“So…you going to the wedding?”

Generally speaking, my brother is a good guy. I have to speak in generalities, because when you get into the specifics it breaks down a little. Like right now. He’s sitting here, playing Monolith, and pestering me about going to another family wedding.

It’s not that I have anything against family weddings, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that they make me depressed: The girls standing around in their beautiful dresses, smiling and sharing their secrets; the beautiful bride in hear beautiful dress; and any of a number of other little things that just make me ache inside.

I want to be a girl. I want it so badly that it hurts in a physical pain. I feel my heart breaking a little bit as I think about what this new wedding will mean.

The last of my first cousins is getting married, so it will be the last wedding. My parents were the first to marry on my dad’s side of the family. They were second on my mom’s. And mom and dad came from good sized families.

I have fourteen married first cousins. Fourteen moments in which I have been stuck there in a suit and tie, wanting to be stuck there in a beautiful dress.

Yes, I meant stuck. You see, we have this tradition in our family that the wedding party is made up of family. Even the best man and the maid of honor. I like the tradition, but you still have to stand around for a couple of hours in a receiving line, waiting for people to arrive so that the real party can begin.

Not too bad. I get to see all the pretty dresses as they pass by, and no one expects anything different from me other than standing there with a wooden expression and a fake smile plastered on my face.

So, while it is sort of expected that I show up to the reception, I’ve bowed out.

Somewhere down the line I decided that fourteen wedding parties were enough and I didn’t need a number fifteen.

I am the second oldest of all of my cousins. That means that by the time any of them were ready to tie the knot, I was right there. I was best man to three of them, and groomsman to the rest. One of the guys I was best man to was actually my cousin’s fiancé at the time.

That was likely the most difficult bachelor party of them all.

“Cray? You there, man?”

I’d gotten lost in my own thoughts as I considered his question.

“I’m just not up to it, Jeff.”

“It’s the last one…well at least till you get married.” He says with a smirk. The smirk is because he thinks I’m gay.

He’s half right. I am attracted to men. Thing is, so is any other hetero girl. “Jeff, I’m not getting married.”

So many times in the past I’ve explained this to him, and my parents, and grandparents…and a lot of other members of my family.

“Why not just ask Angela? You two have been dating forever.”

“Maybe I will.” I say sarcastically.

“No need to be rude.” He responds.

I leave his room, and walk out to my car. I still don’t know what possesses me to spend time with him. He is my brother, but he’s also one of the most bigoted people I know. Harsh, I know, but necessary to say.

I’m still upset with him, as I take a seat in my electric blue Neon. The only reason I purchased it is because it was the exact same shade as this nail polish I drooled over as a teen. The car comes to life in a little purr. I think that’s part of the reason people think of it as a car “for girls.” It is unassuming. It has a little bit of power under the hood though, and I’ve shocked some people with the speed that I can get it off the line.

He told my parents that I’m gay. That’s most of the reason I told them the truth. I tried to explain to them what it means to be transgender. My mom kinda got it, but my dad doesn’t get it at all. He thinks that it’s a phase, or me lying to myself.

I tried to explain that I identified with characters like Jamie Summers and Wonder Woman and he blew it off saying that they were “Very Masculine” in their behavior. Even my mom glared at him over that one.

My dad is a product of his upbringing, and for a genius he can be a little dense. No, he really is a genius, technically speaking. He has a 135 IQ. Mom is a bit below that at 130.

My brothers fall generally in the same range. My sister has a 148.

Not sure why I mention her. I mean, she is the second smartest in the family. I top out at a lofty, nosebleed waiting to happen of 169.

No, my grandmother, dad’s mother, is the second most bigoted person I know. She successfully indoctrinated my dad to such a degree that he doesn’t even question some of the stupid things that come out of his mouth. Like the fact that it is impossible for there to be a beautiful female scientist, because beautiful women don’t need to apply themselves mentally.

Sorry, that’s the family I live with.

I drive home as I continue to ponder the inequities of life. I wave to Angela as I pass her heading for my apartment. Living next to her is nice. I can go over and talk to her whenever I like. Makes life easier living as me.

Or I should say the only me that I’m allowed to be.

I have no plans of transitioning as it would hurt my mom too much. And my sister. I really don’t think I could disappoint either of them like that. I really respect their opinions.

Tonight, I indulge myself a bit and take a bath. I take baths on a regular basis so I can just soak and forget things for a while. The water soothes me. Not as much as swimming does, but at least a little. Of course, that act shows me my other shame.

No, not my maleness. My weight. I am so far overweight that it pains me to even see myself in the mirror anymore. At six-five I should be around two-hundred, or I should say I would prefer to be that weight. I’m almost three-twenty.

I would consider making it a bubble bath, but I have to at least pretend to be a guy.

It hurts to pretend.

For some reason, I'm more restless than normal, so I quickly get out of the tub and head to my living room. I sit there naked and dripping on my plush carpeting and my supple leather couch.

I should really dry off before sitting down, but I don’t. It’s because of times like this that I have a tab at an upholstery shop. I get this couch re-upholstered a couple of times a year. I have to have something to spend my money on.

Even with these little splurges, my bank account is a lot larger than I’d prefer it to be. I want to spend money, but I feel guilty spending it on myself. I tried the whole dating thing, but it never went anywhere.

So, I live in my modest apartment, in a modest part of town, and live my modest life, while my money sits and compounds.

I turn on the television and surf for a bit before I hit a commercial for a new ‘nano-potion.’ I wonder once again if the invention of nano-tech in 2005 was really worth it. The world is such a different place than it was back then, but isn’t that always the case?

One moment you’re convinced that the iPod is the most advanced piece of technology in the world, and the next you are poping an iEye contact in so that you can watch in the comfort of your own mind…or so the advertising goes. I have enough problems putting in prescription contacts.

Yes, I wear glasses. One thing I will admit, nano-constructed invisible frames are the best thing to ever be invented. I even forget I am wearing glasses sometimes, to be honest.

Maybe that’s what I should spend my money on: corrective surgery. I consider that for a few moments letting the inane advertising wash over me. All of these potions are the same. They’re all supposed to make you beautiful, successful, and/or get you laid more. No one has ever really explained how a potion laced with bio-mechanicals is supposed to do that for you.

“Hey, Cray. You in?”

“Angela? Wait a moment.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen, and besides, you’re not my type and you know it.”

It’s meant in fun, but it still hurts.

“Just because I’m fat…”

“It’s because you’re a woman, and you know it.”

“Not that I look much like one.”

“On one of those kicks are we? So, Cray, when can we meet for the after party so that you can tell me all about the clothing at this wedding?”

“Not going.”

“What are you talking about? You always go…”

“Not this time. Frank wanted a non-family member as his best man. He’s only marrying in after all. That means that unless we want an uneven number of participants, I got the option to sit out. My brother Jeff is trying to convince me to take his place. He hates weddings almost as much as I do, although for different reasons.”

“Yeah, can’t miss out on raid night.”

We both laugh. It’s an old joke with us. The advent of immersive games sort of spelled the end of the ‘traditional’ massively multiplayer games, but it spawned games in a similar vein. More specifically it spawned one game. No one really competes with Monolith.

The joke was that Monolith had none of the things that populated the ‘old school’ online games. No raiding or such…

I smile for a bit and think of the old days when I could play a female character in those games and let myself be…me for a couple of hours a day.

Monolith doesn't allow you to present as a different gender.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You and I can have another movie night?” Angela makes it a question, even if it didn’t seem like it should be.

“I guess…”

“Wow, you’re really down on yourself this evening.”

“Angela, I’m fat. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I’m masculine. Not just male, but masculine. It’s part of the reason I started binging in the first place. I ate to feel better, which made me guilty, so I ate to feel better…”

“Look, hon, we’ve all been there. Every girl…”

“But that’s just it, I’m not a girl, and I’m never going to be one!”

“Liadan, sit your ass back down on that couch and stop yelling.”

I shut up and sit down. It is the shock of hearing her use my name. Not the name my parents gave me, but the one she gave me. It’s Celtic, or something, and means Lady, I think.

It reminds me of who I wanted to be every time she used it. She saves it for special occasions, and chewing me out for self-pity is one of them.

“Liadan, you know you are a woman, in your heart. No matter what you look like, you are a woman.”

“But I don’t look like one, and no man would ever…”

She looks at me with an arched eyebrow.

I blushed. “I meant that no heterosexual man would ever want me.”

“Is that really a problem?”

“You know my parents…”

“I do, and one of these days you’re just going to have to do something and expect them to follow along. Make your own choices, Li.”

“Just cause my name is pronounced Leedan, doesn’t mean you get to shorten it into a boy’s name.” I say and stick my tongue out at her.

I begin to really relax as Angela and I talk for a little longer. I grab the single piece of female clothing I own, a flower printed kimono, and come back out to the living room again. She brushes my hair for an hour or so, and we talk. I’m still not going to the wedding, even if it is a Social event. It’s just not the same in a tux, even if it is tailored perfectly. Tuxes are designed to be looked at, not moved in.

Not like a dress. Sure, many dresses are designed like tuxes, form over function, but even so, you still have some freedom of limb at least.

“I’ve never known anyone who loves getting their hair brushed as much as you do,” Angela says as she finishes plaiting my tresses. I just smile in contentment. My hair is almost to my butt, when I leave it loose. The only thing that saddens me about it is the grey.

“I’m too old, Angela. If I transition now, what will be the point. I’m set in my ways.”

“Thirty-seven isn’t old.” She chides, “And it’s not like you’ll have children.”

I begin to cry. It comes out of nowhere, this feeling of hopelessness. Angela just sits behind me and holds me. She’s a good friend. I feel so feminine sitting there in the kimono she bought me, with my hair in a braid down my back.

She speaks softly to me, but I don’t understand her words, and before I know it I’m asleep.

I wake up to the sound of my phone. I turned off voicemail a couple of years ago because I hate returning phone calls. It rings for about five minutes before I finally find it and answer.

“Hello?”

“Cray?” It’s my mom’s voice.

“What time is it?”

“Four am. Look, sorry to be calling you so early, but Jenny’s sick.”

“And…”

“And I know I’m going to regret saying this, but could you be a girl for the wedding?”

This has to be a dream. I try to temper the feeling of my heart soaring with the knowledge that it will hurt all the more when I wake up.

“How am I going to do that?”

“Your dad is going down to the store to pick up a Femin-U potion.”

“A what?”

“We saw it last night on TV. Apparently it transforms you into a girl for about a day. Then you turn back. We figure we’ll get one for the fittings today, and then you take another for the wedding next week.”

“How ‘bout I decide this when I actually wake up?” I ask.

“There’s no time. Kate is picking you up in about two minutes.”

My doorbell rings.

“That’ll be her. Love you, sweetie. You’ll do fine.”

I’m so dazed that I go to the door in my kimono with my hair still braided.

“Hey, sis,” Kate says.

“Sis?”

“Well, at least for today, and it looks like you’ve already gotten started.”

“No, that was me last night,” Angela says from my couch.

“You two have a sleep over last night?”

“Sort of…your sister was a bit suicidal again.”

“I was not,” I say, but my blush gives me away.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Angela. You ready, Liadan?”

My sister is the only person in my family who knows my name. She knows me, really, since Angela was always her best friend. She is my only real friend. Well, the only friend Liadan has. The two girls just smile at me, and then Angela makes a move to leave, “Well, I’ll see you later then, Liadan, Kate.”

“Hell no,” I say, “if I’m doing this, then you’re coming with me, Angela. I’m sure we can get you an invite to the wedding.”

“An excellent idea if I do say so myself,” Kate replies.

“But I don’t have a thing to wear.”

“Good thing we’re going to a dress shop, then, isn’t it?” I ask with a smirk.

“Dad said he’d meet us at the house where you can drink the potion and change clothing.”

“Change?”

Angela smirks at me, “You dad doesn’t want you showing up at a dress shop in drag.”

“But…”

“She means dressed as a guy, Liadan,” Angela supplies.

“Oh,” I say with a smile. Say what you will about my dad, at least he’s consistent.

We pile into my car and I turn on the radio to a girl-rock station. The three of us are soon signing along, even if my baritone seems a little out of place with the grrl-power lyrics.

I’ve always wanted to be able to go out with my sister and Angela as just ‘one of the girls,’ and for the moment it looks like I get my wish. We’ll see what tomorrow holds.

We get to my parent’s home about five am, and I'm rushed inside by my father. When he’s like this I have trouble thinking of him as dad.

“Look, Cray, I figure that this is the best way to cure you of this little obsession of yours.”

“Obsession?”

“With being a girl. You’ll go to the reception, and at the end of it, you’ll realize what it really means to be a woman. It’s not all dress-up and pretty clothes. Women just think differently that we do.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Here.” He pushes one of the standard bulbs of potion at me. It’s a translucent royal blue color. There’s no label on the bottle.

“You sure this is the right one?”

“I took off the label in the store. I didn’t want anyone to see me carrying a bottle of this stuff home.” He was blushing furiously.

“I’ll have Kate get it for me next week then.”

I quaff it down, and giggle a bit. It tickles on the way down. That’s likely the little nannites slipping out through the lining of my throat. Most of them anyway.

Nothing happens, so I go to look through what my mom has gathered for me.

“What do you think, sweetie. I’m sorry it’s pink, but we have limited choices…”

There’s a pink hoodie and a pair of pink sweat pants with a white stripe down each leg. The sweats are too short, and the top is a little tight, but they mostly fit. Mom is blushing when I change. I have no qualms stripping off my boy shorts and slipping into a pair of white panties. They’re grannies, but I don’t really care right now.

“Well, I hope…” I feel strange, and talking becomes a chore. The room spins, so Angela and Kate help me onto the bed. I lie there feeling everything spin for what feels like hours, and then I start to itch. Where I'm itching makes me smile.

It’s all I can do not to scratch my chest in a most unladylike manner. Everything begins to shift under the clothing they provided. The discomfort grows a bit as I wait. It's almost unbearable in the moments before it fades away completely.

I get up and look at myself in the mirror. No, it’s not perfect. I’m still me…but a more feminine looking me. The little stubble I’d grown since last night is gone. The hairs on my arms and legs had fallen out as well and come back in very fine. The hair on my head is another matter. It had only grown about four inches, but it was blonde. I hadn’t been blond since I was in grade school. I smile at that.

“Mom…” I begin, and notice my voice is higher. Not a lot, but enough. It now sounds…furry. That’s all I can really describe it as. It sort of sounds sexy.

“Mom, I think I’ll need to shave before we go out.”

She looks at my face and frowns.

“I don’t see…”

I pull up the leg of my sweats, and she blushes.

“Oh, I completely forgot about that, Cray.”

“Please call me Liadan, Mom. At least for the two days I get to look like this.”

“Use my bathroom while I distract your father. And I should have a bra that will fit you well enough until we can get you one of your own. You’re sort of poking out.”

I look down and blush. My nipples are clearly visible through the fleece fabric of the hoodie.

“I don’t think any of us thought it would work so well,” Mom says.

“I knew it would,” Kate replies.

Angela just laughs as she leads me off to the bathroom.

“What are you..?” I begin to ask.

“Checking out the new bod,” she says.

“But…”

“We’re both girls now. And I’ve seen you naked.”

I strip down and am disappointed to find I still have a penis. There had to be a catch somewhere, I think. Angela is looking at the thing critically.

“I think it’s a little smaller,” she says.

“What?” I say and look into the mirror wall next to the tub. I’ve looked at myself often enough to know what I look like down there. I have often wanted for it to just shrink away and disappear. It's definitely smaller, and a small rush floods me. I smile at Angela and hug her.

“Watch where you throw those things,” she says rubbing her nose.

I giggle and blush at the same time. Apparently I gave her a face full of boob without even thinking about it.

It’s embarrassing, even if we do, mostly, look like girls. Well, Angela looks completely like a girl. I just mostly look like a girl now. I can’t help smiling as I think about it. Angela gives me pointers on how best to shave my legs. I get a couple of nicks and cuts, but when I’m done I have smooth legs.

Angela helps me moisturize, and when I’m done my legs are so smooth. I’m about to get dressed when my mom comes in.

“Good, you didn’t wash your hair.”

“Mom!” I say, trying to cover up.

“I changed your diaper, girl. You have nothing I haven’t seen before.”

I blush and she and Angela just laugh.

“I see you didn’t wash your hair. Good. Angela, you want to use this, or do you want me to do it?”

“What’s going on?” I ask.

Angela begins to smile, and I’m even more mystified. Mom has a plastic tube in her hands.

“I’ll do it,” Angela says.

Mom hands Angela a pair of nano-control gloves which she puts on. “Sit, Liadan.”

I do, still mystified. She spreads the goop from the vial on my hair and I begin to realize what exactly is going on. With these limited-use nano-machines you can get a professional dye job at home.

We leave them in for almost thirty minutes and then Angela carefully brushes them back into the vial. As soon as my hair is free, I step into the shower and use the ‘Clean to make any remaining nano-machines inert.

When I’m done, I finally do what I’ve been avoiding since they first put in the dye. I look at myself in the mirror again.

I’m still overweight, but my weight has definitely shifted into more feminine areas. My hair is now blonde and fits well with my naturally light blue eyes. “My butt is huge,” I say in wonder.

My mom and Angela laugh. After smiling happily again at them, I get dressed again. The Bra is a little uncomfortable. Everything else fits a little differently. I realize for the first time how much energy must have been burned to make the change. The hoodie isn’t as tight. I’d think that it would have been tighter, as more was moved up top, but it’s almost, but not quite, loose. Definitely looser. That makes my smile electric. I’ve lost weight.

I’ve been afraid to try any of the weight-loss options on the market because I’m afraid it will make my bad eating habits worse.

Even so, I love that I’ve lost some weight, and I step onto the scale to verify. My smile splits my face. I’ve lost twenty pounds in two hours. Sure, I’m still three-hundred pounds, but it’s less than I weighed before.

We head out of the room and pile into the car. Kate and my mom will have final fittings today, as will my female cousins. I’ll be getting a first fitting. If it weren’t for the money that my family had put into Sandy’s Boutique over the years, I doubt that Sandy would be willing to do this for us.

First we head to the mall. The styles and sizes are almost confusing. We measure me, and then begin to try out any of the bras that fit. 48DD. Yes, I’m huge. But the bra is beautiful, and I begin to feel beautiful when I put it on.

We’re about to leave when Angela pulls me off to another part of the store. There are panties here. She hands me a pair in pink with a little lace that match the bra. Now I really do feel beautiful. The panties cup my ample bottom.

We head back out to the car after paying, and I wear my new underwear out. The sun seems to be shining a bit brighter now, or maybe it is just that I am really looking around at my world.

While we drive, Kate and Angela play with my hair and I just luxuriate in it. They’re doing some type of plaited pile on top of my head and I wonder what it will look like when it’s done. I don’t have an opportunity to check as they’re still finishing up as we get out of the car and head into the shop.

“Ladies, welcome, welcome I have your dresses over here. And who is this amazon?”

“Sandy, you goof. It’s me,” I say to the man. I haven’t been into Sandy’s for a few years. It wasn’t even his when I went in last time. He was still working for someone else. Last time I was in here was to help Kate get fitted for her own wedding dress. She has a ten-year-old son now.

“Cray..?”

“Liadan if you please,” Angela says.

“Well, might I say that everything fits now,” Sandy says with a smile. “When you came in the first time I was wondering a bit why you weren’t getting fitted for a dress. It might have taken seventeen years, but here you are.”

I blush furiously, and mom does as well. Apparently I don’t keep it as secret as I’d hoped.

“So, I assume that we’ve got to make one of those peach monstrosities for you?” he asks.

“Peach..?”

“I just have to show you,” he says. He hands a couple of dress bags to my mother and sister, and they go into the back to get changed.

“And who is this young lady?” he asks turning to Angela. She blushes herself at the compliment as I’m sure that she doesn’t think that thirty-three is young.

“This is Angela, my neighbor.”

“Oh, are you two…” Sandy begins and both of us shake our heads.

“No, I’m into guys,” Angela blurts out.

Sandy gets a thoughtful look on his face, and then smiles at Angela. Angela shyly smiles back.

“Sandy, just ask her out.”

The both gawp at me. “Angela is currently single. Her boyfriend dumped her a couple of months ago,” I turn and address Angela, “Sandy isn’t gay, even though most girls assume so.”

They both laugh a bit at my statement, but any further banter is halted by the return of Kate and our mom.

Sandy’s right. These dresses are…silly. They have yards of cloth, and are gauzy and airy. They’re made for a much smaller woman than either my mom or sister. Almost as if they were designed for pixies or something. I’m so not looking forward to seeing myself in one of them.

Sandy checks the fit and then turns to me. He directs me to strip down to my underwear, and I do. I feel really self conscious about it, but he’s nice, and professional. I suddenly get why people think he’s gay. I’ve never known a guy who was so able to control is actions, and knowing him like I do, it’s even more impressive.

He was one of my best friends in high school. I blush thinking of some of the fantasies I’d had about him in the past. I quickly smash down those thoughts because I’m hooking Angela up with him. And I’m not really a girl.

He gets my measurements and then measures Angela while I'm getting dressed. He's just as professional with her as he was with me. When he finishes, and she dresses again, we head out. I assume we’re heading home, but we find ourselves at a store I’d never seen before: Dahle’s.

I walk inside with my mother, and realize where I am and almost panic.

“Mom, I shouldn’t…”

“Liadan. Every woman needs more than one dress. And even if you only end up being a woman for a couple of days, you need this. I know your dad thinks this is temporary, but I’ve seen something today that tells me that we need to make this work, and likely on a more permanent basis. You never smile anymore...except you've been smiling a lot today.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m almost in tears as my mom, sister and girlfriend lead me into the racks. It doesn’t take me long to lose my self-consciousness in the fabrics and styles of the store. Everything there is designed with the ‘larger’ woman in mind. Mom is a little big, but I never considered the difficulty that she’d have purchasing clothing from a more mainstream store.

We end up finding a light dress that flatters my form. It has a sheath underneath a light gauzy surface. The material of the over dress seems to peek at my full-bodied form that the dress underneath hugs.

I feel extremely sexy in it.

We purchase the dress and I wear it out of the store. We head over to another store.

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“Well, Liadan, we can’t really go for a girl’s night out with your hair like that, can we? We need to get it styled a bit, and after that, we can have some fun,” my mom says with a sparkle in her eyes.

I look up at the sign above the door that reads Locks Nessie as we go inside. “Hello, Hannah,” the woman there greets my mother.

“Hello, Nessie,” my mom says with a smile, “We need to get Liadan here the works.”

“Let her hair down so we can get a look at it.”

They pull out the pins and allow it to fall free. She walks around me a little bit and she sniffs a couple of times to herself.

“I’m going to have to take off about ten inches. She has split ends all through it. The dye job is adequate, if a little amateur. Hiding gray I assume? Makeup, necessary. Nails…well, they are short. Extensions?” my mother nods, “okay then. Pedi too I imagine.”

She bustles me off to a chair and went to work. Even with her out at the ends of my hair, I feel so relaxed there listening to her cut and trim. I’m in a real hair salon, and she’s really styling my hair. I must have fallen asleep I was so relaxed as I’m startled awake by a sharp pain in my ear.

“Ow.”

“One more and we’re done. Your mother picked out a couple of heart shaped studs for you to wear.”

Another quick jab, and I can feel the rapidly warming metal sitting in my ears. The feeling quickly fades to the background as she turns me to face the mirror. I’m not gorgeous. I don’t think I’m even pretty. I’m definitely a woman, though. I smile at Nessie through my tears and hug her. My hair weighs so much less than it did, but I don’t mind. It's a feminine hairstyle, and it still goes half the way down my back.

We go out to eat and check out the guys in the restaurant. I’m a little shocked at first with my mother and sister, as they’re happily married women, until my mother explains it to me.

“Just because we’re married, doesn’t mean we can’t look, and besides, we’re mostly looking for you and Angela. A girl can’t ever get enough help finding the right guy.”

I relax into it, and realize that we spend at least as much time talking about what the guys seem to be like as how they look.

All too soon the night is over and I head home with Angela and we part ways. I hang the dress in the closet, put my earrings on the nightstand and slip out of my panties and bra. As gravity again pulls on my breasts, I feel sorry about losing them. I carefully clean my new underwear in the sink and hang them up to dry.

When I wake up, I’ll be Cray again, but for at least a few moments more I’m Liadan, and I cry with the weight of the loss. Today has been the best day of my life, and the only thing that keeps me moving forward is the thought that I’ll get to do it again next Saturday.

Before I fall asleep I turn off my 'minder.

I turn on my ‘minder before I’m even aware of my surroundings. It’s habit after all. Something feels off, but I can’t quite place it. My sleep addled mind finally realizes that the weight on my chest isn’t depression this morning. I still have breasts.

I know it’s still only temporary, but I smile up at the ceiling and slowly open my eyes. My breasts. The thought in and of itself is glorious to me. It would only be better if I could be thinking about another piece of anatomy that was denied to me.

I don’t let it get me down. I get up and smooth out my sheets and then check the time. I still have a couple of hours before my appointment, so I figure it’s more than time to get some ‘girl time’ in. I initiate the dry-wash on my bed and head into the bathroom to get my first bubble bath in years. It’s just a cap-full of my unscented body-wash, but it does sud up nicely. The slick feel of the water and bubbles on my new bits is so wonderful. Not is a sexual way, but in a self-validation way. I hope that I still look like this for my entire session today.

This is tougher than I ever thought it would be. I hope my parents know the problem that they’ve stirred up with this. This partial preview that I’ve gotten does not make me want to be myself any less. It only makes me want to be myself more.

The ache I feel at the loss is even more intense than the night before and I cry again.

I get up and dry myself off and realize something. I only have the one thing to wear. It makes me smile. I really like the dress, and it looks good on the current me. My bra and panties are dry, so I slip them on. It’s like coming home. I put on the dress and try to slip the earrings back in…but there are no holes.

I look at myself in the mirror, trying to find the half closed ones that are where they were…but my lobes are perfectly smooth. It’s as if I never got them pierced. I consider for a moment self-piercing with these studs, but I relent.

I have no makeup to put on, but I do have a hair clip that Angela gave me a couple of months ago. I gather up the top portion of my hair into a pony tail, leaving the bulk of it free beneath. Then I go about the task of gathering clothing up for after I change back.

I pack it into a small bag that almost looks like a purse. I smile at the thought. So many things make me happy today that I don’t know what to do with the emotion. I grab my keys, and throw my wallet into my almost-purse and head out the door.

I run my hand over the roof of my car and look at my nails. The extensions were covered in a light iridescent color. I check the time and realize I would be thirty minutes early to my appointment. I drive to the mall and head to the makeup counter in JC Penneys.

“May I help you, Ma’am?”

I smile brightly at the young woman behind the counter. “You don’t by any chance still have electric blue nail polish, do you? I used to get it when I was a teenager, and had a nostalgic longing for it today.”

“Let me check.” She taps into her store inventory link and stares off into space for a moment. She’s back with me before I even have the time to get impatient.

“Yes, we do, and I don’t even have to go into the back to get it.”

I wonder sometimes if all of this ready access to information hasn’t made us all a bit lazy. It seems to me that even ten years ago, people took the time to get to know what inventory that they actually had in a store. I pay the woman and take the small bottle out to the car with me. It goes into my purse as well.

I smile at the thought. I’ve been a woman for a little over twenty-four hours and already my purse is gathering all sorts of odds and ends.

I drive to the clinic and sit down in the waiting room. The bottle is in my hands and open almost as soon as my derriere collides with the seat. I apply the polish to my talons, and survey the results as they dry. The blue doesn’t, quite, match my outfit, but I don’t really care at the moment. It will clash less with my grey t-shirt and jeans when I go back to being Cray.

“Cray Allenwood?”

I stand up and walk back with the nurse. She takes my weight, blood pressure, and temperature and then leads me to the Doctor’s office. As I wait, I wonder if maybe it isn’t time to find someone in a private practice.

“Look at you!” Dr. Waters says as she walks in through the door.

“Good morning, Dr. Waters.”

She smiles at me. I think my grin is infectious.

“What’s all this, then?”

“My parents got me a Femin-U potion yesterday.”

“I’ve not heard of that. New nano-tech?”

“Apparently. They heard about it on Thursday night, or yesterday morning.”

“And they’re okay with this?”

“It’s supposed to be temporary.”

“Ah, hence the rather large purse you have with you.”

“I like the size of my purse.”

“With anyone else, I’d question it, but you are such a large woman that it seems to fit.”

I blush at the statement. She called me a woman.

“Before we get started, I’d like to download the data from your ‘minder so that I can go over it over the next couple of days.”

While she hooked in and began the process, I remembered once again why I’d had one of these implanted in the first place.

Simple devices, actually, these Data Recorders, Trackers, and Reminders. They're used almost exclusively by the department of corrections. Some high end professionals have simplified versions of them installed, without the GPS feature, because they can be very useful.

Mine was installed when I jumped in front of a bus a couple of years ago.

The driver’s reaction time was better than I’d hoped it would be. I’d been charged with public endangerment and been put on indefinite probation.

The minder captures surface thoughts and translates them into text in a small storage cell. It can hold about a week’s worth of information. It can also remind me of appointments. Like my weekly therapy session with Dr. Waters. If I’d know that it would give me a perfect reckoning of the time, I would have gotten one implanted long before I was required to.

“So, Cray, how do you feel?”

“I could just say ‘great’ but I know that’s not what you’re looking for. I feel like myself, I mean really myself. I see the world and it just feels more vibrant to me. It’s like…for the first time since I really noticed that there was something wrong with my body…it’s like there is color in the world again.

“You know, when there is a long cloudy day? And you are outside, and everything gets so washed out, but it is cloudy for so long that you get used to how washed out everything is? Well, you are thinking, this is normal. This is how everything is supposed to be. And then, for a moment, the sun pierces the clouds and the world comes alive again?

“That’s what it feels like right now. I realize how far away from normal my life really is. I live in this gray world and for the first time ever the sun came out and everything is alive.”

“Cray…”

“Liadan, please.”

“Liadan?”

“Angela gave me the name. She thinks it fits. I like the sound of it.”

“Liadan, then. I’ve said it before, but I have to say it again. You need to transition. You will end up killing yourself otherwise.”

“You can’t know that…”

“I see you sitting here before me, for the first time a truly content person, and I do know that. You’re not going to be able to go back, Liadan.”

“I will, I’ll just…” I stop and I think about it and I realize that she’s right. I can’t go back to being Cray, not really. For the first time in my life, I’d actually allowed myself to be the woman I felt inside. I’d taken a bubble bath this morning and just soaked. I’d painted my nails!

I'd become a vibrant blue, like the polish on my nails and I was going to just go back to being gray?

“Liadan, I think that I need to meet with you more than once a week for a while.”

“But…”

“No buts. I know you can afford it. And even if you couldn’t, I’d afford it.” She hands me a business card. “Come by my office on Tuesday.”

“You don’t work here?”

“Heavens no. I volunteer here once a week,” she said with a smile.

I don’t know what to say. I’d made assumptions, but I'm wrong on two counts. The second was that Dr. Waters really did care about my well-being. That one gets to me and I begin to cry a bit.

I feel the almost pressure of the change come onto me, and I struggle to breathe. It’s easier than yesterday, though, and I’m not completely flattened by it. My beautiful breasts are absorbed back into me, and my fat moves around again. I actually watch as the hair on my arm shifts back into the thicker, darker, male variant.

Dr. Waters is looking at me in shock. “You said an over the counter potion did this?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Get changed. I think you’ve lost a little more weight.”

I change into my Cray clothing. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. The nails remind me of who I really am, and every time I see them, I smile. We go and get me weighed, and I’m down another ten pounds.

Apparently it’s easier to change from a girl into a guy.

“This is reckless. How could anyone put a product on the market that causes you to lose thirty pounds in twenty-four hours?”

“Twenty-nine and change actually, Dr. Waters.”

She looks at me with a question and I just tap the side of my head.

She smiles, “Of course. You have a record of the time always with you. I doubt this could happen to a better person. I’ve got a record of the change already.”

“Doctor?”

“Your ‘minder tracks hormone levels, well, all of your blood chemistry actually. They do it with any ‘medical’ condition. Helps psychiatrists track whether or not their patients have been taking their meds.” There seems to be a little disgust in her voice as she says this.

“Ah.” I say, when what I’m really thinking is that I’ll be glad when I can get this thing removed. The downside to nano-tech, in my opinion, is that the realm of what is possible is entirely too great sometimes. Just because you can do something, doesn’t always mean you should.

We head back into the office, and I sit down again. I stare at my nails for a moment or two to center myself.

“So, you got your nails done yesterday. I’m surprised you didn’t get your ears pierced.”

“I did, actually. They healed overnight.”

“Not unheard of, but a little strange. Liadan, as I was saying before. You need to stop this. You need to let yourself be…yourself.”

“I’m Cray…”

“No, you’re not. You’re always Liadan. You’ve been Liadan for as long as I’ve known you. Haven’t you ever wondered why you’re probation keeps getting extended?”

“A little.”

“Because you’re still a threat to yourself and others.”

I look at her, my mouth open. I’d never thought that it could be her fault that I still had to come here. Not that she’d admitted to anything, but the implication was there. I don’t usually cry, but I begin to cry again. It isn’t that I'm sad, or anything, I just feel…loved. Dr. Waters loves me. Not in any sort of sexual way, and I'm really not into women in that way, but in a way that left me feeling comforted even sitting across the room from her.

I cry silent tears that leave me feeling washed clean.

A smile lights my face when I'm done. “So, you’re going to keep me on probation until I transition?” I ask with a smirk.

“Of course not. Just until I’m convinced that you’re not going to kill yourself. Do your parents even know that you did this?”

I blushed and looked at the floor. This was one of the little things that I’d kept to myself. Good little boys and girls don’t want to change gender. Good little boys and girls don’t feel this depressed. And, most especially, good little boys and girls don’t try to commit suicide.

They knew that I was in counseling, but they thought it was to become a good little boy.

Well, two out of three aren’t bad.

The familiar panic grips me as I begin to consider the very real possibility of losing my family if I chose to go forward with what I needed to be myself. My chest tightens, and the fear takes me, and soon after the depression, and I lose that smile that had been with me since yesterday morning.

“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. I forget sometimes that it would be almost as hard on you to transition as to stay the same.”

I cry a few bitter tears, again with the crying, and just sit there miserable for a few moments.

“I want you to seriously consider having a talk with your parents this next weekend. This can’t go on. They need to come around, and fast, or you’re not going to be around much longer. Tell them everything that happened. I think they’ll understand.”

I’m not convinced by her words, but I try to put on a smile for her sake. It doesn’t look like she’s convinced. We schedule an appointment for Tuesday and I leave the office.

The weight of once again being Cray sinks into me as I go out to my car. Everything passes in a blur as I drive. I have no clue where I’m going to, and sort of slip into autopilot. My surroundings only really register on me as I’m sitting there looking down at my dresser and the two golden hearts that are calling to me.

Physical pain is nothing to the ache in my heart, and I simply push the posts through my now healed lobes. I then strip off all of my Cray clothing and slip into the dress. It doesn’t fit right anymore. I actually consider ripping it off, but I carefully remove it and put it into my closet.

I again hand wash my only pair of underwear and lie down on my bed. The texture of the ceiling changes as the light does. It is such a slow process, but it is a process. The light slowly fades and still I lie there, naked on my bed. I have no desire to be. I’ll just lie here until I die. I can do that. No one will notice I am gone for a few days.

The depth of my depression masks the quiet sounds of someone else in my house. I feel arms around me and I just cry. Angela says nothing to me, and I fall asleep in her embrace. If any woman could get me there, I think it is Angela.

Too bad she’s not a lesbian.

I awake alone, and again just stare at the ceiling. I wonder if the ‘minder can record dreams. Usually it is off while I sleep, but the thought makes you wonder.

The plan, for as far as I am planning right now, is to lie here forever. Maybe Angela will miss me, but I can’t go on.

My stomach betrays me as the smell of bacon wafts through the air. I head out to my kitchen to find her cooking for what seems to be an army, but is probably just two people. I sit down at the table, but she pushes me out of the room.

“You’re mother is coming, so get dressed.”

I get the only thing I know fits me, my kimono. It is so feminine, and I feel like myself when I wear it.

If I survive the week, I simply can’t be Cray anymore.

I never really want to admit it, but Dr. Waters does understand the situation more than I sometimes give her credit for.

I’m sitting there staring at the table when there’s a knock at the front door. Angela goes to answer it and my mom comes in and has a seat.

“Why haven’t you removed the nails yet?” she asks me.

“Mrs. Allenwood? I think there’s something…”

“Are you two sleeping together? Are you pregnant Angela?”

“Mom, I’m straight, okay? I wouldn’t sleep with Angela…well, I wouldn't have sex with her,” I amend as I think about two nights recently.

“You’re…wait…”

“Liadan is a woman, Mrs. Allenwood.”

“You’re old enough to call me Miranda I think, Angela. Mrs. Allenwood just sounds so…”

“Stodgy?” Angela supplies.

“Not what I would have gone for, but it’ll do.”

She appraises me for a few moments in silence. I begin to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny. “This is all so sudden…” mom begins, but I cut her off.

“No, mom. It’s not. I’m under mental health probation and have been for almost two years.”

“What? Only crazy people…”

“I am crazy, mom, or at least a danger to myself. I stepped in front of a bus and almost got myself killed.”

“You need to pay more attention…”

“You don’t understand, mom. I did it intentionally.” There is no emotion in my voice as I say this. I’m neither angry nor sad nor happy nor whatever. Dr. Waters has called it ‘without affect’ in the past. The stress is on the A not the E.

I think it’s that complete lack of emotion that really gets to her. It’s like I’m some sort of machine just repeating words that have been fed to me.

“I’m sorry, I need to think about this, Liadan. I need to wrap my head around this mess. When your sister suggested that we let you be a girl for the wedding, I never knew…but she did, didn’t she.”

“Liadan is one of my best friends, Miranda, and Kate is my best friend. Kate and I talk almost as much as Liadan and I do.”

“And you’re sure…” my mom begins, but at the look of shock on both of our faces she stops.

“So, you’re gay like Jeff said?” my mom begins again looking at me.

“No, mom. I like guys.”

She begins to open her mouth and then stops. A look of comprehension dawns on her, and she begins to smile.

“Of course you like guys. You’re straight. And straight women are interested in men.”

I smile at her, but it’s a sort of sad smile.

“Straight guys aren’t interested, though.”

“They will be, honey. You were beautiful on Friday, and this coming Saturday you’ll be beautiful again. We’ll figure this out.”

“What about dad?”

“We’ll figure this out. You always did borrow too much trouble for your own good. Either he accepts you and he’ll be a part of your life, or he doesn’t and he won’t. That's his loss, not yours.”

“But he’s your husband…”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t disagree. Now, I don’t agree with divorce in most situations, and I have no plans right now to divorce your father, but I want you to know that if it’s necessary for your safety, then it will happen.”

“But mom…”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, young lady. It’s not proper to argue with your mother.” She says this in a sort of proper snooty way that reminds me of her mother, my grandmother. Not that my grandmother was snooty, she just loved to ‘put on airs’ for the humor of it.

It seems that I am from a long line of strong women, who I’ve been letting down with my behavior. I adjust the kimono and sit up straight.

“There you go, much more ladylike. Your grandmother would be proud.”

“Would she really?”

“I think so. She told me many years ago that you weren’t like other boys. She never used words like transgender or anything like that, but I think she understood.”

My grandmother had been the first one to tell me that I should let my hair grow long. She’d also been the first one to sit with me and brush it out for hours. I’d talk to her as she brushed it, and I just felt so content. When she’d died I felt so lost.

The same thought occurred to my mother.

“Two years…that was shortly after my mother died, wasn’t it?”

I nod, and shed a couple of tears. Mom moves the seat around the table and sits next to me with her arms around me.

“I don’t know why I’m so emotional this weekend. Every little thing seems to be setting me off.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little hormonal,” Angela says and the two of us look at her, shocked.

No, it can’t be. I can’t be hormonal, can I? A little smile plays across my lips.

“We need to get you into a hospital to get you checked out, young lady.”

“I’m not all that young, mom, and I have a hospital in my head,” I say as I tap the induction plate behind my ear. Well not exactly tap it. It’s under the skin, grafted to my skull, like they all are, but you know what I mean.

“You were chipped?”

“As part of the whole probation thing, mom. Yes.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s actually kinda cool. I always know exactly what time it is, I never forget anything I really need to remember, and I have a calendar of events with me always.”

“I’d wondered why you suddenly became a bit more thoughtful and called my on my birthday the last couple of years.”

“I’ve been considering getting it upgraded to include a phone.”

Mom looks at me a little shocked before I crack a smile to let her know I’m joking.

I’m much calmer after mom leaves, and spend time watching old movies with Angela and crying my eyes out. I’ve seen them before, but for some reason they just hit me harder right now. Angela spends the night holding me again, and I feel the love.

Monday is work. I leave the earrings in because I am tired of playing a role, and as ome of the owners of the company there’s not much my boss is going to say about it.

