A dandelion Bluff.

A DANDELION BLUFF.

Gus had used high vantage points many times in the course of his work.
He looked down and shuddered. Never did feel safe with heights,
really.
A white, fluffy ball floated towards him and tried to lodge itself in
his left ear. He shook his head rapidly to deter it. It breezed like a
kite over to his right ear. Gus gently tilted his head to the right and
lifted his right shoulder, blocking the entrance to his ear.
These sudden movements unnerved him and he lost his balance. Each time
he quickly anchored himself against the wall to stop him falling. Silly
really. What would it matter if he did topple over? That's what he was
here for. Wasn't it?
The fluff floated down to Gus's nostrils. Gus blew hard, upwards with
all his might to stop it getting up his nose. He expected the fluff to
disintegrate.
He remembered, when a kid, playing a make belief game. He had fun
blowing fluffy dandelion seeds from their stalks. Each successful blow
represented an hour: 'One o'clock...two o'clock etc.' How many blows it
took to strip the stalk of fluff indicated the time. (Only make belief,
of course.) But this fluff just wouldn't stick to the rules of the
game. It stayed intact.
Gus looked down again. Vehicles dashed about below on their way to
lunch. Certainly put them off their food if he fell and splattered his
brains all over the pavement. His tummy rumbled. He'd not eaten for
days. Goes with the job. At least on his last job he ate regular meals.
It rumbled again. He reminisced about the slap uptake a ways they sent
out for at the police station. His hunger pains got worse.
To offset them, he thought about the weekend patrols through the city
nightlife hotspots. His six feet, grotesque hulk and size twelve shoes.
His vice like grip, ideal for tackling youths in drunken brawls.
Gus grimaced, sizing up his massive body. He was as tall as he was
wide, too big to hide behind trees, following suspects. He stood out a
like a Zulu in a pygmy tribe.
His office phone rang. No doubt the phone company, threatening to
disconnect if he didn't settle his overdue account immediately. The
finance company had already repossessed his wheels. Gus now suffered
the indignity of hopping on a bus when tailing a suspect motoring in a
BMW. He couldn't afford the luxury of a taxi.
When clients learned of Gus's farcical antics, they demanded refunds
of any expenses money paid in advance. And prospective clients shied
away from him. Yes, he'd certainly had to tighten his belt, and pull
his socks up.
"Look Fluffy, old pal," mumbled Gus, trying to clamp his lips shut to
stop the fluff entering his mouth. (Yes this sentimental fool had given
his tormentor a nickname.) "I'd really like to play with you, but it's
cold hanging about up here."
His shirt buttons had popped open and a cool breeze on naked flesh
gave him goose pimples. Gus was too busy observing the surrounding
buildings to notice Fluffy had glided down to study the cavity of his
bare navel.
Across the alleyway, office staff worked in the comfort of their
central heated offices. Gus shivered. They were too involved in the rat
race to notice him up there. His trained eye scanned each window for
vital clues.
He detected an elderly executive with a young secretary on his knee. A
classical case, Gus thought. That old bugger had probably phoned his
wife to tell her he would be working late that night.
His wife would be wise to that old line. That's probably her on the
phone right now. Trying to contact him. And hire him, no doubt, to
snoop on her old man and whip up divorce evidence. His mobile cut off,
before he could answer - permanently! Anyway, he thought, the bitch was
no doubt she was cheating on her hubby with a younger model,
herself.
Most of his work involved cheating wives and husbands. Solving simple
adultery cases is jam on bread for private Dicks - except old Gus. Not
with his telltale body a dead give away.
Fluffy now hovered inches from those gawking eyes. Gus wished he had
brought his magnifying glass. And given his biological freak friend the
once over, the Sherlock Holmes treatment. Elementary, my dear Fluffy,
you're just a piece of... Suddenly, an antenna telescoped out of
Fluffy's fluff.
"Now I'm hallucinating," cried Gus, clasping his hands over his eyes,
but felt dizzy and quickly removed them.
"Help me," squeaked Fluffy, almost inaudible,
"Help you, Fluffy? Can't even help myself." The private Dick
confessed. Then he suddenly realised. "Now I'm talking to a bit of
fluff. I've completely lost my marbles."
"Lost," said the little fellow.
"You - lost?" Gus humoured his hallucination. "Hundreds of your
dandelion mates in that field yonder. Now fluff off somewhere
else."
Gus laughed until his sides ached. Been a long time since he had a
good laugh. His sides split even more when Fluffy explained about it
being a space traveller, passing through this galaxy. A navigational
malfunction sent fluffy off course. An alien stranded on a strange
planet with nowhere to hide or protect it from predators.

"Creditors, eh Fluffy?" The height had affected Gus's hearing. And
unable to control his laughter, added. "I know how you feel,
mate."
Oh, he'd been a good flatfoot mind. But his conspicuous body,
incapable of any disguise, had been his downfall as a gumshoe.
"Help me," repeated Fluffy with a glimmer of urgency.
Gus thought there might be a catch to it. "Oh, I see, you want me to
help you set up home in some nice, fertilised plant pot so you can
flourish into a dandelion?"
"Alien dandelion!" said Fluffy, proudly. "Live in there." Fluffy
pointed at Gus's belly button.
Gus realised what his little friend had in mind. He'd already put
these hallucinations down to the high altitude and lack of oxygen,
anyway. Won't hurt to humour Fluffy some more.
"Fluffy..." He stroked the soft ball, affectionately. "If I let you
squat in my belly button. What's in it for me, mate?"
"Help you," murmured Fluffy.
"Only way you can help me, Fluffy, is by turning me into a midget,
buddy."
He went into more hysterical laughter, almost losing his balance.
Pitifully, Fluffy tilted his fluffy head first to one side then the
other. Gus's conscience pricked him.
Gus, not really feeling up to it anyway, decided he'd try another day
to end it all. He climbed off the outside ledge, eight storeys up, back
into his office. This had really turned out to be a fun day. He decided
to keep it going.
He stuck out his fat belly, inviting Fluffy into his navel. But the
alien took his promise to help Gus, seriously. Once firmly wedged in
Gus's belly button, Fluffy became Gus's silent partner. Gus, for a
laugh, had agreed without fuss.

Fluffy had the power to alter the big man's metabolism at the blink of
a private eye. Regardless of his bazaar shape and size. It meant, Gus
had no trouble hiding behind trees now - he simply became the
tree!
Gus shrank his bulk neatly into office and restaurant plants, bouquets
of flowers. Even buttonhole carnations. Thus, was the perfect
camouflage, Gus solved all his cases with impunity. He became
disgustingly rich. Gus also became the only contented human on earth
with Fluffy in his belly button.