Lady Friday stared over the Middle House, her domain. The ceiling glowed beautifully blue, casting light onto her brown skin and long, black hair, and her hazel eyes stared out over the hustle and bustle of her workers beneath her. But her mind was not on the denizens below. Instead, she was puzzling over something the Architect had told her, a small side comment which at the time had seemed inconsequential:

"I wish we felt as mortals do, Friday."

What their creator meant by that, the denizen often wondered. She had physical sensations, as well as an emotional range that she considered diverse. She was even better than most Secondary Realm inhabitants – she could use magic without it affecting her negatively. She was a leader – an effective scribe and manager of the Middle House. Her sector ran as smoothly as it had since the Architect had first created it – records were created in the higher reaches of her domain, before they were packed and then sent off down the primary river towards toe Lower House, where Monday would archive them all. Everything was right, everything was working smoothly.

So why did she feel this… emptiness? Anxiety? Purposelessness?

She knew that Monday felt the same – she could see that in the way he was begging to ignore his workload, not caring for the proper ordering of the documents she sent down to him. But unlike the lesser Day, Friday at least knew her records could alter the fate of those living in the Secondary Realms – if she chose to let a mortal die, or rise to fame, it would be so. This power over events transpiring outside the House motivated Lady Friday to ensure the continuing functionality of the Middle House. But despite this still didn't answer her deep-seated anxieties.

Why couldn't she feel as mortals do?

An idea sprang up in her mind. Since none of the denizens of the house could possibly understand how the mortals felt, then perhaps if she went to the Secondary Realms, then she could see what made them feel.

She decided that she would bend the strict rules placed on her by the Architect to seek the answers to that question. She, her Times and her top officials would leave the happily functioning Middle House to observe the Secondary Realms. Although numerous worlds were surveyed, Lady Friday took a personal interest in the planet Earth, probably because the mortals which resided there bore a striking resemblance to denizens of the House, and even the Architect. The mortals there also appeared to have highly volatile in regards to their emotional range – they seemed to express sentiments that Friday couldn't understand.

This infuriated Friday intensely. How could these mortal creatures, with such a short lifespan and fragile minds and bodies, possibly be able to experience a richer life than her? She, who was master of the Middle House? The very notion gave her rages which could have made that monster Sir Thursday proud (if that was possible for him – ever since he had brutally murdered his counterpart Chetverg, explosive rage was all the denizen could exhibit these days).

It was during one of those rages that she discovered how to do it.

She hadn't intended for anything to happen. She had simply been frustrated and angry. She had been walking in a hospital, watching the elderly say passionate farewells to their loved ones, or praying to some sky gods with a fervour she could not even imagine. Angrily, she had walked over to an old woman, who was lying alone, her tear-stained eyes staring up at the ceiling in pain and misery.

Friday had asked the old woman why she felt sad. Surely, as one who had seen so many problems in the world, she could appreciate returning to the Nothing from which she came? But the old woman was the opposite of calm and collected – she was scared of the idea of a bleak emptiness, the Nothing wanting to reclaim her. Frustrated by this dying woman, Friday had clasped at the necklace around her neck – the Fifth Key – and muttered something in rage.

Suddenly, a bright light left the woman, and traced its way into Friday. The second it touched her dark skin, Friday was assaulted by a world of sensations she had never experienced. Fear, pain, love, hatred, misery, euphoria, hatred, anger, bliss, contentedness all washed over her, although one particular sensation hit her harder than the others:

Lust.

Quickly abandoning the Secondary Realms with her confused retinue, Lady Friday secluded herself, attempting to make sense of everything. Her body felt as though it was on fire, but in a way which was pleasurable. Inside her, something was stirring, and alone in her chambers she began touching her body where the sensations were particularly sensitive. When her fingers brushed over certain areas, waves of pleasure erupted over her body, and she became greedy for more, eagerly allowing her hands and the Fifth Key to probe her sensitive form.

Sensations she couldn't even comprehend hit her. She quickly discovered that she, like these mortal humans, had been given certain physical attributes, which when awoken provided sources of pleasure that the Trustee could not have before now comprehended. Even now, she was confident her denizen mind was still not able to fully process what she had just experienced – what she had done to her body and mind. It felt illicit, unknown, exciting.

The first time the sensations had lasted a full three House Days. During that time, the Middle House had run smoothly without its leader, although the sun had taken slightly longer to pass across the sky. When Lady Friday finally emerged from her private quarters, red-eyed from lack of sleep, her Times rushed anxiously over to her, attempting to see if their mistress was in need of any assistance.

"Get me another mortal. Preferably old. Make sure they have had a full life. I will ensure you get some of what I experience, fear not my beloved Times," Lady Friday had cooed, the effects having dulled her usually authoritative nature.

