“Ahh,” I sigh as I climb into the back of the black London taxi. After being on my feet for almost three hours- especially feet that are contained with platform stiletto heels- the feeling of being able to sit down is almost orgasmic.

“Do you want some time alone with your seat?” Sarah giggles as she slides onto the seat next to me.

“Maybe if the seat was a washing machine,” I whisper to Sarah, making her almost double over in a fit of giggles.

“God, Jamie wasn’t kidding,” Sarah says, fanning herself with her hands to calm her down. “Five months on and it’s like you never, well, ‘had anything else’!”

“I LOVE my vagina,” I say proudly, giggling as our taxi driver stares at the two of us, his face a mixture of confusion and horror.

“I love it too,” Sarah giggles as she gives me a tight cuddle. “And the rest of you too, of course!”

“I love ALL of you too!” I laugh, giving Sarah a long, deep kiss that almost causes our taxi driver to crash his car!

“Do you- do you think Viks minded?” Sarah asks. “I mean, us getting totally WASTED at her birthday party when she can’t drink herself ‘cause she’s expecting?”

“If she did, she should have said,” I laugh as the taxi driver drops Sarah and me at the front door of our small flat.

Naturally, the second we step through the door, Sarah and I leap at each other in a passionate embrace that very quickly leads to the bedroom, where we end the night in a naked, drunken, orgasmic haze...

As we fall asleep in each other’s arms, I muse on what Sarah said on the taxi ride home, when she quoted my mentor in saying that ‘after a few months, ‘it’ will feel natural’… Because it does. It’s been five months since my SRS, but with every passing day, I find it harder to remember what it was like to have a penis. Sometimes, I have difficulty believing that I was EVER a boy, that there was ever a time when I didn't wear skirts, or make-up, or have long hair or breasts. With the exception of when I have to dilate or go to the toilet- and when I make love to Sarah, obviously- I barely even think about the fact that ‘down there’ has fundamentally changed… Though this is often because I have plenty else to think about.

2016 is almost over, and it will definitely go down in my life as the year that saw the most change, possibly even more than 2013, the year I came out. This year, aside from the ‘obvious change’ of my SRS, I’ve gained new friends, started a new job, and as of three weeks ago, moved into my own place- or rather, OUR own place.

Four weeks ago, we- by which I mean the entire ‘Angel family’- celebrated Sarah’s twentieth birthday, and whilst she’s still undoubtedly young, it was like the second she stopped being a teenager, she started to become ‘extra adult’ in her behaviour. We’d talked seriously about moving into our own place before her birthday, but afterward, it was all she could talk about, and a short while later, we found a place that was perfect for us.

The flat is extremely small (as with most affordable places in London), it only has one bedroom that’s barely big enough for a double bed and a wardrobe, which means a lot of our possessions are still in boxes and crates in our equally tiny living room. The flat is so small, in fact, that Sarah and I have already bashed shins against furniture (which in Sarah’s case, destroyed one of her favourite pairs of tights), and have had to choreograph a complex dance routine merely to cook ourselves dinner. However, both of us agree that we wouldn’t exchange our independence for anything.

That’s not to say that we don’t miss home, of course- I know for a fact that Sarah feels guilty about leaving her mother all alone in her big home, and I couldn’t stop crying when I handed my house key back to my parents, especially as Jenny bawled all throughout my departure as well. I know that my parents always imagined that she’d have her big sister around while she was growing up, but in the end, they were forced to accept the fact that I AM an adult, and it’s time I spread my wings… Though I do really miss hearing Jenny’s laughter first thing in the morning.

We had a housewarming party, of course, though I think the size of our flat came as a bit of a shock to some of our more well-off friends! All of them were happy for us, of course, though I’ve noticed that ever since we moved out, our friends have been treating us differently, like we’re more ‘equal’ to them than we were before. I don’t have a problem with this, of course, and Sarah definitely doesn’t, but it just hammers home how much things have changed. Sometimes I miss just being a kid, being able to enjoy the experience of being a girl, dressing up, goofing around with Sarah…

“Ugh,” Sarah moans as she wakes up and tries to rub the tiredness- not to mention the inevitable splitting headache- out of her eyes.

“I know the feeling,” I mumble, clinging tightly to Sarah’s warm body to protect my delicate feminine form from the cold winter air.

“Next party, we cut down on the adult beverages, agreed?” Sarah asks.

“Agreed,” I sigh. “Do you want the shower first, or are we going to ‘save water’ again?” I smile as despite her hangover, Sarah giggles at my unusual euphemism.

“We ARE trying to save money,” Sarah says in a sly, sultry voice. “I mean, it IS Christmas after all, our expenses this month will be through the roof…” I smile as Sarah and I get out of bed together and walk hand-in-hand toward our tiny bathroom, where we both squeeze into the tiny shower cubicle and wash the tiredness and the sweat off of each other's bodies- and after last night's lovemaking session, there is a LOT of sweat to wash off.

Without a dressing table in our bedroom, Sarah and I have got used to applying our make-up in the bathroom mirror, which we do once our hair and bodies are dry. Due to the lack of space, however, we’ve had to work out a new arrangement for brushing our hair. Rather than do it ourselves, which would require the other to leave the bathroom due to its small size, we’ve started brushing each other’s hair in the morning- and as silly as this may sound, in some ways this is even more intimate than the ‘activities’ we do in the bedroom.

“Mmm,” Sarah sighs dreamily as I brush her long brown hair. “Don’t tell my mum this, but you do a MUCH better job than she ever did, hehe!”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I whisper, making Sarah giggle even louder. “I wish my mum could’ve brushed my hair when I was younger…”

“Oh- god, sorry…” Sarah moans. “I mean- ugh, how can I forget that? I’m SO sorry, Nikki…”

“It’s okay,” I say with a smile. “Really, it is. Every day, I feel more and more like I’ve been a girl my whole life, you know? Sometimes I actually dream about when I was younger, but I’m never ‘Nick’ in those dreams, only ‘Nikki’.”

“Is that when you’re NOT dreaming about our wedding?” Sarah teases as I take her place and hand her my hairbrush.

“On those rare occasions I don’t, yes,” I laugh, though in truth, I haven’t dreamed about our wedding in a while, and this is because a lot of the last three months- when we’re not working, studying or moving house, anyway- has been spent planning it.

The ‘366 day embargo’ we’d placed on wedding discussion after we got engaged ran out a couple of months ago, and within 24 hours, Sarah and I had bookmarked over 50 different wedding-related websites on our iPads. We have numerous different ideas for centrepieces, for first dance songs, for cake designs, we have over twenty different venues we’ve lined up to visit… We’ve spent countless hours agonising over every tiny detail of our wedding apart from the bridal gowns, which Lauren has promised to make for us- but even there we’ve driven her almost insane with our constant adjustments to what we want the dresses to look like.

After our hair is brushed and our faces are made-up, we return to our pokey bedroom, where I take the opportunity to dilate whilst Sarah gets dressed, though she’s barely pulled on a bra and a pair of panties before she grabs her iPad and starting browsing the web on it.

“…Do I even need to ask?” I sigh, making Sarah frown.

“Hair clips,” Sarah mumbles in a voice that’s almost ashamed. “Got thinking about them while you were brushing my hair… We DO need to make sure that they match our dresses, Nikki.”

“Well, I guess,” I say. “If they’re to do with the dresses, can’t we let Lauren worry about it?” I wince as Sarah fixes me with a disapproving stare. “Okay, fine… Katie and Lauren will be here soon, though, we oughta get dressed…”

“Hint taken,” Sarah says with a quick snort of laughter. “How about this: I’ll only look at hair clips for as long as you’re laid there with that up your hoo-ha. Deal?”

“Deal,” I giggle. “I suppose it’s better than watching you sticking one of these up YOUR hoo-ha, heh-heh!”

“Don’t speak too soon, I’ve still got them somewhere,” Sarah retorts, giggling as I stick my tongue out at her. “Though THAT does a much better job, hehe!”

As promised, Sarah puts her iPad away the second I remove the stent from my vagina, instead focussing all her attention on me as I get dressed. After a plain, black bra and thong set, I pull on a pair of translucent tights, followed by a playfully short black pleated skirt and a very clingy dark grey sweater. I complete my look by stretching a pair of thick, black overknee socks up my legs, trying not to giggle as Sarah purrs lustfully at the sight. Over the years, I’ve found myself growing more sensitive to the cold winter months, and socks over tights is a combination that is both sexy, and most importantly warm enough that I can avoid having to cover my legs with trousers. The fact that it seems to turn Sarah on is just an added bonus!

For her part, Sarah dresses in what has become her usual look of a tight, sheer bodysuit, a loose long-sleeved top, nude tights and a very clingy miniskirt. Naturally, we exchange several kisses before heading through to our tiny kitchen for breakfast!

“Ugh,” Sarah spits as she rummages around in our tiny fridge. “HOW are we meant to cook a proper Christmas dinner in this place? And for ten people, too?”

“We’ll make it work,” I shrug. “So people will have smaller portions than normal, you know your stepmother will probably refuse to eat anything put on her plate anyway.”

“Heh, probably,” Sarah laughs. “I mean, I know we’ve been getting on better recently, but I’m amazed ‘the dragon’ agreed to come along. Not that I’m complaining, of course. You know this will actually be the first Christmas Day I’ll have spent with my brother and sister?”

“Your future sister-in-law doesn’t count, then?” I pout, before giggling as Sarah gives me a quick cuddle. “I’m kidding, of course-“

“Yeah, I know,” Sarah laughs. “And I love Jenny, I really do, but… You know? Blood is blood and all that…”

“Yeah, I love Karl and Kerrie too,” I chuckle. “I’m really more worried about how your mum and Diane will get along.”

“They got along well enough at my birthday last month,” Sarah shrugs, making me giggle as for a second I forget that Sarah means the posh, formal birthday dinner we attended with her parents, and not the 1920s-themed piss-up we’d had the previous night at Charlotte’s house. “Diane won’t want to make a scene in front of Kerrie, anyway.”

“Yeah, that’s true, I guess,” I laugh as we head back to our cramped living room with hot mugs of coffee in our hands. “And if she made a scene in front of Jenny, my mum would KILL her, hehe!”

