobility aid or someone who, like, can't see all that well - and it's dark as fuck in there, we need to talk to McKayla about that -"

"Lee, I'm fine, I promise."

A crackly bell sound dings from the elevator's prehistoric speaker and the doors creak open. It has missed their floor by about an inch, creating a noticeable tripping hazard. This place should be condemned.

"I just don't know what I would do if something happened to you because I was fucking around."

"Lee..."

A man clears his throat and the two of them remember where they are.

"So sorry," Niamh says, gathering Leah in her arms to the best of her ability and sidling past the man towards their apartment.

"Hey, you're in 511 right?" the man asks.

"Yeah, why?"

"I thought you were... Like..." He puts his hand a good foot and a half above Niamh's head.

"Don't know what you're talking about. Have a good night!" The elevator doors sliding shut cuts their conversation off just as Leah mutters "asshole."

...

Leah slumps over the kitchen counter, but Niamh shoves a glass of water in her hand and props her up.

"Uh-uh, nope, drink up first. Not doing Hangover Sunday again. Those movies are terrible."

"I'm sleepyyy," she complains, but allows Niamh to guide the glass to her mouth. "And those movies are good, you're just a hater." She takes a few more sloppy sips and examines the rim of the glass.

"Was I wearing lipstick?"

"Yeah, but you left half of it on my face."

Leah looks at Niamh with sudden recognition and grins ear-to-ear.

"Oh yeahhh. That's okay. It looks prettier on you," she coos, wiping a pale orange smudge from Niamh's cheek. She makes Leah finish the whole glass and then a second before letting her stand up.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Leah says in a voice dripping with soft intimacy.

"Bee, you dated me for almost two years before the operation. You did your fair share. You don't have to thank me."

"I still mean it. I'd still say it even if you hadn't."

Niamh deposits her on the couch and slides in next to her. "I know."

Leah pulls the remote from her purse and examines it. The battery seems to have mostly stabilized now that she's resting and drinking water.

"It's fucked up that you have to use this stupid remote. The new ones have internal control systems and at-size charging. Someone could just, like, take this."

"Yeah. The new ones are, like, twenty-thousand dollars though-"

"Which is bullshit! I mean, what the fuck do we pay taxes for if not to help people-"

"Lee, it's two AM. I don't want a note from our upstairs neighbor again."

Leah sighs and strokes Niamh's hair. "Sorry. It's still bullshit. Do you need to charge tonight?"

Niamh nods her head, trying to keep her heavy eyes from closing. Shifting size in her sleep can have disastrous consequences. Waking up in a labyrinth her own sweaty clothes with her giant girlfriend none the wiser is a nightmare she never wants to re-live.

"What if..." She trails off, looking out the window to avoid eye contact.

"What if?"

"Uhm, what if you just sleep on the bed with me tonight? Charge tomorrow?"

Niamh shifts uncomfortably. They've interacted at her normal size before, but always with great care, Leah handling her like a fragile baby bird, a precious glass sculpture. Perhaps a little more care than is warranted. They haven't tried sleeping together at her base size since she had the surgery. But she feels Leah's hand stroking her hair and the gentle care she takes even at Niamh's more manageable size, and knows that there's no one else in the world she'd trust more with her safety.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," she says into the silence.

"No it's... yeah. That would be nice."

"Really?"

Niamh turns her head and looks at Leah's smudged makeup, her tired eyes watching.

"Really."

Leah hums, satisfied, but pushes Niamh off of her. "Okay, but we're taking our makeup off this time. I don't want to be breaking out for the next two days."

Not in the tax bracket to afford a hers-and-hers bathroom they wash up in the same sink bowl. When Niamh reaches for the medicine cabinet, Leah reveals she still has the remote and clicks it a few times more. The handle flies out of reach. Leah opens the medicine cabinet and holds Niamh's facewash above her head. She could easily stand up straighter or jump for it, but she's tired, and besides, that would be giving her what she wants.

"You are such a bitch," Niamh laughs, half-heartedly reaching up. "You are really building up some karma for later. Don't trust any brownies I make. They'll be full of cayenne."

