If this looks a little familiar, it is! I've started working on a new story in this series, so I thought I'd repost the first two stories here for people who hadn't seen them. So it's a rerun! :)

This is a funny little spinoff of another story I wrote called "Mockumentary." But it's totally okay if you haven't read that one, since the tie-in is pretty simple: this is the pilot episode for the sitcom that the main character ends up starring in. Just to be clear, I wrote this story to be complete and have a nice, satisfying ending...but, since it's meant to suggest the pilot of a TV show, it does end on kind of a "and so, the adventure begins" kind of note. However, I've gone to lengths to ensure that the story can be enjoyed on its own as a standalone "episode."

But basically, this is a playful little romp with a guy stuffing his big boobs into a French maid's costume. :) Enjoy!

My Uncle Fifi

Story by Jenny North
Cover artwork by Fraylim

"Girls! C'mon! You're gonna be late!" Bonnie called up the winding staircase.

Her husband Dave walked into the foyer sipping a cup of coffee and checked his watch. "I thought the bus doesn't get here for another ten minutes?" he asked.

"If you're not early, you're late," Bonnie said simply. "Besides, we're on teenager time."

The younger girl, Madison, was the first to emerge, and came trotting down the stairs wearing her school uniform and carrying her backpack.

"Where's Claire?" Bonnie asked.

Madison shrugged dismissively. "What am I, my sister's keeper?"

Dave gave a knowing glance to his wife. "Teenage sass coming out of a ten-year-old. And you thought private school wouldn't be worth the money."

"Claire!" she yelled. "Move it!"

"I don't know why we bothered to install an intercom," Madison said.

"It made sense at the time," Dave offered. "The house is over ten thousand square feet. I didn't want your mom getting laryngitis."

Bonnie shot him a look that told him he'd be paying for that remark later.

Just then, the front door opened. Rumpled and disheveled as was his custom, Dave's brother Terry walked in, still wearing his favorite clubbing outfit. He removed his sunglasses and took in the familial scene. "Whoa. Family meeting? I usually miss these."

"You're usually asleep," Dave said. "You're up early," he observed.

"Technically, I'm up very late," Terry said with a smile. "What's going on?"

Bonnie looked at him, annoyed. "It's nothing you'd be familiar with, it's called a morning routine. You should try it sometime."

"Ugh. Sounds grueling."

She turned and yelled up the stairs again. "Claire!"

Terry winced in pain, his hangover amplifying her shrill voice. "I thought we had an intercom?"

"I know, right?" Madison interjected.

"Here, I've got this," Terry said. He stepped next to the front door and pressed the intercom button on the wall. "All hands, this...is the captain. We're...encountering a rift...in the space-time continuum. Brace...for impact."

"Oh, God, please stop!" Claire's voice came from upstairs. She rounded the corner and trudged down the stairs, wearing her school uniform. "I hate it when you do that voice!"

"Everyone's a critic."

As she reached the bottom, she paused to look at him. "And Uncle Terry? Seriously, the ponytail is way played out. The 90s look isn't retro, it's just sad."

"Ow!" he replied. "That was unprovoked. And I'll have you know that back in the day, I was rocking the curtained hair look."

Claire shuddered.

Bonnie shook her head and handed lunch bags to the two girls, saying, "And remember to come straight home after school. I need you to help make party favors for the dance tomorrow."

Claire slumped her shoulders in the overdramatic posture often favored by put-upon teenagers. "Mo-om, you're just chaperoning! You don't have to bring stuff. You're killing me."

Dave stepped in. "Don't worry, honey, we'll be totally invisible." Bonnie gave him an annoyed look and he added, "Except for the party favors, which will be totally visible and absolutely amazing."

The two girls stoically accepted kisses from their parents before hurrying out the front door.

"Invisible, huh?" Bonnie asked.

Dave shrugged. "Honey, she's sixteen. She's mortified by everything we do, anyway. There's no need to put extra effort into it," he said as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Well, I'm off to bed!" Terry declared.

His sister-in-law gave him a dirty look. "Any chance you might look for work today?"

"Anything can happen. We live in a quantum universe of infinite possibilities."

"So that's a 'no.'"

He mimed shaking a Magic 8-ball and looking at it. "Outlook not so good."

Bonnie grit her teeth. "You could at least clean the place up a little, seeing as how you've got so much time on your hands."

"Wait, wait, whoa," Terry said. He looked to his brother. "I thought we agreed we were getting another maid? I remember discussing this. You guys would interview, and I'd have veto rights. You know, 'no dogs allowed.'"

Bonnie glared at him in disbelief. "Okay, first, 'we' does not include you. And second, it's your fault that Maria quit, constantly harassing her with all of those puerile come-ons--"

"Wow. 'Puerile.' Someone woke up on the wrong side of the thesaurus today."

Dave interposed himself. "Okay, okay, let's not start this again. Terry will promise to look for work, right? I'm sure he doesn't want to be here any longer than he has to. He's still getting his feet beneath him."

"If his feet were any more beneath him he'd be buried up to his neck," Bonnie grumbled. "Maybe next to a hill of hungry fire ants..."

"And we have to get moving ourselves," Dave interrupted. "We don't want to be late for that investors' meeting."

Bonnie angrily stalked off, muttering to herself.

Dave looked to his brother. "Terry..."

"Look, I'm sorry, man," Terry said. "It's just...it hasn't been easy. Money is tight, y'know?"

"I get it," Dave said. "And it's been great having you around the last several months. But this can't go on, bro."

Terry nodded solemnly and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Okay, first, don't ever use the word 'bro' again. Seriously, I'm telling you this as a friend, you just can't pull it off. And second, you're kicking me out?" he complained. He then paused to consider what he said, then amended, "Wait, check that. Reverse those."

"Look, Terry..."

Terry raised his hand. "No, I changed my mind. I was right the first time. 'Bro' coming out of you is just wrong. That should be number one."

Dave sighed. "I...look, I didn't say I was kicking you out. I'm just saying it can't go on indefinitely."

Terry nodded. "Yeah, 'all good things,' right?" He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Look, Dave, I hate to ask, but...I'm having some trouble covering costs. Anything you can toss my way, maybe a couple grand--"

"Jesus, Terry, again? We talked about this. No. Absolutely not. I'm done with that. You can stay here, but I'm done paying for your gambling."

"It's not that!" Terry objected. Then, seeing his brother's dubious look, he added, "Okay, it is that. But I'm done with it now! It's behind me, these are just...old debts. And you and Bonnie are so flush--"

Dave gave a rueful laugh. "You are unbelievable, you know that? But I couldn't even help you if I wanted. We're all tied up in this merger and Bonnie is watching the books like a hawk. If I stop for a latte she sees the receipt."

Terry threw up his hands. "No, no...I get it. It's cool. No worries, I'll work it out. That's what I do, right?" he said with a confident smile.

Dave just nodded and headed out the door.

Terry stood there for a moment before pulling out his cell phone and dialing a number. "Ray? Hey, it's me. Yeah, I am totally screwed."

Terry sat on the couch in the game room, playing a video game while his friend Ray paced back and forth.

"How can you goof off at a time like this?" Ray asked.

"Years of practice," Terry replied, tapping away at the controller.

"I'm talking to a dead man, you do know that, don't you? There's no way you're going to be able to come up with that kind of mon--Jesus, get the power-up! The power-up!" he exclaimed, pointing emphatically at the screen.

"It's not as easy as it looks! And I'm well aware of Delgado's 'payment schedule,' thank you very much. What I'm looking for is--no, no, no, no, no!!" He frantically mashed at the controller before throwing it down in disgust.

"See? A dead man."

Terry gave him an annoyed glance. "The great Nostradamus," he declared. "And how was I to know that Delgado was such a vicious thug? In his legitimate business, he's a pizza baron!"

"Yeah, well, maybe it should have occurred to you not to go to a loan shark who made his money on a business model based on 'thirty minutes or less,'" Ray countered.

"I didn't know it was 'thirty minutes or else.'" Terry sighed heavily. "Dude, what am I gonna do?"

Ray sat down on the couch and picked up the newspaper. "Your problem, my friend, is simple mathematics. You need money, and lots of it, and fast."

"So, what? I should rob a bank?"

Ray shook his head. "Nah, it's all in computers, these days."

Terry considered that. "I should rob an Apple store?"

"Lucius Delgado doesn't really strike me as a Mac guy," Ray said. "Maybe you could donate blood, or a kidney, or something?"

"If I give that much blood, Delgado won't have to finish me off," Terry moaned.

Ray looked at the newspaper. "How 'bout this?" he said, noting an advertisement. "Volunteering for medical testing?"

Terry looked at it skeptically. "That doesn't pay nearly enough money to get Delgado off my back."

"Yeah, I was thinkin' more like a plane ticket to South America."

Late that afternoon in the kitchen, Bonnie was overseeing the preparations for the dance like she was prepping an army for invasion. She busily pulled some cookies out of the oven and watched as Dave stirred the large bowl of punch and supervised Claire and her friend Jasper tying ribbons on little sachets. "You should put more potpourri in there, Claire."

Claire unceremoniously tossed the little bag on the big pile in front of her. "Mom, it doesn't matter," she moaned.

"Of course it matters! You need to get the right amount in there. See what a good job Jasper is doing?" she responded.

Jasper tied a neat little bow on the sachet he was holding and put it on the pile with the others. "Thanks, Mrs. Riley...I'm just glad to help."

"Well, it's much appreciated, Jasper," Bonnie told him. "We're just lucky you were available on such short notice." She poked Dave, who had been listlessly stirring the punch. "The antioxidants need to aerate," she admonished him.

"Oh, I'm always happy to come over," Jasper said, sneaking a glance at Claire, who was disgustedly throwing another little sachet on the pile.

"You sure you didn't have any plans?" Dave asked. "A good looking young fella like you should have plans on a Friday night."

Jasper just shrugged, but Claire muttered, "Wow, a teenager with plans on a Friday night...there's a concept."

"You can see Danny at the dance tomorrow," Bonnie chided her. "And he was more than welcome to come over here tonight and help."

"Yeah, he'll be sorry he missed out on this," she sighed, picking up one of the sachets. "Mom, nobody is going to want these."

"Well, not the boys," Bonnie countered. "But that's who the cookies are for."

Terry came breezing into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge and made a face at the pungent smell of potpourri. "People! C'mon, we cook food in here!" he teased, sneaking a cookie off the plate. He took a bite and looked at it in dismay. "Somewhere, a Keebler Elf is crying."

"They're gluten free," Bonnie said defensively.

"More's the pity," Terry said. "I don't even know what gluten is and now I miss it. Gluten, we hardly knew ye."

"Out!" Bonnie said, throwing a sachet of potpourri at him as he retreated from the kitchen.

Terry headed into the large family room and tossed himself on the couch next to Madison, who was sitting there reading a book. He grabbed the remote and started surfing through channels, but soon started shifting around uncomfortably.

"Ants in your pants?" Madison asked.

"Volunteer work," he responded absently.

Madison put her book down and stared at him.

"What?"

"It's just...I know what both of those words mean, but I didn't think you did. And definitely not both of them together like that."

"Ha, ha," he retorted dryly. "I spent the day getting poked and prodded by doctors."

"Why, are you sick?"

"Hopefully not so sick that I can't fly," Terry muttered.

"I don't get it."

Terry broke into a grin and shifted into a silly cartoon voice. "Hoo-wee, pardner! Y'all ain't needin' ta be worryin' 'bout that, y'heah?"

Madison furrowed her brow. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

"C'mon, you used to think that was hysterical."

"Sure, when I was eight."

"You're ten," he told her. "So, what? You're telling me that your comedic sensibilities changed in two years?"

She shrugged. "Girls mature faster than boys."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Bonnie's voice yelled from the kitchen, "Would someone get that, please?"

Terry and Madison, sitting within sight of the door, made eye contact with each other.

"You're closer," she said.

"And I'm also older," he contended. "So..." He gestured at the door.

"Ugh," Madison groaned theatrically as she trudged over to the door and opened it wide.

"Well, hello there," a woman's voice came, soft and musical. "Is your mom or dad home?"

Terry turned from the couch to see that the woman speaking was in her mid-20s and drop dead gorgeous. She was fashionably dressed in a tailored suit that flattered her stunning physique.

He leapt from the couch and after two large bounds was standing breathlessly at the door. "Yes, I'm...Mister Riley," he said smoothly, giving Madison a little shove out of the way.

Madison rolled her eyes and went back to the couch.

"I'm sorry, I'm looking for David?" the woman said.

"I'm his brother, Terry. But I'm sure I can help you find what you're looking for. Concert tickets, maybe? You like dancing? Jazz? Barn raising? Seriously, I have an in with some Amish guys."

"That's funny," she smiled. "Actually, it's a small world. I've been working with your brother on my art exhibition, and here we are, just moving in right next door!"

"You don't say," Terry enthused. "Well, neighbor, I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other, then! But I'm so sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"I'm Krystal," she said. "Krystal Delgado."

Terry's smile vanished.

He cleared his throat nervously. "So...that'd be 'Delgado' of the Valencia Delgados, then?"

"Oh, no," she said. "My father is Lucius Delgado. The pizza baron."

"Uh huh!" Terry remarked, edging his way to the window. He roughly yanked the blinds closed. "Sorry," he explained. "There was a...glare. Off a bird."

"Krystal!" Dave's voice called as he walked into the foyer. "How are you guys settling in?"

She shrugged. "My dad is over there now, yelling at the movers. Everything is always life-or-death with him."

"Ha ha ha!" Terry laughed, awkwardly and nervously.

Dave looked at him strangely. "Krystal, this is my brother, T--"

"Tim! I go my Tim," Terry interrupted.

Krystal looked puzzled. "I thought you said your name was Terry?"

"Yep, that's right, but Tim to my friends. And we're friends, right? Why wouldn't we be friends?" He gestured to a painting on the wall. "Wow, would you look at the time. Busy, busy, must dash, but let's do this again. Maybe at your place? Not here. Call first! We're often not home." He hurried upstairs.

Dave and Krystal stood there for a moment, bewildered.

"He certainly has a lot of energy," Krystal observed.

"You don't look so good," Claire said, standing by Terry's bedroom door and watching as he frantically hurried around the room.

Terry paused, wiping the sweat from his brow. He was short of breath and feeling a little dizzy, but he found the energy to toss a large suitcase on the bed. "Nope, right as rain," he told her as he sat down. "Although I'd appreciate if you'd stop spinning like that."

"Oookay," Claire said uncertainly.

Jasper came up behind her, asking, "Hey, did he have the--wow, you don't look so good."

"Hey, Jasper," Terry said, glancing up at the two of them. "So, you two dating yet, or what?"

