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Author's Note: Here's Chapter Four. This is the moment that the story was building too, the Change. I'd like to thank djkauf for the wonderful editing as always and everyone else who has commented and waited patiently. Things were moving kind of slow before but they'll pick up after this, I hope. Booster Gold and other characters belong to DC Comics.

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Chapter Four:

The beeping of the alarm clock woke me up. I groaned as I opened my eyes, fumbling about looking for the accursed thing. It was one of those loud and annoying ones that sounded like a school bell. You know the type. Well Rick bought me this one for Christmas last year because he was tired of waking my ass up all the time. This morning it was particularly loud and annoying. I groaned and sat up, giving up my blind attempt to find it. I groggily looked around, the blaring sound pounding at my head. For a minute there, it felt like I was hung over again. I finally slammed my hand on it. There was a squeak and it shut up. Finally, some peace and quiet.

I wanted so much to lie back down. that is until I realized what day it was. I groaned, throwing off the covers. Garfield and I have one thing in common, we both hate Mondays. I trudged out of bed, swaying a bit on my feet as I did so. Have you ever had a dizzy spell in the morning? I stumbled a bit, wondering if maybe I wasn’t drunk after all. I groaned, scratched my butt and dragged my feet out into the living room area. Rick was gone but that wasn’t anything new. He took a lot of early morning classes. He said he liked his afternoons free so he could study. Me, I liked the afternoon classes, partially because of my job but they also allowed me to sleep in late. Not that I was going to have much problems on the job front because after this morning---last night? ---I wouldn’t have one to go back to. I’m not sure if that made me happy or really pissed off. I suppose a little of both. For starters, it meant no money, which meant I wouldn’t be able to chip in on the rent. But on the happy side, it meant I’d have more time to pick up chicks. Ok, yes, I had a life changing experience but that’s not going to stop me. As soon as this whole museum thing blew over, I’d be able to get back in the saddle again.

Yes, I’m delusional in the morning. It’s too early to think about the bad things. Ok, so technically, it’s the afternoon but I’m still too tired to think about that stuff. Not until after my shower at least.

I walked into the bathroom, feeling a swaying on my chest that shouldn’t have been there. I was still too groggy to think about it though. Was it possible to spontaneously gain weight over night? I walked over to the toilet, pulled down my boxers and paused. It took me about ten seconds to process what was wrong and then I screamed. I screamed at the top of my lungs and what came out of my mouth was as shrill as the best Scream Queens could muster. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. I stuck my hands down my pants but there was no doubt about it. It’s gone. Little Booster had flown the coop. I panicked, stumbled backwards into the shower. I tripped over my boxers, falling on my ass.

As soon as I landed, something on my chest flopped up and down. I looked down and screamed even louder this time. On my chest, for the whole world to see, were two huge mounds. I closed my eyes, my breathing erratic and labored. This isn’t happening; this isn’t possible. I snapped one eye open at a time, squinting down. Maybe I’m dreaming. But when I opened my eyes all the way, they were still there. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. They were breasts. Breasts on my chest. How was that even possible?

I clamored to my feet, kicking off my boxers. This had to be a joke. I laughed out loud, not registering the fact that even my laugh was different. Rick was getting me back for last night’s stupidity. The breasts, they had to be fake. The vagina down below too. Not that I knew it was one but lack of you-know-what usually means the other thing, right? There were shops who sold this kind of stuff, I mean for guys who wanted to be girls. Not that there was anything wrong with that. But Rick had a wicked sense of humor. I reached up and cupped my breasts; they had to be close to D cups. They were lifelike prosthetics. I gave them both a good squeeze and this sensation went crawling through my body. It was incredible. How in the hell did he pull that off? It kind of scared and excited me at the same time.

I gave them a tug and screamed again. It hurt like hell. Ok, so he glued them on. They sell that stuff too. I tore the shirt over my head and looked down, hoping to see the seams. There were none. In fact, they looked life like, even the nipples. I reached up and tweaked them, sending another wonderful sensation through my body. Oh God. I shuddered, nearly falling over. What the hell did Rick do to me?

