Charlie’s Angel
~~by Bobbie Cabot~~

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Charlie was an idealistic LA policeman fresh from the police academy, out to reform his corrupt precinct. So the corrupt cops in the precinct decide to get rid of him, but in a unique, untraceable way - via a demonic curse. But they didn't count on his guardian angel and a magical mix tape...

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Police officer Charles Townsend was a good cop, and did his best to live on the straight-and-narrow and be an upstanding police officer. But police officers don’t really make a lot of money so it’s sometimes hard not to take advantage of his position. Many of the guys were on the take, but, though he wasn’t one of them, he was a team player so he had no intention of busting them.

Still, if you were on the take, would you trust a goody-two-shoes not to blow the whistle on you, even a good kid like Charlie?

It wasn’t surprising to find Charlie in that second-hand car lot that Saturday. It was full of a lot of really bad second-hand cars, but that was the only kind he could afford on his salary. A couple of the guys in the precinct tried to bribe him with really good cars – they were his but only under certain… “conditions.” He politely declined, as he usually does these things. And then, the worst of the bunch, Detective Eric Knox, gave him a tip about a place that sold second-hand cars. He didn’t trust Knox much, but there was no harm to check it out. He desperately needed a car, after all.

When he got to the lot, it was pretty scary. The owner was this creepy guy who wore a cape and had his hair slicked back. He wore what looked like devil contact lenses, and actually cackled when he told him that he was sent by Det. Knox to look at a car.

The man threw his arm up and thunder and lightning exploded all around him despite the fact it was a sunny Saturday afternoon. Charlie jumped and started to shake a little.

“Pick whatever you like,” he said in a deep, echoing voice, and Charlie almost ran just to get away from him.

He looked over his selection of crappy cars and gravitated to the Mustang at the very back. He didn’t know why, but it was like the car was calling to him. It was a white ’76 Mustang Cobra II with two blue stripes down the middle. He inspected the car and it turned out to be as bad as a forty-year-old car could be – faded paint, rust, scratches, dings and dents, almost-bald tires with mismatched rims. But the owner suddenly appeared by his elbow and insisted he try it out.

It was actually not too bad. Sure he had a lot of stuff to fix, but the car was basically sound – the engine sounded fine, and the shocks were okay. So he forked over the cash, got the papers, threw his backpack into the back seat and drove the car out of the creepy, decrepit lot at high speed.

After a while, his fear faded away and he slowed the car down a bit.

-----

After half an hour of driving, he started to get bored. He looked at the dash and saw that the car had a radio-tape deck. Just his luck, the radio wasn’t working.

He rummaged through the glove compartment full of junk. He found an old cassette tape. The hand-written note in the plastic case liner said: “Charlie – pop the cassette in the player now! Otherwise, you’re dead. Jill.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. That was scary. He took the cassette out. It was labeled “Jill’s mix tape.”

“Why the hell not,” he thought, popped it into the player, and, wonder of wonders – it ran!

He didn’t bother to rewind (because he didn’t know he had to with cassettes) and the first song he heard was an old song, “That Old Black Magic,” as sung by Frank Sinatra.

He had forgotten his sunglasses so he lowered the sun visor. A little note, hidden in the visor, fell onto his lap. It said “for Charlie” on top. He unfolded it and the note said the following:

“So, Charlie. Hope you enjoy your new car, even though you’re not going to have it long. You see, a few minutes after you read my note, you’re going to die. That’s because the car’s been cursed. Any man who touches the car will die. You thought you were better than us, huh? Well, this is what you get. Goodbye, Charlie – Eric Knox.”

After he finished the note, the paper burst into flame in his fingers and crumbled to ashes. After it did, he heard the cackling of a crazy man. It was the cackling of the owner of the car lot! And as the cackling grew louder and louder, the car started to swerve out of control.

Charlie grimly held onto the steering wheel and did his best to control the car, but it fought him, and was steering him into opposing traffic. In the background, he could hear Frank Sinatra singing.

“That old black magic has me in its spell,” Frank Sinatra sang. “That old black magic that you weave so well. Those icy fingers up and down my spine. The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine.”

In desperation, so that he didn’t hurt anyone else, Charlie deliberately steered away and to the right.

When he did, the speakers squealed, and Frank was cut off mid-song.

The old Mustang smashed through the guardrail and crashed into the sandy strip between the sea and the rocks bordering the highway.

-----

After an indeterminate amount of time, he woke up again, woozy but mostly okay. He thought he was a goner. As he sat up, he noted that the car seemed to be incredibly in one piece, and as he looked around, he found that the mix tape was still running, because a new song started to play.

As he looked himself over, looking for broken bones or whatever, he heard the beginnings of a song he recognized.

“A Goddess on a mountain top,” the girl sang, “was burning like a silver flame. The summit of beauty and love, and Venus was her name.”

It wasn’t the version he remembered. A different band was singing, but it was okay.

“She's got it. Yeah, baby, she's got it... Well, I'm your Venus. I'm your fire, your desire. Well, I'm your Venus, I'm your fire, your desire.”

He noticed that, as the song played, odd feelings raced through him. He looked at the rear view, and it was like his face was changing.

“Her weapons were her crystal eyes,” the girl on the mix tape sang, “making every man mad.”

His eyes turned bright green and his hair started growing longer.

“Black as the dark night she was,” the singer sang. “Got what no-one else had. Wow!”

He looked down and his t-shirt started to change, growing shorter and tighter. He could now see his tummy, which had grown smaller and tighter.

“She's got it. Yeah, baby, she's got it, Well, I'm your Venus. I'm your fire, your desire.”

The top of his shirt started to bulge. He had breasts now.

“Well, I'm your Venus. I'm your fire, your desire.”

More changes raced through the rest of her.

