Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

Bright lights shone down on the stage illuminating a redheaded woman as she paced back and forth before the boisterous crowd. A microphone was held in her hand like the hilt of a sword ready to strike at any and all that stood in her way. She was clad for battle in a skintight red satin cocktail dress that hugged every inch of her generous curves. She stared out into the crowd with a sly smirk on her lips as she waited for their laughter to quieten.

“Well,” she purred into the microphone, “I don’t suppose I’m allowed to finish my set tonight without telling you all a little bit about myself, am I?”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically.

“I’m twenty-four years old… Ancient I know! I’m a Libra which means I’m meant to be pleasant, calm, and mature…” She paused for effect and grinned. “But fuck that, I should have been a Scorpio.”

The crowd laughed.

“I’m depressed, which you can tell because I’m up on stage with a microphone trying to make people like me.”

“And despite my accent,” she began, slipping a little of her native twang into her voice. “I’ve never slept with a cowboy.”

The crowd roared.

“Now can any of you tell me why that would be a terrible idea?” she asked the assembled crowd, “And no, that guy you met on Grindr with the plastic hat with fifteen STDs doesn’t count.”

There was a wave of shouted calls and suggestions but the woman shook her glossy red mane and chuckled. “Not a single right answer, but then again this is Los Angeles, I don’t think I was going to see many experts.”

She paused for effect and wrinkled her nose. “Can you imagine the ball sweat from spending that much time in a saddle? No? Trust me, it's bad, No way am I getting my face anywhere near that level of nasty.”

The crowd collectively grimaced and cheered.

“This is why all the barrel racing girls go for the bronc riders. They spend so little time in the saddle it’s almost fresh after the rodeo is done!”

The woman paused for effect and raised her eyebrows and grinned, “That and finding a cowboy that can last eight seconds or longer is so impressive they give them goddamn awards.”

The crowd exploded into laughter and cheers.

“Give it up for our host tonight Dorothy Russo” The woman laughed, “The mistress of ungraceful dismounts!”

A short-haired redhead behind the bar flipped her the bird.

The crowd exploded. The woman waved to the crowd and clipped the microphone back into the stand. “Pitchers, I’ve been Mia Calafia, thank’s for having me. Now go get drunk before they let Miss Teak on stage, it makes it better. Goodnight!”

The crowd laughed and clapped as the woman left the stage with a wave. Grabbing a bottle of water from a stage tech, she downed half the bottle before Miss Russo made her way over through the mass of bodies in the nightclub.

“Really going to end on a punchline about the one paying you?”

Mia grinned at the woman and finished the bottle. “That’s exactly why you pay me.”

Dorothy rolled her eyes, “I created a monster.”

Mia sauntered her way through to the dressing room after signing a few autographs and began the long process of transforming herself into her far less glamorous and boring version of herself.

Mia Calafia, a tawdry play on an adult entertainer’s name raised the odd eyebrow, but more often raised a chuckle. It was a useful hook for a drag queen whose specialty was insult comedy. Thirty minutes later, nobody noticed a small skinny individual in a hoodie slip out through the smoking area door of the nightclub and into the Los Angeles night.

The pickup truck was obnoxious in LA traffic, but it was one of the few things Harry had brought from home. There hadn’t been a lot he wanted but his independence was one of the few things he cherished. That truck had taken him over nine hundred miles from Montana all the way down to the city of stars on the coast of the Pacific. Harry Dalton drove mindlessly through the late-night traffic, his mind still somewhere in that nightclub.

Growing up had been painful. He had always been different from his peers. Being different in a state like Montana was a bad thing. Picked out quickly by the school bullies, he was on the receiving end of more than enough harassment and ass-kickings from his peers. His parents and the local cops didn’t join them, but they didn’t stop it either. Harry was convinced they thought that it would ‘correct’ him. Their disapproval and inaction was more than he could handle.

As soon as he’d graduated high school, Harry left home for college in Los Angeles and had not looked back since that day. He would miss the wild open spaces of Montana. The state, his home, was a beautiful place that was beyond compare. The mountains and valleys stretched to the stars at night and the sun by day. This city was entirely different; Its valleys were streets and they formed a grand concrete prison; a storage rack for humanity. He hated it, but it was a small price to pay to be somewhere he might be accepted as who he was, not who they expected him to be.

Perhaps it was the harassment of his peers and the inaction of everyone else that had drawn him to his career. He knew what the law was meant to be, but he also saw how it was enforced in practice and it had made him feel helpless. Upon graduation, he’d applied to the academy and joined the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department as his own way of fighting back. Perhaps it was his chance to be the kind of Officer he’d been so desperate for growing up. It was idealistic and the reality was sometimes far from ideal, but he felt as though it made a difference. If he could be the ear and the defender of just one person like him that had cried out for help, he would have made the world a better place.

He wasn’t sure how he’d been dragged into this whole circus he called his life. Getting on stage at clubs in the darkness of night and wearing a badge during the day. Both jobs were technically in a uniform of sorts, he felt like two entirely different people when he was moving in each world. Who was Harry Dalton though? He hoped he could keep the two worlds far apart; Law Enforcement was not as open-minded as the city it policed.

Harry lived in a small apartment overlooking the beach down in the bohemian Venice Beach area of Los Angeles. It wasn’t the ranch at home and it was almost constantly noisy but he was afforded a great view of the Pacific if he ignored a few condos and trees. It was good to be able to look in at least one direction and see the horizon.

Parking his truck in the bay beneath the apartment, he let himself in and went straight to bed. In a few hours, he would be up again. This time in a different costume where people were far less excited to see him.

The surf crashed against the shore like a volcanic eruption as the amber glow of the sunset glinted off the water. Harry paddled hard through the waves toward deeper water. Surfing was a glorious escape from the pressures of daily life in LA. Out here was about as close as he could get to his native Montana without driving hours outside the city; His home was a wild lonely beautiful place that he missed dearly. Out on the waves he was alone in nature’s grasp, even as he looked inland toward the city's concrete sprawl. Turning on his board, he dug hard as the wave rose behind him. Catching its leading edge, he stood with practiced ease as his board began to dip, the wave swelled around him.

The ride was always exhilarating. The natural power of the ocean was harnessed briefly as he raced toward the shore. Like life, it was fleeting and over before you really knew it. After the wave deposited him in the shallows he stood, pushing his hair out of his face. Glancing at the dying sun, he calculated he had time for at least one more wave before he had to head back to real life.

Slinging the board ahead of him, he began to paddle back out toward deeper water. Surfing was something he had picked up when he first got to LA for college. He was fresh from the mountains and valleys of Montana and the ocean provided one of the few escapes from the noise and exhausting vibrance of college life. If it had felt like he had a choice, he would never have left his home. Nothing, he knew, is ever really that simple.

Harry’s childhood had been a difficult affair. His family owned a ranch outside Livingstone and were more than comfortable enough. The problem hadn’t been abuse, not in the classical sense at least. Harry had known he was different from other boys from a fairly young age. He was gay, which simply didn’t fit with life in the last bastion of the Old West. He was bullied in school and while his parents technically loved him, they did nothing to stop it. They hoped that a little tough love might encourage him to be what they expected.

One of Harry’s greatest loves was riding. On horseback, he was so very far away from the abuse of the others his age. On a horse, he was their equal or better. Out in the wilderness, he could be anyone he wanted, it didn’t matter what people thought of him. His brother and sister had remained civil but he knew he was a disappointment to them all. Montana just wasn’t the kind of place he fitted in; not belonging in a place you loved crushed a person’s soul.

Reaching deeper water, Harry straddled his board and rested after battling out through the surf and tide. The sea breeze whipped against his face and the salty spray was wonderfully refreshing. He closed his eyes and allowed the world to cease to exist for a moment; this was his Montana now.

“Just can’t face going back in huh?” a voice called from a short distance away breaking his moment.

Harry opened his eyes and glanced back over his shoulder. Another man was paddling out to catch one last wave like him.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, sometimes I just like to pretend I don’t have to.”

The man smirked. He was a little older than Harry and had short dark hair and a smattering of scruffy facial hair. Unlike Harry’s wetsuit, he simply wore bright tropical board shorts.

“Richard,” he nodded a greeting, offering a hand between their boards.

Harry took the offered hand and shook it. “Harry.”

“I just need this sometimes. Nobody can call or bother me out here,” the man laughed, rolling his eyes. “Going back means a bunch of missed calls and needy people.”

Harry laughed along with him as the two bobbed in the swell. “I know the feeling, can’t feel alone back there.”

“I work in the legal field, I don’t think I can go a moment without being bothered about something,” Richard admitted, shaking his head. “Plus I spend so damn long at a desk or in a courtroom that I don’t get as much fresh air as I’d like.”

Harry nodded. “I spend a lot of my day cooped up in a car. It’s just constant noise and people and I need some time alone to clear my head.”

Richard regarded him for a moment as though trying to get a read of him. “Let me guess,” he mused regarding Harry with a critical eye. “You’re certainly not a cab driver. Give me a little more to work with?”

Harry smiled. “I deal with a lot of people, not all of them happy. I have to wear a uniform, and I don’t get paid anywhere near enough.”

Richard stroked the scruffy stubble on his chin theatrically. “People don’t like you, you wear a uniform and you get paid poorly… plus a lot of time in a vehicle.” He smirked. “You must be a bus driver.”

Harry shook his head with a grin. “Not even close, but I do ferry people around quite often.”

“Uber to the rich and famous?”

Harry shook his head. “I’m a cop.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a prosecutor,” Richard smirked. “We’re kinda on the same team.”

“So you were just pulling my chain, huh?”

Richard smiled. “A little.” He raised a leg up on his board and stretched. “I just like to have a little fun.”

“Is that what this is? You make fun of random guys when you surf?”

The man laughed and shook his head. “No, I just don’t take life that seriously to be honest.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a large wave heading toward them from deeper water. “Time to go,” Richard grinned and began paddling hard towards the shore. Harry turned and followed suit.

