Sometimes you walk the Wild Side, but sometimes the Wild Side comes looking for you!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. None of the characters, places, or anything else is meant to be represented by anything in reality. Duh! Fiction, get it? I the author reserve the rights, so please don't go posting this anyplace else without my permission. A very special thanks goes out to Cathy and all the others out there in BCTS land who have encouraged and inspired me to write and keep writing. Another round of thanks goes out to djkauf who is the fastest proofer I've ever encountered. Any remaining mistakes are all mine.

Along at last, I removed my photos from their hiding place. The first was that of a beautiful Elvish woman, a morwyn. Her piled high hair held in place with jeweled combs is so platinum blond it's like gleaming silver wire. She's dressed in a fall of green shimmering silk and more jewels that still managed to accent every curve despite her slender form. What perhaps is out of place is her expression of utter surprise and shock.

Smiling at the memory, I look at the next one. While the first one was taken in the Gate terminal, even Elves could only do so much to make such a place inviting, this one was taken in the Market Place. The same morwyn is here too, but she's lost her surprise and replaced it with wide-eye wonder.

She's also been joined by a tall Elven man, a dyn, who although he shared her same slim build, there was no doubt he was masculine with his Earth styled t-shirt and tight jeans showing off his runners' physique. In the picture, he, Owen was showing her a native fruit, a mefus, which although kinda like a strawberry was pure tart sweetness. It also cost an arm and leg on Earth being one of those things that could be imported without being 'adjusted' by traveling between universes.

I took a long slow deep breath knowing which one came next.

It was the same pair again, but this time they were in a kiss that couldn't be described other than passionate.

Like every time before, I tented my jeans requiring some 'rearranging' to make things comfortable again. And yet again, I was acutely embarrassed about my reaction. I was guy damn it!

I lowered my head, banging it softly on the table.

Earlier that day.

On the way, back to my dorm room, I got jumped by Angel and Kimmie. “Hey John,” The multicolored haired Angel giggled, “How did you do?”

She took one arm while her partner in crime took my other. Kimmie might be on the short side, but she had more energy than room full of hyperactive first graders. “Yeah, how did your Sadistics test go?”

Even though my brains were thoroughly fried I managed to smile. “Statistics,” I corrected her. “And yes, I think I did pretty well.” She should know since she tutored me passed the bad parts. Art students and math are things that does not go good together. The good news were that was my last mid-term. All that was left was to pack up the rest of my stuff for Spring Break.

Winning that bet with Mary and not collecting on it was about the best thing to ever happen to me, at least socially. After my trip through the Gate, I realized that she and the rest of those I mistakenly thought was my friends were indeed having fun, but at my expense. As a starving student on a scholarship, I didn't need that kind of crap. I'd even photo-shopped a picture of a rather homely goblin to make it look a little like me. I am an art major after all. They got their jollies and picked some other poor smuck to bedevil.

However, that also earned me some cred with some of the other women on campus. For the first time in my life women started coming to me. I can't say I didn't take advantage of the situation, but I also didn't go crazy. I went on some dates and I think all involved had a good time. If there were any complaints they never reached my ears.

That was how I met Angel and Kimmie. Curious about the 'nice' guy, they kinda checked me out. I think we were all surprised when we hit it off. In fairly short order we started hanging together. Oh yeah, despite the speculation about threesomes, nothing like that ever happened. They did tease me about it a lot, but that was all it was. Like I said, they were partners, a couple as well as being my friends.

Now if they made a serious move, I would have to re-think my position, but their friendship was far too valuable to me to do something bonehead stupid.

“So still no Spring Break plans?” Angel asked leading me back to the dorms.

I had time to only shake my head no before Kimmie hit me from the other side.
“You could always come with us. We're heading to Key West.” She was nearly bouncing up and down from excitement.

“You could share our room.” Angel huskily added suggestively double-teaming me.

I stopped and looked hard at them as they put on their best angelic innocent faces.

“You're teasing me again.” I accused the pair of minxes.

Laughing, Angle held up two fingers. “Well, a little. We talked about it.”

Kimmie picked up the rest. “We think we can trust you to behave, and it would be fun to have you there with us. It'll be great!”

I had to laugh along with them, however. “I thank you both for thinking about me, but three would be crowd. However, if you two ever really do seriously considered more, please remember I'm clueless and just might need to be clubbed over the head.”

“Oh, that could be fun!” Kimmie cooed as Angel lightly punched me in the arm.