I ran over to the mirror, maybe I couldn’t see the seams looking down at them. But as soon as I looked into the mirror, I nearly fainted. What in the hell? Staring back at me was not my normal, gorgeous self. Looking back at me was a drop dead gorgeous chick, with sparkling blue eyes, long blonde hair and most kissable lips I’d ever seen. Looking at her made me want to screw her brains out. I reached up and touched my face. The girl in the mirror did the same. How did Rick pull this off? I’ve heard of some wicked pranks but this was absolutely ridiculous. The worse thing was I couldn’t see any seams. I tried tugging on my boobs again but it still hurt like hell. Realization seemed to dawn on me just then. But it wasn’t possible, things like this don’t happen.

I stepped away from the mirror and felt light headed. Guys don’t change into chicks. The world rushed around me as I collapsed unconscious to the floor.

________________________________

“Mike” The voice was dull, like a low thumping in my ears. “Mike, where the hell are you?”

I opened my eyes, groaning. For a second I didn’t know where I was until I looked around. Then I remembered. I was in the bathroom. I sat up, realizing that I was naked. Then I realized something else too. I groaned; looking down at the fake breasts attached to my chest. Yes, I’m still convinced this was some kind of cruel joke perpetrated by Rick. I groaned again. That was the voice I just heard. I used the bathtub to push myself to my feet, scooping up my shirt as I did so. I turned and looked at the mirror, still unable to fathom how he was able to pull such a thing off.

I pulled the shirt over my head and walked to the door, opening it slowly. Rick was in the living room, sitting on the couch. I took a deep breath, clearing my throat in the process. He snapped around and looked at me. At first, his eyes roved up and down then he turned away as if embarrassed about something. What the hell was that all about?

“Oh God, I’m sorry” he clicked off the TV and got to his feet, still not looking at me.

“Dude, this isn’t funny,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. Whoa, he even did something to them to make them appear bigger. HE was really going all out.

“No its not” he said, looking away. “Mike is…”

“Really pissed off” I finished.

He nodded, finally looking at me. “I’ll bet. Being cooped up in here must be crazy. I bet he didn’t even read my note.”

“What note?” I asked, walking into the room.

Rick snatched the note off the table, holding it out to me. His face went red and he turned away. I rolled my eyes. Boy was he really loving this. I snatched it from his hand, scanning it quickly. It was him telling me not to leave the house and not let anyone in here. I crumbled it up, tossing it aside.

“Like that’s going to stop me.”

Rick sighed. “Did you just wake up?”

I shook my head. “Yes and no. I kind of woke up in a fog. I stumbled into the bathroom and discovered this” I waved to my body, shaking my head. “I wasn’t happy.”

“I’ll bet” he said “uh, where are your clothes?”

I laughed. “I didn’t put any on yet.”

“That’s a relief,” he said, sighing. “For a minute there I thought he took them with him. He’s done that before.”

What the hell was he talking about? “Are you referring to yourself in the first person now, Rick?”

He looked at me again. “You know my name?”

“Duh” I said. What the hell was wrong with him? I’m the one who just fainted and hit my head. “You did real good work with this by the way. How the hell did you pull it off.’

All the color drained from his face. “Oh God, it was a date rape drug!”

“You drugged me!”

He took a step back, holding up his hands as I advanced on him. “I didn’t do this, he did. I wasn’t even here all morning. I still can’t believe he slipped you one during the day though. Usually those things are done at night, in a night club or something.”

Who the hell was this “he” that he kept referring too? Speaking from experience---hey it happened only once and I was young. “You can give them any time of the day but it’s better at night when the girl is real drunk…”

No, I didn’t rape her. I slipped her the pill in her drink and she passed out in my car. But I chickened out. I think it was that pesky conscience of mine. When she woke up, I helped her back to her house, told her parents she got a little drunk. The next day I sent her a huge bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. I sent her flowers and chocolates the whole month. I never did anything stupid like it again. Hey, I’m a player, not a monster.