After finishing our coffee, Sarah and I set about tidying up our flat a little in anticipation of the arrival of our guests, but it still catches us a little by surprise when our doorbell rings and we open the door to be greeted by tight, excited hugs from Katie and Lauren.

“Hey girlies!” Lauren squeaks, giddily bouncing up and down on her heels. “Or should I say ‘womanies’, here in your big, fancy flat?”

“Here in our small, squalid flat!” Sarah retorts.

“Hardly ‘squalid’,” Katie laughs as she collapses onto one of our beanbags. “It’s, like, a million times cleaner than ours, even with boxes all over the place…”

“Possibly because someone never does any cleaning,” Lauren teases, giggling as Katie sticks her tongue out at her. “But seriously, I know you’ve only been here a few weeks, but this place is already SO great, it’s SO… You two, you know?”

“Thanks,” I say with a smug grin as I hand our two friends hot mugs of tea. “I mean, yes, it’s cramped, but it’s SO good to have a place that’s actually ours, you know?”

“Oh HELL yes,” Katie laughs. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I miss my brothers and all, but I could NEVER move back home, not now that I’ve tasted independence.”

“Definitely,” I say. “…Though I did, um, kinda cry when I gave my sister a goodbye hug…”

“It’s okay, Katie was in tears for a week,” Lauren teases, laughing as the mousey-haired girl gives her a playful shove. “Though in a way, I guess it was harder for me, as an only child. Harder on my parents, at least.”

“Definitely,” Sarah whispers. “I mean, I didn’t actually see mum cry as I moved out- and half of my stuff is still at her place- but I’m pretty sure she’s lonely, you know?”

“She’s also a counsellor to three of our best friends,” I remind my fiancée. “How often do you suppose she grills Jamie, Stuart or Steph about you at the end of each session?”

“Oh- shut up,” Sarah says, before a smug grin spreads across her face. “I mean, I’m not a teenager anymore, right?”

“Right!” Katie, Lauren and I cheer, ‘toasting’ Sarah with our mugs of tea.

“Although,” Lauren giggles, “at this point in any other week, we WOULD normally be squeezing our bodies into skin-tight leotards ahead of our ballet class…”

“I am SO looking forward to getting back to ballet after Christmas,” Katie laughs. “Knowing my mum she’ll make enough food to feed the whole of London, heh.”

“You two are definitely going home for Christmas, then?” I ask.

“Duh,” Lauren laughs. “You think I’m going to trust Great British Burn Off to cook Christmas dinner?”

“Oh, like you can cook anything more than a Pot Noodle!” Katie retorts, making Lauren laugh even louder. “Now if Jacinta hadn’t gone home for Christmas, she’d be an option as she’s an AWESOME cook. Kinda had to be, really, seeing she lost her mum when she was six…”

“She had to grow up REAL fast,” Lauren whispered. “In a way, I guess we all have…”

“We’re all doing well, though, right?” I ask, earning nods of general agreement.

“…Still reckon you should’ve come to uni with us,” Katie mumbles, before grimacing as I fix her with a withering stare. “Sorry, sorry… I know you say you’re not ‘academic’, but I really miss having you around every day…”

“YOU miss her?” Sarah retorts, wrapping a protective arm around my waist.

“Point taken,” Katie giggles. “So are you two going home for Christmas?”

“If by ‘home’ you mean ‘here’, then yes,” Sarah says with a smug grin.

“Seriously?” Lauren asks. “But you’re eating Christmas dinner at home, right?”

“If by ‘home’ you mean ‘here’, then yes,” I echo my fiancée with an equally smug grin. “Us, and our families too.”

“…Have you inhaled too many paint fumes?” Katie asks us incredulously. “You’re going to cook for- how many people again?”

“Ten, if you include my baby sister,” I say, making Katie’s jaw drop.

“What will they be eating, crisps sandwiches?” Lauren asks, earning an angry stare from Sarah. “How are you going to cook for ten people, anyway?”

“My parents will be helping to cook a lot of it,” I explain. “Well, they’ll be doing the turkey, anyway, as it won’t fit in our cooker. But the vegetables, the gravy, the pudding… That’s all us.”

“…I kinda want to come along, just to see how the hell you plan on doing all this,” Katie laughs, earning an angry stare from me. “Seriously, I reckon you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. A LOT more.”

“We. Will. Be. Fine,” Sarah insists. “We’ve been planning this for WEEKS, even before we knew we were moving in.”

“If you say so,” Katie says, though it’s clear from her voice that she’s far from convinced.

“WE do,” I say, silencing the freckled girl.

“In much happier news,” Sarah says, fishing her iPad out from underneath a pile of clothes, “Lauren, I’ve got a few hairclips I want you to take a look at…” Sarah and Lauren giggle as I playfully moan that the ‘coffee morning’ has turned into yet another discussion of our upcoming wedding- a topic we stay on right up until Katie and Lauren leave later in the afternoon.

As I help Sarah wash up the coffee mugs- while wearing rubber gloves to protect my nails, of course- I muse on how right Lauren was when she said that we’ve all had to do a lot of growing up over the last few years. The mere fact that I’m stood at the sink doing my own washing-up is proof enough of that. When I first met Sarah, my only concerns were about exams, homework and when I’d next to pull on a skirt. Now, I wear skirts all the time- or near as makes no difference all the time- and worrying about things like exams and homework seems almost trivial (though I know Sarah and my friends would disagree with me there). And now we have to entertain two whole families on Christmas Day… There are times when I’d miss just going round to Sarah’s house and having fun dressing up, even if I did have to wash away the girl at the end of the day.

Of course, back then, the only thing Sarah and I could do with each other is hold hands and kiss, and after we finish washing up, it doesn’t take long for our mouths to find each other and our clothes to find their way to the floor as Sarah and I clear space on our small kitchen counter for two warm, soft bodies...

Okay, maybe we haven’t grown up THAT much.

“…You ever think we might need another hobby?” Sarah asks after our lovemaking session, when we’re once again fully clothes and snuggled up together on the sofa.

“So THAT is a hobby now, is it?” I retort, making Sarah giggle. “I know what you mean, though. Heh, I used to think of THIS as a hobby, not long ago…” Sarah giggles as I smooth my skirt over my lap.

“Technically, it still is my hobby,” Sarah says. “The making of, not the wearing of, of course. You really saw it as a hobby?”

“It was something I spent time and money on and looked forward to doing,” I shrug. “Guess that makes it a hobby, it just eventually became something I physically couldn’t live without.”

“Huh,” Sarah says. “This’ll sound weird, but I really looked forward to those days too, when I could dress you up, kinda like you were my own personal Barbie doll…”

“Barbie’s blonde,” I retort, giggling as Sarah sticks her tongue out at me. “And I would kinda hope that you looked forward to spending time with me, heh!”

“Well of course,” Sarah responds in a matter-of-fact voice. “But- you know? It was something, you know, intimate, something just between the two of us. Don’t get me wrong, I’m SO happy that you were able to come out and live full time as a woman, and get your hormones and your surgery, but- but sometimes I kinda miss those early days, you know?”

“…I miss them too,” I whisper. “But, I guess what’s in the past is in the past… And it’s not like we don’t have an AMAZING future to look forward to together!”

“Hell yeah!” Sarah cheers, snuggling closer to me as we relax for the rest of the evening, playing with our iPads and watching TV.

Naturally, the day ends with us together in our small bed, cuddling each other to sleep after yet another lovemaking session that leaves both of us gasping for breath. When our alarm goes off at 8:30am, neither of us wants to let the other go, we’re so cosy and warm, and the outside air is so cold.

“…We should get up,” Sarah moans. “The shops won’t stay open forever…”

“Just another half hour…” I mumble, making Sarah giggle as I cuddle her body even closer to my own. “You’re so soft and warm…” My body tingles with delight as Sarah silences me by gently forcing her tongue into my mouth, though after she ‘withdraws’, the sympathetic look on her face makes me sigh sadly.

“Okay,” I say sadly, unwrapping my arms from around Sarah’s body and heading with her toward the shower.

“Having our own place was never going to be all fun and games,” Sarah says sympathetically. “Or rather, fun, games and sex. Or more accurately still, sex, sex and sex.”

“Says the woman who’s about to share a shower with her lover,” I say, giggling as Sarah playfully splashes water at me.

“This is a PRACTICAL thing,” Sarah explains. “Saving water…” Sarah moans softly as I silence her by gently pushing my tongue into her mouth, returning Sarah’s earlier ‘favour’.

Once we’re showered, and our hair is brushed and our faces made-up, Sarah and I return to our bedroom to get dressed, with Sarah opting for a clingy, warm-looking white long-sleeved bodysuit, a pair of thick black tights and one of her favourite home-made pinafore dresses. I dress similarly to yesterday in a sweater, skirt, tights and extra-long socks combo that makes Sarah almost drool with lust as I stretch the socks over my shapely dancer’s legs, before sending her almost giddy by slipping my feet into a pair of stiletto heels.

“Way to make me feel small,” Sarah- who’s seven inches smaller than me when I’m wearing heels- mock-pouts, before slipping her own feet into an equally high pair of heels.

“So sue me for wanting to feel extra-girly,” I retort, before giving my nail polish one final touch-up.

“Even when we’re going to see your grandparents later?” Sarah asks.

“ESPECIALLY as we’re going to see my grandparents later,” I sigh as we head through to our kitchen.

After a quick cup of coffee, Sarah and I hop in her car and start making our way around what seems like every greengrocer in London, picking up more fresh meat and vegetables than I have ever seen in my entire life. After just about cramming everything into our fridge that belongs there, Sarah and I have no time to relax before heading out yet again, this time to a nearby cafe. As we walk through the front entrance of the café, I grin when I see a familiar elderly couple sat at one of the tables, sticking out like a sore thumb amidst all the young, trendy patrons.

“Hello, Nikki!” Grandma Jean says, giving me a tight hug as I approach her table. “Hello, Sarah! You’re both looking so well, independent life must suit you both!”

“It does!” I giggle. “Sorry we kept you waiting, the queues at the shops were horrendous…”

“It’s the day before Christmas Eve, what were you expecting?” Grandpa Bill chuckles as he gives me a quicker, more awkward hug than the one I received from my grandmother. “We’ve got that portable hob you asked for.”