A couple of real party-animals passed us heading for their rides in the parking lot. “Spring Break here we come!” was their battle cry. They were in such a hurry, they almost ran down another dude wandering around as if lost. Probably just an off-campus boyfriend I figured or perhaps a brother here to pick someone up. As for the assholes, I have no idea why they were in such a hurry. Being here in Tampa, they were already close to the beaches.

The girls gave me hugs as they left on their own adventure. I didn't miss the glances as they departed. I have to admit I wondered more than a little about the possibilities. Que Sera Sera, I decided.

My roommate, Alan, had already departed leaving last night. It'd been nice to have the place to myself despite the crunch of having a mid-term in the morning. On the other hand, I didn't have any plans unlike the majority of my fellows. My pizza delivery job pretty much dried up when the campus was empty.

That was when I dug out my pictures. Yes, my pictures, pictures of me.

Sioned was what Owen had named me. It meant the same thing as my Christian name, John, blessed by Gawd. I'd been kissed by a man, well, a dyn anyways, and loved every minute of it. Besides I wasn't fooling myself for a second. If I had the chance to go back, I would be gone in a heartbeat.

That is disregarding it was Spring Break that is. Tampa was lucky in having a Gate terminal. Finding congruent areas on both worlds that were good locations was not easy. Sure the gross terrain mostly matched up in both universes, but what was prime real estate in one might not be so in the other.

Hey, trust me! The hunt for good sites was still going on. With good ole planet Earth in an economic 'down turn' having an entire other world open up for new markets was a gift from heaven. Sure some things got 'adjusted' into not so nice products, read that was worthless, but when they made it though....

Let me put it this way. Millionaires were being made and broken every day it seemed. No one knew just what would be a hot selling commodity, and then there were the luxury items. Christie's Auction House was doing one hell of a lot of business. An Elf doesn't think anything of putting 25, 50 or even a 100 years into weaving a rug. Add in the exotic patterns and themes, and you my friend have a priceless work of art.

And don't think the Elves aren't getting anything out of it either. They tend to magic their problems instead of building things. Need a new house? Let’s just take this young tree and convince it grow into a three bedroom, two bath bungalow. Sure it might take 20 years, but for an Elf that's no time at all. Saying they take the long view is not even coming close. Being introduced to mass-produced machined goods were a real eye opener for them.

As good as that was, the real consumers on The Wild Side are the other natives. Goblins, Brownies, and those were the ones off the top of my head. The former are nuts about licorice, and the later are crazy about Earth sports. I don't think anyone has a real idea of how many Brownie baseball leagues have popped up; think kid sized sports gear and a whole lot of it.

If anyone ever works out just how the 'Adjusting' decides what will and what won't pass, they'll be a billionaire. Some ideas on the subject seem reasonable, but just don't pan out in the real world. You know, like if it could be made in that world, then if should get a pass. My leather portfolio is very nice, but when Owen purchased it to hold my pictures, it'd been a light silk covered wooden case that I suppose did the same function.

That had been a work of art, while what had arrived back home with me was merely functional no matter how nice. Not that I would be getting rid of it.

There were … Memories.

I shook my head trying to clear it.

No, I couldn't go back because this was a prime holiday and the tourist traffic would be thick and heavy. The Tampa Gate having both a port and a major airport nearby stayed very busy. Even though the TSA had bent over double not wanting to alienate the world's newest trading partner, the Wild Side was still another 'nation' and you needed passports and visas to make the trip.

I breathed out. Just after I'd returned from my first time into the Looking Glass, I'd tried for a visa for Spring Break, but it'd already been too late. A quick day trip in the middle of the week during non-peak times, yes. Spring Break, no; Summer Vacation, no; Thanksgiving, yes, but then my family would kill me for being a no show. And let's not forget that I was on a scholarship and have to work, which cut out visiting during the week. I'm only half-kidding about the starving art student thing. Me and ramen noodles are old friends.

Even if I had somehow managed to get a visa, I would've still been broke. Just because I'd 'Adjusted' the first time into a morwyn with jewels hanging all over me, there was no guarantee that it would happen again. Yes, the odds were in my favor, but a sure thing, no.

The whole instant sex change thing, like what happened to me, was unusual enough, although those people who had gender problems had a greater chance of it happening for some reason. Well, according to what little research I was able to find online that is. However, occasionally it struck out of the blue too. Unless my family was keeping secrets, I wasn't inter-sexed or had any obsessions with women clothing or underwear so that applied to me.

I don't think my artistic bent counts. All the old great masters were men, and even today men dominate the art world although that is changing. On the other hand, just thinking about my family made me cringe. They would freak out. It was bad enough in their eyes that I was an artist which was why I was sending my own self to school.