Rick walked over to the couch again and sat down, burying his head in his hands. “Look let me call you a cab, it’s the least I can do. When Mike gets home, I’ll kick his ass for you.”

Wait, what? “What do you mean when I get home?” I said angrily. “I’m right here, you dick head.”

Rick snapped around, staring at me. He stared for a long time and then he burst out laughing. He laughed for a while, nearly falling off the couch. I finally glared at him, which shut him up real quick.

“What kind of idiot does he take me for?”

“It depends you jack ass on what kind of idiot you take me for” I walked over to him, looming over him, my hands still on my wide hips. “How in the hell did you pull all this off anyway. The boobs and the vagina are good but the hair, the face, and even my voice. It’s absolutely incredible. I didn’t think something like this was even possible.”

He stared at me as if I’d grown a third head. “You’re a real good actress. I’m not sure why Mike is fucking with me but you can tell him the joke’s over.”

He stood up and patted me on my shoulder.

I groaned. Before I towered over him but now we almost saw eye to eye. How in the hell? Rick was five nine, it wasn’t possible? The color drained from my face this time. I took a step away from him, my heart pounding in my chest, my palms sweating. I felt light headed and stumbled, nearly falling over the glass coffee table as I sat on the couch. It wasn’t possible. Looking at Rick now, I knew without a doubt that he had no idea who I was and if that was the case then all of this was real…I couldn’t breathe, I started gasping for air.

He jumped to his feet and was at my side in an instant. He did his best to comfort, grabbing my now dainty looking hands, gently stroking them. His next words sealed the deal for me: “Miss, are you all right?”

Something popped. I’m not sure what it was but I started to cry. The last time I’d ever cried was at my father’s funeral. I tried to be a man but I couldn’t help it. My mother tried to reassure me it was ok to cry when one was sad but men didn’t cry. My father told me that once. We were in the garage and he cut his finger with a screwdriver. I asked him if he was hurt and he said yes. Then I asked him why he wasn’t crying and he told me “Real men don’t cry.” Ok so my father was kind of an ass but I took that philosophy to heart as well. So my mother wasn’t a very good judge of character when it came to men but at least she tried to do right by me.

I finally found my voice, struggling through my sobs. “You think I’m some girl that Mike hired don’t you?”

He smiled. “At first I thought you were one of the bimbos he usually brings home with him” he said with a laugh. I wanted to punch him but he was half right. I brought home the dumb girls because they were easier to fool.

“I’m not a bimbo,” I sobbed, unable to control it. What the hell was wrong with me? “I’m not some girl that Mike hired either. I am Mike.”

Rick laughed. “You’re still acting on about that.”

“I’M NOT ACTING!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, my voice shrill and girly.

He sighed, wincing slightly at my scream. He nodded but I could tell by the look on his face that he didn’t believe me. He was a man of science and facts. The only way he’d believe me is if I showed him proof. So I took a deep breath and tried the logical approach first:

“They call you Rip, not because you got torn off your surfboard on vacation and nearly drowned in a rip tide like you told everyone here. They call you Rip because you split the seat of your pants during your first dance with a girl in sixth grade because your pants were too tight.”

The look on his face was genuine. But he shook his head. “I’m going to kill Mike. He swore he’d never tell anyone that.”

I groaned. “I didn’t tell anyone that, you dumb ass.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

I groaned. There was only one other thing I could do to prove I was me. I pushed away his hands, wiped the tears from my eyes and stood up. I took a deep breath and turned around, lifting up the shirt to show him my butt. He turned away at first until I cleared my throat, causing him to look. What he saw confirmed I was telling the truth. There were only two people in this world alive who knew what I showed him: Rick and my mother. Ever since I was born I had a birthmark on my butt, it wasn’t very big but it was kind of embarrassing because it was in the shape of a teddy bear. Rick saw it last year when we were in the pool house showers at his family’s estate. The two of us were getting dressed and my towel slipped. He’s the only one besides my mother who knew of its existence and I swore him to secrecy on threat of his life.