Her Times glanced at each other before Dawn stood forward.

"My Lady, there are some issues surrounding the binding of papers at the Press. It may require your attention-" the golden denizen said, his blonde hair and golden eyes glowing softly.

Friday placed her fingers on Dawn's golden lips, silencing the rest of his report. Looking into his eyes, she smiled dreamily.

"I'm sure there are some issues, but considering the backlog that that sloth Monday has caused amongst our system, I'm sure we can allow for a little inefficiency here and there," she dismissed, and then turned her attention to Noon.

"Now, please hurry to get me another mortal my dear Noon. You will get the lion's share of the leftovers, I promise you. As for you Dawn, be a doll and fix the problem for me while I'm away. Dusk, you may come with me also."

Noon, Dusk and Lady Friday departed, leaving a speechless Dawn standing in the ante-chamber of Lady Friday's quarters.

Friday had been in the middle of an experiencing when Superior Saturday had called her into the Upper House. Initially Friday had wanted to ignore the command, but when Saturday's Dusk hinted that Saturday may remove Friday's key, the Day surrendered.

The duo had made their way up to Saturday's office, situated at the top of a relatively tall tower (a hundred metres off the ground). The rain was pouring down, although the landing which they had arrived at was protected by a roof, and any other drops were stopped by Dusk's large, black umbrella.

That's funny, Lady Friday thought to herself as she staggered after Dusk. I always though Saturday despised the rain…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Saturday, an appearance which stopped Fridays heart and mind.

Saturday was absolutely beautiful.

Objectively, Friday should have realised this. Superior Saturday, as the oldest - and arguably second most senior denizen - in existence was created to be beautiful. Electric blue hair, ice blue eyes and turquoise skin, not to mention her staggering height, made her imposing to behold. But behind the fierce glare and ugly grimace, Friday thought she saw something more profound. A softness; a faint glimpse into something more than this icy cold exterior. Something to match her jaw dropping (among other parts of her body-affecting) beauty…

"Lady Friday, you are supposed to bow to a superior denizen, especially one who should rightly be Supreme Sunday," Superior Saturday growled, breaking the lesser day from her trance.

"Of course, my lady," Friday said, without the usual bitterness that accompanied having to kneel before Saturday. It seemed so natural, kneeling before her; her body looked so much better from here, and Friday could make out parts of Saturday's form which had previously been hidden from her gaze.

Saturday seemed oblivious to Friday's lecherous gaze, instead inviting the other Day to stand up. To be beside her – the only natural place for me of course. Beside my Goddess…

"Now, I am going to alert you to a plan of mine, because I will need your assistance," Saturday was saying, although Friday was almost unable to hear through the fog that gripped her mind. Oh what I could do to you milady, the pleasures we could get together…

Saturday was harping on about a tower, and the Incomparable Gardens, something about becoming Supreme Sunday, and then what was that about defending the Middle House from incursions? It didn't really matter to Friday – she could always ask for everything in writing later. But she was elated by a new feeling in her chest (and nether regions). She had found a purpose.

Lady Friday needed to win Superior Saturday's heart.

Her new purpose gave Friday new energy. She added a few more mortals from the Secondary Realms for her Experiencing, which energised her more than made her sluggish these days. She kept a wary eye on Wednesday, who she viewed as a potential threat – why would the other female denizen be so close to her goddess? She became especially suspicious when Wednesday began to develop a massive appetite, wondering whether the wretched admiral wanted to perhaps consume Saturday literally as well as metaphorically. She learned to hate the pretentious and undeserving Lord Sunday, whose youthful appearance and dismissive attitude had previously not bothered her. All for Saturday, the Superior Sorceress.

Everywhere she went, she was followed by her Saturday. Friday had to have the blue ceiling in the Middle House hidden behind a layer of thick clouds – it was far too distracting, and reminded her of the eyes of her beloved (and there were some things that Lady Friday did not want the perfect Saturday seeing her doing). She took to dressing her Noon and Dusk in blue wigs to create the illusion of the sorceress being there – although Friday had to give up, as Noon was male, and both Dusk and Noon had the same dark skin, hair and eyes that she had, not the stunning blue hair or turquoise skin of Saturday.

She found excuses to visit the superior denizen in her own realm (Saturday would never lower herself to visit the Upper House, so Friday would be the one who had to make the effort), and spent more time haunting the ever-growing tower than in the Upper House. She knew that Dawn took care of everything there anyway, and with Dusk and Noon enjoying themselves at the Retreat most of the time, she felt she deserved to have some time off with her beloved. Admittedly, Saturday was still out of her reach for now – all her dark, twisted and mortal-inspired plans were still theoretical at this point. But Lady Friday was loathe to give up this easily – after all, was it only yesterday that Saturday had actually reached over and touched her shoulder, and smiled at her? Those impossible blue eyes and the soft words spoken in thanks had given the lesser Trustee hours of entertainment that evening. Soon they would be together, and Friday was aching to be able to return the pleasure Saturday had caused her over these past years.