It didn't even bear thinking about another of those very rare occurrences. Normally, you just changed back to you exactly as you had left. However, sometimes if a traveler had a sex change 'adjustment,' when they returned home they didn't change back! Oh sure they returned to human, but now they needed a certain marker changed on their ID if you know what I mean. As a matter of fact that was one of the very, very infrequent 'Cross-Adjustments' that hit travelers from Earth at all.

My family would freak!

Hell, according to sites I found online, there were even tours to the Wild Side hoping that happened. Mind you, it was still long odds, but when you're talking about stacking the deck with only those it was mostly likely to happen to anyways, the tours usually made at least one person's dreams come true.

Even with those odds, it seemed those tours were very popular. Many of the tourists 'adjusted' to the other gender anyways, they just didn't stay that way on the trip back. One quote had me scratching my head. “Better an ugly woman than a handsome man.” which was attributed to a Goblin woman who had immigrated to the Wild Side.

Taking a hard look at my photos, I sighed. The Wild Side was well named. Since my little walk I'd questioned much about myself that I had once taken for granted. Maybe I hadn't started checking out other guys, thank gawd for small mercies, but I had begun looking at how well women were dressed as much as at the girls themselves.

I'd researched the hell out this as best as I was able given all my previously mentioned obligations. With a Gate terminal right in Tampa, the university's library had a wealth of information about the subject. The problem was the Gate terminals weren't even a decade old yet which meant there was hell of a lot that no one knew.

Of course what I wanted to know was did my trip fundamentally changed who I was. People go back and forth though the Gates all the time and were physically changed by the 'adjusting.' Did that alter who they were on the inside?

It was almost a running joke that you never knew what the 'adjusting' would do to someone. One famous Hollywood leading man had 'adjusted' into about the ugliest Kobold anyone had ever seen, while a little known plus-sized model had become famous by writing a book, “I told you I was skinny on the inside,” after she'd became a slim Sylph.

It was tempting to say that your inner self was revealed, but other evidence appeared to contradict that. At any rate, after a visit to the Wild Side, everyone agreed that you were still you, and no personality alterations or mind control had taken place. About the only thing that I'd found that suggested differently still didn't help that much.

An artist that I greatly admired had 'adjusted' into a Troll. Rather than the embarrassment most people had after becoming the huge ungainly creature he'd laughed and called it wonderful. Returning home, his art had taken another direction with some of the most dazzling landscapes I'd ever seen. He'd explained it all by saying, yes, the 'adjusting' had changed him permanently by giving him insight into a part of himself he'd never knew existed before.

Had that happened to me? Was some part of me Sioned and always had been? Had that she been hidden within me all this time?

My navel picking at the meaning of life and my existence was interrupted by knocking at my door. Sliding my pictures out of sight, I yelled out, “Hold on. I'm coming!”

Opening the door, it was that guy the party animals had almost ran over. He was taller than me, and had the kind of face you expected to see on a actor or male model. The pricey name-brand t-shirt, jeans and cross-trainers gave lie to his casual look. They probably cost more than the one suit I owned.

Then I look up into his eyes.

Those very blue eyes that rivaled the sky itself.

“Hi, I'm...” He began.

“Owen,” we both said together.

He smiled obviously pleased that I'd recognized him.

I was less happy.

“You can't be here!” I exclaimed. My thoughts were racing at a million miles a minute. With everyone intent on their own Spring Break plans just maybe no one would connect him with me.

“Why not,” Owen asked, still smiling as I dragged him inside out of sight.

“How did you find me?” I demanded not even wanting to get into how flustered and confused my feelings were for him. Was it homophobia when it was your own attraction you were afraid of?

“Oh, it wasn't hard.” He said, taking my changing the subject in stride. “I asked for a copy of your visa from my side of the Gate. The difficulty was the journey from the terminal to here. Public-Transportation” He carefully enunciated the unfamiliar phase. “Is interesting, but I don't know how eager I am to repeat the experience.”

“So you just waltzed up and asked for confidential information, and they gave it to you?” Okay so I was a little upset.

“I did ask politely.” Owen defended himself.

My hard stare didn't encourage him to explain himself further.

“Okay,” I finally gave in. He wasn't going to say how he got his hands on my personal information. “Why are you here?”

“I come bearing a gift.” Owen's smile turned into a grin. “For Sioned.” He held out an envelope.

Taking it, I wasn't sure if I wanted to open it or not.

