Marion discovers she knows next to nothing about almost anything, and goes shopping with Belle for "essentials".

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Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2009 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

Belle dumped Marion's bag on the small sofa and looked around.

"It's not bad, actually. Maybe a little larger than my place, in fact."

"Looks a bit worn, though," replied Marion. She gestured at the kitchen area, which had obviously seen better days.

"It's what you expect from transient housing," said Belle. "It's the sort of place people come and go, so no-one feels any sort of attachment for it. They all think, 'Let the next owner tidy it up', and in these particular circumstances the 'next owner' has other things on her mind."

"Dead right there," Marion agreed. She moved towards one of the two doors and opened it.

"That explains the apartment size," she added, "look at this."

Belle joined her in the doorway. The bedroom contained two beds, but one was a single and the other a double.

"Interesting," she said. "I suppose when a detainee comes out, they're going to have different wants and needs, so the housing authority hedged their bets."

"Not to mention the detainees might have psychological or mental problems, which could prevent them sleeping with partners at the start. Not to mention also detainees with families," Marion added.

Belle nodded, and moved to one of the beds, pulling the quilt away. "Looks like the linen is clean, anyway." She used the flat of her hand to test the mattress. "Seems reasonable. Not hammered like some I've come across. You shouldn't have a problem with sleeping tonight."

The apartment appeared to have been cleaned and made ready for it's new occupant. As all the apartments in the block were reserved for former detainees or current staff of Female Offender Containment Facility Five, Marion supposed that a little extra care had been taken than was normally the case. The two moved back to the living room. Belle went to the kitchen alcove and started opening cupboards.

"Would you like a drink? There's a box here with some basic foodstuffs, enough to rustle up a meal for later. Tea or coffee?"

"Either will do fine, Belle. How much food is there? I suppose we'll have to go out and do some shopping. I can't imagine they've left very much for us."

"You're right, there. Hmm. Three days for one person eating carefully, I would say. How do you think you are going to manage cooking? You haven't been near a kitchen for nearly seven months."

"I should manage, especially if you're going to be around making sure I don't cut an artery or burn the block down," Marion replied. "Thinking about shopping, I'd better log in and see how much I've got in the account. I don't know when this pension I've been promised will turn up."

Marion sat down in front of the apartment's personal terminal, stuck her ID card in the slot and turned it on. The keyboard felt odd after using the non-moveable ones in the facility. There was obviously much to be updated on her personal file, but she was pleased to see that, as promised, all her data from her time inside had been transferred to her external file. Her account held a substantial sum, but it all appeared to date from before Marlon's non-arrest half a year ago. She decided to leave the data housekeeping for another time, but had a thought before she disconnected.

"Belle, if you'll give me your card, I'll enable the front door for you. There's absolutely no reason why you shouldn't have access," she offered.

Belle turned from her tea-making activity, looking embarrassed.

"Thank you for your kind offer," she said, "which I will accept, but I can't give you my card just at the moment, since it's still in the facility." She fingered the staff disc, on it's braid round her neck. "I should have changed before I came out with you, but I guess I got too excited to think properly. I can't take out the card if I'm wearing the disc, and vice versa." Marion looked suitably puzzled. "I'll explain, and show you, when you report for work. I'll have to go back and change out of this uniform before tonight, in any case. It's safe enough coming here with you, but I can't walk around the streets like this for obvious reasons."

"I wouldn't have thought you'd have a problem," Marion said. "There's obviously much I have to learn."

Belle shrugged. "It varies. Let's say, there's an element of risk, depending which part of town you're in, and the uniform can put people off when all you want to do is blend in. You'll soon get used to how the system works. Here's your tea."

They sat next to one another on the sofa and decided to plan out the next few days. Belle had taken leave to be available for Marion, which touched her.

"You shouldn't have! You don't take much leave as it is," she protested.