I stick the connection pad to the side of my head and interface with my computer. We’re in the middle of a new project, so I spend some time zipping from one update summary to another. No, I’m not actually in the machine, but the ability to type at the speed of thought is quite handy. That and the fact that I just have to think about opening a file or folder and it does.

I don’t play the games we make anymore because they’re too easy. Even with the whole sight/sound interface that most gaming systems use, they still have a controller of some-sort.

With my ‘minder I am the controller. When my employees found out they sort of banned me from the weekly office death match tournament.

Not that I mind, much. We’re working on a game right now that caters to the chipped. It’s a lot more difficult to program than we thought it would be, but that’s fine. My company has more money than even I do.

After checking on the progress that’s occurred over the weekend, I sit back for a moment and think about things. My life is perfect, or as close to it as some people would ever wish for. I’m well off. I have a loving family. I have more money than I could comfortably spend.

Even with all of this success, I feel empty, and know that without that one not so little thing my life is meaningless.

I call my partner into my office through the company chat system.

“Hey, Cray, What’s up? Love the nails and earrings by the way,” Steve says as he enters the room.

“Um…”

“Oh, sorry, let me change this a bit. Wow, Cray, what’s up with the long nails with that very flattering shade of blue on them. Are you wearing earrings? What’s going on?” The stilted, almost melodramatic, manner he delivers these lines in has me laughing. He smiles at me in a way that makes me blush.

“Steve…”

“I know, you’re a woman, and about damn time you started showing it.”

“What..?” I begin.

“Yes, I know you’re a woman. When I first started realizing that I was attracted to you, I thought I might be bi-sexual.”

“You’re…”

“Let me finish, woman,” he says with this smile that takes the sting out of it. “It was only after I realized that you were the only ‘man’ that I was attracted to that I started really paying attention to you. You may look like a guy…most of the time…but you’ve never really acted like one.”

My heart skips a beat as he looks at me in that way again, and my breath catches in my throat.

“Now, just to let you know, I find you attractive, but I’m not sure it will work out between us.”

“Because I’m a guy…”

“Because you’re my business partner. Seriously, Cray…”

“Liadan. If you’re going to refer to me as a woman, then you might as well address me as such.”

“Ok, Liadan.” He says, and again my heart skips. The smile on his face just melts me. I'm so lost in the shape of his lips that I can hardly miss when he starts talking again, “it just won’t work. This whole thing only works because we respect each other enough to disagree with each other when it really counts. You keep me moving in the right direction, and I do the same for you. If we ever had a relationship…”

“It would end up about the same way and you know it. What you’re afraid of is if this whole thing falls apart. Admit it. I mean, having my ex, here, working with me could get very awkward, and what would the employees think if their bosses were sleeping together…”

He blushes bright red, obviously embarrassed by my open manner of speaking.

“Look, Steve, we’re not dating. Not saying we can’t if a big lump would be the gentleman and just ask me out damnit, but we’re not currently dating. I know it would make things…complicated here at work, and I’d prefer not to date you looking like a guy, but we could make it work, if you wanted to.”

I’d been steeped enough in the culture to know how guys react to social situations, and while there are some guys who don’t mind the girl taking charge, Steve isn’t one of them. For a moment I think I might have been a little too forceful about it, but then Steve gets a smile on his face.

He starts walking toward me, and I panic and try to back up a little.

“What are you doing?”

“Something that I’ve thought about for a very long time now.”

I freeze as I watch him moving toward me. I want to tell him to stop, or part of me does, but part of me is cheering him on, and feeling, suddenly, very feminine.

My heart races as he draws closer, and then his lips touch mine and the world goes away for a little while. I can feel his stubble against my smooth face, and the press of his lips against mine. I so want to continue, but I need to stop and I turn my head.

“Steve!”

“I really like you, Liadan. And I’d like to date you. Hell, it almost feels like we’ve been basically dating for five years now, what with all the time the two of us spend here alone.”

“I never knew you felt that way.”

“Which is part of the reason I never pushed it. That and half the time I thought I was imagining things, and I was so afraid that if I brought it up you’d reject me.”

“But why me?”

“Because even when you look like a guy, you’re sexy as hell to me.”

I blush. I can’t help it. These damned, I assume, hormones are really playing havoc with my mind.

“So, did you just want to kiss me, or was there another reason why you called me in here?”

He’s still leaning over me, and somehow it makes me feel small and vulnerable, but in a good way. I’m nine inches taller than him, but sitting like this, with him leaning over me, I feel encompassed by his maleness and it takes me a moment to focus my thoughts.

“No, I called you in to tell you that I’d be starting to transition and that I would be presenting myself as female, if maybe slowly at first.” He starts to back up and I quickly lean forward and kiss him before he gets out of range.

“But the kiss was a welcome surprise,” I say when we come up for air. I’d meant for it to be a light peck, but he had other ideas and wrapped his arms around me.

“Well, I’ve been informed. So, we staying in tonight to work some more on the project?”

“Sure,” I say with a smile. For once, I realize what he’s saying when he plans a dinner for the two of us over lines of code and graphical assets.

“We really have been dating pretty regularly for the past few years, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, we have. I’ve tried getting in other relationships, but I keep comparing the girl to you. And no one compares to you.”

He says this last as he’s leaving the room. It hits me hard and I just sigh. I sit there staring off into space gently rubbing a finger over my lips for a few minutes before shaking myself and grabbing my phone.

“Hello? Dr. Carrin Waters speaking.”

“Doctor? It’s Liadan. I think there might be something wrong with my hormones.”

“Oh, Liadan. I was going to call you. Yes, there is something seriously off about your blood work. I need you to come to my office so we can discuss it.”

I sit there shocked for a moment or two. The silence is deafening.

“What’s wrong with my blood work?”

“It’s better if we discuss this in my office. I’m free in about an hour.”

“I’ll be right over, doctor.”

I tell Steve I’m going to be stepping out for a couple of hours, but don’t tell him why. A girl has to keep a few secrets. It’s all part of the feminine mystique…supposedly.

Again I slip behind the wheel of my Neon and I drive away from the building where I spend a great deal of my life. If it weren’t for game design I think I would have gone mad long ago. I chuckle a little at myself as I look at my fingernails. I’m not entirely sure that I didn’t go mad already.

I catch glimpses of myself in the rearview mirror, and for the first time, my reflection screams female at me. It isn’t just the earrings. The lack of makeup should be enough to say guy, but it doesn’t. I look at my eyebrows, and wonder if they were shaped a bit while I was getting my hair and makeup done a couple of days ago, and then it hits me.

My hair is in a much more feminine style. Sure, my face may still have some harder lines to it that people normally associate with masculinity, but the fat deposits are softening it some…

I pull my eyes from the mirror and slam on the brakes. The car in front of me is stopped at an intersection, and my bumper appears to be only inches from his. I wonder for a moment if maybe it would be possible to link a ‘minder into an automatic navigation system, letting me pilot a car without needing to look at the road, and then laugh at myself.

There is a reason that I got into software design. I really love technology, even if certain parts of it scare the hell out of me.

I’d never have gotten a ‘minder if it hadn’t been forced on me. I’d read too much sci-fi as a kid, and a lot of it talks about the problems of such intimate technology.
My mom had talked about getting it removed, but I knew that wasn’t really an option. Sure, you could remove the core computer and GPS, but the Nano-filaments that connect into most portions of your brain were permanent.

I smile to myself as we get underway again. I’m a cyborg, although people really don’t use the term properly: CYBernetic-ORGanic hybrid. That’s what the term actually means, but so many people have lost it through the misuse of all of the Terminator-esque movies.

“Come with me if you want to live,” I say in a horrible Schwarzenegger impression. I smile at myself in the mirror, not seeing the resemblance at all. It’s still a little funny, at least to me.

Dr. Waters’ office looks like a home, and looking around at the neighborhood I’m in I realize it is a home. She’s pretty brave, in my opinion, welcoming the insane into her home on a regular basis.

I walk in, let the receptionist know who I am, and have a seat. I look at my nails, smiling at the blue that they still are, and wait to be let in. I’m a couple of minutes early, and so I wait a couple of minutes before I’m called.

“Liadan, I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.”

“What’s wrong, doctor?” I say, starting to get worried. Her expression strikes me as one that you put on to tell someone they have a terminal case of dead.

“You have a Virus,” she says.

“Oh, is that all…” I say relieved, but she doesn’t look happy.

“No, not a virus. A Virus with a capital ‘V’.” At my confused look she continues. “There are two primary types of nanotech. The first is mechanical. It’s what most everyone uses, because it is much easier to…kill I guess is the right term for it. Electromagnetic pulses are enough, and render them inert. ‘Clean is actually Nano-cells designed to emit timed pulses after they come in contact with water. Everyone knows how to use it; short range, clean and simple.

“The second type is a custom engineered virus. Virus nanotech is supposed to be reserved for medicinal use only. It treats cancer especially well. I’ve personally administered it to a couple of patients with brain tumors in the past. The problem is that there’s no easy way to eliminate it.

“In checking your blood work, I noticed some strange T Cells. They didn’t match any antigen profile I’d seen before. I assumed that you’d taken a Virus.”

“But…”

“I already contacted the company. They were unaware that any of the Virus version of the potion had made it onto the market.”

“What do you mean?”

“The potion you took is supposed to be a permanent solution. There are problems with it, though. In testing it never reacted the same way with all subjects.”

“If it’s supposed to be permanent…” I begin, but she interrupts me.

“Your body is fighting off the changes the virus wants to make. Your immune response changed you back into a guy. Unfortunately, the Virus seems to be multiplying to overcome your immune response.”

“How is that a problem, I don’t want to be a guy…” I begin to say before I start to feel weak.

“Liadan?”

Her voice sounds so far away. The room is spinning, and I feel nauseous all of the sudden. I try to move to the wastebasket, but I don’t make it. I vomit all over her rug, and notice there’s blood in it.

She’s trying to say something to me, but I can’t understand her. My throat feels raw, and I sit down on the ground, hard. The pain I felt on Friday was a gentle tickle compared to this. This feels like someone is pulling me apart…only from the inside. Then the burning begins. I want to cry out, but my lungs will not fill with air.

I lie there on the floor, curled tightly around myself, holding my legs to my chest, trying to blot out the world.

Sweat breaks out on my skin, and I am drenched in moments. It smells strange, but I don’t worry about it too much. The pain is overwhelming, and darkness engulfs me finally.

The soft beeping of machines slowly registers in my conscious mind. I’d been having a dream that I can no longer remember. The last piece of it that slowly slips away was about a white dress. I’m confused for a moment, wondering why a white dress would make me feel so happy before I realize something else.

I’m no longer in pain. Other than an increased weight on my chest, I feel lighter…a lot lighter. I try to open my eyes, but my eyelids seem to be the only heavy part of me left.

“Let me get that for you,” a soft voice says. I feel the lights turn off, and hear blinds drawn. Light generates heat. I could feel the sudden minor cooling of the room as the lights went out.

She, at least I assume it is a woman from the voice, removes something from my eyes, and I try to blink them open. They seem to be glued together, though, so she wipes my face. It seems she’s wiped away whatever was stuck in my eyelashes as I can finally open my eyes. Everything is blurry for a moment or two before I’m able to focus.

“How are you feeling?” she asks with a concerned look on her face. I don’t know her, but she’s wearing scrubs, so I assume I’m in a hospital of some sort.

“Parched,” I say, or at least croak. My throat still feels a little raw, but that’s probably because it’s so dry. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I can’t seem to work up any spit.

“Let me get you something, sweetie,” she says. As she walks away I wonder at that. She’s probably twenty-eight or twenty-nine, but the tone almost suggests that she was referring to someone younger than her…either very young boy, or a younger woman. I can’t decide which makes me less nervous.

She puts a glass with a straw in my hand and says, “Let me get Dr. Waters.”

She leaves me there in the semi-darkness and I nurse the liquid of the cup. It tastes like nothing, so I assume it is probably UltraPure. Some people like the lack of taste that truly pure water can provide. Me, I like the mineral taste more.

“Liadan, you gave us quite a scare there.”

“Not my fault,” I begin before something stops me. My voice is different. Not quite the furry tones of before, and it’s higher pitched. It sounds like sex. That’s about the only thing that I can think right then. It’s not just sexy, but one step beyond that. It’s like someone took everything that a woman’s voice should be and distilled it then added a drop of desire and a touch of moonlight.

I can’t help it. I smile.

“I see you’re beginning to realize what happened.”

“I changed again?”

“You could say that. More I’d say you really changed for the first time. I think the initial change was the Virus testing out the waters, so to speak,” she says with a smirk at the unintended pun.

“Why do I feel so weak?” I ask. Lifting the water took a lot out of me.

“You just went through the equivalent of major surgery, a marathon, long term starvation, and female puberty all at the same time.”

“Puberty?”

“Yes, you had your first period while you were asleep…among other things.”

“My…what!” I ask. I never thought to hear that term applied to me. Sure, I dreamed of maybe…but maybe was impossible even with modern science…or so I thought.

I sit there in a daze, and Dr. Waters just waits for me to process it.

My chest begins to itch a little so I put my hand up to scratch it and run into something much earlier than I intended. A smile splits my face as I bring my other hand up and check out my new protuberances.

I have breasts. I don’t know if they’re big, but they are there, and they’re mine.

“Doctor..?”

“Yes, you are most definitely a girl now.”

I squeal. I can’t help it. This is something that I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember, but never really had the courage to hope for.

“Calm down, there are a number of problems that I need to address first, Liadan.”

The tone of her voice sobers me. Something about all of this is striking me as strange, all of the sudden.

“First, you lost a lot of weight.”

“How much?”

“You’re down to one fifty.”

My mouth falls open.

“It seems that your body was using whatever it had to fuel this transformation. The changes that your body underwent were severe. Your bone structure changed, and you seem to be a bit shorter…”

“What?”

“Not much, only an inch or two.”

“How…why…”

“Good questions, both, but not that I have answers for. In the midst of the changes, you became sensitive to light and sound, so we isolated you in this room to make sure you were ok. Your GP is outside; I’ll let him handle the rest. I just wanted to assess your mental state before I handed you off to him.”

Dr. Jensen, my normal doctor, comes in then and pokes and prods me for a while. He also takes the blood work data from my ‘minder. I have to admit that never having to get blood drawn is nice, and might be worth keeping the silly little thing.

“So, Liadan, you seem to be a healthy young woman…sorry, I can’t get over your appearance.”

“What’s wrong with my appearance?”

He wordlessly hands me a mirror and I take a look at myself. I look younger, a lot younger, than I looked before, maybe nineteen or twenty. My face is almost transformed. Yes, it is still me peeking out of my blue eyes, but the bone structure has been softened.

“Wow…”

“You can say that again. Do you feel up to walking so we can measure your height properly?”

I let him help me to get out of bed, and self-consciously hold the back of my gown together. He smiles at me and helps me onto the scale. I stick my butt toward the wall so I can stand up straight with my hands to my sides. I’m still taller than him, and he has to reach up to settle the stick properly. I smile at that. When Dr. Waters mentioned that I was shorter, I’d sort of hoped that meant that I was less than six feet, maybe closer to five ten like my sister.

“Six one.” Dr. Jensen calls out and I have to smirk at myself. Well, unless I really want to tower over Steve, no heels. He’s only five eleven after all.

I find my mind drifting to Steve as we walk back to the room, and only the cool breeze on my backside reminds me that I am half naked.

“You seem well enough, and if I didn’t know what had happened over the past couple of days, I’d assume you were a perfectly healthy young woman.”

“But I’m not healthy, am I?”

“Actually, the Virus seems to have purged itself as soon as it made the modifications. Your immune system was the only thing preventing this from happening on Friday. We’ll want to check things out a bit more to make sure, but as far as we can tell you’re not contagious, and all active traces of your immune response have left your bloodstream.”

“Really?”

He smiles at me. “Yes, really. Now, I think there are some people who are anxious to see you. I’ll leave to begin working on your discharge papers.”

Kate and my mom enter the room and I smile at them. We begin talking about small things, like the fact that I look more like a younger sister than an older brother when I notice someone hiding in the doorway.

“Hello? I didn’t want to interrupt,” I hear a voice say. The tones send shivers up my spine because they are so familiar.

“Get your ass in here, Steve,” I say trying to be my old gruff self. It comes off a little more inviting with my new voice, though, and Steve is blushing when he fully comes into view.

“It’s not ladylike to swear, Liadan,” my mom says. We all laugh at that, and I smile at her.

“I know, mom, but it’s Steve. He wouldn’t have known it was me if I didn’t.”

“I know it’s you no matter what packaging you’re in. I’m in love with you, remember?”

I blush bright red at this statement, and my sister just grins.

“Is there something that you need to tell me?” mom asks.

“Your daughter finally admitted to me that she’s a woman on Monday, so I figured it was a great opportunity to tell her that I knew, and that I was in love with her. She’s kind of slow sometimes. We’ve sorta been dating for a few years now.”

“I’d wondered why no other girls had snatched you up,” Kate responds with a gleeful grin that just doesn’t end. I can’t blame her as my own is just as big.

“I wasn’t going to push it, because I didn’t know if she was interested in guys.”

“What? Really? You never caught me checking any of the new hires out? I mean, didn’t you ever wonder why I liked to do the interviews?”

“Wait, what?”

“You thought it was coincidence that there were so many good looking guys in the office?”

“To tell you the truth I never noticed.”

“Isn’t that against the law? I mean you’re not supposed to hire based on looks.” My sister says.

“Actually, there’s nothing against hiring a good looking work force, as long as you don’t say you’re hiring a good looking work force.

“And mostly it was a matter of hiring a better looking work force. If I have two equally qualified individuals, then I have to have something to differentiate.”

“I’m shocked, truly shocked,” Steve says in a severe tone. “I thought you only had eyes for me.”

“Steve, honey, it’s a girls prerogative to look, just like it is a guys. Just as long as it’s you I fantasize about…um…never mind that,” I say blushing furiously.

Steve can’t keep a straight face and he grins at me. “Well, as long as you fantasize only about me, then it’s okay.”

He leans over and I know he’s going to kiss me, and I ache to have him pressed against me. My mom clears her throat before he can accomplish his task though.

“Liadan, you two need to talk about some things, but let me put something bluntly for your partner in crime here.” She turns to Steve and puts on her mom face. “My daughter is a virgin, whether or not my son was. She is to remain in this state until you two get married. If I find that you’ve despoiled her, then it will be impossible for you two to get married.”

“Why’s that?” Steve says with a slight smile. The fear I feel is surely evident on my face and I shake my head slightly, hoping he will get the hint. Most people talk about dads being protective of their daughters. They’ve never met my mom.

“Because they’ll never find your body.” There is no smile on her face, and even I get chills. I’d heard more than one boy on the receiving end of that talk, and sometimes it amazes me that my sister got married at all.

“Ok, Mrs. Allenwood. Also, I’d like to assure you that Cray was a virgin before the change.”

“Steve!” I exclaim, blushing again.

“Well, unless you lied to me,” he says. His smile takes the potential sting out of the words.

The three of us talk quietly after that, with Steve just holding my hand. I hold onto it with all of my strength, sure that at any moment this fairy-tale will come to an end and I will wake up in my own bed, alone.

We sign the papers, and they let us leave. Mom brought the dress that I loved so much from Dahle’s, but it drapes on me. I’m still a tall woman, but nowhere near as big around. In fact, I almost imagine that Steve could encircle my waist with just his hands. It might not actually be that small, but the imagining is good.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Steve.”

“Go shopping today then. I expect a well dressed woman if I’m going to be introducing her as my fiancée.”

“Steve…” I begin with a frown on my face.

“I can’t live without you, Liadan. At least think about it.”

“That’s not the problem,” I say beginning to laugh and cry at the same time. “You just assumed and you’re asking me in the middle of the hospital parking lot.”

”Oh, um, well, I should have thought that out a little better.”

“You should have bought a ring.”

Something seems to occur to him, and he pulls a small box out of his pocket. Before he can open it I put my hands over his and sadly shake my head.

“I can’t deal with this right now, Steve. I’m grungy, in an ill-fitting dress, my hair is a mess, and we’re standing in a hospital parking lot. When I think back to you actually asking me to marry you, I want to feel pretty and loved, not have it feel forced.”

“You’re always pretty, Liadan.”

I blush at that, but I’m scowling, even though inside my heart is racing and all I want to do is kiss him…and more than just kissing possibly.

“Steve, it’s a bad idea for us to get married.”

“If this is about work…”

“No, this is about the fact that every time we have an argument you’re going to disarm me with one of your wonderful compliments and I’m going to be putty in your hands.”

He begins to smile, but I shake my head. “Steve, I like you, I might even love you, but this is too much for me right now. I need time to think, alone, and you need to ask me out on a real date first.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and I hurry to stop him.

“Not right now. Wait a while first. I need some time. Call me later.”

I walk over to my car when my phone starts ringing. I answer it and Steve’s on the other end of the line.

“So, is it later yet?”

I can’t help it, I giggle.

“No, Steve. It’s not later. How about I call you, or I see you at work tomorrow.”

“You could always come in today. It’s only ten in the morning.”

“I literally have nothing to wear, Steve.”

“Come in nothing then.”

There is something…inviting in his voice and I blush bright red and want to smile at him, but I don’t. He wouldn’t see it anyway, “Go to work, Steve. I expect you to give me a full accounting when I get there tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, princess.”

I laugh and hang up. I drive my little Neon home, after adjusting the seat a bit. I get home and I can’t get out of the car. I sit there and shake, unable to get my new body under control. I realize that I said ‘no’ to Steve because I’m so very afraid. I’m afraid to really love him. I’m afraid to be loved. I’m afraid of the thoughts I’m having even now: that death is a better alternative to life.

I can imagine myself letting it all go. A red bathtub, or a bottle full of pills, it doesn’t matter much to me. I could even see starving myself to death. At least that has the option of being slow enough that I could always stop partway through. Then there’s the bus route.

I stepped out too early last time. This time, I could wait…or just run out onto a freeway.

I want to destroy my body completely. I hate that I am beautiful. I hate even worse that I am actually desirable. No one should be allowed to love me when I hate myself for the feelings that I am having now.

I love the feel of this dress across my breasts. The nipples may be covered in the pretty pink bra that no longer fits with my new measurements, but the tops are still sensitive, more sensitive than my old chest anyway.

I love the feel of the silky underdress as it moves, and I hate that I love it. I love the way my hair frames my new, softer face, and I want to claw out my own eyes so I can’t look at myself anymore.

The tears begin to stream down my face, and I can’t stop. This little scare with the hospital has shown me that people would miss me, and it would be selfish of me to end it all, but I really want to end it all.

“Just let me go back to being Cray!” I scream at the roof of my car. My new voice doesn’t sound good when I scream. As a guy, I could yell, and at least it was allowed. My new voice…not so much. It just goes all strangled and hoarse. It’s a voice meant to entice or respond with subtle disapproval, not castigate.

I hate my new voice. I hate my breasts. I hate my vagina. I hate myself so much right now because deep down I don’t hate any of it. Oh, I want to. I so want to. But deep down, I want to wrap these long legs around Steve and…my breathing becomes a little shallow as I think about what I’d really like to do.

It sickens me how much I need Steve.

“Liadan?”

I ignore the voice. Maybe she’ll go away.

“You’ve been out here for almost three hours. Open the door.”

I shake my head. Go away, I silently scream at Angela. Instead I look at her, and I see her get scared.

“Open the door, Liadan. Please? Open it now?” She’s beginning to cry, and so I cry harder. I can’t let her in. She’s already seen too much of my soul, and never turned away. If she sees this last part, she’ll turn away for sure.

I whisper because I can’t bring myself to speak, “Please, just leave me. I’m not worth it.”

“Sweetie, you’re worth it. Please, let me in.”

“He was right…I’m just a little whore and that’s all I’m ever going to be. All I can think about is how dirty I am. I’m a dirty little whore. He was right, and I was wrong. I can tell. I’m wet over the thought of what Steve could do to me…what I want him to do to me.”

“You’re scaring me, honey. Open the door.”

I’ve never told anyone what happened. I can’t bear it. I’d thought that I might one day open up to Dr. Waters, but it was too late now. He was right, and I was wrong.

“Liadan…open the door!” Angela is frantically pulling on the handle, but it’s locked. I turn on the ignition, and she runs away. I knew it would be too much. I hadn’t even gotten to the really ugly parts yet, the parts where he showed me how much I loved it. How my body responded to him.

He must be right. Not even a day has passed and already I want to lie down with another man.

I sit there, staring out the front window of the car for a couple of moments, and reach over to put the car into gear.

The passenger side window shatters inward, and a frantic Angela is opening the door and climbing inside. She puts her arms around me and turns off the car and I cry into her shoulder.

“You are not a whore, Liadan.”

“You don’t know me…”

“Yes, I know you. You’re not a whore. You are a good person.”

“No…” I’m shaking my head, protesting, but she won’t let me go. I’m so weak now. I can’t pull away. A wave of weariness washes over me and I yawn so wide that my jaw cracks. Angela and I laugh through our tears and she helps me inside…only it’s not my apartment that we enter.

“Angela…”

“I know. We usually do girls’ nights at your place. I thought we’d try mine today.”

“Angela! I can’t…”

“Of course you can.”

“I’m wearing all the clothes I own.”

“Lucky for you I wear my dresses on the long side. They should still, in general, fit you. You’re really skinny now.”

I look at her like she’s crazy, because I know she must be. There’s no way I’m as skinny as she is, and I tell her as much.

“Fine, I’ll prove it.”

She drags me into her bedroom, and tosses me a pair of her jeans. My legs are longer than hers, so I look questioningly at her. She just nods. I slip out of the dress, my first dress, and then slip into the jeans. No tugging. No fuss. They fit a little tighter in the behind than I’m used to, and they are snug around my new parts, but surprisingly comfortable.

I never knew that jeans could feel like this.

“I figured you wouldn’t believe me about a pair of baggy shorts, and since I never go in for hot-pants…”

“I wouldn’t have…but…” I gesture at the six inches of ankle I am showing.

“Yes, you have lovely ankles,” she says with a smirk.

“No, they’re a little high, aren’t they?”

“Nah, they’re just the wrong cut to be considered capris, although you could almost pull it off.”

She grabs me a shirt and a pair of shorts, and I change the jeans for the shorts.

“That bra really doesn’t fit you, does it?”

“No, the band is too big. The cups almost feel right, but the positioning is off.”

I get the shirt on, and it is so short it bares my belly-button.

“I can’t wear this…” I begin but she interrupts me.

“You are going to wear this. I need you to really embrace this. You’re a pretty girl, Liadan.”

“This is slutty.”

She gets really angry at my comment, and drags me over to her full length mirror.

“Ignore for the moment that’s you in the mirror. Tell me what you see.”

“A girl.”

“Go on, I know you’ve got a better eye than that.”

“She’s wearing a cream shirt and shorts.”

“And,”

“And she looks like an innocent girl next door, okay? But she’s not. She’s a slut and a whore and willing to jump any…”

She slaps me, hard, and I put my hand to my stinging cheek.

“You are not a whore.”

“But…”

“You want to have sex. Hallelujah.”

“What?”

“It’s normal.”

“No, it’s a sin.”

“If having sex is a sin, where do all the religious little boys and girls come from?”

I open and close my mouth a couple of times. I have nothing to say about that. The thoughts won’t come. I’m usually better at making arguments than this, but I just can’t, probably because I’m unwilling to cede my position.

“But…”

“Premarital sex, sure, that’s a sin, if you believe in that sort of thing. No one says anything about post-marital sex.”

I blush at the implications. An image of me in a white dress comes to mind. The fantasy continues with Steve’s hands as they slowly…

My knees buckle and Angela helps me over to her bed.

“I thought going weak in the knees was a turn of phrase.”

“For some, maybe, but not for you. I have to admit to being glad I had somewhere to sit a time or two at work.”

“Angela!” I say blushing bright red.

“What? It’s true. There have been some really fine looking guys come in. Steve’s not that bad either.”

I hide my face at that so she can’t see my grin and my even fiercer blush.

“I can’t be having this conversation with you.”

“Why not? I’ve been dying to have it with you for months. You need it. We need to get you out of your shell.”

“Can we get me out of my shell in a different shirt? I really don’t feel comfortable in this one.”

“Sure.”

She grabs a different shirt, which only goes down to the waistband of the shorts, but at least it covers me.

I go and look at myself in the mirror. The new clothing changes my outlook. I could see the sex kitten hiding under the surface with the other shirt. This one, however, just removes the underlying message. I see a cute twenty-something looking back at me.

I shake my head and the girl in the mirror mimics me. Her grin just makes her look even younger, and more innocent. The pain in her eyes belies the innocence on the surface, but it is an innocence that was destroyed by another, not given up by her.

I smile sadly at her, knowing everything she went through, and apologizing with that smile. She does the same for me and we both feel comforted.

“So…who’s this ‘he’ that you mentioned before?” Angela asks me quietly.

I break down crying again. Angela helps me over to the bed, and I collapse onto it. I hug my knees to my chest and just lie there on my side. There is nothing I want less than to think about…him. My life has become a lie. I've become everything that he told me I was, everything that he wanted to make me believe.

Here I am in a body that for the first time really fits me and all I can think about is how much I hate myself for wanting it.

Even if I can’t talk to Angela about this, at least I think about it. I know I need to get it out, but I can’t find the words. They stick in my throat, and the obstruction almost feels physical. Again and again I open my mouth. No sound escapes but my strangled sobs.

Every time he touched me I scrubbed myself raw trying to get the feel of him off, but even now, I can feel him.

I hear someone enter the room, and finally find a voice to say something, anything. “Mom?”

“No, I’m not your mom, but I hope it’s okay that Angela called me.”

“Dr. Waters?”

“I gave her my contact information while we were at the hospital. So, apparently there’s something on your mind that you need to tell me?”

I begin to shake my head no, when she puts her hand to my head to steady it. She quickly has the information downloaded and begins to look it over. That’s fine with me because I really don’t feel like talking. I can push him down again. It’s the only revenge I feel strong enough to take. I hate him more for making me feel helpless than for what he did to me…although making me feel helpless was a major part of what he did.

“So, I see you’re experiencing a severe stress reaction to something, and as this seems to be something in your past. I’m going to go out on a limb and say PTSD.”

“Come on, doctor. You and I both know that the information is pretty much screaming that at you. I know that I’m traumatized.”

“Well, if you’re so self-aware, then why don’t you complete my diagnosis for me? Tell me what happened.”

I almost begin talking right here. For a moment, before I opened my mouth, I felt so comfortable. So loved, and then my mind turns to him and it all slips away again.

“No one can love me,” I mutter. “I’m just a slutty girl. Worse than that, I’m a boy who wants to demean myself.”

“So, it’s demeaning to be a girl?”

“A boy wanting to be a girl is about sex. I must be a homosexual, but afraid of the idea of being homosexual. Or I’m so self-deluded and screwed up that I’m mistaking my normal sexual attraction of women for wanting to be a woman. No man really wants this for himself.” I gesture at my beautiful body and begin to cry again.

Oh, how I want this. I want it so badly that it aches even now. I’ve had a period so I’m probably fertile. I want to be a mother. I want to be a wife. Not in a 50’s sense of loss of identity to the man, but in an equal partnership.

I feel this so strongly that I don’t even realize I’m speaking aloud when I say, “I want to be Steve’s wife.”

“Oh?” Dr. Waters says with a little smile.

Even in the midst of my fear I smile and blush. How can tears turn from pain to joy without ever stopping? And then go back again.”

“Sexual attraction is normal and healthy, Liadan.”

“But I’m a boy!” I try to yell. Again my voice goes all strangled and weak. I let out a wordless cry. I want to be able to scream and yell occasionally, but nature has other ideas apparently.

Dr. Waters laughs softly at that, and I can’t help it, I laugh a little as well.

“Stop that!” I say, trying to be severe, but unable to get it at all. I can’t help it, I break down laughing.

“Now, want to tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Liadan, I can’t do anything unless you help me. I never even knew there was this depth of pain in you. If you want my honest opinion, then you have to share your life with me. It is a good possibility that this is why you couldn’t transition before, especially if your dad…”

I looked at her in horror. “How could you even think that?”

“I don’t know what to think. Most abuse of children happens…”

“I was fifteen, hardly a child.”

“And hardly an adult.”

“He wasn’t an adult either. He was eighteen.”

“According to some definitions, that makes him an adult.”

“I didn’t see him that way. I thought he was cute, and I was so confused by it. In high school I stuck to myself because I really didn’t get people.”

“What about Steve?”

“What? No. Steve and I met in college. He was my roommate in the abortive attempt I made to live at the school dorms.”

“Abortive? You never told me this one.”

I begin to blush hotly and avert my gaze.

“I was so turned on by him changing that it made me uncomfortable. Both of us, really. It was hard not to look at him, and so I found other accommodations.”

“But you two stayed in touch?”

“His parents were paying for his schooling. He helped me to get a private room in off-campus housing.”

“And I can’t believe that you got me off subject so easily.”

“Sorry. I just…hate talking about him.”

“What was his name?”

I open my mouth to speak, and realize that in the past twenty-two years I may not have forgotten him, but absolute refusal to remember his name had worked. I would not dignify him in my memory with a name, and so now he didn’t have one, but this embarrasses me for some reason.

“I can’t remember,” I say, avoiding her gaze.

“Why not?”

“He took my power, my self-image, and he destroyed it, so I didn’t want to dignify him with a name.”

She looks at me a little shocked and I blush.

“Sorry, I should probably remember.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m amazed that you were able to take even that much power out of this. You are scarred and disfigured by this encounter, maybe even more than if he’d physically marred you. No one ever saw the scars because you covered them all up, and showed the world an apparently smooth emotional complexion.”

“Apparently I’ve been wearing makeup for over twenty years and never knew it,” I say with a smirk.

“And an expert job you did, too. It’s my job to notice the cover-up, and I saw nary a crack in your soul.”

“A little poetic don’t you think, doctor?”

“Maybe, but not overly so. So, this older boy…”

“He was the first one who made me feel…alive. His smile made me want to dance…or to sing. I wasn’t really good at either one, but I would have tried it for him. I would have done anything for him to actually smile at me.”

“What happened?”

“I dressed as a girl…”

“What!” Her eyes were wide, and she was half rising to her feet from where she’d been sitting on the end of the bed.

“For Halloween. Let a girl finish why don’t you.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought that maybe you’d dressed…”

I blushed again and averted my gaze.

“You little minx. Of course you dressed up in women’s clothing. Your sister’s I assume?”

“And some of it almost fit. I hadn’t really bulked out across the chest yet. I think it was swimming in my junior and senior year that helped that to happen.”

“Wait…you’re telling me that you were raped…”

“You can’t rape the willing,” I say almost bitterly.

“Did you want to have sex with him?”

“No, but…”

“Then it was rape.”

“But…”

“No, buts. If you didn’t want it, then you didn’t want it. Your body may have responded, but that’s what your body does. It’s called an autonomic response for a reason.

“Your body will even respond if you’re asleep, but you can’t want it then. You’re not even consciously aware of what’s going on.”

“But…I…”

“Ejaculated?”

I nod, unable to even look at her. I feel dirtier now that I’ve admitted it than he ever made me. It felt so…good, but at the same time I didn’t want it to feel good. I hate myself for how much I wanted that, how much I needed that, and yet never wanted or needed it at all.

“I’m just a little whore.”

“No, you’re not.”

“But…I want to let Steve screw my brains out.”

“And?”

“What and? I’m not supposed to want that.”

“He’s a boy, you’re a girl. I shouldn’t need to explain the mechanics to you.”

“But I’m not really a…”

“Could have fooled me. I’ve seen you naked, remember?”

I shake my head, not wanting to believe what she’s saying. I can’t believe what she’s saying.

“How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times did he rape you?”

“One. After that, part of me wanted…”

“How many times did you have sex where you were not a willing participant?”

“I don’t know. It went on for five or six months before he was killed.”

“You didn’t…”

“No…but I wish I did. Apparently one of the girls he raped got pregnant. Her dad found out and took a baseball bat to him.”

“How young was the other girl?”

“Twelve.”

“Sorry…tell me about Halloween.”

“I came to school dressed in a Sailor Moon outfit. I know, generic anime, but I knew that my sewing skills were up to it. I had my sister help me with my makeup. I wore a wig, of course.”

“How did that go?”

“I was using it as a test run,” I continue. I’m lost in the memory, my last happy girl memory, before he ruined everything.

“I was building up the courage to talk to my parents about…how I felt. I loved the attention I got in the costume, and I even got some really nice compliments from some of the girls. It was perfect. To top it off, he asked me to meet him at his house after school.

“I remember how my stomach fluttered when I found out about it. I was so happy. I think I must have radiated joy to those around me. I felt…beautiful.”

Dr. Waters just sits there quietly as I continue to relate what happened so many years ago.

“I arrived at his house…such a nice house…he kisses me and I pull back. No, I’m not that type of girl…not all girls just want to do that to you…he’s undressing, and I can feel myself getting aroused…I’m shaking my head no…please, I don’t want…he’s stronger than I am, and he forces me onto the ground. He tears my panties…no…no…no…I don’t want to, not like this. I don’t want to…but I can feel it building as he continues…every once in a while pleasure just bursts through me…”

I break down sobbing and Dr. Waters just holds me as I cry.

“Doctor, I’m so afraid that he was right, and I’m afraid that even if he was wrong that I’ll feel like I’m there with him again if Steve and I…I want to die.”

“Liadan, you were raped.”

“You can’t rape the willing.”

“Bullshit.”

I look at her shocked.

“The sexual drive is one of the most powerful that we have. We are hard-wired to want to procreate. It is part of who we are. Sex is a natural part of life. You need to embrace the fact that you are a sexual creature. No, I’m not saying to have casual sex, nor am I saying you should dress provocatively.

“You are going to want to have sex. Most people do. This may lessen a bit as the level of testosterone in your blood drops, but…”

“I have testosterone in my blood?”

“Most women do, though not generally as much as you do. Don’t worry, it’s not nearly as high as ‘male you’ had. Just higher than normal. There is some causal linkage between testosterone and female sexual response.”

“Oh, then as soon as this testosterone…”

“Don’t believe it. Female arousal is at least as much mental as physical. If you’re this ‘turned on’ by Steve, I doubt it is all the hormones.”

“He asked me to marry him.”

“I hope you said yes.”

“But I’m a guy…”

“Really? Strip.”

“What?”

“Naked now.”

I get out of my clothing and Dr. Waters walks me over to the mirror.

“I want you to spend some time looking at yourself in the mirror. I’m going into the other room and talk to Angela for a bit.”

She leaves me there looking at myself in the mirror. I’m a little on the skinny side, at least to my own eyes, but I have curves, the dangerous kind. I spend some time examining myself, both visually and tactilely. Nothing sexual, but I want to get the feel of my new body. I want to know where all the parts are. I even spend some time looking at my new vagina.

My vagina.

Mine.

The thought sends little pleasure spikes through me. There is no way that anyone would mistake me for anything other than a girl.

I get dressed again, relishing the feel of clothing on my skin, and head out to where Dr. Waters and Angela are talking quietly.

“I half expected to hear you moaning from the other room.” Angela says when I appear.

I blush, again, but I can’t help it. It’s not that I didn’t think about doing just that just to get a ‘feel’ for my new body, but I want to explore it with Steve for the first time. Not that I tell either of them this. I just smile. I have the same desires as I did before, they’re just focused in a different direction.

Dr. Waters bids us goodbye, and Angela and I go shopping. We start from the ground up, as it were, and get me some everyday lingerie. Then we get the sexy lingerie. Then we go to town and buy me a wardrobe.

“I knew you were rich, but dayum girl, we must have bought up half the store.”

A lot of my clothing comes from regular stores, as a skirt is a skirt, and a top is a top. They just fit a bit shorter on me than other women. Other women, the thought still gives me a warm feeling that I am considered a woman now.

We find enough clothing to really start my wardrobe, but again we find ourselves a Dahle’s before the end of the day. I may be wearing really skinny clothing now, but my legs seem longer. I think I lost most of my height in my torso. Maybe I don’t need heels to make my legs look longer, they are long enough as it is.

Jeans and slacks are my primary purchases at Dahle’s but I get some other things, like a skinnier version of the dress I just loved last time. It doesn’t seem to fit my new shape as well, but I buy it anyway, to remind me of that feeling from the first time I went shopping with my mom as a woman.

Its only when we get home that I realize that I’ve been happy. As we shopped, filling out my wardrobe, I’ve been happy. It’s not the shopping that makes me happy either. I was treated as I appeared to be in every store that we visited. I am a woman. Inside I have been for years, and the outside now matches that. The store clerks treated me as a woman, and I think that is a good portion of how much I purchased. I’d never have purchased this much if I stopped to think about it.

Not that I am a skinflint or something, just that I don’t think I should go out and purchase things for the sake of purchasing them. Even thinking that, I realize that I’ve only purchased the bare essentials. I’d spent years acquiring a wardrobe for Cray. Now, I’d only spent a day trying to do the same for Liadan.

