Becca contemplates her new roommate, addresses her growing "To Do" list, takes on still MORE responsibility, and sorts out problems big and small -- all before noon on a Sunday morning. Not bad for a teenaged superhero, hmm?

The morning light was in my eyes as I woke up. As I turned over to escape it, my hair moved around my head and I felt my chest shift as I rolled. I smiled in spite of myself. Still a girl, I thought happily. Still and always a girl.

Opening my eyes, I noticed how dark the room had suddenly become. I remembered that my bed had acquired an upper bunk, and a roommate to go with it. Soft high-pitched snores drifting down from above made me smile. Heather had looked perfect in that red dress, and her uninhibited pleasure when she twirled in front of the mirror had taken my mind off of the latest addition to my "To Do" list. Her happiness about the dress ... and for everything else about her new life ... had raised my spirits as well, and we both went to bed feeling comfortable about sharing our space, and our lives.

But as I lay there in my bed that morning, wrapped in my quilt against the unexpected October chill, I stared at the bedroom wall and thought again about my surprising conversation with the Arbiters in the bathroom the night before.

Apparently, my impassioned defense earlier that day had managed to get Leander off the hook ... sort of. But in the process, I had managed to get myself hooked instead. Now, in order to end Leander's eternal punishment, I needed to come up with a way to rehabilitate her -- to ensure that she would learn why what she had done was wrong and what it meant to be truly human.

How do I manage to keep digging myself deeper? I sighed. It's only been three days since I woke up as Becca, and every time I turn around there's something else I need to do. Someone else I need to save. When did responsibilities start breeding like clothes hangers?

Still wrapped in my quilt, I struggled out of bed and stood up, being careful not to bang my head on the upper bunk. Heather snored again, and I turned to see her, still sleeping peacefully. Her mouth was slightly open and her hair tousled, but she looked oddly at peace ... content in her slumber. I smiled. At least I don't have to worry about Heather anymore, I thought. I'm glad she doesn't want to go back to being Hunter. I never thought she'd take so easily to being a girl. I guess being loved and cared for is better than being beaten and despised. I shook my head with a small smile. Who'dah thunk it?

I threw the quilt back on the bed, my nipples rising in the morning chill through the thin fabric of my nightgown. Moving carefully around the stacks of stuff, both Heather's and mine, I made my way to my side of the closet and put on my robe. I pulled my hair out of the back, tied the belt tight around my waist, and felt a small spark of happiness at the way it wrapped around my new curves. Opening the door as quietly as I could, I slipped into the hall.

Silence was my only companion. Sunday mornings were still much as they were when I was Jack. Everyone slept as late as they could get away with, except for me of course. Apparently, even as Becca, I still woke early on Sundays. I wandered down the hall to the empty kitchen. It was perfectly clean from the night before -- dishes washed and put away, everything wiped clean. She probably couldn't sleep unless everything was just right, I thought, remembering. Same old Carolyn.

I wandered forward slowly, lost in thoughts of a few weeks ago. My mind drifted back to before everything changed. As I walked, Becca's body reasserted itself -- delicate steps in my bare feet, hips and chest swaying in counterpoint, one hand moving up to brush a strand of hair from my cheek. I stared at the chair that used to be mine, and felt a hint of conflict start to rise within. That's Daddy's chair, I thought suddenly. That's where Daddy used to sit.

Suddenly, everything blurred a little as Jack's past rubbed against Becca's, and her memories rose in an emotional wave that washed away the-me-that-was and left Becca defenseless. A surprising grief seemed to well up inside me.

Surprising because I was mourning myself.

I remembered Sunday mornings with Dad when we'd dress and slip out of the house very early to grab breakfast at a nearby diner, just the two of us. We'd talk and joke around, and I knew I'd always have him there, to help me when I needed it. To talk to me like a person instead of a child. My lip started quivering, and my eyes became red with barely suppressed tears. I missed our times together, and I knew that they were gone forever.

