Rumor Has It

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Rumor Has It

-Did you hear that Debbie is cheating on Brian?

After three years, Debbie Graham and Brian Reed were anticipated by their peers to be the next couple to tie the knot. Although not married, nor even engaged to be, their friends knew that was only a formality to what was an envious relationship. Debbie's friends agreed Brian, the IT guru, was not who any of them could have imagined their fashion model friend falling for, but few of them could now imagine anyone else with her. Her famously photogenic good looks, 24 year old, five foot nine, 110 pound bod, and long wavy brown hair had attracted the manliest of men throughout her high school and college life and on to her rising career in front of the camera. Debbie had been more than willing to be seen on the arms of those many male specimens that were drawn to her, though never staying with any particular one for long, and not at all after she met Brian.

Even after she knew her heart belonged to Brian, she would occasionally be escorted by others, agency models, sometimes even local celebrities, to events some might prefer their significant others to accompany them to. These were strictly business arraignments, photo ops and such. Brian did join her when the events were local, and low key, but travel and paparazzi didn't appeal to the hardware and software troubleshooter. The more her fame grew, the less he was willing to attend. Brian just did not physically measure up to those past beaus, and present hunks in her work circle, he barely measured up to Debbie, standing at a mere five foot seven, and maybe only outweighing her by 40 or 50 pounds soaking wet. Brian explained to Debbie and their friends that he felt his presence lessened hers, but the unsaid truth was he had no desire at all to gain even a modicum of fame as Debbie Graham's steady guy, the camera was not his friend like it was hers.

He counted himself lucky to have her, brushing off the invites from her that would be press-worthy had to bug her a little. His excuse that her career would be better served if she went alone or with another model, as it led her fans to believe she socialized with other beautiful people and was probably single, therefor available, did make some sense. Self marketing 101 in her biz, he claimed. She assumed it was his being painfully shy and self conscious, something she happened to adore despite her desire to have him come to some of her shows. Brian was happy with seeing her off and picking her up from the airport. Debbie was happy too, social phobias aside, in her eyes, she had hit the jackpot with this man.

Debbie had always had an ideal mate in mind, and it had never been based on the physical. Her life-mate would need to be caring, loving, understanding, and have a great sense of humor, things her parents severely lacked, and exactly what Brian had in abundance. She considered herself blessed that when she had found the brain of her dreams, it was in a body she found herself very attracted to. He was only two years her senior, thin, but fit and muscular, although not as tan as her, Brian still had a healthy glow and a dazzling smile. His wavy, shoulder length black hair, when not in his customary ponytail, which she was not a fan of, framed soft features and a round face, and his blue eyes almost seemed too blue to be real. Debbie had assumed they were colored contacts the first few months they dated. His face was undeniably more pretty than handsome, angelic rather than rugged. He was not feminine in his actions or style, but some of their friends had joked that were he ever to follow her path into modeling, he would more likely make the cover of Cosmopolitan than GQ. The fact he was soft spoken and socially awkward did little to argue that opinion.

So when the rumors started floating around suggesting all was not as perfect as was believed, most of the Debbie and Brian social circle had their ideas as to why. Hannah and Julie led a faction assuming it was the obvious lack of a ring Brian should have long ago presented Debbie, alongside a vital question, that was making waves for the couple. Julie was heard to wonder aloud why they at least didn't live together by now. Leslie and Renee and a few others were convinced Debbie had finally come to her senses and found a real man. Toni and Kayla were the only two that were concerned for their two friends equally, rather than siding with Debbie like the others, and wanted to help them work through any issues.

Leslie or Renee were the first to ask among all their friends, how many had known Brian before Debbie introduced him? Was there anyone they socialized with that could claim a knowledge of this man prior to a few years ago? Frank, Alison's husband, was the one with the answer, having grown up with Brian in Lake Forest, friends and teammates on their high school football team. Okay, Debbie was Alison's maid of honor, and Brian had been Frank's best man. That was when all in their social circle who had attended that wedding and it's festivities had first been introduced to this pretty man that was now making Debbie's eyes wander, if the rumors were to be believed. Surprisingly, since then, two other of Alison's bridesmaids became Brian's closest friends and supporters in the group, outside of Debbie, of course.

