Beth scolded the two troopers as they tracked the attractive woman who just rode by them on a fast looking bike. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Oh,” The Sergeant chuckled, “They're open alright!”

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. None of the characters, places, or anything else is meant to be represented by anything in reality. Duh! Fiction, get it? I the author reserve the rights, so please don't go posting this anyplace else without my permission. A very special thanks goes out to Cathy who spent the time to make this story readable. Another round of thanks goes out to all the others out there in BCTS land who have encouraged and inspired me to write and keep writing. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

It might be only early May, and overcast with dark gray clouds, but it was still very hot and muggy. It was more like drinking the air because the humidity was so high. Just breathing was heavy labor. That was the bad part about living in Florida, but there were good parts too. Being able to achieve that impossible dream instead of just making do with what normal medical science could manage was at the top of the list.

Bringing up JARVIS's menu on his visor, it was a good thing they could mimic nearly any kind of visor or glasses, even though everyone wore sunglasses in the sunshine state. With his visual display mimicking a nice pair of glasses nobody had a clue what he was up to.

Never mind the boy on the bicycle. Nothing to see here!

If he had to make a guess, very few would approve of his planned makeover. Honestly, he'd been thinking about this all day long. However, he had to take Danny his cures, and what kind of friend would he be to just leave afterward. Besides it'd been a lot fun sharing Danny's new experiences.

Now, however, it time to let the girl out.

“JARVIS,” He sub-vocalized. “Access images of Gina Carano and build a three dimensional model of her. Then scale up her height to the same as mine. For the face use hers and Gal Godot to create a morph with one exception. The hair is to the same shade as mine. Once the model is complete, prepare a program for the suit to assume those proportions. The fabric should be flexible, but firm so I can use it as guide to help me assume that form sorta like a mold. The face too, but make sure it doesn't impede breathing. Speaking of the mask, it should be like the suit, a guide for me to use my shape change ability. Inform me when that program is completed.”

He'd just biked though the community's gate when JARVIS reported, “Your program is ready, Sir.”

“Great.” Griffin was itching in anticipation. He'd begun riding ATV's years ago and had his own dirt bike since he was fourteen. Of course, that stuff had all been left at the farm, and he missed it. “Start another project. Begin with the basic, one person ground transport, the motorcycle. However add, or conceal the bicycle I'm currently riding within its structure. At the end of this trip, the bicycle must be quick and easy to recover.”

“Very good, Sir.” JARVIS answered, “Should I inform you of its completion?”

“Yes,” Griffin was pleased. JARVIS was a learning program after all. On the other hand, with both him and Danny having a JARVIS it could get confusing. Thinking of other superhero butlers, an alternative name was easy.

“JARVIS,” He asked. “Would you have any difficulties in responding or answering to Alfred?”

“None at all, Sir.” The machine replied.

“Then for the time being, please respond and answer to Alfred, just as you used to do for Jarvis. This is to prevent confusion with your brother unit in use by my friend Danny.”

“Very good, Sir.” The newly renamed Alfred acknowledged. “I understand and shall notify my brother unit, JARVIS, of the change of this unit's designation.

“Additionally.” The quantum computer added, “The modified motorcycle template is ready.”

“Perfect.” Griffin exclaimed, as he spotted the area he wanted to go. “Thanks Al!”

“The name is Alfred.” The machine responded. “And you're welcome.”

Laughing, Griffin rode into the overgrown glade that the developers had concealed with planted trees along the barely visible path. However while it was one of many sumps in the Tampa Bay area to deal with the heavy rains it received, this one had also been used as a dump by the previous residents. That was bad, but the developers were just as guilty because, rather than clean it up, they had tried to hide it. They seemed to be oblivious to the small fact that buried tires will always work their way out of the ground.

As a die hard country-boy, Griffin had explored all of these little wooded areas. He was glad he had, since this made the perfect place to find 'materials' no one would miss.

“Alright Al,” He dismounted, hoping this worked. Otherwise he would have to explain what happened to his bike. “Look up Ducati motorcycles and find a black, Street-fighter S. Use that for the bike's cosmetic appearance.”

“Yes Sir, it is completed.” Alfred answered. “Will there be anything else, Sir?”

“Yes,” Griffin was bouncing on his heels as he used his Servo as a sensor wand to find the best deposit of raw materials for his bike to be constructed. Finding the 'sweet' spot he wheeled his bicycle over to it. He set his backpack on the ground beside it after taking out his own nano-medkit.

“The Universal Survival Kit is authorized to use the discarded materials in this area for the fabrication. Run the program, Al.” Griffin took a step back, just in case.