Jasper was flustered at the question. "Oh, um, we-- We're not-- That is, I mean, we--"

"No," Claire said flatly. "As if. Jasper is like the brother I never had."

"Or wanted," Madison added, shoving past her older sister as she entered the room. "Whoa, you look like junk," she said to Terry, who was bent over slightly, catching his breath.

Terry gave a weak smile and straightened up to continue packing. "Hey, now. Let's not make this all about me."

"Wow, you really must be sick," Claire said, walking over to him and putting her hand on his forehead. "Yikes, you're burning up! You should probably lie down."

Terry grabbed an armful of shirts from the closet and tossed them unceremoniously in the suitcase. "I'll sleep on the plane."

"You going somewhere?"

"What? Who said I was going anywhere?" he assserted defensively, tossing some underwear into his suitcase while they watched. He looked at them, and then down at the suitcase. "Oh. This. Right, I... Look, I'll level with you guys, I need to go away for a while. You know, see the world, sow my wild oats..."

Madison looked at him suspiciously. "This has something to do with that lady next door, doesn't it?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "Yes. Not necessarily. Sorry, what was the question, again?" he wiped the sweat from his brow and blinked in confusion as he tried to steady himself.

"You turned into a total spaz when she said her name. Delgado, right?"

Jasper's face lit up. "Wow, like the pizza baron?"

"Who?" Claire asked.

"You know," Jasper said, singing the theme song, "Del, Del... Delgado... Pizza to die for!"

"Is that the one with the shark for the mascot?"

"Yeah! Sharky, the remorseless, cold-blooded killing--"

"Okay!" Terry interrupted. "Yes, that's the one. Her father and I have done some...business...together."

"You mean you owe him money," Madison claimed. Terry looked at her in surprise, and she said, "What? I'm ten, I'm not stupid."

Claire peered at the suitcase apprehensively. "How much money?"

Jasper picked up the printed ticket on the dresser and read the destination. "Bolivia?"

"That's a lot of money," Claire whispered.

Terry gathered up the girls in his arms and hugged them reassuringly. "Hey, don't worry about me. Uncle Terry's got this under control. Everything is going to be just fine." He guided them to the door.

Claire looked at him uncertainly. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Don't give it a second thought. I always land on my feet," he said with a smile, closing the door behind them.

He turned around, reached for his suitcase and passed out and fell forward, missing the bed and landing face-down on the floor, unconscious.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!"

Claire was up like a shot, responding to the scream. It was early the next morning and she ran bleary-eyed next door to Terry's room and threw the door open. "Uncle Terry, are you... you... you..."

Terry was standing up and staring in the mirror in wide-eyed horror, clad in his briefs and a tight white undershirt. He had the undershirt pulled up and was looking at his bare chest, which now sported a truly spectacular pair of breasts. Tearing his eyes from the mirror to face Claire's stunned gaze, he pulled the shirt down in embarrassment but it was so snug it did nothing to hide his prominent bosom.

"You...you..." she repeated, pointing at his chest. "How...?"

He started to pull her into his room when Madison showed up, rubbing her eyes. "Hey, what's all the yelling ab--" She gave Terry a once-over. "Wow, this is totally going in my blog."

Terry grabbed both girls and pulled them into the bedroom, his eyes darting both ways down the corridor before closing and locking the door.

Claire stared at him blankly. "You have..." she said, pointing at his chest.

"I know!"

"But you're a...?"

"That's right!"

She tried to process that, and then gestured at his crotch uncertainly. "Do you still...?"

"Yes!"

Madison walked around behind him, eyeing his slender feminine waist and his significantly expanded hips and butt, which were now packed tightly into his briefs. She reached out with her finger and gave his big round butt a poke.

"Hey!"

"That's awesome," she giggled.

Claire shook her head. "How?"

He sat on the edge of the bed. "I volunteered for some medical experiments. I needed the money! I never thought...this!" He gave his soft bosom a little nudge.

"Is it temporary?"

"I don't know," he said.

Madison eyed his chest in wonder. "Wow, you're even bigger than Mom," she said.

Claire let out a disgusted little grumble.

"What?" Terry asked.

"It's just..." she began, gesturing at his full-figured bosom before crossing her arms over her own still-maturing chest. "...it's not fair, y'know?"

"Do we call you Aunt Terry now?" Madison wondered.

"No! And don't tell your parents, either."

"Are you going to Bolivia like that?"

Terry made a face as he thought about that. "I, uh, I don't know. But I have to get out of here."

"That's gonna be tough with all those people outside," Madison said, pointing at the window with her thumb.

Terry rushed to see for himself and saw a large number of people milling about. It looked like the Delgado house next door was setting up for a wedding reception and it was spilling over into their own lawn. Dave and Bonnie were out front talking to a heavyset gray-haired man Terry instantly recognized as Lucius Delgado. The couple was smiling and nodding as they pointed up to Terry's window. Delgado scowled and looked right at the window, just as Terry ducked out of sight.

Terry whispered, "Nostradamus was right. I'm a dead man."

Shortly, after the girls went to change into their casual clothes for the day, Claire returned and knocked gently on his bedroom door.

"How's it look out there?" he asked, letting her in.

"It's no good," she replied. "The back yard is even worse than the front. It's crawling with people."

"Well, is it just like wedding caterers and stuff?" he asked. "Them, I could sneak past."

She shook her head. "There's also a bunch of very serious-looking guys wandering around with earpieces and prominent lumps in their jackets," Claire told him. "Unless they're all hard of hearing and carrying bibles, I'm thinking that's not a good sign."

"Outstanding."

"And you should have seen them all tense up when our back door opened! I almost screamed and dropped to the ground."

"Yep, that is just outstanding," he repeated, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, I appreciate you girls trying to help, but maybe it's better if you just go downstairs and wait it out. I'll figure something out."

Claire held his hand. "No, Uncle Terry. If you're in trouble, we're going to help."

"Yeah," Madison agreed. "We don't want to see your bullet-riddled corpse lying on the front lawn."

They both gaped at her. Terry found his voice first. "Okay, I swear that's it, no more procedural cop shows for you."

He turned back to Claire. "Did you bring it?"

She handed him a wide elastic ACE bandage that she'd retrieved and he sat on the bed and began wrapping it over his undershirt, binding down his oversized breasts. "Damn it, why'd they have to be so big?" he said to himself.

"Oh, right, that's fair," Claire muttered.

"Hey, who are they?" Madison said, peering out the window through the curtains.

Claire took a look. "I don't know, maybe they're here for the wedding?"

"I can't believe my luck," Terry said, wincing in discomfort. "Who the hell has a wedding on a Tuesday?"

"Today's Saturday," Madison informed him.

He paused and blinked. "Wow. I really do need to get a job. I've got no sense of time anymore." He stood up. "How's this look?"

His bosom, while flattened somewhat by the bandages, was just as obvious as ever. And the neck of the shirt had gotten pulled down while he was binding his chest, so now his boobs were popping out the top, displaying a very impressive cleavage.

"So, so not fair," Claire muttered again.

Terry removed the bandage in exasperation and peered out the window. There were a few women outside the front of their house in housekeeper's uniforms.

"Why that cheeky little monkey," he marveled. "I knew they were hiring a maid!"

Claire gazed at the women outside and then back at Terry. "Huh."

Madison studied her sister's expression. "What are you thinking?" she asked suspiciously.

Terry was still peering out the window. "I'm thinking the blonde maybe, but I'd have to see her up close. The others...ehh," he said, waggling his hand back and forth.

He turned to look at his nieces, who were both staring at him critically.

"It could work," Claire said.

"Sure, right up until the part with the bullet-riddled corpse on our lawn."

"Would you stop saying that?" Terry snapped. "And what are we talking about, again?"

Claire told her sister, "Check in the basement, I think Mom has some maternity bras down there. One of those should fit. I'll get my makeup kit."

Terry glanced at them nervously. "Hey, now, let's not be too quick to throw out the bullet-riddled corpse idea. We're still brainstorming. No bad ideas."

Later that morning, the doorbell rang.

"Would someb--!" Bonnie yelled.

"I got it!" Claire cried, racing down the stairs.

Her mother called out again from the next room, where she was interviewing one of the maids. "Honey, if it's one of the housekeepers, just ask her to wait--"

Claire cut her off. "Yep! Will do, Mom!" She opened the door and Jasper was standing there, looking bewildered.

He motioned over his shoulder. "Are you guys having a block party, or someth--"

"Do you have it?" she asked impatiently.

He held up a tote bag. "I'm still not sure why you wanted me to--"

"Come on," she said, dragging him upstairs.

They entered Terry's bedroom, where Madison was sitting on the bed typing away on a laptop as she talked to her uncle through the open door of the adjoining bathroom.

"I am not going back down there!" she told him emphatically. "Going through Mom's maternity stuff, eww! I'm not even supposed to know about all that stuff yet! You're robbing me of my childhood innocence!"

"Yes, I appreciate that..."

"I saw things!" she protested. "Things that can't be unseen!"

Terry walked out of the bathroom in a snug-fitting bra and panties, tugging at his bra strap as he adjusted his breasts in the cups. "Look, I'm just asking if you saw anything bigger...oh, hey, guys," he said, looking at Claire and Jasper.

Unlike his previous male clothing, his feminine undergarments left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and his transformed body could stop traffic. His big round breasts formed an impressive cleavage, and he had a slender feminine waist that flared out to a broad set of hips and a significantly expanded ass. Claire had done a capable if over-exaggerated job on his makeup, and his shoulder-length chestnut hair was worn loose of his usual male ponytail and hung softly about his face and shoulders.

Standing there in the bedroom, he looked like he could be modeling lingerie for Fredericks of Hollywood.

"There is no God," Claire grumbled.

Jasper stared at Terry, his eyes as big as saucers. "H-how--?" he croaked.

Terry rested a hand on one of his jutting hips. "You know how your parents are always telling you how you shouldn't do drugs?" he said. "Listen to them."

Jasper nodded vigorously.

"Is that it?" Terry asked, pointing at the tote bag. But when Jasper didn't reply--still frozen like a deer captivated by Terry's impressive 'headlights'--Claire snatched the bag from him and handed it over.

"Okay! I'll just--" Terry stopped as he dumped the contents of the bag out onto the bed. It was a black satin French maid costume with all the trimmings...ruffled panties, petticoats, fishnet stockings, a white apron and a lacy cap. There was even a feather duster and matching satchel.

"What is this?" Terry exclaimed, gawking at the frilly costume. He picked up a lacy elastic band.

"I think that's a garter," Madison offered helpfully.

Claire smacked Jasper on the arm. "You dummy! I told you to bring over one of your housekeeper's uniforms!"

Jasper looked bewildered. "What's the difference?"

"That's a French maid costume!"

"You lost me."

Claire looked at him incredulously. "Why the heck did you think I wanted a French maid costume?"

He shrugged. "I thought maybe you wanted to dress up?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Please, please don't answer that," Madison interjected.

Terry tossed the outfit on the bed. "Okay, this isn't going to work," he said. "And my own clothes would only draw suspicion, and I can't fit into Claire's clothes--"

Claire threw up her hands. "Yes! Fine! We get it! Because your boobs are huge, and I'm so flat!" she exclaimed.

Terry hesitantly continued, "--since I'm like six inches taller than you..."

"Wow, touched a nerve there," Madison declared.

"What about your mom?" Jasper asked. "Could you borrow one of her dresses?"

Claire shook her head. "She might have something that would work, but she locked their bedroom. I guess because of all the people in the house and next door."

Jasper looked puzzled. "How do you know it's locked?"

"I wanted to borrow some jewelry for the dance tonight," she replied.

"So why didn't you just ask?"

"That's not really how we do things around here," Terry offered. "We're more of an 'ask forgiveness rather than permission' kind of outfit."

"And that's only if we get caught," Madison interjected.

Terry sighed deeply as he looked at the costume. "Well, I guess there's nothing else for it, then. On the plus side, all I have to do is sneak downstairs and get past those goons outside. At least they'll never be expecting to see me like this."

"Nobody is going to be expecting this," Jasper said, gawking at Terry's rounded backside as he leaned over to gather up the outfit.

After Terry got dressed up in the costume, Madison fussed at the details, brushing Terry's hair and putting the maid's cap in place. "I love your hair, it's so soft."

"I use an organic leave-in conditioner," he told her, putting his wallet and passport in the little black satchel. "It has peppermint oil."

Madison nodded appreciatively.

Claire ducked back into the bedroom from the hallway and closed the door behind her. "I found them in the basement," she said, opening the shoebox she was carrying. Inside were a pair of very sexy black patent Italian pumps. "Mom told me she bought these when she was pregnant since her feet were swollen and she couldn't fit into her regular shoes, so they may be big enough to fit you."

Terry took the pumps and regarded the five-inch heels skeptically. "She wore these when she was pregnant?"

"No, she bought them when she was pregnant," Claire corrected. "They're Salvatore Ferragamos."

Terry slipped them on his feet. They were a little snug, but he'd manage. He stood up on them, trying to get his balance. "So if they were too big, why'd she keep them?"

Claire looked at him like it was a ridiculous question. "They're Salvatore Ferragamos," she repeated.

He turned to face them. "So, how do I look?" he asked, striking a little pose. The dress was low-cut in front and the white lace around the neckline framed his abundant cleavage invitingly. The white apron was tied into a big bow in back that highlighted his narrow waist, and the froth of petticoats swayed sexily around his pretty stockinged legs which were perched on the shiny high heels.

The three just stared at him.

Terry shifted self-consciously. "Okay, starting to feel just a little bit awkward here..."

"You look...incredible," Claire complimented him with a smile.

Madison looked him over. "I can't believe you're a guy. If I end up with body image and self-esteem issues, you are so gonna be paying for my therapy."

Terry blushed a little and smiled, looking to Jasper.

Jasper hadn't moved, and was still staring at Terry in awe. Claire jabbed him with her elbow. "Good!" he blurted out. "You look...good."

Madison retrieved a sheet of paper from the dresser and handed it to him. "What's this?" he asked, scanning over the dense text.

"It's your cover identity," she told him. "Your name is Camille Delacroix. You're a French-Canadian political science student who's taking a year off to visit the United States to get away from your controlling ex-fiance, Jacques. You broke it off with him when you suspected that he was secretly seeing your sister--"

Terry held up his hands. "Stop, stop," he told her. "Madison, all I have to do is walk down a flight of stairs, go outside, and then walk three blocks to the coffee shop and wait for Jasper to sneak me my suitcase so I can change and go to the airport. I don't think I'll need to know that"--he looked down at the sheet--"that I have a Yorkie named Robespierre."

"Sure, you say that now," she countered, "but if you get caught, you're going to need to know this! My story is the only thing between you and a gun to your head!"

"I should never have let you watch Argo," Terry sighed.