That was why it was those two, Toni and Kayla, that privately approached Brian about what was said to be going on.

* * * * * * * *

“Good morning, Reed IT Consultants, how may I help you?”, came Brian's soft voice over the phone, both comforting and attentive.

“Bry, it's Kayla, are you free for lunch?”

“No Kayla, sorry, I am quite a pricey lunch date.”, he joked, wincing at how bad it was as he was sure she had, “Sure, where and when?”

So it was, a few hours later, at the Whisknladle, Brian was sharing greetings and hugs with Kayla and Toni.

Toni began after they were seated and some drinks were on order, “So Bry, we are worried.”

Brian, not a fan of that nickname, but too polite to ever say that, or let it show, shook his head, allowing them to instead see that he was concerned both by her question and tone. “What's up, ladies?”

Toni shared a look with Kayla that told Brian they were not sure how to broach whatever subject had them worried. After getting their drinks and placing their lunch orders, Toni continued, “God, how do I ask this? Are you and Debbie okay?”

Brian smiled, but his eyes flashed something akin to pain before reflecting his smile, “We are, I think. I admit, her schedule has kept her out of country the last couple of months, but we knew that might be a thing, what with her job. Right?”

“Bry,”, Kayla reached for his wrist, holding it with both her hands. “We have heard some things...”

Brian, with his free hand, took a sip from his coke. “Not good things, it sounds like.”, he softly muttered with only a corner of his mouth curled into a smile.

“No, but Debbie is not due back for another week, and Hannah is throwing that party this Friday. We didn't want you walking into there without knowing someone in our group has spread the rumor that Debbie might not be spending her nights alone in Europe.”

Toni shook her head at Kayla's going off script, “Bry, these rumors are bullshit. You two are the real deal. Nobody believes them, but we needed to make sure you knew they were in the air.”

He nodded, uncomfortable with this knowledge, knowing it would hurt Debbie more than him. Not for a moment did he pay the rumor any heed, and he assured both his lunch mates of this. “Debbie has never given me reason to doubt our love, and I can only hope I do the same for her. But knowing this...poison has apparently already spread, rather than attend and attempt damage control myself, I will get a hold of Debbie and let her know what awaits her return, so we can deal with it together.”

Toni and Kayla were both relieved at his response, and amazed, it was the longest he had ever talked without throwing in a bad joke or pun.

* * * * * * * *

He sent her a text after getting back to his apartment. She responded minutes later with a phone call.

“What is it Brian, everything okay?” One of the many things Debbie loved about Brian was his self confidence. Not every man could date a girl like her and not get jealous. To see a photo of her kissing some actor's cheek in a cozy restaurant, or dancing close with a male model at some event or another, or the various liberties men and women's hands have taken with her body in mid selfie for their Tweet, Instagram, or Facebook updates. In other words, if Brian was requesting she call him before their usual Thursday conversations, something was probably wrong.

“Hey, Love, I found out someone in our clubhouse spread some rumors about us, and they are not flattering.”

“Oh wonderful, am I pregnant?”

Brian laughed, “I wish they thought that. No, someone has started a Debbie is on the prowl when not in town rumor.”

“Brian....”, Debbie began.

“No, Love, I know. I just wanted to get that out to you, so we can work together to end this shit. That's also why I'm skipping Hannah's this Friday, better we both field any uncomfortable questions so they don't pick sides when there shouldn't be any anyways.”

Debbie smiled to herself, so they wouldn't pick his side due to her absence, he left unsaid. Reason one million and forty seven. They all knew she had a public persona that sometimes required her to be seen in the company of men who were so very not Brian. They all seemed to understand it was for business, and knew that if Brian was okay with it, then they should be too. Reason one million and forty eight.