I heard an intake of breath then he fell backwards in his chair. I dropped the shirt and turned to him, smirking. He stared at my face then looked up and down my whole body. I let him get a good view before I say back down on the couch, huffing, blowing a strand of hair from my face. There was no way I was going to get used to all this hair.

Neither of us said anything for a long time. He kept staring and I just sat there, wondering which one of us was going to break the silence. At least I stopped crying, thank God.

Finally, he broke the silence: “I don’t understand.”

I sighed. “That makes two of us.”

“You’re really Mike?”

“Do I have to flash you again?”

He shook his head, blushing a bit. “You’re definitely Mike all right. The question is, how did this happen?”

I stood up and started pacing. He watched me, his eyes the only thing moving. I tried to ignore it but it was kind of creepy, especially when they went from one place to the other. It was only two places too: chest and legs. Finally, I got sick of it and stopped; tugging on the end of my shirt, wishing to God it was a whole lot longer. My pacing was an attempt to come up with an answer but I had nothing. I turned to him, searching his face for some sign that his brain was functioning. I knew exactly what he was thinking. Hey, I saw myself in the mirror; I knew how hot I looked. But this was neither the time nor the place for that. In fact, it was never going to be the time or place for that. At least not with him or any other guy.

“You’re the smart one Rick” I finally huffed. “What do you think?”

He didn’t say anything for a while. He had that look on his face he sometimes got when he was doing homework. At this particular moment, it was there for a while. That look always used to annoy me because it made him look like he was so much better than everyone else. When it finally went away and he spoke, I’m not sure if I was relieved or not.

“I have an aunt who works at STAR Labs a few miles from here. She’s a geneticist; she knows her stuff really well. I think maybe I should give her a call and see if she’d be willing to see you.”

All I could do was nod. Rick talked about STAR Labs a lot. In fact, it was his dream job. He could spend hours talking about this and that. They were apparently one of the leading research facilities specializing in everything. It was definitely the ideal work environment for an Egg Head like him. If anyone could tell us what was going on it would definitely be them. The question was would they be willing to even see me. I mean how often do guys change into girls. Maybe they’d think I was some kind of freak and not want anything to do with me. Or maybe it’d be the complete opposite and they’d want to dissect me. That one sent a shiver up my spine.

“You sure calling your aunt is the best idea?”

He nodded, walking over to the phone. He picked it up, holding his hand up to silent my protests. I watched as he dialed the number and got her voice mail. “Aunt Jenet, its Rick. I’d really like you to give me a call when you get this message. My friend has a problem and I was wondering if maybe you could help him with it.”

He hung up the phone. “You think she’ll call back?”

He shrugged. “She’s intrigued by problems so I think this will pique her curiosity.”

I nodded. Then I shifted my body, trying best to figure out how to sit. I am, after all, only wearing a shirt. I tried a few different poses but no matter what I tried, the shirt wasn’t really that long and no matter how I sat, certain things down below were hard to hide. I caught Rick looking and trying not to look. I think it was making both of us embarrassed. Finally I got to my feet, fed up with trying to find the proper way to sit.

“I think I need some clothes.”

“Can you wear any of your old stuff?”

I shrugged. “I doubt it.”

He sighed. “I guess I can go out and buy you some more.” He looked me up and down again, looking kind of nervous. “Umm, what do you think your sizes are?”

I looked down and smiled. I was usually pretty good at sizing women up; it was a gift. I looked at my boobs then turned and looked at my butt, finally taking a long look at my hips. I turned to him and rattled off the measurements. He looked flustered at first but then grabbed a pen and paper. He scribbled down what I told him. Then he grabbed his coat and house key, making his way toward the door.

He turned to me before he left. “Don’t open this for anyone.”

I rolled my eyes. “Duh.”

“And stay away from the TV.”

“Why?”

“You won’t like what’s on it.”