Finally under his hopeful expression, I sighed. Why the hell why not?

I had to blink a few times realizing just what I was holding. It was impossible!

“When I learned that you did not have a return visa despite having time available during Spring Break, I took the liberty of arranging one for you.” Owen crossed his arms pleased with himself.

Holding the visa in shock, I suppose he should. There was no way this was real unless someone with serious pull arranged it.

“Just who are you, Owen?” I demanded. “And don't tell me 'just a curious traveler' either! This took some serious clout.” I waved the stamped papers with their official seals.

“You don't like it?” He asked his smile fading a little. “I thought you would enjoy our time together more if we were on the Wild Side.”

“Yes, I do like it.” My rattled brains made it hard for me to think. “But that still doesn't explain why you're here much less why this gift!”

“Well, you see.” His smile kinda tilted on its side as it returned. “About a month ago I met this girl, and I can't get her out of my mind.”

I caught the accent he was trying fake as well as the movie line. That didn't help keep me from blushing. “In case you haven't noticed, 'Singin' in the Rain' doesn't work. It's sun-shining outside.”

Because most electronic gadgets didn't work on the Wild Side, older movies on real film did get past that universe’s high standards. At first they were the classic stuff, most of it not in very good condition, but the many races of the Wild Side ate it up. A lot of them had learned their English from those old films.

He just stood there.

Awww hell.

I grabbed the rest of my stuff that wasn't already packed up, stuffing it in my bags. There were things that I didn't dare leave in my room unattended for a week.

“Alright,” I announced, “I'm ready. I've just got to take this stuff to my car.”

Then I stopped, blushing again.

There was Owen flipping though the pictures of us, I mean Sioned, damn it. He did stop at the photo-shopped Goblin I'd passed off as my Wild Side alter-ego raising a brow in question.

I wanted to rip my pictures right out of his hands, but that would mean touching him. In no way shape or form was that going to happen. Okay, not on this side of the Gate at least. My feelings were so all over the damn place that I did not trust myself at all.

“That's the fake one I came up with to satisfy the bet and curiosity of those who weren't my friends after all.” Somehow I kept my voice steady.

Wordlessly, he tugged a locket out from underneath his t-shirt. With a flick, it opened revealing a morwyn I knew so very well, me.

Choking back a sob and tears, I really, really didn't trust myself now. I'm not gay. I'm not, damnit!

Owen's slight nod showed me he understood. Together, we lugged my baggage to my beat up old Taurus. It was the hand-me-down family car I got when my mom brought her new one, lucky me. The Ford still ran pretty good and had plenty of room for all my art supply boxes, easels, and all the other stuff an art student needs.

Not expecting a passenger, it took me a minute or two clean off the front seat. I kept dropping things and wondered if I was going to explode at any second. I was scared to death someone would see with me with Owen and put two and two together even though there was no reason why they should. At the same time the power of my feelings, which I didn't even want to give a name to, had me in near hysterics.

Then we were finally on the road. It took less than 20 minutes, and then it hit me. I had nothing prepared for a trip, and hadn't even let my parents know the change in my plans. I almost stomped on the brakes, the parking fees! If we were gone for anymore than few hours I wouldn't be able to get my car out of hock.

“What's wrong?” Owen asked after being quiet all this time. My alarm must be easy to see.

“I'm not prepared for any of this.” My hysterics were beginning to get the best of me. “I piled everything from my dorm room into here, for a trip back to my parents not for a Spring Break ...”

Owen's gentle touch almost made me jump right though the roof.

“It's alright. This is a vacation for me too. How do you say it? I have it covered. Just pull into valet parking,” He said soothingly.

“I want to carry my end of this trip.” Please Lord; don't let that come out as a whine.

“You forget.” He reminded me those eyes of his almost making me run off the road. “This is all a gift.”

Following the valet signs, I nearly slammed on the brakes again. “All of this is a gift?” I exclaimed. “I thought that was only the visa! I don't understand all of this!”

“Because this,” Owen touched his locket, “showed me that something happened when I met Sioned.” He took my hand. “Something that I think you felt as well. Because the Lady is having a jest at our expense, it is something best examined on the Wild Side rather than here.”

“Something, huh?” I couldn't deny that. “We don't know anything about each other, and I'm sure you know there is no guarantee you'll ever see her again. I could 'adjust' to a male Orc or Troll this time.”

“Then I'll have a wonderful vacation with my friend learning more about him and he about me.” Owen acknowledged, but I could tell that he didn't think that was going to happen.

