The Disclaimer

Any comments about Bikini Beach, how it works, what it does, by characters other than Anya or Grandmother are potentially non-canonical and wrong. As this story is told from the protagonist's particular point of view, this includes comments by the narrator. The protagonist, and thus the narrative, are what the protagonist believes or interprets from what he is experiencing. Thus some of the mechanics of BB are biased by the protagonist's view and experiences. Furthermore, because of the particular viewpoint of the story, those errors often won't be corrected. When the errors are corrected, the correction will often be disbelieved and rejected.

Despite this I will admit to pushing the limits of Bikini-Beach canon, perhaps even going outside on occasion. Bikini Beach and its principle characters are copyright 1998 by Elrod W.

            A Wednesday in August

Over breakfast, Peter reminded us, "Lucy and I are joining Daisy and Mrs. Matsumoto, visiting Mr. Matsumoto at his office for lunch. Mr. Matsumoto invited us.

"Mrs. Matsumoto informed me of it yesterday," replied Ma. "It's a splended idea, and a wonderful opportunity."

"I agree," added Pa. "It's always good to see the business world in action."

I stayed home all morning, helping with chores, reading, practicing clarinet and piano, and even indulging in memories and thoughts of Bikini Beach and my new friends there. About an hour before I had to leave, I began to get ready for lunch with Mr. Matsumoto.

I realized that this was a business lunch. Ballet itself was embarrassing enough, but this time I couldn't wear my ballet leotard and tights under jeans or a ballet rap-around skirt. I had to dress up properly for lunch, and change at the ballet studio. I only hoped I could do it. I knew I would have to do it sooner or later, but the prospect was scary.

I decided to wear my olive miniskirt-jacket outfit. If Pa knew I had this -- well, the confrontation would have occured right then and there. Ma actually got me this one time when we went shopping this summer. I picked out a white sleeveless blouse, olive anklet socks and black shoes.

As I was about to depart for Daisy's house, Ma came up and said, "That's an excellent outfit for a professional dinner. I heartily approve. Enjoy your dinner. But a sports bag is out of place. Here, take this small briefcase. You can carry your ballet kit in that."

"Thanks, Ma. I'll see you later," I said, transfering the contents of my bag to the briefcase.

Daisy opened the door almost promptly when I rang the bell. "Lucy! You look so..." She trailed off, and hugged me. I lifted her up; she felt a whole lot heavier now, than when I was Luke. I had to crouch and use my strong leg muscles.

"Hi, Daisy." I let her down.

"Come on in, Lucy. We're about to go." She was wearing an almost adult-like navy-blue skirt and jacket, with a white blouse. She even wore tights with miniature heals!

Then I saw Mrs. Matsumoto. I didn't conk out as I did as Luke, but she was still gorgeous -- especially in an adult version of Daisy's dress suit. Together, they made an awesome idential mother-daughter image.

"Mrs. Matsumoto!" I shook her hand, and then she embraced me in a hug. I hugged her back, but didn't attempt to lift her up -- especially since she was taller and heavier than me.

"Shall we go now?"

We got in her car, and drove to Mr. Matsumoto's law office.

Peter was already in the front waiting room when we arrived, talking with the secretary. He was wearing his own suit.

Peter turned at our entrance. "Looks like they've arrived. Hey, ladies!"

I noticed how Peter briefly glanced at Mrs. Matsumoto, before Daisy embraced him. "This is my kid sister, Lucy." He told the secretary, indicating me.

The secretary stood up, and we shook hands, and then she shook hands with Mrs. Matsumoto. "Mr. Matsumoto is still in his office, drafting a motion. I expect him out shortly. Please, all of you, have a seat."

I sat down, and Daisy glanced from Peter to me before coming and sitting on my lap.

I turned at the sound of someone entering, a boy a year or two older than me, I guessed. He looked around before his attention zeroed on Mrs. Matsumoto. She stood up as he went to her.