"I have lots of leave owing that I haven't taken," was the reply, "just like most Shepherds. The staff budget is fairly tight, and there aren't really enough of us to cover properly. I suspect if the regulations didn't insist on us taking at least a portion of our allotted leave, there'd be even fewer of us, and we'd be working every day of the year. At any rate, I've got the next two days off, and I intend to use them to help ease you into your new life. Controller Brand and Sophia both realise that you are going to have a much more difficult time adjusting than any other detainee, so they are happy with me doing that. You've already done a lot for the facility, so returning the favour is the least we can do."

"So, you're here officially, then?"

"Yes and no. I think any of the E Deck Shepherds would have volunteered, but Elena recognised that I had additional reasons for wanting to do it. Does that concern you?" Belle's eyes showed an uncertainty at odds to her normal personality.

"I've no complaints so far," replied Marion.

They decided to venture to the local shops in the morning. Marion went into the bedroom to unpack the bag she had been given, and Belle popped into the bathroom before she went back to the facility to change. No sooner had the bathroom door shut than the front door chime went. Marion opened the door to find a man standing there.

"Citizen," he said, before entering without being invited. "I'm Supervisor Hirsch," he added after Marion had closed the door. "This apartment block is my responsibility, and I make sure the residents don't get up to things they're not supposed to." Marion followed her visitor back into the living room.

"I don't want any noise or mess from you, understand? No streams of rowdy visitors, or too many male friends. No comings and goings all hours of the day or night, either. No pets. Got any children?" Marion shook her head. "Good. Little bastards running around the place disturb everyone else. No alcohol permitted in here. Don't get into debt. Don't do anything illegal, or you'll find yourself inside again. You came out, you can just as easily go back." He leaned towards her. "Understand me?"

"I won't 'easily go back', as you put it," Marion said mildly, trying to back away from the bad breath the man was blowing in her face, "since I was exonerated today. I haven't committed any crime."

"Nonsense!" the man said angrily. "You went in, you were guilty. The State doesn't make mistakes. Everyone who comes out thinks they were wrongly convicted. I put up with enough of this crap from others to know you're lying. Don't think you can back-chat me either, I've dealt with far tougher than you, I can tell you."

"Don't you read the news?" Marion asked, her temper beginning to rise. Who was this jumped up jerk, and why was he in charge of such a sensitive appointment? "I just spent the day in the Appeal Court getting cleared."

"I don't bother with the news, I don't have time for that sensationalist rubbish," the man said dismissively. "Anyhow, it's likely you got off on a technicality, if what you are saying really happened at all. You're all guilty as hell, and you got put where you deserved to be." He raised a finger and wagged it at Marion. "If you're a trouble maker, all I have to do is notify the Controller, and you'll be out of here before you have a chance to unpack. So keep your trap shut, and do what I tell you. Otherwise you get an adverse mark on your file. Understand me?"

"And how do I get to put an adverse mark on your file," said Belle, who had silently come out of the bathroom behind the Supervisor. The man spun round, obviously unaware that anyone else had been in the apartment. His eyes widened at Belle's uniform.

"Shepherd," the man said, in a tone which indicated bare civility.

"For your information, citizen, Citizen Hillier here, myself, and Controller Brand have just spent the entire day at the Appeal Court where Citizen Hillier was indeed exonerated," Belle explained to the man. "I would be delighted if you want to make a report to the Controller. She will probably compare your report to the one I am about to write, and the one Citizen Hillier will write, before she comes to any conclusions. Oh, did Citizen Hillier have a chance to explain that she's about to join the staff at the facility?" The man's eyes dropped, and his complexion paled. Belle continued, "If this is the way you browbeat new residents, then I suspect you might not be the right person for your job. Now, leave this apartment, and never return. If I find you've harassed my colleague here again, I'll pitch you through the nearest window. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, citizen," the man muttered. But his eyes flared, and it was plain that he resented not being able to get his own way. He turned, and walked out of the apartment without another word, slamming the front door behind him.

"Asshole," Belle said to the closed door.