I sighed but nodded. He smiled and left. I waited until I heard him walk down the hall toward the elevator before I ran over to the coffee table and picked up the remote. I clicked the TV on; Rick had it on one of the local news channels when I walked in earlier from the bathroom. I groaned as I saw the scene. It was an exterior shot of the Field; there were a bunch of police cars and news vans parked outside in front of it. There was a huge crowd too. The volume was down but I didn’t need not turn it up. The pretty brunette newscaster, Rose Jenkins---she was really hot---was talking. I didn’t need to know what she was talking about to know it was bad. What shocked me even more was when a picture of me flashed on the screen. It was my work ID photo.

I turned the volume up to catch the last bit: “Michael “Booster” Carter, Northwestern football hero, is wanted for questioning. The police will neither confirm nor deny if Carter is their main suspect but a figure matching his description was seen fleeing the scene of the crime.”

Crime, what crime? I didn’t steal anything.

Then something else flashed on the bottom of screen. FIELD MUSEUM THEFT. PRECIOUS STONES STOLEN FROM GEM HALL. What the hell was this? I didn’t steal anything. I mean I tried to steal it but I failed. Joey and Hank would testify to that. What the hell was going on? I angrily grabbed the remote and shut off the TV.

“SON OF A BITCH!” I shouted, letting it all out.

There was a metal pencil holder sitting on Rick’s desk. It rattled about and flew across the room, slamming into the far wall. I jumped in panic. What the hell was that? I looked around the room, maybe it was a gust of wind.

I shook my head. I think I need to go back to bed. Or…I looked back toward the bathroom. I smiled; maybe a nice hot shower could help clear my head.

__________________________________

I stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel off the toilet.

Did you know that it feels much better to pat this body than to rub it? I tried rubbing a few seconds and it was kind of harsh on my skin. But patting my body dry with the towel, it felt fantastic. I know I shouldn’t probably be thinking this but this body had all this wonderful feelings. When I first stepped into the shower and the hot water hit my body, it was like an orgasm times a thousand. The feeling was so overwhelming I nearly fell to my feet. It took everything in my power not to play with myself. I’ve heard about how girl orgasms were supposed to be ten times stronger than but I thought it was a lie they told to get more pleasure out of sex.

Boy was I wrong.

As I finished toweling off, there was a knock on the door. At first, I thought it was the bathroom but it was too distant. The knocking repeated. I groaned. I could swear Rick left with his key. I took the towel and involuntarily wrapped it around my body, like most women did. I opened the bathroom door and skipped across the room to the front door. Yes I skipped, don’t ask me why? I didn’t bother looking through the peephole when I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open. Man I wish I had. I gasped, so did the guy on the other side. His eyes quickly snapped away, looking anywhere except at the girl draped in the towel who stupidly opened the door for him. I cursed. I just broke the only rule that I had.

“Sorry to disturb you, miss” he said, his voice soft, his head turned slightly away.

I looked his up and down. There was no doubt who he was. He was dressed in a gray suit and there was a slight bulge on his left side. I groaned, this was all I needed. “How can I help you, umm Detective?”

He reached into the inside of his coat, took out his wallet and flipped it open. His early embarrassment disappeared, replaced by a serious stone cold confidence. “Special Agent Broderick, FBI.”

Damn it. It was a Fed, this was all I needed. What’s worse was that he was a pushy Fed. He didn’t even bother to wait for me to invite him in. He snapped his badge shut and brushed me aside, stepping into the room. He even shut the door behind him. All I could do is follow him in and watch as he glanced around a bit, nodding here and there. This guy was already pissing me off.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Michael Carter.”

“He’s not here.”

The FBI Agent continued to walk around the apartment a bit; looking in the bathroom I vacated then walked over and peered into my open bedroom door. Who the hell did this guy think he was? I followed closely at his heels, so close that when he turned around he nearly ran me over.

“We both know that’s wrong, Miss” he finally said, pushing me aside again. “Mr. Carter didn’t show up for class this afternoon and I know he came here last night after the officers left. In fact, according to building security, he came here while the officers were present. He slipped through a back entrance and hid on one of the lower floors until the black and white left.”

I inwardly cursed. I forgot this place was high class enough to have cameras everywhere. I bit my lip, thankfully he didn’t notice. “He was gone when I woke up.”