“She's got it. Yeah, baby, she's got it. Well, I'm your Venus. I'm your fire, your desire. Well, I'm your Venus. I'm your fire, your desire…”

The song faded away, and the weird feelings faded away, too. He opened the door and stepped out to see things a little better. As he stood, nothing felt normal anymore. Looking down, he saw breasts pushing the top of his new cutoff t-shirt out. He noticed that his arms were now slimmer and his black diver’s watch was replaced by a slim white women’s sports watch. And his fingers…

He saw his legs and noticed that he wasn’t wearing his old jeans anymore. A pair of tattered women’s cutoff jean shorts replaced it, and instead of his old high-tops, he was now wearing women’s high-heeled low boots.

The hip-hugging pants displayed his new, slimmer, smoother and sexier legs to full effect, and with the boobs…

He jumped back into the car, slammed the door and looked into the rearview.

Staring back at him was someone he didn’t recognize - a beautiful girl’s face, beautiful crystal-green eyes, long, blonde hair styled in a long-layered feathered shag, with large, loose curls.

Wow.

He didn’t know what to do, but he definitely didn’t want to stick around. He started the engine and was about to step on the accelerator when he heard the next song on the mix tape - ZZ Top’s eighties hit, “Legs.”

“She's got legs,” the song went, “she knows how to use them. She never begs - she knows how to choose them. She's holdin' leg wonderin' how to feel them. Would you get behind them if you could only find them?”

As he listened to the song, Charlie looked at his new legs. He had to admit he had thosw kind of legs now.

He drove off the sand and onto the access road. He had to drive a little slow because of all the people and kids. They were all looking at him.

When he got back on the highway, he gunned the engine and drove on towards his little apartment.

“She's got hair down to her fanny,” the song continued. “She's kinda jet set, try undo her panties. Every time she's dancin' she knows what to do. Everybody wants to see if she can use it.”

Charlie wondered if his hair was down to his fanny now, and he squirmed a bit as he felt his new cutoff jeans had climbed up between his legs. He reached down and pulled it out to be more comfortable.

As he drove on, newer songs on the mix tape played. There was Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” followed by “Centerfold” by the J. Geils Band.

Charlie was starting to see a kind of theme to Jill’s mix tape. “Wonder if it has something to do with these changes,” he thought. He looked down at his new boobs and the driver of the car beside him leaned on his horn. He jerked the wheel and got back in his lane.

Eventually, Charlie pulled up in front of his apartment. He switched off, stepped out and reached into his jean’s pocket for the apartment keys but it wasn’t there. He reached for his backpack, which had mysteriously turned into a tiny fuchsia girl’s backpack. Inside was his key ring.

He then went to the apartment door but when he looked, he couldn’t find the key. He tried all the keys but all of them didn’t work. He went back to the car defeated, and sat in the driver’s seat.

He decided to look in his new backpack and found a little white girl’s wallet. In it he found a driver’s license for a girl named Jill Munroe. Blonde hair, green eyes, 5’7”, 130 pounds, et cetera. She had the same birthday as him, and the picture was for the girl he appeared to be now.

Noting the address, he started the car again and drove there.

-----

Months later, an incredibly attractive blonde wearing a police academy uniform - long-sleeved light-blue shirt with patches, tie, belt, navy-blue slacks and patent-leather shoes - climbed up the steps to the LA Times offices.

Thirty minutes later, she left the newspaper office, got into her mint-condition white vintage ‘76 Mustang Cobra II with two blue stripes down the middle, and drove away towards the LA Police Academy compound.

Charlie had just dropped a packet of correspondence, forms, reports, financial documents, and surveillance material at the LA Times office, all relating to Detective Eric Knox. She was confident that the crooked, evil cop will soon be out on his ass and charged with several criminal and homicide charges, one of them the murder of Police Officer Charles Townsend. Six months ago, the body, her old body, was found on the beach where she crashed through the guardrail, the victim of multiple gunshots.

The LA Times people promised that they wouldn’t use her name, but she wasn’t worried even if her name leaked out. “Just let Knox and his goons try something,” she thought. She was more than ready for them now.

“Knox was right,” Jill thought. Any man who touched her car would die. Good thing she wasn’t a man…

Charlie was getting used to her new life as Jill Munroe, and it wasn’t such a bad life. She had a lot of friends now, typical for a hottie like her. And soon she’d be graduating from the Police Academy, and would start work as a full-fledged police officer. She was hoping she and her new best friends, Sabrina Duncan and Kelly Garrett, would be assigned to the same precinct. Who knows?

Jill parked her Mustang in the outside parking lot and hurried to her next class.

She wasn’t worried about her car anymore. Lots of guys have touched it and even ridden in it since that “accident,” and nothing bad has happened to them. She was sure that Jill’s mix tape, the original Jill, that is, had gotten rid of the curse somehow. Someday, she’ll look into it, and maybe find out more about her, her car and her magical mix tape.

Jill rushed. She couldn’t afford to be late. Some of her classmates hooted and whistled as she passed (they wouldn’t have dared if they were inside, otherwise they’d probably be booted out of the academy). But she was used to that by now. They couldn’t help it. She was an incredible hottie, after all.

In her head, she heard that song again from the mix tape - “Venus” by Shocking Blue. Truth be told, though, she liked Bananarama’s version, but the original was still okay.

“She's got it,” the song went. “Yeah, baby, she's got it. Well, I'm your Venus. I'm your fire, your desire.”

“Yep,” she thought “I definitely got it. Maybe I should change my name to Venus.”

She giggled as she stepped into the classroom. She waved to Sabrina and Kelly, and took her seat beside them. The three of them had become fast friends, and had been inseparable since they became classmates in the Academy. She wouldn’t be surprised if they’d be friends for a long, long time.

---end---

Note - The pictures used were collages made from publicly accessible pictures of the Charlie’s Angels TV show. No ownership is claimed. No IP infringement is intended.

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Charlie’s Other Angels
~~by Bobbie Cabot~~

Jill, formerly Charlie, has been a beat cop for over a year. By now, she's had more or less adjusted to being changed into a sexy policewoman by that magical mixed tape. But then, during an almost disastrous stakeout, she finds out that what happened to her happened to a lot of other people, too.