She sighed, “I am sorry anyways, Babe. Someone either has made assumptions based off of last months photos with that fucking octopus I had to attend that Milan show with, or it's Leslie or Renee being bitches.” They both laughed.

Brian had been pissed that the Italian model guy had grabbed Debbie's breast, but seeing it on TMZ the day after she had complained to him about it, actually brought a smile to his face. Debbie hadn't mentioned punching the fucker out cold with an impressive right hook all caught in beautiful HD.

They told each other they loved and missed one another and could not wait for Tuesday and her coming home after one of the longest times apart they have ever faced, and ended the call. Brian booted up his PC to do some work, but found himself less than productive. He was eager for her return, to hold her again, to kiss her, to smell her, to feast on her with all his senses. Not for the first time did he regret his job, it would have been nice to be with her on a trip this long.

Debbie, however, was right back on the phone. Rumors were a strange commodity for someone in the public eye. Rumors could cripple or catapult a career. But this was her private life. Her friends, now also Brian's, were discussing a subject they should know had no merit, and by even giving it voice in private, regardless of their belief one way or the other, could spill out to potential disaster for Brian as much as her, or her agency.

* * * * * * * *

Brian was surprised to hear the doorbell to his apartment/office go off that Friday night at nine. Everyone he socialized with was at Hannah's or out of town, and there was zero chance it was work related. Answering the door, without looking to see who it was first, was surprise number two. Debbie's agent, Dominic Simmons. Brian counted this man among those he only tolerated for his lover's benefit, besides, she'd known Dom longer than him. Mr. Simmons was a classically handsome man in his mid-40's. Square jaw, straight nose, impeccably dressed at all times, and almost a foot taller and 75 lbs heavier than Mr. Reed, most had assumed he was the man for Debbie, Dominic included, until the day of Alison and Frank's wedding, and she all but ignored her agent who brought her there, to spend the evening with the best man she had just met, even leaving with him!

Dominic pushed past him without greeting, and began to berate his unknowing host with some colorful phrases. Phrases peppered with terms of endearment such as parasite, faggot, piece of shit.

“...and you can't be sabotaging my girl's career every time you get a bug up your pansy ass!” ended the first minute of the big man's tirade. The entire time standing over Brian, using his size to intimidate physically as well as verbally. “She's thinking of calling off opportunities like this in the future because of you! I already had her booked in Japan for most of December! That's potential millions getting flushed down the toilet, asshole.”

Brian raised his hands, palms out and open, “Whoa, whoa, rein it in there! So tell me, is something bothering you Dominic, or did you just want to keep me up to date on MY girl's schedule?” Yeah, Brian thought, a joke or three might alleviate the roid rage on display.

Brian bit back every instinct, and stumbled back from the momentum of the shove, falling onto his ass and elbows, a look of shock purposely placed on his delicate features. Dominic had laid hands upon him! Better to go along with whatever was playing out, and see where it went, for now, thought Brian.

“You and Debbie are over. She can't handle this smothering bullshit, you needy, sad excuse for a man.” Dominic didn't advance, happy to stand over his fallen host. “Either end it, or prepare to have it ended. If I have to end it, not only will it hurt you, but Debbie might find herself having to wait tables to make ends meet, you selfish prick!”

“Dominic, with all due respect, fuck you.” Brian barked, starting to get to his feet. Then the hands grabbed him from behind. Surprises galore this Friday eve. Damn, forgot to shut the door, and this ape brought friends, Brian thought, as fists fell and he succumbed to unconsciousness.

* * * * * * * *

Debbie was two parts worried, and one part peeved. Toni and Kayla arrived at the airport, and greeted their long lost friend with hugs and kisses.

“So you two haven't heard a thing either?”, Debbie asked with a frown, a question she had already asked them on the phone call that summoned them to LAX. The resulting shaking heads and frowns told her all she didn't want to hear.

“Sorry hun, want to go by his place?”

“Oh yes. He better have a damn good excuse!” Standing Debbie up at the airport was a bad move, but not a move Brian would ever make unless he did have a damn good excuse. She worried as to what that excuse might be.

