Chapter 1
His hand gently stroked the hair of his two lovers. Both looked adorable in their sleep. He sincerely hoped they rested as much as possible, wishing he could savor every minute with them. Because he was aware that things could get dicey soon. It had been a few weeks since they’d saved the world. They’d infiltrated a secret base where unscrupulous humans worked for bloodthirsty aliens and had uncovered a galactic plan to occupy Earth and ethnically cleanse mankind. They’d won and had managed to leak the secret plan to galactic authorities. The bad guy got what he deserved and was now chained up by his neck on some prison planet. But that was just the start of their problems. There were more bad guys out there, and they were coming to clean up their revenge. A secret society of alien bad guys who called themselves The Preservers. An ally called Admiral Ventar had warned them that they might be on their way. Jake and the girls would have to prepare. But in the meantime, why not make the most of their time together? He opened his eyes, enjoying the peaceful moment, until he noticed the girls were stirring awake. “Morning,” he murmured softly. “Mmm,” Tori responded, nuzzling closer to him. “Five more minutes.” "You’re not going back to sleep, and you know that,” Vixen mumbled into his arm, her fox ears flapping, though she made no move to let go. Jake smiled. He’d love to stay and cuddle and kiss a bit more, but his stomach had other ideas, rumbling loud enough to make Vixen giggle. “I think that's our cue,” he said, gently extracting himself from the tangle of limbs. “How about I make breakfast for you two?” "You don't have to,” Tori protested, rolling to the side, her white hair messy and her hands still holding onto his shirtless torso. “I want to,” Jake replied, already sitting on the edge of the bed. Vixen had moved with him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “I get to wake up with the two most amazing women in the galaxy. Gotta make them happy.” “Smooth talker,” Vixen said with a grin, finally releasing him. In the kitchen, Jake cracked the first egg against the rim of the metal bowl, letting the yolk slide out into the bowl. The skillet was already warming, a knob of butter hissing and melting across its surface. He whisked quickly, the eggs turning gold and frothy. Bacon popped in a second pan beside him, curling into crisp ribbons as the savory scent began to fill the cabin. Footsteps creaked on the stairs behind him. Tori entered, rubbing a hand through her tangled white hair, wearing a set of plaid pajamas that did little to conceal her perfect figure. A moment later, Vixen padded into the kitchen barefoot, wearing one of Jake’s old T-shirts and panties that matched her blue hair, her thick thighs on full display. Her tail flicked once behind her, and her eyes lit up when she caught the smell of bacon. “I’m making coffee,” Tori announced, making a beeline for the pot, preparing a mug for each. Jake prepared hotel-style scrambled eggs and served them with bacon, preparing toast, a jar of peanut butter, and one of jam. Minutes later, they were all seated around the table and dove in. “Mmm, I love bacon,” Vixen exclaimed, immediately covering her face. “Not as much as I,” Tori said fondly, skewering a half piece with her fork. “It was the first Earth food I had since I came here.” “The day that changed my life forever,” Jake replied, taking a sip of coffee. “And mine,” Tori said with a grin. Vixen basically crouched over the food and continued eating the bacon and eggs, devouring them like a locomotive. Then, she proceeded to add a big spoonful of jam and a tiny bit of peanut butter, made herself a sandwich, and stuffed it into her mouth. Once she was done, she crossed her legs over the table, bare feet on full display, pulled out her tablet, and began playing with it. “Vixen!” Tori scolded her, casting an angry glance. “Come on, Tori,” Vixen said. “Jake likes looking at my legs.” Jake sighed. “I do, but that doesn’t mean it’s not rude to do that. The view’s great, but when we have kids, I don’t want them to think it’s okay.” “You guys are so boring! And we don’t even have kids yet,” Vixen said, proceeding to ignore their concerns. “I’ll stop doing it when we have them. Meanwhile, hot stuff, you have to see this. Do you know about fast fashion? Take a look!” She held up the tablet, showing what appeared to be an online cart filled with dozens of items. “Seventeen different tops. All have 30% off!” "Vixen,” Jake said carefully, his eyes bulging as he saw the astronomical number in her shopping cart, “how much have you spent?” “It's fine! I used that 'credit card' thing you gave me for emergencies.” Jake cleared his throat. “Online shopping addiction is not an emergency.” “Says the man who's never experienced the joy of next-day delivery,” Vixen replied with a dismissive wave of her tail. “Besides, I need Earth clothes for my cover identity. It's basically work-related.” “Then, nope,” Jake said. “Don’t do it. Weren’t your people in the Council Army or whatever supposed to cover some of your expenses? That was a bust. Your galactic credits are worth nothing here.” “Copper is so rare in the universe!” Vixen said. “It just happens to be what pennies are made of.” “If you’d exchange it for intergalactic