— what happened before ---

Jill had been living as a girl for almost two years, the past year as a police beat cop. She was more-or-less comfortable in her new life as Jill Munroe now, but, in many ways, she was still Charlie Townsend, the young, idealistic cop that got killed by Eric Knox, a corrupt police detective, by means of black magic.

His mysterious guardian angel, someone named “Jill,” rescued him from sure death via a magical ‘70s cassette tape, by turning him into “Jill Munroe.”

Now, here she was. She wasn’t Charlie anymore, but at least she was alive. Now, she was a newbie lady cop, and as hot as any girl she had ever seen. She also has two new best friends - Sabrina and Kelly, whom she met at the Police Academy. Her quick adjustment to her new life and identity was probably due to them. And, now, truth be told, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

--- that morning ---

As the three of them walked into the squad room, they greeted everyone. The three of them were by far the most popular in the squad. After all, they were the hottest-looking among the girls in their squad (even in their police uniforms), and everyone’s ‘good morning’ to them were quite cheery.

Their squad’s police sergeant, Sgt. Tom Bosley, began their morning meeting. He said their friends from the detective squad needed some help. They had a big bust that night -- a Mexico-based sweatshop ring operating in the LA area was their target -- and they were short some people.

This was nothing new. With the manpower shortage, this kind of thing happened all the time. The captain had volunteered three from their squad to help out, and the ones next in the “rotation” were Duncan, Garrett and Munroe…

--- that night ---

“Okay, guys,” Jake Peralta, the lead detective in charge of the bust, briefed everyone in a little empty garage a few stores away from the large warehouse where the ring was making knock-off Gucci bags, Christian Loubotin shoes, and D&G belts.

“Grab some seats,” he said, and everyone made themselves comfortable.

“Sgt. Bosley has assigned us three of his officers to our little operation. These here are Police Officers Jill Munroe, Kelly Garrett and Sabrina Duncan.”

Jill and her friends nodded. They were in casual clothes, of course - jeans and jackets over Henleys or tank tops – the de rigeur uniform for police officers on stakeout. They could put vests on under the jackets and it wouldn’t be too obvious. Of course, when they go in, they’d be replacing the jackets with ones with the legend, “POLICE” on them.

Peralta introduced his team – Detectives Amy Santiago, Rosa Diaz, Charles Boyle, Michael Hitchcock and Norm Scully. Sgt. Terry Jeffords was currently in the van that they were using for surveillance.

“The objective tonight is to get video and audio,” Jake said, “and to get them to admit that they’re working with Doug Judy, the notorious ‘Pontiac Bandit.’ Doug Judy has expanded his illegal activities to include knockoff designer products. So Amy and Rosa will go in as prospective buyers and get them to admit that they’re working with Doug Judy.”

“Excuse me, Detective,” Jill interrupted, “but why is that important? Seems to me, you already have the goods on these people. Why is this important?”

“Well, we have Doug Judy in custody already, but we were hoping to connect him to this particular sweatshop. With this connection, we can establish a logical connection to several other sweatshops, and then we can shut them all down. It’s a big deal, actually, so we really need to do this right.”

The girls nodded.

“Okay. This is how we’ll do it. Detectives Hitchcock and Scully will have the alleyway beside the warehouse staked out while officers Munroe, Garrett and Duncan will watch the front. Sgt. Jeffords will continue recording, while Detectives Diaz and Santiago will go in to talk to the suspects. They’re the best to do it since they speak Spanish and have the right look. Detective Boyle and I will be at the back entrance ready to back them up just in case.

“Jill: you, Kelly and Sabrina will remain in front and keep a lookout in case they call in reinforcements. When our sister precincts did similar busts, they were taken by surprise when gunmen came in and shot up the place. You three will be our lookout to prevent us from being taken by surprise, and to provide backup.”

“Right, Detective,” Jill replied.

“Okay, let’s get ready.”

Everyone donned their vests and, while they did so, Charles Boyle came closer and tried to appear suave and debonair to the girls, but just ended up with egg on his face.

Jake just waved him away while he swooped in to try and make time with the three new girls, only to be clipped by Amy. Clearly, those two had some kind of relationship.

The three just laughed and got ready.

--- later that night ---

The three of them were parked just outside the warehouse in Jill’s white ’76 Mustang Cobra II. Stakeouts were boring.

“You know, Jill,” Kelly said as she sipped at her cup of coffee, “I can understand you keeping your car as close to original as you can, but I don’t understand why you don’t replace the tape deck with a nice DVD-MP3 player at least.”

“Well…” Jill hesitated.

“Really.” Kelly said. “I didn’t even know there were cassette tapes still available.” She pawed through the glove compartment, which was full of cassette tapes.

“Oh, sure!” Jill replied. “You can buy them through the internet. There are tons. And there were some people in the precinct that helped me transfer my favorite albums onto tape. But I’m buying my own recording deck as soon as I find a decent one.”

“Why go through all that trouble, Jill? Just upgrade.”

“Guys!” Sabrina said, tapping the two on the shoulder. “There are three men walking towards the warehouse. And it looks like they’re carrying shotguns!”

Jill whipped up her surveillance binoculars while Kelly borrowed Sabrina’s.

“One of them looks like Eric Knox…” Jill murmured.

“Who?” Sabrina asked.

“One of them looks like Ray Carter,” Kelly said.

Sabrina looked at Kelly. “You mean the Ray Carter who…”

“Yes.”

“Jill! Get the girls and Sgt. Jeffords on the radio. Tell ‘em there are guys coming.”

Jill pulled out her police radio. “Amy!” she said into the walkie-talkie. “Sgt. Jeffords! This is Jill. Heads up! There are three guys with shotguns walking towards the warehouse!”

“Okay, Jill,” Terry Jeffords replied. “Do you hear that, Amy? Wrap it up. I’m calling backup.”

“It’s okay, Sarge,” Rosa Diaz responded. “We just got the foreman to say what we needed. We’re done here.”

“Good work, Rosa,” Jake said. “We’re coming in. Get your suspects to safety.”

“Bri,” Jill said to Sabrina, “what do we do?”