Broderick looked me up and down. He was an older guy, probably in his forties, a couple of inches taller than me. There was a little steel gray at his temple and worry lines all over his face. This was a guy who spent too much time on his job. Clearly, he had his own methods too and they were a little invasive if you ask me.

“You the girlfriend?”

I sighed. “Yuck, no” Shit, now what. I bit my lip again. “I’m his sister.”

Where the hell did that come from?

He turned and looked me up and down. “I guess I can see the family resemblance. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions, Miss Carter.”

“Its Mi...My…Myka, actually.” Great let’s just keep digging that hole. “And actually I do mind. This isn’t my place and I don’t appreciate being interrogated by complete strangers, especially wearing only a towel.”

Maybe if I play the bitch I can get rid of the bastard. Hey, as long as I had the body I might as well try to use it.

He smiled thinly. “You’re not embarrassed to be seen dressed like that or else you wouldn’t have answered the door.”

I groaned. Who the hell was this guy?

Then he launched into the questions. He didn’t even bat an eyelash at my comment. First, he wanted to know all about Mike---I mean me---hey, it’s hard when you’re pretending to not be yourself. He asked stupid questions at first: like where I was, what I was doing last night, that sort of thing. But he knew all that already so I think he was trying to trip me up. Then he wanted to know about me. Luckily, for this jackass I was quick on my feet this morning. I made up a fake story for my fake sister. Apparently, I was a senior in high school, visiting from back East. I arrived yesterday morning and would be staying with my brother and his roommate for a few days while I look at possibly coming to Northwestern next year.
Hey, I thought I was pretty good.

Broderick one upped me. “So if I call your mother and ask her about you being out here, she’ll confirm all this?”

I bit my lip. I never actually thought the jackass would follow up on any of it. “Of course. I’m not sure if you’ll get her because she’s really busy but you can try.”

“And your brother. When was the last time you saw him?”

I shrugged. “We bumped into each other briefly yesterday morning.”

“Briefly? He didn’t pick you up at the airport. You being his baby sister and all?”

Who the hell was this guy? “I’m a big girl; I don’t need my brother holding my hand everywhere I go.”

He dropped that line of questioning. “So you haven’t seen him at all since you “bumped” into him?”

“I haven’t seen him but we spoke briefly on the phone. He called me from practice and told me he wasn’t coming home in-between there and work because he had some errands to run.”

Boy, I was digging myself deeper and deeper, for both my identities. But thankfully, Broderick didn’t seem to pursue it. He asked me some more little questions and looked around the room once more. I think he thought I was hiding myself somewhere---how weird is that to think that this guy was looking for you and you were standing in front of him. He asked to check the bedrooms just to make sure that “Mike” wasn’t hiding anywhere. But I humored him and opened both doors, following him in as he looked. He checked under the beds and in the closets.

“You’re sleeping in your brother’s room?” he asked, looking at the backpack on the floor.

I nodded. “Mike is taking the couch while I’m here. Well, he would if he slept here.”

Shit, why did I say that? Broderick didn’t pursue it. He just nodded and allowed me to show him out of my room. He took another quick look around the living room and was done, finally.

“Well Miss Carter, if your brother shows up I want you to give me a call” He reached into his jacket and took out a business card. “It's very important that I talk to him as soon as possible. There are some things he and I need to discuss and soon.”

I took the card and smiled. “I’ll give it to him as soon as I see him.”

He smiled back and I led him out the door. I watched him walk to the elevator and waited until he got on before I shut the door and dead bolted. I leaned my back against it and slumped to the floor. Holy shit, that was too close. I sat there for a while, not caring that I was still dripping wet and wrapped in a towel. I didn’t move until I heard Rick’s key in the lock. I jumped up and as soon as he opened the door---bags in hand---I wanted to jump in his arms and cry. Don’t ask me why? Instead, I sighed and walked over to the couch, sitting on the end of it.

“You look like someone punched you in the face,” he said as he set down the shopping bags and shut the door behind him.

“You and I have a problem.”