The wave crested and caught his board, Harry stood and found his balance. Richard was sweeping ahead on the leading edge of the wave, the man was obviously an experienced surfer. Harry found his groove and dug in as the wave began to rise as it approached the shore. Riding a surfboard was a lot like riding a horse: you had to be fluid, move with your board and steer it gently. Harry swept down the wave and cut a wall of spray.

He hit the shallows and the ride finally came to a stop. Hauling up his board he walked ashore regretfully.

“That one was gnarly,” Richard laughed from behind him as he hauled his own board back to dry land.

Harry grabbed his towel and began to dry himself. “All good things come to an end.”

The older man nodded and grabbed his own towel and ran it through his short dark hair. He gave Harry a look. “I might be reading into things a little,” he said with a quizzical expression. “But I’m a pretty good judge of people.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and shot him a look, “you thought I was a bus driver.”

Richard smirked and waved his hand dismissively before taking on a more serious expression. “Can I buy you a drink perhaps?”

Harry wrapped his towel around his shoulders over his wetsuit and looked over at the man. He was handsome, there was no doubt about that. He had classically refined features and stylish neatly trimmed stubble. He was well-muscled and athletic in build. Harry could tell that the man knew he was attractive. He hadn’t pegged him as gay from their brief conversation, however. That was something he was still woefully hopeless at.

Harry thought for a moment as he dried himself off, “Sure, I’d like that.”

Richard grinned broadly. “I’m not far from here, you local?”

Harry nodded.

“Al-Dente’s at Six?” Richard asked over his shoulder as he walked away up the beach.

Harry threw his hands up and laughed at how sudden it all was. “Sure,” he called, shaking his head. How had he managed to get asked out so casually?

He shook his head at the absurdity of it all as he slipped his sandals on before carrying his board back up the beach toward his apartment.

It was just before six that evening when Harry pushed the door open to Al-Dente’s restaurant and bar. He’d managed to shower and wash the salt from his hair. He’d changed into something a little more presentable than a wetsuit. He’d been uncertain as to what to wear for a date, especially with someone like an attorney. He’d been on a handful of dates since moving to LA and hooked up a couple of times but in reality, he never really knew the rules. This was the first time he’d really been asked out like that by someone. It was so normal it felt unusual. The man, Richard, was so sure of himself. It was a feeling Harry had never really understood. Confidence always seemed to be something he had to force or find behind a mask when he was on stage.

Al-Dente’s wasn’t exactly high society but it wasn’t a dive bar either, Harry had selected a pair of faded jeans and a simple gray T-shirt; it was simple and stylish but it didn’t make any particular statements.

He approached the bar and waited for an opportunity to order a drink. He needed something to calm his nerves before the man arrived. The place was busy but not crowded and there was music playing in the background behind the buzz of conversation. The place had a good atmosphere. It was a relaxed environment, there was no pressure.

He didn’t get a chance to order before he felt a hand on his back. He turned around and found himself looking up at the man from the beach. He looked completely different; he wore a crisp blue cotton shirt with the top two buttons open and a pair of dark slacks. His hair was neat and he was smiling broadly. “Hi, have you been waiting long?”

Harry shook his head. “Just a few minutes really. You look different with clothes on.” He blushed, immediately regretting his choice of words.

Richard laughed and ignored the choice of words. “I slip back into a legal eagle when I’m not being a surfer bum.”

“It suits you,” Harry answered, noting Richard hadn’t removed the hand from his back.

The barman approached and Richard ordered a beer and looked at Harry questioningly. He indicated the same and the man ordered two. They managed to find a relatively quiet booth in a corner and settled in with their drinks.

“So you’re not from around here are you?” Richard started out, breaking the ice. “I hear an accent but It’s pretty neutral?”

“Montana,” Harry offered, “Near Bozeman originally, came here for college and stayed.”

“I’ve had a few colleagues that attended UCLA, it’s a good school. I’m from here myself. Born and raised under the California sun.”

“You’ve surfed all your life?” Harry asked.

Richard nodded. “Since I was a teenager, I love it. I know it doesn’t fit with the image of a prim and proper attorney but I’m not entirely conventional I suppose.”

“I only discovered it when I got here. Montana doesn’t exactly have a huge surfing scene.” Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s one of the few escapes I have when this place gets too concrete.”

“Not used to city life yet huh?” Richard took a sip of his drink.

Harry shook his head. “No, I still wake up at the slightest sound at night, even after six years.”

Richard smiled sympathetically. “It’s a different way of life,” he agreed. “I hope you don’t think I was too forward making assumptions about you. I have been told I can be a little direct at times.”

Harry waved a hand dismissively. “I suppose it comes with your job. I have to admit I didn’t see it myself. You, I mean.” he gestured vaguely.

Richard nodded. “I’ll be honest with you, I’m bisexual. I’ve dated men and women for years and I’m open about it, it’s just who I am. I don’t want to let who I love define who I am. I find people beautiful and it’s more than a superficial thing; it’s about the person.”

“That’s a very LA thing to say,” Harry observed. “Not quite the same thing where I’m from.”

Richard nodded. “Montana’s a pretty red state I imagine.”

Harry nodded.

“You weren’t very hard to read though,” the man admitted switching topics. “Not many guys are as pretty as you are.”

Harry blushed. “I don’t think I’d say pretty,” he protested sheepishly.

“I think you are,” Richard statedly bluntly with a gentle smile as he reached across the table to touch Harry’s fingers.

Harry froze, his heart beating faster. “Thank you,” he managed to whisper, feeling extremely embarrassed. “You’re quite handsome.”

Richard smiled softly. “You’re not used to being pursued are you?”

Harry wasn’t sure how to feel. He shook his head slightly.

Richard looked extremely serious for a moment. “I like to think I’m a gentleman. I won’t force myself on you and I don’t engage in hookups or one-night stands. I’m not looking to embarrass you, but I find you extremely attractive and delightful to be around even after this short time.”

“Nobody has ever called me those things.” Harry looked down at the table.

Richard reached across the table and raised Harry’s chin with his fingers. “It’s my job to meet someone and know as much as I can about them as quickly as possible. Often a case will depend on getting a first impression right, I became quite good at it. It’s also a pretty cutthroat world out there so I’ve learned to never miss an opportunity.”

Harry blinked. “I’m an opportunity?”

Richard shook his head, “I like to take chances in life. I meet someone I want to know better and I take it. You’re someone I want to get to know better.”

“All that from twenty minutes on a surfboard?”

The man smirked. “Let me tell you what I’ve learned so far and you can correct me if I’m wrong ok?”

Harry nodded.

“You’re from a state where few residents ever leave by choice because frankly, it’s beautiful. You live in the city still but still don’t like it and try to escape when you can which means this is a refuge, not a home. You’re a cop, but you’re not some macho douche that wants power. That means you care about people even if they don’t care about you which speaks to an inner sensitivity and care for others. You have a sense of humor that you use to hide your insecurity.”

“I thought you were a lawyer, not a psychiatrist?” Harry asked, feeling as though he was transparent.

Richard smiled, “Similar jobs and skills but you prove my point; more comedy to deflect.”

“Yeah ok you can stop analyzing me, I get it, I’m interesting.”

Harry paused and tried to redirect the conversation toward the other man, “I know so very little about you though, how do I know I’ll like you too? Is there more to you than the courtroom charm and good looks?”

Richard smiled and sipped his beer and shrugged. “I’m afraid you already know so very much about me, I’m an open book.”

“So you’re an attorney, a surfer, a psychiatrist, and a prolific pickup artist?”

“Pretty much yes,” he smiled nonchalantly past his beer bottle.

The two sat and talked for over an hour. Richard, Harry realized, was as open as he purported to be. The man was extremely charming and self-confident, but it wasn’t a false confidence put on as an act; he was comfortable and it was an extremely attractive quality. Harry enjoyed how the man treated him. It was a very new experience for him. Not having dated at home in Montana, his only experiences were the fumbled young experiences of his college days. Those were mediocre at best and soul-crushing at their worst. Since graduating, he’d dated on and off, but he always seemed to end up going out with guys that were obsessed with themselves and only saw him as a physical being. He had spent a great deal of time single and was comfortable in that fact as he hadn’t found the right person but one day might. Richard was a whole different world he found himself in.

Richard made him feel special, important, and valued. He wasn’t a piece of meat or a conquest for someone to use and throw away as had happened in the past. His heart had been broken more than once and this kind, caring gentleman was a salve on that raw wound.
They had left Al-Dente’s shortly before eight and Richard had walked him back to his apartment a few blocks away. The man had shown no fear of holding his hand the entire way there. It was an intimate gesture that made his heart flutter. Conversation between the two had been light and interesting and they arrived outside his apartment sooner than he’d hoped. They stood for a moment near his door.

“I had a lovely night,” Harry said quietly. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure was all mine Harry. I would very much like to do this again, but properly,” Richard replied, stroking his fingers along Harry’s cheek.

Butterflies fluttered in Harry’s chest at the touch.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“I know it’s only been a drink, but I would really like to kiss you if that’s ok?” Richard said softly.

Harry couldn’t speak, he nodded slightly and looked up at the man in front of him under the pale light of the porch.

Richard lent down and brushed a strand of hair from Harry’s eyes and gazed into them for a moment. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered and gently pressed his lips into Harry’s, his arms wrapping around his waist.

Harry felt like he was melting at the man’s touch. He could feel power and control in the man’s gentle and tender grasp. He closed his eyes and slipped his hands around Richard’s neck and felt his lips part.

The two kissed for what felt like hours but in reality, was only mere moments. Richard gently released Harry and stroked his cheek. He reached into a pocket and slipped a business card into Harry’s hand.

“This has my personal cell on it. I’d really be honored if you’d call me,” he asked with a vulnerability Harry hadn’t expected to see. This man actually was hoping he would call him, not demanding or telling, but hoping.

Harry nodded and smiled. “I will,” he answered as he slid through the doorway to his apartment. Closing the door behind him Harry released a breath and lent against the closed door.