“We back them up, that’s what.” Sabrina brought up a couple of police-issue shotguns that she got during the briefing, and gave them to the others. “Let’s go!”

Armed with shotguns, they got out of the Mustang and sprinted for the warehouse. In their earphones, they could hear Jeffords calling for backup, and the dispatcher responding. Backup’s ETA was ten minutes, but ten minutes might just be too late.

They heard shotguns firing, and Jill hit the front door with her shoulder. The three of them poured in and saw the workers crouched behind some of the tables and Charles, Jake, Amy and Rosa engaged in a firefight with the three heavily armed men. They were clearly outgunned.

Jill saw the one that looked like Eric Knox wave his hand and Amy and the other three were magically thrown backwards.

Jill, somehow, wasn’t surprised, given what she knew and what happened to her. She quickly peeked at her two friends and they didn’t look surprised, either.

“This is the police!” Sabrina called. “Freeze!”

One of them, the taller one, turned around and made a gesture similar to Knox, and it threw Kelly and Sabrina back, as well. Jill was, however, able to duck under the tables.

She peeked over the tables and saw them walking over to her, but she had to duck down since the three used up all their ammo trying to get her. When they ran out, she raised her own shotgun and fired several shots. The tall one got hit on the shoulder while Knox was hit in his arm, making him drop his gun.

Jill ducked down and reloaded her shotgun. Looking over, she noticed Sabrina and Kelly were still woozy. She knew she couldn’t expect any help from them for a while.

Jill grabbed Kelly’s shotgun and hefted both hers and Kelly’s. She took a deep breath and stood up. The shortest of the three – the one that wasn’t hit yet – faced her. He gestured with both hands and fire flew from them and straight towards her.

Jill ducked at the nick of time and the fountains of fire just missed her. They splashed on the brick wall behind her and broke up, leaving smoldering burn marks.

After the fire had dissipated, she stood up and fired both shotguns. She hit the guy point blank and he fell backwards.

This gave Jill time to run to her right and drag her friends to a more protected location. She stood and continued to shoot. The remaining two made their own gestures but she knew what to expect now, and was able to dodge properly. The wall behind her exploded in certain spots as whatever-they-were that emanated from their hands hit the wall.

Jill pushed the questions in her head away, concentrated on the here-and-now, and continued firing as she got closer and closer to the two remaining bad guys, but, for some reason, the buckshot wasn’t hitting them this time.

Eventually she ran out of shots. But by then she was close enough to the two to hit them with her fists. But, instead of fists, she swung her two shotguns like baseball bats and hit Eric Knox on one side of his head, and then the other side. This dropped him like a sack of potatoes.

She breathed hard, trying to catch her breath and control the adrenalin rush. It wasn’t over yet – there was still the tall one. But her shotguns were both out of ammo. She backtracked, trying to find a table where she can hide behind or something, but the bad guy was too close.

“I got you now, girlie,” the tall man laughed evilly.

“Freeze, you son of a bitch!” Sabrina called. “Step away from her!”

Jill looked down and she saw Sabrina woozily standing, along with Kelly. She had her shotgun pointed at him while Kelly had her service pistol out. Knowing these two, Jill knew they’d be firing at the slightest provocation so she crouched down.

The tall man raised his hands to fire a couple of fireballs at them, but the girls fired first.

The first shots went wild but the follow-up shots hit true. The tall man was hit with buckshot center mass several times, as well as hit in the neck and shoulder with Kelly’s shots. Maybe Knox was the one with the force field thingy. The tall man fell.

“Jill!” Kelly called. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” she called back. “How ‘bout you two?”

“My head’s spinning.”

Well, don’t fire. I’m standing up, ‘kay?”

“Okay…”

Jill stood and ran over to them. They were both sitting down on the concrete.

“I’m not feeling so good, Jill,” Sabrina said.

Jill cradled the two girls in her arms and waited for the cavalry. She broke down and cried, just from the reaction and relief for her and her friends. Sgt. Jeffords crashed into the warehouse with several officers behind him, and he saw the girls exhausted beyond exhaustion. He gestured to them and some of the officers checked them out.

The sarge slowly walked in and noticed the workers and their foreman crouching in the corner. He signaled and several officers went over.

In the middle of the warehouse, he saw the three men who came in, and they were dead or dying. He saw the damage on the walls. Whatever happened here must have been epic.

--- after all the shooting and shouting was done ---

Jill was in Sabrina’s house where both she and Kelly had been staying, to recuperate from their concussions. Jill decided to have a chat.

Jill said that, during that night in the warehouse, Jake Peralta and his people were unconscious the whole time and they didn’t see anything while their backup only arrived after everything was over.

But that wasn’t the biggest thing that they discussed.

It seems the thing that happened to Jill happened to the other two as well. Sabrina used to be Bill Duncan, another policeman, and Kelly Garrett used to be Dr. Alan Samuelson, and in both cases, just like Jill, they were going to die in similar circumstances. And, like Jill, both were turned into girls via a cassette tape. Sabrina’s said “Bri’s Mix Tape” and Kelly’s was “Kelly’s Mix Tape.”

Aside from Eric Knox, the other two that they brought down turned out to be Seamus O’Grady, an Irish gangster that was responsible for Bill Duncan’s death, and Ray Carter, an ex-US marshal that was responsible for Alan Samuelson’s death.

And there was Eric Knox… Why were they working together? In fact, why were Jill, Sabrina and Kelly together? What did it all mean?

Jill tried to lighten the mood. She asked if Kelly and Sabrina got cool retro cars as well. The two frowned. Kelly got a fairly-okay-looking ’76 Ford Mustang II, except it was beige. Kelly made a face when she said “beige.”

Sabrina’s expression when she told Jill what she got was even worse. That’s because it was an orange-and-white ’76 Ford Pinto. It seemed that Jill was the only one that got a good one. They all wondered why the cars were all ’76 models.

In any case, the three knew that there was no way back – their male bodies were found dead a day or so after they found themselves transformed, and rather than try to recapture something that they couldn’t… they all decided to forge ahead.