The girls found Brian's apartment empty, there was a for sale sign, West Shore Realty, posted on the door. They shared concerned looks, and for the umpteenth time Debbie called Brian's number. This time though, she got a different response than too many rings ending in leave a message after the beep. No rings now, straight to voicemail, and the message stated this inbox was full. Toni and Kayla had known Debbie their entire lives, and never before had they seen a look of despair cross her face like the one they were witnessing now.

* * * * * * * *

Brian woke up to pain. Florescent lights, made it hard to see at first, but soon he was treated to the blandness of the concrete ceiling and walls that surrounded him. He took a moment, his eyes darted around, he heard the beeping of a heart rate monitor, saw the IV pole with the tube leading into him, somewhere. His head was strapped down on the bed or cot he was laying on. His ribs must be broken, he thought, and maybe worse. As consciousness returned more fully, he realized he was hurting pretty bad in the crotch, too. Assholes must have kicked him when he was down.

Voices from out of view, likely outside whatever room he was in, judging by how muffled the sound was, were speaking in spanish. Mexican accents, Mexico City to be precise. Was he in Mexico? Whether he was or not, the voices became louder and clearer when a door was opened into his room. They noted he was awake, and began to talk to him in spanish. They told him to relax, the procedures went fine, and they would have a nurse get him some water. In flawless spanish, matching their accents, he asked what procedures. After the surprise at their victims grasp of their language wore off, they explained while they unstrapped him from the bed restraints. He was to weak to try anything, and they knew it.

Brian listened, and with each word he was told, he knew even greater sorrow. A week had passed since Dominic and friends paid him a visit at his apartment. He was in Mexico. He had been sold. He had been mutilated. He was no more. Tears streaked his cheeks as he was told how to care for his new vagina. How to use the stent and douches they would provide him, and what to look out for if there were any ill effects from the hormone implants inside him. How to massage the new breasts, and how often to apply the cream for his scars. They didn't even have to touch his face, they laughed, he'd already looked more like a girl than their scalpels could improve upon.

Brian nodded after hearing all this, and accepted the water the nurse delivered. He wiped the tears from his cheeks with the hand not hooked to an IV, and thanked her. She left, and the two attendants, or doctors, or whatever the hell they were informed him he had 48 hours until his new owner came to get him. Brian was drained. The information on top of the extensive surgeries he had suffered had exhausted him. He would need a few hours, at least, before he was ready to even begin to evaluate his options. One option immediately denied him was sleeping on his stomach, these assholes had implanted fucking bowling balls on his chest.

* * * * * * * *

Toni walked out of the office of West Shore Realty and got into Debbie's Mercedes. “It was Dom. Dom had the sales request signed by the previous owner. He a realty agent as well as a talent one?”

Debbie was more confused than yesterday or the days since her return to the States. “Brian and Dom? What the fuck? He hates Dom, he just pretends to like him for me.”

“What about work? Any way we can contact Brian's associates or customers?”

Debbie shook her head, “I looked through the few things he kept at my place, but there was just a business card to some Texas oil surveying company.” She blinked back tears. “I guess I'll be calling that as soon as I get back home.”

Toni accompanied her home, and sat in as Debbie dialed the number.

“Big Star Resources, Sam Ryan speaking, is that you Brian?”, answered the deep baritone voice on the other end of the phone.

“Um, no, my name is Debbie Gra..”

“Debbie Graham! Sorry, just recognized the area code. I'm a fan, Brian has very obviously mentioned you before.”, there was a pause. “Is there a problem Debbie?”

Debbie nodded, then realized only for Toni's benefit, and then spoke up, “Yes, he was supposed to pick me up at the LAX a week and a half ago, and wasn't there. His phone is dead, his apartment is up for sale! His mailbox is full, I'm scared, this is not at all like him!” The panic in her voice was evident, but Sam let her talk this time without interruption. Debbie didn't know this man, but Brian did, and he knew her and Brian in return, so she unloaded all her fears and concerns on him.