Harry wasn’t sure what he’d just experienced. Their date wasn’t anything like any of his past experiences. It had been romantic and exciting. For once, he felt as though he had been respected by a date. This was a man that wanted to spend time with him and get to know him better. Harry realized he wanted the same thing very much. He fingered the business card and glanced at the number on the card.

Richard Knight

He was going to call.

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Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

Harry rolled over in his bed and peered at the alarm clock with bleary eyes. He thought back to the night before and a flutter of excitement rippled through his stomach. He had been on dates and met up for drinks with a few people over the last couple of years, but last night had felt like an almost magical experience. The kiss at the end of the night was something he hadn’t expected or even dreamed possible. Even now, he could almost feel Richard’s lips on his. Was this what he had been missing the entire time?

He smiled to himself and looked over at the card on the nightstand. How long was he supposed to wait to call? The morning? The night? A few days? Richard seemed like a man who had the answers to all things romantic but Harry had no idea what he was supposed to do. Feeling sure about something for the first time, he picked up his cell and entered the numbers. He hesitated for a moment, his finger hovering over the call button before pressing it and holding it to his ear as he lay there in bed. The phone rang twice before it was picked up.

“Richard Knight.”

Harry paused for a moment, “Hello, Richard? It’s Harry, did I catch you at a bad time?”

The tone shifted almost immediately. “No of course not, I’ve been at work for an hour already. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good, still in bed actually,” Harry answered honestly. “You told me to call you and I realized I didn’t know how long I was supposed to wait.”

Richard laughed on the other end of the phone. “That keen huh? No, seriously I have no clue either. It’s fine and no, I asked you to, I didn’t tell you. I am however pleased you did.”

“I know this is going to sound so silly, but I really enjoyed last night, I’ve never woken up this happy.”

“You did me the honor by accepting. I had a great time too. I’d love to take you out properly, what’s your week looking like?” Richard asked.

Harry considered for a moment, “I’m working today and tomorrow, but I’m off Friday and Saturday, would that work?”

“Friday it is then, I’m in court most of the week but we should let out early Friday. I know where you live so, I’ll pick you up at seven, dress nice.”

“Sounds great,” Harry answered shyly.

“I’ll see you then,” Richard replied, “I really enjoyed last night. That kiss was pretty amazing too.”

Harry smiled. “Me too, I’ll see you then.”

He hung up and closed his eyes and smiled to himself. Harry slipped out of bed and went to get a shower before getting ready for work.

“Look, we can sort this all out down at the station.”

“Fuck you man, I didn’t do nothin',” yelled the suspect. “And you look like a fucking fag, you’ll feel me up.”

Harry rolled his eyes and raised his open palms towards the man. “Look, you’re coming down to the station but this doesn’t have to be a problem.” Harry turned and glanced at his partner, Deputy Kelly Anderson. “Please feel free to step in any time you want.”

The redhead chuckled and sipped her coffee as she lent against the hood of their cruiser outside the strip mall where the man had been caught shoplifting. “Nah you got this.”

Harry gripped the man’s arm and turned behind him, twisting the limb up into a hold that used the man’s own resistance against him. The shoplifter yelped in pain and the fight left him rapidly. “Okay man shit stop oww,” he cried, still wriggling in the token effort of escape.

Harry closed the handcuffs over the man’s hands and led him to the front of the police car.

“I’m going to pat you down. Is there anything on you that’s going to poke, stick or stab me?” Harry asked robotically, the man stunk of urine.

“I don’t want you touching me faggot,” he yelled. “Get her to do it,” he pleaded, looking over at Anderson.

“I like dick more than he does, how’d that improve things?” she chuckled.

Harry ignored the man and patted him down in view of their patrol car’s camera as efficiently and professionally as possible. He pulled several pairs of women's underwear out of his coat pockets.

“And you had the stones to call me names?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Man they weren’t for me!” the man protested weakly, “I was just going to piss in them and sell ‘em.”

Anderson grimaced. “I think I need therapy.”

After processing their creative entrepreneur, the pair left the station and headed back out into traffic to continue their shift. Anderson glanced over at her partner and frowned.

“Why do you let scumbags like that bother you?” she asked.

Kelly had always been incredibly direct with Harry. They’d been partners since they’d finished training. As long as he’d known her, he appreciated her extremely no-nonsense approach. Despite being a native Californian, it reminded him of a lot of people back home.

“I don’t, not really,” Harry replied without looking away from the traffic. “It’s just frustrating.”

“Yeah, but what’s it going to do really? You are who you are, who gives a fuck.”

“I give a fuck, I had to deal with this shit growing up when I didn’t even admit to it. They all knew regardless, and now I don’t exactly hide it, people think they have the right to call me anything they want.”

“Funnily enough you get treated like us.” Anderson laughed.

Harry looked across at his partner with curiosity.

“You get treated like female cops do,” she smirked. “You need to work twice as hard to get half the respect from people. People think they can attack you for any reason because you’re smaller, weaker, and in their eyes, inferior.”

“Thanks, Doctor Phil.”

“I’m serious, you’re a great guy, but other than having a dick you’re basically one of us.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard myself described that way before.” Harry grimaced.

“Look at how you dealt with that asshole earlier. If you’d been one of the guys, you’d have used your power and size to force him to comply, told him to be quiet, and made him do what you wanted. Hell even if you couldn’t muscle the douchebag, you’d have frustrated yourself trying. Instead, you asked me for help and when you had to do it yourself you used his strength against him and let his crap roll off you.”

“Why didn’t you help?”

“Because you gotta learn this life lesson yourself, girl.”

Harry scowled. “Leave it out.”

“You know I’m just kidding you, but come on, you’re prettier than me, it’s not right.”

“I can’t control how I look, and honestly, I like it but I’m not… a girl.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” Kelly shrugged. “What the hell does being male even do for you? It's 2023, who cares? I mean you dress up as one, just come over to the team for reals.”

Harry cringed and looked pleadingly at Kelly. “I know ok? I have to explain that subject already so leave it out.”

“Wait you have to tell someone you do drag… that means, you’re seeing someone?” She asked with excitement. “You’ve got to tell me.”

Harry turned onto a side street and pulled the car over before turning to face his partner properly. “I met him when I was surfing last night and I wasn’t looking or expecting it. One minute there he was and things just, happened.”

Harry went on to recount his meeting with Richard while they were surfing and their evening together. Kelly seemed to lap up every detail with great excitement.

“He sounds wonderful,” she beamed. “A suave gentleman to sweep you off your feet.”

Harry smiled. “It’s the first time I’ve felt this way. He makes me feel special and protected.”

“God, you’re such a girl.”

Harry was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I do wonder sometimes.”

“You don’t really seem like much of a boy.”

“You make me sound like a kid.”

Kelly shook her head, “There’s nothing manly about you.”

“That really should bother me more, shouldn’t it? I’ve been fighting that all my life and It’s just so big I don’t even know where to start.”

“When are you telling Richard about your nightlife?”

Harry shrugged. “Friday I guess. I’m seeing him again for dinner. It still bothers me he pegged me as gay so damn fast. He’s so comfortable in himself that it’s weird. I thought he was cute but I wasn’t going to even hint at anything or come on to him, he seemed so straight acting.”

“You’re fine-featured and pretty, soft-spoken and not that macho.” Kelly ticked off on her fingers. “Even that dumbass today saw it.”

Harry knew what she meant. It had been that way his entire life. He had self-confidence and strength but it simply came out in a different way to guys around him growing up. Then the beatings started and he withdrew those parts of himself and hid. Moving to California had allowed him to be more like his old self and he had found some element of confidence again. He could stand up for himself, he wasn’t a wimp but no matter how hard he tried he just stuck out.

The rest of their shift was a parade of routine calls and duties. Before he knew it he was home again and feeling more confused than ever. Kelly’s words had struck home in a way she always managed to find. That woman was like an emotional icepick. He guessed being the only girl of four kids would do that to someone.

He dismissed the thoughts and went to bed, Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

It was six thirty on Friday evening when Harry checked his appearance in the bathroom mirror for the fifteenth time. He had rummaged through his clothing to find something suitable for the evening’s date. His selection wasn’t entirely significant and tended toward the more casual style. He had plenty of clothes, just not for him. He’d chosen a white tank top under a blue dress shirt with a handful of buttons closed and a pair of slim-fitting black slacks. He wasn’t sure if it was right, he didn’t really know where they would be going. He knew he looked smart enough for anything short of a Michelin-star restaurant in this town.

Just after the clock struck seven o’clock, the doorbell rang and Harry felt his heart jump. He waited a moment to pretend he hadn’t been pacing in the hallway and opened the front door.

Outside, Richard was leaning against the railing with a smile on his face. He was dressed in cream slacks and a salmon button-up shirt that was open at the collar, he looked gorgeous.

Standing upright he drew a bunch of flowers from behind his back and held them out toward Harry. “I wasn’t sure of your favorite, so I hope these are ok. I’m never quite sure about the etiquette of flowers. I just know I wanted to get a beautiful person something beautiful” He smiled sheepishly. Harry accepted the bouquet of pink lilies.

“I should put these in water, would you like to come inside for a moment?” He asked, blushing at the gorgeous gift. Richard nodded and followed him through to the kitchen of his apartment while Harry looked around for a vase.

“Your home is lovely,” Richard observed, glancing around the living area. “And you look wonderful.”

Harry blushed as he placed the flowers into the vase. “Thank you.”

“I have a reservation for us at the Venetian.” Richard added. “We have some time.”

Harry turned and faced the man feeling suddenly underdressed. “The Venetian? Do you think I should change?”

“You look great just the way you are.” Richard checked his watch and smiled. “My car’s downstairs, shall we?”

The two descended the stairs from Harry’s second-floor apartment and stepped out onto the street. The boardwalk was at the end of the block to the left and to his right, the lights of Venice’s downtown glittered.

Harry gasped when he saw Richard’s car. Parked at the curbside was a silver Porsche sports car. The low-slung monster sat glistening in the sunset.

“You don’t see many of those where I’m from. It’s beautiful.”