“Bill!” Grandma Jean admonishes her husband. “They’ve only just got here, give them some time to catch up with us before shoving the hob at them and forcing them away!”

“It’s okay, we’re really rushed off our feet anyway,” I laugh as I sit down and stretch my tired feet.

“If you wore more sensible shoes, you wouldn’t be as rushed,” Grandma Jean admonishes me as she points to my stilettos. “Honestly, young women nowadays seem to be all style and no practicality… Though I take it you’re both looking forward to Christmas?”

“Some bits of it, anyway!” Sarah nervously laughs.

“I’ve got to admit,” Grandpa Bill says with a knowing laugh. “I was surprised when you called us and asked us if we still had that hob… If I was going to entertain for the first time, Christmas dinner wouldn’t have been the first thing I chose!”

“I remember the first time we invited friends for dinner,” Grandma Jean says. “It was just after we got married, at the end of the sixties. We barely cooked anything, just put on a buffet spread, opened a bottle of wine… “

“We did the same thing at our housewarming,” I say, attempting a proud grin. “But we need to show, you know? We need to kinda, like…”

“We want to show our parents that we ARE grown-ups now,” Sarah finishes my sentence.

“Just moving out was enough proof when we were your age,” Grandpa Bill says. “And I mean, you’ve got a good, well-paid job, you’re at university… If you were my kids, rather than my grandchildren, I know I’d be proud.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, blinking back tears.

“Though if you were our children,” Grandma Jean says, “you’d wear less make-up and smaller heels!” Sarah and I both giggle happily as we relax and enjoy our lunches and the company of my grandparents for the next 45 minutes, before heading off with our portable hob, which we waste no time in setting up when we get home.

“Did you notice how uncomfortable they looked?” I muse as I slip my heels off and rub my tired feet.

“Give them a break, they at least tried,” Sarah muses. “God knows my MUM would probably balk at a place as trendy as that café, let alone my grandparents…”

“Yeah, I guess,” I say, before sighing as I peel off my socks and swap my short, playful skirt for a much more serious-looking knee-length A-line skirt.

“For what it’s worth, you still look sexy,” Sarah giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck and giving me a gentle kiss.

“Well, I certainly look more grown-up,” I laugh as I slip my feet into a pair of flats. “Seriously, you’re keeping your heels on?”

“They’re not my grandparents,” Sarah shrugs. “And I like being taller than you, for once! Honestly, I don’t know why you’re so tense around your grandparents, you get along a lot better with them than you used to, right?”

“Barely,” I sigh. “If anything, things have got WORSE since my SRS. Last thing I need is to rub it in their faces…”

“I guess,” Sarah sighs as she gives me a gentle hug. “Though you do know ‘rubbing it in my face’ is what I plan to do when we get home, right?” I giggle as I give Sarah a long, soft kiss, before jumping back into her car and heading to our second rendezvous of the day.

I try not to frown as the car pulls up outside the small suburban bungalow. Sarah’s not wrong when she says that I get on a lot better with my parental grandparents than I have in the past, but when our past relationship was so bad that we had to get Jeremy Kyle to intervene, ‘better’ really isn’t saying much. Part of me wonders if Grandpa Steven and Grandma Irene always expected ‘Nikki’ to be just a ‘phase’, and with the right encouragement ‘Nick’ would return- which will obviously never happen now that I’ve had my SRS.

At the very least, though, they’re not outright hostile toward me, though the awkward hug Grandma Irene gives me and the awkward handshake Grandpa Steven gives me are a far cry from the welcome I got from my other grandparents earlier this afternoon, and despite my conservative skirt and shoes, I can still see the look of utter disapproval in my grandfather’s face as I sit down on his sofa and cross one leg over the other.

“So,” Grandma Irene says as she hands myself and Sarah a hot mug of tea each. “Are you two looking forward to Christmas?”

“Yeah,” I say with a chuckle. “Maybe not as much as when I was a- umm, maybe not as when I was, umm, younger…” Though at least now, I’m getting presents I REALLY want, I think to myself as Sarah smiles sympathetically at me.

“Our friend Charlotte usually holds a ‘gift exchange’ on Christmas Eve, so we’ve got that to look forward to tomorrow,” Sarah elaborates.

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Grandma Irene says stoically as I try not to fidget. “Have you got anything nice for your sister?”

“I, um, may have spoiled her a little,” I laugh, bringing a brief smile to my grandparents’ faces. “She’ll be starting ballet next month, just after her 2nd birthday, so I’ve got her a full set of ballet gear, leotards, tights, a couple of tutus she can play dress-up in…”

“Oh, that sounds SO adorable,” Grandma Irene says with a smile. “I can’t wait until I get to see my granddaughter dance on stage!” Funny, you’ve never come to watch your other granddaughter dance, I self-pityingly think.

“She’s already such a little cutie!” Grandpa Steven says with a proud smile, even as he remains unable to so much as look at his other granddaughter. “Reckon she’ll break some guy’s heart someday…”

“Or some girl’s heart,” I blurt, earning stern stares from my grandparents. “Umm, if that’s- that’s what she prefers…”

“Well, it’s too early to be talking about this,” Grandma Irene says with a very forced-sounding laugh. “I mean, she isn’t even two yet…”

“On a related note, though,” Sarah says, “we’ve done a LOT of wedding planning over the past couple of months.” I wince as I see my grandparents visibly bristle at the mention of our upcoming wedding. The smug look on Sarah’s face only makes me feel even more uncomfortable.

“Well, that’s still a long way off, isn’t it?” Grandma Irene asks, with a tone of voice that seems to say ‘and hopefully I’ll be dead by then’.

“True, but we have a LOT to plan,” Sarah says. “The other day I was looking at hair clips, I saw an absolutely GORGEOUS silver hair clip that will go perfectly with Nikki’s veil…” yet again, I bristle as Sarah’s smug grin contrasts with the increasing looks of disgust on my grandparents’ faces.

“First, though,” I say, interrupting my fiancée, “we’ve got Christmas to get out of the way first, catering for our families…”

“Yes, well I’m sure that will go very well,” Grandma Irene says, clearly relieved at the change in topic.

Half an hour of awkward conversation passes, and by the time we leave I’m so tense it’s a wonder I don’t rip Sarah’s car door off its hinges as I get in and breathe a long, loud sigh of relief.

“It’s over now,” Sarah whispers, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

“Goddddd…” I moan as we head home. “I know I SHOULD love them, but- goddddd…”

“I- I’m sorry,” Sarah whispers.

“No, you have NOTHING to be sorry about,” I say softly. “Nothing at all, ever. If it wasn’t for you… Sure, my grandparents might like me a little more. But I know I wouldn’t like myself. So don’t apologise. If anything, I should be thanking you. Worshipping your feet, even. Well, more than I already do, heh.”

“If you want to thank me,” Sarah says with a devilish grin, “you’re more than welcome to ‘rub my face in it’ if you like?” A devilish grin of my own spreads across my face as we head back to our small flat.

Needless to say, we end the night ‘rubbing each other’s face in it’ before, as always, falling asleep in each other’s arms. When I wake up the following morning, the sight of Sarah softly snoring next to me fills me with such a powerful feeling of contentment that I don’t want the moment to ever end… But with a mountain of work to do ahead of tomorrow, I know that it must end sooner rather than later.

“Sarah…” I whisper as I softly nibble my fiancée’s soft, bare neck, making her moan with pleasure. “Sarah… Time to get up…”

“Ugh,” Sarah moans. “Really?”

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” I say sadly.

“Remember when Christmas was about pigging out on chocolate and getting excited about opening presents?” Sarah moans as she pulls off the bedcovers and leads me toward the shower.

“Eh, it could be worse,” I shrug. “We could have kids of our own!” Sarah giggles as we shower together for the umpteenth day in a row, before brushing each other’s hair and applying our make-up.

Yet again, I dress for the day in my preferred sweater, skirt, tights, socks and stilettos combo, whilst Sarah opts for a pair of opaque glossy black tights, a tight grey turtleneck and a knee-length black pencil skirt. With her hair tied high atop her head and a pair of stiletto heels on her feet, Sarah looks every bit the tall, slender beauty queen… And it’s all I can do not to make lover to her on the spot as she touches up her nail polish.

The reason for Sarah’s serious, ‘grown-up’ look becomes apparent when we get in her car and she heads down a familiar series of roads, eventually pulling up on the driveway of her mother’s large, posh house. Even though Sarah’s acing her degree seemingly without breaking a sweat, she’s often mentioned how some of her family are critical for her for studying a ‘lowly’, unintellectual subject like fashion design, when her mother is an acclaimed psychiatrist and her aunt is a top surgeon in a London hospital. Even though Beverly has given her daughter her full, unconditional support, Sarah always feels like she needs to prove herself somehow, and her dressing ‘adult’ is just one way she does this.

The other major way Sarah ‘proves herself’ to her mother is by never showing any weakness, or even the tiniest lack of confidence whenever she’s around her mother.

“Hi girls!” Beverly says, greeting us both with gentle hugs as we enter her home and (in Sarah’s case, reluctantly) remove our shoes. “Are you all ready for tomorrow, then?”

“Yep!” Sarah says with a confident grin. “All the food is bought, we’ve got all the cutlery ready, all we’re waiting for are the guests, hehe!”

“I’m glad,” Beverly says with a proud smile. “I will admit, when you said that you two were hosting Christmas dinner, I was nervous for you, especially when you said that you’d be inviting your father’s family down as well, but if everything’s going as well as you say, then I can’t wait for tomorrow! You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”

“Nope!” Sarah giggles. “Everything is completely in hand!”

“Yep!” I say, trying to flash my most confident smile at my future mother-in-law.

“I really can’t wait for the next semester at uni as well,” Sarah gushes. “FINALLY getting work experience at a proper fashion house!”

“You DO know that when they say ‘work experience’, they mean ‘all the jobs no one else wants to do’, right?” Beverly asks. “I remember when I did my first quote-unquote work experience, it was filing eight hours a day, every day. Barely got to ask any of the proper doctors any questions.”

“If I show I’m a hard worker, it’ll leave a good impression with the designers,” Sarah shrugs. “And I have physical evidence of designs I can show them, maybe impress them enough to consider me for a job there. AFTER my Masters, of course!”