Marion shook her head. "Having someone like him around here is not a good idea," she said. "Detainees who have just been released are particularly vulnerable. If they have to put up with a monster like him, it's no wonder many of them turn back to crime. Will you raise this, or shall I?"

"Tricky," Belle replied. "It's basically our word against his. Now, granted, our word may be taken a bit more seriously than the average detainee's might, but it's still just a heated confrontation. Let's leave him to stew and see if there's any more to him than a bit of bluster. Now, if you'll excuse me, I was interrupted..." She turned and went back into the bathroom.

When she emerged, Marion had just refreshed her drink and was wondering what to do next. The man's interruption had somewhat tainted the atmosphere and derailed her thoughts.

"I'll be going, then," Belle said, "I expect I'll be about an hour. When I get back, we can sort out an evening meal. Is that okay?"

"I suppose so," Marion replied, distracted. "Tell me," she asked, "are you expecting to stay overnight? I've no objections if you do, but don't expect anything special from me tonight. It's been a hectic day."

"Ah, I don't think I ought to stay tonight. I don't want to overpower you while you're trying to adjust to the outside world. I haven't brought any overnight things with me, in any case. I'll probably get here just after breakfast tomorrow. Why, do you think you'll need company? Or do you think that bully will be back once he knows I've gone?"

Marion shrugged. "He may do. I should be able to handle him, though, now I know about him. He's going to get a bit of a surprise if he tries anything, isn't he?"

"I hope so. He thinks you're an average woman, after all." She frowned. "I think, for your own safety, that you'll have to go on at least part of the Shepherd's training courses when you start. Especially the parts that deal with self-defence. Other parts of the facility aren't as nice and calm as E Deck are, you know." Belle went to the front door and opened it. "See you later, dear," she said, and closed it behind her.

Marion went to the door and was surprised to find that there was no way to bolt it from inside. That meant that anyone who had card permissions could enter at any time. She supposed that was reasonable given that the occupants were released detainees who might have problems, but it also meant that the supervisor could let himself in when he felt like it. Shrugging, she took her tea into the bedroom and finished packing her things away.

She looked at the male things she had worn when she had been delivered to the facility, and felt a pang, because she knew she would never be able to fit any of them again. Even if her circumstances didn't work out, and she was forced to revert to being male, she doubted whether she would be able to wear them in the future. She folded the garments and put them in a bottom drawer, to be passed on to a second-hand shop or a charity store.

Belle returned, wearing a short straightish plain skirt with a flounce, a close-fitting top with a low neckline and a casual denim jacket. She had brushed her hair and was wearing heels. Marion looked startled when she opened the door, as she had never seen Belle wearing anything but uniform.

"Gosh, Belle, you do look attractive! I've got so used to seeing you in uniform that you almost look like a different person," she said.

"I try," Belle replied modestly. "I spend so long each day wearing that outfit that often I can't wait to get it off and flaunt myself a bit. I take it you approve?"

"Oh, yes, indeed. I was right about you." Marion pulled Belle inside, closed the door and went into a clinch. Their lips met, and for a while they were busy. Finally they broke, and Marion grimaced ruefully.

"This would work better if only one of us had breasts," she said. "I suppose we'll have to work out some arrangement."

"I'm sure it's not going to be a problem," replied Belle. She took Marion's hand and led her back into the living room. "Shall I start getting us some food?"

Belle did the major share of the food preparation, as she didn't want to get Marion tired out handling unfamiliar tools and utensils, but Marion soon adjusted, and a basic but filling meal was cooked and eaten. They tidied away and then sat on the sofa to talk before Belle had to leave.

"Belle, I know next to nothing about you. I don't even know where you live. Come to that, I'm not even sure where we are right now."

"Oh, I've got an apartment overlooking Victory Park. It's about seven tram stops, eight if I go to the local supermarket on the way home. The facility, and this building, is in Highfield. I'm surprised you never knew that."