The following Monday, all three of them were back on duty. At the Monday meeting, their entire squad gave them a round of applause for their work. But, before they started, Sgt. Bosley took them aside and told them that they were invited to attend a kind of meeting on Saturday. He handed Sabrina a slip of paper with a date, a time and an address.

“What meeting is that, Sarge?” Jill asked.

“You’ll find out,” Bosley said. “it’ll answer a lot of your questions.”

“What questions…” Sabrina started to say, but Bosley made a shushing motion.

“Later,” the sergeant said, “It’s time for the meeting.”

--- that Saturday ---

Jill and Sabrina rode together in Jill’s Cobra II (Sabrina was still embarrassed to use her little orange Pinto) while Kelly met them at the hotel using her beige Mustang.

Together, they rode the elevator to the big function room at the hotel’s top floor.

When they entered the auditorium, there were other girls already there. There must have been thirty of them.

Sabrina went to the reception desk and the man there handed her three nametags.

“How did you know our names?” Sabrina asked.

“You three are the last. So…”

“Oh.” Sabrina handed Kelly and Jill their nametags.

“Hello, hello…” someone spoke over the PA. They all looked towards the stage and they saw Sergeant Bosley at the mic, but this time he was wearing an expensive-looking business suit.

“Good afternoon, ladies. Now that everyone’s here, please take your seats so we can begin. Please take your seats.”

Everyone took their seats, and when all the murmuring died down, Bosley began.

“I am sure you all know me,” he said. “My name is Tom Bosley. And I am also sure you are all aware of the Charles Townsend Detective Agency.”

Jill’s eyes went wide. That was her old name when she was still a man!

“Some of you are actually employees of the agency, right?”

Except for the three of them, everyone else answered with either a “yes” or a “right.”

“What the hell?” Jill murmured.

“That’s right,” Bosley said, talking to her. “Except for three of you, everyone else are all employed by the Charles Townsend Agency. But what you didn’t know was that the agency actually has seven branch offices, and the other girls around you are like you: private investigators of the Townsend Agency.”

This was greeted with a rising murmuring.

“First, let me introduce our investigators from our L.A. office. We have Julie Rogers, Tiffany Welles and Kris Munroe. Girls, can you please stand?”

A brunette and two blondes stood. They were quite attractive. Actually, Jill thought, everyone in the room was all quite attractive. And then her brain did a double take. “Kris Munroe?” She thought. “Munroe! What has she go to do with…”

Bosley continued. “From our Miami office, there’s Kate Prince, Eve French and Abby Sampson. Girls?” This time, an African-American girl, another brunette and another blonde stood.

“Then, from our DC office, there’s Natalie Cook, Dylan Sanders, Madison Lee and Alex Munday. They also brought their two trainee investigators – Ashley and Kate.” This time, two blondes, a brunette and an Asian-American girl stood. The last to stand were two diminutive blondes.

“Six girls this time,” Sabrina whispered to Jill and Kelly. “Their DC office must get a lot of business.”

“From our San Francisco office, there’s Connie Bates, Bernie Colter, Pam Ryan and Trisha Lawrence.” Two blondes, a brunette and an African American stood this time.

“We also have three international offices: a German office, a Taiwanese office and a Latin American office.

“We have Betty, Cindy, Annabelle and Angie from our Taiwan office, and Elena Sanchez, Adriana Vega and Gina Navarro from the Mexico City office.” The seven girls then stood.

“And then, finally, we have Chris Rabe, Franziska Borgardt and Lena Heitmann from our office in Germany.” This time, it was a dark-haired girl, a brunette and a blonde that stood.

“We have also been joined by three others from the LA Police Department. They’re Police Officers Sabrina Duncan, Kelly Garrett and Jill Munroe.

“The reason Jill, Sabrina and Kelly are here is that, about two weeks ago, these three were responsible for eliminating three very dangerous individuals which the Agency has been trying to get for a long time, and these girls have done it.”

Someone, the blonde girl from the German office, raised her hand.

“Yes, Lena – you have a question?”

“Mr. Bosley,” the blonde said. “What’s all this? Why keep everyone secret from the others? And why let everything out now?”

“I will answer that presently, Lena.

“You see, aside from all of you being private detectives of the Townsend Agency, you all have one other similar thing. You all have undergone, shall we say, a major change in life. Let me ask Officer Jill Munroe to come up to the stage. Officer Munroe?”

“Bri,” Jill said. “What should I do?”

“I think it’s okay,” Sabrina replied. “Go ahead, Jill.”

Jill nodded, stood up and walked to the stage.

Climbing up, she went to Bosley, who handed her a microphone.

“You’re not really a police sergeant, are you?” Jill said to Bosley.

“No,” he chuckled. He brought up his own microphone. “Now, Jill, please tell everyone what happened to you two years ago.”

Jill’s eyes grew large. She looked at Bosley. “You knew?” she said.

“Yes. But it’s all right. Please tell them. Trust me, Charlie.”

Charlie… “He called me Charlie,” she thought. Jill looked at him, the same face that she’d known for a year. She sighed and decided to take him at his word.

“Hi, everyone. I’m Jill Munroe. I’m a police officer like Sergeant… sorry, I mean Mr. Bosley, said. But I wasn’t always Jill.” Without telling them any names, she then proceeded to tell them the whole story. The entire function room grew quiet as they listened to her tell them she used to be a man, and how an evil, magical curse made by an evil, evil man almost killed him. She was saved with the use of a magical mix tape from a guardian angel also named Jill, but, in doing so, she was turned into Jill Munroe.

She then introduced her two best friends, Kelly Garrett and Sabrina Duncan, and before they could ask, she told them that they also used to be men, and were almost killed, too, except for their own magical mix tapes. Jill nodded to Kelly and Sabrina. They brought out their mix tapes and held them up. And she explained that the ones responsible for them being this way were the three that they killed in that bust the week before.

The murmuring grew louder.

“Ladies,” Bosley said into his mic, “can you all bring out your own, ummm, ‘mix tapes?’”