Angela helps me to get the purchases into my apartment and I tell her I have stuff to do. She smiles at me and leaves. I think that she’s not as worried about me as before. I’m not as worried about me either.

That does leave me with a question of what to do with myself, however. With the cry, the counseling, and the shopping, I thought it would be later, but the clock on my wall tells me that it is just a little after three.

Knowing that everyone else wears casual clothing where I’ve decided to go, I get into a t-shirt and jeans.

Every time I imagined being a woman, I was wearing clothing that was distinctly female. It was a dress, or a skirt and blouse. Something along those lines was always a part of my fantasy. While the cut of the clothing was female, there was nothing I was wearing that I couldn’t as the male me. It isn’t a hello kitty t-shirt. There aren’t any sequins on the rear pockets of the jeans.

My outfit was as gender neutral as it could be, and still be form fitting.

I look at myself in the mirror and smile. I am still a woman, even in this.

A realization comes to me. Even when I was wearing guy clothing, I was a woman. Even with a penis, I was a woman.

Being a woman is not defined by how people see you, but it is defined by how you see yourself. Sure, it can be affected by clothing, makeup, and so many other things, but when you are sure of your gender, it comes through no matter what the packaging says.

Most people, I think, rely on the packaging to define their gender.

I take a few minutes to get a light lipstick to look right, but I leave all of my other makeup items where they lay. My complexion doesn’t seem to need it, and neither do I.

I’ll use much of it later, because a woman occasionally needs to show a new face to the world, but today, I think I will go au natural so to speak.

The wind whistles in through the broken window on the passenger side, a stark reminder to what really started this day. I know I’ll have to get it fixed, but currently it stands as a reminder that people really care about me.

I pull into the parking lot and find a space. I know I should just park in the one reserved for me, and everyone inside knows my little blue neon by sight, but I can’t do it. That was Cray’s parking spot, and while we share the same history, I’m not Cray anymore.

Walking across the parking lot in ballet flats is so much different than the shoes or sandals I am used to. They do something to reduce my height. Not much, I’m afraid, but anything is better than truly towering over every guy I meet.

I smile at that. Guys are something foreign for the first time in my thinking. Before all of this happened I was locked away in myself, knowing I was a guy, physically, and wanting nothing to do with it. Somehow that crept into my relationship with the male gender in general, making me resent them.

Now, however, I realize that resentment, and notice it’s leaving. Guys are something…interesting to me now.

While getting dressed, I thought it was because I was bored that I was coming in here, but I now realize that I want to be seen, and by the people I respect the most. The receptionist does a double take as I walk through the door. No one outside the office has a t-shirt like the one I’m wearing. I never told anyone that I got one for myself in a ladies fit.

It’s a mockup of the logo for our new game. The shirt is sort of a company uniform right now, and most of the guys wear it at least once a week. I realize that I need to start hiring more women. Not for any sort of equality, but just so I have some people I can talk to. Sure, I love the guys, to death, and some of them are really great to look at, but I never made friends with any of them. Steve has a much better relationship with them than I do.

“Miss, I can’t let you go in there.”

“It’s alright, Casey, I know I look, and sound, different, but I belong here. Steve should have explained…”

“Cray? No, it can’t be…”

I smile at the woman. She was one of the first people that Steve and I hired. She’d stuck with us through every single one of our successes and failures.

“I prefer Liadan,” I say with a smile.

“Of course, Liadan, and it really suits you better I think.”

“Thank you.”

“When Steve told me what happened, I expected to see Cray tromping around in a dress. Kind of like yesterday, only with breasts.”

“There was nothing wrong with me yesterday.”

“I noticed the nails and earrings.”

“Well, I liked the earrings, and the nails suit me, don’t you think?”

“Maybe in a color other than blue. They kinda scream, ‘I’m trying too hard.’”

I look at her and blink, and then smile. She is a little scared until I smile.

“I think you and I might just have to hang out sometime.”

“I’m not into…”

“Girls? Neither am I, thank god. Otherwise it might be a little awkward with Steve asking me to marry him.”

I blush at what I just said, but Casey squeals.

“You mean we’re having a company wedding?”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“What are you waiting for, girl? He is really good looking, has an excellent job, and I think he might just love you.”

“Casey, it’s not that simple and you know it.”

“Sorry, I got caught up in how natural you look that way. Everything fits now, which didn’t fit while you were pretending to be Cray.”

There is an awkward moment or two so I smile at her and say my goodbyes. Work grinds to a halt as I walk into the main area. Our developers and designers are organized into groups. Their backs to each other with an open space in between. It allows for easier collaboration, while still promoting good work practices. It also means that every one of them can see me as soon as I walk in. Some further back have to stand, but the general change in atmosphere causes all of them to have a look. The room is silent as I make my way to my office.

I can’t help it and I address them before I shut the door behind me.

“You do realize that this game is on a schedule?”

I say it with a smile, as it’s one of my frequent in-jokes. We never publish a release date until we are completely ready to release. It drives our fans crazy, but we have never missed a release date yet.

There are some nervous chuckles, as a couple of them get it, but they still don’t quite get it. Steve comes out of his office, “What’s going on out here?” he asks before seeing me. His mouth drops open.

“What do you think of the shirt?” I say with a smile. His eyes of course drop reflexively to my chest and I see him blushing.

“You little minx.” He says and the room bursts out laughing. I think they realize what I just did. Steve certainly does.

“Steve, you and I have a lot to discuss, like your not preparing the office for my eventual return. Casey actually stopped me wondering who I was.”

“Who are you?” a voice from the back calls.

“This is Cray. She is going to be going by the name of Liadan from now on, as Cray doesn’t seem appropriate anymore.”

“You go, girl,” says Henry. There’s some nervous laughter over that.

“Look, I’m still me, I just upgraded my packaging,” I say.

“It’s a great improvement,” says someone else.

“I’ll have you know she’s spoken for,” Steve says.

“Oh really?” I ask.

Steve colors, so I decide to throw him a bone. I kiss him on the cheek and then turn back to the guys, “nothing is going to change around here. We still have a game to finish, and I’m still noticing lag in the interface, Randal.”

“What lag?”

“The lag where I think about opening the menu and I have to wait until I die because the system stops responding.”

I’m looking at Randal and watch him color. I told him three times in email the problem, and only told him publicly to underscore a point.

“I’ll get right on it.”

I enter my office, and affix the pad behind my ear. I shoot off a quick email to Randal to meet me in my office. I look up to see Steve standing there. I gesture to a seat off to one side and wait for Randal to show up.

“You wanted to see me, Cray?”

“Well, it looks like listening isn’t really your strong suit, is it, Randal.”

“No not really,” he says to my chest.

“Randal, do we need to fire you for harassment as well as incompetence?” I say in a matter of fact tone.

He looks up at me startled. I think my bland expression calms him down a bit. I see Steve cringing in the corner.

“Randal, I’d planned on doing this yesterday, but events prevented me.”

“Events?”

“Yes, a medical emergency. That being said, Randal, I shouldn’t have brought it up in front of the company. If you’d like another chance to fix your mistake, you can have a fix for that bug in to my office by end of day today.”

“That’s only two hours!” he whines.

“Really? Then you’d better hurry. I mean, it’s not as if you have three weeks to complete it.”

“I never saw…”

“The multiple emails I sent you about it?” Steve asks, heading me off. He knew I was about to rip this poor young man a new one. “Or any of the emails that Liadan sent you? I checked your inbox. All of them were marked as read.”

“This isn’t fair!” Randal fairly screams.

“Then you’d better get to work, hadn’t you?” I say, calmly.

“Who are you to tell me what to do you b…”

“You’ll watch your tone, Randal, or I’ll be kicking you out of there,” Steve says, but I hold up a hand to stop him.

“Randal, I’m your boss. That’s who I am. Steve here is also your boss. Steve would likely want to fire you right here,” I say and Steve nods.

“That being said, I’m planning on giving you another chance. This is your last chance. Here’s the problem you have. I actually looked into the cause of the problem. I know why this is happening. I could have fixed the problem last week. It took me a little over half an hour to find it.”

“This is a set up.”

“Nope, it’s a test, Randal. If you pass, you keep your job. You fail, and you don’t.” I say it, again with a smile. I’m not happy to be calling him to task, but I am happy to be me. I get to do what I love, making games, and I get to do it as me.

I think I’ve thrown off Randal, and he sort of nervously walks out of the room. I giggle a bit and Steve smiles at me.

“What’s gotten into you, Liadan. I’ve never seen you so…”

“Bubbly?”

“That works as well as anything else.”

“Because I am really happy with myself.”

“Something changed since this morning.”

“I changed. I buried some of my demons. I’m not perfect…”

“You are to me.”

I see the sincerity in his eyes, and I blush, “I meant I still have issues, silly man.”

“And who doesn’t? Seriously, it freaks me out a little bit how much I love you.”

“What? You’re not…”

“Never. I’d never take back what I’ve said. You’re going to have to get used to me chasing you.”

“And if I tell you I don’t want you?”

“Then you better mean it, because I’ll be gone.”

The floor dropped out from beneath my feet. The idea of him leaving me was more than I could stand. I couldn’t even find word to voice it for a moment.

“I’ve decided I’m no wilting flower. You asked me to marry you, so I’m asking you to a cousin’s wedding. No, I’m not saying yes, yet, but it’s a possibility.”

“You’re asking me on a date?”

“Of course I am. You are, after all, interested in marrying me.”

“Then I’ll go with you to this thing as your date.”

“Good, since I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.”

He smirked at me, and I just pushed him out the door. I did have work to do, after all. Seeing him wasn’t the only reason I’d come into the office. Sure, it had been a big part of it, but it wasn’t all of it by a long shot.

The pain has been growing in my back for a while now. It’s only in the past couple of minutes that I really began to notice it, though. I stretch my arms above my head, linking my fingers and just luxuriating in the feel of my body. It isn’t that I hated how my old body felt, but it was beginning to get old. The aches and pains of life were getting to me. Now…I feel so full of energy. It’s the best feeling in the world, even better than the feel of my breasts on my chest, and a smile just blossoms on my face. My arms are still hanging toward the ceiling when a voice interrupts the zen feeling I have.

“Who are you really?”

“What? I’m your boss.”

“You may be able to fool everyone else, but you don’t fool me. Stuff like this doesn’t happen.”

I look at Randal, shocked. “You doubt I have the authority…”

“You are just a woman, and so you have no place here. This is a guy’s business.”

“It’s video games, Randal.”

“Yeah, and it requires logical thought, not emotional connection. You can deal with people, sweetie, but you can’t fool me into believing you were ever a man, especially a man’s man like Cray.”

Randal is one of the people that I didn’t hire. He came from another company, by way of a year unemployed. Steve thought him enough a steal that he hired Randal without ever discussing it with me. Until this moment, I never doubted that choice.

“Be very careful what you say next, Randal,” I say very quietly. There is a slight quaver in my voice, and by Randal’s smile I think he sees it as fear, not the anger it represents. Too many men read shaking as fear. I’ve always shaken more in anger than fear, but Randal has never seen me angry. Now that I’ve almost completely rooted out my depression, it seems that my emotions are so much closer to the surface. This anger came from nowhere. I got up from behind my desk and moved toward him. I can’t keep my hands still, and keep clenching my fists.

Randal completely misses it, though.

“You listen here, missy. You’re too young to be what you claim. No one will ever take you seriously, but if you play your cards right…”

“What?” He’s actually trying to sexually harass me? I’m visibly trembling at this point. I can feel the white hot point in my gut that is burning away everything but his face. I don’t remember the name of my former assailant, but Randal is a perfect target for the rage that has recently taken the place of all of the fear that I ever felt about that man.

Nature abhors a vacuum, and filler thy name is Randal.

“Oh, I think you know what I mean.” He moves toward me and pins me against the desk. For a moment I feel panic. I’m a teenager again and he’s going to rape me for the first time. I feel as he puts his knee between my legs, trying to force them apart.

Unfortunately for him I’m not a teenager anymore.

“Randal, this is your last chance. Back off now, or suffer the consequences.”

“What are you going to do little girl?”

In answer I bring my knee up into his boys…hard. He collapses onto the ground. I don’t let up. I kick him twice in the balls, hard. When he pulls his knees together and curls into a fetal position, I begin to kick him in the head, the back, the ribs, anything that I can reach. I hear something crack, and then it’s repeated like a gunshot in a staccato echo as I continue to kick him. Even when he relaxes I continue to kick him. At some point I began to cry and I just keep kicking him.

Some arms pull me away from the lump on the floor and for a moment I struggle, trying to get at the next assailant.

“Liadan, relax, it’s just me. He can’t hurt you, relax.”

I turn into Steve and just cry. They’re big wracking sobs that drag the emotion out of me. I have no control over anything and the strength goes out of me. I feel his strength as he lifts me off the ground and takes me to the couch in my office. He lays me down there, and I feel him begin to rise. Blindly I reach out for him, not wanting to let him leave me. I can’t handle it.

He sits back down and I just sob into his back. I can hear him talking to someone through my sobs, and wonder idly who it could possibly be. It’s not enough to get me to really come out of the fugue I am in, but the curiosity is there. He stops talking and just wraps me into his arms, and the last of my tension leaves me. I fall asleep at this point, loosing track of the world around me. The dream that comes shows me events different from the ones that occurred; Randal has pinned me to the desk, and he is ripping off my jeans. I can’t act. I am frozen to act. My legs won’t move, and I can’t think. I scream, and arms enfold me. I push against them, and again Steve’s voice is calming me, letting me know I am safe.

I’m sobbing again.

I’m fitfully dosing again, afraid to fall completely asleep. When I’m awake Steve can protect me, but asleep I’ll have to face the demons alone. Someone enters the room, and Steve begins to rise, but I pull him back to me.

“Stay with me.” I murmur.

“Liadan, we have to leave. The officers want to speak to us.”

“This piece of shit tried to rape me, I put him down. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to come with us.”

“Steve…”

I’m being pulled away, I hold tightly onto Steve, not wanting to leave him. I can’t handle leaving him right now. I begin to whine, a low sound in my throat.

“Look, go take a look at the surveillance video. The offices are also wired for sound. You’ll be able to see exactly what happened. We’ll cooperate completely with you in this.”

I feel myself shutting down completely. There’s nothing I want to do, nothing that feels like me anymore. I was so sure of myself just a few minutes ago. How could I have been so foolish? Life won’t let me be happy. There must be someone who can help me. I pull out my phone. There is only one person who I need to talk to now. I dial the phone and hand it to Steve. “Ask her to come, please. I need…please.”

That is the last that I can say before once again I completely lose touch with my surroundings. I’m being lifted up, and held in someone’s arms. There aren’t any tears left in me, so I just lie there in wordless agony and listen to a heartbeat.

His heartbeat.

It is slow and steady and lulls me into a sense of peace. I drift off into a dreamless sleep. There is a sense of presence in the room, that pushes into my subconscious, but it isn’t enough to wake me up.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to get up.”

“Officer, may I ask your intention?”

“We need to arrest her. The video shows that she clearly over-reacted.”

“Really, that’s what you see? You do realize that she is a rape victim?”

“He never…”

“Not tonight. She was raped, repeatedly, over the course of six months as a teenager.”

“Who are you?”

“Her court appointed psychiatrist, Doctor Karen Waters. She was remanded to psychiatric care when she tried to kill herself.”

“You mean she’s chipped?”

“Yes. She is.”

“Oh…then…well…ma’am…Dr. Waters, we still need to take her.”

“She is not in a state that I can comfortably allow you to take her.”

“I don’t think you have a choice.”

“No, officer, you don’t have a choice. I am a court appointed psychiatrist. She is in my custody from this moment until she is arraigned.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am. Thank you for your concern, officer.”

I fade out again, and the world goes away. I think I’m being moved but nothing matters to me. There are car doors closing, and sense of movement again, but Steve is with me, so I am relaxed, if not happy. There is a sense of emptiness in me, as if all of my emotions, my thoughts, my self has been drained out of me.

I wake up, and sunlight is coming in through a window. It’s not my window, and the surroundings are unfamiliar to me. There is a subdued elegance to it, and I really wonder where I am. The door opens to allow Dr. Waters into the room.

“Good morning, Liadan, how are you feeling?”

“Feeling?” The question makes no sense to me. It should, but there is no connection between me and the words. I struggle to make a logical connection to them, but there is nothing there. I tell her this, “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.” My head is stuffed with cotton, and the world is detached from me.

“Emotionally?”

As I wake up a little more, I realize what she is asking.

“I feel nothing, Dr. Waters.” I want to cry, but there aren’t any tears left in me. I want to scream, but I can’t. The scream is caught in my chest and will not come out. I am nothing. I feel nothing.

“It’s a good thing I intercepted those officers last night…” she begins, but a tone interrupts her. “I’ll be right back, Liadan.”

She leaves me in the room, and I get up and shuffle to the window. I look out onto the expanse of lawn, and I want to feel something. I want to recapture that sense of peace I had last night, but I can’t. It’s gone like any hope I had at a good life. I’m going to jail for the murder of that piece of scum, all because he tried to rape me.

The scream comes then and I collapse to the floor. It is primal and I wonder at it coming out of me at all. It isn’t the sobs from last night, but I feel the impotence in it. I feel like clawing out my own eyes so I never have to look at the happy people around me. I want to destroy my ears so I can’t hear the lies they tell themselves. There is no happiness in this world. It is a fantasy we build for ourselves in order to live with the horror that reality brings to us on a daily basis.

Time loses all meaning as I sit there in the corner. There are jagged edges in my mind that I almost gleefully probe, just to feel something. The pain of what might have been keeps me captive. The shattered hopes and dreams that were offered to me for a brief moment bloody the future and leave it a desiccated corpse of might have been.

The light is no longer streaming in through the window when Dr. Waters finally comes back into my room. Steve is with her.

“Liadan, I need you to get up. We have someplace to be.”

“Yes, Dr. Waters.”

“Steve, could you get her cleaned up?”

“Me, but…”

“I think it is best if you do it. She needs to feel someone who loves her doing this. It’s can’t be impersonal right now.”

“But…” He blushes profusely, and a hint of a smile brushes my lips. He is embarrassed to see me naked. An impish thought to strip off the gown I am wearing strikes me. Before I can do more than take two handfuls of material his hands clamp down on mine.

“Oh no you don’t, Liadan. Let’s at least get you to the bathroom first.”

That seems to have cured him of his embarrassment, at least for the moment. He leads me down the hall, and into a large communal bathroom. I can’t do much more than drag myself along beside him. I wonder for a moment where I am, but only for a moment. I’m alone with Steve, and he is supposed to see me naked. The same impish thought strikes me and I pull off my gown and am out of my underwear as he turns on the water. I feel nothing at the act, and the action is enough to have drained what little life drove me to it.

I stand there passively waiting for him to turn and look at me.

He tests the water for what seems like forever before he is satisfied and then turns toward me. “Lee…”

That is as far as he gets before he catches site of me. Shock registers on his face, and he turns the brightest crimson I have ever seen anyone become. He shifts his pants uncomfortably, and for a moment, panic seizes me. I know what he wants…but then he has pushed me into the water and is wiping me down with a washcloth.

Part of me wants to feel his hands on my body. That part of me is sending signals to places I only recently acquired. I tingle.

Part of me is afraid of what he would do if he was touching me. I know that he only wants one thing, that’s all men have ever wanted of me. They want to screw me and throw me away.

No, not Steve, never Steve. It’s all I can do not to

Eventually I relax and take some small pleasure in the act of being washed by the man I love. I want to help him, to do something to assist…to take him into me…somehow…but I can’t. It takes all of the energy that I have to just stand there, and I wonder for a moment if I am drugged.

He finishes cleaning me, thoroughly but gently, and then dries me off. He takes a clean gown from a rack next to the showers and helps me to dress. His arms go around me as he guides me back to my room, and I lean against him. I wish, in this moment, that the nanites had taken more height. I am taller than him. How will I ever be able to fulfill the role that society expects if I am so much taller than he is?

I want to put my head against his chest as we are walking, but I can’t.

I sit down on the bed when we get to the room, and someone is brushing out my hair. I smile a bit again as the feelings released by the brush course through me.

“Well, at least you no longer look like a mad-woman,” Dr. Waters says. “Randal will survive, so at least there’s that. They are still considering charging you with grievous bodily harm, but I’m trying to get them to drop that charge.”

“Dr. Waters?”

I turn to see a woman standing at the doorway. “Yes, Wendy?”

“You need to call the district attorney’s office, something about Liadan’s case.”

She rushes out of the room, and I watch her go in amazement. I’ve never seen her move that quickly. Steve guides me over to the bed and he maneuvers me so that he is half holding me. I get the opportunity I missed earlier to lean my head on his chest, and I feel like smiling. I like this. I look up into his eyes and see him looking down into mine.

A smile plays at the corners of my mouth. He is everything that I need and everything I have ever wanted. I don’t know why I couldn’t tell him before, but I’m ready to say yes now.

“Steve…”

“Liadan,” Dr. Waters says from the door, “I have some good news.”

“’Good’ news?”

“Yes, it seems that they are, at least in the short term, dropping the charges against you.”

“What? But, I mean, video and…and…”

“The DA doesn’t want the political shit-storm that charging you and the person who assaulted you would cause in an election year.”

“Charging…” I’m usually not this slow, but today my mind just can’t catch up. I’ve sat up on the bed, hoping that changing position will help me to adjust my mental attitude.

“Randal is being charged with multiple cases of sexual assault. His DNA has been connected with a number of cold cases.”

“How can DNA be back so quickly?”

“Where do you think the technology for the complete rewrite you went through came from? They’ve been working on ways to detect DNA with nano-tech for years. They’ve got the complete profile down to a couple of hours now. With the nature of the case, they rushed it.”

“Wait…rewrite…”

“Oh, that’s right. I never told you. You are XX karyotype now.”

“How…”

“Look, that is beyond even my knowledge. The company has sent me their material so that I can at least continue to help with your treatment. I’ve passed it on to your GP as well, and it is part of your medical records.”

“What does this mean?”

“It means that medically speaking, you are normal.”

“What is normal?” I say as sort of a side comment to myself.

“We need to stop by the courthouse today.”

“I thought you said they were dropping the charges against me.”

“They are, but I’ve arranged to get you declared legally female.”

“Oh…oh!” A smile lights my face and I turn and kiss Steve. Really kiss him. My mind finally kicks into gear and when I stop kissing him I look down into his eyes and simply say, “yes.”

He looks confused for a moment, and then a smile splits his face, “you mean…”

“I mean yes, I mean I will marry you.”

He pulls the ring out of his pocket; of course he had it with him the whole time. As the ring slips on my finger I know that everything has changed forever. From this moment on, I am bigger than myself. It is better to say that we are bigger than the sum of our parts.

Steve and I together are greater than either of us were apart.

The ring weights nothing. The ring is a terrible weight on my finger.

Dr. Waters shoos Steve from the room before anything can get out of hand. I change into the clothing I was wearing yesterday and go with Dr. Waters to car her, and I’m babbling away, and I can tell she’s concerned, but I can’t bring myself to be worried about it. That should concern me, but even the thought it should doesn’t bother me in the least.

“Liadan, before we go in, I need to ask you something. Should you really be accepting Steve’s proposal right now?”

“But I love him.”

“I get that, but you’ve gone through a really traumatic experience. Do you want to forever link your feelings with Steve with this?”

“But…”

“I get the concept of moving on, but this might not be the best time…”

“Dr. Waters, don’t take this the wrong way, but screw you. I know it’s sudden, in certain respects, but even if it wasn’t formal, Steve and I have been, well, dating off and on for the past eighteen years.”

“What do you mean?” she says. She’s back in her normal mode of address now, not cold, exactly, but not friendly. She just…is.

“Steve and I were friends. We got jobs in the same companies, and the two of us broke off to form our own company together. Sure, he’s dated, occasionally, but I always thought that he would eventually marry a nice girl and settle down. In the past couple of days he told me he has been waiting for the nice girl to be ready to settle with him.”

“Really?”

I blush, “yes, really. He actually told me he thought he might be gay, or at least bisexual. He has loved me as I looked before, and loves me as I am.”

“You don’t think…”

“No, I was the only ‘guy,’ or so he says, that ever interested him. And I was never really a guy was I?”

“From the moment I met you, I could tell that you were never a guy. When you told me your story, all of your story, it was more a confirmation than anything else. It was like a puzzle with some of the pieces missing. You almost have the entire picture, but it just seems off. Parts of the image seem to be showing you something out of kilter with the rest of the image. You put in the last pieces, and everything finally fits. You fit into the normal stereotypes that people build up subconsciously as they grow.”

“Oh…”

“It’s not a bad thing. You are a woman, Liadan, and a beautiful one at that. Let’s go in and make sure the world agrees with us.”

In the end, it was nothing spectacular. We sign lines, have blood drawn, fingerprints taken, and so on. Then they take my picture and give me a new driver’s license.

I’m legally female.

The feeling of joy that fills me at this moment is greater than I can handle and it expresses itself in a smile. There is another feeling that is making itself known to me.

“Steve, could you give me a ride home? Or at least over to the office to pick up my car?”

“Sure, we got your car home to your house, so I can drive you there.”

“As long as there’s nothing else?” I ask, looking at Dr. Waters.

“No, we’re done here, Ms. Liadan Allenwood.”

Sure, it’s my name, and just my name, but having it intoned seems to make it more official than the pictures or license did. I rush over and hug her and tell her, “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Now, you and your fiancé need to go on home.”

I wrap and arm around Steve’s and he guides me out to his car. I catch myself looking down at the ring on my finger in amazement. Such a little bit of carbon and gold, but the significance is greater than either it’s value or it’s artistic worth. This is a crystallized representation of his love for me, and my loyalty to him.

I realize in that moment, that my ring for him, when we are married, means the same thing. My love, his loyalty.

Why does the girl have to prove her loyalty first? But I do get to feel his love first every time that I look at it, and I guess that it’s a fair trade…for now.

There is a part of me that wants to make him prove his loyalty. Somehow I realize that it would have the opposite effect to the one that I want.

Steve talks to me as we drive, and I participate, at least a little. Mostly I am soaking up his love for me, hoping to get back to something resembling normal in my outlook. The sound of his voice soothes me, relaxing away the pains of last night.

I’m smiling at him, and happy at everything that is happening right now.

“So,” he says parking the car in front of my apartment.

“So,” I reply with a shy smile. “Would you like to come in?”

“I don’t know…”

“You’ve never visited my apartment before. Come on. It’s not like you don’t already have a promise from me, Mr. Ferrel.” I say gesturing with my ring.

He smiles at me and goes to open my door for me. I let him. He gives me a hand to help me out of the car. I smile up at him as he does, and allow myself to be pulled into his embrace.

We walk to my apartment arm in arm.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask as I head into the kitchen.

“Just some water, thanks,” he replies. This is normal for him, and I just smile. I could probably have guessed what he wanted, but it feels better to allow him the option to choose.

I bring him his glass and bring one of my own. We talk quietly for a while and then I put on a movie. It’s something he suggested, and I just lean into him. My breathing is shallow as I begin to realize that we are truly alone here. Steve puts his arm around my waist and the tingling from before is back.

I begin to feel moist below, and my breath catches in my throat. The spot where his hand touches my bare skin is on fire, and when he slowly begins to rub his fingers back and forth the fire spreads to my entire body.

He’s only touching this one spot on me and yet I can feel the pressure building in me. It’s not the same as it was when I was a boy, but I can tell when I’m becoming aroused. I can tell when I’m approaching climax.

And I’m approaching climax. It is like an entire new world has been opened before me, this realization that his slightest touch could bring this up in me. My entire body seizes up and my breathing stops as I peak, and I’m soaked below.

My breathing is ragged, and I have a goofy grin on my face.

“Liadan, are you ok?”

I nod, “Mhmm.” I stretch and put my hands over his.

“Did you just…”

“Mhmm,” I purr at him.

He pulls his hands away from me as if he was burned.

“Liadan…”

“Steve?” I say, a ball of ice in my stomach.

“I shouldn’t have come here.”

“No, don’t say that,” I plead.

“I have to go.”

“Stay with me. I’ll move to the other side of the couch, you don’t have to leave here.”

“I can’t stay here. We can’t do this.”

“Do what? We’re both adults here, Steve.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you, Liadan.”

“You already did, face it and own up to it.”

“I just touched you.”

“And that is enough. I love you, Steve.”

“I can’t stay here, I need to leave before we do more here.”

“Don’t leave me!”

“I have to. I won’t do this to you.”

“If you leave me…”

“Don’t say it, Lee.”

“If you leave me, don’t bother coming back,” I say with venom in my voice.

“You don’t mean that.”

I take the ring off and throw it at him. He’s just like all the rest. He screws me and leaves me. “Get out!” I scream my strangled scream at him.

He leaves quietly after putting my ring on the end table. I hear the door lock behind him and I begin to cry the tears that I thought were gone forever when I said yes to him.

The next day I don't get out of bed. I lie there looking at the ceiling. The only thing I can do is avoid thinking of the mistakes I've made in my life.

"That's it," I say talking to myself, "No more wallowing in self pity."

I get up and get some loose clothing on. It will be easier to get out of where I'm going. I grab my ring off the table on my way out the door and slip it into my purse.

I walk into Sandy's shop. "I think we need to take my dress in," I say with a little smile.

"Damn, Liadan, you look good."

"But I'm so much thinner than when you measured me before."

"Crap, you're right," he says with a smile. He hands me the dress and I strip down and change into it. It's falling off me, of course, but Sandy just clucks his tongue and begins making marks and pinning darts. It takes five or ten minutes but when he's done I catch a look of myself in the mirrors and it takes my breath away.

"Is that me?" I say in a little bit of awe. A few tears leak forth as I smile.

The dress has gone from something I'd never like to something that fits me better than any dress I'd tried on. "This dress is amazing. How did you make it for me without ever having seen me?"

"The same way I make most of my dresses; I saw it in a dream."

I laugh, "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope, I dream about crinolines and lace. Do you think any less of me?"

"I couldn't think any less of you, Sandy."

"Well, thank you so much…I can't even think of a good name for you."

"So, I'm not even worth an insult? Thank you sooo much."

He just laughed and I giggled like a little girl. He undid the zipper and let me out of the dress so he could get to work on the alterations. He had to have it ready for tomorrow after all. "Sorry about coming in so last minute. It's been a crazy week," I said as I was getting dressed in the clothes I'd come in wearing.

"Someday you'll have to tell me about it. Did you hear I'm going to be Angela's date for the wedding?"

"Really?"

"Your cousin wanted me to be there just in case she needed any alterations to her dress and Angela and I thought that if she was there as my 'assistant'…"

"You just wanted to see her there in a pretty dress."

"No, I want to help her out of a pretty dress, but seeing her in one is enough of a start."

"You're a bad man, Sandy."

"I just love that I can still treat you like one of my guy friends, even though you're now one of my girl friends."

"Um…"

"You haven't changed all that much. A little packaging, really, but you're still you. Don't ever change, Okay?"

"No, I won't change, and I'm not going to hug you even though that statement really makes me want to."

He takes me into his arms and gives me a friendly squeeze. "I'll accept that change. You're as huggable as you look."

I laugh and head into the bathroom to repair any damage to my makeup.

"See you tomorrow, then?"

"I should be done with this in a couple of hours, actually. I want to get a final fitting in tonight just in case there are any problems. I'll still have time to get it altered. I want you to be able to wear this dress whenever the mood hits you."

"Why?"

"Because it's the most beautiful dress I've ever created, at least when you wear it. I sort of feel sorry for your cousin."

"Why's that?"

"Because you might just outshine the bride."

I blush as I leave the store. I take a swatch of cloth with me to the makeup counter in a nearby store. I want some colors that will look good with it. I'm still wearing my metallic blue nail polish, and it calms me every time I see it.

Cosmetics in hand, I take a moment to reapply my personal color before heading in to work. The time I spent with Sandy has centered me. He was always a good friend in school, and it looks like nothing has changed. I wonder at his self control with all those beautiful women around him every day. He is definitely one of a kind.

I walk into the company and wave at Casey as I walk past. Steve isn't in his office so I head to mine and get to work. I code and test for a couple of hours before I just run out of patience.

I head out front to where Casey is still sitting. "Do you know where Steve is?"

"He's working from home today."

I'm sure I look disappointed, because she looked at me with pity in her eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"We had a fight, and I'd hoped to try to patch it up here. Un fortunately I'm not having any luck focusing on work right now."

"Then go to him."

"I can't do that. I'm a grown woman, not some lovesick teenager."

"All the more reason to go to him. Show him you're an adult about the whole thing."

"That's part of the problem, I think."

"He does care about you. I was sure he was gay, the way he doted on you before."

I smile sadly, "Apparently he saw through my façade easier than some other people."

"Nah. I just saw how feminine you were and assumed. Who knew that you really were the woman in that relationship?"

I stick my tongue out at her and head for the door. "Come on, go to him," She calls as I'm leaving.

I drive my little Neon to the dealership instead. I wait around while they replace the window that Angela broke out. I know I'm stalling, but what can I do. I really don't feel as though I did anything wrong, but the way that Steve is acting, could I be the wrong one here?

I make a phone call as I go out to my newly repaired car, "Dr. Waters…could I speak with you about something?"

"Go right ahead, Liadan."

"I had an orgasm when Steven touched me"

"How do you feel about that?"

"Wonderful, or I did until he left me."

"Tell me a bit more about the circumstances."

"Well, I sorta promised him we wouldn't have sex. Then, when I was a bit goofy afterwards I let him know what happened. I didn't plan to be so…I have no idea how to describe what his touch does to me."

"Are you afraid this is a side effect of the nannites?"

"Of course I am. Could it be? Could they have made me some sort of sex-crazed maniac?"

"Are you sleeping with strangers?"

"No. I didn't even sleep with Steve. He just touched my side, rubbing these small circles." My breath became short just thinking about last night. I can feel it building, and then I sigh and my body tenses again as a rush of pleasure goes through me again.

"Oh, god," I say almost in tears. "I just did it again. I'm so embarrassed."

"You just…oh. That's…embarrassing."

"Sorry, I'll go."

"No, Liadan. Maybe you and I should talk about this more, in person."

I nod mutely.

"So I can get the readouts from your 'minder."

"Oh," I say relieved.

I drive over to Dr. Waters' house and park my car. I grab my purse and head up to the door. It's only a moment or so that I hesitate, but then I knock, waiting for someone to answer. Dr. Waters opens the door and smiles at me. "Come on in, Liadan."

My answering smile is happy, if still a bit worried. My emotions are all over the map. I follow her into her office and have a seat. She hooks up the pad behind my ear so that she can get real time data. Sure, I enjoyed the last two times this happened, while they were happening, but that doesn't mean it doesn't scare me half to death now that I'm clear headed and can think about it.

"So, what happened after?"

I sit back, relaxing, not wanting to think about after, but knowing I had to tell her. "I think I accused him of rape, when what I did could almost be considered rape…couldn't it?"

"Did you intend to have an orgasm with him on the couch?"

"Well, not really, but when I started…climaxing…I didn't stop him from touching me."

"Did it feel good?"

"Oh yes. Completely. His touch took me where I wanted to be, and it was him with me, and I wanted to share that with him. I wanted to give him some of that pleasure back."

"I think this took both of you by surprise. I think that Steve is afraid of what sex with you outside of marriage will mean to your long term relationship."

"But…if I don't care…"

"Can you truly say you would respect him if he came in here and had sex with you, right now, on that couch?"

I think about it, and realize she is right. If he'd stayed, I would have hated him for it. When all the hormones and chemicals my body had been flooded with had passed, I would have been pissed at him for not respecting me enough to leave…and when he left I'd accused him of…

"What's wrong with me?"

"You're a beautiful mess, Liadan, but I think that Steve just wants to see the beautiful in you. Are you still engaged?"

"I think so. I threw the ring at him, but he just picked it up and put it on the table for me."

"Ok, it looks like the system is responding to your 'minder. I want you to think back on his touch again."

The response is almost immediate. I can feel the pressure building inside me, seeking for release…only this time it keeps building. My breathing becomes shallow. My thoughts shatter into little pieces, only to have the pieces shatter even smaller. "Steve…" I call out as it builds even more. I flush. Finally, when I can take it no more I peak and all of my muscles contract and I'm shuddering and sobbing because it's so beautiful and at the same time so very ugly and I'm exposed and dirty and alone.

Dr. Waters just holds me as I break into little pieces again, only not the good kind.

"I think your 'minder is broken."

"But…it still tells me the time, and I can still interface with my computer and…"

"And it keeps looping you into certain emotional states. I'm surprised I didn’t notice this before. It's causing a feedback loop. To a certain degree it's been making you a bit bipolar."

"What can we do about it?"

Dr. Waters gets up and walks over to her desk. She checks a couple of things on her computer while I wait patiently for a response. "Ok, it looks like we can have you in surgery on Monday."

"Surgery?"

"Well, it's the only way we can fix the problem with your 'minder. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, but you'll want someone there to drive you home."

I nod, unsure of what to feel about it.

"Liadan, it's not the end of the world. You're a strong woman. You'll get through this."

"How much of what I've decided recently is the 'minder and how much is me?"

"Is that what you're worried about?"

"What if I don't really feel what I think I do? What if I'm not really this," I say grabbing painfully onto my breasts.

"I don't think I have to worry about that."

"Why not?"

"Because I've spoken to Angela."

"What does that…"

"You've wanted to be a girl for a long time, longer than you've had a minder. You stepped in front of a bus, remember?"

How could I forget? In certain aspects I'd died that day. In one certain regard I'd only come alive that day as well. When I was lying in bed recovering from the implant of the 'minder, I'd decided that I was done hiding from who I was, that I truly needed to live my life.

Sure, I'd gone back on that deal, but at least I'd started down the path that lead me here, led me to being a woman.

"Help me?"

"I'll always help you. Now, let's discuss how you deal with Steve."

"I don't want to 'deal' with Steve. I want him to make love to me until I'm a pile of jell-o and then do it again…" I blush as I realize that I just said that aloud.

"I've told you before; it's perfectly healthy to have a libido."

"He wants to wait. I'm ruined, but he wants to wait for our marriage bed."

"Liadan…you're a virgin."

"How can that be? With all that boy put me through? I'm sullied. I'm debased."

"You've never willingly been with a man, Liadan. And I was referring to physically. Your body is pristine. You were given a second lease on life."

"My…wha…huh?"

"That was very elegantly said. You may have noticed all your scars are gone? All of them, including those left by…him."

I absently touch my behind, knowing the blood that he'd caused to flow.

"How…" I pause unable to continue. I'm crying, but I don't know if it is from joy or pain. I do know these tears are cleansing and I'm feeling better in my soul the longer they flow.

"Do I know or how did it happen?"

I just nod as I'm unable to form coherent thoughts enough to make words escape my mouth.

"Well, as to the first, my title of 'doctor' isn't just honorary. I read your charts while we were in the hospital. You had your first gynecological exam while you were unconscious on Tuesday. Count your blessings, girly. As for the other, I let the doctor know some of what had happened to you in the past so that he would check the other area."

"He? My gynecologist is a male?"

"No, the one that the hospital assigned is male. You get to pick your own."

"Oh," I said and blushed. The idea of some strange male looking at me down there made me blush harder. I shuddered.

"I just don't understand how girls can stand some strange guy poking them down there."

"I personally prefer a male. It's so weird to me considering a woman doing it. I mean, the male anatomy is designed to penetrate, so…"

"We are so not having this conversation right now."

She just laughs at me and I blush again.

"There is a reason that there are both male and female ObGyn's out there. Some women prefer another woman to be ministering to them in a totally clinical non sexual way, and some prefer a man."

I sit there thinking for a while. There's so much to consider. I'm in the middle of my ruminations when something really strikes me.

"I'm a virgin." I say it with a certain amount of fear. My first time was really painful. I thought that I'd never have a first time again. The room went grey and my ears began ringing. I'd almost gone to bed with Steve, and there would have been that pain again. I never wanted that pain again.

"Deep breaths, Liadan." I hear coming from a long way away. It's Dr. Waters.

"I'm a virgin." I saw again.

"Yes, I realize that."

"No, I can't go through that again. That pain. I can't…"

"Liadan, this isn't the same."

"But…"

"Yes, being raped hurts, especially when you're a virgin. When he loves you, and takes his time and makes sure your body is ready, you won't care about a little pain, and it isn't as much as the pleasure you two will be feeling."

"But…I'm scared."

"So was I with Mr. Waters."

"You're married?"

"I was, a long time ago it feels sometimes."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I still love him, even if he's no longer with me. He made that experience wonderful for me. I'm sure Steve will do the same for you."

"I just realized. I have no idea what it will be like. I don't know how it will feel. That other part of me, that part that he took, I never have to offer to Steve. I leave it in my past as if it happened to another person."

"In a certain light, yes, you're right."

"Then, I'll just stay in the light."

She laughs a bit when I say this. I smile at her, just happy to be through this crisis of my own creation. No, not my creation. I wouldn't accept the parts that were given to me. I would take responsibility for my own actions only.