"Hey, gorgeous! What's say we go off and find a nice quiet place for some fun!" He was about to embrace her. Peter jumped up to intervene, but too fast for me to do anything other than blink, Mrs. Matsumoto did something and the boy was on his back on the floor.

"Oh, I'm so in love," the boy exclaimed to the ceiling. "This lovely lady is so hot, so sexy!"

"She's also my wife, young man," growled Mr. Matsumoto, emerging from his office.

"Dad," said Daisy. "Something's driving him."

"What do you mean, Daisy?" asked Mr. Matsumoto.

"I can't say it, but it feels like something strange in his mind is pushing him to behave like that. He also imagines himself a lady!"

"Yes!" exclaimed the boy excitedly. "Yes-yes-yes! I'm so in love!"

Daisy continued, "He was saying `yes' to what I told you. He came here because he wants to talk to a lawyer, any lawyer. When he's alone, he's so angry at himself about always failing, always destroying himself."

It was just an instant, but I spotted a flash of gratitude and surprise in his expression, glancing at Daisy.

"Excuse me, Daisy. I have to get up," I said. She quickly dismounted from my lap and I stood up and nervously approached Mr. Matsumoto. I tried to speak softly so that only he would hear what I said. "Mr. Matsumoto, there's something about Bikini Beach that may help him." I was wondering how I could possibly explain without sounding crazy, about Bikini Beach changing boys to girls, and affecting their memories.

He grimaced, but said, "Thank you Lucy, that is an idea." He went over to his wife. "Ellen, we have to talk alone. Sorry, everyone." They entered his office.

I never even got a chance to explain my idea!

That was probably a good thing, now that I thought of it. It meant that he must have known something about Bikini Beach, and was taking Daisy and me seriously.

Meanwhile that boy returned to his feet. He turned to me, leering lecherously. "Hey, babe." He approached.

I was paralyzed with fright for a moment, before I remembered. I jumped back into a TKD fighting stance, shouting, "Hah!"

"Ooooooooo, I so love Hot Action Babes," said the boy as he approached, but Peter grabbed him by the shoulder and twisted him around.

"Buster, stay away from my sister," said Peter. "Unless you want your life expectancy slashed."

Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto returned to the outer room. "Young man, I may be able to take you on as client or refer you to another attorney better qualified for your case. But first, you must accompany me somewhere that might help your mind."

"No psychiatrist, no psychologist!" the boy exclaimed.

"No, not those. Someone who may address the problem more directly. I'm sorry, everyone, but our lunch date is off. This must be done immediately. Peter, I request your help escorting this young man to my car."

"Of course, sir," he said.

Mr. Matsumoto took him by the arm, and Peter followed behind them as they left the suite. The last I heard from them was Mr. Matsumoto asking his name. "We can't keep calling you `Young Man'."

"Or 'Buster'," added Peter.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Matsumoto, all of you," said the secretary. "Maybe the lunch date can be rescheduled another time."

"That's okay. Thank you very much," said Mrs. Matsumoto.

Daisy and I followed Mrs. Matsumoto back to the car. "Would you like me to drop you off anywhere, Lucy?"

"How about the mall?" I asked. Ballet was there, and
perhaps I might meet Becky and Tracy, and possibly even Carol!

            Off to Bikini Beach

GLENN AND PETER escorted the boy, who had given his name as Jim, to Glenn's car. Jim got into the front passenger seat. As Glenn went around and entered the driver's seat, he said, "Peter, I don't think I'll need you any further. Thank you for your service."

Glenn drove off, heading for Bikini Beach. Inside, he was a bundle of nerves, and he kept telling himself, `Keep this professional, strictly professional. I am asking for a service for which I will pay a fee. Don't confront Grandmother with my views of her practice.' The thoughts kept running through her mind.

"Where are we going?" Jim asked.

"Bikini Beach. They have facilities to help you."