Claire furrowed her brow. "Is that the best voice you can do?"

"How's this?" he said, affecting a higher-pitched voice.

Claire scrunched her nose. "Can you do it more like that girl's cartoon voice you sometimes do?"

"Ooh!" Jasper cut in. "Do it like Princess Ravenstar from the Lunar Base Yamamoto anime!"

Terry shot him a disbelieving look.

"Ignore him," Claire said, rolling her eyes. "Just put a little Jessica Rabbit in it."

"Mmm...who knew all those years watching cartoons would finally pay off?" he purred seductively.

Claire's eyes widened. "Wow. Okay, that actually was really good."

"Can you do it with a French accent?" Madison interjected. "Camille is from Quebec."

He gave her an exasperated look and sighed. "'Ah-lo! My name eez Camille!" he said, trying out a French accent.

"Wow, that was...unbelievably terrible," Claire said. "Do you even speak French?"

Terry considered that. "Oui!" he exclaimed brightly.

"You don't even know how to say 'no' in French, do you?"

He hesitated. "Oui, oui!" he repeated.

Madison groaned and snatched the paper out of his hand. "Forget it. You're from Newark," she declared, marking the sheet up with a pen.

Terry shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, and speaking of 'wee wee,' I need to make an adjustment down south or you're never going to have any cousins. These French-cut ruffled panties are invading my Normandy," he said, wiggling into the bathroom.

"Why would the French invade Normandy?" Jasper wondered.

After he fretted at his reflection one last time, Terry walked out to face the three of them. He and the girls looked at each other apprehensively.

"Well, I guess it's show time," he said as confidently as he could manage. "Thanks for everything you guys have done for me, I don't know what to say."

The two girls gave him nervous smiles as they shifted uncertainly.

He stepped close to Claire and touched her arm gently. "I don't know when I'm going to have a chance to see you again. You're so full of life and promise. You're funny, beautiful, talented, witty, a good friend, fashionable, good with animals--"

"Don't oversell it," Madison broke in.

"Actually, it's okay if you want to keep going," Claire smiled, a tear in her eye.

"I'd say you're gonna be amazing, but you're already there," Terry said, giving her a warm hug.

He turned to Madison.

She eyed him warily. "I swear to God, if you tell me not to grow up too fast, I'm gonna punch you right in the boob."

He laughed and pulled her close. "Don't ever change," he said, kissing the top of her head.

They broke the embrace and she sniffled.

Terry turned to Jasper and held out his hand. "Jasper, my man, I--"

Jasper ran up to Terry and threw his arms around him desperately, burying his face in Terry's chest.

"Oh! Um, okay. I guess that's good. Y'know, just...just hug it out, man," he said, patting his hand on the teen's back awkwardly.

Another moment passed. Jasper didn't let go.

"So, yeah, got a flight to catch..." Terry said. He started to become acutely aware that the teen's face was pressed into his bosom and grabbed Jasper's arms, trying to disengage the amorous adolescent. Finally, with Claire's assistance, they managed to pry him loose.

Terry nodded to the girls and started to open the door.

"Uncle Terry?" Claire said.

"Look, sweetie, let's not drag this out any longer than--"

"No, it's not that," she said. "Your petticoats are stuck inside your panties," she said, pointing at his backside.

"Huh? Oh, thanks," he said, pulling them out and giving them a little fluff. "Well, wish me luck."

"Bonne chance," Madison said. When Terry just looked at her in confusion, she buried her face in the palm of her hand and shook her head.

He stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind him.

"Do you think we'll ever see him again?" Claire asked.

Madison looked at her incredulously. "Are you kidding? There's no way I'm going to miss this!" she said, following him out the door.

Downstairs, Bonnie was interviewing one of the housekeepers. "Well, Mrs. Osborn, I have to say I'm very impressed with your credentials. And that's so interesting, you're the second applicant today to have a Master's degree in Anthropology," she observed. "Now, I--" She paused, noting that Mrs. Osborn seemed distracted by something that was going on behind her. Bonnie turned around and saw a woman in a French maid's uniform come sneaking down the stairs and across the foyer.

She was up like a shot.

"Excuse me? Excuse me, miss, who are you?" Bonnie challenged.

Terry froze. "I...I, um..." he stammered in his female voice. His mind went completely blank. The sheer absurdity of standing in front of his sister-in-law while pretending to be a woman in this ridiculous outfit put him into total brain lock. "I have a Yorkie named Robespierre," he volunteered.

Bonnie shook her head. "What? I don't-- Who are you?"

"M-my name is--" at this point he was so flustered couldn't even remember his real name. His mind flashed to a stripper he knew. "Angelique," he said. Crap, he didn't know her last name. "Angelique is... uh... boy?... b-beau!" he stammered.

"Well, Ms. Isabeaux, what exactly were you doing upstairs just now?"

"I was...cleaning," Terry said. "Because I am a maid. And I was cleaning. Upstairs. Cleaning. As a maid."

The housekeeper being interviewed got up and joined the conversation. "Oh, has the position been filled already?"

"Yes," Terry said.

"No," Bonnie retorted.

"Yes," Terry repeated. "Mr. Riley hired me."

"He did," Bonnie said skeptically, glowering at Terry's ridiculously sexy outfit. "Really." Then, she rolled her eyes. "Wait. This 'Mr. Riley' that hired you...would he be the unkempt and disheveled one with the ponytail?"

Terry blinked. "I saw him more as a free-spirited Bohemian with boyish good looks," he said. Then quickly added, "But, no! It was the other Mr. Riley that hired me. Dave? David, I think it was?"

Bonnie stared at Terry incredulously, trying to reconcile this information in her head. "Just a moment, please," she said pleasantly. She walked to the front door and opened it. "Dave!!!" she screamed. Both Terry and Mrs. Osborn jumped.

A few moments later, Dave appeared at the door with Krystal, whom he'd been talking to outside. "Honey? What is it?" he said. "Is everything o--" He hesitated as he saw the sexy stranger standing there dressed as a French maid. "--oookaaay?"

Mrs. Osborn stepped forward to get Bonnie's attention. "You all seem to be busy, so I'll just let you sort this out..." she offered. She and Bonnie fell into a quick little side conversation as Bonnie assured her it would all be worked out and that she'd be in touch.

Terry, seeing an opening, grabbed Dave. "Dave, it's me, Terry," he whispered in his male voice. "Just go along with whatever I say, I'll explain later." He stepped back and smiled prettily while Dave stared at him in utter shock and disbelief.

As Mrs. Osborn left, Bonnie turned to Dave. "Honey, Ms. Isabeaux here claims that you hired her to be our housekeeper?"

When the slack-jawed Dave didn't answer, Terry jumped in. "Oh, yes," he simpered. "We had quite a lovely conversation the other day, didn't we, Mr. Riley? He said that he knew that today would be very busy for you and wanted to save you the trouble of hiring someone yourself, but I guess it must have slipped his mind, isn't that right, sir?"

Dave hadn't moved or said a word, and was still staring wide-eyed at his feminized brother. He looked down at Terry's breasts and blinked slowly in disbelief. "Uh huh," he agreed absently.

"You hired her without telling me?"

"Um. Uh huh," he repeated.

"And I suppose this--ahem--'uniform' was also your idea?" she said accusingly.

"Oh, no," Terry replied quickly, not wanting to get Dave in any more trouble than he already was. "I'm afraid I insisted. You see, my...abusive ex-fiance Jacques...he used to make me dress this way, so I wear it proudly to...reclaim it...and never feel like a victim again."

Up the staircase on the landing, Madison nudged her big sister. "See why that cover identity stuff is so important?"

Krystal had taken a great interest in this conversation and looked admiringly at Terry. "That is the most amazing thing I've ever heard. You are so inspirational!"

"It's a lot of something, all right," Bonnie muttered. "I just hope that you have good qualif--" She stopped short. She'd glanced down for a moment, and was now staring at Terry intently with confusion and fascination running across her face. Terry wasn't sure what was going on until he glanced down at himself, past his cleavage, past the frilly apron, past his skirts and petticoats...

Down to Bonnie's Salvatore Ferragamo shoes that he was wearing.

He looked back up at her and as they made eye contact, Bonnie gave him a knowing little smirk. "Well, Angelique," she said, putting emphasis on the feminine name, "on the other hand, I'm sure if you went through all of this with Dave, that's good enough for me. Right, honey?"

"Uh huh," Dave said, not having any idea what was going on.

"You know, I really, really hate to ask this," Krystal said, "but we are dying for some help next door since we just moved in and the wedding stuff is out of control. Would it be okay if we borrowed Angelique to help out? We'll pay for her time, whatever you need."

Terry looked at her in alarm. "Oh, I don't think--"

"Certainly!" Bonnie had a huge smile on her face as she leered at her feminized brother-in-law disguised in his sexy and frilly costume. She took him by the arm and guided him over to Krystal, telling her, "You feel free to take Angelique here for as long as you need, and don't you dare give it a second thought."

"Oh, you guys are so generous," Krystal gushed. Then, to Terry, she said, "You go ahead and check in with the wedding coordinator next door. I'm two steps behind you!"

Terry looked at them helplessly and headed out the door nervously. Bonnie was grinning ear to ear and gave him a little wave.

Once he was gone, Krystal said, "Okay, I admit that at first I wasn't too sure about her in that outfit, but that whole story about being abused by her fiance was just heartbreaking, don't you think?" she said, holding a hand over her heart. "And I just have to say, she has the most amazing taste in shoes!"

"I thought so, too," Bonnie admitted.

Terry was practically trembling in fear as he walked outside and over to Delgado's house next door. The whole area was a buzz of activity as people finished the move-in and prepared for the wedding. In addition to the caterers and people setting up, there was also a small army of landscapers, trimming the grass and planting shrubs and flowers. Most of them were male, and all of them paused in their work to check out the leggy and buxom French maid who was crossing the driveway up to the house. Terry swallowed hard and plastered a smile on his face as each of the guys gave him a lascivious once-over. He felt like a pork chop surrounded by wolves.

He was having a little trouble in his high heels and he moved slowly up the steps to the front door when a gust of wind blew up around his legs, causing his petticoats to rise up and giving a flash of his ruffled panties.

"Ooh la la!" a guy called, causing Terry to blush furiously as he held down his skirts.

Hurrying up the stairs, Terry saw that the front door was open, presumably since people were busily carrying things in and out of the house. Tentatively he moved inside, hearing the bustle of people further within as he nervously listened to the clacking of his high heels on the marble floor. His heart was beating so hard he thought it was going to leap out of his chest, and as he brought his hand to his heart, he was startled to encounter the unexpected softness of his jutting bosom. He took a deep breath and turned around slowly.

Bringing him face-to-face with Lucius Delgado.

"AAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

Any other time, affecting such a high-pitched girly scream would have embarrassed Terry. However, given the current circumstances, his rapidly diminishing male pride was the least of his worries.

"Hey, hey, there, little lady!" Delgado said soothingly, grabbing Terry's trembling hands in his own. "Didn't mean to startle you, there."

Terry stared at the man wide-eyed, a nervous smile stuck stupidly on his face. "Y--you didn't," he stammered.

Delgado raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Terry was suddenly aware that Delgado was still holding his hands firmly. He wanted to yank them back, but didn't want to risk antagonizing the older man, who was now looking him in the face intently. Nervously, Terry looked down at the floor and then turned to look away, his long hair blocking his face. "It's just...you have such an--imposing--um, foyer," Terry explained. "It's so overwhelming and, uh, substantial," he said tremulously, suddenly realizing how heavily muscled Delgado was.

"Really."

"Mmm hmm!" Terry nodded vigorously. "I see a foyer like this and I just want to hear the acoustics! You know, like, 'aaaaahhh!'" he squeaked.

"Huh," Delgado said, his hands still firmly holding Terry's. "You mean more like...'RAAAAHHHH!!!'"

Terry almost jumped out of his skin at the shout, embarrassed that Delgado's pull on his hands had brought him even closer, leaving him mere inches away from the beefy man. "Yep," he whimpered.

Delgado was looking Terry right in the face, but he'd cocked his ear to listen to the echo. "Well, I never noticed that before." He looked at Terry closely. "You know, I have an excellent memory for faces, and I swear we've met before."

"I'm sure I'd remember," Terry smiled, his hands sweating in Delgado's grip.

"But where are my manners? I'm Lucius Delgado. And who are you, my dear?"

Terry's eyes went as wide as saucers. Sheer terror had pushed him into brain lock again. "I...uh...I'm..."

"Daddy!" Krystal's voice called as she entered the house. "Oh, good, I see you've met Angelique."

"I'm Angelique!" Terry blurted out.

Delgado released his grip as Krystal came up to them. "Daddy, this is Angelique Isabeaux. She--"

"I'm Angelique Isabeaux!" Terry repeated.

"Yes. She's working as a housekeeper for the Rileys next door and they said we could borrow her for the day. I figured we were so short-handed with the wedding and all, we could use the extra pair of hands."

Delgado nodded. "That's my girl, always thinking!" He then wrapped an arm around Terry's waist possessively, adding, "And any help as lovely as this is always welcome in my home."

Terry cleared his throat nervously. "I'm a helper," he croaked.

Hours later, Terry was watching the clock, trying to do the math to figure out how long it would take to get to the airport. He was starting to doubt that he'd even have time to change, and wondered if he'd have to wear the stupid French maid's outfit on the flight.

His experiences all morning and afternoon had been a circle of hell that even Dante had never envisioned, and it had been presided over by a she-devil known only as Mrs. Bautista, a self-important dictator who had been hired as the wedding coordinator. She had taken it upon herself to ensure that "Angelique" was kept busy at all times, but--obviously at Mr. Delgado's request--was also kept on display in front of the assembled guests. For Terry it was bad enough having to dress in drag in front of all those people, but his skimpy and flirty little outfit had singled him out for all kinds of unwanted attention, especially from the men. As he walked around carrying a silver platter to serve drinks and appetizers to all the guests, he had enough ogling and leering to last him a lifetime, to say nothing of all the "accidental" gropes. After one particularly bold teenager got a little too familiar, Terry was about to tell the little twerp where to stuff it when he got a warning look from Mrs. Bautista. So instead, he plastered a pretty smile on his face, gave a little curtsy, and minced back to the kitchen to get more canapes.

Later that afternoon he was helping one of the other waitresses move some cases of liquor, and soon found himself huffing and puffing in his tight dress and awkward heels. He looked in annoyance at the men standing by idly and not even offering to help when he realized that his exertions had left him flushed and his voluptuous bosom was heaving prettily in the confines of his dress. One of Delgado's lieutenants from the loansharking operation gave Terry a long look, and at first Terry was worried that he'd been recognized when he realized that the man was just leering at his jiggling boobs.