"Thank you, Dr. Waters."

"See you on Monday, Liadan."

I get in my car and smile down at my nail. They're blue. I love blue. I think that blue might be my favorite color. Screw stereotypes. I am a girl and I love the color blue.

I drive home in a happy mood. I look at the time and head out immediately again. It's a quick stop at Sandy's store. The alterations are perfect. I head home so I can get ready for my evening. I throw on a dress, get made up, and do my hair. Looking at my wardrobe, I realize that I have a lot of dark colors in there. I do have a number of blue dresses as well. I fine a not so dark blue dress and slip it on. With the sparkles in it, it looks a lot like my nails and car.

I have a matching pair of shoes that I slip onto my stocking covered feet.

I go with a black clutch as I don't have a matching purse. Some silver spiral drop earrings complete my look and I sprits some perfume and walk out the door.

The drive to the church is over quickly and I park and make my way inside.

"Who are you?" my cousin Fiona says. She's the matron of honor.

"Liadan, you made it," Kate says, coming over and giving me a hug.

"Who?"

"This is my new sister."

"Cray..?"

"My name is Liadan," I say glaring at my younger cousin.

"This is a joke, right?" she says looking nervous.

"At some point, if it will make you feel better, we can all get naked and show off how female we all are. Until then, we have a rehearsal to do."

She just looks at me a little shocked. My youngest cousin walks over and hugs me, "Thank you, Cray. This means the world to me. I heard what you sacrificed for this."

"Heard? From my dad? Well, my name is Liadan, Amy, and this is the best thing to ever happen to me." I'm smiling like there's no tomorrow.

"Liadan? You really are happy, aren't you?"

I just nod and smile.

"Fiona, be nice to Liadan. Liadan, love the dress."

"Thank you," I say with a smile.

We go and stand where we fit height wise. They want us to look pretty, and to have everything organized. Once we are set up height wise, with me on the far end of course, we go out and do the processional and the recessional.

Then we had to do the processional and recessional again, this time with me in stocking feet, because I was taller than Jim. Jim was the cousin that I was opposite in the lineup. In stocking feet he was a few inches taller. I shouldn't have worn the shoes. Sure, they matched my outfit, but they had a six inch heel.

For some girls, that would have put them on tip toe, but in a women's size 11 shoe it isn't that bad. A size 11 shoe means that in essence I have an 10 and a half inch foot. That meant I lost two inches in foot length. I would have been happier in a smaller size, but you live with what you have.

Regardless, I liked the heels as it made me the same height as I used to be as a guy. I was the tallest male cousin before, now I was the tallest female cousin…and taller than some of my male cousins.

"Sorry, Jim," I say as we're doing it again.

"Those are some of the sexiest heels I've ever seen. It makes me wish you weren't my cousin." I blush as he takes my arm and escorts me up to the front. "Need I remind you that you're married?"

"I knew there was another reason I couldn't make a play for you."

I playfully swat his arm and then walk to my place at the end of the line. Fiona and Ryan are the last ones to come up to the front. We wait for a moment or two and the Amy is being escorted down the aisle by her father. Even if she's in everyday clothing, I think she makes a beautiful bride.

The pastor, Julian Aires, says a few words about what we can expect from the ceremony. It's old hat to me. I've been through this same speech, or at least a similar one, fourteen times before. Then we're doing the recessional again and finally going back out to the cars. Jim appears at my side and gives me an arm to steady myself while I put my shoes back on.

"Jim?" Lois says as she approaches us.

":Hey, Lois. You're husband was just helping me get my shoes back on. I guess I'm wearing flats tomorrow."

"Lucky…do I know you?"

"I'm Kate's sister, Liadan," I say with special emphasis.

"You're…oh…you look good, Liadan."

"Thank you," I say with a little smile.

"See you at the dinner, Liadan," Jim says, taking his wife's arm.

I watch them go off and I feel a little sad. It's a sort of wistful sadness, knowing that is what I want; someone who will love me for me, flaws and all. Jim and Lois have been married for eleven years.

We're eating at a local steak house, and I drive over there quickly, but not too far over the speed limit. I'm the middle over all and the woman at the front desk escorts me back to the room that they've hired out for the evening.

"What's that doing here?" I hear a voice behind me say.

"I love you too, Jeff.""

"Jeff, you're only here because you're family. Liadan is in the bridal party. If you want to stay, you will be civil," Amy says to him.

"But?"

"Yes, you are a butt."

He gets an angry look on his face and glares at me.

"Amy, thanks for the assist, but I can handle my own little brother." I sashay over to him and put my finger under his chin.

"Jeff? I'm going to say this once, pay attention; Through no fault of my own, I am now a girl. It's permanent. As a girl I am entitled to wear dresses, date boys, and even get married, to a boy. I'm capable of having children, with a boy. So, I'll not be responding to comments like 'thing' 'it' or 'freak' bandied in my direction. Do I make myself clear?"

He just nods at me and goes and finds a seat.

"That was awesome," Kate says coming up to stand next to me. I give her a hug.

"I've been wanting to put him in his place for years," Amy says.

"You're okay, Liadan," Fiona says.

Fiona's statement is as good as I could accept from her. She is my dad's sister's kid so she has the same types of bigoted ideas as many in my family do. My mom's family is a lot more open minded. I walk arm in arm with Amy and Kate over to the girl's side of the table.

I don't know how it works for anyone else out there, but my family tended to segregate the girls and the boys at the rehearsal dinner. The bride and groom get the opportunity to sit at opposite ends of the table. It's as close to a Shivaree as we get in our family. Yeah, I know, it's a really old tradition, but we are a, mostly, traditional family.

The night before, starting at the rehearsal, we keep the bride and groom apart until the ceremony itself. One of my cousins had their ceremony at six in the evening. That was almost fun keeping them apart, especially since they played along and did their best to get together.

So, I sit at the table through the toasts and the friendship and the gifts.

"We got all of the bridesmaids a pair of earrings…if any of you…"

"Paul, shut up before you say something stupid," I say with a smile.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm sure Liadan will love the earrings, even though they were originally meant for Jenny."

I open the small box and smile. They are a pair of hearts in Amy's colors. They're obviously meant to go with the pixie dress tomorrow, so I'm happy to wear them. Seeing my dad's look I quickly remove my current earrings and put the new ones in.

Kate sees what I'm doing, and who I'm looking at, and joins in with me. Soon, one by one, each of the bridesmaids put in the new earrings and looks over at my father where he is sitting. He just throws his hands up in exasperation and walks out.

I smile at my mom who gives me a little grin.

"Sorry about my husband," my mom says, "he's still getting used to the idea of having two daughters."

"That's fine, Miranda," her father says, "He'll just have to suck it up. I was worried that Amy would be the last of my granddaughters to get married. I'd always hoped that one of them would choose for me to give them away. If he's going to be an ass about it, then I'll get the opportunity to give Liadan away at her wedding."

I smile at my grandpa. Apparently his wife told him everything before she died, something I should have realized before this. He smiles back at me and gives me a little wink.

"I'm sorry if my drama took away from Amy's time, but it is her time. So, can we get back to it?"

"Thank you, Liadan…that name is such a mouthful. Don't you have a nickname yet?"

"Angela calls her Li, but she complains that it's a boy's name."

"Well…I say almost absently. It is spelled Leah — Dan…so I would be fine with Leah."

Jim pipes up from his end of the table, "great. I was wondering how long I'd be able to handle saying the whole thing, Leah."

The night gets back to normal after that with the exception of everyone now calling me Leah. They give out more gifts to the family, then the groomsmen give a gift to Amy to be opened on her wedding night.

Having been on that side of the table, I snicker a little, joined quickly by my married female cousins. We all know what's in the box. Amy looks clueless, as did all of my other female cousins on the night before their wedding. From the knowing glances of the other women, I can tell they enjoyed their gift. Sure, the guys meant it as a prank, but from the other side of the fence I realize that women…well…I don't need to go any further in that direction.

My aunts, including my mother's sister, give me hugs on the way out the door. I seem to be getting as much attention as Amy, something I'm embarrassed about.

"I'm sorry that I seem to have upstaged your night a little bit."

"Don't worry about it, Leah. My night is tomorrow. Coming here in that dress just allowed everyone to get to know you, and your peculiar sense of style."

"What's wrong with my sense of style."

"Nothing…if you like the color blue."

"I love the color blue. In fact, I've just decided that my bridesmaid dresses are all going to be blue. Blue is going to be one of my wedding colors. You know it represents loyalty, don't you."

"When are you getting married?"

I look into my purse and pull out my ring. "Whenever I can apologize to my fiancée," I say with a small smile.

"Put it on," I hear Kate say from behind me, "him seeing the ring on you will go a long way to apologizing."

"Especially since I threw it at him the last time I saw him," I say sadly.

"Why did you do that?" Fiona says coming up to us,

"Because I have hang-ups and issues," I look around at the women around me. They're my family, and for the first time I realize that every one of them accepts me as I am. If I'd known it could be like this I would have joined their ranks long ago.

"Can we go somewhere else to talk about this? I feel kind of uncomfortable talking about it here."

"Sure, and I nominate your apartment, Leah. You have your jammies, girls?" Fiona says.

"Jammies?" I'm confused as to what sleepwear has to do with anything.

"We always have a sleepover the night before the wedding. That's part of the reason Janie had a six pm ceremony."

"Guilty," Janie says.

We all laugh and link arms to go out to our cars. We convoy it over to my apartment and they begin to gather their supplies and move in after me. I see an impressive array of sleeping bags and blankets come in with them.

I sit on my couch waiting for the rest to come in and I see the surprise on their faces. This is the first time really any of them have seen my apartment. Kate's the only exception.

I see it new in their eyes. It is a masculine apartment, but there is a definite feminine touch to it. It have beautiful drapes and curtains on the windows. I have a multitude of throw pillows on the couch. The smell I always associated with Kate's and Angela's apartment in college has begun to permeate my house. It's that mixture of makeup, talcum powder, and hair products that seem to scream female more than any simple decoration. I have black and white photos on the walls of trees and mountains.

"Did you decorate this?" Janie says a little awed.

"Yes. I needed a space I could feel comfortable…although the couch has got to go. I've had my eye on another one for ages."

"Let me guess," Amy says as she picks up a number of my throw pillows. They don't really match my leather couch, but they perfectly match the sofa I've always wanted to have here.

I nod with a smile.

We all get ready for bed. I slip into some silk pajamas and my kimono.

"So, now that we're at your home, dish. Tell us what's going on."

I look at the concerned faces all around me and can't help it. I break down in tears and begin my story.

"When I was a teenager, I was raped."

Liadan Allenwood lives in a universe that has almost limitless possibilities, much like our own. One thing her Universe has that ours does not is the

I bring them up for a news article that was published after the events of Always a Groomsman, Never a Bride. Well, I'll let the article speak for itself.

The Recall that Saved a Company
By Chris Forth

In the months following the almost criminal acts of Suzerain Pharmaceutical, a division of Dharma Corp, a couple of things are abundantly clear: people want their products more now than they did before, and you can't buy this type of advertising.

It started out as a bit to provide a little harmless fun for frat boys, and some balm for the weary in the transgender community. They produced the now infamous Femin-U potion. It hit shelves at two in the morning on a Friday. The commercials, print ads, and internet banners went out the night before. It became a meme almost instantly. This was a product that writers of TG Fiction have speculated on for years, even before nanotechnology became a reality.

The initial shipment of potions flew off the shelves and within forty-eight hours the entire 100,000 bottles had been sold. If, as some have claimed, the entire batch had been the more potent GK909 we would likely have seen a horrific death toll. As it was the deaths of over a thousand people in two days from a single cause is bordering on catastrophic.

It is estimated that more than 60% of people who ingested the viral compound died as their bodies consumed themselves trying to provide energy for the transformation it called for. This number remains an estimate as many of the girls who survived are likely hiding in plain sight, unwilling to become yet one more of the "Femin-U Babes" that seem all too common on the talk show circuit right now.

This is only half the story, the half everyone knows about.

Dharma Corp was within six months of declaring bankruptcy at the release of Femin-U. They'd sunk all the money they had into the production of GK909. Femin-U was the closest they believed that they'd come to a workable, permanent gender alteration solution. They were pursuing human trials of GK909, but the FDA declared their initial animal testing to be too unsafe. Here is the reason: GK909 was designed for humans, and only really works for humans.

As of the time of this printing, they still haven't come clean about how many bottles of GK909 were shipped with Femin-U labels. They haven't even explained how GK909 was shipped at all. They're recall of the product on Saturday night was too late, however, as none of the product remained to be recalled. The fact that they recalled it before anyone was really aware there was a problem is telling about what likely happened in the company to cause this so called 'mistake.'

However, it did something even better than the publicity they needed. It proved that the GK909 serum worked in 100% of cases. The corpses that remained of the people who died where not only feminine looking, but were female down to their chromosomes. It also gave them what they needed to help make the application of the compound safe.

It would take two doses of two different compounds over a three week period and people would be safely, permanently changed. The first was a nanotech potion that helped the user to gain weight without really even trying. The second was GK909. Being a cheaper alternative to the traditional Gender Reassignment Surgery would have ensured its place in medical practice by itself. The fact that it was a better solution only went to seal the deal.

As of this printing almost nine hundred people have used the combination of potions to completely change from male to female with more than five thousand on waiting lists for more of the potions to be made and delivered to the medical professionals who are allowed to administer them.

It is a bright future for Suzerain and Dharma, one that will be carried on the shoulders of GK909.

The difference between your future and the many ‘might have beens’ is often a razor’s edge difference that only in retrospect means a monumental change in outcome. My life had been planned out for me from birth. I went to the best schools, dated the best girls, and made all the proper appearances at all the right charity events.

I spent my hours away from school either in study for my courses or doing community service of one sort or another. Well, saying it was of one sort or another isn’t an accurate statement.

When I sat down to record my story, to tell people the person who died, I never intended to tell about this part of my story. It’s a common thread, though, between the person I expected to be and the one that I became.

Take a moment in time. When this moment was isn’t important. It’s summer, in the morning. I’m getting out of my white Porsche. Yes, the teen with brown hair and green eyes is me. He’s handsome in a vague sort of way. His khaki slacks and button shirt fit his frame well. He has a healthy look to him that has nothing to do with high priced spas or the other activities of the rich and idle..

The Porsche and the outfit are incongruous with the surroundings. They would fit in well at a country club or a top flight hotel. He’s standing on a cracked sidewalk next to a road that’s more pothole than asphalt. There’s a grin on his face as he walks up to a plain metal door embedded in a graffiti covered wall. The smell of chlorine assaults us the moment the door opens and the sound of children splashing and shouting can be heard.

He enters the small staff change-room and switches out of his street clothing and into a bright red lifeguard tank top and swim trunks.

His whistle is the last thing he puts around his neck. I can, even now, remember the feelings that those simple clothes gave me. It made me feel empowered in a way that almost nothing else in my life has ever done.

He walks out of the locker room and onto the deck surrounding the pool. The noises that are coming from the pool would seem to be those of pre-teens, but the bodies are definitely teen aged. He walks up to the person on duty and waves as he arrives.

“Hey, June, how are the kids today?”

“They’re impatient for their favorite teacher.”

“Andrew!” says a girl who looks sixteen but acts like she’s five. She runs over and hugs Andrew getting him soaking wet and he just smiles and laughs.

“Hello, Lisa. Miss me?”

“I missed you lots, Andrew. I haven’t seen you in years.”

He was here last week, but that doesn’t matter to Andrew and he doesn’t correct her.

“Are we going to learn how to swim, or what?”

“Swim!” shouts one of the boys from the pool.

Andrew hops into the pool and spends the next couple of hours teaching the teens how to swim. He’s exhausted when he finishes, but he’s happier than any other part of his life makes him.

“You’re really good with these kids, Andrew. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I’m going to miss you all next year.”

“You’re parent’s still determined to ship you off to…”

This moment, this place and time, shaped who I was, shaped who I became.

When I left for college, going to the place my parents had dreamed for me, I was leaving the only real family I’d ever known. Those kids, children in bodies that outgrew their minds, were more of a family for me than the one I left behind.

I packed the few things I would be bringing with me into my first real moment of freedom into my car. A few changes of clothing, my laptop, tablet and cell phone, and the bits of paper or plastic that identified me as male, 18, and a citizen of the United States with the legal right to work or gain an education.

The sun was setting behind the trees on the campus when I pulled up in front of the dorms. It makes an interesting tableau, but I’m more interested in finding my room and beginning to settle in. Everything I’m bringing with me fits within a single bag. My parents were paying me to be here, so I could afford to buy a whole new wardrobe, new furniture, and so on. I just needed to decide who I am before I began buying anything.

I knew who my parents wanted me to be. Now I had to decide who I wanted to be.

The halls were deserted. There were the sounds of life coming from behind many of the doors, but with it being two weeks before the beginning of classes the people here were either pushing through and taking summer term classes, or they simply had nowhere else to go.

The door to my room was locked and there was no answer to my polite knock. I unlocked the door and entered. I was assaulted by the smell of stale air and dust kicked up by the movement of the door. There was only a single bed in the room, which I considered a little weird until I realized that there was only a single desk in the room as well.

“Oh, are you the new RA?” a voice said from behind me, startling me out of my reverie.

“Hm what?”

“The new RA. This is the RA’s room. We haven’t had one this summer and I was just wondering if you were it…”

“Is this a co-ed dorm?” The girl standing behind me was pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way. She was wearing men’s jeans, but a very tight ladies tee.

“What? Oh, this. No, I’m a guy.”

My jaw dropped and I just stared at her. “You’re a guy?”

“Yeah, I just like dressing up.”

“Are you gay?”

“What about being a cross-dresser would make you think I was gay?”

“You’re dressed as a girl.”

“I do it for the attention. It’s kind of nice when people notice you. I saw you looking at my chest.”

My face heated, but I wasn’t even tempted to look down at her blatant mention of her breasts. “Of course I looked, because that’s what you do with a pretty girl. You don’t stare, however,” I said with a nice smile. “Are you really a guy?”

“Yeah,” he said in a deep tenor voice that was at odds with the way that he looked.

“Too bad,” I replied beginning to grin, “because you’re really cute.” It was her turn to blush and I just laughed.

After she joined me I answered her original question, “I’m not the Resident Advisor, or at least not as far as I’m aware. I wouldn’t think I would be one, considering I’m a freshman this year.”

“Mr. Collins, so glad to see you here already. I’d hoped to be able to air out the room before you arrived. You made excellent time I see,” an out of breath voice said from down the hall.

I turned to see an overweight man in his fifties rushing down the hall. He was beaming at me as he rushed over, and he looked to have been running as he was completely drenched in sweat. I couldn’t even hold it against him as he was just such a jolly person.

“I’m Mr. Alderman, I know, an apropo name for a man in my position. I manage student housing. When we heard about your work with Forever Swim, we thought you would be perfect for this position.”

“I was just a part time swim instructor.”

“And your coworkers and supervisor all can’t stop talking about you,” Mr. Alderman replied, “You’re a special young man, Mr. Collins.”

“Lee, please. Just call me Lee.”

“Ok, Lee...Jared? You’re not hassling Mr. Collins are you?”

“Who? Him? It so happens he asked me out on a date.”

“Are you gay?” Mr. Alderman said, giving me a look that gave special emphasis to the word. For once he wasn’t smiling.

“I didn’t ask her for casual sex, Mr. Alderman. As long as she looks and acts like a proper young lady I would have no problem being seen in public with her.”

“But he’s…”

I stood up to my full six foot height, towering a good four inches over the ball of grease, “Mr. Alderman, as long as she looks like a woman, you will be good enough to refer to her as such.” There was steel in my gaze. One thing I’d learned from my time teaching those kids to swim was that it wasn’t right to belittle anyone, for any reason. this young woman maintained that she was simply a cross-dresser, and until she told me differently then that is what I’d assume she was. No matter what she believed, though, I would treat her as a woman when she looked like one, and like a man otherwise.

He swallowed and then tried to get his smile back, “your parents informed me that you would only be staying long enough to pledge to Phi Beta Kappa, and I figured that you’d be able to be the RA here until then.”

“Why doesn’t anyone want to be the RA here?”

“Haven’t you heard, Lee? We’re the freaks and geeks down here in F hall. The people no one wants in ‘their’ upstanding dorms are all banished here,” the girl said with a little smirk.

“So it is a co-ed dorm.” I said, again smiling at the girl. She began blushing again.

“Yes, but not on this floor. The bottom half of the building is for the guys and accessed with the south stairwell and the top half is the girls accessed through the north stairwell.”

I turned back toward Mr. Alderman and gave him a smile, “so, you figured that since I worked with ‘special needs’ kids that I’d be fine working with your...Freaks Hall?”

He turned a little green at my tone. I didn’t care for his attitude so I guess we were even.

“I don’t much like being considered ‘special needs,’” the girl murmured from beside me.

“See, she doesn’t like you treating her this way. I’ll be the boy’s RA if only to bring a little humanity in here.”

“Until you pledge for ΦΒΚ?”

“Until then,” I say with something that could pass for a smile if you were being charitable.

“Good, I’ll leave you to it then,” and with that, Mr. Alderman waddled stately away.

“So, do have any dressier clothes than these?” I said as I turned back to the girl.

“Why?”

“For our date? I plan on hunting out some of the choicer spots here around campus and it will require something a little more than jeans an a tee shirt, even if you do look very good in that tee shirt.”

Her blush belied her following statement, “I’m not really into guys. I told you that.”

“Neither am I, thank goodness,” I replied with a gentle smile. “I know, we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Leonard Andrew Collins the Third. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” I said offering my hand.

“You’re…”

“Yes, I am,” I said with another winning smile. “And you are?”

“Oh, Jared Kowalski.”

I just arched my eyebrow at her and she blushed again. She was obviously a little flustered and I found it really attractive.

“Fleur D’Alise”

I snorted at this. “You’re name is Fleur de Lis?” I said pronouncing it in the french manner. They drop final ‘s’es all over the place.

She laughed at that. “I didn’t even realize I’d done that. I need to change my name.”

“Don’t” I said with another of my patented smiles, “I like it, Fleur. So, meet back here at...8? That will give me 2 hours to scrounge something up myself.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a pretty girl and I like spending time with pretty girls.”

“I’m not a girl,” Jared said. He changed his posture and dropped his voice into his normal register.

“When you dress and act like one? You are. If you act like a guy in a dress, then no, you’re not. Fleur, all you have to do is say ‘no’ if you really don’t want to go out with me.”

“I’ve already said no,” she said as her posture and voice went back to girl-mode.

“Nope, you haven’t. You’ve given me excuses and reasons why we shouldn’t date. You haven’t once actually said ‘no.’”

“No...you’re right. I haven’t...wait date as in tonight…”

“As in as long as you will put up with me.”

“You’re not gay,” she said, her mouth hanging open a bit

“And right now you’re not a guy,” I ignored the fact that she didn’t include herself in that statement this time.

She turns to rush off down the hall and I called after her, “you never gave me an answer.”

“Yes, ok? Yes, I’ll date you.”

Two hours was just enough time for me to visit the tailor that my dad provided me an introduction to. He was professional and while I didn’t get a custom made suit to order for the evening, at least I left in something that fit well and I looked good in.

The custom suit would be ready in two weeks time.

My room was still a bit musty so I opened the windows and got out a couple of rags from my bag to begin dusting down the surfaces. I’d just finished and sat down in the hard wooden chair in front of my desk when Fleur knocked on my open door.

“You know,” she said, playing with a curl of hair that hung down the side of her face, “if we’re going to be dating you might as well relax the whole segregation by floors thing.”

“Nope, not going to happen,” I said with a smile. and stood up. She was wearing a blue satin dress that bared her shoulders and back. The cut took it out of the prom-dress space, but she still looked like a princess in it.

“What did your room-mate think of you going on a date?”

“Didn’t tell him. I stopped by the third floor and a couple of girls I know there helped me out. This is Gabby’s dress actually.”

“Well, you’ll have to thank Gabby for me later then, because you’re beautiful.” She blushed and I offered my arm to escort her out to my car. After helping her into the passenger seat I got and and started the engine.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I like dating nice girls. That and the fact that I’m not looking for a physical relationship right now with anyone. I figure that you’re the perfect one to date. You’re not going to expect it to progress any farther than just dating, and neither am I.”

“What happened to treating me like a girl while I look like one?”

We came to a stop at a red light and I looked intently over at her, “Are you telling me that you’d have sex with me, right here, right now if I asked you to?”

“No,” she said and blushed bright enough that it was visible in the dim light.

“Then why are you upset?”

“Because I want to feel desirable, and you’re telling me you’re dating me because I’m not.”

“Fleur, the only thing keeping me from actually...ok, that’s a misleading statement. Jared knows how it is: Guys have a tendency to think about sex...a lot. I’m sure girls do as well, but guys get the rep for doing it all the time. That dress makes me think about sex. It makes me wonder what you’d look like wearing nothing but a smile as the moonlight plays across your skin. You are desirable.”

“Oh,” she says softly and then giggles to herself, “sorry. Are you sure you’re hetero?”

“Reasonably.”

“Only reasonably sure?”

I laughed and just focused on my driving for a bit. I could tell she was watching me, which made me feel...something I wasn’t prepared to explore. My GPS told me I’d reached my destination so I pulled into the parking lot for a reasonably upscale restaurant.

“Tell me something,” I said as I turned off the car. “Why do you do this? Why do you dress up?”

“For the attention.”

“That can’t be all of it.”

“I like messing with people’s minds. I love to see how they react when they find out I’m really a guy, and have been all along.”

“Have you ever kissed a guy?”

“Yeah, a couple of times. Never really got into it though. It never felt really right.”

“I can see that.”

“I don’t think you can. It’s not about it being a guy or a girl I’m kissing. I’ve kissed girls who never did it for me either.”

“While dressed?”

“Once or twice,” she said with a smile.

“And?”

“It was the same either way for me. If I like the person, then it is a wonderful experience. If I don’t really like the person, then it is sort of blah.”

“That sounds more like girl than guy to me…”

“Tell me about it. No, I’m a guy, I know I am. This isn’t just some sort of put on where I’m trying to convince myself. If I wanted to transition, my parents would support it. They even let me dress at home for years. I went to therapists and such and finally came to the conclusion that I love to wear women’s clothing. A bit of it is fetishistic.”

“Meaning you get off doing it?”

“Sure...I love being desired, and being desired really get’s me hot.” She realizes what she’s said and she blushes a deep red. I laughed at her in a jovial manner and eventually she joined in.

“yes, I admit, that you’re making me horny right now.”

“Well, I’ll make sure you have ample time to take care of that before classes tomorrow.”

“I appreciate it,” she replied with a throaty growl.

I took that as my cue to get out of the car and walk around to her door. I offered my hand and helped her to stand. The night was a little chilly so I offered her my jacket as we walked across the lot. We were seated quickly, it being mid week, and we talked about a lot of inconsequential things until about one in the morning when they kicked us out.

I dropped her off at her door and it was almost physically difficult to pull myself away without giving her a kiss. I settled for a hug and then retreated to the safety of my room.

I’d never actually gotten her phone number so I had no way to call her, and she didn’t make an appearance at my door the rest of the week, so I did the best I could to put her out of my mind. When monday rolled around and I still hadn’t seen her I stopped by her room to see if she was alright.

A guy who looked vaguely familiar answered the door.

“Lee?” he said in a voice I recognized from even the few times that I’d heard it.

“Is your roommate in?”

“Not currently, why?”

“I wanted to know you were alright. Sorry, I shouldn’t have done this.”

“You were looking for Fleur, weren’t you.”

“Yes, I was, because I can’t stop thinking about her, I mean you. you’re in my mind all the time, and I’m afraid of what it might mean.”

He laughs in a sort of relieved way and I just look at him questioningly.

“Dude, I know exactly what you mean. Only for me, every time I’ve seen you around the dorm it makes me want to go get changed and seek you out.”

“This is weird.”

“Why?” he asked warily.

“Because I can see some of her in you, but with how you look now, it’s more of a bro thing going on. We share a lot of interests.”

“Just cause both of us like obscure anime titles that are only available with subtitles doesn’t mean we have anything in common.”

I laugh and he joins right in. There’s a difference to the way he laughs. It’s more open, more free, while he’s a guy. There always seemed to be a front to him, a point beyond which he wouldn’t go while he was being a girl and the realization broke my heart. He really was a guy. Fleur wasn’t real and no matter how much I wanted her to be, it would always just be a front, a costume.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I’ve fallen in love with a fantasy,”I say softly.

“So have I,” he said in his Fleur voice and I hug him.

“We can still hang out, right?” was the first thing out of my mouth when I let him go.

“Possibly, but I need some space to get my head on straight, Lee.”

“I get that,” I replied softly.

The next week went quickly. Being an RA is a lot like teaching those kids how to swim, and I laughed every time that I thought that. Mr. Alderman knew what he was doing when he put me in here. Even though I was one of the younger kids in the hall, the very fact that I was living in the RAs room meant that I had authority over them.

Mostly it was dealing with petty disputes and keeping the guys and girls segregated after 10 pm. Once in a while I was their confessor or their therapist, but thankfully those moments were few and far between.

I don’t know about other schools, but the first week of classes was greek week. After visiting all of my monday classes and picking up the syllabuses for each of them I made my way over to the Phi Beta Kappa house. There were a number of boys lined up outside while some of the older brothers yelled at them as if this were boot camp and not some hazing ritual.

Well, almost like boot camp.

“Those pants are most definitely not Ralph Lauren. How do you expect to fit in here if you can’t even find a decent knock off?”

I had to laugh as I walked up to the house.

“Something funny?” The guy who was screaming at the pledges asked?

“I seem to remember you not knowing the difference yourself not three years ago, Remy.”

“Do I know you?”

“Leonard Andrew Collins the Third”

“Trip?”

“Mostly go by Lee nowadays, but yeah.”

“You pledging?”

“Of course I am. My father would have a buffalo if he thought I was even considering not pledging his fraternity.”

The other boy laughed and then his face got serious. “Then get your pretty princess behind in line, Trip, before I have to come over there and frog walk you into position.”

I leap into action and put myself at the end of the line.

“Princesses, this here is Trip. He’s a legacy. Six generations of Collins’ have been members of Phi Beta Kappa. He doesn’t get special treatment, so you shouldn’t expect it either.”

I stifled a laugh and looked suitably cowed while Remy continued to rail at us about how poorly turned out we were. Jared appeared out of nowhere after about fifty minutes and began making faces at me while we were standing at attention. We weren’t supposed to move a muscle while the frat members yelled at us, dumped stuff on us, and generally made asses of themselves. There was a crowd of people who were taunting all of us as well. One of my ‘tormentors’ noticed Jared in the crowd and called out, “If it isn’t the Queen Bee herself. Why don’t you come on over and give these guys a kiss?”

Two of the other guys grabbed onto his arms and began dragging him over. I stepped out of line and walked over to them. “Let him go,” I said quietly.

The boy on the left turned with a smile on his face which leapt for cover the moment he realized how close I was, and how much bigger than him I was. The resulting expression was somewhere between shock and abject horror.

“Get back in line, Trip. Let them take care of the fairy.”

“Remy, Jared here isn’t one of your pledges. You can do whatever you want to us because we signed the waiver. Jared on the other hand hasn’t signed your waiver. Unless you want the school shutting down the house, then I suggest you back off.”

“Who’s going to tell them what we did? Even if the little queer rats us out who will listen to it over us?”

“They’ll believe me over you, considering that I’m an RA and what are you? A random frat member?”

He began to laugh a bit but then he realized I wasn’t joking. They released Jared and he opened his mouth to say something and then he saw my expression and shut it with a snap.

I walked over and took my place back in line as if nothing had happened. They started to focus on me, but I let it all roll off. This was only temporary after all and nothing they could say could compare to anything I’d had to endure at home.

It was a sore, tired, and smelly version of myself that finally dragged into my room at two in the morning. I didn’t realize anyone was in my room with me until I smelled her perfume.

“Hi,” Fleur said shyly.

“Fleur? What are you doing in my room?”

“I waited for you. What you did for me today...no one has ever done that for me before. People are willing to accept me for one side or the other. They make assumptions about me. I dressed like this for you, as a thank you.”

“Fleur, thank you, I appreciate it, but I’m too tired not to do something I regret.”

“Then let me properly thank you,” she said and she was in my arms and kissing me before I could say another word. My body reacted to the feel of her and the smell of her and my pants were painfully tight almost instantly. My breathing raced along with my heart and I could feel her breath push past our lips almost as forcefully.”

“Wow,” she said when she broke the kiss.

“Yeah,” I said a little dazed.

“You really stink.”

I laughed and swatted her on the behind as she slipped out of range. I wasn’t as tired anymore so I got my shower stuff together so I could wash the funk off my body.

School was simple enough for me, it being early days yet, and the hazing was nothing more than the first day. The numbers of pledges slowly dwindled until we got to the final induction ceremony on Friday. We were blindfolded and marched all over campus, or so it felt, in our underwear. We could hear the other students laughing at us, but each of us knew that this was almost over. We were about to be part of something bigger than ourselves, even if I really wanted nothing to do with it all.

Having something to throw back in your father’s face, to prove you were living the life he wanted was worth the humiliation for me by itself.

“Before we continue, I need to know if any of you have bad reactions to nanotech?”

There were murmurs of no from the other pledges and I just shook my head. The ripped the blindfolds from our eyes and holographic torch light almost blinded me for a moment or two as my eyes became adjusted to the light. There was quite a crowd around us and a row of bottles without labels on them.

“Trip, step forward!”

I stepped forward and Remy tossed a tee shirt at me. It was in a ladies cut.

“You’re going to want this in a moment.” I pulled the shirt on. It was tight, as if it was a size or two too small. They handed me a potion that seemed to be purple in the dim light of torches which meant it was likely blue.

“So you can join the other half,” Remy said only to be joined a moment later by a chant of “Drink it!” from the crowd.

I downed the potion and walked back into line. One by one the other pledges took their potions. I began to feel a little weak in the knees and my chest felt tight. I said something like, “I don’t feel right,” and then the ground leapt up to hit me. Pain like I’d never known before pounded at me from all directions and I began to scream. People began running around and some of them pulled out cell phones. My heartbeat began to slow even as I began to feel way too warm.

“Lee?” I heard a familiar voice say and I was picked up off the ground as if I weighed nothing.

“Hey, Fleur,” I said looking up into her beautiful face. My heartbeat slowed even more and I could feel it pounding at the inside of my chest. “We have to stop meeting like this.” or at least that’s what I wanted to say, but the world was going black, tunneling in on her eyes and I’m not sure she heard was I said.

The last thing I heard before everything faded into the darkness was, “Don’t leave me. I love you.”

It’s impossible to know what’s in someone else's mind. You can know their actions, their words or their tears but you can’t ever truly know their thoughts.

This was never more evident to me than when I met Lee. Life for me is a balance between what I want and what I need. Some days, everything is fine and I make it through without ever once feeling the pull of women’s clothing on my psyche. Some days are harder than others.

There are a lot of people in the college who believe I’m gay. It would be fine with me, if I were actually gay, but I’m not. It’s possible I’m bisexual, but that’s not even the issue here.

And that’s not even accurate. My sexuality isn’t defined by what a person looks like, but more by who a person is. I’m attracted to people who treat other people well, who are interested in what the person across from the table with them more than just in their appearance or what they can do for them.

That sentence is so convoluted, but I hope you get what I mean...and it’s getting ahead of the story.

My girlfriend was the reason that I was feeling a bit down. She was also the reason I wasn’t dressing as much anymore. She was uncomfortable walking around town with me in drag, and I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. We still went out shopping together, but even that had been slowing to a trickle in the past couple of weeks.

“Jared, we need to talk,” she said on wednesday morning the last week of the summer term. I’d just finished my last exam so I had some free time.

“Sure, Aimes. What’s up?”

“Not here, I’d don’t want to talk about this here,” she said looking around at the other people in the Commons, our student center.

We walked back to my room in silence. It wasn’t the comfortable pleasant silence that exists between people who know and trust each other and it began to agitate me. “What’s going on, Aimes?”

“Wait,” she said and then didn’t say another word until we got back to my room.

“Before you say anything, Jared, I need to have my piece. You’ve had your chance in the past to fulfil what I’ve been asking for. You could just man up and stop being such a...pansy.”

“Oh, really? A pansy? Now you, of all people, are accusing me of being gay?”

She colored slightly but that didn’t knock her off track. “Jared, you are a good friend, and a good guy, but you’re not really the one for me.”

“That’s not what you said over spring break.” I didn’t mention it’s also not what she was saying when she was screaming my name in our hotel room, unless she was faking it, which was always a possibility.

She really blushed at the mention of our time spent together over spring break, something I felt no joy over. The very fact I brought it up was petty and beneath me. “Aimes, if you’ve found someone else, then just say it. Don’t try to hide behind someone else’s arguments. I assume that you discussed all this with your new boyfriend?”

“Well…”

“Who is it?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Because I want to know who was ‘man enough’ to steal your heart.”

“Remy,” she said quietly. For a moment I could see nothing but red as I struggled to keep my emotions under control.

“Remy? You’re dating that oversexed, low EQ neanderthal? The one who you said made you feel ‘creeped out’ everytime he looked at you?”

“He’s not that bad.”

“You just think he’s great in the sack.”

“Oh, is that from experience,” she said in a snarl.

“What?” I said, growing cold.

“Oh, he told me how you…”

“Get out.”

“Did I strike a nerve?” she taunted me.

Anything I’d thought I felt for her before faded in a flash as she continued to smirk at me. “Get out of my room, Aimes, and never show your face here again. I don’t care what he told you happened. I don’t care whether or not his buddies backed him up. They were there after all when he raped me. All of them took turns. The only reason he’s still here in school is because I didn’t want to deal with it, the accusations going into the media, his high priced lawyers dragging me through the mud. None of it.”

“Jared,” she began, reaching a hand toward me.

“Get the hell out of my room,” I bellowed at her. I kept it all together for a moment or two. I watched her face crumple and she turned and fled my room in tears. As soon as the door to my room closed I sank against it, my back to the wood, and sobbed.

I stripped off my shirt and attached the girls to my chest. There was some stubble there so the seal wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be good enough. I just needed the feel of the weight to ground me. I slipped into one of my laciest pink bras and pulled on a gamer ladies tee.

I slipped into the bathroom with my grooming kit and spent the time to make myself up perfectly. This wasn’t over the top drag makeup. It was just light and designed to change my androgynous features over the line into the feminine. My beard hair had been getting darker of late so it did take a touch more concealer than it had in the past, but only a touch. The concealer helped to even out my skin tone, anyway.

The door to the RAs room was open and someone was moving around inside. I said something about him being the new RA and he turned around. “I’m not gay,” I said aloud in way of defense at some point in the conversation, but mostly that was to assure myself that was the case.

I’d never had this sort of physical reaction to anyone before and I felt myself growing immediately hard at the way he took charge of the conversation. Painfully so.

I was thankful that he didn’t look away from my face during that conversation because my arousal would have been evident if he’d even thought to look in that direction. The idea that he was treating me as a woman, and treating me as a woman wants to be treated was putting unclean thoughts in my mind.

“Too bad,” he said with this infuriating little grin. A grin I wanted to wipe off his face with a heart stopping kiss. He continued even before my thoughts finished their course, “because I think you’re really cute.”

My mind short circuited and I felt a goofy grin erupt on my face. My heart thundered in my chest and my blood rushed in my ears. Sure, I might have reacted to him primally by his looks, but he was a really great guy that was just keeping me in this moment, this razor’s edge between lust and love and I never wanted him to stop.

He was laughing in an infectious manner and I began laughing with him. His eyes twinkled. I’d always thought that was just an expression before I met him, but he made that expression true. There was this impish light that illuminated his entire face from the inside and shone out through his eyes. It was a light that told you that he was in on the joke, whatever the joke was, and you just wanted to go along with him so he thought you were in on it all as well.

It wasn’t cruel, this light, just easy going. Light hearted.

“I’m a freshman this year,” he said and my heart stopped. He was almost two years younger than me. This wasn’t fair, in any way. He was entirely too young for me I began to think before I realized that I wasn’t a girl. Sure, it might be weird dating a younger guy if I were really a girl, but in this situation…

It only occured to me in that moment that I wasn’t thinking of myself as guy or girl in that moment. More specifically I’d been just assuming I was yin to his yang. I was his opposite and I was okay with that. Whatever he needed me to be, I would be.

“Mr. Collins…” Mr. Alderman said from the end of the hall and began speaking to, I assumed, the boy standing next to me. He was pulling his normal wheedling trick of convincing people to do something they didn’t want to do. Making it all seem like your idea at the time and never once letting you pick any other choice.

Sure, his smile seemed genuine, at least until you really got to know him. Mr. Alderman was a bigoted little prick.

“When we heard about your work at Forever Swim …”

My opinion of Mr. Collins rose a notch when I heard that he’d worked with Forever Swim. They were an organization that I donated money to every year. Seeing his toned lean body it made me wish I’d donated time to as well.