And a single sob managed to escape before I choked it back.

A part of me cried out, unheard. But you ARE Dad ... well, I was Dad ... I mean, Dad was me, until all this got started. Don't cry, Becca, I'm right here! I'm YOU! But it was like a tiny wall of sand trying to hold back the ocean of her grief. I opened my mouth to just let it out --

-- and I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around me. There was that familiar feeling of being surrounded by love, melting into me, cradling and kissing me, and I knew everything would be okay.

"Ssssssh, baby," Mom said softly, hugging me to her, holding me from behind. "I miss him, too. Every day."

As we stood there, I felt the grief subside, just a little. Jack's ... my ... memories started coming forward once again. Even so, the tears still fell. I stayed in her arms and leaned back into her, the best hug I could manage without turning around. It just felt so good. She kissed the back of my head.

When I spoke, my voice shook. "How ... how did you know I was ...?"

I felt Carolyn shrug, and I could hear the tearful smile in her voice. "Because I was, too. Grief sneaks up on me sometimes, when I'm not really thinking about it. This morning I woke up, and his side of the bed was empty, and I thought, 'Oh, he's out to breakfast with Becca.' Then I realized he wasn't coming back, and I felt the awful hole he left in my soul when he died, and I just couldn't stand being in that bed another minute without him beside me. When I came down the hall, I saw you standing here. I heard you sob, and I knew you were missing him, too."

I nodded. "I was thinking about the special breakfasts we used to have, on Sunday mornings when everyone else slept in, and I just started crying." I smiled, just a little. "I guess it just snuck up on me, too."

My own sadness started to slip away, and then I remembered why Jack was dead. Carolyn's loss was all my fault. I had hurt my best girl, the love of my life, and my children, because I made a stupid, selfish choice. I had tried to play mind games with a demon in a supermarket parking lot.

The reason Carolyn didn't have Jack around anymore was because of my own stupidity just a few weeks back. I hurt them all, I thought savagely, and my tears began again. Being Becca and seeing my new life through her eyes had made it easier for me to ignore what I had done as Jack. I knew I had to get past it eventually, or I'd never be able to do my job. But what I had done still hurt when I thought about it, and Carolyn's grief made it hurt even more.

I turned around, put my arms around her, and hugged her tight.

"Mom, I'm so sorry. It must be a thousand times worse for you, losing Dad!"

She gave me a squeeze. "It's not that simple, Becca. Loss never is. I had your father in my life for longer than you've been alive, and I loved him very much. He was my other half, and I will always miss him. But I know what he meant to you, and Jeremy, and Emma. I know you all loved him, too, and I know how much it hurts for him to be gone with so much of your growing up still to do."

Carolyn held me at arm's length and looked in my eyes. "But he wouldn't want us to dwell on what we've lost, or live in the past. He'd want us to embrace what we have. We still have each other, baby. All of us, and now Heather ... we're all still here. And together." I nodded slowly, with a little smile of my own, and hugged her again.

Damn, I thought, holding her tight. She's right. I can't keep kicking myself for a mistake I made in another life -- especially since she forgave me the morning it happened. I need to live my new life, and leave the past ... in the past. With an effort, I let go of my guilt and sadness and chose to embrace my Mom, and my new life as Becca.

I would be the best daughter I could for the woman I loved.

My former wife looked around. "So ... we're the only two up?"

I looked at her, not quite sure where this was heading. "That's right, Mom."

She smiled, and said, "I guess that means we need to start a new tradition, then!" Turning me around, Carolyn gave me a little push down the hall. "Go get dressed, Becca. I'll meet you out here in five minutes."

Suddenly I understood, and threw her a smile over my shoulder as I raced back to the bedroom.

For the record, breakfast at the diner with Mom was almost as much fun as it was with Dad -- just different in a thousand little ways that made it special.