“Yes Sir.” The quantum computer acknowledged. “The USK is running.”

The 'backpack' unfolded itself forming a large square, roughly a yard on a side. Looking like a big matte black blanket draped over the ground, he watched with his fingers crossed, as his bicycle 'melted' into it.

Then all the bumps of the metal, rubber and other stuff underneath it smoothed out until it was flat. A long moment passed, then slowly a Ducati began to rise up out of the black material. It was sorta, kinda like watching one of those 3D printers he'd seen operating on You-Tube, but without any visible machinery doing the printing. As the bike became closer to being completed, the black 'sheet' underneath became progressively smaller until it was used up.

Before him was the finished product, one Ducati Street-fighter, model S motorcycle.

Letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding, he asked Al. “Is it finished?”

“Yes Sir.” The machine confirmed. “The unit is operational.”

Getting on, he found it to much lighter than expected, but that made sense because the USK's gravity drivers were included, which was a good thing. Otherwise the thing wouldn't be able to move. Grinning recklessly, now this was a bike that could really fly!

Cautiously, he tested out the controls, relieved that it really could move under its own power and that everything worked as he'd expected. Now only one thing remained.

“Alright Al.” He put the medkit in the cargo compartment under the seat of his new improved bike. “Slowly activate the Nina Carano template for my suit and please provide a visual representation on the HUD both of it and me so I can monitor the progress.”

“Yes Sir.” Alfred replied. “In five, four, three, two, one...”

Griffin felt his suit shift around him, becoming tighter in some places, but looser in others. His head became covered in the motorcycle helmet with his glasses/visor expanding to become the face shield.

The mask to help him with the face pinched at his nose and especially he felt the tightness round his jaw and brow. He sighed, glad he'd altered himself so much, but he was very grateful he'd copied Danny's idea about the suit. It was extremely useful in helping keep himself disguised as his former big, lumbering self.

Able to simulate his former bulk, as well as hair and nails, he hardly needed the Shaper thing at all. Okay, not really because it would not pass an examination by a doctor, but it would help him reduce how much he needed to use his new transformation power.

His body grew warm and then hot as he willed his body to change. It was not comfortable and quickly grew into pain. Keeping his concentration, he relaxed his power, pausing to take a critical look at his progress.

With a trembling hand he touched his newly formed breasts. It was a far cry from the balloons and socks he'd stuck under his shirts in the past. Cradling them in his arms like a child, Griffin rocked back and forth, tears stinging his eyes.

A flash of insight hit him that this must have been how Danny had felt this morning, after being able to walk and do all the other things everyone else took for granted. It was as if a part of him, which should've always been there, was finally where it should be. He felt whole, in a way he'd never experienced before.

However, there was still a major thing that still needed attention.

The heat traveled to his groin. Griffin was limited with what changes he could make there, since they had to be temporary. However, he was familiar with ways to give the appearance of female genitalia from stories he'd read. He, however, could do better.

After he'd finished, only a doctor's examination could've told the difference. All the incriminating 'evidence' was tucked safely away where the 'boys' been before they had descended. What was left was utterly hidden by 'folds' that looked just like the real thing. Or so his best guess from the porn he managed to see suggested.

No, Griffin told himself, that was wrong. Not him or his at all, but she and her. The name 'Griffin' didn't fit all that well either, but she'd given other names a lot of thought. Bridget, she rolled the name around in her mind, then saying it aloud. “Bridget.”

She liked the sound of it. Fortunately, while she'd been born with a body fully gifted with all the hairy musculature from her knuckle dragging Scottish ancestors, her voice was a soft tenor that was often mistaken as a girl's on things with speakers like phones. Bridget knew she needed to work on her word choices and other details, but at least she wasn't cursed with a deep baritone.

Looking at her visor's display, she was mostly happy with what she saw. The big things, like her hips, couldn't be fixed without altering the bones of her pelvis which, if the soft tissue 'discomfort' was any guide, would really hurt. Honestly, she already had fuller hips than most boys, but not like a woman's. That could be solved by the suit.

“Al.” She directed. “Have the suit pad out the remaining empty spaces in the suit with realistic seeming material.”

“Yes Sir.” Alfred answered, proving he was just a smart program after all.

“Alfred.” She said formally. “Name this mode as 'Bridget,' and when active please refer to me by feminine pronouns.”

“Yes Ma'am.” The computer faithfully complied.

Sighing, she looked at 'his' head on her body. Remembering the pain, this wasn't going to easy, particularity with a sensitive area like the face.

“Al, zoom the display with a split screen of the facial morph, and a mirror display of my face.”

