Reroll

After my rest, I concentrate to gather power, feed my dog from my cloak, check a few things on my phone… oh, and Betty wakes up.

“Remind me to do that again sometime…” she says as she gets up, still a little wobbly, “You were RELENTLESS, and oh wow your tongue got deep. What got into you?”

I consider a moment, and decide to be honest; she is a friend, and it likely impacts her too, “Ed's seed still in your row. My body seems crazy addicted to the stuff.”

“Oh, that,”  Betty giggles, “Yeah, it's fun.  So it works secondhand too, huh?”

“Yeah,” I admit, “Once I had a taste I couldn't stop until I was sure I had it all.”

“These bodies are just built for carnal pleasure…” Betty seems wistful, “I am SO glad you fixed the baby thing.  Having cream stuffed in my bakery is wonderful, but I'm not ready to be a mother in so many ways: Mentally, emotionally, financially….”

As she trails off, a wistful look in her eyes while she rubs her lower abdomen, I pipe up, “Speaking of finances, I'm done restoring the coins, watches, dishes, and such. The dishes and silverware we should probably deal with online, but my phone says there's a coin shop and antique store right next to each other nearby.”

Betty stops rubbing her womb, acting kind of like she'd been caught at something naughty, and answers, “and with the Inquisition about, we should all go together. I'll fetch Ed and our beasts; meet you out front?”

I nod and turn to fetch my own wild cohort, heading to meet everyone out front on the stairs and cleaning myself off as I walk. Considering, I switch my sleeves to a light jacket, a long and slightly puffy blue skirt, and crocks. Magically cleaning up after myself every few minutes is fine indoors where I can be reasonably sure I'm not being watched, but once outside? No. Better to let it run down my leg until I can get some pads.  Shouldn't be too big of a deal outside, right?

We walk the few miles to the shops, enjoying the weather, and I try to ignore the slow trickle running down my leg.  The wet trail behind me fades quickly enough - it's almost entirely water.  

One of my “Als” points something out at a crowded crosswalk while waiting for the light to change, “We're making everyone aroused.”

I glance around… sure enough, that woman in the red blouse and gray jacket next to me is flushed, licking her lips, slowly rocking her hips, and quietly checking out the caboose on a nearby man… who is also flushed and is pitching quite the tent in his blue jeans as he breathes hard while rather pointedly staring at a donut sign across the street.  Fortunately the light changes quickly enough, and we're off.

For the rest of the walk, I can't help but notice the effect, as now I'm paying attention to it. My steady trickle seems to affect both men and women alike, getting them 'warmed up’ but not giving them a specific target… side note, I have no idea who that sorority we passed is going to choose, but he's in for one wild ride.

We reach the coin shop we're after mostly without incident; it’s a little hole in the wall shop, a tiny storefront wedged in between two others, with a frosted glass door that says “Carl's Collectable Coins” in gold lettering, along with the shop's hours.

“It's your show,” Betty encourages when I pause at the door.

Leaving the animals and my team just outside, I open the door, and step through to the sound of a bell rung by the opening door… I look up… yes, an old fashioned brass bell.  Or is it bronze? I don't know how to tell….

“That one's brass.  Bronze is generally redder,” one of my Intelligence-based “Als” informs me.

Thanks, I guess.

The interior is crowded.  The aisle between the glass display cases (full of old coins, of course) on either side of this hallway of a shop is maybe two feet wide… and the desk at the far end has a young man - possibly still a teenager - in a blue baseball cap and red polo shirt reading a comic behind a wooden desk… but at least he's clean, shaven, and looks like his shirt is tucked in.

He looks up from his comic when he hears the bell, and smiles at me, “Welcome to Carl's Collectable Coins; I'm Carl the third; what can I do for you?” as he sets his comic down.

“Hi Carl,” I try to ignore liquid running down my thigh, “I have some coins to appraise, and maybe sell.” I'm selling them unless the price is basically nothing, but these are mint condition (now - they weren't when we found them) coins over a century old. I pour out the bag I'm using to carry them.

Carl the third picks one up at random and stares at it for a moment, sets it down without a word, checks another, then turns to the door behind him and opens it, “Grandpa,” he shouts back, “It's for you.”

He gets up from his chair, and I can't help but notice that, yes, he's as affected as everyone else: His jeans look a bit tighter than they're supposed to and… oh, wow.  His rod goes halfway up his shirt like that.  Why does this guy rate a “third arm”?

Still… he stays professional (even though his face is starting to flush) as he steps back into the hall behind him, and a gray haired, wrinkled old man takes his place.

“As I'm sure you can surmise, I'm Carl the first.  Let's see what you have, Ms…?” he trails off, his brown eyes looking straight into mine.

“Ms. Smith,” I inform him; I'm hoping some professionalism will help me out here.  And it matches the ID I'm carrying.

“Ms. Smith,” he considers me a moment, and then looks at the coins, pulling… not a magnifying glass, exactly; it’s smaller and thicker than the hand lenses I've seen in the store… out of his pocket.

“It's a jeweler's loupe,” he can apparently read my expression despite not looking at me directly, “It's normally used for grading gemstones, but works well for coins, too.” He pauses a moment, frowning, “Where did you get these?”

I shrug, “basement of an old house I'm staying in; I cleaned them up,” and fixed them, some were in very bad shape, “thinking they might be worth some money.”

The man considers, “Well… they are. I can give you five grand for the lot….”

“He's bluffing,” one of my wisdom-based ‘Als’ whispers in my mind, “he knows they're worth much more than that.”

I raise an eyebrow, “Is that all you can give me for them?  You know they're worth much more.”

He pauses, “You're in the business, then?”

I chuckle, “I don't know coins, but I do know people. Your expression and body language gave away the game,” at least, I think that's what my Al read. I can't be sure exactly.

The man sets aside the loupe to look at me, and sighs, “Well… you're not wrong. But I still can't just buy them off you for more than that; any more, and I won't have the liquidity to do business. If you don't mind waiting, however, we can do a consignment deal.”

One of my ‘Als’ fills me in: “He takes the stuff, sells it for you, and gives you a percentage of the sale price… generally between about half and three quarters… once they're sold, if ever.  You'll get them back eventually if they don't.”

Another evaluates the coin dealer, “He's being honest this time.”

Well, we have some cash, “Consignment will work, I guess.  What percentage are you offering?”

We negotiate in earnest, and I can tell my trail is affecting him - it seems Carl the Thirds ‘third arm’ is a family trait.  Fortunately the old man's heart doesn't give out when I lean into the table during negotiations, giving him a view down my cleavage.  I'm not proud of that, but my ‘girls’ do get me a good deal; I'll get to keep eighty percent… assuming the coins sell within the next year.

We agree to the amount, go through the paperwork, I ignore the groping (I did kind of invite it), and as I'm heading out, my cheeks a little red, I pause, it's risky, but… “Do you have any heavily worn or damaged coins that would be worth a lot if they were in better shape?”

“Yes…” he nods, “Looking to complete a collection?”

I chuckle, “Something like that… why don't you show me what you have….”

I lean over him a lot, pressing my chest into his back while he works, and in the end, spend a hundred bucks on old worn and damaged coins that have a total face value of about eighty bucks… which I plan to repair.

Satisfied enough, but my cheeks burning slightly, I walk out the door….