“Of course,” Beverly says with a knowing smile as I try not to cringe. Beverly’s one of the most perceptive people I know- she has to be, in her line of work- and it’s obvious that she can see straight through her daughter’s bravado to the frightened, nervous little girl inside.

…The frightened, nervous little girl that lets out a long, frustrated moan, and even a couple of tears, as we get back in her car a short while later.

“Oh god, Sarah,” I sigh, giving my distraught fiancée a tight hug.

“I- I’m sorry,” Sarah sniffles. “I- I think it’s just all getting to me a bit, I just- I just need a second.”

“Take as long as you need,” I whisper. “But if it’s getting to you, you should tell someone, like your mum-“

“No,” Sarah says firmly. “She- she can’t know about this. I- let’s just get tomorrow over and done with, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper. “If- if tomorrow’s really the problem, we could always-“

“No!” Sarah says, even more firmly than before. “I am NOT proving the dragon right! If I cancel tomorrow… No. We’ll make it work, I know we will. The only thing I need is you, Nikki. Together, we WILL do it.”

“…You’re the only thing I need too,” I whisper. “But when I was at college… I remember being too proud to ask for help.”

“I am NOT too-“ Sarah says, before sighing. “…Okay, maybe I am a bit ‘proud’. But let’s look at it, okay? I’m twenty years old, I have my own place, I’m engaged to my soulmate, I’m studying at university for my dream job- which I already do on the side- I’m part of a celebrity clique of friends and have an Instagram account with almost thirty thousand followers. I’m entitled to be proud of that, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are,” I whisper. “But take it from someone who learned the hard way: learning to ask for help is part of growing up.” I pause briefly as Sarah contemplates my words. “My folks are already cooking turkey, maybe we can ask them to-“

“No,” Sarah says calmly. “We CAN do this. I know we can.”

“Then we will,” I say, gently squeezing Sarah’s thigh through her tight skirt.

Secretly, though, a part of me is desperate for Sarah to ask for help, partly so she won’t be so tense, partly so we can relax and enjoy Christmas more, like we’ve done over the past few years. However, another part of me is just as desperate as Sarah to avoid admitting defeat and looking ‘weak’ in front of our parents… And as we pull up outside my parents’ house, I feel my mouth forming the same confident smirk Sarah wore when she visited her mother.

“Nikki!” Mum squeaks excitedly, giving me a long, tight hug. “Sarah! Come in, come in!” I smile as mum also gives a tight hug to Sarah, before heading through to the living room, where my baby sister giggles happily as I pick her up and give her a gentle cuddle.

“Hey there, cutie!” I say softly. “Are you excited about Christmas?” I- along with the entire room- giggle happily as Jenny excitedly laughs and wriggles in my arms.

“Are you girls all ready for tomorrow, then?” Mum asks, frowning as Sarah and I exchange a knowing look.

“…We could be a little bit more prepared,” I grimace.

“I… I can’t say I’m surprised,” mum says softly, taking Jenny from me as Sarah and I sit down. “You two HAVE taken a lot on your shoulders.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Sarah says with a snort of laughter.

“Maybe they have a point,” mum says softly. “I will confess, your father and I half-expected you to move back in with us within two weeks of leaving. Not because of a break-up, of course, but because- well, you know…”

“You thought we wouldn’t be able to handle it,” I whisper.

“We thought you’d struggle,” mum says quietly. “All kids struggle when they move away from home for the first time, and with you two being a same sex couple, and you…”

“Our landlord is neither homophobic nor transphobic,” I say firmly. “We’re fully open with her and she lets us get on with our lives.”

“And I know how many ‘other’ landlords you went through before you found her,” mum says in a dark voice that almost makes me shiver. She’s not wrong- we found a place that looked great after just a few days of searching, but when we visited the landlord for the first time, he took one look at us and slammed the door in our faces. The strange thing is, I actually felt worse for Sarah after that than I did for myself. I’ve not been bombarded with transphobic hate since my coming out- though this is probably due to me rarely interacting socially with people outside my established group of friends- but that’s not to say that I haven’t faced the occasional laugh or sneer thrown my way. For Sarah, though, this was her first real encounter with someone THAT homophobic, and it left a clear mark on her. It took a few days for her to get her usual smile back, and even then it took most of her university’s LGBT society sharing their experiences to make her realise that she was not alone.

“Anyway,” mum says, forcing a smile on her face to try to lighten the mood of the room. “The important thing is that you two AREN’T struggling, you’re coping well, like the two intelligent young woman that you are.”

“Thanks, Sandra,” Sarah whispers.

“And smile, both of you!” Mum urges. “It’s Christmas Eve, after all! I hope you’ve found the time to relax and have some fun the last few days?”

“A bit,” I say. “Went to see the grandparents yesterday. Umm, both sets…”

“You don’t need to say anymore there,” mum says, sensing just how awkward we found the meeting with Grandpa Steven and Grandma Irene. “Have you seen any of your celebrity friends? Did you go on one of your world-famous club nights last night?”

“Umm, no,” Sarah says. “It’s too close to Christmas, most of them are visiting family or have families of their own now, heh. We’re going to Charlotte’s tonight, though, for the usual Christmas Eve gift exchange.”

“Hope the Angels won’t be too disappointed with the cheap stuff we got them this year, heh,” I laugh. “Though as they gave us two of their make-up Advent Calendars as housewarming gifts…”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy with whatever you get them,” mum says. “It’s the-“

“Yes, yes, the thought that counts,” I say, making mum laugh despite my rudely interrupting her. “I’m amazed we had any time to get anything, heh. This last month has been EXHAUSTING.”

“The last few days, especially,” Sarah says. “Feels like they’ve gone by in a blur.”

“Kinda reminds me of Christmas 1997,” mum says with a knowing smile. “Much more manic than the previous Christmas, and you know why, don’t you, Nikki?” Yes, yes I do, I think to myself while rolling my eyes. “If you two ever decide to adopt, you’ll understand.”

“One step at a time, we need to get married first!” I laugh as Sarah snuggles closer to me on the sofa.

“We need to get tomorrow out of the way first!” Sarah laughs, before letting out a long sigh. “Sandra… We, umm…”

“We’ll cook all the meat as well as the turkey,” mum immediately offers, making Sarah smile and blink back a couple of tears. “We were going to do that anyway even if you hadn’t asked. I’ve seen your kitchen- you can barely cook a can of beans in there!”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“Like I said,” mum shrugs. “It’s Christmas, you’re still young, you should find the time to relax and have some fun. You don’t need to ‘prove yourselves’, definitely not to me or your father.”

“We don’t want to have to be bailed out every time we struggle, though,” Sarah mumbles.

“That’s what parents are for,” mum shrugs. “And you won’t need bailing out EVERY time. Just the times when you should’ve known better than to take on more than you’re capable of. Right?”

“Right,” I say with a laugh. “And thank you.”

“Thank YOU for being YOU,” mum says with a proud grin. “I’m so proud that you turned out to be a mature, sensible young woman.”

“Jury’s still kinda out on that, heh,” I reply. “God knows it was hard enough work just getting the ‘woman’ part down.”

“Not from where I’m sat,” mum says. “You know, you had sixteen Christmases as ‘Nick’ and this’ll only be your fourth as ‘Nikki’, but Christmases with you as a woman, they seem- they seem almost more ‘real’ than they did when you were a boy.”

“…I definitely enjoy ‘Nikki’ Christmases more,” I whisper.

“I thought you might,” mum says softly. “I just wish we’d known about the real you earlier… If only so we could’ve got you more of those socks for Christmas!” I giggle as Sarah and I take the much-needed opportunity to relax for the rest of the afternoon.

As I play a little with Jenny, though, I can’t help but wonder what Christmases would have been like if I’d told my parents about ‘Nikki’ when I was fourteen, or even when I was eleven or twelve. For all the ‘Nikki Christmases’ that mum mentioned, my presents have been very grown-up- clothes, cosmetics, jewellery, perfume; things for my car; vouchers for spa treatments or weekends away… I never got the dressing-up sets or dolls that Jenny will get all throughout her life. As much as I enjoy- no, as much as I LOVE being a woman… Sometimes I miss the fact that I never got to be a girl.

I try to focus on the positives as Sarah and I head home, where I take the opportunity to dilate- something I’d never have been able to do as a girl (as opposed to being a woman). And it’s immature to constantly sulk about the past when my present and future are so promising. Stressful, yes, but I still have it better than a lot of people, transgendered or otherwise, as I’m reminded when Sarah and I pull up outside Charlotte’s mansion a short while later.

“Hey Nikki!” Jamie squeaks, giving me and Sarah a tight hug each as we walk through the front door, dragging our large sack of gifts with us. “I LOVE that outfit!”

“Thanks!” I say, doing a quick twirl in my tiny leather miniskirt, glossy black tights and extra-high black stilettos. “I LOVE that dress too!”

“Thank you!” Jamie says smugly as she swishes her knee-length strapless dress. “It’s a bit chilly for December, but we are sexy, successful women, and we need to keep up some standards, right?”

“Damn right,” Sarah- who’s still wearing her smart pencil skirt- laughs. “Are many people here?”

“Ehh, most,” Jamie says. “Kayla’s having to travel up from her home in Southampton so she’ll be running a little late. Think she’s had a fight on her hand getting her parents to let her spend Christmas in her own place, what with her being their only child and all.”

“Yeah,” Sarah says quietly as we head into the vast main room of the house and begin dishing out our presents.

A short while later- after spending more time mingling and chatting than actually putting gifts on tables, of course- Sarah and I head to our table and its generous pile of presents, though the sight of the shape of the gifts makes me involuntarily sigh.

“Coffee maker,” I sigh as I point at one of the larger gifts. “Hairdryer, throw pillow…”

“They’re still good gifts,” Sarah whispers. “Grown-up gifts, I bet they were expensive ones, too. We’re finally getting treated as equals, Nikki, I’d have thought that’d make you happy?”

“Oh, I am,” I say. “It’s just- I dunno. They’re all a bit ‘practical’, you know?”

“It’s just while we’re settling into our new place,” Sarah says softly. “Your birthday’s in a couple of months, I’ll make sure everyone knows you only want gifts that are ‘fun’.”

“Don’t,” I gently moan, making Sarah giggle. “Gah, ignore me, I’m just whinging. It’s not like they could get clothes or make-up that we could both use, anyway.”