Richard smirked. “Got to spend my money on something to woo the beautiful people of Los Angeles.”

Harry cocked his head to one side and smiled. “You think flowers and a fast car can make me fall for you?”

“I certainly hope it’s a start, but I was banking on my winning personality.” Richard quipped, holding open the door for Harry.

Smiling his thanks, Harry slipped into the brown leather interior of the sports car. Richard joined him a moment later and pulled away from the curb with surprising gentleness. Harry had almost expected him to peel out to show off as so many men did. Despite owning a high-performance car, he drove with the care of someone that appreciated its value.

The conversation during the drive was light and casual. Harry still felt quite intimidated by the entire scenario. None of his prior dates had been like this. Richard was clearly a man that was able to have anyone he wanted, but he seemed to really want Harry to like him. They arrived at the restaurant shortly before seven-thirty and pulled into the valet spot. Richard made his way around to the passenger side and opened the door for Harry then offered his hand. Harry blushed and felt slightly awkward but the valet paid them no heed and took the car away. Richard smiled and offered him his hand to hold. “Shall we?”

Harry nodded as Richard led the way inside. The Maitre D welcomed Richard with familiarity and led them over toward a secluded table near the patio. After they were seated, Richard ordered a bottle of red wine and the man disappeared off to fetch it.

“This place is lovely,” Harry mused. “I do feel a little out of place. Do you come here often?”

Richard nodded. “I do come here on occasion although it’s more often for business than pleasure; the owner is a client. Enough about me though, tell me about yourself?”

Harry lowered his eyes and glanced at the menu in front of him before returning his gaze to Richard.

“Well, I already told you I grew up in rural Montana. I didn’t exactly have a great time in school, but I loved spending time in the mountains on horseback. I’d help around the ranch and I spent a lot of time on my own I guess; Things were pretty unfriendly when you were like me.”

Richard frowned sympathetically. “That’s really unfair but I get it. I was lucky to grow up in California where it’s just not as big a deal.”

“I knew of course,” Harry admitted. “I just couldn’t express it or I’d get my ass kicked. The local cops didn’t seem to care, nor did my parents. They gave me the whole ‘tough love’ approach. It’s why I became a cop after college; I wanted to try and be the officer I would have wanted.”

“That’s the same reason I got into law myself.” Richard smiled. “I want to ensure justice is served and the guilty pay for what they do to people’s lives.”

The waiter interrupted their conversation with a delicious bottle of red wine and took their orders. Once he had gone, Richard raised the question Harry had been wondering when he’d have to answer.

“So, other than saving people, busting bad guys and surfing, what do you do with your time?”

Harry sipped his wine to buy himself a moment before placing the glass down on the table. Rather get it out now than wait till the end of the night and suffer the disappointment. He knew the whole thing could be a turn-off for some guys so he was tactful about its placement in dating conversation.

“I do drag actually.” He replied in what he hoped was a conversational tone. “I’m a comedian.”

Richard raised his eyebrows. “Really? I don’t think I would have expected you to be a comedian. You’re very attractive and you’re incredibly interesting but I must admit, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you tell a joke.”

Harry shrugged. “Weird I know, but I only tend to get funny when I’m in-character.”

“Do you have any pictures? Of you in character that is?”

Harry pulled out his phone and slid the device across the table to the other man. He’d selected one of his promotional photos for his standup act at a bar in Hollywood. She was wearing a pink bias-cut cocktail dress and her hair was a blend of blue and pink. Her makeup was dramatic but he knew it was not overdone or clownish. She was striking a quirky but attractive appearance that Harry felt was a good balance of her personality.

“Mia Calafia,” he explained. “My funnier half.”

Richard looked at the photograph for a moment and grinned. “You know it’s the great thing about being Bi, I think you’re both hot.”

Harry blushed. “It doesn’t bother you?”

Richard shook his head. “I find it quite interesting actually. I’m not a big scene guy but it’s a dramatic art and one that requires a great deal of talent to do well. By the looks of this photograph, you’re certainly talented.”

“I found that world by accident when I first got here. I was encouraged to try it and I discovered I became a totally different person. Unlike me, she’s confident, funny, popular, and beautiful.”

Richard shook his head. “You’re beautiful all the time.”

Harry sipped his wine. “It’s different, It’s like I become a totally separate person. She’s everything I’m not and I really enjoy entertaining people.”

“I suppose it makes a change from people cursing you out or fighting you for trying to do your job?”

Harry nodded. “When I’m Mia, I feel like I’m wearing a suit of armor, people’s opinions don’t matter and I can just exist. It lets me get up there and throw myself out into the world and be bold. It’s exciting and enthralling but it’s something I have to hide from work, it’s bad enough already without them knowing about her.”

Richard looked curious, “How do you mean?”

Harry shrugged and looked away. “Sure it’s all equal opportunities and acceptance officially. Sure there are no overt problems but I get treated differently by other people, anyone different does. It’s like I’m not one of them. Anyway, I didn’t want to burden you and turn this into a therapy session.”

Richard smiled apologetically and squeezed Harry’s hand.

The waiter arrived with their meals and the pair chatted comfortably about their childhoods and experiences. Harry found Richard to be a charming and sensitive man who displayed genuine care for him. Unlike men he’d dated in the past, he didn’t spend the entire date talking about himself or trying to tell jokes to impress him. Their meal was a comfortable shared experience where two people were able to get to know each other better without any pressure or demands. Harry really found he liked the man he was getting to know.

Richard stopped the car by the curb outside Harry’s apartment and killed the ignition.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation; I had a wonderful time this evening,” Richard said softly.

Harry smiled. “Me too.”

“May I kiss you?”

Harry nodded, the flutter returning to his stomach. Richard looked like a nervous schoolboy rather than the well-heeled attorney driving an expensive car, Harry found it incredibly endearing.

Richard leaned across the center console and stroked his hair. Harry closed his eyes and leaned forwards and felt his lips caress Richard’s. They kissed softly for a moment before he felt his lips part and Richard’s tongue enter his mouth. Harry felt a warm tingle spreading throughout his body as he responded to the man’s touch. He moaned involuntarily and ran his fingers through Richard’s hair. They kissed for what felt like an eternity before Richard withdrew.

Harry opened his eyes and gazed through the fog of his brain at the man across from him.

“Would you like to come in for a coffee?” he asked softly.

Richard grinned. “Aren’t we being a little forward?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to sleep with you if that’s what you mean. Not yet, I’m not that type of person.”

“I wouldn’t be here if you were,” Richard smirked.

Harry led Richard up to his apartment and let them in. He turned on some soft music and set about making their drinks.

“I really enjoyed tonight.”

Richard looked around from the balcony window he was staring out of toward the ocean and smiled. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever dated before.”

Harry raised an eyebrow as he brought the coffee cups over to the sofa. “Should I be offended?”

Richard shook his head. “No, not at all, It’s a good thing. I just can’t seem to put a finger on what it is.” He sat down beside Harry.

“You’re an enigma to me,” the older man admitted. “You’re so kind and empathetic despite everything you endured. The more people have mistreated you, the more you want to help others. Between that and your beauty, I really find myself wanting to just hold and protect you.”

Harry blushed. Richard was the first man that had ever referred to him as beautiful. His role in their budding relationship was quite clear and where he honestly felt most comfortable. Other men he had dated always tried to act so macho and dominant, almost asserting themselves on him. Why, he reasoned, it never worked out for long. Richard however, seemed solely focused on making him happy. It was an intoxicating experience that gave him tingles across his entire body. This gorgeous man was so considerate and attentive that it made him feel wonderful.

“What are your usual dates like?”

Richard smirked wryly. “They’re good mostly, I haven’t ever gone looking for romance as much as I find it and part of me is a wandering spirit. I enjoy the experience and I don’t expect things to last. It’s hot and it’s passionate and it passes almost as quickly. You, however,” he added, caressing Harry’s shoulder. “You make me feel like I’m stepping on eggshells. I desperately want this to last as long as possible and I’m afraid I’ll mess it up.”

He shook his head. “Sorry, this is an awful lot for a first date.”

“It’s our second technically.” Harry pointed out, “Third if you count the beach.”

Richard smiled, “I can get behind technicalities.”

He placed his coffee mug on the table and leaned forwards and kissed Harry tenderly. Harry lent forward into the kiss and wrapped his hands around the back of Richard’s neck. He moaned softly as the man slid his kisses down his neck and across his collarbone.

“Richard,” he whispered.

The tender kisses became impassioned as Richard shifted position on the sofa and Harry felt himself underneath the man as their kissing grew in hunger. Richard slid his hand under Harry’s shirt and began to caress his skin. His body was tingling with energy and he could feel Richard pressing against his crotch. Somewhere in the maelstrom, he felt Richard slide his top over his head and the man lowered his head to his bare skin. Harry gasped as he felt cold breath against his wet skin and he ground his hips against Richard. Whatever the man was doing felt amazing and made him feel alive with a passion he hadn’t experienced before.

Harry would have slept with Richard then and there if the man hadn’t pulled himself upright, buttoning his shirt breathlessly.

“Did I do something wrong?” Harry asked with concern as he reached bashfully for his top. “I’m sorry.”

Richard shook his head, a dopey grin on his face. “No, I just didn’t know if I could control myself if that went on much longer, I respect you too much to do that.”

Harry kissed Richard gently, “Thank you, I don’t think I could have either.”

“I want to treat you properly and I want this to be right,” Richard said with almost adolescent sincerity. “I haven’t felt this way before about someone so quickly.”

Harry snuggled into Richard’s side and picked up his coffee, taking a sip before replying. “This has all been so fast but it feels right, I do too.”

“Would you do something for me?” Richard asked cautiously.

Harry looked at him uncertainly.

“You live somewhat of a dual life. I would be honored to meet the other person I’m going to be dating.”

Harry smiled. “She’s not real you know? It’s just an act. Something I do.”

Richard had a curious expression on his face. “Humor me please,” he added smiling, “After all, I have only ever seen a drag queen on television. If you don’t I might get the wrong impression of you.”