Now if I could just figure out how Becca used to have breakfast every Sunday with Jack, when both Becca and Jack ... were me. I sighed. My personal two-for-one deal remained a mystery I couldn't solve on my own -- especially when the people who knew how I pulled off that trick didn't seem to want to tell me.

When we came back, Mom gave me a big hug and headed back to her bedroom. She really wanted a long hot leisurely Sunday morning bath, and I really needed to think. I wandered into the living room, still quiet thanks to the Barnes contingent of Sunday morning slug-a-beds. I was wearing jeans for the first time since becoming Becca, along with a pale blue long-sleeved tee with a scoop neck, a dark blue zippered hoodie and a pair of sneakers. My hair was back in a loose ponytail, held with a dark blue scrunchy.

I kicked off the footwear and curled up on the couch to consider my options. The jeans gently hugged every curve and set off a small conflict in the back of my brain. The Jack I used to be thought they seemed tight, while the Becca I had become liked the way they wrapped themselves around her hips -- almost like they were made for her. I let Becca remember how she found these jeans shopping with Amy, how well they fit right off the shelf, and how happy she was with how they made her look. It made me smile.

The Jack in me admitted defeat. Let's face it, they were damn hot, and he knew it. I knew it, too. I stretched my legs out, twisted my hips, and smiled. They really did feel okay, and looked terrific.

I pulled myself back into a ball, arms wrapped around my legs, and chewed my lower lip as I considered my latest problem.

How could I rehabilitate Leander? I mused. Could it even be done, considering how much pain she'd been through in the past five hundred years? The punishment was handed down and enforced by the Arbiters, but maybe she saw me as some kind of extension of their judgment, their cruelty. Several strands of copper hair had escaped my ponytail, and I wrapped them around my index finger and twirled them gently as I thought.

Or maybe Leander didn't connect me to them at all. After all, she came to me to intercede for her. Did she know something I didn't? Did she know I could stand up for her?

Come to think of it, who did I work for, really? I stopped to consider that question, closing my eyes. I knew The Arbiters had recruited me, but where did my box reside on the cosmic org chart? They had gone to the Omnipresence to petition my recruitment, and the Omnipresence had agreed to "hire" me. So did I work for the Arbiters? The Omnipresence? Both? Or was I some kind of cosmic free agent?

"The latter, child."

I opened my eyes and looked up to find Mrs. Graymalkin standing over me. She was wearing a long blue dress, with long sleeves and a high neck. There was lace at the wrists and on the hem of the skirt. Her hair was pulled back and fastened behind her head, and she gave me a warm smile to take the edge off of her unexpected arrival.

Maybe I'd just been exposed to too much magic in the past few weeks, but I didn't even blink. Instead, I gave her a smile in return, stood up to greet her -- and froze.

I found myself balanced on a pair of unfamiliar and uncomfortable heels, and my hair tumbled down over my shoulders in a series of elaborate ringlets. Instead of my jeans and sweater, I was decked out in what appeared to be a proper Victorian dress, white and nearly floor-length with long sleeves and a high neckline. The skirt had enough bows and ruffles to supply a kindergarten class in an all-girl's school for several weeks. Under the dress was the feel of strange lingerie -- rigid corset cinched tight over an ankle-length chemise, and bloomers under petticoats, stockings, and all. As the unfamiliar inventory of terms rolled through my brain, I felt like I was drowning in cloth.

The room around me had also changed, to what appeared to be a sitting room, also dressed for the Victorian era. The sofa I had been sitting on had become an overstuffed cream-colored antique, and a pair of matching chairs sat across from it. Highly polished hardwood floors reflected cream walls with an intricately patterned wallpaper border. Gold-framed landscapes adorned the walls, and the fireplace mantle held a small well-made clock and a pair of ornate candlesticks with a gold-framed mirror above. Across the room, a sitting area with a small table and matching chairs sat before a bay window, with sunlight streaming in.