"When I was sent here I never saw daylight. I had no idea where I was being taken. Come to that, I had no idea where I was to start with. I didn't think I would be told if I asked, once I was inside."

"That's terrible!" Belle said, but nodded. "You're right, though. The State doesn't seem to think that it's necessary for detainees to know much about their surroundings." She shrugged. "I don't suppose it's that important, once you're inside. One facility should be much like another. But let's not talk about work. I do enough of that all day, and you've had six months of it. Let's see what's on the box."

They watched a variety program, and then a news, and then it was time for Belle to leave. She stood up and pulled on her jacket.

"You're going to be okay on your own?" she asked as Marion stood up.

"Yes. I don't expect I'll get much sleep, never do the first night in a strange bed, but I should be all right left to my own devices. I'll miss breakfast thumping into the slot, though. You lot have spoilt me for mealtimes."

"Yes, of course, we've been running round after you, waiting on you hand and foot." She thought. "Actually, we have, haven't we? Hmm. I think I'll recommend some hard labour for the next batch we get. I must be going." Marion walked to the door with Belle.

"Belle," said Marion slowly, "I don't even know your name. You never use anything but your first name inside."

"That's not my first name," she replied, "my full name is Hortense Fleurette Isabelle Marchand."

Marion discovered her mouth was open, and closed it. She gulped, and then said, "I'll be calling you Belle, then."

"Thank you," Belle said quietly, and Marion understood that she had been given the option of calling her something else, a privilege not extended by Belle to many other people.

"Oh, and when you come in the morning," Marion added.

"Yes?"

"Bring some overnight things, won't you?"

Belle dimpled, and said, "Thank you," again, hugging Marion tightly. A fairly full-featured goodnight kiss was exchanged, and then Belle left. Marion retired for her first night of freedom.

Belle turned up the next morning just after Marion had finished a simple breakfast and cleared it away. She was wearing a short, flared skirt this time, paired with a brighter top and her denim jacket. She had restyled her short hair and added makeup to her already attractive face. Marion was overwhelmed.

"Gosh! You look good this morning! I was impressed last night, but it's amazing how much different clothing and a little makeup can change things," Marion said as they went into the living room.

"I've done virtually nothing, actually," Belle replied. "When I'm on leave, I usually dress up a bit. The uniform restrictions are such we don't get a lot of freedom on what to wear inside, so we all tend to cut loose when we're off duty. When you come to one of our parties - and you will be invited, I can guarantee that - you'll need dark glasses so as not to be blinded by the outfits we wear."

"Ouch. You're not filling me with confidence here, you know."

"You'll get used to it," Belle said, encouragingly. "In fact, I deliberately decided to wear this to demonstrate the difference clothing, make-up and hair can make. Consider it your first lesson in the art of being female."

"I'm worried," said Marion. "You've had all your life to learn this stuff, and it's second nature to you. I can't imagine I'll ever get it entirely right. I feel like a total fraud. I understand good clothes, smart outfits, accessories and such, but it never applied to me. I have no idea how any of this applies to the female me."

"We'll take it slowly, to give you time to absorb the information you need. Don't worry, you'll be looked after, as much as we're able to. Now, have you thought about what to do today?"

"We need to stock up on food and household goods first, I think, before we go on any other expeditions. I would have made a list, but I don't have a datapad. Mine got confiscated when I was taken in, and I haven't seen it since. Food, soap of various sorts, cleaning materials. Toilet paper. I didn't realise how much I miss my nice small room on E Deck until I sat on the toilet last night. No wonder detainees have trouble adjusting when they come out."

Belle nodded. "That's a good idea. There's a local store on the corner of the main road, right where I catch my tram. Most of the residents around here use it, so it should be able to fill all those sorts of needs, and it will give you a taste of doing the normal things people do. We'll have to go out later, I think, because you can't keep wearing that suit outside, it's far too recognisable. So I propose a trip to a hyperstore this afternoon, if that's agreeable. There's one I pass on the way home, three tram stops away, so it's not far, and it'll be fairly quiet at that time of day. What do you think?"