“This is disturbing, Debbie. I'm flying in tomorrow, is this a good number to reach you at?”

Debbie was, once more, confused, “Um, yes. You're flying in to California?”

“Yep, I'll need to see you, his apartment, and any of his belongings you might have. Including the card you got my number from. I'll call you after I get in.”

“Oh, okay, but his apartments got new locks, and looked empty when we tried to peek through the windows.”, Debbie informed, Toni silently nodding in agreement.

“I'll call you tomorrow. Debbie, we'll find your man, don't you doubt it.”

* * * * * * * *

Yurie was not happy his new toy wasn't ready for travel. Yurie understood that the newly named Svetlana needed time to recover from the extensive surgeries, but was quite angry that the Mexicans had lied about the time frame in order to get their money sooner. His translator relayed that the patient needed another week at least before it would be safe to fly her. Yurie had no desire to vacation in this overheated dustbin of a country, but he had viewed the merchandise, and very much approved. It would be worth the wait. He would have paid twice what he had for a girl with eyes like hers. Oh the fun he would have training her to be the slut he wanted, and should she prove too problematic, like insisting her name was Brian, Yurie would own a lobotomized toy, her mind was not a asset he valued.

Brian, or Svetlana, as his new owner called him, was doing his best to recover as fast as he could, while appearing to be making little progress. He was no longer restrained, his room was a cell. Steel door, no windows, and the few glimpses he managed when someone entered or exited his cell only revealed a plain hallway that ended in a right turn about 25 feet in. He was resigned to the fact it might take months to get in the shape he needed to be to make an effective escape, and he would be flying to Russia in little over a week. He was as good as dead once he got there. Brian considered suicide the most viable option, what would be the point of escaping, or even living now? Debbie would suffer so. She would never leave him, even in this state, but she would be miserable, she was not a lesbian. It was too much to ask, even from the love of his life.

* * * * * * * *

Sam Ryan sat with Debbie, Toni, and Kayla in his rented Ford Escape outside Brian's apartment. It was just after seven at night, and the shadows were now encompassing the entryway.

“Wait here ladies, I'm gonna take a look see around, and then head on in.”

Debbie and the girls nodded in acceptance. This Sam Ryan was a big man. He made Dominic look small. He wasn't model material though, his barrel chest and ample belly told them he skipped few meals. But for all his height and weight, he was a handsome guy, and carried himself like someone half his size. They watched as he made a circuit around the building twice, even looking at the few cars parked outside. Then Sam just walked right up to Brian's old door, and kicked it off it's hinges. They all gasped, expecting something a little more subtle from the big Texan, even though his voice carried a country mile and his cowboy hat made him stand out like a sore thumb in the southern Cali suburbs. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and Sam finally came back to the SUV.

“All right ladies, I got what I needed.”, Sam said as he buckled his seat belt, set his hat on the dash, revealing his curly rust red hair, and turned the ignition. “Now let's go pay a visit to this Dominic fella.”

Debbie shook her head, “I can get him to come to my place. He has been hounding me for a date the second I told him about Brian. Fucker already knew...”

Sam grinned, “Sounds like a plan.” Sam was on the phone the entire drive back to Debbie's. Words like 'sitrep', 'sodium pentothal', and 'triangulate' were used in the phone conversation Sam was having. When he pulled into her parking garage, there were already five men waiting beside a black Ford Expedition sporting Sam's company logo. These guys looked mean.

“What does Big Star Resources do exactly?” Toni asked.

“Why, we get people what they need, and right now, we're needin' us a Brian. Debbie, be a dear and give your boy Dommy a call, it's almost supper time.”

* * * * * * * *

Brian understood resistance would not help his situation, and might likely get him drugged or worse, when the only weapon he had at his disposal was his mind. He pretended he didn't understand the bald obese Russian, Yurie, waiting until the translator spoke to him in spanish before responding. He nodded when appropriate, and internally despaired, Yurie was taking his Svetlana home in an hours time. Shuffling along behind the Russians in his hospital gown, Brian's head hung low, but his eyes were alert, taking in everything they could see. He was discouraged, none of these people looked armed, and the building seemed devoid of anything even remotely useful in aiding him in either escape or suicide.