"Welcome to my home, Rebecca," Mrs. Graymalkin said. "Or rather, my home as it was a century ago."

I looked at her, slightly confused. "I don't understand. Are we there, now? Have we traveled in time?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, dear. This is ... well, a shared hallucination, if you will. I created it so that we could talk face to face, without either of us leaving our homes."

"But why ... why here," I asked, waving my hand in front of me. 'And why dressed like this?"

"Because I had to choose something, and I was feeling somewhat nostalgic this morning. As for the clothing ... well, this was the fashion in my day," she replied. "I haven't seen anyone in a dress like that in over a century. Especially someone as pretty as you, Rebecca. It suits you." Mrs. Graymalkin smiled, and I blushed. Then, surprising myself, I delivered a full curtsey that did justice to the dress.

"Thank you, Ma'am. And thank you for coming to see me." I motioned towards the sofa. "Please, won't you sit?"

The older woman nodded and moved to the far corner of the sofa, sitting with an elegance that showed her dancer's training.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea?"

She shook her head. "Goodness, no, Rebecca. I'm not sure you could find your way around a Victorian kitchen in any case, but I do appreciate the thought." There was a pause, and my visitor smiled. "Your manners are impeccable, by the way, and I thank you for putting up with my uninvited intrusion with such grace."

"You are always welcome, Ma'am." I attempted to sit gracefully as well, carefully smoothing my skirt under me and folding my hands in my lap. The corset held me up straight, so being completely comfortable was clearly out of the question. But at least I could stop trying to stand in those awkward shoes.

As I tried to center my weight over my hips, Mrs. Graymalkin noticed my fidgeting.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca. Perhaps I shouldn't have dressed you so ... authentically. Wearing a corset does take some practice ... and a bit of dedication."

I tried to take a deep breath, and stopped. "Well," I said thoughtfully, "I wouldn't have chosen the ... whale-bone lingerie myself, but it's certainly ... an eye-opener. And it is a part of your past, so I'm thankful to be sharing a bit of it -- even if it means putting up with this corset." I threw her a smile, and she smiled back. In the sudden silence that followed, I heard the mantle clock ticking. Finally, I decided my curiosity trumped my desire to be polite, and I raised a white gloved hand.

"May I ask what brought you here to see me this morning?"

"Why, you did, girl. You were thinking so hard, I couldn't stay asleep."

I was stunned. "You ... you can hear my thoughts?"

"Only when you're dealing with issues pertaining to your life as the Advocate. It is part of my role as your teacher. As soon as you began to consider this Leander situation, the sheer force of your thoughts pulled me from a sound sleep. You are quite powerful and persistent, Becca. So rather than leave the comfort of my bed, I brought us both here to discuss it."

Before I could open my mouth to apologize for ruining her Sunday morning, she was already waving a hand in dismissal. "Nothing to apologize for, dear. You are my student, and you needed me. If I didn't want to be needed, I would never have agreed to teach you. Besides, I didn't plan to sleep the day away. Goodness, child, it's nearly eleven!"

I looked at her. "So you know about my latest 'assignment?'"

Mrs. Graymalkin nodded. "Indeed I do. And accepting it freely was exactly the reaction I would expect from you. For all of their incompetence with humans, they chose you well." She raised her chin and looked down her nose at me. "You could have turned it down, you know. You don't work for the Arbiters. Or, strictly speaking, for the Omnipresence."

I shook my head. "Even though that's good to know, I couldn't just walk away, even if I wanted to. Leander has been abused magically, and my job is to set that right, no matter who signs my paycheck." She smiled, as if she knew that would have been my answer. "But based on what you said, it sounds like I don't have a boss -- which explains my lack of a paycheck, I suppose." I grinned. "Does this mean I'm a free agent?"