"I guess they're good for that much," Terry muttered.

"Sorry, what was that?" Krystal asked, walking up to him. She'd changed into a long slinky gown for the reception and it looked like she'd been poured into it.

Terry suddenly realized that he'd been staring at her. "That's quite a dress," he complimented her.

Krystal gave a little smirk. "It was a present," she said. "Seemed like a good time to break it out."

"A present," Terry echoed. "From your...boyfriend?" he asked, handing her another glass of champagne from the bar.

"Oh, I don't have a boyfriend," Krystal said, taking a sip from the glass.

"Oh, good."

"What's that?"

"I mean, it's good, being on your own sometimes, isn't it? Not being tied to any one guy. You know, just getting comfortable with yourself."

Krystal looked at Terry and shook her head. "God, Angelique, how do you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"It's just seems like you're so together, y'know? Like you know what you want. You're such a modern woman."

Terry gave her a nervous smile and grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray as one of the other waitresses walked by, taking a quick gulp.

"Oh, and I'm sorry about my father," she apologized. "I know he's been a bit grabby, but ever since my mom passed away he's been kind of a recluse. But you're probably used to all the attention, what with wearing that outfit all the time, huh?"

"It's not easy," Terry admitted. "I've been hit on more times today than..." he paused, "...something that gets hit on a lot." He shook his head.

"Ugh," Krystal groaned. "I am so sick of guys and their bullshit!"

"Maybe you should switch teams?" Terry joked.

"Tried it. Girls are worse. I dated this lingerie model back in college. The sex was hot--especially when her twin sister was in town--but God, the drama! You can't imagine."

Terry had a faraway stare. "I--I'm really trying to imagine," he whispered.

Krystal sighed and looked across the crowd of people. "Kind of makes you wish there was a third option, doesn't it?"

Terry raised his eyebrows and said, "You know it's funny you should say that..." Then he saw Mrs. Bautista standing nearby, staring daggers at him. "I should get back to work," he grumbled.

"Mmm," Krystal agreed. "Back to mingling," she said, retreating back into the crowd.

Terry watched as she turned and left, her shapely round bottom looking quite fetching in her clingy dress. Suddenly, a thought hit him.

"A piñata!" he blurted out. He looked up brightly, but Krystal was long gone and nobody seemed to be paying any attention to him. Almost nobody.

"What are you doing, standing around?" Mrs. Bautista challenged him. "Lazy girl! You are a terrible maid!"

"Yeah, well, this place isn't exactly Downton Abbey, either," Terry deadpanned. Then, seeing her disapproving glare, he picked up another tray of drinks, sighed heavily, and wandered back into the crowd.

When the meal was served that afternoon, Terry was called upon to wait on the main table, and found himself getting some dirty looks from the bride and a few of the bridesmaids every time he leaned over and flashed his abundant cleavage. Belatedly he realized that the bride--one of Delgado's nieces--was not nearly so well-endowed, and she seemed to take delight in ordering him about or making snide comments about the "help."

Being unused to his new body and clothes also presented other challenges. As he leaned over to fetch Mr. Delgado's plate, Terry had trouble balancing on his heels and found himself snuggling closer to the man to reach the dish. As he grabbed it, he suddenly realized that his jutting breasts were pressed against Delgado's shoulder, and as he turned to face the man, he saw Delgado staring straight at his impressive decolletage, and then directly into Terry's flustered face. Terry flushed in embarrassment, and his face was burning so red that his blush went all the way to the tops of his breasts, elicting a little smirk from the man. After that, Terry noticed that Delgado's dishes always seemed to be a few inches farther away than everybody else's, causing a number of humiliating repeat performances.

For better or for worse, Terry's little peep show with Delgado did not go unnoticed by many of the other guests, either. It made his bawdy display that much more embarrassing for him, but it had another unexpected side effect. By the time they were serving coffee after cutting the cake, almost nobody except the most oblivious of guests was still hitting on him anymore. At first Terry thought it strange how some of the jerks had stopped giving him a hard time until he turned and saw Delgado giving him an admiring--and possessive--stare.

"Oookaay, time to go," Terry whispered nervously to himself.

He checked the time and realized that if he hurried he could still make it to the airport and catch his flight. He wouldn't have time to change, but by this point he was more worried about escape. He grabbed his satchel that had his wallet, passport, and tickets, and headed briskly for the door, figuring that if he walked to the coffee shop a few blocks away he could call for a cab, and then--

"I hope you're not sneaking away," Delgado said from right behind him.

Terry froze mid-step and grimaced, then slowly turned to face the man as he plastered a bright smile on his face. "I wouldn't dream of it," he said. "I just...have a quick errand I need to run. I'll come back and help clean up--"

"Don't," Delgado said firmly.

Terry swallowed hard. The last time he'd heard Delgado use that tone of voice with him was when he was in the man's office several weeks ago and Delgado had made painfully clear to Terry the dire consequences that would befall him if he were foolish enough to default on his loan. "I'm sorry?" he squeaked.

"You think I don't know what's going on?" Delgado warned, moving close to Terry. "You think I'm a fool?"

"I don't think that," Terry whispered.

"You know who I am. You know what I can do to people." He grabbed Terry by the arm.

"This is all a big misunderstanding--"

"No! No more lies. No more games. You think I didn't see through you since the moment you stepped foot into this house?"

Terry's mouth went dry, his eyes wide. "Mr. Delgado, I swear to you, I am absolutely--"

"You think I can't tell how attracted you are to me?"

"--absolutely...wild about you?" Terry added uncertainly.

"I knew it," Delgado said, taking Terry by the hands. "All those coy little glances, the sly little touches. Your subtle feminine wiles are so obvious to me, Angelique."

"I'm sure not getting anything past you!" Terry declared.

"But now you're afraid of me," Delgado said earnestly. "You know who I am, what I'm capable of. You think I'd hurt you if I got to know the real you."

"Ehh..."

"Shh, my angel," he said, putting a finger on Terry's lips. "I know this all seems sudden, but I'm a man who knows what he wants. But I'm willing to take it slow. Have dinner with me, tonight. Just the two of us. After that, if you don't want it to go any further, I swear you'll never hear from me again."

Terry stared up at Delgado. "'Kay."

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, giving Terry's hand a little squeeze.

Terry nodded slowly. "I...have to go...change," he said deliberately, eyeing Delgado carefully. "I'll go...put on something pretty...and then I'll come back--later--and we will go have dinner. Together. Sound good?"

"That sounds wonderful, my dear. I'll be counting the minutes!"

"Fab." Terry backed away slowly, a smile frozen on his face as he fumbled behind him for the doorknob. As he opened the door and slipped outside, he called, "'Kay! Toodles!" before closing the door shut. He paused for a moment on the front steps trying to process what just happened when a warm breeze came along and fluttered his skirts and petticoats around his silky hairless thighs. He looked down at himself, his chestnut hair framing his vision as he stared down at the prodigious cleavage that had captivated so many men today, including the man who wanted him dead. Who he now had a date with.

"And this is what it feels like to go insane," he whispered.

Checking the time, Terry didn't even bother going into his house next door. He would barely make his flight as it was, and the inevitable explanations and recriminations with Dave and Bonnie would take precious time he couldn't spare. He would have liked to change into another outfit or at least grab his suitcase, but if Delgado spotted him hurrying away like that, it's a good bet that "Angelique" would have some serious explaining to do.

Instead, Terry just briskly walked up the sidewalk towards the coffee shop, feeling ridiculous as his skirts and petticoats swished along and his breasts bounced in his brassiere. "I'm sure they have doctors in Bolivia," he muttered to himself. "I'll get there, I'll get situated, and they'll fix what's wrong with me, and I will look back on this as the single weirdest day in my entire li--"

That was as far as he got before somebody jumped him from behind.

Strong hands held him in place as he struggled. His abductors had placed a fabric bag over his head and pulled him into a van, and a very short drive later, dragged him into a building and forced him to sit down in a chair. As they pulled the bag off his head, Terry could see that he was sitting at a table in what appeared to be a very sparsely-decorated kitchen. Standing in front of him were two people--a man and a woman--both dressed in dark suits.

"What the fuck!" he cried.

"Please, Mr. Riley, calm down," the woman said. "We're not going to hurt you. We're with a government agency--"

"The FBI."

The woman seemed thrown by that. "We're not at liberty to say."

"We can say it's a three-letter acronym," the man volunteered.

Terry tossed his hair out of his face. "Does it end with an I, start with an F, and have a B in the middle?" he snapped.

"We can't confirm or deny--"

"I saw the surveillance equipment in the van," Terry told her. "You're watching Delgado, right?"

"Well...yes," the woman admitted. "You can refer to me as 'Agent A.' My partner here is 'Agent B.'"

Terry glanced at the man and then back at the woman. "Wouldn't it make more sense for him to be 'Agent A' since his last name is Adams?"

"How could you possibly--"

"I saw the badge on his belt when I was in the van," Terry explained. "I could see everything through that bag. What was that, crocheted?"

The woman gave her partner an exasperated look. "You wore your badge when you grabbed him?"

"I took it off later!" he retorted. "And I told you it made more sense for me to be 'Agent A.'"

"Well, this has been a treat to see my tax dollars at work, but unfortunately I have a flight to catch," Terry interjected. "So if you'll excuse me..."

"You don't even know where you are!" Adams declared.

"We were in the van like 90 seconds, tops," Terry countered. "This is that rental house down the street. We had a barbeque here a couple months ago with the last folks to stay in it. Gary and Courtney Friedman. They were visiting from Topeka. Lovely couple."

The woman closed her eyes and shook her head.

Terry grabbed his satchel purse off the table. "So, this has been fun, but...hasta la bye-bye and vaya con queso."

"Where are you going, Mr. Riley?" the woman asked.

"I'm not at liberty to say," he said with a smirk, turning towards the door.

"Any chance you'll be needing these?" she wondered. Terry turned and saw that she was holding his plane tickets and passport. She motioned for him to sit back down.

He growled and sat in the chair. "Fine. What do you want?"

"Well, for starters, we would very much like it if you didn't go running off to--" she looked down at the tickets, "--Bolivia? Really?"

"It's good for my sinuses."

Adams leaned down over him. "Meaning you breathe easier when you're not pumped full of bullets?"

"Something like that."

The woman looked at him dubiously. "And you honestly think that plan is going to work?"

"I like it better than the alternative," he asserted.

"Says the man in the French maid's costume sporting the big double-Ds," she countered. "But I'll give you points for creativity. How's that plan working out for you so far?"

Terry shrugged. "Oh, you know. 'Blink-blink, breathe-breathe.' I'm enjoying that part well enough." His eyes cut between them. "And why am I here, again?"

Adams leaned forward. "Because what you did--getting that close to Delgado--that took a lot of balls." He got a puzzled look on his face, and motioned with his finger. "You do still have--"

"Yes!" Terry snapped.

The two agents looked at each other. "It could still work," Adams said with a shrug. "For a while, anyway."

Terry looked at them suspiciously. "What are you suggesting?"

The woman sat at the table and looked Terry in the eyes. "Mr. Riley, we've been trying to get someone on the inside of Lucius Delgado's organization for years, without success. We've tried undercover agents, informants, surveillance equipment, but nothing's ever worked. That man is my white whale, Mr. Riley. I've been after him for years. But then, today, out of the clear blue, he starts fawning over you. I have no idea why, but you're our best chance to get close to him. You help us take him down and you get your life back."

"Ooh, tempting? But I'm gonna have to go with--hmm. Hey, what's a more emphatic rejection than 'No fucking way'?"

"Mr. Riley--"

"Look, Ahab, my Melville is a little rusty, but as I recall it didn't end up so great for the people who went up against the whale."

"I told you not to go with the whale metaphor," Adams interjected.

"We can protect you," the woman said. "We can even put you in the witness protection program."

"What, you mean like a new identity? Change my name, my job, wear a disguise? Way ahead of you."

"Our way, you don't have to wear ruffled panties," Adams said.

"They're starting to grow on me. And I'd rather wear them than be buried in them."

"So you'd prefer to wear women's clothes the rest of your life?"

Terry turned to face him. "If I get close to Delgado and he figures out who I really am, this outfit will be the last thing I ever wear. So from my perspective, we're really just haggling over how much time we mean by 'the rest of my life.'"

The two agents looked at each other and did a quick huddle.

"He's not trained for this," the man whispered. "We should try to get some agents undercover in the organization."

"Good idea!" she hissed. "Why don't you tell that to Manfredi and Johnson! God, I can't even look at a stuffed crust pizza without thinking about what happened to them." She turned to look at Terry, getting an idea.

"Mr. Riley, I can promise that you'll be protected at every step," she told him.

"Don't believe it."

"And once he's incarcerated, you'll get your life back. After all, Delgado doesn't know that 'Angelique Isabeaux' is really Terry Riley."

"Not gonna chance it."

"And if you provide evidence leading to his conviction, you would of course be eligible for the reward money," she said significantly.

Terry hesitated. "How much?"

She took out a piece of paper and wrote a figure on it and slid it over to him across the table.

Terry examined it for a moment. He then reached over and plucked the pen out of her hand and added a zero to the end, sliding it back to her.

The male agent's eyes grew wide. "You can't--!"

The woman raised her hand, cutting him off. Her eyes were fixed on Terry. "You have to nail him. No circumstantial evidence, no veiled threats, no ambiguously-worded discussions. Caught in the criminal act."

Terry regarded her for a long moment. "Well," he decided, "on the other hand, I suppose this is my patriotic duty. Like voting, or jury duty." He tossed his hair back over his shoulder and held out his hand. "I'm your woman," he said with a smirk. As she reached over to shake on the deal, Terry made a little face. "You know, I don't think I ever caught your name, Agent--"

"Samm," she replied.

Terry looked at her. "Samm," he repeated. "Adams," he added, looking at the man. "Really?"

"There's a reason we try and go with 'Agent A' and 'Agent B,'" she said with a shrug.

Later, the van pulled up in front of the Rileys' house as the two agents dropped Terry off. Terry was sitting in back, fidgeting.

"Stop wiggling around like that," Agent Samm admonished him. "The whole point of wearing a wire is to get information without the target's knowledge. That doesn't work if you give it away in the first five seconds."

"Hey, I have itches in places where I didn't even use to have places," Terry complained, adjusting his brassiere. "And you didn't have to be so grabby," he said, looking at Agent Adams accusingly. "And couldn't we have just put it in my purse, or something?"

"Purses get searched or left behind," Samm told him. "Just try to pick out a dark colored dress so it won't show through. And try not to let Delgado get close enough to notice it."

"If he gets that close, he might find a hell of a lot more than that," Terry muttered, tugging at the hem of his dress.

He hurried inside the house as the van drove off, pausing at the entrance to listen to see who was in the house. He took a few steps and the sound of his high heels echoed loudly on the hard floor.