Marion let out a big breath. "It has to be done," she said. "I can't say I'm looking forward to it. Let's get this morning's shopping organised. If you don't mind using your datapad?"

The two women left the apartment block and walked up to the main road. At that time of morning, the rush hour had finished and the traffic was fairly quiet. Marion realised that after being in the near-sterile environment of E Deck that she would have to adapt, and quickly, to the bedlam of the outside world. Fortunately she was with a friend who had no intention of letting her be overwhelmed by her enforced change in circumstances.

The local store was actually quite large, and they soon filled a trolley with the necessities of life. Belle explained as they went round the aisles that because Marion lived so close to the facility, and was going to be a member of staff, that she had the option of eating her morning and evening meals there. This meant that if Marion did have a shortage of something to eat, she could always take her meals inside if she felt she didn't want to shop before cooking, or if time didn't permit it.

They lingered for a while in areas that Marlon would have walked straight past in his previous life, hair products, hygiene, make-up, nail care, skin care, jewellery, accessories. There was such a variety even in this local store, and Marion simply didn't have a feel about what was suitable, what was necessary, or even what to do with some of the items. She began to wonder if she had made the wrong decision.

"It'll come, love, it'll come. It's just going to take some time," Belle said encouragingly. "Because you'll be spending most of your time in the facility, most of this is irrelevant. You can experiment a little at a time, and at your own pace. When the time comes, you should have some idea about what suits you, and what you need. Trust me on this, you'll see."

Marion was relieved that no-one in the shop, staff or customers, had taken any notice of her. It looked like, superficially, everyone accepted her for what they assumed she was. Inside, though, she still had a dread that at some point she would be found out. They staggered back to the apartment laden with bags.

After a good lunch, during which Belle warned Marion not to overeat in case her figure went, Marion logged on to her terminal to find out if her account had been updated. It had, and she beckoned Belle over to look at the figures.

"What's that item? Seven month's wages? You were on a good rate even then," Belle commented. "That's more money than I'll ever see, I think, in a lifetime."

"Now who's selling themselves short," asked Marion. "Seven months ago, I could never have predicted this happening. Don't go tempting fate."

"Yes, but look what you had to go through to get to this point," Belle pointed out. "Still, there's going to be no worry affording you a new wardrobe. Are you ready to make a start?"

"No, I'm not. I don't want to do this, Belle," Marion said heavily. "I know I have to, and I know I'm going to be doing this from now until forever, but I've no desire to go shopping at all. Not the sort of shopping we have to do this afternoon."

"Slowly, I said," said Belle, "and slowly it'll be. We'll keep it dead simple today. I'm not going to force you to buy loads of stuff you can't see the point of, but you do need to lay in some basics. Do you agree?"

"I suppose so." Marion switched off the terminal and stood. "Let's be doing it, then, before my cold feet become completely frozen."

They left the apartment and walked up to the main road to wait for a tram. The service was not so frequent at that time of day, so they had to wait fifteen minutes or so, during which time Marion's nerves continued to deteriorate. Eventually one arrived and they made themselves comfortable for the short trip.

The retail park which was their destination was, like most, a series of large warehouse-sized buildings on three sides of an extensive open area, the main road being the fourth. Belle headed for the largest of the stores on the park, Marion reluctantly following.

"I think what we'll do this afternoon is just get you a basic set of items you can mix and match together," Belle said as they walked. "A couple of skirts, maybe three or four tops, and a jacket. Some shoes if you've got any energy left. We'll ignore underwear for the time being, since the facility-provided stuff is perfectly serviceable, and it's all you're allowed to wear when you're on duty anyway. You don't need to completely discard the suit, you can wear the skirt, the blouse and the jacket individually with the items we're going to buy this afternoon and no-one will be the wiser." She considered a moment. "Hmm. The jacket is a bit obvious, I suppose. We'll see. I'm guessing you've no clue as to what you think you might want, in terms of colour or style?"