Stopping for the valets, they gave my pie-bald old car doubtful looks, as I dug around in the trunk packing a small overnight bag. Grabbing my art satchel, I was ready. The last time I hadn't even taken a sketch pad with me, not this time.

Then my anxiety began again as I worried that someone would recognize me. It didn't matter how I lied to myself, I was almost painfully attracted to the dyn at my side. Just as an experiment, I looked, but none of the guys in the lobby packed with college age guys did anything for me at all. To my vast relief, the scantily clad women with them did.

Only Owen gave me reactions that defied what I believed about myself. Sigh, okay not completely, because I did look as much at their clothes as at the co-ed beauties.

He led me to the desk for returning Wild Siders. Flashing his passport at the woman at the desk he got instant attention. Damn the luck, but I was so distracted by my experimenting, I only got a glimpse at it. Weren't normal Wild Side passports green? Who in the world has gold ones?

Then we were escorted personally to the next cycle of Gate departures. The last time I'd been here the place had been empty with the exception of the always busy freight movers. Today, it was packed with those who wanted a Spring Break walk on the Wild Side. Monitors warned new visitors that the Wild Side wasn't Earth and things you had to watch out for.

Really, the Wild Side referred to the whole universe on the other side of the Gates. In general use, most used it for the world as well, but it really wasn't. With the Elvish name impossible for most human to pronoun most took the easy way out. However, since my last visit I'd learned calling it, or rather she Gaia wasn't a bad translation.

When our escort further guided us to a VIP lounge my curiosity got the best of me again.

“Owen,” I asked trying to be nice. “Just who the hell are you? And don't tell you're just a curious traveler again. We got bumped all the way to the front of the queue and now we're in a VIP lounge.” I found myself whispering since our escort was still around, passing out the usual accident disclaimer forms. You know the deal. Pregnant women shouldn't pass though a Gate, and you enter at your own risk or maybe I should say abandon hope all ye who enter here.

Of course Owen didn't need one, being a returning native, but I did, along with a stiff drink, a very stiff drink.

He hit me with that damn smile again. “But I am!” He protested, but then sneakily changed the subject. “Didn't you need to let your family know your change in plans?”

Sighing, I let our attentive escort show me to the phone. I even tried picking her brain, but there didn't seem to be much there to pick.

“Just another returning VIP,” was her bored reply.

Small blessings that no one was at home, so I just left a message some friends had invited me to go on Spring Break with them. That made me smile remembering Angel and Kimmie. My brains boggled at the very thought of them ever finding out about this. They would tease me to death! However if there was anyone on Earth at all I would trust with this it was those two.

Then it was time to go.

The efficient attendants had us and the other returning Wild Siders though the Gate ahead of the crowd as soon as the lights turned green. Since they in theory knew what to expect they wouldn't gawk at themselves like first timers would and hold up the line.

Owen guided me even as I stumbled a step or two dealing with suddenly being different. I didn't need to look, but I was dying to see anyways. His smile and eyes were sparkling so madly it was a sure thing, Sioned was back.

With only my two small bags, clearing customs was very fast, and before I knew it we were walking out the Wild Side Gate Terminal.

“Can we stop for a moment?” I asked, smiling.

Looking around to make sure we weren't blocking anyone, he said, “Certainly, Sioned.”

I think he took more than a little pleasure in saying that name, my name.

Putting my satchel down since he'd taken my overnight bag, I looked up at him comparing the human he'd been to the Elf he was now. Both were handsome and had that effect on me, but I knew which one I liked best.

“I've been dying to do this since you showed up at my door.” I hugged him as tightly as I could, enjoying without a shred of regret as his arms wrapped around me in return.

Burying his face in my hair, he whispered, “Me too, Sioned, me too.”

“So what now, Owen?” I softly asked.

“Well, the clocks show that we're running only a little faster than Earth now, about two to one.” He pointed out what I'd forgotten to check. “So we have about two weeks to learn about each other.”

“To find out what that something is all about?” I forced myself not to nuzzle him despite the temptation.

His blue eyes looking into mine, he answered, “Yes,” taking my hand into his.

Picking up my mostly unaltered art stuff, we walked outside where he hailed a carriage. No longer did I feel self-conscious about being with or touching him. Being with him felt good and right.

As he helped me aboard, helping me deal with my unfamiliar dress, I was happier than I could ever recall being. As the Goblin photographer hustling for a buck took our pictures, I made a promise to myself to make sure I went home with a veritable book full of photos and memories.

I made a start on them by giving my dyn a kiss at the flash. Hmmm...memories.