The Stick Figure Lady Ch 01

Author Note:

Hi, this is the beginning of a potentially very long story. There is no sex in this chapter but there will be sex coming soon. Also you are not likely to find extensive character descriptions, just hints and little features, there will be no cup sizes, nor back-story info-dumps. Details come across as the story calls for them, not in bulk.

Unless ages are stated outright, assume the character to be over 18. Enjoy.

Oh and a word on spelling, I'm an Australian who lived in the US for a time, and as such I swap back and forth in how I spell. Italics in the text are internal thoughts of Jacob.

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Under just about any other circumstance Jacob wouldn't have done it. He still had a reluctance to violate the mysterious and sacred nature of the place. But after having been delayed for twelve hours as they removed an engine from the plane and broke the air-conditioning when they put a new one on, his bladder and an out-of-order sign overrode his hesitation. He went into the ladies room.

Jacob hadn't bypassed the skirted stick-figure guardian since he was a child, too young to feel that his unwelcome presence was dirtying up the place. He did understand, as all men do, that women's restrooms were intrinsically better than those of his own sex, if only for the lack of urine on the floor. He was not however prepared for what waited for him on the other side of that door. He was not prepared for the sudden loss of footing, nor the abrupt fall that followed. His carry-on falling on top of him was not nearly as painful as his breath stealing impact upon the ground.

The section of door that fell on him moments later made a much larger impression than his luggage.

Jacob normally would have sworn profusely at the pain that radiated from where the door impacted his lower back, but all he could manage was a wheeze, his lungs still empty from the fall. The seconds ticked by slowly; in the back of his mind Jacob knew that he'd be able to breath again soon, but being winded always felt like the end. Finally air rushed back through his lips in gasping bursts and he rolled onto his back in relief.

That relief died when he looked up at the ceiling.

"What?"

A blue cloudless sky hung overhead, daylight warming the skin of his face. There was so many things wrong with it. In the two weeks he'd been in LA the smog hadn't cleared enough to see blue once. Not to mention the last time he looked at the time it was just before three in the morning. And there was the minor issue of being inside the terminal at LAX.

The sky loomed overhead, telling him in no uncertain terms that something unusual was happening. Very fucking unusual.

The list of possibilities formed by itself in his mind.

Rapid onset of previously undiagnosed mental illness.

You've gone insane

Lost your marbles.

Cuckoo for coco puffs.

Massive cranial trauma resulting in hallucinations/memory loss.

You hit your head.

Bonked your noggin.

Cracked your nut.

It wasn't a terribly extensive list, and most of it was admittedly redundant. Not discounting the possibility of insanity, Jacob decided that lacking a headache or dizziness he probably hadn't suffered a blow to the head. Glancing to the side brought the remains of the door into view. It had been severed vertically, the clean line just beside the still intact stick-figure.

"No bloody way," Jacob said to the stick-figure, "No. Bloody. Way."

The fact she didn't say anything back gave Jacob some hope for his sanity.

"Okay, so it would seem I've gone through a portal slash wormhole," Jacob said to himself, "Gone through to where?"

Nothing screamed out to Jacob as he looked around; the landscape was much the same in every direction. Grassy hills spread out in every direction, dotted with the occasional tree, they hid what was further away but what he could see didn't differ at all.

"Grazing land maybe?" Jacob said to himself, his habit when working through a problem, "What I would give for a 'you are here' sign."

Jacob froze for a moment.

"Or you could look at your phone you idiot."

A moment later he had his phone out, code typed in and eyes locked to the signal readout. No bars. Not a good sign. Knowing the GPS should still work anyway he popped open the maps app he'd installed for his US trip.

"Come on," Jacob said to the phone, continuing his recent spate of taking to things that didn't respond, "Find a satellite already."

When the box popped up mid-screen with the words 'No GPS signal' Jacob swore at it. He crushed the inevitable Wizard of Oz jokes that popped up in his head.

"I am not bloody Dorothy," Jacob said, starting out for the closest hill.

Reaching the crest, Jacob scanned the distance for signs of life. He sighed with relief seeing a cluster of buildings and a dirt road in the distance. Again the relief died as he looked at the impossible sight before him.

"Okay I'm Dorothy," Jacob said reluctantly, gaze darting back and forth between the two moons that hung low in the sky.

--------

After Jacob had finally come to grips with his new identity as a dispossessed girl from Kansas he set about figuring out what to do. Buildings and road aside, Jacob wasn't quite ready to embrace the alien planet with too much haste. So he looked around at his landing site. He was no arborist, but the trees looked like trees and the grass was unmistakably grass. He could breath, and the sky was blue so the atmosphere was similar to Earth.

It was becoming clear to Jacob now that this was not the first time whatever it was that brought him here had happened. It was all too familiar, too similar for it to be anything else. If he could come through why not seeds, plants or air. Or animals.