Soon…

It had to end of course. Everything had to come to a head at some point, and Friday knew that. She had to time it right of course – she couldn't just pick a random day and simply declare her carnal intentions for Saturday – she needed to ensure that the other Trustee was on a cusp of a victory, as that is when the superior denizen would be in an elated mood. Which, if her theories (and mortal experiences were anything to go by) would make her more accepting of Friday's advances.

That was the theory at any rate.

She had wanted to do it after the Days had transformed Wednesday into the Behemoth. Although the overall plan to entice Wednesday then betray her had been Saturday's, it was Friday's particular venomous suggestion to turn the gluttonous Trustee into a whale ("that will be the fate of any who dare come between my Saturday and me!" Friday had sneered after the deed was done), and she felt that their "first date" could end on a very… positive note. But although she had wanted to so gladly fall into those beautiful arms, Friday's gut instinct told her to wait – good girls don't do bad things on the first date anyway. After going through a dozen more mortals experiences, she realised she was wise not to make a move on the first date – she didn't want Saturday to disrespect her as a female denizen after all!

The next opportunity came when Saturday had the Piper expelled into the Nothing that surrounded the House (it was into a shaft in the Grim's Pit actually – though how Saturday managed to con the Piper into going down there was quite beyond Friday). This was another situation which Staurday had masterminded, but Friday had executed. Friday herself had come down with the Piper to the Pit, and, after showing the execution papers signed by Sunday, thrown the confused young man into the Nothing. She thought briefly that she should probably feel bad for the little man – after all, Sunday had never even seen those papers (Saturday had got his signature for an alteration in elevator times, and then transferred the signature to the Piper's death warrant). But then Friday recalled every time the sleazy man had let his hands wander over Saturday's body, and felt justified in her actions. After all, had she not said that all who got between Saturday and her would be doomed?

No other opportunity presented itself for several centuries. It was only after the arrival of the Heir, and the defeat of the first three Trustees (and their subsequently mysterious deaths) that Friday had the chance. "A now or never moment," thought the Day, as she ascended the enormous tower of the Upper House.

Saturday had been waiting in her glass office, high above the ground. When Friday entered, the denizen had been staring intently at the sky, muttering something that could have been "whipped cream sundae", although Friday was pretty certain it contained much more pointed words towards the uppity Sunday than a general appreciation for a mortal drink. It seemed brighter in this glass prism as well, but when Friday looked up to see if the ceiling was brighter, the clouds seemed to be as dark and gloomy as they had always been.

"Friday! This had better be important, either pertaining to either the Heir or perhaps allowing our forces to combine for an assault on the Gardens. If it isn't, I will cut off your mortal supply for a year!" Saturday snapped, turning to look at the junior Day. Her eyes were blue flames, sending heat rushing through Friday's body – certain areas felt as though they had spontaneously combusted, and Friday had to quickly check to make sure they hadn't.

"Actually, it does involve the two of us… joining forces," Friday smiled, but there was an unsavoury look – she was a predator, stalking blue prey. Nothing would get between them now. They were alone, and the time was near…

Saturday's previous fury mellowed considerably, and she flashed a dazzling smile, which all but melted Friday.

"My dear Friday, I am so glad you have finally decided to join with me tonight. It is only fitting that this should be so – I will need you to guard the Upper House from assaults from the Heir and the Piper and his mysterious army of New Nithlings – this will free my forces up to launch our unstoppable assault on the Gardens. Sunday has so depleted his forces now that he is basically alone in his world of bugs and Times," Saturday explained, and stepped out from behind her desk to address the other Trustee. Friday's heart rate doubled with every step, so much so that she could barely hear that angelic voice. Saturday was right in front of her now, looking down at her, her smile genuine and enticing. How could she say no to that?

And suddenly there was no space, and their lips were together.

Friday was beyond ecstatic. Not even the best of mortal experiences could ever compare with this! The sweet taste of her mouth against hers was impossible – and there was so many sensations going through her body elsewhere that she could barely stand upright. Her arms were holding the taller Day close, and the turquoise skin was not nearly as cold as she imagined – in fact it was unbelievably warm.

But why wasn't Saturday kissing back? Surely she had wanted this just as much as Friday had? Isn't that what all those looks were, all the subtle touches throughout the centuries, millennium even? Friday reluctantly drew her head back to look at her lover's perfect face…

… Only to be met with something hideous instead: blue flames in an empty, grey skull, whilst emerald hair dripped toxic droplets down the face.