"Be still, my heart!" He breathed heavily. "Acres and acres of lovely ladies and gorgeous girls in abbreviated attire. Peter should really have come!"

Glenn fumed a moment, then reminded himself that if Daisy was right, this jackassery was imposed on him. That reference to Peter, it occurred to Glenn, cheering up his mood, may have slipped under the radar: Peter was needed to help Glenn keep control of him.

Eventually, Glenn turned off the freeway and reached the Bikini Beach parking lot. He drove up to the drop-off area. To his surprise, Grandmother herself was waiting, and she waved and signaled him to stop in front of her.

Glenn got out of the car and walked around to greet Grandmother, holding his hand out for a handshake, which Grandmother shook firmly. "Good day, Ma'am. I wish to consult with you about a professional matter." He went to the passenger door and opened it, letting Jim out, and taking his shoulder. "This young man is a potential client, but he has a certain difficulty describing his situation or articulating his desires." `Strictly professional. Strictly professional,' Glenn's mind echoed. He was concerned that he'd gone personal by insinuating a problem of his with Bikini Beach practice, even though his statement was accurate. "I wish to stay with him until we resolve his issue, so do you have valet parking? And what do you charge?"

"Normally, we don't do valet parking," replied Grandmother. "However, I do see your problem, and an employee will be out shortly to park your car." Grandmother quoted a fee.

"That's eminently reasonable," said Glenn. "I will require a receipt, of course." Glenn got out his wallet and paid the fee. The employee came out, wearing a Bikini-Beach tee-shirt over a bikini, and Glenn squeezed Jim's arm an instant to remind him, reminding himself as well that he had a perfectly wonderful wife -- and that this would be out of range of the permitted. She had a receipt pad, from which Grandmother made out the receipt.

"Good day miss," he greeted the employee. "Here are the keys." He handed her the keys, slipping her a couple dollar coins as tip.

Grandmother led Glenn and Jim into her office, meanwhile describing her consulting fees, including progressive deductions for length and number of memberships purchased.

"Your fees are reasonable, Ma'am, and I agree to them. Confidentiality is another issue. Whenever someone consults with me in my position as a lawyer, I must maintain confidentiality. I am allowed to consult with experts, or obtain services, and provide the necessary information, but I must require similar confidentiality from them."

Once they were seated in Grandmother's office, Glenn opened his briefcase and handed Grandmother a sheet. "This is my standard confidentiality agreement." Glenn was worried. Not only was he scared of Bikini Beach and upset about what had happened to Alan/Ellen ten years earlier, he would really be at a loss if Grandmother refused the agreement. He was consulting with Bikini Beach's Grandmother only because he knew of no one else.

Fortunately, Grandmother said, "I have no problem with this agreement," and signed it. Glenn promptly signed it as well.

"I see a problem with this young man," Grandmother continued. "I have blocked the bimbo spell he's been under, but the block has to be temporary -- at least until we figure out what to do."

"Thank you, thank you! Thank you, ma'am!" exclaimed Jim.

"The problem is the mage who transformed him," continued Grandmother. "If we reverse the transformation, or remove the bimbo spell for more than twenty or thirty minutes, it becomes likely that the mage will detect it. Consequently, time is critical. So, young man, let's hear your story."

Glenn had his notebook and pen all ready.

"My real name is Wendy Levine, and I was 28 years old at the time. I was a graduate student at the University in the neuroscience department, and my family lives in another part of the country. I was approached by someone a couple years ago, and we discussed my research for a little, and then he promptly offered a huge salary to join his team of research scientists. By that time, I was having serious ethical issues with my work. To make a long story short, I ultimately declined the offer, and I was changed to persuade me to reconsider my decision."

It occurred to Glenn that the use of magic might render legal solutions useless, and he might be out of his league.

"Now, as far as most everyone knows, I am James Steedman, fifteen years old, sophomore-to-be at East High, football player, and resident slime-bucket to the girls -- although many girls take to it. Mr. Matsumoto, I hope you accept my apologies on behalf of your wife and your visiters."