"People, human people," Jacob grinned as he spoke.

It was a refreshing thought, the idea of aliens was nice and the possibility of meeting some was amazing but an alien planet was enough for Jacob; he'd work his way up to little green men.

Hang on, why am I assuming it only works one way?

Jacob looked up at where he'd estimated it was he came through, based on how much it hurt hitting the ground.

It would make sense for it to be more like a doorway than anything else. I wasn't sucked through, I just stepped through. There's nothing to say I couldn't just do it the other way around.

Jacob looked at the remains of the door, still severed in two.

It's probably closed, but I should check anyway.

He ripped a handful of grass and dirt out of the ground, crushing it into a makeshift ball. Jacob didn't have to throw it too far, which was lucky because it fell apart in mid-air. The pieces spread out, passing through the spot he'd picked with no change. A dozen more followed it just in case. Nothing.

Always one to accept the inevitable, Jacob gathered the bags that had come with him. The relative value of the items in the bags had changed dramatically. Food and clothing had become vastly more important than his laptop or phone. He repacked what might be of use into his laptop satchel, and put everything else into the wheeled suitcase. If he had to run the suitcase would slow him. Fortunately he'd been looking at a long flight back to Australia, so he had a change of clothes and some snacks.

Off to see the wizard...

"No," Jacob said, silencing the song running through his head.

He took a few steps, paused then turned back towards the half destroyed door. A few moments and a chipped nail later, the guardian of the ladies room was being dropped into his bag.

--------

It was, as Jacob had suspected, a farm. Even on another planet the fences, gates and runs made that clear. There was six buildings in all each constructed from wood, stone and what Jacob assumed was thatch. No glass or metal, brick or tile. It could have been plucked from history.

Jacob approached the buildings openly, listening to the sounds of voices and work drifting out of them. He'd thought of sneaking up to them, but he wasn't especially confident in his ability to hide his tall frame in broad daylight. When he first caught sight of the farms occupants, his suspicions about their species were confirmed.

She'd just stepped out of one of the buildings when he saw her, the door swinging on its hinges behind her. And she was very much a human. A cloth tied her hair back, several light brown strands escaping to rest upon her lightly tanned face. With a change of clothes she would have fit in anywhere. A smile came to Jacob's face as he realised that no matter what else this planet did or did not have, at least it had pretty girls.

She had spotted him moments after he first saw her, and while surprised she did not panic. They both stared for a time, frozen in place as if they were waiting for the other to move first. It wasn't until she started blushing that Jacob realised the way he'd been staring and smiling at her.

Probably best to save the flirting until you know if there is someone likely to take offense.

He quickly adjusted his smile and held both his hands out to the sides slowly.

"Hello," Jacob said, knowing there was only a small chance she'd understand.

At the word her face lit up in a smile, before she abruptly ran off shouting. She was not shouting in English.

Whatever it was she yelled, the response was prompt, people emerged from the buildings immediately moving to surround Jacob. They were making efforts to seem unthreatening and casual, although Jacob was less than thrilled to have potential escape routes cut off. A steady stream of unintelligible chatter passed back and forth between them as they took in the spectacle of Jacob. Here he was a spectacle, his clothing, his luggage, his shoes; all of him was out of place next to their dull woollen clothing.

Jacob had settled on a compromise between comfort and dressing up for his flight. Flying alone meant only having whoever was next to you to talk to for hours on end, and it didn't help if they thought you were a slob from the beginning. A nice jacket over a Bill Murray t-shirt and dark jeans and black dress shoes was just dressy enough without being uncomfortable after a few hours. And everyone loves Bill Murray.

Still, looking around, Jacob could not help to notice that his outfit held more colour than all of the people's clothes combined. He counted them carefully; seven men and nine women stared back at him as he turned to make sure he didn't miss any. Too few for the size of the place, so more were off somewhere else. The girl he'd said hello to wasn't among them, but he spotted her making her way back from one of the buildings.

Moments later a man leading a horse emerged from the same building, heading towards Jacob. The circle opened up to allow him closer, and he approached Jacob, handing off the horse to one of the men.

"British?" the man said, with an accent Jacob couldn't place.

Careful, you don't know anything yet.

"Do you speak English?" Jacob asked, avoiding an answer.

"No," the man shook his head as he replied, then held up one hand, finger and thumb held close together.

"A little. Okay," Jacob looked around then gestured at the people around him, "Anyone else speak English?"

"No," the man replied, "Where from? Britain? America?"

Jacob was relieved; if they knew about America then there were definitely people who spoke English around somewhere. He was awful at learning new languages, six years of Japanese at school and he could barely remember how to ask 'how are you'.

Jacob decided to answer honestly, "Australia."

The curious look on the man's face revealed to Jacob the unfamiliarity of the word.

They don't know about Australia, so either it has been a while since someone came through, or they just don't know all the countries.