“Lee,” Mr. Alderman began repeating Lee’s name and then seemed to see me for the first time. “Jared? You’re not hassling Mr. Collins are you?”

“Who? Him? It so happens he asked me out on a date,” I said with a smug smile. Mr. Alderman wasn’t going to get my goat this time. If at all possible, I was about to get his.

“Are you gay?” Mr. Alderman said rounding on Lee. The claws finally come out, I thought as I saw that. I could help but smile in anticipation. His response shocked me to the core.

“I didn’t ask her for casual sex, Mr. Alderman. As long as she looks and acts like a proper young lady I would have no problem being seen in public with her.”

Every time I turned around Lee was showing me a new facet of his personality, and the more I saw the more I realized I was lost.

“Mr. Alderman, as long as she looks like a woman, you will be good enough to refer to her as such.”

Lee was standing up for me, and everyone else in the hall and he did it without needing to. He was normal, and everyone considered him normal, and yet he was standing there, staring down someone in a position of authority for me.

His next statement almost destroyed my attitude toward him, “so, you figured that since I worked with ‘special needs’ kids that I’d be fine working with your...Freaks Hall?”

“I don’t much like being considered ‘special needs,’” I hissed at him. How could he be so awesome one moment, and then begin pitching in with Mr. Alderman and the idiots like him in this school. I was all ready to walk out on both of them right there and then, but something about Lee’s posture made me want to stay.

“See, she doesn’t like you treating her this way. I’ll be the boy’s RA if only to bring a little humanity in here.”

“Until you pledge for Phi Beta Kappa?”

Everything sort of went away as I became cold at the very mention of that fraternity. All of the happy feelings went away. He began to push me about our date again and I was angry at him, at Mr. Alderman and most especially at myself. He was just another entitled prick in a long line of entitled pricks here on their parent’s dime, putting it to the rest of us because they could.

I agreed to his date, hoping to be able to embarrass him during the course of the evening. He’d given me two hours to get ready and I planned to make the most of it. I shaved my chest and legs, and covered myself in scented lotion. My closet betrayed me. Most of the clothing I had left was for hanging around campus, not for giving assholes a taste of what they were missing and would never even get the chance to have.

I slipped on a pair of shorts and a tank top and went around to the entrance to the north stairs. I’d wondered, often, who’s bright idea it was to put the girls on the third and fourth floors of the hall, but right now it just gave me some more time to let go of the anger that was boiling just under the surface.

“Gabby!” I said pounding on the door to her room. She opened the door looking bleary eyed and her hair was sticking out in all directions.

“What is it, Fleur? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Yeah, it’s seven pm.”

“Right, too early, come back in an hour.”

“An hour will be too late,” I whined at her and she really looked at me for the first time.

“Wait...who has you so pissed off right now?”

“The new RA.”

“And why does the new RA have your panties in a twist?”

“He asked me on a date,” I replied quietly.

“So, tell him no,” she said and began to close the door.

“Gabby!” I whine again and stomp my foot. “I can’t do that. I already said yes and I have to be ready in an hour.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s an asshole,” I said with all the venom that I could inject into four words.

“Laura, get up. Fleur has a date.”

Laura crawled out from the pile of blankets that graced the only bed in the room. It was just one more example of the idiocy that was the administration of the school. Segregate the boys and the girls, but it was fine to allow lesbians to room together.

If I wasn’t still so pissed off about Lee’s behavior it might have gotten me to laughing.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Laura said as she stood and stretched. She was completely naked and wasn’t moving very quickly to the clothing strewn across the floor.

“He’s the new RA,” I said through clenched teeth. Laura knew I wasn’t attracted to her, but that never stopped her from flirting with me. She was entirely too shallow for me to be interested in that way. It didn’t mean I didn’t like the girl, I just couldn’t see myself dating her.

“Why am I doing this,” I said as soon as the thought struck me. “Why didn’t I just tell him ‘no.’”

“Cause you’re hot for him, duh,” Gabby said with a smile and I smiled back at her. We’d tried to date once or twice. I was just too much man for her. She liked me well enough, but she had a lot of body image hangups where her partners were concerned.

“No, I hate him. He’s entitled and stuck up and pledging Phi Beta Kappa and…”

“Wait, and you’re still dating him?” Laura said in a hoarse whisper.

“What is wrong with me?”

“Is he that hot?” Gaby asks me softly.

“He’s nice, at least I think so, but there are moments where I just think that he’s like everyone else in his tax bracket.”

“So, he’s rich?”

“I guess. He didn’t bring any bags with him and talked about visiting a tailor in town for his clothing for tonight.”

“What a snob,” Laura said with a sneer.

“No, he’s not like that.”

“I thought you said he was a jerk.”

“He is...but he did work for Forever Swim.”

The two of them blinked at the apparent non-sequitur and I explained about the charity...and the entire conversation downstairs

“So, he does charity work with kids with disabilities, he didn’t oogle your breasts, even before he knew they were fake,” Laura said and I glared at her.

“Well, they are still fake, aren’t they?”

“They’re still enhancement, if that’s what you mean. I see you still use padded bras, Ms. B-cup.”

She glared at me and Gabby laughed at the two of us. “Will you to cut it out? Laura, get some clothing on. Fleur still isn’t interested.”

Laura huffed and began getting dressed.

“Fleur, if you are this pissed at him, why are you going on a date with him.”

“It’s because she doesn’t want to be pissed at him.”

Gabby and I turned and looked at a now dressed Laura. “What?” I said.

“It’s simple, really. You are really attracted to this guy, but your male self, who still insists he isn’t gay, is trying desperately to find a reason to push away, while your female self is looking for any reason to leap in with both feet and let him fuck you until your eyes roll back in your head and you are completely sated.”

“Laura,” Gabby said a little shocked with her language.

“No, I can’t, Laura. I want to hate him because I can’t let that happen ever again.”

“Sweetie,” Gabby says as she comes over and puts her arms around me.

“I want him, Gabby, and that terrifies me. I want him in a way I’ve never wanted anyone else, ever in my life. I can feel that he completes me.”

“Sexually?” Laura said with a smirk.

“My soul,” I said reverently. “My heart calls out to him, and I can hear his heart respond. For the first time ever I really wish I’d been born a girl.”

The other two just stare at me and I smile half heartedly at them, “you know what I mean. You know my entire story.”

“Why didn’t you become a girl before this? That’s something I never understood,” Laura says to me. For the first time I’m seeing a depth to her that I never knew was there because her expressing isn’t taunting or teasing. She’s looking at me like a friend and she seems to really want to know.

“I guess because I still think of myself as male, even when I’m dressed to the nines in the slinkiest, sexiest skirt I can find. The idea that some guy is seeing a girl and desiring her and knowing the girl is really me turns me on.”

“You fantasize about showing your schlong to some guy during sex.”

“Yes,” I said, blushing bright red.

Laura laughs, but not unkindly and I smile back.

Gabby gets a thoughtful look on her face and then begins rummaging through her closet. She picks out a deep blue gown and holds it up against me. It’s backless, but it goes all the way to the neck in a collar arrangement that will leave my shoulders bare as well. I’m straining against my panties at the very thought of wearing that dress.

“I could never…”

“You can, and you will, Fleur. Wear this dress.”

“But I don’t want him to want me,” I say, but my heart is telling me a different story. It’s pounding against my chest and willing me to take a step forward and touch the dress. My hand begins to move almost of it’s own accord. They laugh and I feel my cheeks heat.

“Fine, I’ll wear the dress.”

I slip out of the shorts and top and then I take off my bra. I slipped into the dress and situated my breasts in the build in cups in the front of it. The air passing across my back was sexy in a way that nothing else I’d ever worn had ever been. It was uncomfortable to sit on my trapped manhood with how aroused I was, but sat I did and let Gabby and Laura work.

I was no slouch at making myself look good in drag. For me, it wasn’t a matter of looking glamorous, even though I’d done that a time or two. It was about making myself look authentic, and most of my talent was focused in being normal. Because of this, I would go as light as possible on my makeup, wearing the bare minimum of concealer. I’d considered getting a nano-hair removal treatment to completely kill all the follicles on my face, but that always seemed a betrayal of my manhood before.

Sitting there, watching as Gabby and Laura transformed me from a plain jane into a vision of beauty, I decided something. It didn’t matter whether or not I could grow a beard. I was a man regardless of any outward trappings, and I was a man regardless of whether or not I was going out on a date with Lee.

They’d piled my shoulder length hair up on top of my head with lots of pins and hairspray. A curl of hair on either side framed my face and softened the harder lines of my face. My makeup was dramatic without being over the top and I had that smoky eye look that I’d envied without ever being able to reproduce.

I gathered up my purse and made my way downstairs. Lee’s door was open when I arrived. I took a moment or two to stand there and just admire his back and shoulders. The jacket he was wearing fit his frame perfectly and made me want to run my fingers across the material and feel the muscles underneath.

A simple knock on the open door got his attention and he turned to look at me. His initial reaction was all I could have ever hoped for. It seemed he was speechless and after a moment or two I said, “You know if we’re going to be dating you might as well relax the whole segregation by floors thing.”

He laughed it off and we made our way to his car. It was implied that he was loaded. Him driving a Porsche really pounded the point home. That’s not even really accurate. It was more the fact that he drove a Porsche but he didn’t really care that he drove a Porsche. It was almost as if he were driving a Dodge or even a Toyota.

It made me even more angry, but not at him this time. It made me angry at myself. He was a good guy from everything that I saw, but I kept trying to cast him in the horrible light. Never before in my life have I ever really wanted to use the cliche of it being me and not him...and actually mean it.

He talked with me as we drove. He listened to my responses and I could feel myself responding to him as we continued. He made me feel special the entire time we were in the car. When we parked at the valet parking stand I sat there for a moment trying to decide how I was going to get out of the car without ruining my dress when my door opened and Lee was standing there with his hand offered to me.

My heart melted and I let him help me to my feet. As we walked he put his hand at the small of my back. The feel of his skin on my bare back ignited a fire within me and I could help but smile at the Maitre D’ as he walked us to our table. Once there Lee was again leaping to my aid. He helped me into my chair with a practiced ease and I settled myself in for the dreaded ‘first date chat.’

With everything else Lee had done right, I should have assumed he would know how to do this as well.

“So, where are you from,” I started the moment the Maitre D’ left.

“Do you really want to know that or are you trying for small talk?”

“Small talk,” I said with a grin.

“Well, then, try this one on for size. What motivates you? What get’s you out of bed every morning and dressing and going to class? Why are you taking summer classes when most of your classmates are just relaxing for three months?”

“That was three questions.”

“Beautiful and smart too,” he replied without ever really responding to my little quip. He just cocked his eyebrow and waited for me. It wasn’t an impatient sort of waiting, or even the inequality of an instructor waiting for a student. It was the strength of a deep patience. He knew I would eventually answer, and he was content to simply watching me as I waited.

I smiled and responded, “words. Words get me out of bed in the morning and torment my sleep. I love the way that words form thoughts and can be rearranged into different throughs just by changing their placement. They have a never ending array of combinations that can keep surprising you.”

“There are a finite number of words in the english language.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“If there are a finite number of words then there are a finite number of combinations.”

“But there isn’t any fixed length to a sentence.”

“Sure there is.”

I grin at him, enjoying the conversation a lot more than I thought I would, “I’ll bite,” I said showing my teeth as I said it, “how long does a sentence need to be?”

“Just long enough to finish it’s thought. No shorter and no longer. The most famous two word sentence in english literature proves that.”

I couldn’t even come up with a reply to that. I had no idea what he was talking about. My confusion must have been evident because he explained, “The bible, as translated in the King James edition has a two word verse, ‘Jesus wept.’ It has both subject and a reflexive verb. It is the smallest idea that can be expressed in english. It encompases everything that needed to be said.”

“Says the man who is taking an entire paragraph worth of sentences to define it.”

“Just because I’m not concise doesn’t mean that I can’t be.”

“Oh really?”

“I love you.”

“What?” I said as my heart pounded in my chest and I felt everything move away from me.

“That sentence. It’s something every one of us has likely said in the past. It is everything we need to say in that special moment.”

“I need a drink,” I said as I caught my breath.

“Wait, did you...I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean. Sorry. I like you, Fleur, but I don’t know you well enough to say that and mean it yet.”

For some reason I didn’t understand I was disappointed. I knew that he’d never meant to say that and mean it. The context of the conversation alone, not to mention our entire relationship to date, entirely precluded the possibility.

“I’d have liked it to be true.”

“Why?”

“Can you not see how great a guy you are?”

“Not really.”

“You helped me in and out of the car.”

“I didn’t want you to ruin your dress. It was just common courtesy.”

“So, you’re saying you wouldn’t have helped me if I were in jeans?”

He blushed and looked away from me and I laughed. “So, you would have helped me if I were in jeans.”

“It’s still common courtesy.”

“Considering how uncommon courtesy is right now, especially in my life, I appreciated it. Heck, it embarrasses me that you consider it so normal and I’ve never once done this for any of my dates.”

“You’ve never held the door for a girl?” he said a little shocked.

“No, not once. That changes tonight, though. It hadn’t occurred to me how difficult it could be to get in and out of a passenger seat without ruining your appearance.”

“Well, at least there is that. Something good has come of this date.”

The waiter appeared at this moment and asked for our order. “Would you mind ordering for me?” I asked him, sweetly, “I have no idea what half of this is.”

“Sure,” he said and ordered. He took charge of the moment and made it feel as if this was normal. That lacking knowledge of something wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. He even took the time to ask me what sorts of foods I liked before he made the decisions for us.

“So, are you an english major?”

“Never,” I said with vehemence.

“Then how does your love of language work into your schooling?”

“You asked me what got me out of bed every morning. You also asked me what motivated me, and that was something else entirely. You still want to hear that?”

“Of course. I want to get to know you better. There are two visions I have of you, and they just don’t fit together for me.”

“Oh, and what are those visions of yours?”

“There is boy you and girl you, of course.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but there is only me.”

“And you act like a girl when you’re dressed as a boy?”

“Act is the operative word. I may present myself differently, but inside, where it counts, I’m the same person.”

“Well, I like the person I’m getting to know,” he said as he looked deeply into my eyes. I had to turn away, and I blushed. What was wrong with me?. I wasn’t normally this girly, even while dressed, but at every turn he was bringing out the feminine in me, and I couldn’t truthfully say that I disliked it.

The food was amazing, and the conversation continued to be wonderful. At the end of the night I was fully ready to continue dating him. He dropped me off at my door and the only thing I could think of was what his lips would feel like pressed against me. I’ll admit to severed disappointment when all he did was hug me. He was gone before I could go in for the kiss myself.

“So, are you finally admitting you’re gay?” my roommate said the moment I slipped through the door.

Just like that the world came crashing down on me again and I was embarrassed to be in the clothing I was wearing. I felt naked under my roommates leering gaze and it pissed me off. I stripped myself naked and then peeled off my breast forms.

The only thing left of my date was my elaborate up-do. “See something you like?” I asked in my Jared voice and he turned green. He shook his head slightly at me.

“Then fuck off,” I said and gathered up a robe. I went and cleaned off my face and took down my hair, the entire time silent tears streamed down my face.

I got off campus the following morning. I’d completed all of my tests for the previous semester and I just wanted to get away from everything. Beyond just wanting to get away from my roommate I didn’t think I wanted to deal with Lee for the time being. I hiked trails and did a few free climbs. Sure, there are women who hike and climb, but the physical effort always seemed to ground me in my masculinity.

It’s nothing against those girls, but it is how it always felt to me, while I was doing it. If I’d ever done either of those things in drag then it wouldn’t have, I’m sure, but they were a part of my male life that had never overlapped with my female persona.

Monday morning everything seemed to be falling into place. My roommate had already left for the day when there was a knock at my door. I opened it to see the new RA standing there.

“Lee?” I said, frantically thinking. I was a mess, since I looked like a guy. Why in the world hadn’t I wanted to dress this morning. And there it was. I hadn’t want to dress this morning. I was having a fantasy relationship with this guy, but I wasn’t the girl he was looking for.

When he said, “I think I’ve fallen in love with a fantasy,” it was the only confirmation that I needed. I gave him an out by letting him feel that he wasn’t the only one lost in this relationship, but I wasn’t feeling it anymore. He was a really good guy and I wanted to feel that way for him, but I just didn’t.

We hugged awkwardly and he left me to my turmoil of emotions.

For the rest of the week I hung out with my friends and generally spent as much time outside the dorms as I possibly could.

I hate greek week. It is an opportunity for the least common denominator to multiply itself by hormones and alcohol. The problem was that I wasn’t above the insanity myself. My favorite thing to do during greek week was to go around to the different frat houses and taunt the pledges.

When I arrived at the Phi Beta Kappa house, though, Remy was the one tormenting the new pledges. I tried to hide in the crowd, but I couldn’t leave. Lee was a god standing amidst the mere mortals who were taunting him. While watching him I guess that I somehow let my guard down and ended up in the front of the crowd.

Remy’s goombas grabbed me and began pulling me toward him. My stomach roil at the look in his eyes. There was lust there in that look, and it reminded me of the night last fall when he’d raped me. My knees went weak and I tried futilely to pull away from the boys who were holding me.

Remy and Lee were talking quietly together and there was a gleam in Lee’s eyes as he did it. It took my addled mind way too long to realize that it was anger. “Let the fai..” Remy began, but when Lee glared at him again his mouth shut with an audible snap. “Let Jared go, boys, we have much more lively game here.”

My heart swelled in my chest and I wanted to say something to Lee, but his expression, his hate, was turned in my direction. He was just a good guy after all, but it was too late for that to mean anything for me. He’d protected me because that was what he did, but it didn’t mean anything to him. It didn’t mean anything because I hadn’t ever really let him know it should mean something.

As soon as I got back to the dorms I went into my room and got together a jean skirt and the same tee shirt I wore the first day I met him. I took my time in the bathroom, shaving carefully and applying my breast forms with equal care. Then I got dressed and applied my makeup.

It was close to six when I finally made it to his room. The door was slightly ajar so I pushed it open. There was no one there, however, and I was disappointed. I closed the door behind me and went and sat down on his bed. There were a few TV shows that I occasionally watch with new episodes on Hulu, so I watched them on my phone while I waited.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I knew I was being awakened by the sound of someone fumbling their key in the lock. I sat up and smoothed down my skirt with my legs under me. I quickly smoothed down my hair, wishing I had a mirror to check my makeup in.

He stumbled in, smelling of alcohol and rotten fruit. He blearily looked around the room, not seeing me sitting there on the bed in the darkness. Something must have caught his attention because suddenly he turned and really saw me.

“Hi,” I said quietly.

“Fleur? What are you doing in my room?” The shock was evident on his face, but even more evident was his smile. It lit up the room and made me feel warm and wanted.

“I waited for you. What you did for me today...no one has ever done that for me before. People are willing to accept me for one side or the other. They make assumptions about me. I dressed like this for you, as a thank you.” I said the words, but I wasn’t sure if I meant them. That’s not exactly true. I knew I was lying when I said those words. Not about my gratitude that he was treating me well, but about why I’d dressed tonight. I’d dressed tonight to let him know what he was missing, and from his reaction he already knew.

“Fleur, thank you, I appreciate it, but I’m too tired not to do something I regret.”

“Then let me properly thank you.” I have no idea what possessed me to kiss him, but it was like I was possessed, or like I wanted to be possessed. There was a depth to the way he was kissing me that had me reacting on a primal level, and made me want to give myself to him without any consideration of the consequences.

“Wow,” was all I could say when he finally broke the kiss. I looked up into his eyes and he smiled down and me and said, “yeah.”

“You really stink,” I said as I continued to look up into his eyes and smiled at him. We laughed and I left him to take care of his hygiene issues.

I didn’t trust myself to be able to control my hormones if I were to visit him again that late at night, and since he spent the rest of the week with the jack-ass squat out at the Kappa house, I kept my distance. On Friday night, however, I dressed myself in a long dress and a short coat and went out to the ‘fire pit’ that the Kappas had prepared for their little induction soiree. There were a lot of people out there just having a good time, and I joined in with the festivities.

They tossed an ironic pick tee shirt at Lee and then offered him a nano-potion of some sort. Almost immediately something went wrong. Lee fell to the ground and began convulsing. I ran over to him and picked him up and held him to my chest while I dialed 911. “Lee? I’m getting you help. Stay with me.”

“Hey, Fleur,” he said with a goofy grin and then mumbled something else. I felt something pushing at me from his chest and realized that he was growing breasts.

The truth of what had happened dawned on me and I carefully laid Lee down on the ground before I rushed over to where Remy and his cronies were standing.

“What in the fuck were you thinking? You gave him a Femin-U potion? Are you insane? There have been deaths from people taking that potion.”

Even in the dim light I could see Remy pale, and he turned to run, but he ran into the police officers who had been standing on the edge of the crowd until now.

“Is what she’s saying true?”

“He’s lying.” Remmy spat at me.

“Oh really? So, that is a lie?” I said pointing at a rapidly changing Lee. He...she was getting scary thin and her breasts were huge on her narrow frame. Her shudders had slowed and instead of bringing relief that made me even more scared. I rushed over to her side and lifted her up again. In the moments since I’d held her the last time she’d lost weight and she was burning up.

“Don’t leave me. I love you. Stay with me, Lee.” I hoped that she could still hear me, but her heart beat was so quiet that I couldn’t hear it at all. I lay her on the ground and began to apply compressions to her chest. I had to keep her heart pumping. An EMT roughly pushed me aside. “We heard she drank something, what was it?” the other EMT asked me.

“He drank a Femin-U potion, I think.”

“Shit,” the EMT who’d pushed me aside said. “I need a glucose drip now, Bert.”

The second EMT pulled a clear plastic bag from his kit and expertly pushed the IV needle into her skeletal arm. The bag drained faster than I thought they were supposed to and Lee gasped. Some color came back into her cheeks, but she was still skeletal thin.

The hooked up a second bag and then a third, “this is my last one,” Bert said. This one didn’t drain instantly so they got her up on the gurney and wheeled her away.

“Please don’t let her die,” I called out to whatever gods might be listening to me. The holographic flames where the only things that replied, and they just cackled at me, laughing at my pain.

Call me Donna - the PDF

The music from the club washes through me. I sit there swaying to it, letting it flow through my head, my chest, my hips. The day's events have left me thoroughly washed out and I just want to cease being for a moment or two. The pounding beat draws me out onto the dance floor, and I let it dictate my moves.

It isn't enough to get me to accept this latest rejection, however. I can hear her voice as she tells me that she would love to be my friend. Friend zoned, once again. I try and get angry at that, but I can't. The moves don't feel right when I'm angry, and I just want to dance the way the music drives me.

Pretty soon, I notice that I've fallen into an impromptu choreography with some girls on the dance floor. The smile on my face turns into a grin as I realize that they've noticed it as well. This club always has a live DJ in on Tuesday and Thursday nights, which is a good part of the reason that I come in here so often the T days. Tonight shows why. The DJ begins to work with us to create something ephemeral and beautiful in a pulse pounding sort of way.

The five of us are simply parts of one organic whole and the floor clears a bit to give us room. For a moment, a very brief one, I wish that I had longer hair. In my mind's eye I can see it flowing out behind me, a comet's tail to my body's motion. A couple of the girls with me have long, unbound hair, and with three of us it would balance the two with their hair tight up on their heads, or so the artist in me claims.

I regularly drag my artist into the street and shoot him. He's the reason that I took so long to actually go to school and receive a degree that was only now starting to earn me more than a starvation wage.

All too soon the eternity of movement comes to an end. The girls glisten a bit with exertion and they are truly lovely in the lights of the club. They squeal a bit and pull me into a group hug. If they glisten, I'm sure I'm sweating like a pig. They don't seem to notice. My drab clothing stands out next to their club wear, and I begin to look for somewhere dark to escape to.

"Ladies, you've been upgraded to the VIP section for the evening."

This club has a strange VIP policy, another reason I like it. When you are noticed to have a good time, especially on the dance floor, you can get upgraded to the VIP section. On the T days, that means you can meet the DJ, or Band when they have one of those instead. You also get to hang with the club owner.

He's a cool guy, but I always got a slightly off vibe about him whenever I was in the VIP section. It's not that he ever leered at me, and he really seemed to like women more than men, it's just…as if he always looked at me in an appreciative way. Part of the reason I was wearing what I was tonight. I really didn't want to be noticed.

Well, the girls I'd been with had been noticed and I was happy for them, so I move to make my way off the dance floor, but two of them grab my arms and drag me with them.

"They said we were upgraded to VIP, girl. Come on, you'll like it."

I'm too shocked to protest. Nothing about me should speak to my greatest shame, something I try hard to bury. I'm wearing a loose button shirt and a pair of jeans. The shirt is even unbuttoned a bit showing my flat, albeit hairless, chest. Before you ask, no I don't wax. Bad genetics. I even left the shirt un-tucked to de-emphasize everything.

There should be no question that I'm a guy. I have the right build at least: Shoulders broader than hips, with the whole being a sort of inverted triangle.

My protest dies on my lips as they drag me through the velvet rope. I look up in time to see the owner staring at me again. I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks, and I try to hide in the crowd.

One of the girls notices my actions, and looks in the same direction that I am.

"Collette! Looks like our girl here has been holding out on us. James is looking in our direction like our new friend here is his one last drink of water in the desert."

I shake my head, but the damage is already done.

"No, I'm not…he doesn't…" I whisper furiously. I can't seem to get anything to come out properly tonight. Isn't it enough that my latest hope of a girlfriend dumped me tonight without all of this happening.

"Well, Jane, looks like she can get us an introduction. I've always wanted a chance to sit at his table and guy watch for a couple of hours."

James' table has the best view of the main floor of the club.

They drag me along with them and stand me in front of them with James looking at me appraisingly. I don't want him to look at me like that. It feels too good for me to actually enjoy it. I'm not gay, I say to myself over and over. Even so, no one has ever looked at me like that. My blush deepens.

"So, you finally decided to join me at my table did you?"

My voice is lost somewhere in the butterflies in my stomach. This is a bad idea on so many levels, but the girls don't give me the opportunity to slip away.

"Our girl here seems to be a bit shy off the dance floor, so we thought we'd drag her over here for you."

"Well, let's see if we can drag her out of her shell a little bit, shall we," James replies to the tall blonde who spoke. He says it to me though, and simply gives me a heart-melting smile.

Oh my god, I'm gay. My heart melts in that smile and my knees go weak. Where before they were holding me so I didn't escape, now they are holding me up. There are sounds of concern around me, but I don't really hear them. All I can see, all I can feel, is that single moment, that single smile, and I know I'm lost.

I feel like crying.

"So, who are we all tonight?"

"The same we are every night," I say a bit bleakly with a weak smile on my face. The girls laugh at my poor attempt at humor. I don't dare look at James' face again.

The tall blonde answers first, "I'm Melanie, the cute brunette next to me is Colette. Jane is in the fuck-me heels…"

"Mel!" Jane says, shocked.

"Well, they are kind of fuck-me heels," I say. They have an almost six inch heel and a two inch platform under the toes.

The others giggle and Jane bats me on the arm. If only she were flirting with me, then this might be easier.

"The last of our normal group is Angie, she of the no-skin-showing dress."

"What's wrong with being modest," Angie asks. She is wearing a long sleeved dress that goes to her knees. Her boots disappear above the hem line.

"I think Angie just proves that modest and sexy can share the same bed." I'm on a roll tonight. Angie smiles a friendly smile at me.

James turns the power of his brown eyes at me. I'm pinned to my seat and it's hard to breathe.

"And her name?" he asks. It almost feels like a caress the way he says it.

"We just met her tonight."

"My name is David."

The girls look at me with varying levels of shock.

"What kind of a girl's name is David? What's your real name?" James persists.

It's too much for me. I knew he liked girls, and for some reason he thinks I am one. I could die right there of embarrassment. The tears that were hiding inside me all day break forth and I rush from my seat before anyone can stop me.

I hear someone say, "Stop her," but I don't turn to see who it is. For one moment I saw myself with James, that one glorious moment when I realized I was attracted to him, but that all came crashing down on me the moment that he asked me for something I couldn't give: a name different than my own.

I slip out the fire entrance to the club and sink down against the wall. I'm sure that my silk shirt is ruined, but I don't care at the moment. I just hug my knees and cry.

"There you are, hon. Why'd you run?"

Melanie sits down beside me and pulls me into a hug. She's larger than I am…taller mostly, but with some nice curves that for a moment I envy before pushing the taboo thought down.

"Because I like him, and he'd never want me."

"Sure, you're a little flat on top, but I doubt he cares. Why'd you say your name was David, anyway?"

"Because it is David." I unbutton my shirt the rest of the way and take it off. "I'm a guy, Melanie."

She's speechless for a minute or two, and I figure she'll leave soon. She's looking at me with the strangest expression I've ever seen. She looks away for a moment. She looks back, and blushes.

"Could you put your shirt back on? It's freaking me out."

"I'm sorry that my body looks so horrible to you."

"It's not that. Everything about you is at odds with what my eyes tell me is true. It's like...like looking at a topless photo of a pretty actress, only she has a guy's chest."

I blush at her comment and put my peach colored shirt back on.

"You probably could have picked a more manly color, you know?"

"What's wrong with peach?"

"In the light of the club it looked a little pink."

"It's not like I'm trying to look like a girl. Short hair, no makeup, a shirt and pants. This is definitely not girl clubwear."

"And yet here you are, a girl."

"Huh?"

"Really. Everyone tonight saw it but you, apparently."

"How? I have no hips, no breasts, no real waist to speak of, and I have fairly broad shoulders."

"I have broader shoulders than you have. Hence the clothing choices I make. For someone who claims to be a guy, you did a great job of creating a sexy look."

I blush at turn my face away from her. "What are you talking about?" I mumble.

"You made your shoulders look smaller and your hips look bigger. That and the lines tend to drawn the eye downwards."

My mouth drops open, because I know exactly what she's talking about. Not really how it applies to my clothing, no, but if I were a work of art…

Then it hits me. The open neck of my shirt is an arrow pointing to my navel. Other ways in which I've altered what people look at when they see me come to my artist's mind. Subtly, I've been drawing attention away from my chest and hips focusing them either on my face or my feet.

I sob as the realization hits me. How did I never see this before? I always purchase masculine clothing, avoiding anything even remotely androgynous…and yet…

"It's okay," Melanie says to me.

"How can it be okay? I'm not a girl, and yet apparently everyone thinks I am. Maybe I even think I am somewhere inside, because I dressed myself this way."

She just holds me while I cry. There's nothing pretty about the way I cry. Men are allowed to cry, at least I think so. I'm almost screaming in my agony. Great wracking sobs take me and I hold onto her arm like it's a life preserver from the Titanic.

It's hours in minutes later when I finally calm myself enough that I am simply sniffling a little. Even I can tell my eyes are puffy, and I'm sure I look a mess.

"Come on. Let's get your face fixed up."

"I'm not wearing makeup."

"I know, that's what I want to fix."

Numb from the crying I let her lead me back into the club. I don't even protest when she leads me over to the women's lounge. It's not quite a bathroom, but there are sinks and mirrors in here. She sits me down on one of the round couches and sits down opposite me.

"In the future you're going to have to get your own makeup."

"Wha..?"

"Sharing makeup is unsanitary. I'm doing it this time because you need it. It will help you feel beautiful after that little breakdown of yours."

"I don't want to feel beautiful."

She gives me a look that says she's not buying what I'm selling and sets to work. It feels greasy and a bit cold as she works on my face, at least at first. As she continues to work, however, and the makeup on my face warms to my body temperature, the feeling fades.

I smile a bit as I imagine her paining on my face as if it were one of my own whitewashed canvases. I can see the face slowly come out of my mind and fill up the frame. In my mind, at least, the woman in the picture is a Mona Lisa. Her enigmatic smile hides a depth of character only hinted at in the captured look.

I realize that Melanie has stopped and I look at her with a question in my eyes. Melanie is just looking at me, shocked.

"You sure you're not a girl?" she asks me quietly.

I turn to look in the mirror and what I see amazes me. I see the image from my mind's eye, only the image is me. For years, this girl appeared in my paintings, and I thought her an archetype, a perfect woman, a signature to all of my pieces.

I now realize how wrong I've been. The woman in my paintings is me.

"I'm a woman," I say in a bit of shock. I realize only after I say it how true the statement is. A part of me resonates with the idea.

"I'm a woman," I say with a lot more confidence.

"Hear you roar," Melanie says from her place beside me.

We head back to the VIP area, and sit down next to James, and the other girls, and talk well into the next day. I can feel my attraction for him growing, but I know that after tonight things will go back to the way they were.

The club is closing and James pulls me aside to have a word in private.

At least I thought he wanted a word. He kisses me and light explodes behind my eyelids. I open my mouth to him and feel the force with which he presses me to the wall. I melt into his arms as his kisses become more insistent. I can feel myself becoming aroused, and with what it poking me in the side, I know he is as well. I try not to think of him feeling my own little erection as it embarrasses me for some reason.

"Would you like to come over to my place after we close?" he whispers in my ear.

Oh god, yes. I want to be taken right here and now by this man, but I know who he is too well to let him know that.

"No."

"What? No? But…that kiss, and I know you are into it."

"I'm not looking for a hookup, James, and that's the type of man you are. You would, right now, promise me anything in the world to get into my pants, but it would all evaporate in the morning."

"I'm willing to go gay for you."

I chuckle harshly at him. "That's just it, I'm not gay. My body may have some male characteristics, but I'm a woman. You helped me realize that tonight. I'll always be grateful to you for that, but I'm not going to sleep with you."

I turn to walk away but he grabs me by the arm. "I'd change for you," he says, and his pleading look almost melts me.

"You might mean what you say. You might even change for a time. The problem is that you would likely change back if this is nothing more than your need to get off."

He looks a bit shocked at my crass statement. I smile at him and pat him on the cheek. My hand rests there, like it was made to touch him. I sadly let my hand drop and turn to walk away.

"At least tell me the name of this woman you're becoming," he calls out after me.

As I reach the girls, who waited for me while I had my kiss with the too-handsome man, I call out over my shoulder, "My name is David."

He sputters something so I laugh and link arms with the girls. For once, I don't mind being in the friend zone. I laugh at something Jane says. These girls are my friends. No, we're girls, and we're friends.

"My name is David," I whisper to myself as we finally leave the club, "and I'm a woman."

All individuals in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely unintentional with noted exceptions listed below:

David Eddings is mentioned as an author of epic fantasy.
Robert Jordan is mentioned as an author of epic fantasy.

From the Author: On Friday I wrote 5k words for Elves Rule!. I had the next chapter wrapped up in a neat little bow and I was going to have it ready to post here. I got home only to realize that I didn't save any of it.

Love it? Hate it? Let me know, and above all else let me know if you think it should continue.

I grew up with princesses in my dreams. I was too old for the marketing of the Disney princess, but I was aware of it as an adult. I had, however, grown up with those princesses in my life. I love fairy tales. I love the stories where people come through trials all the better for their challenge.

My life isn't a fairy tale. I don't go through sin changed. You did realize that the woods in a fairy tale represent sin?

Never mind.

My story is about a death. In fact, it begins with death.

And it begins with Disney.

A little strange, huh? Not really all that much, actually. You see, there is one song from all of the cartoon movies that really calls to me every time I look up at the stars at night.

When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are…

I sing it to myself when I stand out there looking up at the stars.

Let me take a moment to explain something. Don't worry, I'll get to the death soon. I haven't forgotten. Don’t worry…I'm saying that too much.

The only thing I ever dreamed of as a kid was being prince charming. Yes, I wanted to be 'that guy.' I was over 6'2" and two hundred thirty pounds of pure muscle. I relished my physique. I spent hours at the gym, keeping myself trim. I watched what I ate.

My job? Not quite perfect.

I worked as a valet at a local restaurant. I got a lot of first dates, but when they found out I was 'just' a valet it kind of ruined the mood. It was more that I was settling in that job. After six years of college, three in undergrad and three more toward my masters degree, I was sort of stuck.

I loved my degree. It was perfect for me. The problem was that it was difficult for me to actually want to go sit up on some mountain somewhere away from society. At least in my experience, female astronomers are kind of rare, and the ones that exist are sort of a strange bunch. I'd have given my left nut for one who was anything like Jodie Foster.

Remember where I mentioned looking up into the stars at night? Yeah, I thought I'd make a job of it at one point. Not so much anymore. Now, I spent all my stargazing on the walk home from the restaurant at one in the morning.

Walking is great exercise, and it saves on gas. See, green AND good looking. How come none of the women I dated could see that?

The weather was rather cool for April and my breath plumed into the darkness. It was chilly more than cold, or so I thought. The stars were bright, even more so than normal for the city. The lack of cloud cover prevented a lot of the light pollution from bleeding out the starscape, and the temperature seemed to have cleared up a lot of the regular pollution that browned the skies.

I'd only just finished the first couplet when movement grabbed my attention. Time slowed down as I watched the 'shooting star' shoot right through me. I barely had enough time to be scared before the small meteorite had slammed into the ground behind me.

At first, I seriously thought I'd gotten through it unscathed. I thought that I was whole. My hands patting my chest certainly told me that tale, but my eyes told a different one when they looked down and saw my dead body staring sightlessly up at the stars.

"At least I get to look into the stars for eternity."

"Well, isn't that a bit of a bother," I heard a light, feminine, voice say from behind me.

I turned around and my eyes…well the memory of my eyes..my spirit eyes?..open wide with shock.

"There really is a blue fairy?"

"Blue? Oh, I see the reference. No, I'm not some magical princess from the stars…well maybe just a princess from the stars. Oh, Bother, I'm making such a mess of this."

I walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. I was dead. No use trying to be macho anymore. It had brought me too much grief while alive; I wouldn't let it affect my death.

"It'll be okay. You'll figure it out."

"How will it be okay? You're dead."

"Well, that means I don't have anything else to worry about. All that hard work I put into my body was wasted time I should have spent improving my personality."

"You're really philosophical about this…"

"I'm dead. I think a lot of my emotions are sort of tied into my flesh, you know, chemicals and hormones and things. Without them? I'm left with my mind and intellect."

"I'm supposed to be calming you. I killed you after all."

"Was it intentional?"

"Not exactly. I was trying to land near you. I figured that would be the best way to get your attention."

"Well, you certainly got my attention," I said with a smirk.

"I was riveting, wasn't I?"

I winced and she looked sad, "too soon?"

"Yeah, too soon."

"Wait, you can see me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

":You're the first earthling that's been able to see one of us. We've been around for years and never seen any of us."

"So, there is life out there and it's been visiting us for years we just never saw it?"

"Yes."

"And there is apparently life after death," I said unhappily. "Don't think I'm ready to go to hell."

"What is hell?"

"Eternal punishment for the self-centered."

"Certainly you weren't that bad a guy?"

"I never got more than a first date with a girl, never opened doors for them, never really saw them for who they were. No, I was a bit of a pig, I think. Everything is getting a bit fuzzy. I know I feel bad about it still. Oh, and I spent way too much time at the gym."

"If I could give you a second chance, would you take it?"

"Really? You can really bring me back to…" I saw the look in her eyes, the loss she was about to suffer, and I shut up. "You'd have to die for me to live, wouldn't you?"

"So insightful," she said with tears in her eyes.

"I can't ask you to give life up for me."

"The reason I came down here, the reason all my sisters come down here is to be a mother. Your planet is inimical to us. We don't last long when we land."

"You really are a shooting star, aren't you?"

She looked at me for a moment and then nodded, "fast and bright. That's us. We can last for a long time out in space, but here, we burn out rather quickly. We only have a short window in which you can decide before I won't have enough energy left."

"Why would you give this to me?"

"Because I took everything from you. I'd be able to give at least something back. Let me be a mother, at least in a certain sense."

"Fine, mom, but don't expect me to visit on the holidays."

She laughed and cried at the same time.

"So, how do we do this?"

She opened her arms to me and I fell into her embrace. For the first time since I'd seen the meteorite I felt something. My body tingled all over. Light filled my vision and I closed my eyes against the pain of it. When I opened them again I was looking into the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. I felt a slight stirring in the core of my being. Something connected me to those eyes and I smiled.

"She's awake! Get the back board over here so we can move her!"

"She?" I said, a little groggily. There was something wrong with my voice, and my clothes didn't fit like they should have. I must have gone to a party and not realized it. Someone must have spiked my drink with something and I'd hallucinated a blue fairy.

I giggled a bit to myself at the thought.

"Miss, are you alright?" The blue eyes were again in my field of vision.

"You have really pretty eyes, you know that?" Wait, was I gay? I know the person in the hot EMT outfit leaning over me was a guy…wait, did I just think he was hot? Did I just tell him he had pretty eyes?

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that aloud. I'm a little out of it."

"Don't worry. I'd be a little out of it too if I just suffered a near miss with a shooting star."

"Near miss?"

"Yeah, if you weren't wearing this oversized shirt, I'd have sworn you were hit in the heart. I'm amazed you weren't burned anywhere."