"I accept. I realize you weren't yourself at the time."

"Thank you. My so-called parents were both strangers when I first woke up in bed in their house. They behaved as if I were always their son, and I couldn't behave otherwise. I would have thought it was pretense on their part, if I weren't compelled myself. My brother and sisters all seem to believe as well." He paused. "I realize that this is totally unbelievable."

"I agree, it would sound unbelievable," said Glenn, "if we weren't at a place where such things are practiced." `Keep it professional,' he thought to himself. `Keep personal issues out.'

Grandmother said, "Mr. Matsumoto is correct about the nature of Bikini Beach. Here, men and boys who visit become girls and women for the duration of their guest passes."

"Does that mean you can reverse this and I can become Wendy again?" asked Jim eagerly?

"We could, but because of the mage who transformed you, we won't restore you until we've dealt with him or her. We wish to keep him as ignorant as possible of what's happening. We will even have to return you as the `slime-bucket' if we can't come up with a plausible reason for you to change.

"For now, we need to provide a cover for Mr. Matsumoto to interview you properly, as your potential attorney." Grandmother looked at both Glenn and Jim. "Here's my proposal: Jim, you tried your schtick on a girl you met near downtown. She, to your surprise, joined you and proposed an afternoon together at Bikini Beach. You agreed for (*throat-clearing*) obvious reasons, and as a shock to the system, you became a girl yourself.

"Mr. Matsumoto, you would have to be that girl who encounters Jim and takes him to Bikini Beach: a sixteen-year-old girl just getting off from work. For reasons you'll understand, you and Jim took the bus here instead of driving."

Grandmother paused, apparently awaiting a reaction.

`Keep it strictly professional,' Glenn told himself, shuddering internally. `Do what's needed professionally. Don't let either fear or personal resentments rule you.' "That sounds reasonable. But what about your reality-shifts?" That was what disturbed Glenn the most, the affects on people's minds and memories.

"On Jim's part, it would be a standard local shift. When she gets home tonight, the girl Jim will be thought of as a daughter and sister until sometime around midnight. The next day, they will only remember Jim, and forget that he visited Bikini Beach.

Grandmother turned to Jim. "If, as I suspect, your family consists only of non-magical innocents or lackeys of the villains, they won't know any better. If one of your family members is a mage, especially the mage who changed you, he'll know. We hope, but we can't be certain, that he'll only see the cover story -- the trip with the girl to Bikini Beach for the day. If you can identify the mage, please, it's critically important, inform me as soon as you can.

"As for you, Mr. Matsumoto, we need to establish the cover story. It has to be a global reality-shift, in which, outside of Jim's local shift, you as the girl brought Jim the boy to Bikini Beach for a fun afternoon as a girl plus an attitude change. You will be your wife's daughter. Your wife will now be a single mother, with a corresponding drop in your standard of living. Don't worry; it will last only until around two tonight. You will retain all the information, including the notes that you take here today and any other research you may do.

"You would have to go in first, to establish the global reality-shift, where you bring Jim here. You will know what to do when you change. Is this satisfactory?"

Glenn was seriously frightened, but he tried to keep it in. "It will do. Jim?"

"It's great!"

"I'll sell you two single-day guest passes, and today's consultation will be free. It will be important, of course, for you to make optimal use of your time here to get all the information possible -- but also enjoy the attractions here just in case we've attracted the attention of the mage."

Grandmother prepared two guest passes for them, and quoted a rather expensive price. Glenn paid by credit card. "I have to phone my wife and also my paralegal, before doing anything."

"Certainly," said Grandmother, handing him a phone.

First, Glenn called his office manager and paralegal, Darline, and told her that he would be out of the office the rest of the day. Then he called home, hoping Ellen would be home by then.

"Hello?" answered Ellen.