"In a way. We're all free agents, Becca," she replied. "We humans, in any case. We're limited only by the choices we make. But because of the nature of things, we all also work for the Omnipresence. It's her universe, after all. Orders from above are never direct, and not at all binding, since free will is an important part of her master plan. For example, I wasn't ordered to teach you. I was offered the opportunity to guide you, and I took it. Happily, I might add."

"What about Leander?"

"She was offered the limited use of her magic again and asked to try and teach you how to use your powers effectively in battle." Mrs. Graymalkin sniffed. "Of course, she was also given the added incentive of there being no penalty should anything happen to you in the course of your lessons. Obviously, her motivations were somewhat ... more base than my own."

I listened to what she didn't say, and decided to make her say it. "Ma'am? What do you think of Leander?"

She hesitated a few seconds too long, and sighed. "Honestly, Becca, you're right about the severity of her punishment, but she was truly a reprehensible ... man at the start of this affair."

I had a stray thought, and spoke without thinking. "Were you there?"

Mrs. Graymalkin looked shocked, then laughed out loud. "Oh, goodness no, child! I am older than I look -- MUCH older -- but not that old. No, I wasn't there, but when I was told of Leander's involvement, I did use my powers to go back and see how events unfolded. He caused a lot of hatred and death before he was forcibly feminized." Her lip twitched. "And magically gelded as well, if you will."

I shook my head. "It's still wrong, to be punished so long without any hope of redemption or release. And now I need to find a way to bring her back from that. The Arbiters suggested that I get her to help me do my job, but I'm not sure I trust her that much. I'm not sure I can trust her at all. I don't really know enough."

The older woman looked at me for a long moment, as if she was looking into my soul, and then she smiled. "I believe you know more than you think," she said. "I think something Leander said to you yesterday holds the key to her redemption. When she said it, she believed it to be true. If it is true, it will greatly simplify things."

I began trying to run through the whole conversation with Leander in my mind, but Mrs. Graymalkin shook her head. "Not now, Advocate." She reached out and patted my hand. "Let me do some research, and I will let you know as soon as I am sure we have the key. In the meantime, you've been working very hard. Your sense of duty is admirable, but you need to learn to take some time to breathe. So today's lesson is just ... be for a while, Rebecca. Be a girl. Be the girl you always wanted to be. We both know the work will still be waiting when you return."

When I opened my eyes, I was back on the couch in my living room. I felt the freedom of my twenty-first century lingerie and the denim hugging my hips. I stood up and did a twirl, and laughed out loud just because I could. I could actually move again.

Of course, now that I wasn't wearing it, I missed the long dress ... just a little. Oh well, I thought with a smile, a girl's entitled to change her mind ... early and often, as a matter of fact.

I heard a door open down the hall, and Heather padded into the kitchen in a green babydoll nightgown and a pair of fluffy slippers. Her hair was every which way but brushed, and sleep made her eyes squint against the light in the kitchen.

"Morning, Becca," she half-mumbled. As she reached for the refrigerator door, I took her hand. She squinted at me, and I shook my head.

"Reality check girlfriend," I whispered, turning her around and leading her back to our bedroom. "Come with me, quick!"

"Hmmmm?" Heather let herself be led back into the room and I closed the door quickly behind her. She looked at me, still half-asleep, and I realized there was more Hunter in her eyes than Heather. Still working on the whole integration thing, I thought. Still trying to embrace Heather without losing Hunter. I guess it's not going to be as smooth a transition as I would have thought from yesterday, but she had been Heather nearly non-stop all day with Mom and the family. Just waking up, it's probably a lot harder to get back into being a girl full-time.

"Time for today's first important girl lesson," I said, turning her to face the mirror. "Now pay attention. What do you see?"

She squinted at herself, reached up and scratched her tousled hair, and then turned to me, confused.

"Oh, goddess!" I growled in frustration. "Let me spell it out for you. You ... are ... a ... girl, hon. You can't just roll out of bed and meet the world head on. You especially can't."

