Disclaimer: My sincerest regrets that I cannot claim to my possession these characters or the wonderful show they inhabit.

Notes: Well, it ain't a chapter update, but it sure is something! This little tidbit was inspired by WOYoYo32's story "Jane's Hourglass", which is lovely (though sad). However, upon reading their title, I took it to mean something quite different than intended, and so this mini one-shot was born! Please enjoy! And review! If you enjoy and don't review, it's like you walked out of the store without paying for the candy! Well, maybe not quite, but come on. How long do reviews take? Like two minutes? Geez. Just do it.

Jane did not have much of an hourglass, not compared to Pepper or her mother or even the slender queen. Yes, her waist nipped in a goodly amount, tight with smooth muscle she had accumulated from years of toil and laughter – the problem was her other bits. Certainly she was not as flat as one of Pepper's cutting boards, as she had been for so long, and admittedly it was rather handy not having to deal with things like that while swinging sharp items willy-nilly – but by the saints above, how was anyone to know she was a woman? A dress was all well and good, but she could not stride about in anything so unwieldy when she had business to attend to. She required quite a range of movement and protection from her clothing, and if that meant function over fashion, then hang it all, she would wear the miserable leather tunic every day for the rest of her life. It was just days such as this when it seemed – tiring, she supposed. That damn tunic had covered whatever paltry curves she had day in and day out for the past three years since her knighting, and yes, she had to say "tiring" really was the correct word. The glory of being the first female knight was somewhat lessened by the gloom of knowing, whilst she was in armor, no one could even tell she was a woman if she did not speak.

Glaring at her reflection in the oval of polished brass, Jane grumbled under her breath about well-endowed ladies and their lack of appreciation for what they had. Yanking vigorously on the hem of the tunic, she managed only to disguise even more the curve of her hip, eliminating any hope of exposing her womanly silhouette. Muttering a bit louder and more violently than was altogether necessary, she jerked apart the lacing up her left side. Tearing off the heavy leather, she glanced around her room with eyes narrowed. Her piercing gaze settled on the bed, which was scattered with blankets and perhaps in dire need of a good straightening up if she had time for such frivolities, which of course she did not. Near the foot of it sat her dragonsword, gleaming mightily, an image of her knightly fervor and very sharp besides. Grabbing it and leveling the blade a few inches from her tunic, she began to chop. After a substantial amount of time and more than a few rather nasty curses, the tunic had a circumference significantly closer to her own measurements. Tugging it back over her head, Jane laced up once again, this time with holes she had poked herself and a bit more force. After ascertaining by her reflection that her methods had been successful, her frumpy tunic turned curve embracing, she trotted down the stairs from her tower with blade in hand.

As she walked onto the practice yard, her fellow knight froze where he had been shooting arrows, and the banging of the blacksmith came to a sudden halt. Tossing back what hair she had, Jane strode unswerving for the practice dummy. A quick thrust relieved him of a heart, and placing a satisfied hand on her leather clad hip, she glanced down to see her shadow stretched out before her, its shape a keen hourglass.

The Lady Knight simply grinned.