“Blackmail really? You’re trying to make me glam up for your entertainment?” he frowned, a smirk escaping his stern look.

Harry considered this for a moment before answering. “You’ll be here for an hour if I go the whole nine yards, want the short version?”

Richard nodded. “I’m sure I’ll get to see the masterpiece when I come to your wonderful show at some point. I’d like to at least meet her first before I share her with others.”

Harry agreed and left Richard after a brief kiss and retreated to his apartment’s second bedroom where he kept Mia’s things. He didn’t want to keep Richard waiting long so he chose to aim for a more toned-down, normal version of his wild side.

Stripping out of his clothes he slipped into a panty and bra before selecting a simple little black dress from Mia’s wardrobe. Slipping small silicone forms into the bra to fill out the shape.

He brushed his hair back and slipped on a wig cap before affixing a short blonde wig to his head. Brushing it out, he added a little body with hairspray and ensured it was securely fixed. Sitting down at the vanity, he opened his makeup case and applied a light daytime look. Harry wanted to gently introduce Richard to Mia, knowing full well how much of a handful he could become when she came out in full.

Adding a touch of perfume to her pulse points, Mia turned her face in the mirror, examining her reflection with a practiced eye. She was pretty, but in a more natural way than she usually appeared. It was a lot more muted compared to the vibrant and bright look she usually wore on stage to perform. Harry had never been fond of the garish clown styles some queens wore and opted for a more feminine approach. This was a new style in its own right. It was strange seeing himself appear as a relatively normal woman.

Smoothing her dress, she slipped her feet into a pair of three-inch pumps and stepped out into the hallway with a confidence she knew Harry didn’t possess.

Richard was scrolling through his cell phone when Mia coughed lightly from the hall to catch his attention.

He turned toward the sound and froze at the sight before him. Doubt suddenly filled Mia’s stomach as she fought the urge to turn and run back to the bedroom. She felt Harry’s doubt returning, this had been a terrible idea.

“I know it’s probably quite silly but I didn’t have much time, I’m sorry.” She admitted feeling deflated.

Richard stood slowly. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the nervous girl before him. He walked toward her, almost afraid he would scare her off. His eyes traced her every curve and detail until he arrived at her eyes.

He shook his head and smiled, “I didn’t think it possible for you to be any more beautiful. There you go again destroying my preconceptions.”

Mia looked at Richard, she was just below eye level in her heels. “You don’t think I look stupid?”

“No,” he answered quietly. “Far from it. It’s uncanny really You transformed from this beautiful boy into a stunningly attractive woman and It’s messing with my head something terrible. I know it’s you in there but you seem like someone else.”

“I’m sorry,” Mia admitted, glancing away at the floor. “I know a lot of guys don’t like this.”

Richard lightly touched her chin and tilted her head up toward his.

“Never apologize to me,” he said seriously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mia.”

Harry smiled weakly and swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I promise I look a lot better normally.”

Richard leaned forwards and whispered. “May I kiss you?”

“Like this?”

He nodded, not taking his eyes off hers.

Mia nodded shyly and Richard wrapped his hands around her waist and drew her toward him. Their lips met and he kissed her gently, her body melting into his. She found herself returning his kiss with greater passion as a wave of warm energy flooded her body. Mia felt herself becoming aroused by his touch in a way she had never known before as she gripped the back of his head and ran her fingers through his hair as she nibbled on his lip. His kisses were driving her wild and she felt a deep longing within her.

She moaned softly as he kissed her neck again. Her skin felt as though it were on fire, the moisture of his lips was a cooling balm.

“Richard,” she whispered, withdrawing from his grasp. “Come,” she cooed, leading him gently by the hand towards her bedroom.

She could see the lust in his eyes as his earlier restraint left him. She didn’t feel a similar reservation anymore. The only thing that mattered to her at that moment was being close to him. She led him into the bedroom and allowed his hand to drop as she walked backward toward the bed. She had no idea what she was doing, but it felt entirely right as she sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned him towards her.

Maintaining eye contact with him, she unbuckled his belt and began to unzip his trousers.

“You don’t have to,” he said softly, a husky tone filling his voice. “It’s ok.”

Mia shook her head and smiled, “I want to.”

She unzipped his trousers, letting them fall to the floor, and hooked her fingers around the waistband of his underwear.

Lowering them slowly, his erect penis sprang free and stood at full mast. He was not a small man she observed.

With their eyes locked, she gently kissed the tip of his penis before taking him into her mouth.

Richard moaned and stroked her cheek. “Oh my god,” he whispered.

Before he could reach climax, he gently stopped her and helped her to her feet. Kissing her softly, he reached behind her back and unzipped her dress allowing it to fall to the floor.

Mia was frozen in place. She felt every nerve ending on her skin screaming at her as her breath caught in her throat.

Richard stared into her eyes as he unclipped her bra and slid it from her body. She was entirely under his spell. Richard gently caressed her breast and grazed her nipple with his finger and thumb. She gasped at his touch. Her fingers shook as she began to unbutton his shirt. Slipping it from his shoulders, Richard stepped out of his trousers and gently lowered Mia to the bed.

She didn’t know why she still felt like Mia, but at that moment she was entirely absorbed by the emotions of her heart. Richard lowered her panties and slid them gently down her smooth legs before discarding them.

She took his hand and drew him to her on the bed. Richard lowered himself onto her and she spread her legs to accommodate him. They kissed and touched each other and explored each other’s bodies tenderly. Richard’s touch was gentle and loving and he drove her to new heights as he prepared her for him.

Richard gazed into her eyes as he pressed forward and entered her. Mia smiled up at him and bit her lip as she felt the brief pain of his entry. Mia arched her back and moaned. She pulled him to her and melted into his body.

They made love long into the night.

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

The next morning Mia woke with a start. Her heart was pounding as she felt the hair against her neck and the memory of the night before flooded back to her. She glanced across the bed and saw that she was alone under the soft sheets. A pang of sadness ran through her before she noticed a folded piece of paper on her bedside cabinet.

Rolling onto her stomach she picked up the paper and unfolded it.

“Mia,
I’m sorry for vanishing. I don’t want you to think it was anything you did but I got called into work early to check over some filings and I’d far rather still be in your bed with you. Words cannot begin to express what I felt last night. I never planned to sleep with you this soon as much as I wanted to. You mean far too much to me and I didn’t want to sully that. I realize this sounds silly but I want this to be real and I want to respect you. When we first met I fell for this amazing guy that I never expected to find. Last night I met the other half of you and she turned the world upside down. You’re an incredible person and I’d love you to call as soon as you get this note.

Richard.”

Mia smiled to herself, the worry she’d felt melting away at the sweetness of his note. She picked up her phone and called him. The phone was answered after only two rings.

“Hey.”

“For a minute, I thought you’d used me and run away. I was almost going to look for money on the side table.” Mia purred into the phone.

Richard chuckled. “Never in my wildest dreams would I dare do that to you. How are you feeling?”

Mia rolled over onto her back and brushed the hair out of her face. “Great, you were amazing last night.”

“Now that’s what a man likes to hear.” he laughed and changed to a more serious tone, “Would you like to do something this afternoon?”

“Like what?” she mused.

“I’m exhausted and I know it sounds like rather a high school affair, but I expect you never got a chance to go to go for pizza and a movie did you?”

Mia laughed, “No I didn’t, that sounds lovely. When and as who?”

“You obviously. But I can tell you’re still Mia you know.”

Mia frowned, “How?”

“Your voice is slightly higher in pitch and you sound more playful and energetic.”

Mia paused a moment and considered this. “I wasn’t doing anything in particular,” she admitted.

“Remember I read people for a living, I notice these things.”

“I’ll surprise you.” She giggled and glanced at her watch. “It’s eleven now, so two?”

“I’ll see you then.”

Mia clicked off the phone and hugged her knees to her chest. Was she acting differently? She didn’t think she was. She blew a strand of blonde hair out of her face and rolled her eyes. What was more concerning to her mental state was that her first time with Richard had been as a girl. That didn’t feel right. Her memory drifted back to their lovemaking the night before. That was what it had been; not sex. She’d had sex before as a male, and it was a raw and hot experience. She was still unsure if what she had experienced last night was because of Richard or her. Shaking herself mentally she got up and padded out of her room to take a shower.

The water cascaded down over her body and washed away the last dregs of sleep and sweat from the night before. As she washed, she felt slightly uncomfortable. She’d never liked her body growing up, although it was parts of that slender soft frame that allowed Mia to come into existence in the first place. Now, however, it was as though a switch had been thrown in her brain; she felt both happy for that fact and a gnawing sensation that it was now wrong for entirely different reasons.

Shaking her head, she finished washing and dried herself before making her way into her bedroom.

She sat wrapped in the towel on the edge of the bed debating her choice for the day. Who should meet Richard? Mia or Harry? She reasoned it should be Harry; Mia wasn’t real. Mia was just a creation; an act for the stage to entertain and have fun. Part of her speculated that there was maybe more than that but she wasn’t willing to face that yet. She made a decision and dropped the towel and began to get ready for the day.

Just before two, Richard rang the doorbell outside the apartment. He had come directly from his office and was still wearing a shirt and tie. He hated leaving that morning; she had been so beautiful lying there under the covers that he had almost considered blowing off the vital preparation work for the upcoming trial. She… It was strange he thought; he almost imagined them as separate people.

The door opened and he found himself face to face with a vision beyond his wildest dreams. Mia was still there and she looked incredible. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, framing her pretty face. Her makeup was subtle but hinted toward a more dramatic eye. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder top and a pair of shorts that showed off her tan legs ending in strappy sandals. She looked pleased to see him but was equally apprehensive. He could see she was hoping she’d chosen the right persona to greet him.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Richard grinned leaning in to kiss her painted lips. Her perfume was delicate but hinted at spices and fruit.

She ran a hand through his hair and kissed him back. “I hope you don’t mind,” she whispered, looking serious for a moment. “I didn’t want to jar your memory of me so suddenly after…”She trailed off with a sly smirk.

