“I wonder if 'Tranny-Granny will be here tonight.” said Jessica as they made their way through the crowd.

“Odds are she will. She's never missed a night to my knowledge. Every time I've been here, she just sits at her stool from open to close. It's sad, like she's waiting for someone.” Katie answered. “But I hope I'm out and about at her age.”

“Who is 'Tranny-Granny.'” asked Jenny looking puzzled.

“She's this crazy old cross-dresser, and when I say old we're talking ninety, give or take a year.”

Cierra closed her eyes and drew in a breath. When she released it … the life in her body seemed to leave her. When she opened her eyes the sparkle had faded and the blue was almost grey. Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I … I’m sorry. I … I just wanted to try … to try extra hard ‘cause … ‘cause now I understand … and … and well … I just think I could get there you know. I think if I tried with … with all that I am … that I could make something happen."

Heather sat on her stool still deep in thought. The quiet hours at the club were therapeutic for her. Everyone on the full-time staff knew about her condition, so there was no need to hide it here in her sanctuary. She had a couple of weremen on staff, like the large framed front door bouncer, Eric. He went by Erica during the day, but liked to hulk up most if not every night. She didn't have any werewomen on the staff, better to make pack sisters out of them than employees.