"Hi Dear," said Glenn. "I'm at Bikini Beach now."

"I was hoping you'd find an alternative, but I guess it was necessary."

"The problem is serious, and I have to spend the rest of the afternoon here to take his case."

"I take it that means..." Ellen trailed off.

"It's only this afternoon and tonight, but our living situation will change. I don't know how." That last wasn't exactly a lie, because he didn't know how their situation would change. It would lose face to state outright that he'd be a teenage girl, Ellen's older daughter. The prospect itself was scaring him.

"Just don't get yourself trapped, Honey," said Ellen. "You have no idea what traps exist until you set one off, in which case it's too late."

Glenn shuddered, thinking back a decade earlier, when Alan had been his best friend and college roommate, until crossing Bikini Beach. Even then, Alan's change to Ellen would only have lasted a month, except that Glenn had gotten Ellen pregnant, freezing the change permanently. Fortunately, things had worked out very well, and neither Glenn nor Ellen would give up (or kill off) Daisy for anything.

Now, if they were trapped, they would all be trapped in the impoverished life of a single mother.

"I'll do my best," he said.

"Love-ya," said Ellen.

"Love you too. Bye." Glenn hung up.

"Neither of you will become pregnant today, the primary trap that would force you to stay transformed for life," said Grandmother. "Both of you will be girls on the Pill, having taken it this morning and consistently the past couple of years. Mr. Matsumoto, it's your time to go. Shower; the water does the change. Best wishes."

Glenn took his pass and went to the men's changing room. He hesitated at the changing room a good solid minute before opening the door and entering. There was no way he could mentally prepare himself for what he knew was coming. Was he really going to change? To a girl? To a teenage girl?

He would know what to do, Grandmother said. He hoped he would do the right thing.

After showering, Glenn realized that he was now a girl named "Glinda", and Ellen was now her mom. He felt strange all over. Despite Grandmother's assurances, he didn't know what to do. He decided to return to his locker--

Glinda was still in her McDonald's uniform, sitting between Jim and the window on the bus to Bikini Beach. The bus was exiting the freeway. Jim's arm rested on the seat back behind her, and just then he placed his hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and smiled back at him.

Jim was such a hunk, and was even being nice for now. Too bad his famed infamous sliminess had to emerge when she'd suggested the afternoon and evening at Bikini Beach: "Acres and acres of lovely ladies and gorgeous girls in abbreviated attire!" She thought that perhaps an afternoon spent on her side of the eternal gender divide might just be the thing to smooth out his rough edges. It occurred to her with a momentary pang of surprising jealousy, that that would probably make him irresistibly attractive to all girls everywhere. As it was, many girls apparently took to his very sliminess.

Back at the transit center, she'd phoned Mom at work and told her about taking a friend to Bikini Beach. She wondered if Mom knew anything about Bikini Beach's changing boys to girls. If Mom did, she didn't give any indication; Mom only wished her a fun afternoon. The hint of disapproval was no doubt due to Bikini Beach's well-known expensive memberships and guest passes.

Then at the bus stop, Jim had scanned the waiting ridership, mostly girls already in their swimwear under tee-shirts, and said, "Oh my, the steam's going to fog up the whole bus. How is the driver ever going to make it to our destination?! This bus is going to be a sauna, with all the beauteous babes in bikinis."

`Little does he know,' chuckled Glinda to herself. `He's going to be one himself.'

"Of course," Jim continued, turning back to Glinda, "You out-steam them all, you in your lovely McDonald's uniform." He scanned her up and down. "I fear for my heart, when I see you on the other side of the changing rooms."

"Oh, poof!" Glinda exclaimed. "Flatterer!" She swatted him lightly in affection.

The bus arrived at Bikini Beach, and they disembarked with the rest of the passengers.

The lines weren't long at all at this time of day, and in almost no time, they reached the ticket booth.

"Hello, may I help you?" asked the young lady manning the booth.