“Ignore you? Never,” Sarah laughs, giving me a gentle kiss.

“And I guess they can’t get us ‘toys’, not with young kids here,” I say with a wicked grin that makes Sarah’s eyes light up. Before I can tease her any further, though, we’re interrupted by the arrival of my former mentor and her gift to us.

“Saving the best for last, hopefully!” Jamie giggles.

“Oh my god, thank you so much!” Sarah laughs as she takes the large box and places it on the pile next to our other gifts.

“It’s nothing, really,” Jamie says. “Just something I reckon you could use in your new place. Though by the looks of your pile, you’ve got enough to build a whole new ‘new place’, heh!”

“Just about, yeah!” I laugh nervously, leading to an awkward silence.

“…Everything getting a bit overwhelming?” Jamie asks, sensing my discomfort.

“Just about, yeah,” I sigh.

“I’ll, um, I’ll get us some drinks,” Sarah says softly, clearly sensing that I need a private girl-to-girl talk with my mentor.

“Congratulations for Wednesday, by the way,” Jamie says as she leads me to one of the room’s many plush sofas. “Your six months? Down to dilating once a day now, right?”

“Yep!” I say happily. “Now THAT I am grateful for!”

“Does- is it- umm…” Jamie mumbles. “God, this is something I’ve done myself, you’d think that’d make it less awkward to talk about…”

“Two people who were born male discussing their vaginas? Nothing weird about that,” I say, nearly making Jamie choke on her drink with laughter. “And to answer what I assume was your question, yes, it is starting to feel natural. More and more with every passing day, in fact.”

“I’m glad,” Jamie whispers. “Take it from someone who knows, two years from now, you won’t know what it was like to NOT have a vagina.”

“Yeah,” I laugh as I cross my legs, giggling excitedly as one nylon-covered limb glides unobstructed over the other. “Living independently, though…”

“I can sympathise there, too,” Jamie whispers. “I was kicked out by my parents when I was sixteen, remember? And that was ‘James’ who had to learn to fend for ‘himself’. And let me tell you, ‘James’ was about as big a loser as it was possible to get. No friends, no job, no money, no family… Certainly no loving fiancée to share ‘his’ life with.”

“’Nick’ wasn’t exactly a winner,” I mumble.

“Well then it’s good it’s ‘Nikki’ who’s shacked up with Sarah and not ‘Nick’ then, isn’t it?” Jamie asks with a smug grin.

“I guess,” I laugh nervously.

“I KNOW.” Jamie says, her grin only growing smugger. “I’ve got to tell you, Nikki, me and the other girls are REALLY missing you at work, taking care of us…”

“Your new PA’s not bad though, surely?” I ask.

“She’s not as good as you, nowhere near,” Jamie says, bringing a smug smile to my face. “We miss our teen mum!”

“Yeah, THAT’s an image I want,” I say, making nearly making Jamie choke on her drink again. “And in a few months, you’ll be settled. God, can you remember how much of a giggling fangirl I was the first few months I worked for you?”

“Meh, it was ego-boosting, we didn’t mind so much,” Jamie shrugs. “Besides, I’ve seen your Instagram, your Facebook fan page, at one point it looked like you were going to have an army of giggling fangirls of your own!”

“I still have a few,” I retort. “Laura still messages me every other week. Though that probably won’t last much longer until she gets fangirls of her own, heh.”

“Yeah,” Jamie laughs. “She was SO good in Krystie’s ballet recital.”

“She was,” I say with a proud smile.

“And taller than me even when not en pointe,” Jamie says with a fake pout that makes me giggle. “Won’t be long before she’s shacking up with the guy of her dreams, how old is she now, 14, 15?”

“Just turned 15,” I say. “Though it’s more like ’15 going on 25’, she seems so desperate to grow up… I’d have given anything to be like her when I was 15.”

“You’re not THAT much older,” Jamie says. “You’re 19, so you’re closer in age to her than you are to me. Hell, you’re still technically a teenager! Enjoy it while it lasts, Nikki!”

“Even though it doesn’t seem to be lasting much longer?” I ask. “My life’s more bills than ballet nowadays.”

“Just see those bills as paying for all the unlimited fun you can have,” Jamie shrugs. “’Independence’ is just another word for ‘freedom’, after all.”

“Yeah,” I sigh as Sarah returns with my drink. “Well tomorrow, I’ll be ‘free’ to entertain two different families in a flat roughly the size of a shoebox.”

“It’s still three times bigger and a hundred times better than the bedsit ‘James’ lived in,” Jamie says. “And look where I am now. Sure, I had help- a LOT of help- but there’s nothing wrong with someone giving you a leg up. Though don’t look too closely at me for the leg up, I did already get you your job AND your car, after all!”

“You’ve done so much for me already,” I whisper. “Thank you, Jamie.”

Despite the stress of tomorrow still being very much present as we leave Charlotte’s house with a boot and a back seat full of presents, I have a smile on my face courtesy of my mentor. As always, she’s said what I needed to hear, and the truth of her words are hammered home later in the evening when Sarah and I sit on our sofa and open our presents (we’ll be so busy tomorrow morning we figured it’d be easier to just open them all now).

“This one’s from Becca and Riley,” Sarah says, gently squeezing the flat, well-wrapped package. “…Bath mat?” I break out in a fit of giggles as Sarah tears off the wrapping paper to reveal that the present is, indeed, a bath mat- a baby pink one with the image of two entwined hearts on the front.

“Aww, that is SO cute though,” I laugh as I grab the last box from the pile we took home from Charlotte’s, a large box roughly the size of a football. “It’s light… a Lampshade?”

“Who’s it from?” Sarah asks.

“Umm…Danny and Rachel,” I reply.

“Steph’s brother?” Sarah asks, which I answer with a nod. “…Open it, then…” I smile as I pull off the wrapping paper to reveal that what I thought was a lampshade is, in fact, a medium-sized globe.

“Cool…” I breathe as I hand the globe to Sarah, who eagerly unwraps it and places it on our small bookshelf.

“SO awesome,” Sarah laughs, giving the globe a spin. “Where I stop it is where we go on honeymoon, okay?”

“Deal,” I say, before giggling as Sarah stops the globe in the exact centre of the Atlantic Ocean.

“…We’ve got time before we get married, we can do a re-spin later,” Sarah laughs, before handing me a small bag of presents, each one carefully wrapped in shiny silver paper. I giggle excitedly as I hand Sarah a similar bag full of presents wrapped in shiny lilac paper, and we both waste no time before tearing open our gifts to each other.

We didn’t go too overboard in our gifts to each other this year- what with our limited budget- but we still unwrap various cosmetics and perfume sets, several sets of skimpy underwear and various other trinkets. When it comes to the last gift in each other’s bag, though, we make a point of opening it at the same time as each other, tearing the paper in the exact same way and at the exact same time, before opening the box contained within and taking out its contents. We both got each other gold lockets that when connected together, make the shape of a heart.

Naturally, we immediately fasten each other’s locket around our necks, before linking the two halves of each heart together and giving each other a long, deep kiss.

“I love you so much,” I whisper as Sarah and I melt into each other’s arms.

“I love you too,” Sarah sniffs. “I don’t ever want to imagine what my life would be like without you in it.”

“And you won’t have to,” I say, before giving my fiancée another deep kiss. “It’s getting late…”

“Yeah,” Sarah sighs. “We should get an early night, we’ve got a big day tomorrow…”

“We should get an early night,” I correct my fiancée, “So we can ‘reconnect’ some other parts of our bodies…” Sarah’s eyes light up as I purr in her ear, and she wastes no time in taking me by the hand and leading me to our small bedroom.

A short while later, the two of us are snuggled together in bed, our bodies each covered in a fine sheen of sweat. I wonder if this is what Jamie had in mind when she said ‘unlimited fun’…

I sigh happily as I’m woken by a small, soft hand gently stroking my bare shoulder, which gradually drifts down lower until it reaches the tender, smooth skin on my breasts.

“Merry Christmas,” Sarah whispers as her gentle stroking of my sensitive skin causes my eyes to open wider and wider.

“Merry Christmas,” I say, giving Sarah a long, deep kiss.

“We should get up,” Sarah sighs sadly, before pulling the covers off of our naked forms and leading me to the shower. “Long day ahead…”

A short while later, after we’re both showered, made-up and dressed in casual clothes (clothes we don’t mind getting the smell of cooking on), Sarah and I head to the kitchen where we begin the long process of preparing dinner for today. Numerous different types of vegetables go into both our oven and the portable hob my grandparents loaned us, while our kitchen counter piles up with serving dishes borrowed from our parents, and with each task we tick off our ‘to do’ list, Sarah and I get less and less panicked… Right up until a knock comes from our front door.

“Oh god oh god,” Sarah gasps, fanning her face with her hands to try to calm herself down.

“Don’t panic!” I say, gripping Sarah’s hands in mine. “It’ll just be my parents!”

“We haven’t even got their presents out yet…” Sarah moans.

“They. Won’t. Mind,” I say firmly. “And you know mum, she’ll probably immediately come in and take charge. So let’s let her.”

“Okay,” Sarah whispers, taking several deep breaths to calm herself as I answer the door.

“Merry Christmas!” My mother laughs, giving me a gentle hug that would undoubtedly have been tighter if she wasn’t holding my little sister in her other arm. “Your father’s bringing up the turkey and the meat. And your presents, of course!”

“Of course,” I say with a grin, before taking Jenny and giving her a gentle cuddle. “Hey there, cutie! Are you having a fun Christmas so far?” I giggle and sigh happily as Jenny laughs and nods.

“She’s had all her grandparents come round this morning,” mum laughs. “Think she’s already used to being the centre of attention… It’s my OTHER daughter- well, daughters, I guess- I’m more worried about.”

“We’re doing okay,” I say confidently. “Well… I am. Sarah… Kinda panicking a little.”

“Say no more,” mum says, forcing Jenny back into my arms before heading back to our front door. “Chris! Get a move on!”

“Hang on, hang on,” dad laughs as he climbs the stairs to our flat, wheezing under the weight of his cargo. “Hi Nikki, Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, dad!” I reply, giving my father what would’ve been a hug were it not for the toddler I’m carrying and the plate full of food my father’s carrying. “Where’s Sarah?”