"Uncle Terry!" Madison cried, rushing over to him from the family room, giving him a big hug. Claire and Jasper were there, too, following closely behind. Claire had changed, and was all done up for the dance and wearing a long flowing powder blue prom dress.

"We were so worried," Claire sighed. "Where have you been?"

"In the lion's den," Terry said. "Well, dens," he amended. "It's been a busy day for the lions. Where's your mom and dad?"

"They've already left for the dance," Claire informed him. "I told them I was going to wait here for Danny to come pick me up," she explained, not noticing how Jasper tensed up at the mention of her boyfriend's name.

"Did you miss your flight?" Jasper asked, changing the subject.

Terry nodded.

"Does this mean you'll be staying?" Madison wondered.

"I think so," Terry said. He was acutely aware of the wire he was wearing and knew that the two FBI agents could very well be listening in. "At least for a while."

The two girls hugged him. "Oh, I'm so glad you're not leaving!" Claire said, smiling.

Jasper started to move to join in on the hug, but Terry gave him a warning glare and he took a step back awkwardly.

As they broke the embrace, Madison punched him in the arm.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"What was with all that 'Angelique Isabeaux' junk? I thought we'd decided that your name was going to be Camille Delacroix!" she complained.

Terry rolled his eyes. "Sue me, I choked! And it could have been worse...the only other stripper name I could think of was Fantasia Derriere."

Claire wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, that would have looked good on the Christmas cards."

"Okay, I have to go get ready," Terry said, moving upstairs.

"Ready?" Claire asked. "For what?"

Terry turned and sighed deeply. "I have to get dressed for my date."

Upstairs, after a few tries Terry was able to jimmy open Dave and Bonnie's bedroom door, giving quiet thanks to his misspent youth. He thought of the crowd he used to hang out with and wondered what they would think if they could see him now, breaking into his sister-in-law's closet so that he could borrow a dress to wear on his date with Lucius Delgado.

"I live a charmed life," he muttered to himself as he perused the dresses in her closet.

Bonnie was a good deal smaller than him, but after some searching he managed to find a cute little black dress that seemed to fit, although his curvy and voluptuous body seemed to be in danger of exceeding the designer's specifications. On Bonnie it probably would have been stylish but understated, but his big boobs were showing a scandalous amount of cleavage in the low-cut top, and between his long torso and oversized hips and butt, the hem of the dress looked to be in danger of violating some morality laws.

Terry grimaced as he tucked his dick back between his legs and pulled his panties up tight. He felt like he'd been kicked in the nuts--which were now "playing indoors" in this uncomfortable new configuration--but the skirt was so short and tight it seemed like a necessary evil.

"Oh, if only Mama Riley could see her little boy now," he said.

Bonnie's pantyhose all looked to be too small for him, so he just stayed with the fishnet stockings and high heels from his French maid costume, wrinkling his nose a little at how cheap he looked. "Right," he muttered to himself, "because the French maid outfit was the epitome of class." But has he breezed around the bedroom, it bothered him how he seemed to be getting more proficient in the high heels.

He retrieved some jewelry from her jewelry box and sighed as he sat down at her makeup table, looking at his reflection and only then realizing that he was still wearing the lacy maid's cap in his hair. He took it off and shook his head, giving his hair a little fluff with his fingers, and with a little effort soon touched up the makeup job that Claire had done on him earlier. As he finished putting on a fresh coat of lipstick, he looked at the tube and realized he'd need something to hold his belongings other than his little maid's satchel. Glancing over his shoulder, he got up and dug around in Bonnie's closet until he found a little black purse with a shoulder strap that seemed to work.

He sighed and went over to the door and as he paused to check out his reflection in the full-length mirror, even he had to admit that the overall effect was striking. He could hardly recognize himself--and he prayed Delgado would be equally fooled--and in the tight little dress and dramatic makeup, the woman in the mirror looked like she hot to trot, wanton and sexy. "She" was no stick-thin waifish runway model, but instead was a statuesque beauty with plush womanly curves. Ironically, the exact kind of woman Terry tended to prefer, himself.

"Terrific," he sighed as he gave his hair a little toss. "Delgado and I have the same taste in women. At least we'll have something to talk about."

As he headed back downstairs Terry slowly descended the staircase, taking care on his high heels to avoid falling and breaking his neck. He delicately minced his way down the stairs, and just then Jasper chanced to be crossing through the foyer and did a hilarious double-take as he caught sight of Terry.

"Wow, Ms. Riley, you look incredible," he said admiringly, looking Terry up and down. Mostly down, Terry noted.

Terry reached the bottom of the stairs and regarded the teen reproachfully.

"Oh! I'm sorry. I mean, Angelique." When Terry's expression didn't change, Jasper furrowed his brow. "Ms. Isabeaux?" he tried.

Terry shook his head in disbelief. "Where are the girls, Jasper?"

"Oh. Um, well, Madison I think is in the kitchen, and Claire got picked up to go to the dance."

Jasper's use of the passive voice did not go unnoticed. "You mean her date picked her up."

"I guess so."

"And explain to me why you're still here?"

"Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Riley asked me to babysit Madison while they're out."

"You're not going to the dance?"

Jasper shrugged noncommittally.

Terry sighed and tugged on the teenager's arm, guiding him over towards the staircase. "Jasper, step into my office, won't you?" he said as they both sat down on the stairs, and Terry turned to look at the young man. "Let's you and me have a little chat, man to man."

The teen shifted uncertainly, his eyes glancing down quickly at Terry's exposed cleavage.

Terry rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, I guess I walked into that one. But I'll tell you something...even sitting here like this looking like I should be picking up johns on a street corner, I'm still more of a man than you. You know why?"

"Well...I'm still only sixteen," Jasper offered.

"That's not--" Terry began. Then, exasperated, he decided to cut right to the heart of the matter. "Jasper, why didn't you just ask Claire to go to the dance?"

"What?" he said, alarmed. "No! Claire and I are just friends. I don't think of her like that."

Terry locked eyes with the teen and arched an eyebrow.

Jasper's shoulders slumped. "Is it that obvious?"

"Jasper, if you were carrying any more of a torch for her, they could use it to light the eternal flame at the Olympics."

"But, Ms. Riley, she doesn't think of me that way."

"Jasper, seriously, you're killing me with that 'Ms. Riley' stuff," Terry groaned. "And the only reason she doesn't think of you that way is because you haven't told her. Girls like it when guys take charge. You have to put it on the line, man."

"But what if she says no?"

"Then she says no. And it'll suck. A lot. But then you can move on and find another girl that'll appreciate you. You're a good guy, Jasper, you deserve that much. You can't live your life in fear, you have to be a man and take chances."

Jasper thought about that for a moment. "You're dressing up as a woman to hide from a guy you owe money."

"Yeah, this is one of those 'do as I say, not as I do' situations."

Jasper rolled his shoulders in a disconsolate gesture. "So what do I do?"

"Go to the dance."

"But I don't have a date! And Claire is there with Danny."

"There'll be other girls there," Terry promised. "Dance, flirt, have fun. You're not married to Claire. I mean, just because strawberry ice cream is your favorite doesn't mean you can't try other flavors, right?"

"I'm lactose intolerant."

Terry fixed Jasper with a glare. "Look, kid, I grew a pair of tits today that Pam Anderson would be proud of, so I'm just a little bit off my game. Any chance you could meet me halfway on picking up on the metaphors?"

"Okay, yeah, I get it," Jasper nodded agreeably.

Terry gave him a little smile. "Besides, nothing makes a girl more interested in you than having another girl interested in you."

Jasper sat there for a long moment sullenly before his face lit up in dawning realization.

"Yeah, I thought you might appreciate that," Terry said. The teen sat there quietly for a minute thinking and Terry looked at him tenderly. "You okay there, champ?"

"Yeah," Jasper said absently. Then, looking up at Terry he added, "Can I get a hug?"

"Nice try," Terry warned, giving him a stern look. Then, he slapped the teen on the back warmly. "Okay, you get out of here and go enjoy yourself. I'll go get Madison."

Jasper stood up and headed for the door before he stopped and turned around. "Wait. What about your date?"

Terry waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. I've got it covered."

Back in the surveillance van, Agents Samm and Adams had been listening in on the conversation since Terry was still wearing the wire.

Agent Samm sighed heavily. "That was really kinda sweet, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Adams replied, his voice obviously choked with emotion. "I'm sorry," he said through the tears, "it's just...when I was a teenager..."

"Don't." Samm's tone was firm and unequivocal.

"But--"

"No. This whole thing has gone six ways from stupid already. I am done putting up with any more nonsense," she stated.

Adams sniffled a little and wiped his tears, then blew his nose loudly into a napkin. "There is one thing, though," he said hoarsely. "What do you suppose he meant when he said he had it cov--"

There was a knock on the door of the van.

The two agents stared at each other in surprise before Adams slowly reached for the door and opened it uncertainly. Terry was standing there with Madison by his side.

"Cooool," Madison whispered.

"Absolutely not," Samm snapped. They'd moved inside to the kitchen in the guest house and she and Terry were arguing while Adams stood in the doorway, keeping an eye on Madison who was in the family room nearby. "We are the Federal Bureau of Investigation, not a day care service!" she hissed. "Do I look like a babysitter to you?"

"You look more like a babysitter than I look like a gangster's girlfriend," Terry countered. "C'mon, it's just for a few hours, what could happen? Delgado is waiting for me right now...do you really want me to have to try and explain to him why the Rileys left their ten-year-old child in the care of a maid they've only known for one day?"

Samm closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"Guess they didn't cover this situation in the academy, huh?"

"They did train us in hostage negotiations," Adams offered.

"I think you'll find that has a lot in common with babysitting," Terry replied.

"A ten-year-old child cannot know about this operation," Samm interjected.

"No," Terry said, "a ten-year-old child does know about this operation. She even saw the surveillance van."

"Which was really cool, by the way!" Madison yelled from the family room.

"Did I mention she has excellent hearing?" Terry asked. "Look, what's done is done. We're wasting time arguing about it. Just let her veg on the couch for a few hours."

Samm grit her teeth. It looked like her head was about to explode. "Fine," she grumbled.

"Excellent."

"But it's just this one time! I mean it, Riley."

Terry stepped close to her and growled under his breath, "Well, maybe if my federal pimps didn't whore me out to a gangland boss on such short notice, it wouldn't be necessary."

He walked over to the family room where Madison jumped up to give him a hug. "I don't think you're a whore, Uncle Terry," she said as she hugged him.

"Thank you, Madison," he said primly, giving her a kiss on the top of her head. They both smiled warmly at each other and then turned to give Cheshire Cat grins to the two agents, who glanced at each other nervously.

"Is your whole family like this?" Adams said, worried.

"Nah, this one's special," Terry said proudly, touching Madison on the back. He looked down at her and said, "Okay, now, you be good. They have guns and they can shoot you."

"Back at you," Madison said. "Have fun on your date!" she smirked.

Terry shook his head in wonder. "Kids," he marveled, heading out the front door.

After he left, there was a long uncomfortable pause as Madison and the two agents all stood there, regarding each other in silence.

"Little girl," Samm finally said.

"Yep?"

"My...friend...and I have work to do. We'll be...sitting...out in the van outside for a few hours while your uncle is gone. Will you be all right in here by yourself?"

"Sure."

"We'll be busy, so don't bother us unless it's an emergency, okay? Can you do that?"

"Hey, if the van's a-rockin', I won't come a-knockin!" Madison grinned.

The woman just looked stunned and shook her head in disbelief before exiting the room.

Now just the two of them, the male agent and Madison once again found themselves standing there in silence, staring at each other for a long, awkward moment.

"Can I see your gun?" Madison asked.

"No."

"You guys have Pay-Per-View?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

"Cool," she declared as she plopped down on the couch and grabbed the remote. "Hey, I'm hungry. You want to order takeout?" she asked.

As he arrived at Delgado's house, Terry took a deep breath to calm his nerves and was suddenly distracted by the feeling of his breasts heaving over the top of the low-cut dress. He sighed and took a few steps towards the door, but hadn't even reached it when it suddenly opened in front of him. Delgado was standing there, and had dressed in a dark and closely tailored suit that showed off his muscled physique.

Terry gulped. "Wow. I'd have expected a guy your age that sells pizzas to be more...doughy," he said. When he'd met Delgado to borrow money from him he hadn't remembered the man being so physically imposing. Of course at the time he hadn't been leaving to go on a date with him while dressed as a stacked and shapely mob girl, so he had to admit his perspective might have changed.

Delgado looked him up and down. "My dear, I didn't think it possible for you to be any more beautiful, but you've gone and proved me wrong," he said appreciatively.

Terry just flashed a quick and nervous tight-lipped smile as Delgado escorted him to the driveway, where two cars were already waiting. The driver of the first car had opened the back door for Terry and Delgado to enter, and the car in back had two huge and serious-looking men sitting in front, watching Terry and Delgado like a pair of pit bulls.

"Something the matter, my dear?" Delgado asked, seeing Terry's hesitation.

"Nope!" Terry chirped, more nervously than he intended. "I was just asking myself what I possibly could have done to deserve all of this," he wondered. He looked up at Delgado and added, "I'm such a lucky girl."

And all of it bad, he thought to himself.

It was only a short ride to the restaurant, which was a local high-end Italian place that Terry had frequently seen but had seldom been able to afford. It was still a little early so the place seemed to be empty, but the maitre d' gave Delgado a warm and friendly welcome and guided them into a quiet corner. The two thugs took position a discreet distance away.

Their waiter poured the wine and quickly made himself scarce as he left them to peruse the menu. Terry peered over to note that Delgado hadn't even opened his menu, clearly already knowing what he was going to order. Instead, he was staring at Terry intently. Terry nervously took a sip of his wine and turned away so that his hair obscured more of his face. As he did so, he noticed that the restaurant was still empty.

"Kind of quiet for a Saturday night," he observed.

"My doing, I'm afraid," Delgado said smoothly. "As much as I was looking forward to showing you off on my arm, I couldn't resist the opportunity to have you all to myself."

"Oh," Terry replied, taking another nervous gulp of his wine. As his eyes scanned around the empty resturant, he started to calculate what it must have cost to shut down a place like this on a Saturday night, just for his benefit. It occurred to him that much money would have made a nice down payment towards paying off the debt he owed to Delgado in the first place, but somehow he didn't think Delgado would be willing to just call it square just on that account.

"Lucius," Terry purred. "Do you really think we need the chaperones?" he asked, eyeing the two goons.

"A regrettable necessity, my pet," Delgado said, stroking Terry's hand gently. "A man doesn't get to be in my position without making some powerful enemies."