I put my hand to my chest and felt something unfamiliar there. "What the…"

I had breasts. They felt big in my hands. If it weren't for the difference in my clothing, I'd have assumed that they were at least a D…but a quick calculation suggested to me that they were only a large B or a small C. They'd probably be just perfect on my smaller frame.

"I think I'm about to pass out," I said and then the world went black. I felt the EMT put his hand underneath my head and grinned. He'd touched me.

I awoke to a slight rocking motion. The sound of a siren seemed to wail somewhere nearby. I opened my eyes slowly and saw the inside of an ambulance. Apparently my loss of consciousness caused them to consider this an emergency.

"Back with us again?"

"Are you prince charming?" He flashed a perfect white smile at my question. He had perfect brown hair as well. He was, in a word, perfect. He didn't have the overabundance of muscle in what I was beginning to assume was my old body, but he looked fit. I sighed.

"Miss, are you okay?"

"If I told you that until yesterday I was a man, would you believe me?"

He just looked at me and then laughed. "No, I wouldn't."

"Oh," I said and began to cry.

"It can't be all that bad," he said with a small smile, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, it can. My ID is in my front left pocket."

He reached in and grabbed my very manly wallet. His fingers brushed against my hip and I gasped.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, not exactly," I said with a little smile. How do I tell and EMT that I am trying to tell I am a guy in here that I have a crush on him?

"Is this your brother?"

"No, it is, or I should say was, me."

"There's no way you're over six foot."

"And this clothing fit me until before the meteorite struck. I was looking up at Gamma Cygni when I saw a meteorite coming what I could only assume was straight at me. I died."

"You only thought you died. There isn't a mark on you."

"That's because the woman who was in the meteorite brought me back to life. That sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"What's Gamma Cygni, by the way?"

"Central star in the Cygnus constellation."

"I shoulda guessed you were an astrologer."

"Astronomer, but I can see how you'd be confused. What girl would ever be a scientist?"

"I didn't mean it that way," he said blushing.

I huffed a bit and looked away from him. I wanted to turn my back on him, but I was strapped down to the board and my neck was immobilized. "Would you mind getting off this thing?" I asked sweetly.

"Sorry, I have to let the doctor check you out first."

"You've done quite enough of that," I said looking back at him. He's blushing again. It's kind of cute. Slapping myself for thinking another guy is cute is unfortunately out of the question right now. I'm completely strapped down.

"So, you're into the whole bondage thing," it's not a question. If I have to stay locked her for the next little while, I'm going to push as many of his buttons as I can.

"Only for you," he says. There's a bit of a promise in there, and a hunger that sets my heart beating faster than I'm comfortable with. His mouth is slightly parted and I wonder what his tongue tastes like.

I growl in frustration. "I'm not attracted to you." I think both of us know it's a lie.

"And I'm not supposed to flirt with patients."

"I am so not flirting with you. I can't be flirting with you. You'd know if I was flirting with you."

"Oh, I know."

I screamed a little in frustration. "You are the most frustrating man I've ever known, you know that?"

"You must not have known many men."

"I went to an all-boys prep school. I hated half of my graduating class."

"I'd have thought you'd stick out there."

"I did, but not for the reasons you're thinking."

"Oh, and what am I thinking?"

"That I'm a little insane. I knew I shouldn't have told you about the alien, well she said she was an alien."

"Oh, now it's female aliens is it? Not fairies?""

"Look, okay, I was looking at the starts and singing 'When you wish upon a star,'"

"You do that too?"

"Yeah, I did a little too much D growing up."

He laughed at my pitiful attempt at humor. I'd have liked to get to know him under different circumstances. We could have been friends.

"So, I'm looking up at Gamma Cygni and movement attracts my attention. The meteorite passes right through me, and I think for a moment that I'm perfectly fine, but lo and behold, my corpse is lying at my feet."

"There wasn't a body there, Aurora."

"Wha…oh, sleeping beauty, right. You did a little too much D as a kid too, didn't you? Nevermind. I'm getting to that. So, I turn and there's this woman who's glowing blue."

"I thought you just said you were dead."

"Out of body experience, a duh."

He snickered at me and I smiled.

"So, she tells me she wanted to be a mother and that she could bring me back. I'm thinking I get to be a guy again so I take her up on the offer. I wake up in your arms…" I stopped there because I was blushing up a storm. This is crazy. How can a man affect me like this when a woman never could?

"You're serious about all of this, aren't you?"

"Well, if you were part of my family, I'd tell you something only one of them knew."

"You know that doesn't work, right?"

"What?"

"Con men have been pulling games like that for years. They pretend to know something that only the two of them knew. They take cues from their target and invent a story on the spot that has enough facts to make the person believe that it's something they remember."

"That works?"

"You wouldn't believe how often. I can suggest an alternative, though."

"What's that?"

"A poly-graph."

"What does that prove? If I'm insane then a polygraph would just agree with my delusion."

"How about an eye movement test?"

"Eye movement?"

"Yeah. It's a cognitive awareness test that checks for dilation and other movement of the eye. It's based upon…but if you're telling what you believe to be the truth…"

"No, you might be onto something there. Get my family, friends and colleagues together and they can provide questions and answers that I can be posed. The eye movement test is computer based, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It's supposed to eliminate all the other factors that could cause eye movement changes."

I lay back and closed my eyes. This was going to be difficult. It made me wish that my new mom had been a little more forthcoming about what she was doing, but I had been reborn. I was a completely new person today..

I looked back up into those beautiful eyes after a moment or two. "What's your name?"

"Jaden."

"Mitch," I said, "I'd shake your hand, but it's sort of tied down right now."

"You don't really look like a Mitch, you know."

"Well, without a mirror I have no idea what I look like."

"Beautiful," he said with a little smile.

"That's not really very professional, Mr. EMT Jaden."

"No, it's not. Sorry."

He sat up at that point. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt colder. He must have noticed the frown on my face because he chose that moment to smile down at me. "Look, you're probably just grateful that I'm helping you. It's normal."

"I'm not into guys. There's nothing normal about this."

"You're a lesbian," he said somewhat surprised.

"No, I'm a guy…well I used to be a guy. And I'm not gay, well I don't think I am…I'm confused. You do have really pretty eyes…"

I shut up then and looked away from him. I was saying the strangest things. Sure, I was thinking them, but they weren't what I would normally think, were they?

I closed my eyes so I didn't have to see him smirking at me. Sure, I spent a lot of time at the gym, and I looked at the other guys, but I'd never actually become aroused by them. And it's not like thinking of penises got me interested in sex…

I felt an emptiness in my stomach and a slight dampness in my crotch. I could feel my heartbeat begin to increase. My breathing became shallow. I could almost see Jaden disrobing in front of me in my own private strip show.

I knew exactly how he would look, a slight smile on his lips as he gazed into my eyes. It suddenly occurred to me why women were interested in guys in uniform. It wasn't the uniform that interested them…that interested me. It was the guy inside that uniform and what it represented. Guys in uniform represent the best of the male gender. They sacrifice their own comfort for that of the rest of society. They risk their lives for the rest of us. They save us from ourselves.

Jaden was right, to a certain degree. He was turning be on because of what he was, not who he was. It was in that moment that I realized, guy or not, I really was interested in guys. I think, deep down, I'd known I always had been. Did Blue know something about me that I never had?

I began to cry a bit, still keeping my eyes closed. I felt something soft brushing against my face. My eyes opened with a start and I watched as a concerned Jaden wiped my tears with a bit of gauze.

"Are you in any pain?"

I tried to shake my head, but forgot that it was restrained. "I'm fine, just realizing some things about myself. Apparently I'm gay."

"Oh, really?" he said chuckling.

"Shut up, you. I used to work out a lot. I mean a ridiculous amount, and I spent a good portion of the time I worked out guy watching. You know, checking out their muscles in relation to my own. I just didn't realize that it gave me a little thrill to watch how their muscles moved until right this moment when I really began to examine it."

"Oh, so you like to watch guys work out, huh?"

I nodded as much as the neck brace would let me. "I'd love to see you work out some time. Maybe you could spot me…I did not just think that." I said blushing. I'd just imagined him sweating, naked, on top of me. There would be silk sheets behind my back that I'd slide across with each…my heart was racing again.

"As your paramedic, I have to say that a racing heart is probably contraindicated right now."

For the first time I realized I was hooked up to a heart monitor and I blushed again. "I'm going to die, right here."

"No, you've got a strong heartbeat and a healthy glow in your cheeks."

"I meant of embarrassment, Mr. know-it-all."

"I know for a fact it's not possible to die of embarrassment."

I couldn't help it; I laughed.

"You seem more like a Lilly to me."

"Why?" I said looking at him with a question in my eyes.

"Because you are as beautiful as a delicate flower."

"Is that a pickup line? Really, Mr. Stand-up-comedian?"

"Yes, Ms. Thousand-names."

"Mr. Too-true-blue-eyes."

"You really like to look at my eyes, don't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Overdeveloped-sense-of-self."

"Now you're just getting mean."

I smiled at him and then just looked around at the ceiling while we continued to drive to the emergency room. There is a lot more going on, on the ceiling of an ambulance than you'd think. There are numerous cabinets and hatches and such in view. Also, there is something relaxing about watching the light move across the white and silver ceiling.

They came to a complete stop and turned off the siren. The doors opened and they pulled me quickly out of the ambulance into the hospital emergency room. "Twenty-four year old female presented with disorientation and loss of consciousness at the site of a meteorite impact."

"Seriously? Meteorite impact?"

"When I saw her shirt, I almost thought she might actually have been hit by a meteor"

"Meteorite, Jaden. Meteorite." I said.

"She seems lucid enough."

Some alarms went off in the room and they got a little agitated. I didn't know what was going on so I stayed quiet as they began moving things more quickly. They wheeled me into the back and checked me out. They removed my clothing from me and put me into a gown. Then they ran a Geiger counter across me and my clothing. My chest and shirt seemed to be more highly radioactive than anything else, but I was considerably more lit than the surrounding atmosphere.

They wheeled me into a shower and scrubbed me down. I could tell before they started that my skin was more sensitive and they weren't at all gentle with their ministrations. I instinctively tried to cover up to maintain at least some small part of my modesty.

Then I was back into my gown and I was back in bed in my room.

Jaden had gone as soon as he dropped me off in the ER and I really thought that would be the last I saw of him. I had no insurance that people would accept as being mine, no name, no money, and a hospital bill that would be steadily increasing the longer I stayed put. That being said, I couldn't being myself to get out of that bed. It was relatively comfortable, and they wanted to run tests on me to make sure that the radiation I'd acquired hadn't done any permanent damage.

They'd burned my clothing in the incinerator downstairs and then put the ashes with the rest of the radioactive waste that any middle to large hospital generates on a daily basis.

It had been about one in the morning when I'd died, the EMTs found me some time after dawn. Now, after all their tests were done, for the time being at least, I was left alone in the middle of the day with nothing to do. I'd never been much for daytime television, and my family didn't even know to mourn me…or that I was in the hospital.

There was a knock at the door and a civilian clothed Jaden walked in. I hated the way my body heated when he came into the room, or the fact that his smile made my heart skip a beat.

I wasn't going to be one of those girls.

And just like that I realized that I'd accepted that I was a girl. Whether or not this had something to do with Blue didn't really matter. I'd accepted all that had happened to me, and I was going to make the most of it.

"You just have an epiphany?"

"Something like that. I thought it was unprofessional to spend time with your patients."

"Former patient. I'm off the clock now, aren't I? And you're in the hands of the doctors now."

"So."

"Ok, I'll leave if you want me to. I just thought I'd check up on you and make sure you were okay. The nurses mentioned to me you didn't leave any next of kin. Is it because of what we discussed on my rig?"

"I thought you were going to leave…"

He actually turned around to walk out of the room so I called out, "Wait. Sorry. I'm really not used to this."

"Used to what?"

"Flirting with a guy. I know how to do all of this with girls, and it didn't help…how I looked. I'm just new to all this."

"So, you were flirting with me?"

"Yes, and I liked it when you flirted back…at least I think you were flirting."

"Yes, Jaden is a flirt. How are you, Mitch?" A doctor I'd known my entire life walked into the room.

"Doctor Lewis? You believe me?"

"Well, I'm not sure I'd go so far as believe, but I'm willing to put it to the test that Jaden mentioned earlier to me."

"You've been talking about me?" I wasn't sure if I were angry, relieved or turned on by his take charge attitude. I could tell that any relationship that I initiated with Jaden would be tempestuous. Both of us were take charge types. I stopped and wondered for a moment what the sex would be like. The thought caused me to blush.

"I talked to the ER doc about you, Dr. Lewis over heard me mention your name and he wanted to see if you recognized him."

"It doesn't conclusively prove anything, but I figured it would be an easy way to disprove your claim if you didn't recognize me."

"After six broken bones and countless cuts and scrapes how could I not remember you?"

"Five broken bones," he said with a slight frown.

"Now, I broke my right arm twice in one summer. I wasn't out of the cast for more than six hours when I broke it again. You prescribed calcium pills to try to aid in recovery thinking I might have a deficiency that caused the break in the first place. I'll never forget the chalk-latey taste of those things," I made a face at the memory.

"Wow, I'd completely forgotten that. You're right."

The doctor checked my vitals, again, and then left.

"So, that proved it, right?"

"Nope."

"But…"

"See, my dad was a world class con artist. I watched him work people for everything from free meals to driving cars off the lot with dealer plates on them. Some pretty expensive cars too. That little stunt you pulled could easily have been the work of an expert liar covering their tracks. You supplied enough personal detail to make him question his own memory, but not so much that he decided you were making things up."

"My medical records will support what I just said."

"I'm sure they will, and I never said that I don't believe you."

"You..he...argh!"

"All I said was that didn't prove anything. You could have read Mitch's medical records. It doesn't hurt that you're gorgeous. People are more likely to believe a pretty person who lies to them than an ugly one."

"I'm not lying!" I was really starting to get agitated at this point, and he could see it.

"For some reason, I think you might actually be telling the truth."

I blinked and my mouth dropped open. "You do?"

"Yes. I've watched you. I see how agitated it makes you when someone calls you a liar, even obliquely. My dad? He'd just invent a new lie, one he figured had a better chance of being accepted. You, on the other hand just stick to your guns, insisting it's the rest of the world that's wrong. I kind of admire that.

He'd been walking closer as he spoke, and I felt my temperature rise and my heart-rate increase. The same empty feeling in the pit of my stomach was there along with the dampness. I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. He was standing next to my bed, and I put my hand on his arm in preparation to pull him in closer.

His eyes locked on mine and I saw something terrifying and thrilling in his eyes. I saw a need that echoed my own and made me want to kiss him even more.

Someone cleared their voice loudly at the door. I blushed and finally looked away from Jaden as if I'd been released from a magnetic pull. Jaden chuckled when he saw who it was.

"Lilly, this is my partner Bruce."

"Partner?" I looked at the figure in the doorway. A very tall black man stood there for a moment before stooping a bit to get through the doorway. If this hadn't been an extra wide hospital doorway it's likely he'd have to turn sideways to get through.

"On the rig," Jaden said with a laugh at the slight frown that had formed on my face.

"Huh? Oh, no. I know him from somewhere. I just can't quite place him."

"No one ever forgets Bruce," said the man in a deep rumbling bass voice.

"You work out in the gym on Fifth and Columbine, don't you?"

"Yeah, well I used to. I haven't been there in about six months…"

"Since you broke the Nautilus," I said with a little giggle.

"I know I never saw you there, you would have stuck out like a sore thumb."

'Guys' is a gym that for some unknown reason to me doesn't allow any women a membership. Then it suddenly dawned on me looking at the way Bruce was dressed. It was a gay gym. How could I have worked out there for over three years and never realized it.

I blushed again.

"I was called Mitch O'Connell last time I would have seen you."

"Mitch the Bitch?" Bruce said his eyes opening up wide.

"What?"

"The other guys had a nickname for you. You obviously enjoyed the scenery, but you never gave any of the guys the time of day."

"I didn't realize until just now that it was that type of establishment, okay? I didn't even realize how attracted to guys I was until all this happened," I said gesturing at myself.

"Oh, I have to share this with the guys at the gym. You were really that naíve?"

I just nodded mutely.

"Girl, I think that for you we might make an exception and let you keep your membership."

"You still have one after the incident"

Bruce just laughed, "Now I know you're Mitch, or he was a lot more open with you than anyone else would be. I haven't told anyone what happened."

I started laughing just remembering it. Jaden looked a little lost. I patted him on the arm in commiseration. "You seriously missed something. It all started with a bottle of lube that Bruce forgot was in his pocket."

"How did you know it was lube," Bruce asked.

"I've purchased that brand before. It has a distinctive smell to it. So, he sits down…"

Bruce rushed over and put his hand over my mouth. I licked his hand with a playful look in my eye.

"Girl, if I wasn't completely into my boyfriend you might just tempt me to go straight."

I smirked at him under his hand and began nibbling. He pulled his hand away with a little curse and I blew him a kiss. "This girl is evil," he said with a grin.

"I wonder if she'd give me the same courtesy," Jaden said and put a finger on my lips. I just quirked an eyebrow and grinned up at him. Eventually he removed it, but the place where it had been burned a bit. Not in a painful way, but more…like I wanted him to touch me like that everywhere.

I looked over at Bruce and said, "You mind going out and closing the door?"

They both laughed at me and I smiled.

It wasn't really a joke, but I was glad that they took it as such. It hit me that I was really interested in sex right now. Possibly a little more than was healthy for me. When Bruce and Jaden finally left I got up and got a cold shower just to calm the hormones a bit. It didn't work perfectly, but it worked, and that was all that mattered at the moment.

From the Author: Yes, you have likely read this already. This is a repost of chapter two in preparation of continuing this story.

I awoke to the quiet sounds of a sleeping hospital. Sure, there are still people moving around, but the constant pages for this or that doctor, the sounds of doors opening and closing, and the sundry other noises of a living building are absent. Lights are off. People talk in hushed whispers. I was immediately bored out of my mind.

My entire life I'd been one of those people who had to be doing something. Even when I was staring up at the stars I was deciding which one I'd look for intelligent life on. Yeah, I'd wanted to work with SETI for a while, but mostly when I did work in my field I was looking for planets in the so called 'Goldilocks Zone'.

It was my specialty. Unfortunately I picked stars that other people had already found planets on. Thing is, I found planets on every star that I looked for them on.

One of these days I was going to find a new planet and then watch out world, there was going to be a planet Mitch out there.

Well, I used to think that. Now? I didn't even have a degree in my name. I no longer was an astronomer. That hurt. It was the only thing that I really wanted. The only thing I'd ever wanted. I got out of bed and went over to the window. Only the brightest of stars was visible in the night sky. I could name most of those I saw.

It was my passion, remember.

I spent that night saying goodbye to all my friends. They were my best friends growing up. All; the nights I spent in the boy scouts were spent looking up at the stars. I learned the constellations so that I could remember which stars were mine, which I'd lay claim to.

I fell asleep counting the stars and wishing them well on their trip through the universe.

My back ached. I could feel strong hands rubbing my shoulders and smoothing the tight muscles in my back and I stretched into those hands. Then I remembered the events of the previous day and I stood up and turned around.

"Good morning, Lilly."

"My name isn't Lilly, Jaden."

"Ok, then how about Rose." I wrinkled my nose and just shook my head at him. He laughed and I couldn't help giggling a little. His laugh was infectious.

"So, who is Mr. Has-a-thousand-names now?"

"I looked up girl names with flower meanings last night."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. I had to find the perfect name for you. I did say you were as beautiful as a flower, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did say. Why can't you just call me Mitch?"

"Because I really don't see you as a Mitch. You might have been born Mitch, but you're not a boy any more. You need a better name."

"Flora, then."

"Oh, a goddess and a flower, I can handle that."

"Wait a minute, I didn't mean…"

"Too late, I'm going to go get your records here changed now…Flora."

I wanted to grumble, but it was really hard for me to stay angry with Jaden. He seemed so full of life, and he made me want to let go of the little things.

Dr. Lewis came in just as Jaden left, making it impossible for me to actually stop him from having his way with my records.

"It looks like you're feeling better."

"I wasn't feeling bad yesterday, Dr. Lewis. You were the one who wanted me to stay over night, remember?"

"I did that, didn't I? I've spoken with Mitch's parents. They're willing to participate in Jaden's test. I haven't told them about you yet. I'm still of two minds about the whole thing."

"I want to reclaim my life, at least some of it. I want to see my parents again and have some sort of relationship with them."

"Let's just get through the test first, shall we? They'll collect all of the information for me, and I'll be creating the true false answers that the computer will be using."

I nodded and smiled. That was something, at least.

"I also got your professors in on it…I mean Mitch's professors. They'll be providing knowledge based questions and what history they know."

"I have a feeling that this is going to be one big test."

"I fully expect there to be somewhere around a thousand questions when we're done."

I took a deep breath and let it out again. "So, what's on the schedule for me today, Doctor?"

"We're going to have you in for a full body MRI."

"Well, let's get to it then," I said with a smile.

He went to the nurse's station and got me a wheel chair, which I sat in and he raced me down the hall like we were children. I'd always liked that about Dr. Lewis. He loved to have fun, and even if he was in his seventies now, I couldn't see him retiring to the quiet life.

We got to the room and he had me lie down on the table before giving me the ear plugs. I was happy that I didn't suffer from claustrophobia because the machine was tight, or at least felt tight to me. I was in there a little while before the boredom set in.

I did my best not to fidget, but it didn't make it really any fun. I began to hum some of my favorite songs and that seemed to keep me occupied because the next thing I was really aware of was that I was being pulled out of the machine and Dr. Lewis was helping me back into the chair for the return trip.

Somehow the gown had slipped up while I was getting into the chair because the air caught it and tried to wrap the gown around my neck. I held it down as I really was wearing nothing under it and didn't want to show the world my girly bits before Jaden had a chance to give me a thorough physical examination.

That thought alone made me feel like slapping myself, but it made the smile on my face even bigger that in was just from Dr. Lewis' antics. I felt younger, somehow, that I had just a couple of days before. Not that I had more energy or anything like that. More like I felt that all my worries had left me behind. I felt free.

It's not like I didn't have any worries. It was more like I felt that the world before had been inexplicably wrong and now it was inexplicably right.

Dr. Lewis deposited me in the room I'd come to feel was mine and went off to try to decipher the MRI that he'd taken of me. Jaden was gone when we returned so I lay myself down in the bed. "How's the sickie?"

"Princess Bride? Really? Do I look like a ten year old Fred Savage to you?"

"Nah, but I couldn't resist the jab."

"So, what are you up to now, Jaden?"

"I thought we'd go for a walk."

"Not while I'm stuck in this," I gestured at the clothing I was wearing.

"Not to worry. I've got some yoga pants, a tank top and sundry foundation garments."

"Do I want to ask?"

"Ask what?"

I just glared at him with an upraised eyebrow.

"Oh, the clothing. Well, I described you to my sister and she suggested the top and pants. She also suggested I bring a variety of bras and panties since I didn't know your actual sizes."

"I don't even know my sizes," I said with a little grin. He deposited the clothing on my bed and then stood back.

"You mind?" I gestured for him to leave.

"Oh, sorry."

"Close the door please, Jaden."

He complied and I quickly sorted through the plain white cotton undergarments until I found some in my size. It took a little trial and error, but eventually I found some that covered me and hugged me in all the right places. There is something about going commando that has always bothered me, and finally being in some well fitting undergarments brought that feeling to my attention with its absence. The loose garment I'd been wearing hadn't abraded my breasts at all, but now having them properly supported was like heaven. I felt dressed even though I was only wearing my undergarments. For the first time I think I really understood how women could wear a bikini and not feel self conscious. Sure, some of them felt that way, I'm sure, but I could envision myself wearing a pair without any real worries.

It was almost anticlimactic slipping into the tank and pants after putting on the underwear. I didn't feel any more dressed, and to a certain extent I felt more exposed wearing those pieces.

I don't know how to explain it, but it was like they were designed to feel like they wouldn't impede any of my movement. Not that they actually impeded movement, but they felt barely there to me. It might also have been my mind expecting the heavy weight of male clothing. The simple scraps that form women's clothing is insubstantial in comparison.

I walked over to the door and opened it. Jaden fell in on top of me so I took the opportunity to wrap my arms around him and explore his stomach a little.

"Hey," I said with a purr.

"Hey yourself," he replied. He slowly extricated himself from my embrace and turned me around to get a good look at me.

"Very nice, Flora."

"You're going to keep that one, aren't you?"

"You suggested it, goddess."

I grumbled a little, but I was grinning at him while I did it. Truth be told I kind of liked the name Flora. It was almost exotic at the same time as being common. I can't explain it. It just felt like it had always been meant to be my name.

"I want to show you something."

He took me to the roof of the hospital where I fully expected the helicopter pad. What I didn't expect was what else occupied the roof. There was a large glass and plastic greenhouse occupying the greater portion of the roof, out of line with the direct access from the helicopter pad itself.

"What is this?"

"This, my darling flora, is the rooftop garden. A doctor a few years ago started it as a hobby to keep him sane and since then we've sort of added to it."

"The doctors and EMS and everyone?"

"Pretty much. Only those of us who like gardening pitch in."

We walked into the greenhouse and the wind cut off immediately. I'd been a little cold in just my exercise gear, but inside the hothouse it was a different matter. It was warm and I was glad for the loose light clothing that Jaden had brought for me.

I walked through the eclectic gathering of plants until I found a bed devoted entirely to lilies. "This one is you, isn't it?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Of all the flower names you could have picked out, it was Lilly first."

"Yes, I like growing flowers."

"You know I don't belong to you, right?"

"Yeah, but if I'm really careful and take proper care of you I might be able to spend a lifetime with you."

Out of nowhere tears erupted from my eyes. I turned away from him so he wouldn't see. They were happy tears full of gooey goodness at the sappy line he'd fed me. It was only made better because I could tell he sincerely meant it.

"I hardly know you, Jaden."

"Well, I didn't propose to you, Flora, I only said I was willing to build a relationship with you. Relationships are a lot like growing flowers. They're beautiful from afar, but you fail to realize how much work the perfect flower takes to grow properly."

"So, they're like pretty little bonsai trees are they?"

"They can be. More, though, they're flowers, delicate and beautiful. I love the perennials personally. They seem to die, but they're just restoring their strength to come back into full bloom in the spring. They never disappear completely; they just hide for a while."

We wandered around the greenhouse looking at the flowers and vegetables that the other patrons had planted and tended here. The variety spoke something about the doctors of this hospital. The flowers that Jaden planted spoke something to my very soul.

"Thank you for showing me this."

"You're always welcome, Flora. So, think you might like to spend another day with me sometime?"

"Maybe," I said with what I assumed was a coquettish smile.

"Well, I'll take a maybe from the beautiful girl I just met yesterday."

We walked back to the stairs and he put an arm around my shoulders to protect me a little from the wind until we got inside. I leaned my head into his shoulder. How many minutes is too soon to decide that you really like someone? How many minutes before you can allow yourself to admit that you love them?

Dates are mere moments in time separated by our normal lives. What is a good date? Two or three hours at most?

I had spent so many more hours than that already with this man. I'd definitely be in the third date category at the very least. Was that soon enough to really be falling for him?

I felt I needed time to process the feelings that he awoke in my chest. He brought me to my room and helped me into bed.

"Good night, Jaden. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure, I think I can manage that."

"When do you work?"

"I'm a night shift guy. The owls and I own this city."

"When do you sleep?" I said, suddenly worried for his health.

"I get enough sleep, Flora. You only let me stay for about eight hours a day. A nice nap before and after and I'm good for a full shift. Besides, thoughts of you keep me going."

"You need to get more sleep, Jaden. You can't ruin your health on my account. I'm hardly worth it."

"You're worth it and more, Flora. Trust me on this one."

I blushed but I couldn't help feeling that in some way he was being unfair to himself, and in extension me, by burning the candle at both ends.

I stared out the window at the sky as the sun slowly creeped toward the horizon and slipped to bed. I should be tired, but I greeted my friends as they appeared one by one and bid them all a good morning. I was asleep long before Cygnus graced the sky.

The sunlight streaming in through my window woke me up much earlier than I'd normally enjoy. That was one of the downsides to having a room on the south side of the building; the sun was able to get to you no matter what time of day it was.

The upside was the cheery glow that the sun added to the room. "That's something I could get used to," I said to the empty space around me.

"What is," Jaden said from the doorway.

"Hey, Jaden. Did I ever mention how much I like to see you in uniform?"

"I had a drop-off and wanted to see how you were doing."

I had to laugh at that. "You just saw me."

"I can never see enough of you, Flora."

I blushed and put my hand to my chest. My heart was racing again. "Down girl," I almost whispered to myself. It was something I could handle, this new libido of mine that wasn't really that much different than the old one. There were different triggers, sure, but it's not like I walked around screwing everything while I was a man, and I was damned if I would let this rule my life as a woman.

People talk about men thinking about sex all the time. From my experience it wasn't all the time, just anytime there was a pretty woman in the room, and in my case a good looking guy. You consider what it would be like undressing them, seeing the lust growing in their eyes. You think about how it would be.

It seemed, to me at least, that with women at takes the right person to get you there. And it's not how they look, although that doesn't hurt, but more who they are.

Maybe that's why men's fashions are so staid while women's are so varied?

Men don't need to look good to get the woman. I mean sure, if they're just dirty and smelly that's got a be a turn off, but as long as they act the part, and look halfway decent, we'll overlook everything else.

A woman is on sale the whole time from makeup to perfume to clothing. They have to show just the right amount of skin for their body, have the perfect scent, and show just the right amount of beauty. And don't forget the heels to improve their 'muscle tone'.

"You look pensive."

"Sorry, I'm having an internal monologue about the differences in male and female sexuality while watching you fidget deliciously in that tight uniform."

"You know how to make a man feel like a piece of meat."

I laughed with him as he crossed the room.

"Aren't you supposed to be on the clock?"

"Sure, which is why I thought I'd check your vitals while I'm here."

"Oh no you don't, Mr. I'm-an-EMT-not-a-doctor."

"You know you'd love to have me check you out."

"There is no way in hell I'm having sex my first time in a semi-private room in a hospital bed as grungy as I feel right now."

"I thought you weren't a girl?"

I swat his arm, realizing even as I do it how girly a move that is.

"No, I'm not a girl. I'm a woman. I'm twenty-four years old. Doesn't mean I can't feel nasty with…too much information for you. Regardless I know intimately what it feels like now to just feel dirty. Yes, I showered, but this is the same set of clothing that I wore yesterday…which I just slept in. Same underwear too."

"Well, I'll have to get you some more clothing now, won't I?"

"You can't just keep buying me things."

"I want to buy you things, and if they're useful, then all the better."

"Look who's Mr. Practical."

"Are you ever going to get tired of that?"

"You ever going to get tired of calling me Flora?"

"Never," he said as he gazed into my eyes. I broke the connection to prevent what I knew was coming next.

"Oh, you're good," I said with a smile. I just giggled at his confused look. "And you don't even know you're doing it, do you?"

"Doing what?"

"You are the sexiest, most romantic guy I've ever known, and all this is just natural you, isn't it?"

"I guess…" he said, even more confused.

"Don't worry about it, Jaden. It's a good thing. Please don't ever change. No matter how much I might beg you later, stay this guy forever."

"I'll try," he said, the smile coming back to his face.

"Now, get back to work. You shouldn't lose your job on my account."

I put a finger to my lips after he'd left, wondering what it would be like for him to kiss me. I'd kissed girls in the past. I knew how that felt. What would it be like to be the girl? To be kissed…

Jaden made me feel special. He made me feel loved in a way that no one ever had in my life.

The problem was that when I'd told him I was a virgin, I was telling the absolute truth. Sure, I'd gotten to second base with Katie back in high school, but that was it. I'd never gotten any further than that. Knowing what I know now I realize that I was trying to force something that just wasn't there.

Everything with Jaden was just so easy.

"How's the sickie?"

"Grandpa!"

Dr. Lewis laughed from the doorway, and I smiled over at him.

"So, I want to keep you here under observation for a couple more days."

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, mostly you're a very healthy young woman. The residual radiation from whatever happened to you seems to be localized around your heart, which is a little worrisome to me."

"Ok," I said. I wanted to get out of this room, or at the very least get something to do. I was sure I'd now lost my job at the restaurant, but hopefully I could at least find work doing something, and if I could get back into school…

"We have your test scheduled for ten this morning."

"Test?"

"To see if you're Mitch."

"Oh!" Somehow in my growing interest in Jaden the test I'd requested had slipped my mind. It felt like weeks had passed since I got here, not just days.

"I'll let you clean up before I take you down there. I like your outfit by the way."

"Jaden got it for me," I said with a contented smile on my face.

"I'll have to talk to that young man…"

"Wait," I said, getting a little scared, "He's not going to get in trouble, is he?"

"He should get in trouble. He knows the rules."

"Then he didn't get me this outfit. And I'm not seeing him. Please, you can't blame Jaden for this. I like him. I like spending time with him. It's the only thing that's keeping me from going out of my head with boredom right now."

"He knows he's not supposed to proposition the patients."

"If anything I propositioned him, Dr. Lewis."

"It's not really a policy anyway. One of his former patients accused him of impropriety. That's the reason he lost his medical license."

"He was a doctor?"

"He still is. He's just on probation right now. I was worried that he might be repeating past mistakes. He's always been very friendly with the ladies, although I don't think it ever progresses beyond a little flirting."

"Oh," I said watching my world go down in flames with those few simple words.

"So, you're test?"

"Let me get ready. You can take me down around 9:30?"

"I'll be here."

Dr. Lewis' words echoed through my head. Was that it? Was Jaden just friendly? Spending more than twelve hours with me over two days could be more than just friendly…but it could be that he's just a really good guy. He knew that I had no one else, and he knew I was stuck in the hospital for the time being, but could it be more than that?

Sure, he'd held me on our way to the stairs the night before, but could that have been nothing more than concern for my well being?

This was so confusing. I didn't know how to deal with this apparent rejection. I'd hoped that now that I was being true to myself that all my relationship woes would go away. Intellectually I knew that couldn't be the case, but I hoped it might be. But here I was, once again, being rejected.

It hurt. It really hurt. I held myself and cried in the shower as the warm water pelted me from above. I stayed there until the water grew cold and then hopped out and got back into the grungy clothing I had to wear.

Dr. Lewis appeared promptly at 9:30 with a wheelchair and we again raced down the corridors. Without the gown to expose me to the world I felt a lot more comfortable just enjoying the experience. My hair whipped around in the wind of our passage. I giggled the entire way.

We stopped in front of a door and Dr. Lewis helped me to my feet. "It's right in here, dear. Just look toward the screen. We've got a number of cameras trained on where your eyes should be. This test is timed, of course. Just answer each question as truthfully and quickly as you can."

I sat down at the terminal. There was a mouse to click on the answers and there was a single question on the screen. 'Are you ready to begin?' Below the question were three large buttons. The first said 'yes', the second said 'no' and the third said 'I don't know'.

I figured that this would be representative of the rest of the test and was giving me a chance to start the timer when I was ready. I was right. The questions were mostly short. Some had strange wording.

There were questions about where I grew up, who my first crush was, my GPA in high school, 3.5 by the way, not the 3.2 the test stated, and many, many, other things.

They even got into true false questions about my college years, both personal and academic life.

I had to answer some of the questions 'I don't know.'

It's funny the things that people think you should remember but they were never important enough to you to make a lasting impression.

I tried to answer each question truthfully, even the ones that were embarrassing. I finished the test with a single question that struck me strangely when I'd gotten to it.

'Are you Mitch O'Connell?"

Without hesitation I clicked on 'I don't know.'

I'd been Mitch before all of this happened. I was a valet at a local restaurant. I was becoming increasingly fed up with the dating scene. I was trying to keep my love of the stars alive and find that perfect someone at the same time and failing at both.

I'd been in a downward spiral with my life careening out of control.

Now, however, I had hope. Sure, I didn't look like Mitch, and I certainly didn't feel like Mitch.

Those minutes I'd spent dead had changed me into the woman who now sat there and stared at the question that could have easily proven to them I was the person I claimed. Unfortunately for me, I was beginning to realize I might not be that person any more.

"If it wasn't going to matter anyway, why did you convince me to take that test?" I screamed at the window. Really I was screaming at my parents who were having a heated discussion in the parking lot. They couldn't hear me. Jaden could, and partially it was him I was mad at. Livid is closer to the truth.

"If I remember correctly, you didn't need much convincing."

"Not helping."

He walked up behind me and hugged me from behind. I lay my head back on his shoulder and half whispered, "This isn't really helping either, Jaden."

"Yeah, but it feels nice, doesn't it?"

I remembered what Dr. Lewis said at that point and I pushed away from him. "That reminds me, I'm pissed at you for a completely different reason. What's this I hear about you being a doctor?"

"Well, I am…" he said and petered off.

"Under probation and what does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh, nothing except you temporarily lost your license because of a problem with a pretty female patient. Sound familiar?"

"it's not what you think…"

"You didn't flirt with a patient and get into a relationship with her and then she reported you when there was a problem?"

"Ok, so it's exactly what you think…but not what you think."

"Ok…so…what?"

"I flirt with my patients. It tends to make them comfortable. I never really mean anything by it."

"You don't," I said, a frown appearing on my features.

"Ok, I usually don't mean anything by it. It started out normal flirting with you, but there's something different about you. Sorry, this isn't what I want to say. She gave me her number and I made the mistake of tossing it in the trash as I was walking out the door."

"You did what?" I said laughing. Even I knew that was something stupid for him to have done.

"I know. How could I have been that stupid? I'd just gotten a code on a patient and I was rushing out the door to save a life."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Look, I shouldn't have done it. I should have been more…distant…but it's not me. Now, as an EMT, I only have to see them for a few minutes. It works out best for everyone."

"You could always wear a wedding band." I only realized what that could sound like after I said it and blushed.

"Only if you have a matching one," he said with a grin. I began smiling at him and then frowned.

"You sidetracked me. I'm still pissed about that test. What was the point?" I looked out the window. My parents were still arguing. My mom looked up at the building and saw me. She waved. I waved back halfheartedly.

"That was the point. You're dad might not be there, but you're mom wants to believe."

"What if I don't believe anymore?"

I turned around and looked up at him. I wanted him to tell me it was all going to be alright. At the same time I wanted him to tell me it never was alright. "Why can't life be simple?"

"Because then humanity wouldn't exist. We complicate things for the fun of it. What do you mean you don't believe anymore?"

"Oh, I'm sure I used to be Mitch. The thing is, I'm not Mitch anymore. I ceased to be Mitch the second I died. I'm a person who just happens to share twenty-four years of memory with Mitch. I'm Flora O'Connell."

"You know, that's missing something, don't you?"

"What?"

"Your name. I still prefer Lilly."

"Ok, Mr. I'm-calling-you-lilly-no-matter-what-you-want. That's enough of the changing my name game."

"You're not stopping."

"My rules, I can break them if I want."

"Oh, really."

"Yes, really."

"Fine, Lilly Evangeline Flora O'Connell."

I blinked at him a couple of times. "Where did Evangeline come from?"

"Well, Lilly Flora doesn't seem to work and Flora Lilly is even worse. It needed something fitting to separate the two."

"So, you decided to give me four names? And I said no more changing my name."

"No more, I promise, Lilly."

I made a face and stick out my tongue. He leaned in and kissed my tongue. I was so shocked that I just stared at him. That was the weirdest, hottest, weirdest thing I'd ever done with another human being. My heart raced and my chest felt tight. I just stood there, my arms at my side, doing my best to keep from throwing my arms around him and kissing him until he begged for mercy.

The moment passed and he just grinned at me.

"How's the Sickie."

"That's getting old, Dr. Lewis."

"Not for me. And the answers you come up with for it just keep me interested. Jaden," he said a little coldly.

"Dr. Lewis. I was just leaving."

"No, you weren't. Dr. Lewis. I want Jaden here. He's the closest thing I have to friends, family, or whatever."

"The closest thing, huh?"

"I can't exactly call you my boyfriend after only knowing you for three days can I?"

Both men's jaws dropped at my declaration. "Yes, I'm dating Jaden," I said to Dr. Lewis. "Yes, I really like you," I said to Jaden. He gave me a quick hug and went over to sit on the other side of the room.

"Well, that's…unexpected, especially considering your test results, Mitch."

"So, they came out conclusive?"

"Yes, not only didn’t you lie, but you got all the questions right."

"Excuse me? There were some in there that I couldn't remember. I answered 'I don't know' a lot of times."

"They were planted questions. "

"I said I didn't know if I was Mitch anymore."

"I figured that was how you were answering that question. You're academic advisor wants to speak to you before reinstating your degree, and we have to discuss changing your name, if you want to."

"Lilly Evangeline Flora O'Connell," Jaden said from the other side of the room.

"Not helping," I said in a singsong voice.

"That's a very pretty name," Dr. Lewis said almost at the same time and then laughed at my response. "Are you sure you haven't known each other for longer than three days?"