“In the kitchen… Isn’t she?” I ask, before frowning in confusion when I glance into the kitchen and my fiancée is nowhere to be found. “…Probably on the toilet? I dunno.”

“Well, umm, I’ll just get the rest of the stuff up,” dad says as I hand my sister back to my mother and head to the bathroom, which I’m not surprised to find locked.

“Sarah?” I ask as I gently knock on the door. “You in there?”

“Just- just give me a minute,” my fiancée replies in a very small-sounding voice.

“Sarah?” I ask again. “Are- are you okay?” I frown in confusion as the bathroom door unlocks, and I slowly step inside the cramped room, before sighing sadly as I see Sarah’s face- or rather, her mascara, which has become streaked from her tears. Without saying a word, I give my fiancée a long, tight hug, allowing her to sniffle on my shoulder until she’s able to take several deep breaths to calm herself down.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sarah whispers.

“Don’t. Ever. Be sorry,” I say, giving Sarah another cuddle from behind as she repairs her make-up. “God knows how many times I’ve been so stressed I needed a good cry…”

“Hormones, eh?” Sarah says, making me laugh.

“I wouldn’t trade my oestrogen for ANYTHING,” I say with a giggle. “And don’t panic about today. Mum’s probably already taken over in the kitchen.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Sarah sighs, before taking a deep breath. “Oh well. Can’t hide in here all day, got to be an adult and face the music…” What ‘music’? I think to myself, before following Sarah back into the main area of the flat, where she’s greeted with long hugs from my mother and my father.

As predicted, mum has indeed taken charge in the kitchen, and while Sarah makes a token effort to reassert herself, I can tell deep down that she’s actually relieved to have had some of the pressure taken off her shoulders. Beverly arrives not long afterward and assists me, Sarah and mum in the kitchen whilst dad watches TV with Jenny, and before long, Sarah looks to have completely relaxed… Though when her phones bleeps to inform her of a new text message, I can see the stress returning to her face.

“Ugh,” Sarah moans as she reads her new text. “WHY did I invite them again?”

“Because you were desperate to see your brother and sister over Christmas, and this was the only opportunity we’d get,” I remind my fiancée, who sighs and nods in response. “We should get changed…” Sarah smiles as she follows me into our bedroom, where we exchange our slouchy denim skirts and hoodies for posh dresses.

Sarah’s dress is a form-fitting, long-sleeved knee length black dress, whilst mine is a long, flowing long-sleeved dark purple dress, which is low cut enough to show just the tiniest bit of cleavage. Even though we’re not leaving our flat, we both pull on high heels with our dresses and tie our hair into fancy updos- there’s no point in wearing dresses this smart if we’re going to pad around in stocking feet with our hair loose, after all.

“Are you okay?” I whisper to Sarah as she finishes tying her long brown hair.

“I’ll be fine,” Sarah replies.

“…But are you okay NOW?” I ask. “You know I hate seeing you like this…”

“I know,” Sarah whispers as we gently link fingers. “Thank you, thank you so much… I don’t know that I could’ve done any of this without you. I don’t think I could’ve done ANYTHING without you.”

“So let’s get out there and show the dragon who’s REALLY boss,” I say with a confident grin. “She’s going to be outnumbered 6-1, you know.”

“SIX to one?” Sarah laughs. “So you’re expecting Jenny to side against her as well?”

“You know how much she adores you,” I laugh as we emerge from our bedroom hand-in-hand to happy sighs from both our mothers and a proud smile from my father.

“Aww, you two look SO beautiful,” mum gasps, looking almost like she’s going to burst into tears herself. “Doesn’t your sister look beautiful, Jenny?” I have to blink back tears of my own as Jenny giggles and nods at mum’s prompting.

“Your father will be so proud of you, the beautiful young woman you’ve become,” Beverly says to Sarah, who is so overcome with emotion that she can’t even speak to respond, instead accepting a long, tight hug from her mother.

The emotional moment only lasts a few seconds, though, before a knock comes from the door that puts even our parents on edge.

“Showtime,” I whisper, gripping Sarah’s hand for support as we open the door to be confronted by the smiling face of Sarah’s father and the scowling face of his wife.

“Merry Christmas!” Sarah says, giving her father a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas, Sarah!” Robert laughs. “Dinner smells delicious!”

“Thanks!” Sarah laughs, before her face suddenly sobers. “Hello, Diane.”

“Hello Sarah, Nicola,” Diane says, making me bristle at the use of my full name.

“Hi Diane,” I say. “Umm, merry Christmas…”

“Merry Christmas,” Diane whispers, before stepping to the side and allowing her two children to step forward- something that brings wide grins to both my face and my fiancée’s face.

“Hey Karl!” Sarah squeaks, giving her younger brother a hug. “Hey Kezzie! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Sarah!” Kerrie replies, giving Sarah a long, tight hug. “Do you like my new dress?”

“Very pretty!” Sarah giggles, bring a wide grin to her ten year old sister’s face. “You look very smart too, Karl, are those clothes gifts you got today?”

“Umm, yeah,” the fourteen year boy replies as he follows his sister and his parents into the flat, which is becoming very cramped with ten people in it. I can’t help but wince as Diane sits down next to Beverly- the only seat available- causing both women to immediately scowl.

“You both got everything you wanted for Christmas, then?” I ask the two children, who both nod and smile.

“Umm, yeah,” Karl repeats in a voice that’s so nervous he sounds almost out of breath.

“You two play with your phones,” Diane orders her children, regarding me with a look of barely-concealed contempt that takes me by surprise- while we’ve never exactly been friends, we’ve been getting on a lot better recently than in the past. “What is there to drink, please?” Good question, I think to myself.

“We’ve just opened a bottle of white,” mum says from behind the kitchen counter.

“I’ll have a glass, please,” Diane says, making no effort to get up from her seat and forcing me to waitress her drink to her. “Are you making your mother do all the cooking today, then?”

“She’s just helping out here and there,” I say, making a mental note to apologise to mum later on for saying that. “In fact, I think the veg need my attention…” I try to disguise my grimace as I join Sarah and my mother in the cramped kitchen area.

“Ugh, she didn’t waste any time,” Sarah quietly spits.

“Well look on the bright side: at least she won’t want to stick around long,” I whisper. “As much as I love being a waitress in my own flat.”

“And on that note,” mum says, handing me two glasses of cola, “take these out to Sarah’s brother and sister.”

“Yes ma’am,” I sarcastically reply, earning a gentle smack on the back of the head from my mother that makes me giggle as I head back to our cramped living room.

“Thank you, Nikki,” Kerrie politely says as I hand her her drink.

“You’re very welcome, miss!” I tease, earning a giggle from Kerrie and, much to my surprise, a smile from Diane. Though whether or not she’s only pleased that I’m bowing and scraping to her daughter is anyone’s guess…

“Thanks,” Karl mumbles as I bend down and hand him his drink, though as I get closer to him, I become more and more aware that his breathing is shallow and rapid and his eyes have gone wide… And are fixed straight on my cleavage.

“Umm, I, um-“ I stammer as I quickly stand up. Unsurprisingly, Diane’s smile has been replaced by a VERY angry scowl. “Does anyone else want anything to drink?” I breathe a sigh of relief as everyone shakes their heads, before hurrying into the kitchen, trying to stealthily adjust my bra and my dress to show less cleavage as I go.

“…And these,” mum says, placing a tray of crisps and other nibbles in front of me.

“Umm, it’d probably be best if Sarah took those out,” I say, earning quizzical looks from both my mother and my fiancée.

“Umm, why, exactly?” Sarah asks. “I’m kinda busy in here.”

“Your brother-“ I whisper in as quiet a voice I can manage. “Your brother just REALLY ogled my breasts.”

“…Ah,” Sarah grimaces. “But I’m kinda- kinda up to my elbows here, so’s your mum…”

“I’ll- I’ll just drop off the tray and run,” I whisper, grabbing the tray and forcing a smile on my face as I return to the living room with the snacks.

“Don’t spoil your appetite, you two!” Robert teases his children as I hold the tray in front of Kerrie, who eagerly takes a handful of crisps. Much to my dismay, before I can offer the tray to Karl, he reaches across his sister to get at some snacks, making me wince as I feel his elbow ever so gently brush past my breast.

This is far from the first time I’ve been ogled, or even ‘touched’ like this. It happens a lot in clubs, and while it’s never pleasant, at least there, I can always avoid the oglers and the ‘touchers’, or just leave the club altogether. Today… Not an option.

“I’ll, umm, I’ll put the snacks on the table,” I mumble. “Just help yourselves.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice!” Dad laughs as he grabs a handful of crisps. “So, Karl, you on any sports teams at school?”

“Umm,” Karl says, clearly still distracted by my presence.

“Karl’s on the cricket team,” Diane says. “They recently won an inter-school competition.”

“Nikki was on the swimming team when she was at school,” dad says with pride.

“I never finished any races higher than fifth,” I retort. “Only joined the team as it’d give me an excuse to shave my le… Umm, does anyone want their drinks topping up?”

“Please,” Diane says with an angry scowl. “How long will dinner be?” Another good question, I think to myself.

“Just another twenty minutes,” mum says. “The veg is taking a bit longer than expected.” Way to rub it in, mum…

“Sarah was on her school’s gymnastics team,” Beverly says, trying to lessen the obvious tension in the room.

“Kerrie does gymnastics too,” Diane hastily retorts. “You like that Claudia girl that was on Strictly this year, don’t you, Kerrie?”

“But I also like Sarah!” Kerrie says, nodding enthusiastically.

“But that Claudia girl is a professional,” Diane says smugly, making Beverly frown. “Kerrie’s coach has been VERY impressed with her!”

“All of my kids got their dad’s sporting genes,” Robert says, clearly sensing the tension between the two mothers. Unfortunately, all the proud father manages to do is create an awkward silence.

“What time’s the Queen’s speech on?” Dad asks, leading to mum and me rolling our eyes.

“3pm, dad, same as it is every year,” I sigh as dad laughs. “It’s kind-of a family tradition, every year dad laughs his head off at asking the same idiotic questions over and over.”

“I thought it was funny,” Robert shrugs. “I think every family has some kind of Christmas tradition.”