Slowly, the girls all brought out their own ‘mix tapes,’ except that not all of them were in cassette tape form.

Though the girls from the LA and San Francisco offices held up cassette tapes, the others held up CD disks instead while the girls from the Miami office held up memory sticks.

“Ladies,” Bosley said, “everyone in this room has gone through the same thing, that all of you used to be men, but were turned into women to save you from death. We had not told anyone your individual stories out of respect for you, and to protect your new lives, especially from those who tried to kill you. But things have now changed. For whatever reason, three of these people that were responsible for the, ummm, death of three of you, have joined forces. It’s our conclusion that all of those that were responsible for your changes are teaming up.

“That means we have to do the same thing. We have to, finally, join forces as well, and finally get rid of these evil people. But we have to do it under the radar. No one must know, of course, because people will think we’re crazy, or it might cause a panic or something. So we’ll do it under the guise of our detective agency.

“So, let’s all start our planning. Let’s…”

One of the girls from the Miami office, a totally gorgeous blonde, raised her hand.

Bosley nodded. “Yes, Abby?”

“Mr. Bosley, you keep saying ‘we.’ Who’s the ‘we?’”

“Well, me and Charlie Townsend, of course.”

“Will we finally get to meet Charlie today?”

“I don’t think so…” Bosley said. He then clapped his hands to break the mood. “Okay! So where were we…”

--- after the meeting ---

After the meeting and everything was hashed out, everyone filed out to the adjoining function room for a bit of dinner before going home. Jill, Sabrina and Kelly were chatting with Bosley, discussing some of the details of how they’ll transition from the police department to the New York agency, when one of the girls from the LA office came over and tapped Bosley on the shoulder.

“Hi, Kris,” Bosley said. “Glad you’re here. Jill?”

“Yeah?”

“Jill Munroe, I’d like to introduce you to your sister, Kris Munroe.”

“What!?! Sister?!?”

---end---

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---------------

About the story: As you may have seen, I’ve thrown a lot of names in but they are far from random. Over the years, there have been several reboots of Charlie’s Angels, the TV show. Aside from the original series that ran from 1976-81, there was a short-lived reboot in 1989. There was also a Hispanic version called “Angeles” in 1998, a Taiwanese movie in 2001, a German series called “Wilde Engel” in 2003, two movies in 2000 and 2003, and yet another reboot series in 2011. (There is actually a new movie being made right now, which is going to be directed by Elizabeth Banks.)

Anyway, I thought it would be fun to use the names of the characters from all of the past shows.

I kept the three so-called “replacement” angels from the original series (Chris, Tiffany and Julie) in LA. As for the others: I invented a San Francisco office for the angels from the ‘89 series. I put the angels from the “Angeles” series in Mexico City, the ones from “Wilde Engel” in Berlin, the Asian angels in Taiwan, the ones from the movies in DC, and the girls from the 2011 series in Miami. As for the original three angels (Sabrina, Jill and Kelly), I invented a New York office for them. And if you’re curious about how they look, see the collage at the end of the story.

However…

Please know that this story is only loosely patterned after the Charlie’s Angels plotlines/storylines so this has no real connection to the TV shows/movies. No copyright or IP infringement is intended: the sources are fully acknowledged here. The images and character names used are from the Charlie’s Angels TV shows and movies. Some of the character names used are from Brooklyn Nine Nine. Their source is hereby also fully acknowledged, and no claims of ownership are made. This is a re-imagination fanfic so the characters have no story/plot connections to their sources. They are used here mostly as a tribute and inspiration. And a big “thank you” to my dad for lending us his Charlie’s Angels DVD box set… which started me on this Charlie’s Angels thing in the first place. lol.

Note that the pictures used were collages made from publicly accessible pictures of the Charlie’s Angels movies and TV shows, as well as other pictures. No ownership is claimed. No IP infringement is intended.

Charlie and the Angel
~~by Bobbie Cabot~~

Jill Munroe, formerly Police Officer Charlie Townsend, had more or less adjusted to being changed by that magical mixed tape. But after finding out some very important facts about her change, had quit the force and started working at her new job as a private detective. She, along with her best friends, Sabrina and Kelly, were excited to start working on their first assignment…

-----

Jill pulled out of her parking space in her new condo building on Barrow Street, and started her drive to the new office on East 69th.

She didn’t need Waze anymore since she had memorized the route by now – down Barrow, left on Washington, right on Houston, down West and through the Battery Park Underpass and onto FDR. She eventually crossed FDR and onto East 61st, right on 1st, left on East 67th, right on Park Avenue and then eventually to East 69th.

As an LA native, she was used to driving long distances, but this route was ridiculously complicated for a five-mile drive, and she was only able to memorize it because she had been navigating the same route for a week now.

She’d started thinking that maybe her best friend, Sabrina, did the right thing by picking the less fancy apartment the company found, but which was just a ten-minute walk to the office. But no – she had to pick the fancy one just because Bosley said it was the best he found.

As for Kelly, she found her own place herself, which was a loft on West 66th near Tucker Square. She liked it for the Farmers’ Market on Saturdays, and the twenty-minute one-mile walk through Central Park to the office. Which was just as well since she had no parking and had to park her classic beige ’76 Mustang in a rented spot in a parking structure near the office.

Jill was about to go into the parking structure, too, but luckily, there was an empty spot right in front of the building.

She pulled in, just in time to see Kelly.

“Hey, Kelly!” she called. She stepped out of her mint-condition ’76 white Mustang Cobra II with the blue racing stripes, locked it and went to Kelly for a hug.

“Good morning, Jill,” Kelly said, putting an arm over her shoulders. “How was your drive?”

“Not as fun as you might think,” Jill said. They went to the front door.

“Good morning, Charlie!” they said to the friendly old doorman. This greeting was rapidly becoming a tradition, now.

“Good morning, Miss Garrett, Miss Munroe.”

“How are you this bright Monday morning, Charlie?” Jill said.

“Doin’ really great!”