“Of course Ma'am.” Alfred answered, making the changes.

Bridget had specified that her changing power thing would be easy and intuitive to use. Certainty her body hadn't been difficult to change. She hadn't a problem with the related discomfort and pain. To her such a prize demanded a price, if for no other reason, so that the end result was valued.

Taking a deep breath, she focused on her face, Bridget's, even as she watched 'his' old one seeking what needed to be done. The nose was too broad, and the whole shape more of a square than an oval. The brow was like a cliff, and the lips were thin.

Like the mother of all blushes, the heat flowed into her face until it burned. A mad itching began, as the thick red beard that'd bedeviled her since that dreaded early male puberty, simply went away as the stubble fell away as the hair follicles disappeared.

On the rest of her body that thick pelt had been simply absorbed by the suit, but a natural redhead has the thickest hair follicles, and the beard was the toughest, most wiry hair of them all. Long had she needed to use a bladed razor instead of an electric, because nothing else could cut it effectively, but no more.

Spikes of intense pain hit her as the bones of her skull changed, but she had gone too far to stop now. She, Bridget, had to … be. 'He' had 'his' day, and now it was time for hers.

Her nose wasn't as painful as the brow or chin, but still hurt, sending tears running down her cheeks which were gaining definition with each moment. Compared to those things, her stinging lips as they blossomed didn't hurt at all.

The mask alerted her to places that still needed attention, but the painful, hard things were finished. Details, such as her eyes, were beyond simple, requiring only tightening the skin here and there.

Relaxing, Bridget smiled as she studied the two images. They were near identical. It did occur to her that she would have to do this all over again to change back, but perhaps she could cheat, using soft tissue and cartilage instead of altering bone again.

Damn, but did that hurt!

“Alright Al.” She began. “Let's do away with the helmet and mask so I can see the new me.”

“Yes Ma'am.” Alfred retracted the helmet, leaving only the reformed visor behind.

“And reset the display to mirror me, editing out the image of the visor.” She directed, touching her soft lips.

Critically she scrutinized her face. Both Gina Cararno and Gal Godgot had that Mediterranean dusky complexion as well as being brunettes. Her inherited hair color simply didn't match, or look right.

However, Grandpa Joe had a huge library of classic science-fiction, and one of the characters had red hair just like hers, but also had a dark tan instead of burning with freckles. Flinx and his mighty mini-dragon Pip had entertained her for many hours as she worked her way though the whole 14 book series.

However what was important that it gave her an idea.

What made dyed red hair so difficult to look natural was that it really wasn't just one color. It was a blending of reds, golds, blonds, and even browns. That gave her the clue to adjust her skin complexion under tone to more of a red-gold, while at the same time playing with the suit controls to mimic her hair. Like it or not her real hair didn't change and, although she was sure she could force-grow it, she would have to cut it in just a couple of hours.

The time would come when she could keep her hair long, but that time was not now. Besides, the suit would do a good job of faking it better than any wig.

“Al.” She said. “Hunt up an example of the motorcycle suit that Gal Gadot wore in Fast Five and load the design onto my suit. While you're about it, activate the environmental controls. It's getting a little warm out here.”

“The name.” Al already sounded like he was already long suffering. “Is Alfred. Yes ma'am, your suit has made the necessary modifications and environmentals are active.”

“Thanks Al.” Bridget said with a grin. She was already feeling cooler. “That hits the spot.”

“You're welcome, Ma'am.” Alfred answered, with a sigh.

Smiling, she took one last survey of herself, finally deciding on a short sassy hair style like Halle Berry often wore.

“Helmet, Al.” Bridget straddled the counterfeit Ducati. “You better put a dealer plate on the back while you're at it, so I look legal.”

“Done Ma'am.” He confirmed. “Might I suggest you alter your driver's license as well?”

“Good idea.” She agreed. “Make it for Bridget Griffin, age 21 since I might as well be legal with, of course, a motorcycle endorsement.”

“Completed, Ma'am” Alfred said not more than a second later.

“Great!” She maneuvered the bike to the path out. “Let's ride!”

Beth scolded the two troopers as they tracked the attractive woman who just rode by them on a fast looking bike. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Oh,” The Sergeant chuckled, “They're open alright!”

The Corporal gave an appreciative nod, going along with the sentiment as they watched the woman zoom out of sight.

“Men!” She exclaimed. “I know I was picking up something unusual, but now it's gone.

“Thanks guys!” She said sarcastically.

The two troopers did a covert fist bump. To see that hot female biker had been worth getting their Jedi a little peeved at them. At least she wasn't a Sith!