"What, like Chester McCheddar?" Terry quipped, biting his lip and imitating the buck teeth of the Scottish cartoon mouse that was the mascot of the rival pizza chain. "Ye'll nae hide youir secret sauce recipe from me, Sharky Delgado!" he joked, doing a credible imitation of the character. To his credit, he'd even managed to do so while maintaining his female voice, making his impersonation all the more impressive. Not that he was in a hurry to brag about that to the gangster.

Delgado laughed heartily. "Ah, my dear, you are a treasure," he said, brushing Terry's hair back from his face. "But believe me when I say that the 'secret sauce' that I've built my empire on is highly confidential."

Terry shuddered at the man's touch but his eyes perked up at the insinuation. He affected a small pout, saying, "Aww, Lucius...I don't want there to be any secrets between us, do you?"

"Of course not, my angel, of course not," he smoothly replied. "But that, ah, 'sauce'...you've no idea how many men have tried to do to take it from me. And more than a few women."

Terry pulled back slightly, looking mildly offended. "You think I'm going through all this just so that I can get a taste of your secret sauce?"

Delgado leaned in close to Terry. "Angelique, my dear, you stay with me and I'll give you a taste of my secret sauce whenever you want."

Back in the FBI van, the two agents were listening into the conversation intently. Adams leaned over to Samm. "Wait. I'm confused. What's 'sauce?'"

"I think it's money," she replied, "or maybe drugs," she added, furrowing her brow as she listened.

Adams nodded slowly. "'Cause the way Delgado is talking about his 'secret sauce,' it sounded like he was talking about...something else."

"Shush!"

Terry snuggled a little closer to the man, draping his arm around Delgado's big beefy shoulders. "Ooh, don't tease a girl. How much 'sauce' does your organization make?"

Delgado shrugged. "More than you can imagine," he responded. "It depends on how many orders we get."

"Orders for what?" Terry cooed, playfully stroking his finger down Delgado's neck.

"Well...pizzas," Delgado said, perplexed.

Terry dropped his hand and pulled away. "Huh?"

"We do a lot business on a day like Super Bowl Sunday. You've no idea how much sauce we make--"

Terry shook his head, bewildered. "Wait, you lost me. What's 'sauce,' again?"

Delgado shrugged. "Sauce is sauce."

"Pizza sauce."

"Well, of course!"

Back in the van, the two agents groaned and slumped over in frustration.

Delgado looked at Terry. "Wait, when I was talking about my secret sauce, what did you think I was talking about?" But before Terry could respond, Delgado smiled in realization and glanced down at his crotch and then back at Terry with a knowing leer.

"Wait! No! No, no, no!" Terry exclaimed, pulling back quickly.

"Well, what did you mean, then?"

"I don't know! It just seemed like you were making it out to be a big secret or something. Not freaking pizza sauce."

"Hey, lots of people have tried very hard to get that recipe!" Delgado said defensively.

"Ooh, gosh, I wonder if it has basil and oregano?" Terry mocked.

"It was my mother's recipe!" Delgado protested. "When she came to this country, that recipe was all she had. She got it from her mother!"

"Okay, jeez. Sorry," Terry said flippantly.

"We used to have it every Sunday! She would make calzones after church and we'd play Parcheesi!"

"Fine! I get it! I'm sorry!" Terry snapped. Then, seeing Delgado's shocked expression, he softened his tone and moved a little closer. "It's just...you're so...passionate. It caught me off guard, is all. I love the fact that you're able to do something that reminds you of your mother," he simpered. He reached out to touch Delgado's hand and at first the man pulled away from Terry's touch, but soon relaxed as Terry gave the man's beefy hand a gentle squeeze.

Back in the surveillance van, Adams looked over to his partner. "You know, I did not peg Delgado to be such a mama's boy."

Later during dinner, Terry was nervously nibbling at his vermicelli when he realized that Delgado was staring at him.

"Like what you see?" he quipped anxiously.

"I do," Delgado admitted. "But while you've been most delightful company, I think it's time we end this charade."

Terry froze up and swallowed his pasta, dabbing his napkin to his mouth. "Come again?"

Delgado's brow furrowed as he sat back and regarded Terry like he was some kind of trained poodle. "Unbelievable. Even now, you think you can outwit me. You thought that you could just toss on a sexy little dress and makeup, do your hair differently, and I wasn't going to notice? You really weren't going to say anything the entire time, were you?"

Terry's eyes cut over at the two goons standing not far away, who seemed to have taken interest in the conversation.

"When did you figure it out?" he said hoarsely.

In the van, the two agents were frozen as they listened to the exchange. They knew there was no way they could get in there in time to intervene. Terry was on his own.

"Not at first, but soon enough. I told you, I have a good memory for faces...'Angelique.'" He shook his head. "You could at least have chosen a better name."

"I panicked. It was the first name that popped into my head," Terry admitted. He looked at Delgado in wide-eyed terror. "So...now what happens?"

"Maybe I should take you down to the Booby Trap so you can show me some of your dance moves."

Terry licked his lips nervously as he looked at the man, who was still eyeing him lasciviously. Was that going to be his game? Take the scared little tranny down to the strip club and make him show off his shapely new body, shaking his tits and ass for Delgado and the other customers? But after that ceased to amuse the man, Terry knew it was only a matter of time before the gangster finished him off for good. But if the alternative was for Delgado's goons to do the job now, he knew it was better to play for time, regardless of what humiliations he might have to endure.

"If that's what you want me to do," Terry whispered.

"You know, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

Terry looked down at himself in the skimpy little dress and then back up at Delgado. "Really?"

"Of course. You're only doing what you have to do to survive, using the assets you've been given. I respect that."

"You do."

"Still, it can't be easy to be a dancer in a place like that, with men's eyes looking at you lustfully."

Terry shook his head a little. Delgado had him dead to rights, and now he was giving him a one-man bipolar "good cop / bad cop" routine?

"I guess so," he acknowledged. His eyes narrowed a little. "What do you want from me?"

Delgado pounded his fist on the table, causing the both the plates and Terry to jump. "Ha!" he laughed, pointing a finger at Terry. "God damn, you're direct! Here I am telling you that I know you used to be a stripper, and you're all business. You really are one of a kind, you know that?"

"I'm an enigma," Terry smiled nervously, not having any idea what Delgado was talking about.

Delgado moved close, taking Terry's hands in his own. He shook his head and smiled. "'Angelique.' Ha, I remember seeing you dance at the Booby Trap a couple years ago. You were amazing. Hey, have you ever been to Bottoms Up over on 3rd?"

"I have been there," Terry admitted honestly, still trying to process the fact that Delgado had apparently mistaken him for the stripper he'd named himself after. "It's kind of a dive, but in a good way, right? It's got character."

Delgado pounded on the table again, but this time Terry smiled broadly and met the man's grin. "Another round for the lady and me!" Delgado called.

An hour later, Agent Samm was rubbing her temples and staring at her flummoxed partner. The drunken laughter of Terry and Delgado was playing on the speaker.

"Okay. Just...explain it to me again," Agent Adams said. "Is his cover blown, or not?"

"I don't think so?" she responded uncertainly. "I think he thinks he's really a stripper?"

Adams blinked uncertainly. "Wait, who thinks he's a stripper? Delgado?"

"No! Riley!"

"Riley thinks he's a stripper?"

"No, Angelique is the stripper."

"I thought Riley was Angelique?" Adams said, bewildered.

"I have no idea how I'm going to write this up," Samm muttered.

Working a very healthy buzz, Terry took another drink as Delgado laughed at his latest joke.

"You know, I just gotta say...I really love strippers," Terry observed.

"Is that right," Delgado replied, slurring his words just slightly.

"It's just...they're so down-to-earth, y'know? There's just none of that girly drama B.S. I love that."

"I love that, too," Delgado said, staring lasciviously at Terry as the oblivious cross-dressed man took another drink. "Angelique, you're not like any woman I've ever met."

"You can say that again!" Terry agreed playfully.

"Angelique..."

"Yeah?"

"Angelique..." he repeated.

"That's my name, don't wear it out!" Terry joked.

Delgado blinked slowly and then frowned and looked at Terry. "But...that's not your name."

"Say wha'?"

"Angelique isn't your name," Delgado said firmly. "That's just...something you chose."

"You mean...my stage name?" Terry guessed.

"Well, yeah," Delgado said, not noticing as Terry breathed a sigh of relief. "But I want to--"

Terry, uncomfortable with the notion of Delgado trying to guess his "real" identity, moved quickly. He put his fingers over Delgado's lips. "Shh. Please don't ask me that."

"But--"

"You know so much about me already. You see through me like glass. And I don't want there to be any secrets between us. But...the person I was before I met you, that doesn't matter. I know that you could pick up the phone any time you wanted and learn everything about me, but--just for now--maybe I could just stay as your angel?" He prayed he wasn't laying it on too thick.

Delgado stared quietly at Terry for a long moment. "I want to trust you," he said finally. The slurring of his words was gone. He sounded clear and sober. And focused.

Terry felt the blood drain from his face and forced himself to maintain his smile. He started to say something, but Delgado cut him off.

"You said you didn't want there to be any secrets between us, but in my line of work I need to know that people are loyal to me. Trust is everything."

"'Kay."

Back in the van, the two FBI agents leaned forward expectantly as they listened in.

"I need you to do something for me. It may be difficult. Call it a test if you want, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. Will you do this for me?"

Terry paused hesitantly. "'Kay."

"There's someone...a thorn in my paw. An annoyance, but in my line of work I can't afford to look weak in front of my...competition. I need to make an example out of him."

"Happy to help," Terry squeaked.

"His name--" Delgado began.

Terry was breathless, and the two FBI agents were on the edge of their seats.

"--is Terry Riley."

"Oh, for the love of--!" Samm groaned, leaning back in disgust and throwing her headset against the wall.

Terry gulped. "Sorry, who now?"

Delgado looked at him strangely. "You must have met him. You're a housekeeper in his house. The little rat-faced weasel with the ponytail."

"Oh, him," Terry said. "Actually, I saw him more as a free-spirited Bohem--" He paused when he saw the look on Delgado's face. "Oh, sure, the weasel. Rat face. I remember."

"He owes me money. A lot of money. And he's got a big mouth, always making wise with some smartass remark or other. You know the type."

Terry gave him a tight-lipped smile, nodding nervously.

"A man like that...there's no respect. And in my line of work, if I get disrespected by someone like that, it makes me look weak. I can't look weak in front of my competition."

"Chester McCheddar?" Terry volunteered weakly.

"Not exactly," Delgado said ominously.

"What would you want me to do to the, uh, the weasel?"

"You? Nothing. You just let me know where he is, and...well, you don't need to worry your pretty little head about what happens after that."

"So...you want me... to stay working over there... as a maid... until I can bring you Terry Riley." Terry blinked twice as he tried to process that statement.

"Angelique, don't pretend that this wasn't your plan all along," Delgado said. "I'm not an idiot. And I don't believe in coincidence. You honestly think I believe that it was just dumb luck that you were working in that guy's house as a maid and then you just happen to show up on my doorstep? You must have figured out that I'd be looking for the guy." When Terry didn't have an answer, Delgado laughed and added, "God, you broads are all alike. You think you're such sly little kittens, but trust me when I say that I'm always three steps ahead of you."

"Your powers of observation really are unbelievable," Terry marveled. "So...you moving in next door to the Rileys...that wasn't a coincidence, either?"

Delgado looked vaguely uncomfortable. "No, that actually was a coincidence."

"Really?"

The man looked at Terry askance. "You honestly think I'd move my family just to be close to some dweeb that owes me money?"

Terry gave a nervous little shrug. "Well..."

"That house was priced to move!" Delgado declared. "Even in this market, that was a steal. Marble flooring, new fixtures, granite countertops..."

"Spacious foyers," Terry added with a little grin.

Delgado returned the smile. "I am sorry if I startled you," he said gently.

Terry gave a little simper. "Aww, you don't scare me, you big teddy bear," he said, trying desperately to mask his sheer terror of the man.

"God, it makes my blood boil, the thought of that punk ogling you as you were flitting around in front of him in that skimpy little maid's uniform," Delgado snarled. He looked Terry in the eyes. "You don't know what seeing you in that outfit does to a man," he declared.

Terry cleared his throat gently. "Actually, I've got a pretty good idea," he admitted.

During dessert, Delgado started getting even more amorous, but Terry managed to keep him at arm's length. And although it was still relatively early in the evening, Terry begged off to make it an early night of it.

"I've got cramps," he declared. "You know, lady stuff going on down south of the border. My special time. I won't kid you, my coochie is in kind of a shambles right now. It's like Chernobyl down there."

Delgado reluctantly agreed to end things early, and waited by the table as Terry left to go "powder his nose."

Soon, returning to the table from the ladies' room, Terry's face was filled with awe and wonder. "That is the nicest bathroom I've ever been in!" he declared, pointing over his shoulder. "They even had a couch in there, how awesome is that?"

Delgado smiled and put his arm around Terry's waist as they walked out to his waiting car. He guided Terry into the back seat and then climbed in next to him.

"So...where's home?" Delgado asked.

"I'm, uh, living at the Rileys' place," Terry said hesitantly. "You know, as part of my...cover."

Delgado looked at him strangely. "But you said you just started working there. So you must not have moved your things in yet?"

"I did say that!" Terry agreed anxiously. He smiled blankly and nodded, his mind racing. "Darn this stupid period of mine, it makes me forget things."

"Where to, miss?" the driver asked.

Terry quickly mulled over his options. He couldn't go home and it wouldn't make sense to be dropped off at a hotel. He briefly considered going to the rental house where the FBI had set up, but it would have strained credibility to be living that close to Delgado, especially on a stripper's salary. To say nothing how thrilled the FBI agents would be to be introduced as Terry's housemates. He needed someplace close, someplace just seedy enough to be believable, but not so seedy as to draw suspicion.

"Miss?" the driver repeated.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Stupid cramps. So distracting," he said. He paused a moment and said, "Take me over to the Hillcrest area."

Twenty minutes later they arrived at their destination. He wished he could have called or texted ahead, but with Delgado trying to play footsies with him in the back seat Terry had his hands full trying to keep his lovesick date at bay.

The car pulled to a stop and Delgado eyed the run-down apartment building suspiciously.

"You live here?"

"It's just temporary," Terry responded quickly. "Just while I get things sorted out."

Delgado didn't seem to be buying it, so he added, "But just think how much fun it will be when I'm living right next door to you! You could just drop by any time you want and see me in my little French maid's outfit!" He furrowed his brow. "Any time... any time at all..." he sighed despondently. Then, seeing Delgado's look, he flashed a bright smile.

"I'd have thought as a stripper you'd have been traveling more," Delgado reasoned. "I remember at the time you used to live in Austin, so I would have thought you'd be staying in a hotel while you're here in town..."