“I take it Sabrina’s here already?”

“Miss Duncan’s been here since seven-thirty, Miss Munroe.”

“Damn!” She turned to the brunette. “You know, Kelly,” Jill said, “I think Bri likes doing this to us. One of these days, I’ll beat her to the office.”

Kelly giggled. “Let’s go, girlfriend. Hopefully, Bosley will have an assignment for us today.”

They went to the suite for the Charles Townsend Detective Agency’s New York office and, as usual, Sabrina was there.

“Hey!” Sabrina said and gave them a Cheshire cat smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jill said and gave her a hug. “You beat us to the office again.”

“Sabrina?” Kelly asked, “do we have a case today?”

“As it happens,” Tom Bosley said, “you do.” The ex-police sergeant came into the office in his now-normal suit and tie. “Good morning, girls. Please take a seat so I can start the briefing.”

The girls found seats in the well-appointed office.

“Bosley,” Jill said, “before you do: a question - why is the company called the ‘Charles Townsend Detective Agency?’ Who’s Charles Townsend?”

“Well, Jill, obviously, Charles Townsend Sr. is our employer.”

“But that was my name when I was… who exactly is… wait – you said ‘senior?’… ”

“Please, Jill,” Bosley said, “we need to start our briefing. Let’s leave that for later, okay?”

“’Kay…”

With that, Bosley dimmed the lights, turned on an LCD projector, and started telling them about their first case. And, apparently, their first case was going to be a ghost hunt…

-----

Sabrina stepped out of a limousine, dressed in a conservative but extremely expensive outfit. She exuded the image of a young, very well-to-do professional. Extremely well-to-do, actually – filthy rich, in fact. Kelly then followed, this time dressed in a very chic “secretary outfit” – a very clean-cut, form-fitting skirt and suit - and walked a few paces behind her. Their disguises were perfect.

A couple of actors playing the part of security guards in suits also stood by a few discreet yards away, with radios and prop guns in belt holsters to hide the orange muzzle (besides hiding the orange muzzle, Jill had suggested the belt holsters because, even though they didn’t look 100% authentic, the guns would be visible, and that would have a bigger impact).

The owner of the company came out to greet her.

“Good evening, Miss Duncan. I’m Aaron Bowen, owner of the Bowen House.”

“Good evening, Mr. Bowen. Thank you for meeting with me so late in the evening. Call me Sabrina. This is my personal assistant, Miss Garrett.” She gestured to Kelly. “May I call you Aaron?”

“Of course. Thank you for your interest in donating to Bowen House. I don’t mind telling you, we badly need it ever since the trouble a couple of months ago. If you will follow me…”

“I hope you don’t mind, Aaron, I’d like to have a tour of Bowen House.”

He nervously looked at his watch. “Ahh, perhaps it would be better to get a tour of the house tomorrow morning? It’s pretty late…”

“I prefer to do it now, please? I have heard about the, ummm, ‘trouble’ you have been having.”

“You have?” He looked worried.

“Yes, and I’d like to get a look at this “new” ghost of yours that have been making trouble. Frankly speaking, I doubt the existence of ghosts, especially one that causes so much trouble. So, before committing to donating a couple of million, I insist on seeing this troublemaker ghost for myself.”

“But…”

“It comes out at around ten, right?”

“Well…”

“Great! That means we’re early.”

Aaron looked sad. “Well, if you insist.”

“If you don’t mind waiting for a few minutes, we are short one person. And, ah! Here she is!”

A beat-up Toyota pulled up, and a disheveled blonde got out. She went to the back, got out a bunch of equipment and walked up to them. It was Jill, in full disguise, but despite the unkempt look, her beauty shone through.

“Ahh! Miss Munroe,” Sabrina said in practiced, high-class snootiness. “Aaron, let me introduce you to Dr. Jill Munroe – parapsychologist and ghost hunter extraordinaire.”

“Pleased to make yo’ acquaintance,” Jill said in a very pleasing southern accent, and shook Aaron’s hand.

“You’re a ghost hunter?” Aaron asked.

“Ah prefeh the term ‘para-psychologist,’ mahself.”

“I have hired the services of Miss Munroe so that we can get to the bottom of this haunting,” Sabrina said.

“Well,” Aaron sighed, “if you insist…”

-----

“So, anyway,” Aaron said as he led Sabrina, Kelly and Jill into the inside of the building to begin his tour.

“As you know,” he said, while they walked, “the Bowen House Foundation supports pro-LGBT and pro-minority organizing and advocacy. We mostly provide legal defense and representation for disadvantaged or unrepresented sections of our community, including the LGBT community.

“Donations from private citizens provide funds, but what mostly funds the foundation is tourist trade from the Bowen Mystery House. The house is one of the most famous mansions in the state of New York, and was once the residence of my great-great-grandmother, Jillian Mae Bowen, a famous Civil War-era figure, who was later found to actually be a man. This fact has become the basis for the popularity of the house, and, of course, the ghosts.

“The house is a Queen Anne-style Victorian mansion from the late 1800s, renowned for its size and its architectural curiosities and, ever since its construction, it has been reputed to be haunted by ghosts from the Civil War. Many visitors say they’ve seen the ghosts, but I and my staff haven’t seen any, except for the one that started appearing two months ago.”

“Ah see,” Jill said as she played the role of ghostbuster, waving around little blinking props and buzzing devices. “Why do you think this ghost came out now?”

“We don’t really know.”

“Did anything happen recently?”

“Well, there was this company. We’ve always been at the edge, financially speaking, and then there was this guy from Tate Holdings, a large land and real estate developer based out of Manhattan, who offered to buy the entire property. They’re planning to build a large hotel and this is the only property in the area large enough.”

“Ahnd?”

“And… a week after we turned down his offer, that’s when the ghost started making trouble.”

“That’s a big coincidence…” Sabrina said.

“Can you tell us what this ghost has been doing since it showed up?” Jill asked.