Richard shook his head and stroked her cheek. “You’re wonderful however you want to present to me. Perhaps I should get to know the girl I slept with a little better for decorum’s sake though.”

Mia grinned at him and nodded.

He took her hand and led her down to his car. Opening the door, he took her hand and helped her into the low-slung vehicle. Her every mannerism screamed femininity and confidence. He knew who she was but at that moment he couldn’t see the skinny shy boy he fell for in the surf.

Mia luxuriated in the car as Richard drove them through the city. The leather of the seat was hot against the back of her thighs and she could feel the wind whipping her hair through the open window. The world felt delightfully vibrant all of a sudden. Her senses seemed to be absorbing everything she was experiencing in stereo. She looked across at Richard as he drove. How was she here and why did this feel so utterly correct?

Drag was something she did on stage, it was a performance. Why had she gotten so carried away that she had slept with him as Mia? Why was she right that moment sitting in his car as Mia? The entire experience was amazing and exciting but it was also confusing and caused great conflict within her.

For the longest time, this had been a fun light-hearted act she kept to the stage, nothing more. It was enjoyable and fun and she was good at it. It gave her a level of confidence and armor that permitted her to be someone she’d only ever dreamed of being; popular. Why was she trying to act and look like a normal woman? She didn’t feel like one she reasoned; what did one even feel like? Was Richard just entertaining this or did he even want her as Harry now he’d seen Mia? Did he want Harry instead and was he simply humoring her strange choice?

The idea of being like this hadn’t just arrived the second she slept with Richard. She knew she’d had little moments in the past where the idea had flickered across the back of her consciousness. It was silly she reasoned. She wasn’t unhappy, was she?

“Why so quiet?” Richard asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat.

Mia felt a strange desire to be entirely honest with him in that moment.

“I’m having a little difficulty wrapping my head around a few things. Notably myself.”

“How so?”

“I’m going, to be honest, I don’t know who you like or how this feels to you.”

Richard nodded, “You’re afraid because I slept with you as a woman last night, that for some reason I’ll dislike you as a boy and not want to be around you. You’re questioning whether you have to be a woman to keep me.”

“Pretty much.” Mia muttered feeling more than a little frustrated that he’d picked her conundrum apart so expertly.

“As for how this feels for me, you know I’m bisexual, so I’m easy either way. Sometimes somewhere in-between,” he grinned.

Mia frowned and gently slapped his arm.

Richard continued undaunted. “I met a gorgeous beautiful guy on the beach and we spent some great time together, then I find out he lives this dual life and… I get the impression this…” he gestured at her. “Is a new thing off-stage?”

Mia nodded shyly.

“Do what makes you happy.” he shrugged. “At the core, you’re the same person, whether that’s Harry or Mia is up to you. I can’t decide how you want to present yourself to the world, but I can tell you it’s the person inside there,” he said sincerely, placing his hand on her chest above her heart. “That is the person I want to spend time with and get to know far, far better.”

“You said you wanted to wait last night, and then when I became a more normal version of Mia you couldn’t resist. I thought that meant you found me more attractive as a female.”

Richard shook his head. “I’d take either of you to bed. I was happy to wait. I told you I respect you. If it pleases the court, I would like to point out that it was you, madam, that initiated that little adventure.”

Mia smiled at the memory of her boldness. “I don’t normally do that, I promise.”

“Maybe she’s the more outgoing side of you that’s willing to take what she wants.”

“I am far more confident like this,” she admitted, running her hand through her hair.

They arrived at the theater complex and found a place to park before Richard led her inside. He was right, she realized, she felt like a high schooler on a date while they waited in line for their tickets. There was something so new and beautiful about this entire experience that it felt as though she was back in school. She hadn’t had any dates in high school of course, and most of her dates since had been in restaurants or bars and clubs. None had offered to take her for something as casual and unassuming as pizza and a movie. It seemed so childish but in its own way, it was adorable and fun.

Richard bought her a soda and a large popcorn for them to share and lead her by the hand into the theater itself. They found their seats and waited for the lights to go down.

“I really do want to come to one of your shows.” Richard whispered in her ear.

“I’d love to see you in your full glory and a sea of adoring fans, I’ve never dated anyone famous before.”

“Hardly famous,” she scoffed. “And perhaps I’ll let you one day.”

The lights dimmed and she felt Richard wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull her towards him.

“Little early don’t you think? You didn’t even wait for the scary part.”

“First off, this is a comedy so there is no scary part. Secondly, I think last night earned me at least this,” he whispered playfully in her ear.

Mia smiled in the darkness.

She didn’t remember the majority of the movie’s plot as she spent a significant portion of it with her lips locked with Richard’s. The two kissed like teenagers and barely maintained a level of decorum in the populated space. After the film had ended, she darted to the bathroom to fix her makeup.

It took her a minute to realize where she was as she stood fixing her lipstick in the mirror. Women were coming and going minding their own business and not a single one of them paid her any attention. She had, without thinking, nonchalantly entered the most forbidden of places for a boy; the women’s room. The fact she hadn’t thought about it, she blamed on her immersion that day, it had felt normal for some reason. She was more glad that she hadn’t blindly rushed into the men's room looking as she did. She shrugged and checked her reflection before leaving to rejoin Richard.

After she got back, Richard took her to a nearby pizza place for an early dinner. Nothing about this date was classy or expensive but she could honestly say she was having the best of times. It felt delightfully comfortable as they sat in the restaurant sharing a pizza and chatting. The experience was something she should have had as a teenager. To finally experience it was a little exciting.

“This is nice,” she said, munching on a slice of pepperoni pizza.

Richard leaned back in his seat and grinned. “I forget sometimes how fun the simple things can be.”

“Back home this was the highlight of the week for many of the kids at my school,” Mia admitted. “I always felt so jealous of them being out with someone on a date, kissing at the movies, guess I can check that one off my bucket list.”

“Afraid I can’t take you to prom, but I might have an event or two coming up where a glamorous lady might be helpful.”

Mia thought for a moment. That raised an interesting question. While Richard might not mind who she presented as when they were together, what would others think? No matter how she felt, she owed it to Richard to protect his reputation. How long would he stay with her once people started talking? The least she could do was be consistent regardless of how she felt inside, it was only clothes, wasn’t it?

“I could always give my partner at work a call, she’s always looking to find a nice guy to take her out,” she grinned.

Richard rolled his eyes and poked her knee under the table. Mia laughed. It was a great feeling to be that happy.

After their meal, Richard drove her home and they kissed briefly by her door before she went inside. She was slightly disappointed that he didn’t want to come in to continue their activities the prior night, but she understood, he looked as exhausted as she felt.

As she undressed, Mia felt another jolt of displeasure at her body. She dismissed the feeling, but still found herself wondering about what she was planning to do for Richard. Was it just for Richard?

Mia sat down heavily on the edge of her bed and sighed. Glancing at the mirror on the bedroom wall, she frowned before looking away. When she was Harry, none of the feelings that bothered her as she was now, felt quite as raw. She had gotten used to feeling out of place in the world around her. When she was Mia, those feelings were hard to ignore.

Shaking her head, she shrugged into an oversized T-shirt before slipping under the covers of her bed. It was early, but she really didn’t want to remain awake and marinade in her thoughts. Switching off the bedroom light she rolled over and waited for sleep to claim her.

Mia rose early on Sunday morning and rolled out of bed. She padded through to the kitchen and started the coffee maker. Waiting for the machine to do its work, she plucked at her short hair and frowned. She couldn’t do much with it as her job had relatively strict regulations about that sort of thing. That meant considerable time in her expensive wigs. She shrugged, variety adds to the spice of life.

Taking her coffee she slipped onto the sofa and crossed her legs. Why was she considering spending the day as Mia? She didn’t need to, she didn’t have to but she felt as though she wanted to. She argued she needed some practice if she was going to spend off-stage time as Mia and convince others for Richard’s sake.

Maybe she should go shopping? She would need more than just clubwear and a few bits and pieces to really sell Mia as a real person, especially a girlfriend. First, she needed a new name for this character… Mia was a comedian, she was a showgirl, and had a rather potent personality. That and her name was a comedic parody to start with, that wasn’t girlfriend material. What would the female Harry he was playing be called?

Mia thought for a moment and played a few names around in her head. What would fit her? What would be proper for the social circles Richard moved in?

A name popped into her head she hadn’t considered. It felt right, she smiled to herself and went through to her room to dress for her day.

Olivia Dalton checked her appearance in the mirror. She had dressed down more than she had ever managed as Mia but she felt comfortable. She had her blonde hair up in a messy bun held back with a French clip and wore her shorts from the day before along with a UCLA sweater she had from school. A simple pair of sneakers finished her look. She didn’t want to look dramatic or dressy today and she had limited choices otherwise. Her overall plan was to look as uninteresting as she could. She hoped it would help her blend into the background.

Olivia jogged down the stairs to the parking bay and climbed into her truck. Pulling out into traffic she briefly worried about being pulled over. She knew how overzealous cops in the city could be at times. She shook her head and eased off the gas slightly as she slipped into the flow of traffic.

She drove up to a popular mall in Santa Monica and managed to eventually find a parking spot for her pickup. She’d been shopping for women's things before many times but somehow it felt more terrifying when it wasn’t for a costume. Blowing it off as drag was easy, but now this was clothing she was buying for herself, at least in the short term. Suddenly Olivia felt extremely vulnerable; by creating a new persona that was more Harry than her stage persona, she suddenly felt naked without Mia’s bravery and bravado. The rational part of her mind told her that nobody would notice or care in this city. This was Los Angeles after all, things were extremely liberal. The irrational part of her mind told her that she no longer had the excuse of drag to protect her.

Wandering through the crowds, Olivia felt extremely nervous. She was alone and felt a vulnerability far greater than she ever had at home in Montana. There, she at least appeared outwardly normal to most people. Now, she felt as though everyone could see through her and into her mind. She knew it was likely nothing, but every glance gave her a jolt of panic.