"I'm just staying here with a friend!" Terry said weakly, getting flustered. He could practically see the wheels turning in Delgado's brain, and he didn't like the way the man was looking at him so skeptically.

"Fine, you got me," Terry sighed heavily.

"Oh?"

"You were right about me all along," Terry admitted. "About casing Riley's place so that I could make a good impression on you."

"Is that right."

"I know you must have girls throwing themselves at you all the time," Terry explained, playing to the mobster's ego. "I just...wanted to prove to you that I was somebody that you could trust. You know...be comfortable around."

Delgado was eyeing him thoughtfully, obviously still making up his mind, so Terry decided to put it over the top. He reached into his purse and pulled out some papers and handed them over to the man.

"So...here. A little present as a show of good faith."

Delgado regarded Terry suspiciously and looked down at the papers. "Bolivia?" he asked.

"Riley's plane tickets and passport," Terry explained. "He was obviously about to make a run for it, but I snitched them this morning while I was cleaning."

Back in the FBI van, Agent Samm spun around and glared at Agent Adams accusingly, who checked the folder where the tickets and passport were supposed to be. It was empty.

"Unbelievable. It's like being partnered with a rhesus monkey," she muttered.

Delgado looked at Terry in surprise, who just tossed his hair coquettishly and added, "I don't know where the little weasel is now, but I don't think he can make it very far. He'll be back."

"My dear girl, you truly are an absolute treasure."

Terry cleared his throat gently and pointed at the rundown apartment building with his thumb. "I actually am staying here with a friend. That part's true."

"I never doubted you for an instant, my angel," Delgado said as he gently took Terry's hand and kissed it.

Suddenly the car door swung wide as the driver opened it for him. Terry got out of the car and caught his breath as Delgado followed him out, obviously intending to walk 'Angelique' up to the door. Normally that wouldn't have been a problem apart from the fact that he didn't actually live there...he'd picked this building because he knew his friend Ray had moved into these apartments a few months ago. Or at least he thought this was the right building. He'd dropped Ray off here a few weeks ago after a wild night on the town, and he's been so wasted that he wasn't even totally certain this was the right block.

"Well, I'd invite you up, but the place is a mess...it's the maid's month off," Terry quipped, suddenly aware of the irony of that statement. "I, uh, don't like to take my work home with me," he explained.

"Think nothing of it, my dear," Delgado said, standing close. He stood there for a long quiet moment, staring at Terry meaningfully.

Terry shifted on his high heels apprehensively. He knew what Delgado was expecting.

"Well! Thanks for dinner...good food, good fun, lots of laughs," he said while Delgado continued to look at him. "Sooo...high five?" he said, raising his hand.

Suddenly and smoothly, Delgado wrapped his burly arms around Terry and pulled him into a close embrace. Before Terry could even react, the larger man started kissing him passionately.

"Mmm!" Terry protested, wiggling against the mobster's embrace, feeling his breasts mash against Delgado's manly chest. Slowly he felt one of Delgado's hands trace up the curve of his hip, past his slender waist, and up to the side of his soft, yielding breast. Terry whimpered at the violation, but as the man's hand started to give his breast a gentle caress, he suddenly realized how close Delgado's hand was to discovering the wire he was wearing.

"Okay!" Terry exclaimed, pushing him back hard with both hands. His thin little arms didn't have nearly the effect he wanted to, but the meaning was clear and Delgado took a step back.

"Angelique, I--"

"You just--slow down there, mister!" Terry warned, now totally flummoxed. "I am not that easy! Just because I'm a...beautiful woman! With--with a big rack! Who dresses in these skimpy little outfits! Like that French maid costume. And who I guess used to be a stripper..."

His voice trailed off. "Okay, I know I had a point going in to that sentence..."

"I'm sorry."

Terry looked up in stunned silence at the man. He didn't think Delgado was even capable of uttering those words.

"It's just been so long," he continued. "And I'm a man who's used to getting what he wants. And Angelique, the things I want to do to you...why, given half a chance, I'd--"

"I get it!" Terry exclaimed, desperately wanting not to hear the rest of that sentence.

"I get it," he repeated more gently. "I want those things, too," he lied. "But--"

His mind raced as he thought of every excuse a woman had ever given him. It was like a "top ten" list running through his head of his greatest turn-down hits. 'It's not you, it's me?' Always a classic. 'I want it to be special?' No, Delgado would spare no expense to make that happen. 'I'm saving myself for marriage?' Hell, he couldn't even say that one with a straight face. No, better to play to his ego, he decided. How about...

"Lucius," he started softly. "I've been with lots of guys. And I'm sure you've been with lots of girls. Sex is just...sex. And what I felt tonight--what I hope you felt--was something so much more special than that. We connected," he said emphatically, putting his manicured hand on the man's broad chest. "I've never felt that close to anyone before. I want to get to know you better, but--just for now--I think the sex would just get in the way of that. Do you know what I mean?"

I'd like to thank the Academy for this award, Terry thought to himself.

Delgado reached out and held Terry's hand and sighed. "Where have you been all my life?" he wondered. "But--"

"Also, not a good 'lady time' for me," Terry blurted out. "Atomic coochie."

"All right," Delgado conceded. "Another time, then," he said, putting his arm around Terry's waist to walk him up to the door.

Terry froze. "Um, you know...it might be less awkward if I just go on from here? My friend has a, uh--boyfriend!--who stays over a lot. It could be weird."

Delgado looked unhappy with that idea. "Angelique, there is no way I'm leaving you alone in this neighborhood until I know you're home safely," he insisted.

"What a gentleman," Terry said through a forced grin.

Terry smiled and hurried up the steps as fast as he could in his high heels and went up to the front door. He'd never even been inside Ray's new apartment, so he looked at the directory of names next to the door buzzers. To his horror, he didn't see a 'Ray Silva' listed on any of them...shit, had he chosen the wrong building? He looked again and saw a listing for a 'Conrad Silva' and decided to take a chance and pushed the button.

"Forgot my key," Terry said to Delgado by way of explanation, who stood by the car watching.

"Hello?" the voice came over the speaker. Terry wasn't certain, but it sounded like Ray.

"Hi, Ray, it's me! Could you buzz me in, please?" Terry said brightly.

"Who the hell is this?"

Terry tried to hide his wince as he turned and gave a little shrug to Delgado.

"C'mon, Ray, quit fooling around! It's me, it's um, Angelique," he said loudly enough for Delgado to overhear.

"I don't know any--"

Terry bent over the receiver and lowered his voice into a masculine growl. "It's Terry, okay? Open up or I'm a dead man!" he hissed. He then stood up straight and tossed his hair girlishly as he gave a bright smile to Delgado, who was starting to look impatient.

Silence fell, and what seemed like an eternity later there was a loud buzz as the front door unlocked. Terry grabbed the door and ducked inside quickly, pausing just for a moment to turn to Delgado--the man who wanted him dead--to blow him a sexy kiss before racing inside.

Inside, a confused Ray opened his apartment door and gave Terry a lingering once-over. Annoyed, Terry just shoved the door all the way open and pushed his way past his friend into the small apartment.

"Hey!" Ray objected. "Who are--?"

He stopped when Terry shot him an annoyed look and held a finger to his lips, indicating he should be quiet. Without explanation, Terry then grabbed the hem of his short dress and started to pull it up his body, wiggling it past his prodigious hips and butt, up over his stomach, and over his voluminous breasts.

Ray felt mixed emotions as he watched the strange woman disrobe. On the one hand, he had no idea who she was or what she was doing in his apartment. On the other hand, a hot chick with a rocking body was voluntarily stripping down to her bra and panties in front of him. So he figured he'd let it play out a little.

"Lady, are you--"

Terry shot him a look and turned his body so that the wire was visible, taped to his skin. He yanked it off with a wince and spoke into the microphone.

"And that's our show for the evening, folks. Remember to tip your waitress. I'm signing off for now. Over and out," he declared as he switched off the device and tossed it on the coffee table.

He started pulling the dress back down again and wiggled and shimmied as he adjusted it over his feminine curves. As Ray watched the show, his eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?"

Terry straightened up and tossed his long hair out of his face.

"Dude, you would not believe the day I've been having," he said in his normal masculine voice.

Later, the two friends were seated on Ray's couch as Terry had a stiff drink. Ray stared in wide-eyed disbelief at his friend, gawking openly at his friend's oversized tits as Terry tossed his head back to finish off the contents of the glass.

"I told you to get out of town," Ray said, shaking his head.

"You also told me to volunteer for those stupid medical experiments, and look how well that turned out!" Terry retorted as he grabbed at his big soft knockers.

"Well, why'd you give Delgado your passport?" Ray asked. "I mean it's not too late to run, right? No way he'll be looking for you lookin' like that."

"Run where?" Terry sniffed. "I think lover boy would scour the earth looking for his 'angel,'" he countered as he picked up the bottle and refilled his glass. "And tits or no tits, if I go on the run he'll be looking for both Angelique and Terry. Then how long do you think it would take for him to figure out who I really am?"

He looked nervously over his shoulder.

Ray followed his gaze, puzzled. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"I'm in way over my head already," Terry whispered. "I don't need your roommate walking in and hearing all this."

"Who?"

"You know, that Conrad Silva guy. I saw his name on the list downstairs."

Ray laughed. "Dude, I'm Conrad Silva. Ray's just a nickname," he explained.

"What the hell kinda nickname is 'Ray'?" Terry shot back. "That's like being nicknamed 'Kevin' or 'Todd.'"

Ray shook his head. "So...what are you gonna do?"

"What else can I do? I gotta stick to the plan."

"The plan," Ray said flatly. "That would be the plan where you doll yourself up as a woman who dresses as a French maid and is pretending to help turn yourself over to a gangster who wants you dead, all the while trying to milk said gangster for incriminating information even as he tries to make you his girlfriend. That plan?"

"It's not a perfect plan," Terry admitted.

"Is it something about the tits that make you chicks crazy?" Ray wondered.

"I'm not a chick!" Terry protested, tugging at the hem of his skirt. "Mostly," he amended. "But what am I supposed to do? The FBI won't let me go unless I help nab Delgado. And Delgado won't trust me unless I get him information on Terry. And the only way I can seem to do that is if I stay in my house as Angelique."

"Swishing around in your little petticoats and carrying a feather duster," Ray said. "I'm looking forward to seeing that," he teased. "And your brother and sister-in-law are okay with all this?"

Terry glanced away as he took a sip from the glass. "They...don't really know what's going on," he muttered.

When Ray gave him an accusing glance, he added, "They saw me dressed like this, but they don't know why."

"So what are you gonna tell 'em?"

"I haven't figured that out yet," Terry admitted. "That's why I need you to give me a lift somewhere."

"Great," Ray replied. "Driving around town snuggled up with Delgado's new girlfriend. There's a fast trip to a shallow grave," he groaned. Then he said, "And if Delgado sees through your little masquerade, what do you think happens to you then?"

"God, don't be such a woman," Terry said. "And you and I will not be 'snuggling,'" he added haughtily. He crossed his arms, but was temporarily frustrated when his boobs got in the way. "And as for the rest, well, Delgado wants me dead, remember? What's the worst he can do? Kill me more? I'm no worse off than I was."

Ray looked over his friend, his eyes settling on Terry's chest, which his folded arms had pressed into an impressive cleavage.

"I dunno, you tell me," Ray said. "Lookin' the way you do now, what is the worst he could do to you?"

Terry's brow furrowed in concern as he looked down at himself and considered that possibility. "Well, you're just a freaking ray of sunshine, aren't you?" he declared. He paused for a moment as he realized what he'd just said. "Oooh, I get it, now."

"There it is," Ray said.

Dave and Bonnie were standing off to the side of the high school gymnasium which had been decorated for the dance. Several dozen teens were in attendance, many of them out on the dance floor and many more hanging out around the periphery, sitting at tables and talking or just generally hanging out with their friends. Dave stood next to one of the folding tables that had been set up with refreshments and picked up of one of the cookies they'd brought, which had been sitting largely untouched. Next to them was the pile of potpourri sachets, which had gone completely ignored. He took a bite and made a face, discreetly putting the rest of the cookie back on the tray.

"I lost her," Bonnie said, her eyes scanning over the crowd. "Dave, do you see her? I don't see her."

"Check your phone. Maybe the GPS tracker is still working."

She gave him an exasperated look. "You're not funny, you know," she told him. "You think you're funny, but you're not."

"Honey, relax. Claire's a responsible girl. She's sixteen. Let her have a little fun."

Bonnie nodded slowly. "Danny is sixteen, too."

"I don't see what that has to do with--"

"Remind me again how old you were when you lost your virginity?" Bonnie asked.

Dave stared at her. "I'll go make a quick orbit," he said, turning to look at the crowd.

"Text me when you spot them," Bonnie said as she resumed her search.

"How's it going, you two?"

They both turned and saw Terry standing there, looking quite fetching as he smiled and struck a sexy pose in his skimpy little black dress.

"Terry?" Dave gasped. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"You can't be here like...that!" Bonnie said, aghast. Then she hesitated and said, "Oh, my God, are you wearing one of my dresses?"

Dave cocked his head to the side. "That not one of your dresses, is it?" he wondered.

Bonnie spun to look at him. "I wore that for our date night last week!"

Dave looked back to Terry and examined the dress, which was scandalously hugging his brother's curvy figure. "Oh, wow, is that what it's supposed to look like?" he wondered. Then, he shut up when Bonnie shot him an evil look, and cleared his throat awkwardly as he gestured at Terry. "Terry, what's going on? This, and then that maid's costume this morning?"

Terry looked at them earnestly--Dave regarding his brother with concern, Bonnie more accusingly--and he affected a sigh. Show time.

"Look, I'm sorry about this morning, and I know this must all seem like a shock," he said. "And you wouldn't believe what I've been through recently. But you've been good to me, and you deserve to know the truth." He took a deep breath. "I've decided that I'm going to become a woman."

Dave and Bonnie burst out into laughter.

Terry was nonplussed as they kept laughing. "C'mon, guys, it's not funny," he said, feeling a little self-conscious.

Dave found his voice first while Bonnie was still giggling. "You." Dave shook his head, chuckling. "You want to be a woman."

"Well, yeah..."

"Terry, you've spent your whole life chasing after anything in a skirt. Once I even saw you make a pass at a guy in a kilt in a bar on St. Patrick's Day."

Terry raised a finger. "Okay, now that was an honest mistake, he had long hair!" he said defensively. "And...I like girls, what can I say? I like girls so much that I want to be one," he contended. "I chased skirts, but now I get to wear them."

"Uh huh," Bonnie said flatly.