Friday screamed and made to step back, but a turquoise arm grabbed her around the neck, lifting her off the ground and slamming her into the wall. The monstrous face was gone, and had been replaced with Saturday's, but Friday thought she could see it lurking beneath the perfect skin – those pale blue eyes terrifying windows into a soul long since eaten away with acidic envy.

"What. Did. You. Just. Do?" hissed Saturday, crushing Friday further into the glass wall. Although it was extremely unlikely that Saturday would be killed outright from a beheading by Saturday, the lesser Trustee wasn't willing to put this to the test.

No answer at first, merely salty tears of shock, hurt and fear as Friday began sobbing. What was happening? Where had the tender, loving woman gone?

Saturday wasn't having a bar of it.

"Did Sunday put you up to this? Did the Piper? Or was it that mysterious Heir?" Saturday was heaving in rage, her grip tightening even more. Friday was choking, and her sobs became more erratic.

"It was only me! I love you!" Friday managed to squeak out. Saturday lessened her vice-like grip, and peered closely into Friday's brown eyes. The tears were still pouring out.

"What have you done to yourself Friday? You've been experimenting with mortals – taking their essence into you, haven't you? You are filth. Get out, and never, ever come back. If I so much as think that your disgusting presence has soiled my tower again, I will turn you into a mindless Nithling so fast you won't even have time to blink. Now leave my presence whilst I still allow it," Saturday let Friday collapse to the ground, before turning away and staring back at the clouds, muttering insidious curses at Friday, the Heir, the Will, the Piper, but mostly the Architect and Sunday.

Friday, still sobbing uncontrollably, half-crawled, half slithered out of the office.

Where had she gone so wrong?

Friday was beyond shattered. The vast emptiness couldn't be filled, no matter how many mortals she consumed – and she had quadrupled the amount experienced now. She was going through dozens now, sometimes into the hundreds. She had completely given up on the Middle House, and spent all her time at her Retreat, with Noon and Dusk. She had set her trap for the Heir, the Piper and Saturday – though she secretly hoped Saturday would get it – that would serve that treacherous, selfish, monster upstairs a lesson, Friday thought. Or at least, those were her thoughts when she had them – for the most part, she spent these last days in a delirious haze, not really feeling anything except the emotions of the mortals she sucked dry. And she was perfectly content with this.

But the addiction was destroying her grip on reality. The sweet poison was damaging her entire being, altering her nature. Although she was still immortal, her status as denizen could no longer be certain. Her Dawn kept trying to get her, Noon and Dusk away from their poisonous addiction, but to little avail. He had eventually abandoned them to their fate at the Retreat, instead deciding to fight on behalf of the Middle House. It was no surprise that he surrendered to the Heir and his friends when they arrived really.

Arthur had done little to disturb Friday's pleasures until the last moment. Friday herself had been so completely oblivious to what was happening she didn't actually register that the Key was gone for quite some time. It was only after the supply had vanished, and she was left sitting alone on a rock in the middle of a planet in the Secondary Realms that she suddenly realised what had happened.

"Please… Just one more… I need…" she had begged Arthur, but the mortal child had looked down at her in absolute disgust, without even deigning to properly admonish her.

Never had Friday felt so utterly pathetic.

Friday was still sobbing on her rock when Dame Primus materialised beside her. The Will had become incredibly imposing now, and reminded Friday very distinctly of someone she had known a long time ago, but couldn't quite recall now…

Primus knelt down beside Friday, and brought her close. For a while, whilst the Day sniffed the last of her sorrows out, there were no words. Finally, the older woman said simply:

"I see you wanted to know how mortals feel, my dear Friday. Perhaps it is time you experienced it first hand?"

Friday looked up at the older woman, confusion written all over her face.

"Architect…?" she whispered, and reached out to touch her beloved Creator's face. But before she could reach it, Primus flicked one of the Keys (Monday's, Friday dimly thought), and suddenly bright light engulfed her.

"You have desired what it means to be mortal – to feel, to think and to be as they are. Well, now you are about to join their ranks. I can't say it has been a pleasure, but I do hope your new life works out for you," the Will stated in a detached, dismissive fashion, before vanishing into thin air again.

Friday was still in a crumpled heap on the rock – abandoned, alone, and cold.

Now she knew.

A/N:
I have no idea how to write romance/lust based stories, especially from a woman's perspective (double-y so for a femslash story), so that is why it has taken me forever to write this. I hope my many weeks of trawling through a variety of romance stories and fanfics has paid off – not my normal cup of tea, but anyway. Any advice would be very much appreciated – advice on wording, pacing, style etc. that could help.
Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed Friday's fate!