gold, perhaps,” Jake continued. “But for now, that money’s sadly worth nothing.” “Besides,” Tori said, looking at the tablet, “you’re trying to buy forty-seven items. That exceeds cover requirements by a lot.” Vixen shrugged. “I'm being thorough.” Then she let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I’ll just buy the essentials.” “I think it’s more important to follow the budget I gave you,” Jake said. “But there are so many things that make me look cute for you and Tori!” Then, she gasped, eyes still fixed on the tablet. “Check this out! I found the most amazing thing. Look at this.” She held up the tablet again, this time showing a pair of boots with extremely high heels. “Those look dangerous,” Tori said, taking a bite of bacon. “Exactly! I love them. Do you think they come in my size?” "Vixen, you can barely walk in regular heels,” Tori added. “That's why I need to practice. Earth fashion is so hot but impractical. On Korr, everything had to be functional. Here, you can wear things just because they look amazing.” “Vix, that’s too much. I’m glad you’re at least letting me review this before buying. We’re not broke, but if you buy forty-seven pieces at once, we might not be able to eat for a month.” Vixen crossed her arms. “Boring.” “This is excellent,” Tori said to Jake, changing the topic and gesturing to her breakfast with a wide grin. "Your cooking skills are top-notch.” “Thanks,” Jake said with a grin. “Anything for my girlfriends!” “While Tori just can’t get them right,” Vixen teased the other girl. “I think we should make her cook more often and document it.” “We are not documenting my failures,” Tori said firmly, looking at her food, though Jake caught her eye. They kept laughing, Vixen getting up to massage Jake’s shoulders and try to convince him to let her max his credit card. But that was not going to happen. She could buy a couple of pieces, the boots perhaps, but that was it. “We need to head to the gym,” Jake announced, setting down his mug. “I've got the senior aqua aerobics class this morning, and Mrs. Patterson will have my head if I'm late. Or shoot me and then put my head on display. They say she’s some top-notch hunter.” “We don’t want that, so I’ll put this in the dishwasher and get ready,” Tori said, mechanically piling up plates and cutlery and rushing toward the dishwasher, assembling the wares like it was her military duty. “Gladys is ready for more advanced movements. She’s moving so much better and pain-free!” Jake nodded his head. His alien girlfriends had somehow become the most popular fitness consultants in Pinedale. They had no official credentials, but they did know what they were talking about. They got their gym bags ready and were just getting ready to leave when Jake's phone buzzed with a text from Leena: Greetings, my favorite earthling and my fellow universe trotters. The readings are unusual today. Minor, but worth monitoring. Will check back later. “Everything okay?” Tori asked, noticing his frown. “Just Leena,” Jake replied, showing them the message. “She's picking up some kind of energy fluctuations.” “Probably nothing,” Vixen said, though her tail gave a subtle twitch that suggested she was more concerned than she was letting on. “Could be anything. Solar flares, atmospheric disturbances, someone's illegal ham radio setup.” “Leena's equipment is quite sensitive,” Tori said. “If she's noting anomalies, they're worth investigating.” Jake pocketed his phone, pushing down the small knot of worry in his stomach. They'd had a peaceful six weeks. Part of him had started to hope that maybe Admiral Ventar had been wrong, that the Preservers and their alien nukes would never show up. But deep down, he knew that kind of luck didn't last forever. “We'll check in with her later,” he said. “For now, let's just have a normal day. I mean, our kind of normal.” Jake pulled both women into a quick group hug. “And I wouldn't change it for anything,” Tori said with a grin. She was the first to plant a kiss on his lips. Vixen then jumped into his arms, almost making him stumble back, and peppered his face with kisses. *** The glass door to Pinedale Fitness creaked open, and Jake stepped inside. Tori and Vixen trailed behind, both in matching pink hoodies and gym bags slung over their shoulders. Marcy looked up from her perch at the front desk. “Morning, boss,” she said. “Morning, A-team, I see.” Tori gave her a polite nod. Vixen offered a wink and two finger guns. “Wouldn’t miss it,” Jake said, moving toward the staff area. Retirees warmed up on the treadmills while a pair of construction workers traded turns at the weight rack. Sheriff Walton was using the squat rack. Jake gave him a polite nod that the man returned. Two academy recruits ran drills in the corner. A few college kids, home for the summer, clustered near the free weights. Cory, the local CrossFit champion, launched into a set of pull-ups with wild kipping swings, flailing on the bar like a fish fighting a hook. Near the back wall, a small group of women had set up tripods and were filming themselves doing hip thrusts. Jake kept his eyes straight ahead and made a point of not reacting. Then, he glanced around, checking that everything was in place: floor clean, lights on, no leaking vents. Through the windowpane, he