"No, of course not," Marion replied. "Up till now, after all, all I've been interested in is how good a woman looked while wearing some outfit or other. The idea of me having to consider what I looked like in similar garments just didn't apply."

"Okay," Belle said. "Will you be willing to let me choose things for you, then? I'll try to be objective, because I know that every woman has her own special likes and dislikes, and I don't want to force my own tastes on you."

"I am expecting you to," Marion replied. "A lot of men are quite happy letting a woman choose clothing for them, so I suppose I'm normal in that respect. But I'm sure you'll give me the whys and wherefores of everything you pick out for me, so I can figure it out for myself in the future."

"Indeed I will." Belle held open the door, and they entered the store. Instantly their senses were assailed by the scent from the many cosmetic counters in front of them. Marion immediately wanted to turn round and run, but Belle kept a firm grip on her hand and guided her through to the sections beyond, eventually ending up at the clothing area.

"There's just so much of it," Marion said, her voice low, "how ever do you figure out what to choose?"

"It's horses for courses," Belle explained, "over here are outfits you'd wear to an occasion, like a wedding, or a party, or a trip to the ballet, or something like that. Over there are leisure clothes. There's business wear, day wear, maternity wear, holiday wear, clothes for children, teenagers, seniors, age groups in between, nightwear, lingerie. Footwear, tights, bags, jewellery accessories down that way." She used her arm to indicate the sections she was describing. "You'll soon come to recognise what's useful and what to ignore because it's unsuitable. Over here is what we need today, ready-to-wear day wear."

Marion looked wistfully at the small area reserved for men's clothes, and recognised that she was unlikely to ever need to go there again. She sighed, and followed Belle through the store. An assistant zeroed in on them as they reached the area of Belle's interest.

"Service, citizens," she said. "Do you need any help?" she added, looking doubtfully at Marion's release suit.

"Not at the moment, citizen," Belle replied, "however, I'm afraid we will be looking at quite a few items today. My friend here," she indicated Marion, "has recovered from an illness and is unsure of what suits her any more, so we'll be trying to find out what works and what doesn't. Is that acceptable, citizen?"

The assistant shrugged. "We're relatively quiet at the moment," she replied, "go ahead. I'll be over at the payment desk if you need any help."

"'Recovered from an illness'?" Marion repeated as the assistant retreated.

"If I told her the whole story, we'd still be here when the store closed. It's near enough the truth, if you squint a bit. Let's find you some skirts, first."

As the heap of skirts Belle piled on to Marion's outstretched arms reached double figures, Marion observed anxiously," I thought you said 'a couple of skirts' earlier on, Belle."

"I did," was the reply. "We just don't know which two yet. You'll notice that I've picked a variety of lengths and styles, which you can try on to see what might suit you." She grinned. "Of course, there's no reason why we shouldn't take three if we find three that suit you. Or more."

Still carrying the pile of skirts, they moved on to racks of shirts, t-shirts and light knits suitable for the time of year. Looking critically at the previously chosen skirts, Belle picked her own pile of tops for Marion to try. They headed over to the payment desk.

"Citizens?"

"My friend will be trying these on. Will it be possible to have a cubicle to ourselves, do you think? She has, er, issues, like I mentioned before. It's not as if you're busy just now."

"Well, ah, it's not store policy -" the assistant was obviously reluctant.

"Marion, can you reach your card?" Belle asked. Marion fished it out with her free hand and gave it to Belle, who stuck it into the payment machine on the desk.

"Check the balance, citizen," she instructed the assistant.

That person's eyes grew round as she saw the total, and her manner changed, although she was still confused because she couldn't figure out what was going on.

"Certainly, citizens. I'll make sure you're not disturbed. Come this way."

Once in the cubicle, Marion stripped off the suit and Belle handed her a plain knitted top.