Heather looked annoyed. "Oh, come on, Becca! You can't tell me girls don't ... just take it easy once in a while."

I looked her straight in the eye. "Not when they live in the same house as their boyfriends, they don't." I turned her back to the mirror. "Come on, hon ... do you really want Jeremy seeing you ... like that? With that hair? Look at yourself again. This time, try thinking like Heather, not Hunter."

She looked again, then stared, and gasped. Her eyes opened wide, and she turned back to me in a panic.

"OhmyGod! I'm a mess!!"

I nodded. "Yes, you are. You look like you got into a pillow fight, and the pillow won." I put an arm around her and squeezed. "Not to worry, sis. Look, when you were Hunter, we both know personal grooming was not your strong point. And Heather's influence is only automatic when there's someone else in the room -- someone that isn't me, right? So you just have to think a little more about what it means to be Heather, until it all becomes second nature. Just take a little extra time in the morning before you join the human race, and you'll be fine."

She turned back to the mirror and her lip trembled just a little. "But ... but it would still be okay, wouldn't it?" she asked, her voice begging me to say yes. "For Jeremy to see me like this? I mean, me and him ... it's not just what I look like ... is it? I mean, he loves me, right?"

I smiled and hugged her again. "Yes, he loves you, and it's perfectly all right for him to see you 'like that.' In one way -- the most important way -- it won't matter to Jeremy what you look like when you climb out of bed, because ... well, because he loves you. His heart beats faster every time he sees you. Everyone can see that." I felt her relax slightly. "But how you look isn't about keeping his love. It's about making him feel special."

Once again, Heather looked confused. I sighed, led her away from the mirror, and sat down on the floor across from her. I patted the ground in front of me, and she sank to the floor and looked at me.

"To most guys, having a pretty girl like them is a gift," I said softly. "They can't believe someone who looks the way you do could possibly want them. So when a guy who loves you sees you taking the time and making the effort to look your best for him, he says to himself, 'I'm the luckiest guy on the planet, because that girl loves me.'"

I looked into her eyes. "You don't want him to cut you some slack, Heather. You want to show him how much you care. You want him to know you don't take him for granted. You want to be as pretty as you can be for him ... because you love him, and you want him to know it. Understand?"

She looked back at me and nodded. "I do love him. So much!"

"Good!" I said decisively. I stood up and helped Heather to her feet. "Then go show him, girl."

She gave me a smile and a quick hug.

"Thanks, Becca," she whispered in my ear with a squeeze. "Love you!"

"Love you too, sis," I whispered back. "Hey! Let's pick something killer for you to wear -- you know, something that will make him feel lucky."

She laughed and ran to the closet.

I don't know if Jeremy felt lucky, but he sure felt something when Heather walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later. She was all brushed and made-up in a teal tank top, a black miniskirt, and a pair of black ankle boots she had borrowed from me. His temperature probably rose a degree or so, and he smiled and rushed to hold a chair for Heather when she approached the table. She ignored the chair, and instead walked right to him, touched his face and brushed his lips with hers.

"Morning, Jer," she said with a smile. Jeremy smiled back and leaned in to kiss her the way he knew she wanted to be kissed. Suddenly, I could see him realize that he was still wearing the tee shirt and sweatpants he had slept in ... and even I could see the sweats did nothing to hide what Heather was doing to him down below.

"B...be right back," he half mumbled, and practically ran down the hall to his bedroom. As the door slammed, Heather looked at me, her head cocked.

"Well, his head didn't explode," I said with a smile, "but the rest of him sure seemed to want to."

The light bulb went on over her head, and she started giggling.

"Oh, poor Jeremy!" She had her hand over her mouth as she tried to speak through the laughter. "That's so unfair! I didn't do hardly anything, and he's ... he's ..." She dissolved into giggles again.

"Behold your power, Wonder Girl," I intoned seriously. I threw my head back, spread my arms and stuck out my chest. "Treat it with respect, guard it well, use it wisely."