“Every year, my father would always make little origami animals out of the tubes you get from inside Christmas crackers,” Beverly says with a nostalgic look in her eye.

“Yes, well it doesn’t need to be a competition,” Diane says, bringing a look of fury to Beverly’s face that I didn’t think she was capable of. A glance over at the kitchen, and the look of terror in Sarah's eyes, tells me that this is a look Sarah's all too familiar with, and one Beverly very, very rarely uses.

"Speaking of crackers," I say, retrieving a box of the party treats from a shelf. "As lunch will be later, why not pull these now, rather than after lunch?"

"Suits me," Robert says with a smile. "Chris?" Dad smiles as he and Sarah's father pull the first cracker, with dad 'winning'.

"Looks like I've pulled," dad says with a laugh, before withering as Diane scowls at his off-colour joke. After putting on the paper hat inside the cracker (upside-down, of course), dad reaches inside the tube and pulls out the small slip of paper inside.

"What do you get if you cross Santa with a duck?" Dad asks in a monotonous, deadpan voice. "A Christmas quacker." Naturally, the joke itself doesn't get any laughs- not even from the children- but I'm forced to smirk at the awkward silence it caused. This 'party' might just have turned around...

"That wasn't very funny," Diane complains, making me grimace and Sarah frown.

"They're not meant to be funny, that's the point," Beverly says, and the look in Sarah's eyes has quickly changed from terror to utter frustration at her mother, usually the biggest calming influence in any situation, becoming one of the biggest instigators.

"Who wants to pull next?" I ask, before grimacing as Karl's hand shoots up. I make a point of keeping my back straight and vertical as I hand Karl- who's sat on the floor- his cracker, in an attempt to make sure he neither sees nor touches anything.

"Nikki, do you want to pull with me?" Karl asks, making me inwardly scream with frustration as Diane's face gets darker and darker and Sarah's face gets more and more exasperated.

"Wouldn't you rather pull with your sister?" I ask, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief as Kerrie reaches for the other end of his cracker. Naturally, all throughout the talk of 'pulling', dad has been sniggering like a schoolboy, though angry glares from myself and my mother soon put a stop to that.

"Lunch is served!" Mum loudly announces, and this time, my sigh of relief is very much outward as I head into the kitchen to plate up the meal, whilst mum busies herself feeding Jenny her dinner.

"Are we eating on our laps?" Diane asks as I hand her her plate first (in a likely vain attempt to get her to shut up).

"If you have any suggestions on how to get a table for ten into here, I'm all ears," I say, handing the middle-aged woman a napkin to put underneath her plate. Thankfully, she doesn't seem to have anything to say about the food, eagerly tucking in as I hand Beverly and dad their plates. When I turn around to head back to the kitchen, though, I jump with shock when I find Karl stood directly in front of me.

"Do- do you need a hand?" The fourteen year old boy asks as I try yet again not to scream in frustration.

"Umm, no, I'm okay, thanks, you sit down," I say to the boy, who insists nonetheless on following me to the kitchen counter where Sarah is dishing up the food.

"I, um, I follow you on Instagram," Karl says nervously as he grabs a plate of food.

"Umm, thanks," I laugh. "I'll follow you back, I guess, what your username?"

"Umm, I'm not actually on it," Karl says. "I just look at your page sometimes..." O-kay, I think to myself. This has officially gone from awkward to creepy...

"Karl," Sarah says, breaking the tension. "Give this to Kerrie, then come back for a plate of your own, okay?"

"Umm, okay," Karl says, before taking a plate of food over to where his sister is sat.

"Jesus H Christ," I whisper to Sarah, who looks almost like she's going to hyperventilate herself.

"Let's just eat," my fiancée says. "Then it'll be done, we can sit back and try to relax, okay?"

"Assuming your brother's finished trying to grope me," I hiss.

"...Really?" Sarah asks. "You don't know what it's like to be a hormonal fourteen year old boy? I remember there were a few times when your hands-"

"Yes, yes, okay, let's eat," I sigh as Sarah hands her father his dinner, with myself, my fiancée and my mother taking the final three plates.

Thankfully, whilst people are eating, they are at least unable to complain, and by the time everyone has gorged themselves not only on the meal, but on Christmas pudding and cake as well, we're all too stuffed to even think about starting an argument.

"We'll stay for the Queen's speech," Robert says as he and dad help to clear away the plates. "Then I think we'd better make a move, I dread to think what the M1 will be like if we leave it too late."

"Aww," Kerrie moans, making Sarah and I smile genuinely for the first time since everyone's arrival.

"You want to get home to play with your new computer, don't you?" Diane asks Kerrie, who pouts and nods.

"Well, it's been great seeing you," Sarah says, clearly exhausted despite the fact that it's not even 3pm yet.

"I will admit," Diane says, "I did enjoy today more than I thought I would."

"...Same here," Sarah whispers, sharing a genuine smile with her stepmother for what might be the first time ever. "Karl, if you still want to make yourself useful, do you want to help load the dishwasher?" I smile smugly as the teenaged boy reluctantly follows his father and my father into the kitchen, where they begin the tedious task of washing the mountain of cutlery and crockery used today.

"That's another tradition from our family," mum says proudly as she sits down with Jenny squirming in her lap. "At Christmas, the women do the cooking, whilst the men do the washing-up."

"And it's why I'm grateful that Nikki & Sarah have rich friends who can afford to buy them a dishwasher!" Dad laughs from the kitchen.

"I might have to adopt that tradition for our family," Diane says with a smug grin that for once, doesn't make me want to kill her. "And I did wonder how two young women who didn't earn a lot were able to afford such expensive appliances. This TV, for example- was that one of your millionaire friends, Nikki?" I smile as I try not to grind my teeth- of all the things in the flat she could've picked up on...

"Actually, I bought it for them," Beverly says with a smug grin that immediately takes the wind out of Diane's sails. "Everybody has to have a TV, after all."

"A 40 inch curved LED TV?" Diane asks.

"I make a lot of money," Beverly shrugs as Diane's frown gets deeper and deeper and I can feel Sarah starting to tense up again. "I wanted to treat my daughter and future daughter-in-law."

"...It is a great TV," I mumble. Please drop it, I think to myself.

"Did you and Robert get the girls anything for their flat?" Beverly asks, and I have to bite my tongue just as hard as Sarah is undoubtedly biting hers.

"I think the Queen's Speech is about to start," Sarah announces, despite it still being only 2:50pm. Nonetheless, Sarah switches on the TV, which thankfully fills the room with noise and prevents any further arguments from starting. Just twenty more minutes... I think to myself.

At exactly 3 o'clock, the familiar strains of the national anthem plays, and despite being a proud Brit, I have never been happier to hear 'God Save the Queen'. I finally fully relax as the familiar face of Queen Elizabeth II appears on the screen and prepares to speak, but before she can say a single word, my heart sinks as the TV- along with every other electronic device in our flat- suddenly clicks off.

"We were so close," I hear Sarah whisper in a voice full of despair.

"It's probably just a power cut," dad says, immediately trying to take charge of the situation. "Where's your fuse box?"

"Umm..." Sarah says, clearly on the verge of panic.

"Don't you even know where your fuse box is?" Diane sneers, and I feel my nails begin to cut into my palms as my hands clench into fists.

"It's in the cupboard next to the bathroom," I say, barely able to keep my own voice from becoming a sneer.

"Which Sarah DOES know," Beverly says firmly.

"Of course she does," Diane says with a smug look that's beginning to make even her children uncomfortable.

"I think we should probably take our leave before it gets too dark," Robert announces, silencing the two middle-aged women. "We can watch the Queen's speech at home."

"That's probably a good idea," Beverly says. "It was good seeing you again Robert, Karl, Kerrie. Drive safely."

"Thank you for a wonderful meal," Robert says, giving Sarah a gentle, comforting hug that only worsens Diane's scowl. "Thank you for our wonderful presents, and thank you for being a wonderful daughter. I am so, so proud of you, Sarah."

"Thank you," Sarah sniffles as we head down to the street outside to see her father and his family off, with me making sure to keep Sarah between myself and her brother until he's safely on the back seat of their car. Once they’ve disappeared out of sight, I turn to my fiancée, who is barely holding in her emotions.

"Are- are you okay?" I whisper.

"No," Sarah blubs, tears flowing freely from her eyes as I wrap her in a tight hug and lead her back into our still-powerless apartment, where she runs straight into our bedroom, not stopping to talk to anyone on the way.

"Sarah's..." I say quietly. "...Not feeling well. And to be honest, I'm not feeling great either." I let out a light chuckle and a couple of tears as mum immediately rushes over to me and gives me a tight, motherly hug.

"It wasn't THAT bad," mum eventually says after I've had the chance to recompose myself.

"No, it was that bad," Beverly says in a blunt voice that's full of shame. "And I'm part of the reason why. Nikki, you and Sarah have nothing to be ashamed about today. You- and your parents- showed yourself to be the REAL adults. It was myself and that woman who behaved like petulant teenagers."

"I think- I think your daughter needs to hear that too," mum whispers, making Beverly's cheeks flush.

"Of course," Beverly says, heading towards the bedroom, and my heart breaks as the middle-aged woman open the doors and I hear the unmistakable sound of Sarah crying her eyes out.

I stand outside the room for ten minutes, fidgeting from side to side, waiting for Beverly- or better yet, Sarah- to come out. Of course, it IS my bedroom too, so I could barge in, but right now, Sarah needs her mum, whether she wants to admit it or not. And as much as I want to assert my independence... I really needed the hug my mum gave me just now. Without her, I wouldn't be the independent, popular 'Nikki', I'd almost certainly be the miserable, loser 'Nick'.

Sure, 'Nikki' isn't perfect. I've made mistakes, I've bitten off more than I could chew at times, but I've always gone into every day with a smile on my face, and more importantly, lipstick on my smile. This week may have left me and Sarah a nervous wreck, but it was nothing compared to coming out to my parents three and a half years ago. If I could do that, then I can do anything.

It's actually my first coming out that I'm thinking of when the bedroom door opens and Beverly walks out, with Sarah- whose make-up has been virtually destroyed- following her. After exchanging a long, silent hug with her mother, Sarah gently takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom.

"Are you feeling any better?" I ask the beautiful young woman, who melts my heart when she smiles and nods.