"We wish to purchase two guest passes for the afternoon," said Glinda.

"We have a three-week special, for the price of three day passes," said the ticket lady.

"I'm afraid we must decline the offer. Maybe next time. For now, just the afternoon and evening."

As Glinda handed over her credit card, Jim fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "I should pay."

"No, you're my guest here," said Glinda, as the lady took and swiped her credit card. "Miss, our decision to visit Bikini Beach was spontaneous, and we didn't stop to get swimwear, assuming that Bikini Beach would have some for sale."

"Certainly. We carry a variety, which we sell at excellent prices." She directed them to a table off to the side.

A tiny blue and silver thong bikini beckoned to Glinda. Now *that* would be daring, she thought excitedly. Bikinis were routine, ordinary, boring, and conservative. Mom need never know if she wore this at Bikini Beach.

A middle-aged woman also looking over the swimsuits leaned over and said softly, "Young lady, you probably don't want to be in one of those for hours on end. Not unless you're the masochistic type who enjoys being sawed in half down there. Dental floss is meant to clean your teeth."

Glinda quickly dismissed the woman's advice, realizing that this just might be her once-in-a-lifetime chance to wear such a thing. Meanwhile, Jim got swimming trunks extending down to his knees. Glinda was surprised; she expected something more in the spirit of Speedos, or at least the old-fashioned swimwear boys used to wear a generation earlier, considerably shorter than these days.

"Shower when you change," said the saleslady, as Jim this time paid for both swimsuits. "It's a Bikini Beach health requirement."

Jim and Glinda went to their respective locker rooms. Glinda hoped she would recognize the female Jim on the other side.

******************************

That Evening

GLENN, NOW GLINDA, a sixteen-year-old Japanese-American girl, got off the bus from Bikini Beach with Wendy. It was now eight-thirty and already dark. They'd had lots of fun at Bikini Beach.

Glinda had recovered her memories of Glenn, and the job she had to do, in the showers of the women's changing room. She realized that Grandmother had temporarily made her completely Glinda in the men's changing room and shifted her to the bus, to keep the situation as plausible as possible. Jim had probably temporarily forgotten his purpose and reality as Wendy.

As a side bonus, Glinda remembered Alima al-Hamdani, who had consulted Glenn a week earlier. She realized that Glenn had completely forgotten her. As soon as Glenn returned, he would have to go back and check his records. Right then and there, Glinda extracted her notebook and jotted down everything she remembered about al-Hamdani's consultation. She suspected that his complete loss of memory of her and her consultation was due to a reality shift. A mage may have done something to her.

She'd had to push through the mortification and physical strangeness of being a hot teenybopper girl, especially in the skimpy thong bikini. She'd wondered what possessed her to choose it, but now she had to live with it.

Worse still, she'd discovered that she really was that masochistic type the woman had alluded to. She thought back to accounts Glenn had once read about the most brutally painful ways of death, and thought she might actually enjoy being inverted and sawed in half down through the crotch.

She'd recognized Wendy, the female Jim, immediately. She was wearing an identical thong bikini except for the green color. They'd both gone bug-eyed at each other upon meeting. But Wendy's mind was apparently the mind of the original Wendy.

Wendy had recovered first, and spoken. "Shall we get down to business now?"

"Yes, of course," said Glinda, now with Glenn's mind.

During their enjoyment of the activities -- waiting in line and relaxing at the pools -- she'd obtained plenty of information from Wendy. How useful it would prove, that was another question; it was primarily about the research done in her department. The use of magic had changed things, and she now suspected that she was out of her league, where the law would be useless in solving the problem. Nevertheless, once she turned back to Glenn, he would do his best to help Jim.

Bikini Beach was intended as a place girls and women could relax, enjoy swimming, and enjoy the waterpark rides without boys ogling them. It didn't keep half the girls they met from ogling them, though. But they both managed to disregard them and do their work and enjoy the activities.