"Look, I know I've kept this side of me a secret from you. And I know you don't trust me because of all the money stuff," he explained as Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "And--yes--at first my gambling was to blame, that's true. But that's all behind me! The reason--the real reason--I've needed so much money lately is to pay for my hormones and surgeries and stuff."

Dave was stunned. "You...you want this, little brother?"

Bonnie looked at him, incredulous. "Don't tell me you actually believe this load of horse manure?"

Terry's hand darted out and grabbed Bonnie's wrist. Before she could react, he placed her hand on one of his breasts, so her fingers were groping it like she was feeling a cantaloupe in the supermarket.

"I--!" she objected, then her face contorted into a befuddled grimace. "This--this is--those are--"

"They're new," Terry admitted.

Bonnie jerked her hand back like she'd just touched something hot, and stared at Terry in disbelief.

Dave hesitantly started, "Look, Terry--"

"Angelique."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm not Terry anymore. I want to put that behind me. From now on, I want to be Angelique Isabeaux. I know this is hard--it's hard on me, too!--but please don't ever call me Terry again," he said, mentally adding, especially not in front of our neighbors.

Bonnie looked ready to make another objection, so Terry hurriedly added, "But, I promise! I'm going to be a new person. No more secrets, no more lies," he lied. "And I know I've taken advantage of you guys the last several months, and I want to make it up to you. I don't just want to help, I want to carry my fair share. I really do. I want to be your maid, just like I said this morning."

Bonnie gave him a skeptical look. "Dressed in that...costume," she said dubiously.

"Well, yeah," Terry simpered. "I know it's silly, but my therapist says it's good for me. She says that as a guy I used to objectify and use women, so it's good for me to learn what that feels like. You know, to make me a better, um, woman."

Dave shook his head. "Look, Ter--I mean, Angelique?--you don't have to wear--"

"Yes, he does," Bonnie interrupted.

Dave was about to object, but Bonnie cut him off, her eyes fixed on Terry.

"I'm so sorry, I meant 'she,'" she corrected, with the tiniest hint of sarcasm in her voice. "No, no, if mincing around in that humiliating little outfit like a sex kitten is what Angelique here needs to make her a more complete woman, who are we to stand in her way? I think we should do everything we can to help her out."

Dave didn't seem to notice, but the look on Bonnie's face as she stared into Terry's eyes showed that she knew something was up. But she also wasn't going to miss the opportunity to see her deadbeat brother-in-law debase himself in front of everyone.

"That's really generous of you," Terry gulped. "And I am really sorry for borrowing your clothes without asking--" he started to apologize.

"Oh, don't be silly!" Bonnie said in a patronizing tone. "In fact, why don't you keep the outfit," she offered. "After all, you look so sexy in it! I'm sure the guys will be all over you," she teased. "And Angelique, I am so looking forward to getting closer to you...a lot closer. In fact, I hope that every time you wear that dress, you'll think of me, right at this moment."

Terry cleared his throat. "I'm sure I will."

Bonnie tsked in mock distress. "Oh, you poor thing! Your whole life, forced to live a lie," she said significantly. "I'm just so happy to be there to help you blossom into womanhood."

Dave's eyes cut between the two of them, not quite sure what was going on.

"Right," he agreed slowly. "But...what are we going to tell the girls?"

"Oh, they know already," Terry replied. Facing their shocked expressions, he hurriedly added, "Sorry, they just found out. They're totally cool with it, though."

Bonnie's haughty demeanor evaporated. "You told our children?"

Just then, Claire walked up briskly with a big smile on her face. "Oh, hey, Angelique!" she said brightly, giving Terry a kiss on the cheek. "Dang, lookin' hot, girl!" she said, admiring his outfit. She snapped her fingers and pointed at his ear. "Ah, yep! Those were the earrings I was hoping to borrow," she observed.

"Your mom just gave them to me," Terry said. "Feel free to borrow them anytime."

"Cool!" She turned to her parents blithely, who were looking at her open-mouthed.

"Okay, I'm gonna go find Danny," she announced as she gave Terry a sly wink, which he returned with an equally covert eyebrow flash of appreciation.

"Don't have sex!" Bonnie blurted out. Then, wincing, she said, "I mean, have fun!"

"Wow, subtle," Terry remarked.

Bonnie shot him a deadpan look. "I will not be given parenting advice from a transsexual who comes to a high school dance dressed like a call girl, 'Angelique.'"

"I prefer the term 'person of transgenderness.'"

"You are not transgender," Bonnie declared.

Terry gave his bosom a little fluff. "Hey, give 'em another grope if you don't believe me!"

"I will do no such thing," Bonnie sniffed indignantly.

Dave was still staring at his brother's impressive cleavage on display and slowly started to move one of his hands.

"And neither will you!" she snapped.

"Hey...I can be skeptical too, you know," Dave replied.

Terry scanned the room and spotted what he'd been looking for, and started to walk away.

"And where are you heading?" Bonnie challenged.

Terry spun on his heels and flashed her a grin. "Off to do a good deed. It's the new me!" he declared, gesturing at himself with a flourish before continuing on his way.

Dave dumbly watched Terry's mincing retreat, desperately trying not to take notice of his brother's ample round backside that was swinging provocatively under the short skirt of his dress.

"What?" Bonnie challenged him, reading his flummoxed expression.

"I'm just trying to figure out how we're going to write all this in our annual Christmas letter," Dave said.

Terry crossed the gymnasium, drawing a number of looks from the assembled teens, and more than a few lustful stares from the boys. When he reached the other side, he walked right up to Jasper, who was sitting off by himself.

"You know, when I suggested that you go do the dance, I think that dancing was kind of implied," Terry said with a smirk.

Jasper looked up in surprise. "Are you following me, or something?"

"Congratulations, you have your very own tranny godmother," Terry quipped, taking him by the hand.

As Terry pulled him up out of his seat, Jasper's eyes went wide in alarm. "What are you doing?"

"You're a smart kid, I'm sure you'll figure it out," Terry said as he pulled him out onto the dance floor.

It was a slow dance and Terry grabbed Jasper's hands and placed them around his wide feminine hips before draping his own arms around the teen's neck. Jasper stood there uncertainly for a second, anxiously glancing at the other teenagers who had taken notice of the odd couple.

Terry raised an eyebrow and said, "Please don't tell me that you're going to make me lead, too."

Embarrassed, Jasper took the lead and they made their rounds around the dance floor. Some of the other couples took notice of them and he could hear them whispering.

"Why are you doing this, are you trying to embarrass me?" Jasper whined.

"God, will you try and relax and have fun?" Terry admonished the teen. "You know you're loving this. You--" He paused and looked Jasper in the eyes. "Watch the hands, Romeo," he warned.

"Sorry," Jasper apologized as he adjusted his embrace.

Terry gave a little toss of his hair. "It's like I said, having a girl show interest in you makes you more appealing. I'm boosting your cred."

"But how does that help my chances with Claire?" Jasper asked. "If she sees me dancing with you, she's not going to get jealous. She knows who you are."

"True," Terry admitted. "But the other girls don't," he said with a grin.

"And when they ask, how am I supposed to say that I know you?"

Terry looked around and leaned close and whispered something in Jasper's ear. Jasper stared off into space for a moment and his face lit up in realization.

"Ooh, I get it," he said.

Terry danced with Jasper through the next few songs before they sat down to take a break. Pretty soon thereafter, the two of them found themselves holding court over by one of the tables surrounded by a small crowd, with many of the guys giving Jasper slaps on the back and high fives. A couple of the girls eyed Jasper with a bit more interest, and several guys and girls were gathered around Terry as he regaled them with some stories or other. After a while, Terry excused himself and walked over by Dave and Bonnie who stared at him in disbelief while he started to pour himself some punch from the bowl.

"What the hell is all that?" Bonnie challenged him.

Terry took a sip of the punch and almost gagged. "Ugh, are you telling me this isn't spiked?"

"It has antioxidants in it," Bonnie said defensively.

"Yeah, I figured it had somebody's aunt as an ingredient," he said. "And I'm just giving Jasper a little social boost. What's wrong with that?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Let me guess. You're pretending to be a cute girl from another school who fawns over him? Don't you think you're a little old to be passing yourself off as a high school student?"

"Oh, no," Terry said with a smile. "That's not it. They think I'm a hooker that Jasper hired to escort him to the dance."

"What?!"

"You gave me the idea when you said I looked like a call girl," Terry explained. "The guys all think he's completely awesome. Now they all want to do it. I told them you were okay with it, and they all think you're the coolest chaperones ever. You're welcome, by the way."

Bonnie was still staring at him in open-mouthed shock, but Dave managed to find his voice. "Wait. So, all those kids over there that you're talking to..."

"Oh, they're just curious," Terry explained.

"Curious about you being a hooker?" Bonnie exclaimed, causing a few people to look in their direction.

"Kids today are so wordly," Terry marveled. "Honestly, they're teaching me some things," he said.

"Wait a minute," Bonnie said in alarm as something occurred to her. "If you and Jasper are both here, who's watching Madison? You left her home alone?"

Terry raised his hands. "Hey, don't worry," he said reassuringly. "I used a service."

"Well...they'd better be bonded!" Bonnie proclaimed.

"Of that, I'm quite certain," Terry assured her. "Well, back to work," he said, heading back over to the table, giving Jasper a little wave.

Dave and Bonnie just watched him leave, not sure what to say or do.

"We're gonna be hearing about this at the next PTA meeting," Dave said.

After the dance was over, the students started going their separate ways and the newly-popular Jasper gave Terry a goodbye hug that was both longer and more vigorous than Terry had intended it to be. As Terry was reorganizing himself after the embrace, Claire came up to him.

"Hey, you," he said to her. "Where's your date?"

"Oh, he bailed," Claire groaned. "He thought he had a shot at a cheerleader."

"Ouch, sorry," he said sympathetically. "You know, I dated a cheerleader once. If it makes you feel any better, she'll probably have his balls in a sling within a week."

"Well, that's something," she agreed, walking alongside Terry as they headed towards the exit. "You know, that was pretty cool, what you did for Jasper."

"Yeah, well, when life gives you melons..." he smiled, tugging at the neckline of his dress.

"Uh huh," Claire said, shooting him a look. "Unfortunately, not all of us are such early bloomers," she grumbled.

"Sorry, I don't mean to keep rubbing your face in them."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Are you about done?"

"Oh, no, I've got a bunch more," he assured her. "Things are stacked in my favor."

"Ugh."

"Hey, I intend to milk this as long as possible."

"Eww," she giggled.

"I may be broke, but I'll never be flat busted again..."

Back in the guest house with the two FBI agents, Agent Samm tried to type up her report while Agent Adams was seated on the couch next to Madison as they played Call of Duty.

"You are terrible at this!" Madison complained. "And they actually let you carry a gun in real life?"

"I can't believe it, either," Samm said to herself.

The doorbell rang, and when neither Adams nor Madison made a move, Samm stood up in annoyance.

"Relax, I've got it," she deadpanned. As she opened the door, she saw Terry standing there with Claire next to him.

"Are you freaking kidding me with this?" she snapped. "Another one? Why don't we just hang a big sign outside that says 'FBI Stakeout!'" She then turned to Claire. "I suppose you'd like to have a look at the surveillance van, too?"

Claire stood there wide-eyed. "Uh..."

Terry winced and looked at Agent Samm. "I actually hadn't told her you were FBI agents. We just came over to pick up Madison."

Samm's jaw dropped as she looked at him and she realized what she'd done.

"I'm gonna go lie down," she said, shaking her head and leaving the room.

"Ready to go?" Terry asked Madison.

She tossed down her controller and looked at Adams seriously. "You need to train at least two hours a day on this. That was a disgrace."

Chagrined, Adams stood up and made eye contact with Terry, who just shrugged. Meanwhile, Madison stopped to grab one last slice of pizza for the road, and as she did so, Terry could see the name on the box: Delgado's Pizza.

Terry gestured at the pizza box and looked to Adams. "Really?" he asked, incredulous.

"Hey, the first two toppings are free on a large pie," Adams countered. "Seriously, I don't know how that guy stays in business." Then he paused for a moment. "Oh, right."

Terry shook his head and escorted the two girls outside, starting their short walk home.

"Look, guys, just remember you can't tell your folks about the FBI or Delgado or any of that," Terry cautioned them. "As far as they're concerned, I just decided to start living like this, okay?"

They nodded.

He sighed. "God, I can't believe I dragged you into this. I should never have put you in this position."

Claire gave him a reassuring nudge. "Don't worry about it, we'll be fine," she assured him. Then she shook her head in wonder. "What I can't believe is that you're gonna have to dress like a French maid all the time," she giggled.

Terry shot her a testy glance.

"Um, I mean, wow! I can't believe you get to dress like a French maid all the time," she said flatly. "You're so...lucky."

Terry sighed. "Well, at least I get to be around my favorite people," he said, putting his arms around the two girls as they walked.

Madison's eyes lit up as something occurred to her. "Ooh! If you're our servant now, does that mean you have to do what we tell you to do?"

Terry's eyes grew wide. "Um, I would really appreciate if you didn't take advantage of that," he said hesitantly. "A merciful nature is the endowment of the bigger person."

Claire leaned against him as they walked. "That's a funny quote...who said that?" she wondered.

Suddenly her eyes cut over at his large bosom and then down at her less developed chest. She pulled back and punched him in the arm.

"Ow! Hey! Sorry!" he laughed. "I told you, I've got a million of 'em."

"'Merciful nature,' huh? You know, it's been a while since I invited my friends over for a sleepover. I'm sure they'd all enjoy being able to boss around our new French maid!"

Terry paused and thought about that. "Hmm...a bunch of teenage girls running around in their sleepwear with me at their beck and call," he remarked with a little leer.

Claire's face fell. "Oh. Right," she said, picturing the scene. "Well, I'll think of something, 'Boom Boom,'" she warned.

Terry smiled and pulled her close again as they continued walking. "I've no doubt," he said as he gave her a little kiss on the head.

After a moment, Claire's brow furrowed and she looked at Terry inquisitively. "Uncle Terry, there's just one thing that's been bothering me?"

"What's that, princess?"

"Well...I'm sure you had a reason, but when Mom caught you coming down the stairs in your dress and she assumed that it was Terry that had hired Angelique, why did you correct her and say that it was Dad? I mean, if she'd thought that Uncle Terry had hired a French maid, she would have fired you on the spot and you could have just walked right out the front door, free and clear."

Terry froze. His jaw dropped a little as he got a faraway look, and his eyes darted around as his mind raced. He didn't say anything, but eventually he looked down at his two nieces with a bewildered look on his face.

Claire broke into a warm smile. "Well. I'm glad you did," she said as she hugged him closer. "It's fun having you around."

Madison looked up at him. "Can we call you Fifi?" she wondered.

"Don't push your luck," Terry said, walking them home.

THE END