Stopping off at a clothing outlet, she began to browse the racks. At first, she felt like every eye in the store was on the imposter in their midst. She caught her reflection in a mirror as she shopped. The girl looking back appeared to be any young woman out clothes shopping on a weekend. She saw no trace of Harry. There was nothing that might give someone cause to call security or bring attention to the deviant. She channeled a little Mia and felt stronger. She held her head high and set about her mission.

Olivia was glad she had chosen to wear sneakers that morning. Her feet still hurt as she left the mall several hours later. Her trip had been successful and she now owned a significantly larger feminine wardrobe that would help her to fill her new role.

Perhaps it was a little early in her relationship to think this far ahead but she felt differently about Richard. There was something that separated him from anyone she had dated before him. Before she had dated boys but Richard was a man.

She had spent nearly five hundred dollars in the mall buying everyday necessities that would be needed to fill out her wardrobe. She had bought everything from underwear to casual and more dressy outfits. She rather enjoyed the experience after her initial fear had subsided and allowed her to really enjoy the experience. She had a good eye, she knew. Olivia knew how to dress to her body. Her fashion sense was, she realized, a lot closer to what Harry would wear. That is, if Harry had been born a girl. Jeans and T-shirts, tank tops, tops, and boots played a significant part. Even the skirts and dresses she had bought were far longer than anything Mia would wear on stage. She realized she had been making an unconscious separation between the two of them. Olivia was going to be classy but a little country. She was proud of her culture and wasn’t about to give it up to the Californian way so quickly. As she maneuvered her pickup through traffic, the scowls of some tiny hatchback drivers made her smile. City folks.

Unpacking at home, she folded and hung her new wardrobe in Harry’s room rather than Mia’s before cooking dinner for herself. Shopping was hungry work she realized. The day had flown by far quicker than she realized. She thought over her decision. Becoming Olivia might do in the short term but was she kidding herself? Would it ever be enough for him? Would he force her to choose? Richard seemed to be casual about his opinion of the two of them but a part of her mind and her emotions told her that he would prefer her over Harry in the end. What would the future hold? How long could she maintain this facade and would it be a lie? She couldn’t answer that question yet.

As the hour grew late, she decided to change into one of her more indulgent purchases; a short silk nightdress. Slipping it on, she reveled in its luxury. Her mind told her she should probably feel more conflicted about her stupid plan but she dismissed the thoughts almost as quickly as she slipped between the sheets.

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

The next morning, Harry drank his coffee as he waited for Anderson to bring their car around. It felt decidedly odd to be male again after his feminine weekend. Everything felt suddenly far more clunky and out of place. It would be a useful reminder to kick some of the behaviors he had found himself noticing over the past few days. After leaving the locker room he’d caught himself walking in a more feminine gait and had to deliberately butch up his stride to compensate.

Behavior, he realized, was like accents: Exaggerate one long enough, and you begin to sound more natural when you relax rather than trying to nail that perfect tone from the beginning. Mia’s behavior was feminine but exaggerated. It was nowhere near as over the top as some queens but it was femininity at full volume. Olivia, he reasoned, was so easy to slip into because it required so little thought.

Anderson pulled up in their cruiser and he climbed in beside her.
“So like I was saying,” she continued their earlier conversation from the squad briefing. “The dude nearly took my fucking head off. It took three of us to get him in cuffs.”

“That’s what you get for messing with junkies with power tools.” Harry deadpanned with a smirk. “One wrong choice and…” he made a neck-slicing gesture.

“Working over the river sucks man, I hate picking up mandatory overtime shifts.”

Harry nodded. The east of the city was considerably rougher than the majority and often required additional manpower after payday when the local population went on an excited binge.

“So…” Kelly asked changing the subject as she pulled out into the city traffic. “How did your date go?”

“Oh, it was fine,” Harry offered dismissively. “Pretty average actually.”

Kelly looked across at him trying to work out if he was lying. “You are so full of shit. Tell me everything!”

“It was good,” he admitted cautiously. “Dinner was lovely, he was a real gentleman. We had a really lovely time and he took me home.”

“Was that it?” she pressed.

“Well no,” he admitted. “He had a really cool car, a Porsche.”

Kelly looked at her partner and rolled her eyes so dramatically that Harry feared they might fall out.

“He came in for coffee and… we might have slept together.”

Kelly let out a whistle. “You move fast,” she chuckled.

Harry felt defensive. “No, it wasn’t like that, it just happened ok? It felt right, we were caught up in a moment and it was really special.”

Kelly lowered her mask of bravado for a moment and looked more serious. “He called you, right? Afterward?”

Harry nodded. “We actually went out again Saturday, pizza and a movie.”

“From glitz to the pits huh? Maybe you sucked in the sack?”

Harry slapped her arm and shook his head. “Nope.”

She gave him a knowing look and grinned. “Ok, so you two are compatible in a biblical way, how’d he deal with your nightlife?”

Harry blushed. “Yeah, he was ok I guess. Didn’t mind.”

Kelly didn’t buy it for a minute. “No way Missy, you’re holding out on me, spill! How long have we known each other?”

Harry sighed. “Well he’s bisexual, you already know that. It doesn’t bother him like it might if he was full-on gay.” he paused, staring out at the passing buildings. “He wanted to see Mia.”

Kelly pulled the car over and parked before turning to face him. “And?” she prompted with a look approaching a child on Christmas morning.

Harry stared at the dashboard with a frown.

“Well, I asked him in for coffee and we fooled around a little, and then he wanted to see Mia. I didn’t want to leave him waiting for the full Mia so I kinda toned it down, more normal I guess.”

He couldn’t look at Kelly. He closed his eyes and took a breath. “He didn’t sleep with me, he slept with Mia.”

Kelly squealed and covered her mouth. “What?” she whispered. “He slept with you in drag?”

“Yeah.” Harry admitted glancing at her cautiously. “And it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life,” he admitted quietly.

“Aren’t you reading into things a little?” she asked, “It could just be Mister Gentleman being a smooth operator.”

Harry shook his head. “I felt different; it was different. It was nothing like the other guys I’d been with. He was sweet and gentle and so caring. I thought I was going to cry. It wasn’t him that initiated things with Mia, it was me.” he added shyly.

Anderson leaned back in her seat and thought for a moment. “Your date Saturday was as Mia too wasn’t it?”

Harry nodded. “I didn’t want to jar his memory of me and risk him running for the hills.”

“That’s why you were acting oddly this morning,” she observed. Seeing Harry’s questioning glance she continued. “You’re walking a little differently, holding yourself a little differently, and small mannerisms are a bit softer than usual. It’s not much, I don’t think the guys will think you’re any fruitier than before but I can see it,” she said simply.

“You think I’m crazy don’t you?”

Kelly shook her head. “No sweetie, but I think you’ve got some serious mental gymnastics ahead of you.”

“What the hell do I do?” Harry whimpered.

“Do what makes you feel happy,” she answered softly. “I’m your friend and I’m here for you, whoever that is.”

Olivia pulled out of the strip mall and joined the flow of traffic. Returning from work she realized that she lacked any kind of workout clothing and needed a quick stop to remedy the issue. A surf shop up the coast in Malibu and a sporting store had solved her issues. Traffic on the coastal highway was extremely heavy even at that late hour. One of the country stations was blasting out one of the older Shania Twain tracks and she was drumming her fingers to the beat as they crawled forwards.

The welp of a siren and a flicker of lights behind her snapped her reverie. Glancing in the rearview she saw a cruiser with its lights on behind her. A shiver of panic ran through her as she slapped the radio off and pulled over to the shoulder.

The car was a Sheriff’s Department vehicle which only made her situation worse. There was a reasonable chance that she might know them or they’d know someone she did. Pulling her license and paperwork from the glovebox she held them in her lap and waited for the deputy to approach. A younger brunette woman stepped from the car and started to make her way along the side of the vehicle until she drew level with the passenger window.

Olivia smiled weakly and waited for the woman to speak.

“Hi, sorry for stopping you but you have a left rear tail light out.” The deputy explained. “License, registration, and insurance please?”

Olivia sat still for a moment. “I have a firearm in the vehicle,” she explained quickly. “Bag” she added gesturing with her license to the passenger seat and her handbag. The woman’s eyes flicked to the handbag and nodded. “Thanks, can I see those please?”

Olivia froze and contemplated explaining herself. She knew the woman by appearance but not by name, the stripes on her sleeve marked her out as one of the department’s training officers.

“Problem?” She asked, there was a look behind the smile she still had on her lips.

“Ah, no, sorry,” Olivia replied, handing the items. “This is going to look a little strange,” she explained as the woman took her documents. “I… can explain.”

The deputy took the paperwork and held up the license and glanced across at Olivia. Her raised eyebrows meant she had made the connection. “I see,” she replied with a quirk of her lip. “I’ll be right back,” she answered, returning to her cruiser.

Time seemed to pass extremely slowly on the side of the highway. Traffic was starting to ease up and flow faster beside her. Despite the cooler evening temperature, Olivia was sweating. Once the deputy returned, she handed back the documents and gave her a look. “I think you have some explaining to do, Deputy.”

Olivia pointed at her door and the woman nodded. Stepping down from the truck, she made her way around to the side of the shoulder and stood in front of the woman. “I…” she began not entirely sure what she was going to say. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“And what does it look like?” Replied the woman, hooking her thumbs into her belt.

Olivia shrugged, “I’m not sure honestly.”

“Are you transgender?” she asked more gently.

“I don’t know,” Olivia replied honestly, her cheeks turning red.

The woman shrugged. “It’s not a crime last I checked, but you’re going to land yourself in hot water with those documents. I’m betting the department has no idea, do they?”

Olivia shook her head. “I… I know you need to file a report, but does it need to include this?”

The woman shook her head. “Not really, but if my footage is reviewed it might. It’s not exactly a controversial stop and I’m not citing you so I don’t expect so.”

“I think I’ve seen you around,” she added, giving Olivia a closer look. “Dalton sounds familiar, you work third up in West Hollywood right?”