"What power is this, Bee?" Amy walked in from the front door, a smile on her face. She never knocked -- not since we had become sisters so long ago.

Heather stopped giggling and looked at Amy. "I wore this outfit, and Jeremy ... Jeremy ..." She broke down again, collapsing into the chair Jeremy had pulled back for her.

"Let's just say Heather's enjoying the effect she has on her boyfriend," I said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Amy's eyebrows rose, and she grinned. "Was he happy to see you, girl?"

Heather nodded, still smiling. "Well, all right!" Amy said. "Good on you!"

Suddenly, Jack pushed his past in my face, and I remembered what it was like to be a twelve-year-old boy in love. That a girl would actually pay attention to me ... that she would want me.

That I would want her ... so much.

Damn.

I saw things from my brother's point of view, and realized we'd done something stupid. Really stupid. And a touch cruel. Feeling guilty, I looked over my shoulder down the hall, then back to Heather. She saw the look on my face, and froze.

"It was nice to see what you do to him, sis," I said softly, "but I think maybe we both need to apologize to Jeremy."

She looked confused. I sighed. "Heather, you teased him. You caught him unprepared in his own kitchen, and you made him want you. It's never really fair to do something like that to a guy, and now that you're both living under the same roof, Jeremy needs to know ... well, know that he's safe. The kind of relationship you two have isn't based on lust, but on love. You shouldn't have played him, and I shouldn't have helped you." I spoke to her, mind to mind. You remember what it was like when you were Hunter? When a girl played with you like that, how did you feel?

Her face went white. "Oh my God! Did I ... did I hurt him just now?" she asked anxiously. "I didn't mean to. I didn't want to ... oh, Becca!"

"Sssssh, sis. It's okay. I think you just ... embarrassed him a little," I replied. "Guys don't want to be reminded that we can drive them crazy with a touch. You need to let him know he makes you feel the same way, and that you're sorry for doing something like that to someone you love. Okay?" She looked sad. I sat across from her and took her hands. "It's okay, Heather. You didn't break anything. Just go tell him you're sorry, and it'll be fine."

She nodded and almost ran down the hallway. Amy and I watched her go, then Amy gave me a small frown.

"Honestly, Becca, I think you're overreacting. It's nothing, really. She was only flirting."

"No, Ames. She was teasing."

"It's only teasing if she wasn't willing to follow through." Amy's voice held a half smile, but my glance at her made it slip away.

"That's part of what I'm worried about," I said softly, taking a step closer to her. "She wants him, Amy. I helped her pick an outfit that raised his temperature, and she like the effect she had on him. Especially when Jeremy makes her melt the way he does." I sighed. "Both of them are too young to be playing with fire, and at the same time they're both hot enough to ... spontaneously combust."

Amy's eyes widened as the truth finally dawned on her. "And if your mom catches the two of them in bed together, she's going to blow up. Oh ... my ... God, Becca!"

"Exactly." I sat down heavily in one of the chairs. "Right now, Heather needs a home more than she needs a hook-up. I mean, come on, sis -- she's younger than we are, and we never ... well, I never ..." I gave Amy a half-questioning glance, and she looked shocked.

"Becca! Do you think I'd do THAT and not tell you? Sisters forever, remember?"

I reached out and gave her hand a squeeze in apology. She smiled back.

"Anyway, Heather needs a family as much as she needs Jeremy, so I need to get them to keep the lust under control. And I need to teach Heather how to manage her libido ... and Jeremy's, too, since he's just a guy, and we both know guys can't help themselves." I put my head in my hands. "Not that it's my job or anything. I'm just a girl who can't say no." I sighed again. "Don't mind me, I'm just slowly going crazy. Somebody stop me!"