"We'll use this to start you off with, even though it probably won't go with some of the skirts. We just want to get a feel for what kind of shape you've got to start with." Belle passed over the first of the skirts, which Marion climbed into. She stood looking at herself in the full-length mirror.

"I don't know," Marion said miserably. "It sort of leaves me cold at the moment. What am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Um," said Belle. "I keep forgetting that you don't see your body quite the same way an average woman might. Try this, instead. What does Marlon think of the way the woman in the mirror is dressed? Does he think it suits her? Does he think the skirt is too short? Too long? Does it fit properly? Does the colour suit her? Try doing it that way, to start with."

Marion closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them imagined that the mirror was instead a display, showing a woman who she did not know. She found that this disconnect seemed to work, and discovered that she was actually looking at a woman who could be somewhat attractive if she put her mind to it. She turned this way and that, trying to see the woman as other people would see her.

"Yes, that helps," she said. "I'm beginning to get the idea. I think I should try on the other skirts before I decide anything, though."

"Of course! That's what we're here for."

After trying everything on, some items several times, they returned to the payment desk. Marion had chosen three skirts with five tops of various sorts which matched them. Belle had cautioned against buying too much at the start in case Marion's sense of colour and style developed and she ended up with items she didn't want to wear.

"Can you charge these for us, please? We've got to go and find her a jacket yet. We'll be back."

Not only did they find a jacket, similar in style to Belle's but in a dark colour to match two of the skirts, but Belle spotted racks of trousers and insisted Marion investigate those as well. She ended up with a pair of good quality lightweight trousers and a pair of denim jeans.

"You'll find the jeans come in handy," Belle said, "especially once the weather turns. But they're also useful if you're just slopping around or if you're doing something grubby. I tend not to wear jeans or trousers much, because I spend all day in trousers, but there are occasions when they're very useful."

"I like the jeans, actually," commented Marion. "They fit me much better than Marlon's ever fitted him. In fact I'm impressed how much better most of the clothes I tried on fit me than Marlon's clothes ever fit him."

The assistant entered the purchases and then asked, "Do you want to use your coupons for these purchases, citizen?"

"Coupons? What coupons?"

"You have eight coupons, citizen, for clothing, and another two for shoes on your card. The jacket and one of the skirts won't be fully covered by the coupon value, though. Would you be paying the difference, if you decide to use the coupons?"

"I didn't know I had coupons," said Marion, mystified. She waved her arm. "Yes, I might as well make use of them as they're there. Take the extra from my account."

Belle dug into her bag and pulled out a clip of cash. She peeled one of the notes from the wad and handed it to the girl.

"For your trouble, citizen."

"Oh, well, I, if you insist, citizen. Thank you very much for your custom."

Belle and Marion walked away from the payment desk laden with shopping bags. Belle steered them towards the accessories section, and they ended up looking at shoulder bags.

"You definitely need a bag, if you're to be like every other woman. In time you'll have a cupboard full of the things, but for now we'll find you something useful to be going on with. You only managed today because you don't have much stuff to carry about yet and your suit jacket has pockets. Something like that, or this, or this one, perhaps. Do any of them strike a chord at all?"

Marion wrinkled her face. "Really don't fancy that one. That one's not too bad, I suppose. How about those on that other shelf?"

"They're quite good, but a fair bit more expensive. Do you want to spend that amount of money if you don't like it in a month or so?"

Marion nodded. "I understand. What you're saying is that I can make mistakes now, because my judgement isn't fully developed, and I don't want to make expensive mistakes. You're right. I think I'll have this one, it looks as if it should go with some of the items we've bought. What do you think?"

"You're beginning to get the idea. Yes, I think that will do you fine for work or for shopping like this, which is mostly what you're going to be doing for the near future. Let me have it, I'll buy it as a present for you." Marion protested, but Belle insisted.