However, with the windows up and the A/C blasting, all three missed that the sports bike had been virtually silent, without the throaty rumble it should've produced. The Jedi and Troopers continued to their objective, unaware that a part of their puzzle had passed them by as the first big drops of rain splashed on the windshield.

Her bad feeling just wouldn't go away as she flipped on the windshield wipers. There was a storm coming.

As she got her son Danny ready for his evening attitude adjustment session, as he called the physical therapy, she considered his friend. On one hand she was so very grateful that Danny had found someone who was so loyal and trustworthy. Trust didn't come easily as far as her son's safety was concerned, but Griffin seemed to know just how much to involve Danny in 'normal' teen activities without endangerment. More, he managed the impossible and made it appear as if he wasn't holding back or making allowances.

She understood that boys needed to challenge themselves, and if she interfered too much, she would be resented. That was why she and Randy let him go to school and encouraged him to be as independent as he could be.

However, the motherly portion of her worried about her son's friend. On one hand he was very mature and had good common sense. His mother, Angela, was beautiful and smart, but her motherly instincts were definitely underdeveloped. That wasn't that big a problem, until you added in the step-father.

Christoper Brown was one selfish, stuck-up bastard. Despite that, he honestly seemed to care for his wife, although some of that could be just a sham to fuel his political ambitions. The perfect husband as the perfect candidate for office. While he did encourage Angela to play the savvy socialite, that was also for the purpose of helping his business and future election plans.

Some of the stories her husband told of Brown's Construction practices showed just how much of a cheapskate, penny-pincher he really was. Perhaps he hadn't been found guilty of sub-standard work, but his 'projects' had a reputation for just barely being within code.

Working Danny's legs, she immediately noticed that something had changed. Even his doctor would've never seen it, but she'd been hypersensitive to her son's health for years. She was aware of even the slightest difference.

The muscles felt stronger and not like their usual lax noodles. His breathing also seemed stronger and more regular. She wondered if she dared hope that the doctors had been right after all. They'd suggested that perhaps puberty could give her son a chance to grow up to become a man.

Up to now, they had waited to see if his body would develop on its own, not wanting to induce puberty due to his very weak condition. The decision window to decide to risk it, or not, was approaching, but just maybe it wouldn't be needed.

As his Mom she was aware of a difference in his attitude too. No longer did he have this unspoken fatalism that influenced his every action. Oh, he did so good at faking being happy, but she was his mother. He knew he was going to die and tried his best to make lemonade from the lemons life had given him.

“That boy is coming up.” Randy said, jovially over the intercom. Her husband often joked that Griffin was one of theirs because of how much time he spent at their house.

She gave her son a look. “A little late for a school night, isn't it?”

Her son's grin lit up the room. “Griff had to run to the store for some stuff.”

“And he waited to the last minute?” She asked.

“We lost track of the time and neither of us thought we needed anything.” He replied with a smile

“Are you sure you want to see him?” Normally her son was worn out by the therapeutic session, but tonight he did appear to have fared better.

“Yeah,” Danny smiled, “We won't be long, and I had a good day too. I don't think just a few minutes will cause any problems.”

“Okay,” She returned his smile unable to say no. “But I'll hold you to that few minutes.”

“Hey, what's up, Mrs. Cee?” Griffin happily greeted her, even though he was more than a little wet from the rain.

The red headed teenager was dressed in his usual cargo pocketed shorts and wet tee shirt which proclaimed “Asteroids are nature's way of asking: How's that space program coming along?” As it clung to him.

Her son's friend, the science nerd who looked like a football lineman, even though he had as gentle a nature as she'd ever seen in a teen. It wasn't that he was meek, but rather he lacked that unconscious competitive aggression men tended to have. Not that women couldn't be aggressive, but usually only in things that interested them, instead of having that drive that they had to the best at everything. Even her Randy had more than a little touch of that with his competing in everything from the court cases he championed to the football pools he played.

“I'm fine Griffin.” She walked to the door. “Remember that this is a school night and don't be long.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. Cee.” He replied, obviously excited.

There was a difference to his usual somberness that she'd always assumed was because of his maturity and the coping with his missed grandparents.

However now, there was this feeling of exuberance about her son's friend. Yes, even with the way he moved now.

She didn't know whether to be troubled or happy for him over this new development. Hopefully this meant he was healing from his grief and not falling into some kind of trouble, as teens were wont to do. She decided to keep a watchful eye and hope for the best. It was spying of a kind, but as a parent she had responsibilities to fulfill to both Danny and Griffin.

“Goodnight boys,” She said, shutting the door behind her.