He had been underground, the elevator they got in went up, and exited into a more standard looking medical clinic for south eastern Mexico. This brightened his mood considerably, maybe these stupid bastards had missed the one implant he had before ever meeting Debbie or fucking Dominic Simmons. Could he stall? He figured Yurie had a private plane, third world custom agents might be bribed to admit a non-passport carrying passenger onto a commercial jet, but landing in Russia would be near impossible. With a private plane, customs could be avoided with relative ease. Private plane meant they were probably taking off in an unsecured airfield, and landing in much the same. Still, what two or more weeks ago would have been a simple, if risky task, now was impossible in this newly crafted body. He was stuck, unless the organization was searching for the signal his implant emitted, and soon. Even the people he truly worked for might have second thoughts of performing a retrieval in Russia.

* * * * * * * *

“Sam, what's going on?” Debbie asked her house guest of the past week. That morning it seemed like everyone was on speed. The men that worked for Sam had arrived half an hour ago, turning her living room into a NASA command center.

His big grin told her he, at least, thought something good was happening. “Our boy's signal went active an hour ago in Mexico, Vera Cruz region. And now he's flying over the Gulf, north western route, we're gonna intercept shortly, and redirect them to San Fran. Pack yer bags, darlin'. We're headin' to Raider country! Hope this Cowboys fan can survive.”

She was packed in under 10 minutes, and at Sam's suggestion, left her condo in the hands of Big Star Resources, so they could monitor everything without interruption. Sam sped them, to LAX, bypassing security and heading to the military gates. An hour after asking Sam what was going on, they were on a C-130 flying over eastern California heading for Miami. Debbie was barely able to catch her breath, this situation just got crazier and crazier, but if this chaos got her Brian back, then it was worth every unanswered question she had. Like, why the hell was the Army involved in this? She sat alone, watching Sam talk to the general or sergeant or whatever, trying to read any facial expression she could to figure out what was happening.

* * * * * * * *

Yurie was shitting himself. The F-16's had forced them to land at a secluded strip at San Francisco's International Airport three hours ago. Now his jet was surrounded by soldiers, and his calls to the Russian Embassy weren't getting through. Damn Americans were probably the cause. They knew he had Svetlana, but didn't know everything, they were demanding the release of Brian Reed. Could he turn this to his advantage? Yurie Kuznetsov, the hero that rescued a mutilated American from the pits of Mexico? The pilots and his translator, banking on Svetlana's inability to understand their language, agreed that this was their best chance. Even if the Mexican's had informed the American of her situation, Yurie's denials, and the Russian consulate would get him out of this.

Sam left the negotiations to a Colonel that spoke Ruskie. He understood it well enough, but his accent would probably confuse matters. Debbie was off to the side, a safe distance, but still in view of the plane, as the boarding ramp was steered towards the jet's door. She saw him! Brian was getting off the plane, but something was wrong. He seemed to have trouble walking, he was in a teal hospital gown, and was hunched over. Sam whistled loudly, and armed soldiers converged on her man and the others exiting the plane with their hands up.

She heard various things coming over the radios in earshot. There was a mistake? They didn't have the right target? Debbie looked at Sam, and he had the same confused expression she probably did. He waved her over and they approached the hanger the black haired man in the hospital gown had been led. Debbie and Sam heard “Target acquired, confirmed, Special Agent Reed is secured!”, they shared a smile and hurried along, Debbie not registering the title bestowed on her love. She followed Sam inside, him flashing a badge that let them pass the armed guards, and enter a side room with an examination table. The woman sitting on that table had a body even Debbie envied, although those boobs were overkill. She turned and faced Debbie, and those oh so blue eyes were Brian's.