“Basically, it just scares visitors by making sounds or appearing out of nowhere. It never did hurt any of our visitors when it first showed up, but in the past weeks, eight visitors were hurt. Some of them claimed they were pushed down the stairs and falling objects hurt several others. Last week, though, someone almost died.”

“What!”

“Yeah… It seemed that our ghost tried to push someone from the balcony. It was a miracle that man didn’t die.”

“That doesn’t sound like a ghost,” Jill said.

“Is that your expert opinion as a ghostbuster? Sorry, Miss Munroe. I’m not exactly in the best of moods.”

“It’s all right. What does this ghost look like?”

“Those that see it say that it’s a pale blonde wearing a turn-of-the-century evening gown with short sleeves, short gloves and a very wide skirt with hoops and petticoats. If the accounts are to be believed, the ghost sounds like how Jillian Mae is supposed to look like. The ghost also wears a large necklace of pearls, just like Jillian Mae.”

“Part of the controversy, Ah suppose.”

“Yes.”

“So, is this where the ghost comes out?” Jill gestured to the surrounding area.

“Around this hallway, yes.” He pointed to a door in a secluded end of the hall. “It… she… usually comes out from that part of the hall, and then walks across to the other side. She’s usually glimpsed from the window gliding from one side to the other.” He pointed to the large window. “That window, in fact.”

Jill tried the door.

“It’s locked,” she said.

“That’s strange,” Aaron said as he unlocked it. “This is usually left unlocked.”

Jill opened the door and noted something on the floor. She also noted the small access door.

“What is that?” she asked.

“That’s the fire escape door. There’s a small fire escape ladder outside that leads to the back lawn.”

“Ah see.” She went to the window and peeked outside. “Sabrina?”

“Yes, Jill?”

“Ah need you and Kelly to go to the back lawn. Wait for mah signal, okay?”

Sabrina nodded and they walked downstairs.

“What was that about?” Aaron said.

“Oh, nuthin,’” Jill said. “By any chance, do you have any rope?”

-----

Jill and Aaron had retreated downstairs, had coffee in the sitting room just below the hall, and chatted. Jill was hard put to invent enough details of her fictitious ghost hunter job, but talking to Aaron was fun.

After a few minutes, they started to hear a moan.

“Oh, my God!” Aaron whispered, and stood up. “It’s true! There’s a ghost!”

Jill pulled him down.

“Jus’ stay calm, Aaron,” she said, pulling him back down on his seat. “We jus’ need to wait.”

Jill sipped her coffee while Aaron fidgeted.

“Wooooo….” they heard the ghost moan.

Aaron was about ready to jump out of his skin, but Jill calmed him down and held his hand.

“It’ll be over in jus’ a sec.”

“Wooooo…” the ghost moaned even louder. Jill giggled.

“Wooooo…” the ghost seemed to moan at the top of its lungs (that sounded weird but that was how it sounded).

“Wooooo… oh!”

After that exclamation, they heard the loud sound of someone tripping, and then a scream.

Behind them, someone in a period costume fell.

Calmly, Jill raised her walkie-talkie.

“Okay, Sabrina,” she said into the radio, “you can go to their car, now. Aaron? Can you call the police, and ask them to send an ambulance, too?”

Jill calmly finished her coffee, stood up and walked to where the person fell. She brought out her little revolver and pointed it at the moaning man in the 1800s evening dress and blonde wig.

“My God,” Aaron said in recognition, “that’s the guy from Tate Holdings!”

“Ah know,” Jill said, pulled back her gun’s hammer, and pointed it at him. “Sorry, dude,” she said in her normal voice and accent. “But you’re busted.” She turned to Aaron. “I wonder if this counts as ghostbusting,” she giggled.

-----

Later, Jill, Sabrina and Kelly came clean, and explained to Aaron who they were, and that they were investigating this supposed haunting. They were glad they were able to unmask the “ghost.”

Apparently, the man was doing all he could to force the owners of the Bowen House to sell, so his company could start construction on their hotel. Tate Holdings had disavowed the actions of their employee, and said they would start their own prosecution of the man.

Aaron nodded. “But I don’t understand how you pieced it together, Jill.”

“Well, the fact that the ghost only came out after you turned down the offer was a big clue, but what clinched it was what I saw in the little storage room, and out back.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw a car with a driver parked outside, conveniently hidden under a tree, and a skateboard in the storage room.”

“A skateboard!”

“Yep! It’s what he used to smoothly ‘drift’ from one side of the hall to the other, and make people think it’s a ghost.”

“And…”

“And, he got tripped up by the rope we stretched across the hallway.” And everyone laughed.

-----

Jill turned over the two million dollar check that was promised, but it was actually in the name of the Charles Townsend Detective Agency. Aaron gratefully accepted the check. Sabrina said that their boss was very interested in helping the Bowen House Foundation in its work and, besides, this was tax deductible. Aaron laughed.

Aaron asked who had hired them, and Sabrina explained that it was someone from the Bowen House Foundation’s board, but he asked his identity to be kept confidential.

As Aaron walked them to their cars, he pulled Jill back a little.

“Jill,” he said, “I cannot say how much I appreciate what you girls have done.”

Jill shrugged. “It was nothing, Aaron. It’s our job.”

“But also, I’m curious - your name…”

“My name?”

“Did you know that Munroe is actually a Scottish name?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yes. Jillian Mae’s family was from Scotland. And the reason I know is because her full female name, before she got married, was ‘Jillian Mae Munroe.’ I guess her husband didn’t know she was really a man.”

“Huh?”

“I’m saying my great-great-grandmother was also named Jill Munroe.”

“Jill!” Sabrina called from the limo. “Look!” She pointed back to Bowen House.

In the moonlight, they could see the silhouette of a woman in a period dress standing on the roof.

In moments, she spread a pair of wings and flew away.

“What was that!?” Jill exclaimed. “A ghost?”

“It was an angel,” Aaron said, “an angel named Jill.”

---end---

Note - The pictures were collages made from publicly accessible pictures of the Charlie’s Angels movies and TV shows, and other pictures. No ownerhip is claimed. No IP infringement is intended.

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