ensured the pool was clean and that everybody had their swimwear on. Tori walked ahead toward the squat racks while Vixen veered toward the studio, stretching as she moved. Jake paused by the front desk again and tapped the clipboard Marcy kept for notes. “Any new sign-ups?” Marcy nodded. “Four more this morning. Two of them asked if the ‘tall lady with the silver braid’ would be teaching again.” Jake smirked. “They’re hooked.” “Told you,” Marcy said. “We could sell Tori-branded resistance bands and make a fortune.” From across the room, Mrs. Patterson waved them over. “Tori, my knees did that popping thing again during bridge. Can you watch?” Tori pulled her sleeves up as she joined the small cluster around the weight area. The older woman was lifting a good amount—considerable weight even for a young lifter. She was a strong one, a farmer and all. “This kind of popping is usually not a problem,” Tori exclaimed. “As long as it doesn’t come with pain. It’s most likely just air bubbles around your cartilage. But feel free to stop or lower the weight if you feel uncomfortable.” Jake looked away. Those two were face to face. Vixen, from the studio doorway, gave a cheerful shout. “Stretch group starts in ten! Bring water and good vibes!” The gym was doing even better than before. The town had changed. But seeing people show up, improve, and laugh made all the chaos feel worth it. He slipped inside, grabbed the roster sheet, and started making notes. Another full class. Another day preparing Pinedale for whatever came next. And it looked like they’d be ready. Across the gym floor, Tori was correcting Mrs. Patterson’s squat form near the squat rack. She wasn’t even trying to sell it anymore—just a simple demonstration, spine aligned, knees tracked perfectly, arms forward for balance. “Oh my,” she said, chuckling breathlessly. “I feel like an athlete! My grandson says I’ve been walking straighter since we started this... and I’ve felt no more pain while working at the farm.” “That’s what it's all about! I love to hear that your movements are optimized!” Tori replied evenly, adjusting a resistance band around the woman’s knees. “You’re doing well. Just keep the heels grounded.” Jake gave them a nod as he passed and unlocked the office near the back, the metal handle still stubborn from the last cold snap. From the corner of his eye, he caught Gladys Wilson—seventy-three, cane retired—deadlifting what looked like a twenty-pound barbell. He was half inside the office when the thump-thump-thump of bass-heavy music rolled through the walls. He froze, smiling faintly. That could only mean one thing. Vixen was in full swing. From the group studio, her voice carried like a storm. “Feel the energy through your limbs! Let it ripple! Let it bounce! Mrs. Carmichael, you’re bending reality right now; don’t stop!” Jake peeked through the observation window. Inside, a dozen women—and one confused-looking guy in cargo shorts—moved through a Zumba-yoga hybrid. Vixen, barefoot and radiant in bright pink leggings, flowed from a deep stretch into a dance move stolen from a sci-fi musical. “You’re all beautiful! Flexible! Glorious!” she declared, twirling on one foot. “Zentaurian scouts would kill for your shoulder mobility, I swear!” “What's a Zentaurian?” came Ethel Miller's voice. “It's... a type of advanced yoga practitioner,” Vixen replied smoothly. "Very bendy people. From... Norway. The bendy part of Norway.” Jake shook his head and sighed. Vixen slipped too often, but somehow no one questioned her. People just went along with whatever she said. “Mr. Miller?” A tentative voice made him turn. Sandra Peters stood in his office doorway, looking nervous. “Could I speak with you for a moment?” “Of course. What's on your mind?” Sandra glanced around, then stepped inside and closed the door. “It's about your... consultants. Tori and Vixen.” Jake felt his stomach tighten. “Is there a problem?” “No! No, that's just it. They're incredible. I've been coming here for two years, and I've never seen results like this. Everyone's talking about it. Maria lost fifteen pounds in three weeks, Bob's back pain disappeared completely, and my own flexibility has improved so much my doctor asked what I was doing differently.” “That's... great,” Jake said cautiously, wondering where this was going. “The thing is,” Sandra said, leaning in a little, “there’s something off about them. Not bad, just... weird. That blonde one? Tori? I saw her lift like four hundred pounds the other day like she was moving groceries. And the blue-haired girl—she bent her leg in a way that made my knee hurt just watching it. Plus, they talk about muscles and joints like they went to med school or something.” Jake's mouth went dry, but he shrugged nonchalantly. “Four hundred is... doable for an experienced lifter... I mean... they... read the manuals. What are you actually trying to say?” “I'm saying I don't care if they're from Mars,” Sandra said firmly. That made Jake’s skin go pale. He tried to mask it with a smile. Sandra sighed. “Whatever they are, wherever they learned what they know, they're helping people. My husband hasn't been able to touch his toes in twenty years, and yesterday he was doing something Vixen called a 'Vulpine spiral stretch.' I don't know what that means, but it worked.”