Debbie rushed to him, embracing him as tears rolled down their faces. Sam stared, his jaw hanging open and a blank stare on his face. Debbie peppered Brian's face with kisses, he tried to shy away, ashamed at what he had become, but she wouldn't release her hug. The doctors informed them the medical records for his procedures were taken in a raid performed on the Mexican clinic that had operated on Brian, and would be in their hands shortly. Brian just nodded, allowing himself to be held by the woman that would likely reject him once this shit settled. He buried his face in her shoulder as the Doc's received the reports and read them off to Sam and the reunited couple. Debbie did sob, and Sam fainted when the state of Brian's genitalia was revealed. Brian didn't budge, except to glance up at Debbie when she sobbed. She looked down into his eyes and smiled, holding him closer, whispering that everything would be all right.

* * * * * * * *

Dominic Simmons and his two friends, Rico Sanchez and Nate Parker, were convicted on so many counts, ranging from assault to treason, that they would not see freedom again if they lived three lifetimes. Their trial was not publicized, and the three criminals disappeared into a military prison. In a private ceremony, Agent Sam Ryan was commended on the rescue mission, and protecting national security. Agent Brian Reed, the NSA's chief internet security agent, was reinstated as Agent Briana Reed, or Bry, as she now preferred. Briana declined the job, for even when she was Brian, she had been considering retiring from the NSA to travel with Debbie more. Sam wouldn't allow it, but did redefine Bry's job description, allowing for much more freedom to travel. Yurie and his fellow Russians were hailed as heroes, saving an American agent from unnamed terrorists. When Bry thanked Yurie in perfect Russian, and apologized for not keeping the name Svetlana, the bald man gulped and turned pale, but moved on before the woman could say any more to him. Bry smiled at the Russian's back, not the justice he wanted, but seeing the pig almost shit himself would have to suffice.

Bry and Debbie were flown back to LAX. On the flight, they talked about their future. Debbie informed him of the loss of almost everything he owned, and at her urging, he agreed to finally move in with her. She then admonished Bry for being a secret bloody agent all this time. He apologized for not saying anything, but 'secret' was in the job title. Bry confided in her that he still thought of himself as male, and would need a lot of coaching to learn the ways of his new gender, and probably therapy to come to terms with everything. He also let her know of his fears that what had been wrought on his body might be to much of a burden for Debbie to deal with, after all, she had been in love with a man for years now, intimacy would no longer the same, the plans they had to get married one day were now in dire need of an update, and children were off the table.

Debbie smiled, shaking her head, and said, “You're wrong Babe, I never loved a man, I love you. No matter what shell your soul rests in, it is your mind that draws me to you. Same-sex Marriage is legal in California. And children? We can always adopt if the time comes. As for the other stuff, I am no stranger to sexual relations with a woman, and for anything we can't figure out, there is the internet!”

“Thank you Love, but don't hate me if I consider getting these beach balls on my chest reduced to a more appropriate size. It's been two weeks and my back is fucking killing me.”

Debbie felt her former boyfriend's over-sized breasts up. “No need to rush, Babe. I got yer back.”

* * * * * * * *

Not two months later, on a Friday night at Hannah's party, the hostess was whispering in her friend Julie's ear. “I heard that it was Debbie, not Brian, that was the problem, but once Bry had her operation, Debbie wasted no time in proposing.”

Julie nodded, “I always thought Debbie might be gay or bi, models are like that I hear, and Bry was all woman from the get go, but it took that vacation in Mexico for him, I mean her, to come to her senses.”

Hannah nodded, “And what a beauty Bry is! Toni said that we were all right, with her joining Debbie at her agency, they are going to be modeling their wedding dresses on the July cover of Cosmo!”

Julie laughed and grabbed her friends hand, “Come on, Debbie and Bry are breaking out the bridesmaid dress designs they are thinking about. I love that there are going to be eight of us, and Toni and Kayla as the maids of honor. Poor Frank though, Alison said he wanted to be Bry's maid, since Bry was his best man.” They laughed and joined their friends in peering over Bry and Debbie's tanned shoulders at the laptop with the various dress designs on display.

Rumor has it, Debbie and Bry Graham lived happily ever after.

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