Goods paid for, Belle suggested that they get a cab to return to the apartment, to save having to carry all the bags on and off the tram. They entered the apartment and Belle went to the kitchen to start making the evening meal while Marion took her purchases into the bedroom to put them away. She had decided to change into some of the things they had bought, but was soon out and into the kitchen.

"Belle, someone's been through my things," she said.

"What? Let me see."

They went into the bedroom and Marion explained her suspicions.

"Just a moment, let me check my overnight bag," Belle said. A few moments was all it needed to confirm that her belongings had been gone through as well. Nothing seemed to be missing.

"It's the supervisor, isn't it?" asked Marion.

"Yes, I imagine so," said Belle, "but he may just be messing with our heads. Nothing's gone, is it?"

"No, but then I've hardly anything he'd want to take in the first place. Once I've bought a few things it'll be a different story, though. I just don't like the thought of his dirty mitts all over my things. What should we do?"

"We'll pop into the facility first thing tomorrow and talk to somebody. We've still nothing concrete to go on. He could claim we're just a couple of women with too much imagination. Let it ride for now."

After dinner Belle insisted that Marion try on everything that had been bought, and she kept up a running commentary on how and when to wear certain combinations, and how certain cuts would enhance or disguise the female figure as required. Marion began to wilt under the torrent of information Belle was trying to teach her.

"It's a lot of work, isn't it, Belle, being a woman. I don't think I realised until today just how much is involved," Marion said as she modelled yet another combination.

"It doesn't seem that way to me," she replied, "but then I've been doing nothing else my entire life, so I suppose I just don't realise I'm doing it. It takes an outsider's viewpoint, like yours, to highlight just how much attention women pay to clothes and appearance. It's like asking a fish how it breathes, it's automatic. Poor thing," she sympathised, "I don't think anyone at the facility realises just how difficult this life-changing transition is for you. I begin to understand just why you've been effectively categorised by the State as 'disabled' now. I'm afraid what we did today barely scratches the surface, and you've got a lot of hard work ahead before it gets easier."

"Thank you for your kind words of support," Marion said half in jest.

"I didn't mean to imply that you're on your own. Everyone in the facility who knows you is fully behind you. I guarantee you'll have all and any support you are likely to need."

"I know it, and it overwhelms me. I don't know how I can begin to repay you all for your help."

"Just keep doing what you did on E Deck, and we'll be more than satisfied," asserted Belle. "If you can do to the other Decks what you did there, you'll more than repay us. How do you feel about what you're wearing now?"

"The top is a bit loose, I think. Why did you pick that size and not the next lower? I think I would have fitted a smaller size better."

"I had a word with Sophia day before yesterday. Your physical transformation isn't yet finished. In some respects, she said, it's as if you've gone through a late female puberty. That means your breasts are still developing. Problem with breasts, as any teenage girl will tell you, is that there's no control over what you'll end up with, or when, you get what you're given. I decided to give you a little breathing room."

"Oh. I hadn't realised that. Thanks for the warning."

"Yes. She said that it could be another year before they're fully formed. After that point, it would be possible to tinker a bit if they are too large or too small."

"Plastic surgery?"

"Yes."

"I'll leave that, I think, for another time. In twelve months I could be a different person again. Time enough then to make decisions for my future."

Marion got tired, and they decided to turn in. Belle had brought one of her 'fancier' nightdresses, which showed the stark difference between hers and the facility-issue one that Marion wore. They both climbed into the double bed.

"Just hold me tonight, Belle. I'm too mentally exhausted to want to do anything else at the moment."

"You have all the time you want, love. I'm content to wait. I'm not going to push you into doing anything you don't want to. Come here, just put your head here." Belle cuddled Marion close.

"This is very strange," said Marion. The smell from the dab of perfume Belle had applied first thing that morning was still distinctive. "I'm doing something familiar, but at the same time it feels completely strange. I wouldn't care to be anywhere else right now, though."

"Good," said Belle, kissing Marion gently. "Good night."