I felt Amy wrap her arms around me from behind, and rest her head on top of mine. "You always take on too much, Becca," she whispered. ''I don't think anyone can stop you from doing that. I don't think you want them to. So go apologize to Jeremy, if you think you must. But don't take too long!" I heard the grin in her voice. "I want to take my best friend shopping for the afternoon, and we can't leave until she's finished being Mini-Mom."

I pressed back into her, and she gave me a squeeze. With another sigh, I stood up and headed down the hall.

The door was closed, and I couldn't hear voices inside Jeremy's room. In fact, I couldn't hear anything at all. I peeked into our room, but Heather wasn't there. I even checked the bathroom. So she was in with Jeremy, and they were not speaking.

What could a boy and girl possibly be doing in a bedroom ... without saying a word?

Cursing myself for not going with Heather in the first place, I threw my perception ahead of me into the room as I hurried back down the hall. My sight flew through the door and saw the two of them, on the bed.

And I stopped short, inches from throwing the door open.

They sat side by side, arms around each other. Jeremy was still in his sleep clothes, Heather still in her tank top and miniskirt. Her head was on his shoulder, and his head rested on hers. There were some tear tracks down Heather's cheeks, but Jeremy just held her.

They were just ... together. Not kissing. Not even breathing hard.

Just being.

I could see the love and contentment radiating from them both. So I pulled my sight back through the closed door, and smiled.

Becca, I thought, shaking my head, sometimes you just worry too damned much.

I walked back to the kitchen just to give them some time, for a while. And to spend a little time with my best friend in the world, just being a girl.

In a way, that was one part of my new life that was way overdue.

But as I reached the kitchen end of the hall where Amy was waiting, everything ...

... changed.

The world around me was lit by flickering shadows of red and orange, playing across rough stone walls where drywall had been only a second before. The opening in front of me revealed a vast cavern that extended out and down, and I threw myself against the wall to keep out of sight of anything on the other side that might be interested in me. As I tried to get a handle on what just happened, my subconscious invoked fifteen different levels of shields, to protect against types of magic I barely knew existed. It was obvious I needed more data before I could do anything intelligent, so I stopped thinking and waited for someone to tell me where I was. And why I was there.

A deep purring sound echoed from the cavern, followed by a wicked laugh. "Excellent," it said, and laughed again. The voice sounded like I thought Eartha Kitt and Julie Newmar would sound if they decided to merge into a single entity and become the essence of pure evil. I didn't even breathe as I moved forward silently, although I was pretty sure she already knew I was here.

"Of course I know you're here," The voice half-growled. "After all, I brought you."

Mental shields I didn't know I possessed snapped into place, and I heard the Cat Woman huff. "You closed your mind to me! How rude! And here we were, just about to get to know each other better."

So she doesn't know me! I grinned. Or who I am. Let's do a few things to keep it that way. Thinking quickly, I wove a spell that changed my voice, making it higher with a touch of a Japanese accent.

"Watch who you are calling rude, whoever you are," I called out. "After all, I believe it is considered polite to at least extend an invitation before deciding to kidnap a guest."

She laughed again. "Ah, but when a new magic user enters my playground without asking for my permission, it makes me ... upset. I tend to be rash and impulsive and do things they'll regret."

"Don't you mean, things you'll regret?" I gave my voice a teasing lilt.

"I mean what I say, nothing more or less," the voice hissed. "Now come out, little witch, and let me have a look at you. I like to meet trespassers face to face."

"And if I refuse?"

The voice held a happy, almost triumphant tone. "Then I come in and get you."

Terrific, I thought with a sigh. So nice to have a choice.

Although to be perfectly honest, I'd rather be shopping with Amy.

Sorry for yet another extended hiatus in the lives of Becca and company, everyone. This time, real life held me hostage by providing too much of the writing I do to help my husband pay the bills. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you like where the story is heading! *hugs tight* Also, special thanks to Darla and Aardvark for giving this part a read with a fresh eye, so I could do the final polish. -- Randalynn

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