Jaden laughed and I blushed. "You be nice to my girl, Jaden." Dr. Lewis said as he left and I noticed tension drain out of Jaden.

"Wait. Dr. Lewis. How much longer do I need to stay here?"

"You should be able to get out of here tomorrow. You have an appointment with your advisor in the afternoon, so we'll try to get you out of here in the morning."

I nodded and sat down on the bed. Jaden came over and joined me.

"So, that seems to have worked out…"

"Mitch?"

"Mom?" I said, tears in my eyes. She held out her arms and I ran over and embrace her.

"I thought…"

"Your father is on the skeptical side, but you know that. I want to get to know my daughter."

"You know me, mom."

"I know. But the fact that you are so easy in your skin suggests there are things I didn't know." She looked significantly at Jaden. I had to smile.

"This is Jaden. He's the EMT who found me at the impact site. He saved my life."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. O'Connell. Lilly," he said and nodded at me. I tensed minutely. I really didn't want him to go.

"Why don't you stay for a bit?" she said. "I'd like to get to know Lilly's boyfriend."

"Mom," I said blushing profusely.

"Only a boyfriend can affect a girl that intensely that they don't want him to leave."

I blushed harder and looked away from him, "I never said…"

"No, but you tensed. You're unsure of me, even if you're sure who you are, and he makes you feel safe. I get that. At the best of times your father makes me feel the same way. Even when I feel like killing him like right now."

I felt like my blush was never going away at this point. While I was still Mitch, mom was never this intense. She was never this open. This was probably the best thing to happen, this new relationship with my mom. I released my hold and she lets me go sit down on the bed.

"I prefer Flora, mom. Jaden just likes lilies. He even grows them."

"Well, an EMT and a florist."

"He's a doctor, actually. He's just doing a rotation as an EMT right now." I figured the whole story would complicate things, so I just left it at that.

"Well, three days as a girl and already landed a doctor. My Lilly always was an overachiever."

"Mom!"

"Don't you mom me. I changed your diapers young lady and you're not too old that I can't tease you about it."

I looked at her, exasperated at her behavior and she grins at me. You'd think she was a teenager from her behavior and not the sixty-year-old she really is.

"So, is your name Lilly now or Flora?"

"Apparently it's going to be Lilly Evangeline Flora O'Connell."

"At least until it becomes Lilly Evangeline Flora Pierce."

"Jaden"

"What no Mr. Cart-before-the-horse or something equally as charming?"

"You can't get exasperated with something charming, Mr. can't-keep-his-big-mouth-shut."

"You're engaged?"

"No, mom, but we certainly joke enough about it."

"How long have you two known each other?"

"Eighteen hours and about twenty minutes."

I looked over at him, shocked.

"I don't think he's going to forget any anniversaries."

I just nodded. There's nothing else I could say. He was perfect.

"Tell me now," I said, a concerned note in my voice, "you still live in your mother's basement."

"Nope, my mother is in the family home in Savannah."

"You don't sound like you're from the south."

"Nope, I don't like to sound like a Southern Gentleman." The last was said with the normal drawl I'd always associated with the south. I think he did it just to tease me.

"You're a serial killer."

"Not this week."

"Gay?"

"Hardly."

"Your teeth are fake?"

"Now you're just getting ridiculous."

"Come one, nobody's perfect. There has to be something wrong with you."

"I flirt with complete strangers," he said as he started to move closer to me.

"I'm fine with that," I said looking into his eyes.

"I'm frustrating every time I call you Lilly." He took a step closer to me.

I nodded, never once looking away. "I like when you call me Lilly even if I prefer Flora." I watched his kissable lips as he said his next statement.

"I work all night," He was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. My body answered by kicking the thermostat up a couple of notches.

"I'm an astronomer. So do I." I bit my lip. He's so close to me now.

He leaned in and almost whispered to me, "I'm impotent."

"Wait, what?"

"Kidding, I'm kidding."

I began beating him on the arm and my mom just laughed. "Not funny," I say with a smile.

"See, not perfect after all."

"Just where it counts," I muttered.

"I need to get some sleep. Are you going to be okay with your mom?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Night, Lilly. Night Mrs. O'Connell."

"Night, Prince Charming," mom said as he left the room. He laughed.

"I know, right?" I said seriously to my mom.

"You're always had a bit of a charmed life, haven't you?"

"I never found someone to share it with."

"That's because you were looking for it in the wrong place. If I were twenty years younger…" my mom said gazing off into space in the direction that Jaden left.

"Mom!"

"What? I can look, can't I? And he's pretty nice to look at."

I just nodded and sighed.

"They are showing Sleeping Beauty today and I was planning on watching that."

"That was your favorite movie growing up."

I was a bit confused, "No, it was Pinocchio."

"Oh, well, yes, when you realized you were stuck with what nature had given you, you went with Pinocchio, but you'd first fallen in love with the story of Sleeping Beauty. You told me that you hoped your prince charming would come someday and wake you like that. When I explained that you weren't a girl…you were heartbroken, that I can tell you."

"I don't remember that."

"We got you a copy of Pinocchio the next day. You calmed down and started living life again. I was so worried before that thinking I'd done something wrong. Seeing you now, maybe I did."

I remembered seeing Pinocchio for the first time. I'd watched enraptured at the promise that she'd given little Pinocchio. I remembered looking up at the stars that first night, seeing the first star of the evening, which happened to be Gamma Cygnus I'd later discovered, and wishing…

"I wish I were a real girl."

"What was that honey?"

I began to cry a little, "Mom…I wished I were a real girl. Even years later, every time I looked up at the stars, I was wishing something that I couldn't remember. I'd wished for the longest time that I could be a girl when I was little. I forgot about that. How could I forget that, mom?"

"Because I'd told you it was impossible and you loved me enough to believe me. I'm so sorry, honey."

"It's not your fault, mom."

"Well, I feel it is, so let me wallow for a minute or two."

"Wallow away," I said with a regal gesture.

We giggled at that and turned on the TV to the right station. I spent the next little while living the story of Sleeping Beauty like I had as a little girl…before I realized I wasn't a girl at all.

After it was over I sat quietly in the bed for a moment or two. "Mom…you know Jaden woke me up. I was out cold and he woke me. Not with a kiss or anything, but he did bring me to life in a sense."

"He really is your prince charming, isn't he?"

"I think he is," I said shedding a few tears.

"Well, then we'll just have to see about reeling him in."

"Isn't it up to the guy to propose and all that?"

"Usually, it is. Society is changing a little, but even if it never really accepts us taking an active role the girl still holds all the power. We just have to teach you how a girl goes about letting a guy catch her. Though, from the way you two act around each other, I have to admit you're a bit of a natural in that arena."

I smiled and blushed at the same time.

We spent time talking about mother-daughter stuff, mostly all the stuff I had to look forward to in my new body. Some I could live with. Some, on the other hand I would have to live with. I wasn't too worried about it because mom never had nasty periods, or so it seemed to me. I might have just been oblivious to it all being a boy. Well, a child with a boy's body.

Whatever the case, I hope it won't be a big issue. It would just mean that I can have children. The thought gave me pause. Before that moment, I'd thought about fathering children, sure. I'd thought about what would be necessary for me. I liked the idea of children in the abstract. Well, I should say before this I liked the idea in the abstract.

The idea excited me much the way that Jaden excited me. The thought of Jaden and children, or more specifically having Jaden's children, put me into this sort of timeless space. I could see the two of us, me breastfeeding a small thing with dark hair and then offering it to Jaden. Jaden smiled down at the child and I felt like my heart was about to burst with the very thought of it. I was crying in the bed and smiling and my panties were wet.

"Well, my dear, it seems that the plumbing works?"

"Plumbing?"

"Yes, you're aroused by something and ready for sex I should think."

"I'm…" my jaw dropped a bit and my eyes widen. That's what I had been feeling. It's the same and yet so much different from how it felt as a guy. You don't get the tightness in the pants, which is about all most guys, well me, notice. But there are other things: the shortness of breath, the racing heart, the increase in temperature as blood floods your extremities, and then there are the other things that guys just don't get. This feeling of emptiness that erupts inside, this need to join with the soul of another person, the wonder that they are reacting to you that makes you feel vulnerable and powerful all at the same time.

We talked about sex. Yes, it can be embarrassing, especially if you let preconceptions get it the way, but if you use it as a learning experience…

If you ignore for the moment the fact that she's talking about your dad, your mom can tell you a lot of things to try out, and a lot of things to avoid. She can tell you what works for a guy in general, and some things that seem to work only for a few guys.

"You had sex before dad?"

"I was young once too, Lilly."

"Flora…"

"I'm with Jaden on this one. I like Lilly better. Now, I don’t want you doing anything without protection and being on birth control."

"Isn't that redundant?"

"I had you while on the pill and your sister while using a condom."

I blinked a bit at that and blushed.

"Your dad is virile and I'm very fertile. You'll likely take after your sister and I."

"Jenny…"

"…had an abortion while in high school."

"She was on…oh..crap. So…both together…" I was feeling hot, and only part of it was because of embarrassment. This talk of condoms reminded me what goes in a condom.

"I'm so not old enough for this," I say continuing to blush.

"And how old should you have to be to deal with this?"

"At least three more weeks. Give me three more weeks and then we can talk about this again."

"With how that Jaden looks at you, I'm not sure we can wait three more days."

"And how does he look at me?"

"Like he's a hungry wolf and you're the last pork chop on the plate."

"Mom!"

"Well, it's true. And you look at him like you're dying of thirst and he's a lake of crystal blue water."

I couldn't argue with that so I didn't. I just smiled at her. "He's been spending all his free time with me."

"Yeah, we need to get you organized quickly."

Mom left the room at that point and I lay back on the bed. I stared at the ceiling while she was gone. Did it invalidate your whole life to realize why you'd begun doing something in the first place if that reason no longer holds true?

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized, I had been seeking the blue fairy all my life. It was in that moment that I thought the most terrifying thought that had ever occurred to me: What if my entire life for the past three days was nothing more than a coma dream?

I shivered and held myself. Before the thought occurred to me, I was happy. Now, however, it wouldn't go away. I examined and reexamined my life from every angle. How could you tell if a dream was your reality from inside the dream?

I felt a constriction in my chest, and breathing became hard. I just couldn't get enough air. There wasn't near enough air. My stomach felt as though it had fallen through the floor and was working its merry way to China. The room began to spin and I just held onto the railing and cried.

"I want this to be real," I said to myself over and over again.

"Doctor!" I heard my mother's voice yell.

"I was afraid this might happen," I heard the doctor say from a long way away. They talked about a lot of psychology stuff that I didn't really pay attention to. I heard a pleasant voice that wasn't the doctor's or my mothers. It was Jaden.

"Jaden," I said quietly, "Hold me please. If you don't hold me I'll fade away." I was crying as I said it. I didn't expect anything from it. I'd been mumbling to myself for a while now, but Jaden lifted me up and put me on his lap and just held me.

"Please, oh please, let this be real."

"It's real, Lilly. This is real. You're a real girl. I love you."

"You can't love me, Jaden. You don't know me yet."

"I know you have an active imagination. I know you love the stars. You are a Disney princess even though no one ever really let you be one growing up. You love flowers, but not as much as you love fruit trees. You prefer to be too hot to being too cold. You scrunch your nose up when you're thinking about something you don't like and you get a faraway wistful look in your eyes when you're thinking of something you do."

He took a deep breath and continued, "You love to look at me when you think I'm not looking. You care about your parents a lot, even when they turn their backs on you. You're a momma's girl, even if most girls prefer their daddies. You loved to work out. You love people watching. And one day, you hope to be able to name a planet after yourself. Personally I think Evangeline is a better name than Mitch for a planet."

"I never said…"

"Did I fail to mention that you talk in your sleep?"

"I…" I blushed and squirmed a little in his grasp.

"I stop in and watch you for a couple of minutes at a time during my shift. I love to watch you sleep. You are really cute although I can already imagine the bruises you'll leave me. You really toss and turn and flail a lot."

"You love me?"

"Yes, there has never been anyone like you."

I turned away from him and stared at the wall.

"Hey," he said, putting his finger on my chin. He turned my head gently until I was looking up at him. "I meant that as a good thing," he said gently. I looked at his lips and then at his eyes. I could feel something moving a bit under me. I hopped out of his lap when I realized what it was.

"Momma, about what we talked about earlier? How soon can we get that taken care of?"

I didn't move because it freaked me out. I moved because of the realization that it was turning me on. I was pacing a little trying to keep from leaping back into his arms, and he blushed looking embarrassed. Mom was laughing a little and so was Doctor Lewis.

"Jaden, I'm walking around right now because…" I wanted to continue, but it made me embarrassed. How does a girl tell a guy what I'm feeling without sounding like a slut? Does it matter if he's the only one who I want to give myself to?

"I'm over here with you over there because I don't want to get pregnant right now."

"You don't…" he looked confused for a moment or two and then it suddenly dawned on him what I was saying. "You mean that you, that I, that…Oh." He was grinning at me and I smiled back and sat on a chair as far from his as possible.

"So you like me?" He said with this little goofy grin.

"Well, you're not bad to look at. You really fill out your uniform well. Certain parts of your anatomy are more compelling than others right now."

"Like which parts?"

I blushed bright red. I realized at that point that mom isn't in the room anymore. Neither is Dr. Lewis. I closed the door and slowly walked over to him. It was really doing a number on my hips, walking like that, and he was staring at me, well my hips. I could feel myself becoming aroused. When I was a few steps away from him I leapt into his arms and put my legs around him. I could feel him growing between us and it gave a little friction to some of the new parts of me.

Then I was kissing him and nothing else really mattered.

When he went rigid I slipped of his lap and went and sat in my chair again. I think I'd been rubbing against him a little while we were kissing. He was this pretty shade of crimson and I just watched with a smile as he calmed down from the mutual high that we'd been moving toward.

"So, what do you think?" I said with a little smile.

"I think I know exactly what you were talking about. If you'll excuse me I have to go and get cleaned up a bit."

I just sighed and sat in my chair sort of relaxed with one foot on the seat. Yeah, I can't describe it well, but it's comfortable to me, especially with an arm wrapped around that leg and my head resting on my knee.

After he got out of my bathroom I went in and closed the door. I locked it and then got to the business of cleaning myself. It's not that I had a problem with what we did, but I want to be clean, and I don't really smell clean right now. Since my mom mentioned it, I realized that I have a scent when things begin to get going, and I wanted to smell fresh, even if that wouldn't last forever.

I was sure to see Jaden again and he just didn't allow me to stay at a nice quiet idle.

I to0ok a moment or two to gather myself and then opened the door. My mom handed me a pill and a glass of water.

"What's this?"

"Your first birth control pill."

"Oh," I said a little put out.

"They will only be effective after seven days, so until then…" Dr. Lewis says.

This was embarrassing and Jaden just laughed at me.

"You do realize, Mr. I-don't-have-to-worry-about-this-crap, that it means we don't get any sex for a week, right?"

He sobered immediately, but there was a gleam in his eye. He walked over to me and kissed me and then whispered in my ear, "It just means no penetrative sex for a week."

I looked up at him and smiled. "You are one baaad boy."

"And you're no sheep."

I realized in that moment that when Jaden was there, I had no fear of whether or not this was a dream. When Jaden was there, I knew this was reality. I realized I was completely screwed.

"Dr. Lewis," I said. "How come I can come with all this when Jaden is here, but not on my own?"

"I'm no psychological expert, but I think he grounds you in reality."

"That's an adequate description of what's going on," a woman said from the doorway.

"Dr. Janessa Endworthy," she said offering me a hand. I took it in one of mine and just barely gripped it.

"So, you're my patient, are you?"

I looked around at Dr. Lewis and then my mom, worried at what this meant.

"Don't worry. Dr. Lewis just called me in to consult. So, from what they tell me you are either suffering from a delusion that you are Mitch O'Connell, or you really were Mitch O'Connell and somehow, thought a process we don't yet understand you were changed into the little thing I see before me.

"Personally, I'd usually go with option A, since delusion is much more common, but from the description of your breakdown earlier, and this test you took, I'm keeping an open mind."

"Why would my breakdown make you believe me? Doesn't that mean my delusion might be breaking down?"

"Well, that's the interesting part. From what Dr. Lewis told me, you didn't start showing signs of being a young woman who had never been Mitch. You showed signs of rejecting that you had ever become a woman. In my mind that is a healthy attitude for someone to have who just spontaneously changed gender."

"I aim to please," I said with a little smile. I didn't much like this woman. She was one of those professionals that seem to believe that they know everything, and even when proven wrong they were right all along. I did my best to avoid them in my own field and didn't want to deal with them in another.

""I like you," Dr. Janessa said.

She spent some time talking to me on my own, and then talking to me with Jaden just sitting in the room. It was true that I felt a lot more comfortable with who I was when he was present. Without him I questioned all the choices I made, and even had difficulty coming to grips with what would happen in the future.

After a while, I realized that as long as I recognized that Jaden would be there for me, I could do this without him there.

It began to terrify me how much I was relying upon Jaden to keep me sane. When Dr. Janessa left, I confronted him about it.

"Jaden, I can't do this. I need some time to develop who I am as a person. If I have to lean on you the whole time how can I be a real person? What if you left me?"

"Never going to happen."

"What if you died?"

"You already died, Lilly. You have to believe that there is something after this life."

"I only know I was around my body after I passed. I don't know how long that would last."

"Lilly Evangeline Flora O'Connell, I will never leave you alone. I will follow you until your dying breath and meet you on the other side. Then, when you join me, we will spend an eternity together just watching the sunset and the stars come out. At that point I figure we'll have enough time for you to teach me all their names."

My heart stopped for a moment listening to him talk about an eternity with him. I could actually believe that he meant it. In that moment, I knew that he meant to live with me and die with me. He meant to be a part of my life forever.

Being a bit of a realist I knew that we never know what tomorrow brings, but it didn't matter. I truly believed that Jaden would find a way to make everything he said a reality.

"Raven, get your skinny little butt down here."

Sometimes, I really hate my mother. Don't get me wrong. She's a good mother. Serves on the PTA, drives me to soccer practice, or did drive me until the coach asked me not to come back…something about getting a red card in a game for kicking a boy in the crotch. Not that the little prick didn't deserve it. He called me a girl after all.

No, sorry, he said a played like a girl, which in my book is even worse.

"Mom, I've said this before, can't you call me Bran. I like it better."

"Short for Branwen?"

"No, short for Bran. It's a welsh name. It means raven, but it's less weird than being called…"

"Being called Raven? But your name is Raven."

"Only because you named me that. Dad wanted to call me Sarah."

"Sarah's such a plain name. Why don't you like Raven?"

"Seriously, Mom? I have to have a reason?"

"Fine, Bran, get your cute little butt down here."

Grr. I hated being cute more than I hated being called Raven. One of these days, I'd really show her. Staring at my face in the mirror I stuck out my tongue. Nope, more cute. If only…

Wishing never gets you anything.

It was one of my dad's favorite sayings. Well, half of it. More of a poem actually:
Wishing never gets you anything, they'd let you shirk the load. Dreams are just the start of the path and hard work paves the road.

Dad had a million of these, my favorite was: "To bed to bed," says Sleepy-Head. "Wait up," calls Slow. "Put on the pot," cries Greedy-Man, "Let's eat before we go."

Now, I don't know where he got them, but I would love to be able to ask. I can't. A drunk driver made that impossible for me.

Now, the real wish I had in my heart was not to be wearing this 'cute' skirt that mom insisted I wear today. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with the skirt. I just really hated it. I mean really hated it.

Let me put it another way: The skirt made me look like a girl. I wanted a pair of cargo pants, since at least they were sort of unisex. I mean, have you seen girl's jeans recently. It's like they want to give you a wedgie, or at least scream 'I'm female,' at the top of their denim filled lungs.

If I could fit my butt into a pair of guy's jeans, don't think I wouldn't. It would fit in with this carefully crafted guy persona I'm trying to…um…craft.

That was the stupidest sentence I think I've ever written. There are like these unwritten rules that say you're supposed to have variety and stuff…okay, maybe they're written down somewhere. I don't know. School and I don't get along real well. Thankfully most of them think I'm a girl, so I get through without some of the real torment that a lot of the boys get from the bullies.

Let me rephrase that: I just have to deal with the emotional bullying.

Some of it hurts, but when Cindy Cheerleader says, for the eighth time this week, "You dress like a boy," it's the best I can do not to preen a little bit, nod my head, and say, "yep, and your point is?"

I don't say anything because it's kind of nice to get compliments, even when people mean them as insults.

I still get to deal with all this crap, and the people who think I should be in home-ec instead of the metal shop. Let's take a step back for a moment here people. We're living in a new millennium. The '50s are more than fifty years ago. Come on!

Too bad the teacher won't let me craft a sword.

It would only be a mockup anyway. Real swords are forged, not die punched or cut out.

Yeah, but I'm not at school right now. Right now, I want to go to the Renaissance Faire. Mom has been trying to get me to go for a while now. She's really big into the whole dressing up thing. I think she was into theater in college or something.

Jeeze! Did she have to put me into this outfit? I look like a friggin bar maid.

Well, I would if I had any cleavage to talk about, for which I will be forever thankful.

Mom doesn't think so, but I think she has great genetics. She was in a sub A bra until her eighteenth birthday when she got, 'some work done' as she puts it.

She was straight as a rail and flat as a board until then. Sure, I'd love to bulk up a bit in the shoulders, but hell, I'll take what I can get.

She's got curves now, thanks to giving birth to me and her implants, but I'm just as glad that I don't. She keeps threatening me with getting work done. I just shudder when she's not looking.

At least when I'm eighteen and she could legally get me under a knife I will be consenting for myself, or not in this case.

I get an evil idea, so I grab my money and head downstairs.

"I'm ready to go, mom."

"No makeup?"

"Peasants didn't wear makeup, mom."

That's one of the things I hate about my face. It is on the girl side of androgynous right now. If I put any makeup on it…well, there's no androgynous, just girl side at that point.

Finally, we're out the door and driving the three hours to get to the faire grounds.

For some reason, mom doesn't let me drive any more. I've never gotten in an accident, but that doesn't matter to mom. It's the fact that I can squeeze our whale of an SUV into two feet of clearance either side while traveling at over ninety miles an hour.

Let's be honest here for a moment. It's not that I can do so, it's that I have done so…with mom in the car.

So, what would have been, at most, a two hour drive with me behind the wheel is a three hour drive with mom there. I stare out the window doing my best impression of a teenager.

I have a pixy cut hairstyle. I wanted to get a boy's haircut, but mom drew the line at a pixie cut. I go back to get my hair trimmed every week, and it is barely longer than a buzz. Mom can't really say anything about it, as I haven't yet buzzed it, and I haven't gotten it in a more masculine style.

"You know, most girls your age have their ears pierced."

"Mom…"

"I know honey, but could you at least consider it?"

"Mom…" I want to tell my mom who I really am. I've made hints at it in the past. I really try to tell her I'm not a girly girl. What I mean is I'm not a girl. Sure, it's obvious to everyone reading this stream of consciousness.

I don't talk much to my mom. We just don't seem to get along.

We got to the faire and the location just opened up before me. Except for the people walking around in street clothes, it felt almost like a renaissance village. Sure, I knew there would be inaccuracies, since it is a 'for profit' venture, but it was fun anyway.

As soon as my mom was focused on a show being put on, I slipped away to go look at the vendor booths. I was looking for something in particular, and I really hoped I could find it.

Mom required I wear a skirt. I was going to find some more appropriate clothing.

"You know, boys shouldn't wear dresses," said a voice behind me.

"Hence the reason I'm looking for a change of costume," I said as I turned around.

"Oh, sorry," the teen said, blushing.

"For what?" I asked.

"I thought you were a boy. I was wrong. Daniel," he said offering his hand.

"Bran," I say taking it. Just for the fun of it, I apply some pressure. Not a lot, but enough so he knows I have a good handshake. He smirks and applies more.

Oh…it's on. "I do a lot of work with my hands. There's a lot of bending and shaping in metal shop, and I use my dad's old weight set in the garage a lot. No, it's not easy like it would be for a boy of my age, but I've been able to add some muscle. I have a good grip.

Putting a smirk on my face, I slowly begin to build pressure on his hand. I can see the sweat breaking out on his forehead, but he doesn't want to let up. So, I kick in into overdrive and I can feel the bones in his hand begin to flex.

"Enough, enough. Alright already."

"You were right the first time." I say with a smile.

"Wow, you have some grip there, Bran."

"I know. The other guys in metal shop use me as a mobile hand clamp when they need that extra bid of stability."

Daniel colors a bit. I have to think about it for a moment and then it dawns on me what he's thinking. I punch him in the arm. "That's just sick, man,"
He stood there, rubbing his arm, "man, you can hit."

"Thanks, so, you look like you work here; think you can help me find a change of clothes, since 'boys don't wear dresses'?"

He nodded at me, and gesture for me to follow him. "Sorry about the earlier comment. I thought I'd have a little fun at someone's expense. I didn't mean anything by it."

"And think if it were someone like me, only with the opposite problem."

"Come again?"

"A kid born a boy, but knowing deep inside that she was female her entire life. They'd already have to be out here in the public eye. There you'd be, insulting her because of nature's little joke."

"I never really thought about it that way."

"That's because Mother was nice to you."

"I don't understand..."

"Your mind matches your package."

He snorted a bark of laughter which I join in on. As we walked, I began to hear the clash and clang of metal on metal and I began to get a little excited. This was one of the main reasons I'd wanted to come to the faire in the first place. We came around a tent, and there it was, my heart's desire.

There were a couple guys in leather armor swinging at each other with bastard swords...

Alright, so I'm going to use some technical terms here, and I hope you'll bear with me. Let me explain a little bit about the history of the European, or western, sword. It is important to the story, because I get into sword fights. For those who don't care and want to get back to the story, skip to the ---

A western sword is a club with an edge and a point. It is meant to smash at your opponent, originally in heavy metal armor, until he submits. Knives, especially the famous stiletto, were meant to subtly bypass the armor through one of the openings in the joint. A sword was a man's weapon.

They were usually an inch to an inch and a half wide.

There were primarily two types of swords: One handed and two handed. A one handed sword was designed for use with a shield in the other hand. You used it for attack only, as the shield was your defense.

The styles using these types of swords emphasized the striking capabilities of the sword and the striking and blocking capabilities of the shield.

Oh yes, Europeans fought dirty. Nut shots were considered a normal part of the field of battle, if you could get them.

Two handed swords were longer, heavier, and obviously over compensating for some lack of the wielder. They were used for attack and defense in both hands.

That doesn't mean that both hands always remained on the hilt. When you're wearing metal gauntlets you don't have to worry about cutting yourself. Sometimes, you would be smashing the heavy pommel into people's helmets.

A one handed sword has speed and accuracy on its side, as well as the ability to use a shield. A two handed sword has the strength of both arms behind it and is pure, unadulterated power.

Enter the bastard sword. It is so called because it is the bastard offspring of a one handed sword and a two handed sword. Also called a hand and a half sword, it is light enough to be used with one hand, but the hilt is big enough to allow the use of two hands.

In the renaissance, swords made a change, for the worse in my opinion, when men stopped wearing armor. They narrowed down into the half an inch saber, or the long knitting needle of the foil.

They reintroduced 'normal' width blades in the midst of this sword reform. That's what became known as a 'broad' sword. It was nothing more than the inch to an inch and a half like in the medieval period.

There are four types of shields I'll mention: Tower, Kite, target and Buckler.

A tower shield is a tall rectangular shield. It was first used by Romans in the phalanx, or their almost unbreakable formation. It's good for a nice infantry shield wall, but impractical on horseback.

The Kite shield is the biggest shield that is usable from horseback. It is the 'traditional' shield people think of when they think knights. It's also the shield used in coats-of-arms.

A target shield is a round shield. Often these are two and a half to three feet in diameter, although the Spartan shields were bigger.

A buckler is a small round shield strapped to the forearm, usually no larger than a foot in diameter.

---
These weren't actors doing some choreography. This was sweaty, muscle and steel, trying to kill each other intensity.

"Like what you see?" Daniel whispered from behind me.

"Actually, green over there seems to be swinging a little wide. He's putting too much force into his blows. If his opponent were in plate armor, it would make sense. Problem is, with him in leather, he doesn't even need half that force."

"Oh, really. Think you can do better?"

"Get me in a proper pair of trousers, and I'll do my best."

He laughed and led me over to a tent on the side.

"Gregor, this is Bran. He wants to be properly attired."

"Bran, huh. The raven. I like it." I blushed. I'd never had anyone compliment my guy name before and couldn't help it. Damn these female hormones. Give me testosterone any day.

"So, tired of dressing in Drag, huh Bran. I get that. Which team we putting him on?"

"Team?" I say, confused.

"He thinks he can do a better job than Sam, so let's go Woodsmen."

Gregor sized me up and tossed a stack of clothing in forest green at me. "The organizers have a problem with us getting naked in the street, so you can get dressed in the tent. Need any help getting out of your dress?"

"I'll manage," I said with a smirk, "I prefer women anyway."

It was Gregor's turn to blush.

I laughed as I walked to the tent. I shed the dress and dropped it in the corner. In the midst of the clothing I found a bandage. I sighed a 'thank you' and wrapped it around my chest. With that secured I put on the shirt, jerkin and leggings.

I didn't like how smooth I was below, so I rolled up my stockings, yes mom had insisted, and stuffed them down there. It was smaller than I'd have liked, but I could live with it.

I walked out to the waiting Daniel. His gaze got stuck on my crotch.

"See something you like?" I said, throwing his words back at him.

Gregor pounded him on the back and said, "Welcome to my side of the tracks. I knew you'd come around eventually." I just smiled at Gregor. I think I could come to like this guy.

Daniel led me to the practice arena.

"What's this about a team?"

"We're...a competitive organization of a sort."

"Organization?"

"EHA: Enhanced History Association."

"Enhanced...."

"We're a LARP group."

"Ok, now I'm really lost."

"Live Action Role Play. You know. Elves and magic in the forest."

"Wait...you mean like that 'lightning bolt' video?"

Daniel blushed a bit, "something like that...but not exactly. We actually believe in full contact play, which most groups are afraid of. We require people to be at least eighteen, or seventeen with a parent's permission."

"Kinda like the army, huh."

Daniel smirked at this, "Yeah, kinda like."

"Shouldn't be a problem, provided I can convince my mom. Girls participate in this as well?"

"Thought you were a boy."

"Not according to 'mommy dearest'," I say with a smirk.

He laughs at that and responds, "Yes, there are some girls."

"Good, eye candy."

"You have no idea," he says with a knowing glint in his eye.

We get to the arena and Daniel calls out, "Sam, we have fresh meat who thinks they can do better than you."

He looks over at me, sizes me up and down, and then sighs, "The shrimp is welcome to try. I need a break anyway."

Our local Y used to offer fencing classes. I took them until they started to feel a little tame to me. I tried kendo, but had the same problem. They were for show or 'competition'. There was none of the visceral feel I wanted.

So, I took to watching a lot of training videos, and practicing in my off time in the garage, when I wasn't just working out.

"Take it easy on the new guy," I said as I walked over to take the sword from Sam. The first thing I noticed was it was a lot lighter than I'd expected. I was used to practicing with a metal bar about three feet in length. This was a little longer, but not even in the same realm of weight.

The balance was different as well. It seemed to be turning closer to the hilt than the middle. I took a couple of practice swings, and watched my opponent surreptitiously.

He was looking at my butt. What is it with these guys?

I turned my latest test swing into a slash at his head. It wasn't a wild slash by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a bit wide, intentionally.

He brought his sword up quickly, a bit too quickly. I brought my off hand to the hilt and used it to pull the swing down. At the last second I flipped the sword sideways and the flat of the blade slammed into his ribs.

"Oh, by the way, are these swords sharpened?"

My opponent was cradling his ribs a bit. I might have hit him a little hard.

"Get her some armor," my opponent called out to the sidelines.

"I'm a boy, you twit."

"Sure you are, and I'm..."

I didn't allow him to finish the statement. I swung at him again. He brought his sword up a little slower and allowed my blade to crash into his. He had a one handed grip on it, so I locked guards with him. He smiled at me as he slowly began to push my blade away. I shifted my hips and punched him.

"That's not fair," Sam yelled from the sidelines.

My opponent rubbed his jaw, "Not bad," he said.

"For a girl," I sneered.

"For anyone. You right handed?"

I nodded.

"Then I don't want to be hit by that one."

"Get this guy some armor," he called out again. "Aragorn," he said saluting me with his sword.

"Bran," I said, doing the same.

They got some armor for me, and put it on. While they were outfitting me, 'Aragorn' talked.

"First, a few rules: No attacking the head or neck. No attacking the groin. All other areas are allowable. The blades are blunted, but at the speed you're swinging I'd appreciate the flat to the edge, if you can keep pulling it."

I blushed a bit, and he continued, "Punches in allowable areas are acceptable, although I think you're the first person I know of who actually mixed sword and fist."

"Actually..."

"I meant in our group, sorry. Go again?"

I smiled and attacked. This wasn't a showy clashing of blades. I like to think I was brutal, but Aragorn was nothing if he didn't do the same. The armor was padded, a little, but that didn't stop me from feeling the few glancing blows that he got through.

My blows that hit weren't glancing.

Yes, there were problems with my style. That happens when you're teaching yourself. The thing is I think I had a better killer instinct than Aragorn did. This was a game for him. It was deadly serious to me.

Swords were meant to kill people. That was their intent. This was just practice for that.

Halfway through our sparring session, I was outfitted with a pair of tight leather gloves. No, not to protect Aragorn. I'd split a couple of my knuckles by that point, so they were to protect me.

"Ok, I've had enough. Sam, you want back in with your team-mate here?"

"Oh no, that guy's insane," Sam said with a smile and Daniel laughed.

"So, what's up with this team's thing?"

"Well, we're taking part in the joust later today. A four way skirmish with the SCA pukes. They claimed that none of us really know how to fight."

"A four way skirmish...how does that prove..."

"Well, the skirmish is usually a 4 team affair. They gave us two of them this time."

"Ok...how do we determine we're taken out?"

"Painted edges."

"You said..."

"Only when sparring with me, Bran," Aragorn said with a guffaw of laughter.

"What's your real name?"

"I'll tell you as soon as you tell me yours."

"Fine," I looked around a bit and then said, "Raven."

"You're kidding me."

I walked over to where I'd left my pile of clothing and retrieved my license. I showed it to him.

"Well, a deal's I deal, I guess. My name's Franklin."

"Not Frank?"

He shuddered. "God no."

I laughed.

"You're kind of cute in this picture."

Mom had insisted I get my makeup and hair done professionally before I got my license. I hated the picture. I snatched it out of his hand.

"You're not my type."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, you're not a redhead with a great rack."

The audience snorted and snickered.

"Well, you're not my type either. I like girls."

I couldn't help it. I smiled. This guy was really kinda cool.

"Although, if you looked like this picture..."

And then again...I punched him.

"No one will ever accuse you of hitting like a girl."

We all laughed for a minute or two.

"Seriously, though, we need your mom to sign your waiver, since you can't."

"You want me..."

"To take part in the Grande Melee, yes."

I picked up my dress and purse...yuck...

"Here," Daniel said as we began to walk. It was a small pouch. "Tie it to your belt."

I did, and realized it was just big enough to hold the essentials from my purse: a tampon, my money, and my ID.

The other guys looked at me weird when I put the tampon in there.

"Want to make something of it?" I said with a scowl.

They all shook their heads and I smiled, "Good answer."

It was kind of cool walking around with the EHA group. We bowed to the people as we walked past. Aragorn was wearing his sword. Sam was wearing the one I'd borrowed from him. Even Daniel was wearing a sword.

Oh well. Maybe after I got my mom to sign the waiver.

There were some cheers as we went past from some of the vendors. Aragorn waved at them.

"Are the SCA folks the bad guys in this?"

"In a manner of speaking," Daniel replied, "They're the aggressor. We're protecting the interests of the common folk."

"Speak for yourself, King's man," Sam said.

For the first time I noticed that Daniel was in the same reddish brown as Aragorn. "So, we're woodmen, I think I heard Gregor say."

Sam scowled, "If the silly faire would let me wear my ears..."

"It wasn't the faire, Sam. You know it was the SCA. They felt it detracted from the melee."

"We're elves," Sam said.

"Elves..."

"We're the People of the Greenwood; sworn enemies of humanity. The King's men have been encroaching on our lands for generations and we're fighting back."

"This is that role-play thing?"

"Doesn't he know anything?"

"He knows how to fight, and he looks more elfin that you do," Daniel said with a grin.

I laughed and Sam just scowled.

"Ok, EHA has three primary races in it. There are Elves, Faeries and Humans."

"Fairies? Like little figures with wings?"

Daniel laughed, "No, the people of Fae. F, A, E."

"Ok, so more Oberon and less butterflies."

"I like this gi...I mean guy. I like this guy."

"I thought that Fae encompassed the elves..."

That little comment started a long argument between Daniel and Sam about that very subject. The gist of it was the Elves in the EHA world were natural beings, and the Fae were beings of magic. It took them a half hour to get to that point. The entire time we continued to look for my Mom.

"Raven?"

"Hi mom," I said turning around. I handed her my dress. "Could you take that to the car?"

Her mouth was open as she took me in.

"Bran wants for you to sign a waiver so he can participate in the Grande Melee."

"Bran..?"

"Mom, will you sign my waiver for me?"

"I think we need to have a talk first young...man."

She took me to the side and looked me up and down. "So, you're a boy, are you?"

"It's not just a costume, mom. I've tried to tell you so many times. I really don't think I'm a girl. I've tried to be, but I like to get my hands dirty. I like to build and destroy. I like to be loud, and brash, and forceful."

"Women can be..."

"I don't feel like a woman, mom. I hate my breasts."

"Honey..."

"I'm not a girl, okay."

"You don't have to wear makeup if you don't want to."

"This isn't about makeup, mom. This is about who the world sees me as."

"But, can't you..."

"You know the real reason I wanted to come here? I thought they might have a blacksmith for some reason. That is more than an actor would do. I want to learn to forge my own swords."

"You want...to be a blacksmith?"

"Yes, mom. I want to be a blacksmith, and not in a Knight's Tale female blacksmith sort of way."

"Is there money in that?"

"I don't know, but there would have to be. Have you seen the prices that authentic weapons and armor go for online?"

"No..."

"A lot. I've seen full, custom made suits of armor for more than three thousand."

"But I'm sure..."

"These were mass produced reproductions."

"We'll talk about you becoming a professional blacksmith later. A boy, huh."

I just nodded.

"That explains the red card." she said. I looked away. She'd heard what the kid said to me, and was really upset about my 'over reaction' as she saw it.

We walked back over to the guys.

"What is this Grande Melee?"

"It's pounding on each other with swords," I said blithely.

"In its most basic for, yes, that is what it is," Aragorn said.

My mom really looked at Aragorn for the first time. Something in her eye made me was to re-examine him. He wasn't too old, maybe mid thirties. I knew from personal experience he was strong. But, mom wasn't seeing him how I did.

Sure, he was handsome, I guess, but was that any reason for mom to look at him like he was a drop of water in the desert and she was dying of thirst?

"This isn't safe no matter what we say. There are rules, and a few precautions, but there are injuries every year, which is the reason you have to be at least seventeen and sign a waiver. You'd have to sign for Bran if he is going to participate."

Mom nodded at what he said and then tore her eyes away to look at me, "You sure you want to do this, sweetie."

"Hell, yes." I said with a feral grin.

"Honey, language."

"Sorry, mom."

"Fine, if you think she...he is good enough to be in this..."

"Your son is better at this than I am," Aragorn said.

"No, I'm just..."

"Bran, stow the false modesty. You kicked my but soundly, and if we'd been using real blades I'd be dead. You might be injured, but I wouldn't be breathing."

I blushed and mom looked at me with an appraising look.

"Well, if my son's that good then I want to see him in action," there was a double meaning to her words that I couldn't fail to miss. She wanted to see what having me as a son would be like. It felt like the bottom fell out of my stomach for a moment. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders.

"Ok, mom," and then I began to grin.

We walked back to the tent and mom signed the necessary paper work, which Gregor notarized. They really wanted to do everything right. I noticed that there was a place on the form for my real name as well as my game name. Well, it wasn't a legal document, but I'd just changed my name for real with these guys.

They outfitted me with a sword belt, sword and sheath.

"You want a shield?"

"He can't punch someone if he has a shield."

"I could go for a buckler."

"I'll keep that in mind, for right now we don't have any, and I don't have the materials to make one."

By this point it was getting closer to the time when they'd have the Grande Melee, so mom headed toward the stands, and I went with the others to the staging area.

"Who's this," a grey haired man said. He was skinnier than I was, taller too. His ears were slightly pointed.

"My Lord Adrondel, this is Bran. He has come to join us in our fight this day."

"Well met, Bran. Can you use that sword at your hip?"

"So it has been said," I say, trying to get into the character of the speech.

"But what say you?"

"Let me be proved in battle."

"You vouch for him, Eolmir?" Adrondel asked Sam.

"I do, Lord."