"That sounds delicious, actually."

"Like a lot of cayenne. Or maybe jalapeño."

Leah sticks her tongue out and relents. They finish up and get changed. She unbuttons Niamh's shirt, which at this point hangs loosely over her shoulders, while Niamh reaches up to unclasp Leah's bra. Leah pulls a baggy t-shirt on and opens the sock drawer where Niamh's stores her Mini clothes. She picks a pair of green pajamas Leah's mom hand-sewed which fits neatly in the palm of her hand. They so rarely interact at her true size these days except for nights she has to charge, and it's strange to see her holding them, looking at Niamh expectantly. She swallows nervously.

"What's wrong?" Leah asks softly.

"Nothing - ah, I just. You still make me nervous sometimes."

Her arms drop and she looks hurt. "Have I ever given you reason to think I'd do anything to hurt you? Even on accident?"

"No! No, I didn't mean... I meant, like, sometimes I look at you and I think, holy shit, how did I land this? How did I land this especially when I was still, like, five inches tall?"

She blushes and tugs at her shirt. "Even with puffy red post-makeup face and moth-chewed NASA T-shirt?"

"Babe, this is literally you in peak form. I would stand on the corner with a shitty cardboard sign proclaiming you the second coming, and this is the picture of you I would use," Niamh says, holding her fingers up to frame her like a camera lens.

"You are such a fucking cornball." Leah pushes her, which has more impact than Niamh expects, but her smile says she knows Niamh means it.

"And for the record," Leah says secretively, draping her arms over Niamh's shoulders, "you at your real size is you in peak form."

Her heart swells and she barely notices the pressure from a few more quick clicks, putting her just above Leah's waist. Niamh's jaw drops.

"You sly dog. What is this energy? You have literally never been hotter than this."

Leah pushes her back onto the bed with one hand, though it must take barely any force. Niamh is just tall enough to fall onto the mattress, and as soon as she does she feels pressure in her ears and suddenly Leah is looming above her on her hands and knees easily four times her size. Her messy hair falls around Niamh in thin strands like a bed veil. She takes both of Niamh's arms and clasps them in one hand, pinning them above her head, before kissing her up and down until her giggles turn into heavy breathing, breathing into moans. With a few more clicks, one hand covers her torso and Leah moves her with the ease of a stuffed animal to the head of their bed, splaying her against a pillow. She takes the clicker and turns it over to allow Niamh access to the pinhole that powers off her size modulator. Pressing it, she feels the rest of the pressure in her ears normalize as she quickly shrinks down to her original size, half the length of Leah's hand. The pillow she lays on becomes a landscape of yellow floral cloth. Leah's hand dwarfs her as it curls around her, fingers resting loosely over her chest like inner-tubes. She brings Niamh to her face, lying horizontally on her own pillow. Leah's hot breath, mint-scented from mouthwash, flows over her through parted lips. Her eyes, thick with sleep, drink Niamh in in her entirety. Niamh looks up at all Leah's larger-than-life features in high-definition, feeling as giddy and nervous as when they first met.

"I can't believe," Leah starts, planting a gigantic torso-encompassing kiss on Niamh, "that you'd ever think I love you less like this." She brings her other giant hand up to cup Niamh gently on the fabric of the pillow and closes her eyes.

"I didn't," Niamh replies. They'll worry about her charge in the morning. For now and forever, Niamh as her true self is enough.

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author's notes

thank you for reading! i was really nervous to post this but im glad i did. some things i didnt address bc i thought theyd chunk up the flow or be boring:

Niamh is a Mini, someone who is born and lives at a much smaller size than you or me. (another species? or just a condition? not sure didnt think abt it lol) She's had a surgical operation done to implant a device in her spine that allows her to modulate her size to normal human height for a limited amount of time. When the charge is out, she has to lay on like a coaster-size wireless charger to charge the modulator. Newer models last longer, can charge without shrinking down, and have internal control systems, but her older, cheaper system is just a remote.