At one point, Glinda brought up Alima al-Hamdani, and asked if Wendy knew her. She thought the apparent Bikini-Beach-type reality shifts were a point of commonality in the two cases.

"She joined our department shortly before I got zapped," replied Wendy. "I never got to know her, and I never thought of her while I was Jim."

So that was al-Hamdani's "true major", Glinda realized. Wendy explained that the department was a combination of magical studies and applied neuroscience with emphasis on mind influence.

They both went to see Grandmother to discuss al-Hamdani's issue. Grandmother agreed to check to see if a reality-shift occurred. "It's also possible that you were bespelled to forget Ms. al-Hamdani."

"I'll check my records back in the office tomorrow," Glinda said, noting it in her notebook. "I assume correctly that I'll still remember this, Ma'am?"

"Yes, you will remember, as long as the mage doesn't find out and bespell you again."

"So, if my notes of Miss al-Hamdani are intact, that means that I was simply spelled to forget, but if my notes are gone, that means a reality-shift."

"Probably, although the mage could as well make the notes disappear. The simplest way would be to see if the University has any records of such a student."

"Of course," Glinda said.

After bidding Wendy goodbye at the transit center, she automatically went to the bus that stopped near the apartment building she now lived in. She was momentarily disoriented when she realized where she was going, but then remembered.

She spotted a black man who lived with his little sister on the same floor as herself. "Hey, Andy." She went up to him.

"Hi, Glinda. How have you been?" he asked.

"Today was fun. This afternoon, I went with a friend to Bikini Beach." Of course, Glinda didn't tell him it was a guy, and calling him a friend was a minor exaggeration -- although if Glinda remained Glinda, she could envision them becoming friends or more. She wasn't going to say anything about Bikini Beach's transformations.

The bus was ready to board. She sat next to him, and they continued talking. "Interesting," he said. "Jen's mom took Jen and Xena to Bikini Beach last Saturday. She got them long memberships in the water park." He sighed. "They went again yesterday. Jen and Xena have been together so much -- Xena's even taking summer classes with Jen; she's practically moved in with her, and often speaks Chinese with her. They've already made new friends at Bikini Beach, so I'm probably going to see even less of Xena than before."

Glinda felt sorry for him. Xena was a nice little sister, only about three years younger than herself.

Eventually, they got off the bus and walked the half block to their apartment building, and upstairs to the second floor. Glinda momentarily thought of giving Andy a hug, but decided against it. Andy opened the door, and first Xena then Jen appeared.

"Hi, Jen and Xena. Andy, looks like Jen's sleeping over for the night. Good night, all."

"Bye" and "Good night," said everyone.

It occurred to Glinda, as she continued on to her own apartment, that she had just passed the one possible trap: possibly making love with Andy and getting pregnant despite her birth control pills. Now, if no one invaded the apartment and raped her...

As she inserted her key and opened the door, she wondered if Ellen or Daisy would remember her as Glenn. It momentarily occurred to her that they might be back at the old house. But no, Ellen greeted her as she entered.

"Hi Glinda." They hugged. "How was Bikini Beach?"

Glinda stood back and looked Ellen over. Mom -- she had to think of her as Mom now -- looked older, tired, care-worn, jaded. She now had to work to support Glinda and Daisy, as well as take care of them. It occurred to Glinda that Mom might have been unhappy with the expense -- and also with Glinda going to Bikini Beach. But she wouldn't bring it up if Mom didn't.

"It was fun for both of us, a new experience." She didn't know if Mom knew that she had taken a guy to be changed, or that she had done it to untwist his mind and get necessary information. In fact, in this reality, Mom had never told Glinda or Daisy about her own experience with Bikini Beach. "Hey, Daisy!"

Daisy was approaching slowly and warily from the hallway, dressed in her sleepwear, apparently ready for bed.

            "Bikini Beach: Ellen's Daughter Visits" follows immediately.