"Australia?" the man said the name like a question.

"Yes," Jacob responded simply, not sure how to explain Australia through rudimentary English and charades.

Seeing Jacob wasn't going to elaborate the man nodded looking back to his horse.

"Will bring English. Then Australia," He said, turning to mount the horse.

Jacob watched as he rode off down the dirt path wondering what exactly he was supposed to do while the man was bringing 'English'. He looked around at the crowd, watching as the girl from earlier was being whispered to by one of the women, then prodded towards him.

"Hello," she said to him, cheeks flushed.

"Hello," Jacob said back, moderating the grin that came to his face once more.

"Brea," she said, pointing to herself.

"Brea," Jacob smiled as he said the name softly, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Jacob."

"Jacob," Brea smiled back at him, glancing over her shoulder at the woman who had been whispering to her, then taking his hand, "Come."

She led him through the crowd of people, glancing back at his suitcase rolling along behind him. Something about it amused her; every time she looked at it her mouth twitched. It was ridiculously cute, and Jacob could not help but feel a little bit calmer with the whole situation because of it.

Fall through a wormhole onto another planet and for the first girl you see on the other side. Idiot.

She took him to what he assumed was the main farmhouse, he glanced back to see the women and several of the men following the parallel lines left by his suitcase in the dirt. He smiled back at them, not quite sure what exactly was going on.

Inside the floor was wood, his footsteps sounding loud as they echoed in the open space below. The room was large and open, but split up into different areas. Two fireplaces flanked the room on either side, and Jacob could see what appeared to be a kitchen through the door on the other side of the room from him. Chairs surrounded one fireplace, with seating enough for a dozen or more.

A table and long benches occupied the space in front of the other fireplace. All in all it looked like it would be a nice place to relax on a cold night, although Jacob thought it could use a few bookshelves to complete the image. Everything was better with a few books.

Brea started to lead him toward the chairs, but Jacob stopped her gently, pointing to his bag. Her smile twitched once more then she gestured at the wall behind him. Several coats hung along the wall beside the door, shoes below. Jacob wheeled his case over and left it beside them, pausing to take off his satchel and hang his jacket on a free hook.

When he turned back to her she was looking at his shirt, her head tilted slightly and her amused little smile on her face. Jacob smiled to himself in wry amusement, suspecting that he was going to be dealing with many such looks for a while.

He took her hand again, and was pulled over to a large double seater chair. There were others like it nearby, probably the closest things to couches they could make. Jacob sat, leaning back against the soft cushions, wool again unless he was mistaken. Definitely a sheep or sheep like animal farm.

Brea sat beside him, looking back behind him to the door. Before Jacob could glance back she was moving closer, curling up beside him. Suddenly he didn't care what she'd seen behind him. The floorboards rang out as people walked in, but none came closer to them. Jacob looked at Brea, wondering what she was up to.

This feels like I'm being set up on a date.

Brea's hand reached out to trace the image of Bill Murray on his chest, her fingers running softly across the fabric. The touch was innocent, curious and at the same time intimate. He caught her hand in his, running his fingers along her surprisingly soft skin.

She met his eyes, then blushed once more and looked away. His heart jumped. Jacob had always had a soft spot for a woman who blushed. Not that he could tell her that, or rather he could, but she wouldn't understand.

"Brea," he said to her, not sure what else to say.

She looked back at him, and got a look on her face that could only be called mischievous.

"Jacob," she said, her accent softening the J.

Blushing, sexy accent, cute smile. That's it, you're gone.

Jacob knew it was true, even as he argued with himself internally.

She doesn't even speak English!

Doesn't matter.

He ran his fingers along the back of her hand, and down her forearm, watching her eyes close briefly at his touch. Jacob had to agree with his inner voice; none of it mattered. Caught in the moment he reached up with his left hand, brushing against her cheek. Her head tilted towards his hand, her cheek rubbing against his palm, her hair brushing his fingertips.

He moved further, fingers finding the cloth in her hair, the knot in it, and working it undone carefully. The cloth came away in his fingers as her hair fell free, soft brown strands brushing against his hand. Handing the cloth to her he reached up once more and ran his hand through her hair again, watching her eyes close and mouth forming words he didn't know under her breath.

The return of his senses was abrupt, as was the sound of the door slamming across the room. Brea jumped at the noise, looking around in surprise. Jacob looked around at the people seated across the room at the table. They did not look happy, several wore scowls openly. But they were looking at the door not at Jacob and Brea.

Still Brea pulled away slightly, looking nervous and worried. Jacob took her hand again, giving her a look that he hoped conveyed comfort and reassurance. She gave him a weak smile, not letting go, but not moving closer again either.

Now would be a really helpful time for her to speak English.

Oh shut up.

Unsure of what exactly was going on, or how long he would have to wait for the rider's return, Jacob settled back into the chair. This world was going to take some getting used to.