"A little," Sarah whispers. "Mum, she- she apologised to me. SHE actually apologised to ME! I honestly never thought I'd ever see that... Growing up, she was this infallible ultra-wise woman... Guess nobody's perfect, heh."

"You are," I whisper, gently stroking Sarah's soft cheek.

"But I'm not, though," Sarah mumbles, her cheeks flushing with shame. "I spent the whole day panicking about the meal, panicking about mum and Diane... You had to deal with all that, and worse yet, you had to deal with me too."

"I didn't have to 'deal' with you," I laugh. "I LOVE you."

"And I adore you," Sarah says. "But sometimes... Sometimes I'm a burden to you. And I'm sorry."

"You're NOT a burden and you have NOTHING to be sorry about," I say. "I'd follow you into hell, you know that."

"...Today, you did," Sarah laughs, making me giggle. "And I feel guilty... I wanted our relationship to be a partnership, you know? But every time you have to comfort me like this... I feel like I'm forcing you to be 'the boy' in the relationship." I bite my tongue as Sarah speaks- whilst she'll believe me if I say I'll follow her into hell, she knows full well that there is one line I won't cross- or rather, re-cross.

"I don't mind," I whisper, though my fiancée immediately senses my reluctance.

"You should," Sarah sighs. "You are feminine and girly and gorgeous, and should never be made to feel otherwise. EVER. Especially not on my account."

"Sarah, I have a vagina," I say, making my fiancée giggle. "I have breasts. I have long hair, a narrow waist and smooth, hairless skin. My blood is saturated with oestrogen. And you can hear the pitch of my voice. Trust me, I feel feminine, girly and gorgeous."

"You and I both know that's not all there is to it," Sarah whispers. "Nikki... Ugh. I am SO lucky to have you. And don't say you're lucky to have me. You would make ANYONE the perfect wife. From now on, I'll never take you for granted again, I promise."

"...I love you," I whisper as I wipe tears from both eyes.

"I love you too," Sarah whispers, before we exchange a long, tender kiss that only ends when our bedroom light blinks back into life."

"Power's back on," I mumble. "We, um, we should get out there... It's our place, we ARE the hosts, should, you know, 'step up'..."

"Yeah," Sarah says with a grin, before taking my hand in hers and heading back to the living room, where mum, dad and Beverly are waiting with sympathetic smiles.

"Hi everyone," I say. "Sorry today didn't go exactly according to plan."

"Well, it'll be a Christmas we'll never forget," dad says with a smirk. "And you two have nothing to be sorry about. You both did brilliantly today. Very... Very grown-up. Both of you."

"Thanks, Chris," Sarah laughs.

"Whilst you were in your room, your phone rang," Beverly says, handing Sarah her mobile. "I recognised the number immediately, it was your father."

"D-dad?" Sarah asks as she listens to the voicemail message that was left for her, which only brings more tears to her eyes.

"What- what did he say?" I ask as Sarah tosses her phone back onto the counter. "Umm, if it's private, you don't-"

"He wanted to apologise," Sarah says. "On Diane's behalf, I mean. He felt guilty for what happened, and especially wanted to apologise to you, Nikki."

"M-me?" I reply.

"It's your flat too," Sarah says. "This was as much your day as it was mine. And when we're married, he'll be as much your family as he is mine. He wanted to tell you that he'd be proud to call you his daughter-in-law."

"Oh my god," I whisper as tears flow from my eyes again, further ruining my already-damaged make-up.

"As would I," Beverly says, giving me a tight, motherly hug just as she has for Sarah today, whilst my mum hugs my fiancée.

My family- all of it, including Beverly- sticks around until late evening, when my parents return home to put Jenny to bed and Beverly leaves for her house after apologising for her behaviour one more time. After they leave, Sarah and I divide our attention between the television and tidying up our flat, before getting a much-needed early night. Naturally, sex is the last thing on our minds after today, but we end the night falling asleep in each other's arms, feeling perfectly content, happy and loved.

I'm momentarily confused when I wake up on Boxing Day morning and find myself alone in my bed, though a quick glance at my phone reveals a new notification- a text message from Sarah.

"Seriously?" I think to myself as I read the message. "Thought we WEREN'T doing the sales this year..."

'Get showered and see me in the living room ASAP,' the message reads, making me frown with confusion.

After showering- alone, for the first time in a while- and drying and brushing my hair, I pull on my fluffy pink dressing gown and head through to the living room, where I let out a tired, happy laugh.

"Good morning," Sarah says with a knowing grin on her face, and a very old, very worn dark purple turtleneck sweater and wraparound tartan miniskirt on her body.

"This is 2016 and not 2011, right?" I ask as I give my fiancée a kiss. Sarah's outfit- when coupled with the shiny black tights and knackered ugg boots she's wearing, anyway- was my absolute favourite outfit of hers, back when 'Nikki' was just a hobby.

"Nope," Sarah says smugly. "As of today, it is the year 2011, I'm fifteen years old and you're fourteen, and we're going to spend the whole day having fun, because that's what teenagers are supposed to do."

"Umm... We DO have fun," I laugh as I wrap my hands around Sarah's waist. "Lots of it, remember?"

"Not while we're underage, we don't," Sarah says, removing my hands before letting out a long, tired sigh. "And you deserve to be treated, Nikki. I remember what we talked about a few days ago, back when 'Nikki' was just a hobby... I really enjoyed those days, and a part of me- a part of me just wants to have fun like we did back then, you know?"

"'Fun' back then was dressing up," I retort. "I do that 24/7."

"Does that mean you enjoy it any less?" Sarah asks, making me giggle.

"...No," I laugh. "If anything, I enjoy it even more, knowing that it never has to end..."

"...And never will," Sarah says softly. "So today, for one day only, we're going back to 2011 and we're going to have FUN. No bills, no adult responsibilities, no obligations. Just you and me, having the type of fun that brought us together in the first place."

"Sounds perfect," I whisper.

"Good," Sarah says with a smug grin. "Because this isn't the only old outfit I've got..." I laugh as Sarah reaches into one of our still-packed boxes and pulls out the same outfit I wore five years ago, when Sarah herself was wearing what she's wearing now. Well, I say 'outfit' when in reality, it's not something you'd wear out on the street.

"Oh my god, you still have that?" I ask as Sarah holds up a long-sleeved leotard made out of a shiny purple fabric with silver detailing.

"It's not actually the same one," Sarah grimaces. "I kinda had to give that back to the school. I made this a few months ago, just in case I needed it for a 'special occasion'... And this certainly qualifies!" I laugh as I take the leotard and start to remove my dressing gown, only for Sarah to stop me. "Whoa, missy! Are you, a fourteen year old, really going to get naked in front of me, a fifteen year old?"

"...Sorry," I mumble as I'm barely able to keep a straight face.

"Go into the bedroom and change into a thong and a bra," Sarah orders. "And pull on some clear tights, too."

"Yes, miss!" I giggle as I hurry through to the bedroom, quickly changing into the underwear as ordered, before fixing my make-up and repainting my nails the same pink colour they were when I first wore the leotard five years ago.

I giggle as I put the bottle of nail polish back in my dresser- there, next to my other polishes, is a voluminous scrunchie in the same purple colour as the leotard. After tying my hair into a high ponytail, I return to the living room, where Sarah is stood with the leotard in her hands, bunched up and ready for me to step into.

Naturally, I savour every sensation the clingy garment provides as Sarah stretches and smoothes it over my body. I've worn countless leotards over the last five years, but this one- or rather, the original version of this one- remains the first one I ever wore, and will always have a special place in my heart... Even if it isn't quite as comfortable as it was five years ago.

"How, exactly, can this be tighter than it was BEFORE my operation?" I ask as I fidget, trying to get the leotard to stop 'pinching'. "Thank god for the tights, otherwise I'd have a front wedgie..."

"Char-ming!" Sarah giggles. "And to answer your question, I made it to fit my body. You're taller than me, so it has to stretch more... I dunno, I thought you'd appreciate it, heh. Guess you really ARE a girl after all!" Sarah laughs even harder as I pose for her, placing one hand on my hip and pouting for all I'm worth.

"Gorgeous and girly!" Sarah laughs as she snaps me with her phone.

"Don't upload that to your Instagram, whatever you do!" I say. "Don't need your brother getting any more 'excited'..."

"Dad's promised to have words with him as well," Sarah says as she attaches the pictures she took to a text message and sends them to me. "I think he's really looking forward to having you in his family... Just like I can't wait to be a part of yours."

"You ARE a part of my family," I say as I cross my arms and fidget yet again in my leotard. "...Well?"

"...'Well'?" Sarah asks, before sighing and laughing. "Yes, yes I've got another one for myself." I giggle excitedly as Sarah strips down to her own bra and thong, before pulling on a leotard that's identical to my own and posing for me as I photograph her.

After sending the photo's to Sarah's phone, I toss my phone aside and wrap my arms around Sarah's lycra-clad body, kissing her deeply as our leotards squeak as they rub together.

"I love you so much," I whisper. "This is perfect. Today is perfect. YOU are perfect."

"No I'm not," Sarah sighs. "But I'm okay with that, as long as you are."

"You even need to ask?" I laugh, before kissing Sarah again. "So... Are we going to do some gymnastics or what? Three and a half years of ballet has made me a lot better than I was last time..."

"I thought you were complaining that your leotard was too tight?" Sarah retorts.

"Oh, it is," I say. "Especially on the crotch. Feel for yourself if you don't believe me."

"We're underage, remember?" Sarah teases.

"I won't tell if you won't," I whisper as I press my hand into Sarah's most sensitive area, encouraging her to reciprocate as we collapse backward onto our sofa, our lycra-clad bodies locked in an embrace of pure lust...

Jamie was right. Just because we're now independent, it doesn't mean we should have less fun- it means we should have more, and nothing has ever been as much fun as dressing up with Sarah. With life going so fast, sometimes it's nice to slow things down and enjoy the little things in life- or the big things, for that matter, and to me, nothing is bigger than the love I have for the woman who means everything to me.

I love being a woman, and I love Sarah, and she loves me. Whether I'm fourteen, or nineteen, or even ninety, that will never change. Bills will come and go, and careers and university studies will come and go, and the type of fun we have will come and go, but some things are forever.

Girl love forever, and girl life forever!