Jessica strode down the terminal. Her heels were loudly clacking on the tile. She knew she looked good, and wanted people to look. She knew the noise her heels made attracted attention. Hopefully, the right kind of attention. An ordinary woman might have called these shoes her 'fuck-me heels'. Jessica though, called them her 'do-not-fuck-with-me heels'. Ever since the accident that gave them all their abilities, Jessica's attitude, at least internally, had changed. Her lover could make just about anything, and was probably the smartest person on the planet now. He was smart enough to realize that they needed to keep these abilities secret. If anyone ever discovered them, well, their lives would probably change drastically for the worse. She did not want that. She liked her life very much now.
She slowed her gait, and darted her eyes about, looking for anyone who might be a suitable "volunteer". She looked down at her toes, and smiled just a little bit at the rhinestones on her each of her big toe's nails. On her right nail, she had no doubt her friends were riding comfortably. Matt really did know how such things worked. He accounted for the gravity shift. On the left though, she had made sure that the safeties on the device had been disengaged. She still can't believe that Matt had bought the idea that she would need the other crystal, because having only one decoration would look unfashionable. Besides once he made the one, copying it was easy thanks to the duplicator device.
She made her way to the member's club for her airline, and stepped inside. She was momentarily sad about the carpet silencing her steps. She positioned herself at the bar, crossed her legs, so that the left one could be easily swung, and signaled the bartender.
Swinging her foot, to and fro, she could only wonder if anyone in the crystal had survived her walk. She hoped so, but if they didn't, that was fine too. She only briefly wondered if anything still showed on the sole. They were usually cleaned off pretty well by 'volunteers', and generally just walking around was enough to scratch off any remaining stains.
Her french tipped toes, were exceptionally shiny. She probably really should have kept the last crew. They had done such a phenomenal job. But she had set a standard, and she stuck to it. All her girlfriends had commented on how nice they looked, and begged to know where she had gotten them done. She played coy, and said she wanted to keep it a secret (which was true), and that if she told them the truth, she would have to kill them. (Which she realized, was also true.) Having a few jealous girlfriends was something she could handle. Besides, she preferred to have them done by those who didn't really want to. It made it all that much more delicious to watch. She didn't think any of her girlfriends would really want the job, and she wouldn't feel as good watching them, knowing what she's have to do to them later. No, her current choice of using "volunteers" was better. As Gene said, 'if it ain't broke, don't fit it.'
Nearly 20 minutes had gone by, and she was barely half finished her drink, when the fist man approached her. Standard opening line, which she deflected with practice. She almost frowned, when he politely left, and returned to his own seat. He didn't even take a surreptitious glance up her leg. Some days, it barely paid to get out of bed. She quietly finished her drink. She idly thought if she'd get anyone under her toes before getting on the plane. It would at least serve as a distraction, while she toyed with someone.
The time was getting closer to board, and she was a little surprised. No one else approached her. Not one indecent line whispered in her ear. Not one un-gallant suggestion. Maybe she was throwing off too dangerous a vibe? Maybe her 'do-not-fuck-with-me' thoughts were too strong? Or maybe she was just too jaded? She left the club, and boarded the plane. First class was the best way to travel.
She again thought about the tiny occupants in her crystal. They had first class accommodations as well. She'd seen the inside before she shrunk it down. It was nice. Six personal compartments for sleeping (or any other 'private activity'). A common area with appliances, running water, & fully functional facilities. Even electricity with a TV, and Blue ray player and a collection of movies. The only thing it was missing was Wi-Fi, and a way to communicate with the outside world. For some reason, radio signals just didn't interact with anything inside when shrunk.
Matt had designed it to pick up and store kinetic energy as she walked and store it for later use. Solar too. He said the sky was raining soup when it came to energy. All the world needed was the right kind of bucket to catch it in. Which he incorporated into the design. She slowly flexed her right foot, up and down, knowing the hyper-gyros kept everything perfectly level inside. She didn't understand it. She only knew it worked, and he had built it for her.
Then when they cloned the first one, she learned how to turn everything on, and off, in case of an emergency. He called it the USD. The Ultimate Smuggling Device. Simple name, but to her it was that much more. She generally kept them both small all the time. Luckily her powers were persistent. Anything she shrank, stayed shrunk, until she enlarged it again. She would never have to worry about anyone telling about what happened in the other crystal. She placed her feet side by side. The two crystal were barely 1/8" across and 1/8" thick. But to the tiny inhabitants, they were the size of small office buildings, just under 50 feet high. The crystals now a bare 2" apart from one another, but thanks to her miniaturization powers, it would seem a lot farther to those inside.
She knew Matt had also designed the crystals to conceal the outside from those inside. He suspected people might have psychological issues, if they could see the real world from inside them. But he also set it up that no one from outside could see in them. Not that it would be easy to do so, but he figured why take a chance. No one outside could see in, and no one inside, could see out. A great traveling device. Or a prison. Or torture chamber. She wondered what the inside looked like by now. She should probably dump it out, and shrink anything left inside down to a microscopic size.
Her patience was to be rewarded with an obnoxious drunk. But it wasn't she he was harassing, but instead the stewardess. She knew she would have to time this one just right. She would want the stewardess to see something that shouldn't have happened, and would come investigate. The only question in her mind, was how small to make him. She idly thought about something big enough to be spotted, but prudence suggested something smaller. Something small enough that the woman wouldn't even noticed that she had done the deed. After the repeated innuendo, and ass slapping, she thought the lady deserved the pleasure of feeling the little puke die under her foot, it was more likely she'd just spot him, pick him up, and scream. No, a mere 1/8" or 1/16" would do as it always had. And if the stewardess missed, well, Jessica could always take matters into her owns hands. Or feet.
Her luck did pay out, as the lout went to the bathroom. She got him just as he was coming out. He turned to shut the lavatory door, and locked eyes with her. That was it. She'd seen the stewardess was in the tiny alcove on the right side of the plane, so had a direct line of sight to the lavatory door. From her point of view he disappeared from view without even a flash of light. So, she naturally came to investigate the seemingly odd incident. Jessica, with years of practice, knew exactly where to look, and got her moment of glee as the stewardess's peep-toed flat, with her chipped pink polished toes, slammed right down on the miniaturized man.
The woman didn't even know it. Or feel it. Which is exactly how it was supposed to go. Jessica closed her eyes, savoring the moment in her mind on mental review. She hoped the tiny jerk realized who had stepped on him, just before dying under the giant shoe. The stewardess looked around, and not seeing her harasser, she shook her head slightly, raised her hands to lips, fingertips tapping the lower lip nervously. Jessica could see the confusion on her face almost as if it was written there for everyone to see. She watched as her face registered what her mind began to rationalize. She made it up. She saw something that hadn't really happened. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Pivoting around on the very foot which has smashed her bully, she returned to the other side of the plane. Jessica sighed with contentment. At least this trip wasn't totally devoid of fun.