"Then let him prepare himself."

I looked around and noticed there were a couple of girl with us in the ranks. They wore short skirts over their leggings. I'd wondered why the Lord had treated me as a man, now I knew. His ears weren't prosthetics. He took this 'way' too seriously in my opinion. And he treated me as my costume required.

We exchanged our blunted swords for swords with a foam rubber edge. I pressed the edge and green paint seemed to well out of the seeming cut on my finger. I wiped it off on a rag and went and got ready for the charge.

This would be fun, I thought as I waited for the horn to sound.

When it did, chaos ensued. Red and green had been facing each other. Blue and yellow were at our right and left.

We clashed in the middle and swords started flying. We'd planned on holding formation and working as a team. I did my best to wait for people to make their way to me. I was stuck in the middle of the line with Sam...Eolmir I mean and Adrondel.

Eventually, as our line lost people and it began to curl around the back, I begin to face off against people. None of them were in red. I'm not saying that none of the King's men attacked the People of the greenwood. No, they were avoiding me, actively. Apparently Aragorn had let people know that I was a force to be reckoned with. One of the King's men saw he was about to face me and backed up...right into one of the yellow's sword. I began to grin at the thought.

Then, the last man to my right was gone. I turned my back to Lord Adrondel and faced a seeming sea of yellow.

There isn't any point trying to relate the exact things I did, the moves I made, the counters I almost missed.

One by one I whittled down my opponents. At some point Eolmir and Adrondel joined me.

Most of our opponents were pitiful, especially since they were trying to overwhelm us with numbers.

We ended up back to back again, but there were fewer for me to deal with at that point. There were only three in front of me when I took a blow hard enough to leave paint on my armor.

"Shit," I said and fell out of formation.

Eolmir and Adrondel had taken out their portions, and quickly dispatched the three I'd been facing.

A cheer went up from the stands.

"People of the Greenwood have taken the field." Called out an announcer I'd been unable to hear from the staging area.

"Come, victors, and accept your spoils."

We walked forward, and I got a number of slaps on the back.

"You fight like hell itself."

"Next time I'm facing you, I'm running the other way," another said holding his ribs.

There were more comments made, some of them unflattering, but overall they made me feel accepted, and they didn't once treat me like a girl.

I got in the shower, for once satisfied with the way my body looked. Would I have liked to have more muscle mass? Sure, but the bruises that covered a good portion of me were just awesome.

Those marks on my skin made me feel alive.

I scrubbed them, relishing in the ache. No scents, no perfumes, nothing in my soaps and shampoo. I didn't want to smell girly.

I scrubbed myself dry. It let me rough up my skin again, even if it did feel like sand paper.

Mom was waiting for me downstairs, but I wasn't in any rush. I dressed in a pair of pants. I looked at my chest in the mirror.

I'd liked how I looked in the tunic, so I went back into the bathroom and grabbed an athletic bandage. I tied my small buds down and went back to my room. I had a unisex tee-shirt in my closet and put it on.

There was enough trepidation in me to go to the top of the stairs and stop. I took a deep breath, and tromped downstairs.

"So, Bran…a boy?"

"Yes, Mom."

"How do you know?"

"How do you know you're a girl?"

"I am a girl," mom said with a smile.

"How do you know?"

"I have breasts and a…"

"And if you didn't, how would you know?"

"You're too young to make this sort of decision. I've seen the sort of changes those hormones will do to your body."

"Huh?"

"I looked it up, Raven."

"Bran."

"Your name is Raven."

"Mom, if we visit a therapist, together, and he agrees with me, will you start calling me Bran? Will you listen to me on this one?"

"If you do this, you'll never have children."

I couldn't help it. I shuddered and dry heaved. I tried to sit up…and I dry heaved again.

"Having a period is bad enough, and you want me to do…that? There are only two ways I know of to get pregnant, mom, and one of them means allowing some other guy to stick his d…penis inside me. Not going to happen."

"Sure, artificial insemination is an option for that…but still. No. It is wrong on so many levels."

"It's normal, Raven."

"Not for me. Can't you get that?"

"Fine, I'll find you a therapist, but I'm going to find you a female one."

"I don't want to talk to a woman about being a guy."

"Well, we don't always get what we want, Raven. That's part of being an adult, and it's about time you realized it. Some day you'll thank me for this."

"Not likely," I muttered as I went out to the garage.

I stood in front of my training dummy, thinking about the Grande Melee yesterday. That last guy…

I imagined how he came at me, and tried to form a response that didn't leave me with a yellow mark on my armor over my heart. To say it was hard was an understatement.

---
Technical jargon time.
Ok, so it's not really technical. It just delves into areas that are more history weapons geek than most people want to see in a nice pseudo fantasy drama story. I get that. Skip to the end. I use the same markings as last time.

There has been an argument among sword wielders for centuries over which a sword is meant for: thrusting or slashing.

There have been some wonderful examples of each. Some swords, like the katana and all its variants, which were not meant for stabbing, but could be used so in a pinch. Some, like cavalry sabers, were meant to only slash at an opponent. The epee, foil, and other such early renaissance weapons were crafted without an edge. Fencing, the sport that grew out of those swords, is a point only sport. Watch it sometime if you don't believe me.

Now, the bastard sword I was using has a point. The problem is that you really use all its power when you thrust with it, even if you use both hands. That's the reason that I've always favored an edge style over a point style: more power.

Yesterday, I lost because I always imagined my opponents doing the same. All my blocks, parries, riposte and otherwise were practiced with that in mind. My failure to adapt was what got me killed.

Sure, I'd lasted right to the very end of the Grande Melee, and my soaking up opponents probably helped Eolmir and Adrondel to win. Adrondel is really good, and while Sam seemed to be struggling with a single opponent, he was a lot better against two or three. I guess it really depends on what you've spent your time practicing on.

If I'd thought about an opponent thrusting at me, I might have some way to protect against it, but that wasn't the real problem. Like most talented beginners, I fell into the trap of assuming I was better than I actually was. In a duel situation, I'd likely win every time, as I was the aggressor, and I set the pace of the fight. If they're not able to set up their moves, then they don't happen.

In a battle, like the one we experience, I was at a disadvantage when we were outnumbered. I had to let my opponents come to me, so while I picked the ground of our battle, they got the first strike…

But my practice only let me be the aggressor since a dummy can't fight back.
---
I affixed a small locking weight to the end of the rod I normally used for practice with some duck tape to change the balance to be closer to what I'd experienced yesterday and I began imagining how I would deflect a thrust away from my body.

Well, let me keep is a little misleading. I'd purchased the clothing I wore. The sword was a bit outside the range of what I'd brought with me, and I'd apparently have to purchase two, so I grabbed my cash and other essentials and put them into my belt pouch.

My other new purchase was sitting on my dresser. I applied the glue to the inside edge and then pressed it into place. When I was sure of the fit, I took the other one and repeated the process.

They felt weird, gently swinging there. I turned my head left and right a little to get a better view: I now had elf ears.

And you, my audience, need to get your minds out of the gutter.

Mom was letting me drive. No, not the SUV, mores the pity, but the small sub-compact that generally hid in the garage so the bigger, better looking, cars couldn't see it.

It was rusting in a couple of spots, but at least it worked.

I tossed my backpack into the back seat and pulled out of the driveway. I did my best not to piss the other drivers off. For some reason, call it fear of being driven over, I drove differently behind the wheel of this car than I did when I drove the SUV. I was confident and capable driving the SUV. I was timid and careful in this little rust bucket.

I got onto the freeway and drove up into the mountains. The directions I'd gotten from Google maps were pretty specific, and they were easy to follow.

The trees were green. Not like your normal green color, but a serious, in your face, I am Life sort of green. I'm sure that they'd been this green before, but I don't think I ever really looked at them before.

You know how it is; something happens to you, and suddenly you're looking at the world through entirely new eyes.

This was the sort of thing that I was going through now.

Mom was a girly girl. Before you consider it, this wasn't just me pushing against mom and deciding I was a boy out of an act of rebellion. I know I could just be a tomboy. That's just not enough for me.

So, I'd wanted to go camping in the past, and the closest I ever got was a tent in the living room made out of bed sheets.

I'd tried girl scouts...but I never really fit in with them for some reason. Go figure.

So, here I would be actually camping in the woods for the weekend. That made the forest around me look so different, and so much more inviting. My smile just refused to go away.

The entry area was a mess of people greeting each other. I only actually knew five people. I recognized more than that. Some of them were King's men I'd faced off against. Some of them were my fellow People of the Greenwood.

That's when a fireball erupted off to the right. It wasn't big, maybe a foot or two, but it was a fireball. The person who threw it was wearing some of the most elaborate makeup I'd ever seen.

It had a stage quality to it, mostly in silvers and blues, but it was a guy who was wearing it. As I watched, he made a throwing gesture and another fireball flew from his hand.

"Impressive, isn't it, Bran?"

"Hey, Eolmir. Who or what is that?"

"Faerie. They use magic in combat."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not really. Been singed a couple of times, but they're professionals. Stunt men and women, most of them, who want to have a little fun. One guy only uses a burning hands 'spell'. Scares the crap out of you the first time he does it, let me tell you. It was at night my first time, and all I saw were these disembodied flaming hands coming for me."

"Really?" I was smiling. This was more than I'd ever expected coming out here.

---
Yes, a side talk for a moment, this time about LARP.

I'd done some research before I went out the first weekend to the EHA event. No, I wasn't able to find anything about EHA, which reason becomes evident later in the story. I was able to find a lot about LARP including a number of videos. In general, LARP uses foam weapons and balls of birdseed to simulate attacks.

You can't physically touch anyone. You can't punch. The bags of birdseed are 'magic'. Mostly, it's a lot of calling out what your attacks are.

Don't get me wrong. If that had been what it would be, I had no problems with it. I was never a person to lack imagination.
---

Eolmir and I went through the check in desk. I paid my fee by check. My mom had agreed to pay for the entire session. That means that I wouldn't have to worry about paying my fee for the next six months.

The good thing about the fee was it covered meals and other sundry items. The bad thing was that it cost a pretty penny. If I wanted to keep doing this, I'd have to find a job just to pay for my fee, not to mention the other items I'd need to participate like costumes and so on.

I was through the tables with various cards I would need clipped to my belt. Eolmir soon joined me with a similar clip of cards.

I followed him into the woods, and everything seemed to change for me. Eolmir was no longer just walking through the forest. He had a hand on his sword to keep it out of the brush and he was stalking. I did my best to emulate his movements, but I felt like a bull in a china shop. I'm sure I sounded like one.

Eolmir, on the other hand, had practice with this. I couldn't hear a single one of his steps.

A couple of female elves stepped out from behind a tree and pointed arrows at us. My breath caught in my chest. The one on the right was hot. Sure, her hair was dyed red, but it was still red hair. She had curves that would have been visible from space, and the outfit she was wearing hugged them like a lover's caress.

I think my mouth hung open.

"Bran, it's rude to stare." Eolmir said.

"Sorry, it's just that never have I seen a maiden as fair as that. I felt it necessary to worship as she must needs be a goddess."

The girl blushed and her bow dropped 'til it pointed at the ground. Her companion glared at me.

"Would you mind not hitting on my girlfriend," said the brunette, who now had her arrow pointed at my crotch."

"Your...I'm so sorry. I guess all the really pretty ones are taken," I said looking her right in the eye. Then I winked.

I had no idea what had come over me. I was never this forward anywhere else. I felt empowered, and it was really something for me. I knew these two women were in a relationship, but that didn't change anything. I loved to flirt, apparently.

"Better be careful with this one, Eolmir, it would seem he could get a river to change its bed just by applying his silver tongue."

"Talking is not the only action to which my tongue is adapted."

The redhead giggled a bit and the brunette blushed again.

"Girls, before we let this get too much further, Bran is seventeen."

"Damn," said the redhead. "He almost made me consider..." then she looked embarrassed and looked at her girlfriend.

"I thought I was the only one. Wow. You're dangerous little man."

"I'm in transition, actually."

"Do you really want..."Eolmir began

"Better than someone finding out later and getting bend out of shape. I was born female. I'm becoming male."

The redhead began to laugh a bit and her girlfriend joined in with her a moment or two later.

"My real name is Kevin," said the redhead in a deeper male voice and I just stared at her. "I just play a woman at these events."

"No way..." I said, unable to match what my eyes saw with what she...he...whatever was telling me.

"You make a very convincing male elf, though, Bran. I would never have guessed," she said, going back into her higher and much more feminine voice.

"Yes, we have some genetic males here who have a very similar look."

I smiled at the two, realizing that they accepted me for who I was. Of course, could I really expect any less from a beautiful transvestite and her girlfriend?

They went back into character at that point, bringing their arrows to bear upon us.

"Who have you brought with you today, Eolmir?"

"Just a new recruit, Alundra. I found him wandering lost in the woods and figured, as he was an elf and not a man, that he would be a great supporter to our cause."

"If he'd been a man, we'd have had to kill him," Red said.

"I'd already have taken care of that, Gwendara."

"Pass. Lord Adrondel has been asking for you." Alundra said.

We walked past the two elven maidens. I kept expecting the camp to come into view. It never did. The problem was I was looking at the ground, and not up into the trees.

Forty or fifty feet may not seem like a lot when laid out on the ground. Straight up, it means something.

We got to the rope ladder and I looked up. I'd expected to be camping, but this was something else entirely. There were walkways and platforms suspended from the trees. None of them were redwoods, so it never got above about twenty feet above the ground, well at least the bases of the platforms didn't, but it was something to see. It was a tree city, and it was awesome.

The ropes and chains were well oiled, so there was only a slight creaking noise as I moved across the entry bridge. I'd mistaken it for the sound of the trees of the forest while we'd been walking.

It was strange, but the other elves didn't talk much. We greeted each other with gestures. Some of what they were doing reminded me of ASL. It seemed I had a lot to learn before I was truly ready to take my place among them.

I felt mute as we walked in silence to the largest of the platforms I could see. Eolmir pulled open a door with a rubberized seal and I entered. He closed the door behind us.

"Finally you arrive, Eolmir, and I see you've brought our new recruit."

"I have, Lord Adrondel."

"Her majesty is waiting for us." Eolmir took his place at Adrondel's left, and they gestured for me to stand at his right. When we were arranged properly, we walked into the next room.

An older woman sat in a throne of wood that was a work of art only surpassed in beauty by her clothing. Her diaphanous gown seemed to float in the slightest breeze.

"Who have you brought before me today, Adrondel?"

"Your majesty, I bring Eolmir and Bran, comrades in arms who assisted us in the battle recently passed."

"I hear tell that Bran fell in that battle."

"He did, your majesty, but not before he assured our victory."

"He is truly so skilled?"

"More he is talented than skilled, your majesty. He is rough around the edges, but nothing a little polish won't help."

The woman on the throne smirked a little bit.

"Step forward, Bran, so I can take a look at you."

I stepped forward, making sure not to get my sword tangled in my legs.

"I'll take a moment to step out of character and welcome you to EHA. I take it you want to be an elf?"

"I sort of fell into being an elf accidentally."

"Would you prefer to be a man?"

"I don't know. I like the idea of elves, and I seem to fit the aesthetic a bit better here than I would there. I'm...fine featured."

"Yes, I can see that." she said with a smile. "Where are my manners? My name is Laura, but here I am Talliandrenna, Queen of the elves."

"Your names all seem to be...long and flowing. Will Bran really fit in here?"

"It does seem a little short."

"I picked it because it is a masculine form of my name."

"You're a girl?" Laura said a little surprised.

"No, but I was born one."

"Oh. Just here or..."

"Trying to be everywhere."

"Well, that's good to know. I'll have to bunk you with some other girls, if you don't mind."

I made a face, "I'd be uncomfortable with that. I'm sort of attracted to women."

"You really do make things difficult." She tapped her lower lip for a moment, and then sighed.

"Well, I guess you'll just have to bunk with Gregor."

"That doesn't sound like an elvish name," I said with a smile.

"Gregor is...Gregor. You'll see when you actually see him."

"I met him at the Faire."

"You've never met him in costume, then. The faire doesn't allow ogres."

"Ogres? I thought...."

"No, there are a couple of other races wandering about here. The three factions are human, elf and faerie."

"So, is he far?"

"No. He's in the forge at the other end of Kelethin...the city we're in."

"Forge...he's a blacksmith?"

"Yes. He's the elven blacksmith. No better blacksmith than an Ogre in my opinion. The humans swear by their dwarf, but, well, he's not Gregor."

"Ok, we're going back in character now, so step back?"

"Yes, my Queen," I said with a smile.

She gave some direction to the two with me and then dismissed us from her presence.

We walked across the town and then climbed down into a palisaded area on the ground that had been invisible from the place we entered.

The smell of smoke filled the little depression where the forge was located. As we neared the entrance, the heat washed over us.

"Hail, Bran, and well met." He was green. I don't mean he looked sick, I mean he was green, as in painted. His nose was large a bulbous. He looked, well, like an ogre.

"Hi, Gregor. Apparently I'll be rooming with you."

"Um..." he began.

"Look, I doubt my naked body would do anything for you, and her majesty wanted to put me with the women."

"What's wrong with that?" he asked.

"Would you be comfortable rooming with the men?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and then said, "Good point."

Eolmir laughed from the doorway, "Well, I'll let you get settled in, Bran. I'll be back later so we can go on patrol."

"Patrol?"

"We have to protect our lands somehow. It'll only last a few hours. Maybe we'll even see some action. We did last time. They thought we'd still be settling in on the first night."

I waved as Eolmir left, and then turned back to Gregor.

"Gregor the ogre, huh?"

"My human captors gave me this name. I don't remember my real one. I keep this name to remind me of my hatred."

"Okay..."

"My character's story, Bran. You need to think of one for yourself. This is more than just fun and games," he said with a smile. "Most of the people here do this stuff for a living, and they want to have this place to unwind."

"Um...do what for their job?"

"A lot of the people you'll meet here are professionals of one sort or another: Actors, choreographers, swordsmen and women. We have a couple of Olympic archers and an archery coach or two. There are stage magicians and stuntmen amongst the Pixies. Professional horse trainers..."

"There are horses out here?"

"Mostly among the humans. After a serious injury we had last year, though, they don't allow anyone to ride into combat. Then, there are the people like me, who are here because this, out here, is our job."

"Your job?"

"I'm a blacksmith."

"I know..."

"No, I'm a real blacksmith." He let that sink in for a bit.

"So, the entry fee..."

"No, that just pays for the cooks and other management people. The cost of the armor and weapons and clothing is the pay for the other craftsmen like me."

"Can I be your apprentice?"

He looked at me strangely for a moment or two and then began laughing.

"You're serious, aren't you? You realize it's going to be hard work, right? There's nothing glamorous to being a blacksmith."

"I know. I just want to be a blacksmith."

"You know how strange this all sounds, and you here your first weekend as well?"

"Yeah, I know. I just love swords. I want to learn how to forge them."

"You do realize that most of my work is stuff like buckles and hinges and such?"

I nodded, but there was obvious disappointment on my face.

"It's not as bad as all that, Bran. Trust me. Sometimes I love forging the little things more than swords and shields."

"Why's that?" I said, obviously intrigued.

"Because they take more artistry. Sure, a sword looks good, and it's the peak of my art, but mostly it's just pounding and grinding."

"But it's a sword..."

"Which is only useful for killing people, really. A buckle or a hinge could save someone's life."

"So could a shield," I said, warming to the argument.

"True, but you get more use out of the buckle."

"Well, how do you create a buckle then?"

He laughed and put me to work.

Blacksmith work isn't glamorous. It's hot sweaty labor. Now that he had an apprentice, he used me for all the scut work. Carrying the wood, pumping the bellows, holding the pig while he pounded it, pumping the bellows, and so on.

By the time that Eolmir came back, I was ready for a break.

"So, he's got you helping in the forge, huh?"

"I volunteered. I've always wanted to learn how to become a blacksmith."

"Well, if he formalizes your arrangement, then you may want to talk to admin."

"Why?"

"They will give you a partial or full refund."

That left me with something to think about as we slipped off into the forest. I was still louder than Eolmir, but with continued effort, I decided I was getting a bit quieter.

"What are you in real life?"

He made a sign for me to be quiet and motioned for me to stay still. He slipped around the tree we were standing behind, and I looked cautiously around it.

I could hear the humans tramping through the forest. Where Eolmir creaked occasionally with his leather armor, this was a constant clank for metal plates and the stomping of shod feet.

I slipped out to follow Eolmir as quietly as I could. I dropped down beside him when he went to the ground. They slowly came into view. Even in the darkness, I was able to pick out the shine of their armor.

Well, that was definitely a down side to wearing plate armor. You can't be stealthy in it. I grinned over at Eolmir. These humans were about to learn the meaning of shock and awe.

He stood me behind the nearest tree and then slipped twenty yards to another tree and we waited. It was a bit nerve wracking when they began to pass by us. I barely breathed as I stood there in the shadow of the tree watching Eolmir for his signal. As soon as they'd passed us Eolmir looked quickly the way they came to make sure this wasn't just the vanguard and the gestured me forward.

I slipped my sword as quietly as I could from its sheath, which was quieter than the closest person to me was moving, and advanced.

"For the Queen and the Greenwood!" Eolmir called as he attacked. I just went to work.

With the numbers of them we were facing, I needed to take out as many as I could before they took me out. I attacked arms and legs. If they couldn't use their limbs, then even if they weren't dead, they wouldn't be pushing the attack.

There was confusion in the human ranks. They could barely see me, but I could see them as if they were lit up. It was a heady feeling, this power that Eolmir and I held. They began to attack, but most of their strikes took out their companions, and didn't even come close to me.

I began to laugh this deep throated laugh of triumph. "The Raven shall feast well tonight!" I crowed as I took out yet another of my foes.

"Bran? That means...Eolmir..." I heard a familiar voice call from the midst of the humans. "Yield, I yield."

First in ones and twos but quickly gaining momentum our opponents dropped to a knee and just like that our battle was over.

"Over here, Bran."

I walked over to where the voice was coming from. "Daniel?"

"That's Lord Captain Daniel, elf," growled a voice from next to us.

"Stow it, Craig. Looks like we were bested." Daniel said. Something about this didn't feel right. There were only twenty men in this group. I'd seen about a hundred elves, I think, while wandering about Kelethin.

"Eolmir..?"

"I know. Run."

We took off, leaving our downed foe behind us. Gone was any pretence at stealth. As we got closer to the city, the sounds of fighting could be plainly heard.

"For the Queen and the Greenwood!" yelled Eolmir.

"The Raven will be your deaths!" I called. We charged into the battle from behind.

The elves were firing arrows down from their walkways. The blunted tips would prevent serious injury, but they wouldn't be any fun to be hit with. There were a couple of other elves on the ground with us, keeping the humans from ascending the ladders, but we were outnumbered.

"Form Square on me!" I called when I reached the first ladder.

The call went out as people understood what I meant.
---
This really isn't necessary for the story, but I like to be accurate. Infantry tactics have changed a lot over the years. One of the things that has been lost, but still exists in most military organizations, is drill. Drill existed for the purpose of maneuvering soldiers into positions they could be used. The most common formations were Line and Square.

There were others that had their reasons as well, like Wheel Left and Wheel Right, but for now, we'll stick with the one I'm using.

Forming Square is taking a normal line and turning it into a hollow square, usually with someone, or something, you need to protect in the center. A square formation prevents the enemy from flanking you because you no longer have flanks. The flanks were either end of a line formation.

So, what I was calling for was for us to form ranks around the ladders, making it so we could support each other and make a defendable position out of bad terrain.
---

I soon found myself shoulder to shoulder with eight other elves. I could feel the ladder swaying into my back periodically. No one had explained to me the goals of the game, yet, but I figured that humans getting into Kelethin would be a 'bad thing'. Arrows still rained down all around us, but with all the elves now formed around the ladders, our compatriots in the trees had clearer fields of fire amongst our enemies.

"Healer! They have a healer!"

That was new, but then I noticed a blue glow occasionally shine from the back.

Arrows began to rain down into the location where the glow had been coming from, and the area remained dark.

I saw a glimpse of silver, this time not on armor, but on a face. I recognized that face.

"Faerie! There's a Faerie amongst the humans!"

A fireball flared around one of the ladders and all of our defenders collapsed to the ground.

"Kill the Fae!" I roared.

That's when the horses rolled up. Humans ran to the wagons and began grabbing tower shields.

This battle was going very poorly. I realized too late that what I'd assumed was a good defensive position had become a trap. The eight of us were ringed in by the humans and they stood just out of sword range.

A gap opened. Something in me told me exactly what was happening, so I charged. The Fae had a moment to look surprised before my blade took him in the side. He crumpled to the ground even as I began to block a flurry of attacks from the sides.

"Take to the trees," I called to the other elves who had been with me even as I was felled but six strikes at once.

That hurt. A lot.

I sat down, hard, breathing heavily and trying to catch my breath. I was covered in sweat, beginning to freeze in the cooling night air, and I simply couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

For a moment there, while in the heat of the battle, I'd been able to slip into the role. It had been a real battle for me.

"Hey newbie. Dead folks need to clear the battlefield."

Blushing I stumbled over to where the human, Fae, and elven dead were gathered. It was a silent, though smiling, group that I joined. A slightly singed Eolmir slapped me on the back and I gave him a thumbs up.

"This is intense," I said with a big grin.

He just nodded and went back to watching the battle. It wasn't quite as fun as it had been to participate, but it wasn't completely terrible either.

"So, worth the entrance fee?" Aragorn said from behind me.

"Totally," I said. There were general chuckles, and a couple giggles, from around me.

I watched the rest of the battle from the sidelines, but it was totally still worth it. There's nothing like a real battle, and it's the highest form of entertainment I know...as long as no one is getting killed, of course.

The battle was going very poorly for the elves.

The ladders were all encompassed, Multiple Fae were wandering around, tossing fire into the air. One or two were even tossing snowballs…in July. Where the balls hit, a big white cloud erupted. If there were defenders there, I'm sure that we would be losing people in droves.

I was tapped from behind, and someone said, "Go to your rally point."

"What?" I asked, but the person was already moving on.

"Follow me," Eolmir said.

"What's going on?"

"Apparently they're performing resurrection ritual."

"Resurrection?"

"Oh, that's right, you still don't know all the rules. I forget sometimes with how you take to combat."

"I have experience with combat…if only in my own mind."

He laughed a bit at this. While we walked, we talked about the rules. Some of them, like for combat, were straight forward. They also let me know how I could 'kill' instead of just maim a man in plate armor.

We talked about the basics of ritual magic, which apparently anyone could do with enough time. One such ritual was the resurrection circle we were going to.

What really interested me, though, was the story about the world we were playing in.

This was earth, but not the earth we'd been born to. At the start of the renaissance the Fae had realized that they were going to be destroyed if the progress of technology continued the way that it had been. Apparently knowledge is anathema to magic. Go figure.

So, they'd brought together all of the denizens of Faerie among which the Elves then numbered, and performed a Grande Ritual.

They'd thought to completely destroy mankind and create a world they could once again inhabit openly. What actually occurred was a split. They created a world where humanity was in the minority and Fae were in the majority.

Our world went on without the Fae. This world went on without, or mostly without, humans.

Without the constant pressure of the humans, the elves realized that they no longer had to group with their cousins the Fae and there was a schism in Faerie. The ensuing war almost obliterated the lesser races of Faerie.

In the end, a nation of Faerie and a nation of Elves were left.

What happened to the humans you ask?

They did what our race always does. They retreated, regrouped, and came up with a plan.

The elves and Fae were not really allergic to iron, they were just unable to work it in Faerie. The laws governing that land are strange and not conducive to science.

So, the humans began to work iron and sell weapons to both sides of the conflict. When the Fae realized what the humans had done, the elves formed an alliance with the humans, and both armies faced off against the Fae on the field of battle.

The elves won their independence there, and the humans won a grudging respect in both the other nations.

That was about five hundred years ago. There have been wars and periods of peace since then. Currently, the war is actually over something a bit silly.

"You've got to be kidding me. That's what this war is about?"

"You slight our queen's honor?"

"But…he's human. You have to expect…"

"He declared his intent to marry her and bring a permanent peace to our peoples."

"But, it was the Fae princess masquerading as a human who seduced the King."

"Doesn't matter. He should have held himself pure."

"That's messed up."

"You have no idea."

"Wait…they were really getting married, weren't they. I mean real real, not game real."

"Yes, they were."

"So, when you say…what an asshole."

"My thoughts exactly. No magic was involved in his…dalliance."

"Kill all humans," I growled.

"Now you get it."

There were green flames surrounding a circle about ten feet on a side. Three men and three women in robes were making gestures and movements in the circle. We were standing with the other twenty eight elves who'd died protecting the ladders.

As I watched, they tossed something in the flames and they slowly shifted from green to red and then died out.

"That's our cue," Eolmir said. We went and lay down in the midst of the circle. The priests, or whatever, came and tapped each of us on the forehead and we 'woke up' from our dead state.

"Anything preventing us going en masse back to Kelethin?"

Eolmir shook his head.

I raised my sword into the air and called, "For the Queen and the Greenwood!"

"For the Raven!" Eolmir yelled.

Dawn was just beginning to break at this point. I hadn't realized that we'd been going all night, but I felt invigorated. The trip back to Kelethin took much less time than the trip out to the circle. We ran, my squad arrayed behind me.

"Form Line!" I called and slowed to a walk. I still didn't know if we have commands like that, but most of them understood what I meant and formed a proper line on me. I was at the right end, and they fell in on the left.

We advanced on the mob milling under the walkways. It was a massacre.

From the Grande Melee, I already knew that the elves were much more focused on group tactics than the other two armies had been. We stood our ground and waited for them to advance and used out superior tactics to blunt their superior numbers.

That morning we walked over the top of our opponents, literally sometimes. My sword arm was becoming fatigued by the time we got to the ladders and were finishing off the last of the army on the ground. Then we moved into the trees and took out the soldiers harassing the pockets of resistance left of my nation.

Every time we freed an elf or more, they joined in the formation. Our force grew, eventually including a squad of archers behind the advancing line of swordsman.

We had barely any resistance until we got to the primary platform. There was enough room there for them to be formed in ranks, and they had the tower shields I'd noticed earlier. They had their backs to us.

"For the Queen and the Greenwood!" I yelled as I charged.

"For the Raven" called the men and women at my back.

Arrows arced into the backs of those to the front and sides of me and then we were in their midst. The tower shield is great for protecting something at the front of a formation. The problem is that due to its size and bulk it makes turning around a bear.

Even as the humans tried to turn, the defenders inside the central palace I lost some of the elves with me, but we wiped the remaining humans from our city and once again retook the Greenwood.

They passed around water bottles and towels and we all sat where we were, the elves and the dead humans, and took a breather.

That had been intense. The sun was well up by this time and I was starting to feel it. It had been over twenty four hours since I'd awoken Friday morning. In between then and now I'd participated in a battle that had ranged all over the place.

The losers made their way out of the Greenwood toward the human occupied lands to the south. The winners...had business to take care of.

"So, Bran, it seems you had a very eventful first night."

"I died, Your Majesty."

"And were resurrected. I know. But how you died...was pretty epic."

"I know, right? Six people took me down at once."

The queen smiled at me. I smiled back, a bit unsure what was going on.

"Clear the chamber!" she called out.

I made a move to leave and she stopped me, "Not you, Bran. I wanted to talk to you alone for a moment."

"Me, your majesty?" I said a little more confused. I wondered what I could have done to warrant such close scrutiny.

"Call me Carol," she said with a smile, "Sam tells me he told you about the cause of the hostilities?"

"Yeah, something about the king...sleeping with someone else while engaged to you."

"That's the simple version."

"And the long version, I'm sure, includes a lot of recrimination, heart break, and sappy romantic comedies."

"Are you sure you're a boy?"

I blushed and looked down at my feet, "My mom is a girly girl, or so it seems most of the time. She's tried her best to instill the basic feminine understandings. Plus, these damned hormones seem to help a little as well. Not that I appreciate them, but..."

"It was a joke, Bran. Breathe. I get you're going through a tough time, but you need to realize not everyone is out to get you."

"Sorry...Carol."

"So, how would you like an interesting role in the coming conflict."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I want you to lead my armies...well army really."

"Aren't I a little young to lead?"

"Yes, you are the youngest person currently participating. That should be poetic justice."

"Why..?"

"Because cornflower was the youngest at the time."

"She was..."

"Legal, don't get me wrong, but it really stings being overlooked for a girl almost fifteen years younger than you are."

"Where do I enter into this?"

"How would you like to be my son...and the king's bastard."

"I don't know how I feel about being a bastard..."

"Mostly it's to give you a reason to be leading the elves into battle. You have a talent for this."

"There has to be someone else..."

"Oh, we have soldiers, I mean in the military currently. Sam is special forces."

"I wondered why he was so good at sneaking."

"Yes, there's a reason that I have him as a scout. The thing is, modern warfare uses a different skill set than ancient warfare does. You have the ability to see what is necessary to take the field."

"This was simple..." I began. I didn't think myself special. This had been a really simple skirmish. I'd just seen an opening and inserted myself into it. That was all. Nothing I'd done couldn't have been done by one of the other people playing last night.

"Without you participating, it's likely the Greenwood would have fallen last night. The elves would be slaves to the humans now."

"But, how..."

"The game is persistent, Bran. Anything we do this weekend continues to next weekend. We're crafting a story, and we live by the results of our actions."

"Oh...so if I hadn't acted..."

"We'd be having a much different conversation this morning."

I sat there stunned. I'd changed the course of the game.

"I understand if you're uncomfortable doing this..."

"No, if they'll follow me, I think I can do it."

"I think the calls of 'for The Raven' this morning were evidence of their willingness to follow you."

I blushed again, unused to the praise I was receiving. "I'll do it...mom."

She giggled a little like a schoolgirl when I said it. I smiled.

"Well, Prince Bran, call everyone back in."

The ceremony that followed was a bit long, very involved, and in my sleep deprived state I didn't register much of it. I remember smiling a lot, having robes put on me, and kneeling and standing a lot.

When it was done, I stumbled to the back end of the city, half fell down the ladder, and climbed into bed. I'd just fallen asleep, in my armor, when Gregor was there standing over me.

"Get Up, Forge Slave!"

I leapt to my feet...and just about fell flat on my face. Gregor laughed at me. I smiled, but followed him out, my heart racing. Well, there's one thing about an ogre waking you up...it really get's the blood flowing.

I was doing more scut work, but I was smiling the whole time. Something about the smell of hot metal really struck a chord in me that flowers and perfume never had. I spent the entire day running around, pumping bellows, getting wood, moving pig iron, and so on.

I was sweating, even more than I had while fighting off the humans, but the smile just wouldn't leave my face. This was something I really wanted to do with my life. Sure, there might not really be a future in it, but I was learning something real.

I collapsed into bed at around seven in the evening, having done nothing more than learn the basics of my job as assistant. It was dark out when Eolmir shook me awake.

"Bran, get up."

I groaned something, but got up and put my armor back on. It was...a bit ripe after leaving it in a pile all day, but I'd rather have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

"You look like death warmed over, Bran."

"People keep waking me up to work, Eolmir."

He laughed and I chuckled with him. I'd brought it on myself after all. We stumbled around the forest for a couple of hours, but there weren't any humans out her this evening, so I got to go back to bed. This time, however, I took care of my armor before I lay down.

I woke up before dawn and went up to the platforms to watch the sun rise through the trees. It was a beautiful sight. Sure, I was sleeping in a little shack off the side of the forge. It wasn't really camping, but I loved it and it was better than I'd ever imagined from what I'd seen online.

Breakfast over I was back in the forge with Gregor for a couple of hours.

"Could I be excused from the forge until about 1 pm?"

"What's up, Bran? Tired of this already?"

"Nope. They want me to start drilling and prepping the army. Everyone is supposed to be back, so I thought we'd work on our formations a little bit before lunch."

"Sure, let's close down everything. I want to see this."

"What..?"

"We have some pretty independent thinkers among the elves. I want to see you putting them to drill, young buck."

"That's 'prince young buck,' to you," I say with a smile.

Drill went as horribly as Gregor thought it would...at least until I began to get frustrated with it.

"You're good, I get that. You're older than me, which happens a lot. The thing is, without what little drill we did Saturday morning we would all now be slaves in the human settlement.

"Is that what you want?"

There were some mutters, and one or two angry exclamations.

"What we did was good enough."

"You're welcome to leave and go join the humans if that's how you feel. We're elves, which means we're better than that. We are concise, we are ancient, and we will make the humans regret everything that they've ever done to us. We will take them into slavery. They'll serve our needs. My father will bow down before our queen and submit to our righteous judgment."

People were actually cheering when I got done. Did it actually make things run smoothly? No, that would have taken a miracle, but it did make things run more smoothly than they did before I said something. There were still grumbles, but by the time we broke for lunch we were better at moving into, and out of, the basic formations than we'd been before.

While I was sitting at lunch, I had a wild idea, something that would take some planning, but I decided it was time to stop waiting for the humans to attack us and take the fight to them for once.

I worked for a couple of hours with Gregor in the forge after lunch, and then we were closing out the event, collecting trash from our camp sites and closing it down for the week. Gregor handed me a piece of paper when we finished closing up the forge.

"What's this?"

"My business address. In case you were serious about wanting to be my apprentice."

"I thought..."

"There's no way I'd work from here permanently."

We carted some half finished pieces to his truck, and I told him I'd be there early Monday morning. Then it was a matter of putting my new gear into my little hatchback and driving home.

The drive was nothing like it was on the way up. Where I was filled with happiness and hope and excitement before I was filled with nothing but dread now. I really didn't want to be on my way home now. The only thing that kept me on the road was my mantra. It was also what helped me deal with my mom.

"Three more months," I whispered to myself as I drove.

My birthday was in the middle of October, so that would mean I would be eighteen in three months and legally in charge of my own destiny. So, I'd just have to survive that long and then I'd be able to get a therapist...

And then everything came crashing down on my head. Mom was planning on getting a therapist for me. She wanted someone who would rubber stamp her ideas and get me...what?

I almost laughed a bit. The worst that could happen would be that she would force me to dress in skirts.

I drove into the garage at home and got my stuff out of the back. I hung my sword and buckler on a couple of pegs on the tool board that I didn't use anymore and took my armor out to the back yard. I cleaned it as well as I was able with a brush, promising myself I would look up the proper cleaning and care of leather online later.

I took my clothing and went to my room looking for something to wear around the house while I cleaned my laundry.

"What the hall, Mom!" I yelled when I set foot in the confection that my room had turned into. Gone were the cream walls, neutral comforter and beige carpeting.

The room was all lace and pink and purple. There were posters of pop singers like Katy Perry and other 'girl' bands.

"Do you like it honey?"

I tore down the posters and let them fall to the floor.

"Raven..."

"My name is Bran." I said with a certain amount of venom in my voice.

I opened the closet and looked at the damage in there. Gone were any semblance of a male wardrobe. My cargoes and slacks were missing. In there place were skirts of all descriptions. My drawers were full of girly tops.

Gone were my plain white cotton underwear. Lace and silk had replaced them.

"What the hell, Mom?"

"Do you like it?"

I glared at her, "what do you think?"

"Well, I thought..."

"I'm seventeen, Mom. I don't need you dressing me. I have a style I like. I have clothing that fits my personality and activity choices. I work in the metal shop at school, mom. I can't be wearing these...frills."

"But that's not for a month or so and I thought..."

"I got a job, mom, and I can't wear this...stuff to my new job."

"When did you get a job?"

"This weekend. I've apprenticed myself to a blacksmith."

"That again?"

"Yes, mom, that again. I need real clothing to work."

"Fine, will get you some work clothing, but I expect you to wear this anytime you're not working."

"Not gonna happen."

"While you're under my roof you will..."

"Three months, Mom."

"Excuse me?"

"In three months I'm moving out. For three months I will not be living by your rules. I will wear what I want. If you want any sort of relationship with me after this mess, then you won't dare try to force this on me."

"This is just a phase."

"Is that what your pet therapist said?"

She colored a bit and looked away.

"What, mom?"

"All the therapists I talked to..."

"They agreed with me?"

"Well, they mostly said they'd have to talk to you before making a determination, but..."

"They said it was my choice, and they weren't going to rubber stamp your backward ideals?"

"I will not allow you to talk to me in this manner!" she said, getting angry.

"You destroyed my room, Mom. How do you expect me to treat you? With respect? Try showing a little if you expect it in return. I'm almost an adult, Mom. I don't deserve this treatment."

She stood there with her mouth open, just looking at me.

"What, did I grow another head?" I said turning my head and trying to see my back."

She snorted.

"No, you're so...forceful. A little like your father..." she said.

I smiled a bit sadly at that. It made me feel good to be likened to my father, but it was another reminder of how much I missed him.

"Mom, I am a boy. Why can't you accept that?"

"Because I want you to have the big wedding with the beautiful dress. I want grandkids one day. I want to meet your handsome husband and know someone will be taking care of you."

"Why can't I be the handsome husband introducing you to my wife?" I ask.

"You're a lesbian?"