Olivia nodded. “With Anderson.”

The woman smiled, “I trained her, she’s a good cop.” She looked at her again and smiled. “You do look very pretty, I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t shown me your license.”

Olivia blushed and dropped her head. “Thanks, I guess.”

The woman patted her shoulder. “Look, get out of here, get that fixed, and try to not get pulled over again. Here,” she added, handing a card. “Give me some time and you can explain some more of this to me, I get the feeling you’re going to need allies.”

Deputy Sheriff Abigail Taylor.

“I’ve heard of you.” Olivia answered with reverence. “You’re the one that handled the Orson Crowe cases?”

Taylor smirked. “Yeah, that guy’s unique.”

She walked back to her cruiser and stood holding the open door. “What’s your name?”

“Olivia,”

Taylor smiled and gave her a quick wave before slipping back into her car and pulling away from the stop. Olivia hugged herself for a moment, she was starting to create a real mess for herself. She shook her head and climbed back into her truck and pulled back out into traffic and headed for home.

Letting herself into her apartment, she changed into her new surf gear, grabbed her board and made for the beach. It was a liberating experience to ditch the wetsuit. She’d always worn that to hide her frame and bulk herself up to fit in. She’d also never felt comfortable without covering up. Now she wore a one-piece swimsuit with board shorts over the top. Her wig was securely glued in place so she wasn’t afraid of losing it if she bailed.

Dusk was starting to settle as she jogged into the waves and began to paddle. The heat of the day had kept the water warm enough to be pleasant and the tide was coming in. Olivia grinned as she dug deep and hauled her way out into the swell.

Exhausted and with darkness falling, Olivia waded ashore and grabbed her towel. Her balance had been all off and she had fallen more than she would have liked. She wasn’t sure if it was long wet hair or her boobs, but she felt like a beginner again.

A wolf whistle from further up the beach caught her attention.

“So that’s why you didn’t pick up your phone.” Richard’s voice called in the darkness.

Recovering quickly, Olivia smiled as the man approached in the fading light. “Hi,” she replied, continuing to dry herself off.

“This is a new look.” he offered with a raised eyebrow.

“Trying something new with my hair,” she quipped.

“I was going to see if you wanted to grab a bite, nothing super formal.”

Olivia shrugged, “I was about to make dinner if you want to join me?”

Richard smiled, “I’d like that.”

The two chatted as they made their way back up the beach toward her apartment. Richard carried her board at his insistence. He’d gotten off work late which appeared to be a consistent trend. Trial preparation tended to result in long hours and little free time. That he wanted to spend a little of it with her made her feel special. Olivia let them in and grabbed Richard a beer before setting the oven to preheat. Grabbing a quick shower, she dried and dressed quickly in sweats and a tank top before returning to the kitchen to prepare the meal.

Richard watched her move around the kitchen as she prepared the food. She was singing softly to herself and moving her body to the music on the stereo. This wasn’t the gawky shy boy he first met that day on the beach, this was a woman. He sipped his beer and simply watched as she moved around unaware of his gaze.

“This isn’t a stage persona is it?” he asked as she stirred a pot.

Olivia glanced up at him with a look that reminded him of a deer in the headlights of a semi-truck.

“I just want you to feel comfortable,” she answered meekly.

Richard walked through to the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to her. Reaching over, he stroked her cheek gently. “I don’t care what you look like. I want it to be what you want.”

Olivia raised her hand to touch his and held it against her face. She stared into his eyes as though trying to find an answer to an unspoken question.

“I do,” she said flatly.

“Why?”

“You’re too good for me,” she answered softly. “You deserve someone better and someone that won’t embarrass you.”

Richard cocked his head to one side. “Why would you embarrass me?”

Olivia shrugged gently and stirred the pot absentmindedly. “You started dating a boy, then things happened and now I’m in a mess and I can’t keep switching back and forth on you. It’s not right.”

“This isn’t a performance,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“No,” she admitted sadly.

“This is LA,” Richard reassured. “Nobody cares and if they do then it’s their fucking problem. I’m not a celebrity, I’m a lawyer. You should see the crap my clients and colleagues get up to. This is honestly nothing. I’ve never hidden who I was and I’ve dated men and women very publicly. I don’t give a damn.”

“People would talk if you were with me one day and Harry the next.”

“Let them, it’s our lives.”

Olivia stared into the sauce she was stirring and sighed. “I don’t know why, but this feels so much more real than any relationship I’ve ever had.” she admitted. “I want this to work out so badly.” she added, looking pleadingly into his eyes.

Richard kissed her fingers. “I do too. You’re very special and I care about you. More than I have for anyone in some time. But I insist you be happy. Don’t feel you have to change who you are because of me.”

Olivia occupied herself with serving their meal and led Richard over to the table. They both ate in silence for a moment before she spoke.

“At first, I created this persona to make what we did that night easier for you… and me.”

Richard tried to comment but she held a finger up. “The more serious this began to get, the more I felt I owed you consistency. I didn’t plan for this to happen, but there is perhaps a little more to it than I first thought.”

She gestured towards herself. “I spent my entire weekend like this. Not Mia, but someone different, someone… in-between Harry and her. Right now I’m not sure what it means, but if you’ll put up with me I’d like to see how I feel about all of this.”

Richard stroked her hair and smiled sympathetically. “Regardless of what you wear or who you are on the outside, you’re the same person inside. That’s who I’m quickly falling for. Do what makes you happy; I’m not going anywhere.”

He paused and smiled. “Would the lady care to grace a gentleman with her name?”

The girl smiled and cocked her head to one side, “Olivia, a pleasure to meet you.”

Richard left later that evening after spending a few precious hours with Olivia on the sofa. They had done little more than hold each other and kiss, choosing instead to spend the time enjoying each other’s presence. She felt comfortable there;. his warmth and his scent lingered long in her heart long after he had departed.

His touch and presence excited her. She felt a heady rush when he was near that she hadn’t experienced before with any man. Olivia glanced into the hallway mirror after he had left and sighed. The dejected image of a girl hugging herself uncertainly looked back. It felt incredibly real to her at that moment.

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

“I’m really starting to get confused Kel,” Harry murmured as they walked up the steps to a property just off Van Ness. “I’m starting to feel like two people.”

His partner shook her head and smirked, despite her eyes glancing around cautiously as they approached the door. She knocked and announced them before turning to Dalton. “You’ve gotta find what feels right for you or you’ll go crazy… well crazier.”

Harry shot her a look as the door opened on its chain. “Mister Martinez?” Anderson asked neutrally. The man nodded slowly. “We had a report of another argument, want to come outside and talk to us?” The man seemed extremely uncertain as he glanced between the two deputies but eventually the door closed briefly before the sound of the chain rattling was followed by the door opening more fully.

The man stepped forward into the doorway and rolled his shoulders, “Ain’t nothin’ wrong Officers, all tranquilo here eh.”

Kelly pointed out onto the front yard, “Come on over here and talk to me for a minute ok?”

While the surly man followed his partner over, Harry glanced inside the hallway. There was a short dark Hispanic woman with her arm around a short boy standing in a doorway toward the rear of the property. “Can I come in?” He asked gently, smiling to reassure the woman.

She hesitated for a moment before nodding and gently encouraged the small boy off into one of the side rooms. Harry stepped through the threshold and glanced around casually, trying to take in as much as possible. “hablar Inglés?” Do you speak English?

The woman shook her head, “No mucha,” she admitted quietly looking nervous.

Harry switched to his broken Spanish, something he was learning to master quite quickly on this job. “You are well?”

She nodded, “We have an argument, it is fine, we argue about money.”

Harry nodded, the home was bare but appeared to be proudly kept. The couple certainly seemed to be trying. He didn’t notice alcohol bottles or any signs of disturbance. “I am sorry, I must ask, you are not hurt yes?”

The woman seemed shocked, “No, He does not hit me, we argue but we are happy… well, we try.”

“I understand, I must ask, I am sorry.” The woman seemed genuine and there were no signs of abuse visible on her and she appeared genuinely surprised by his question. It was likely that they’d just had a good old fashioned shouting match the way some couples do. Harry glanced at the small boy who was hovering in the kitchen, clutching a toy police car under his arm.

Harry glanced at the mother and then at the boy and smiled. “Hello, what is your name?” he asked squatting down to be less intimidating to the child. “Is that a police car?”

The little boy nodded and held it out in front of himself proudly. Harry grinned and reached into his thigh pocket and pulled out a small plastic Sheriff’s Department badge. He always kept a few on him for children. He glanced at the mother who nodded her assent and held it out towards the boy. “Here, for you.”

The boy approached slowly and took the star from Harry’s hand and smiled happily.

“What do you say?” his mother prompted.

The little boy smiled shyly, “Gracias señorita.”

Harry blushed slightly and nodded, “You’re welcome.” He stood and returned his attention to the mother, “I won’t take up any more of your time, have a good day.”

Harry said goodbye and made his way out of the home. He caught Anderson’s eye and nodded; everything was ok. He walked down the steps and waited by the car while she finished speaking with the husband.

A few moments later Kelly joined him and they got back into their patrol car. “All good,”

“One Adam Ninety-Three, Dispatch, we’re Ninty Eight on our call, show us back Ten-Eight.” Kelly called lazily over the radio as she slipped the car into gear.

“The kid called me señorita,” Harry mused as they pulled away from the curb.

Kelly chuckled as they merged into traffic. “Kids are preceptive,” she grinned. “You do seem different though, more relaxed.”

“I don’t feel relaxed,” muttered Harry as he watched traffic. “I feel more tense than I ever have in my life.”

“Want to get a drink later when we’re off shift? I think you need to let your hair down a bit.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed slowly. “I think I could do with that.”

“Who’s coming?” Kelly grinned glancing over at her partner.

Harry thought for a moment. He was pretty sure it wasn’t really a question anymore. “Olivia.”

Olivia was hit with a wall of noise and music as she stepped into the Baja Catina off Washinton at nine that evening. The decor was a gaudy SoCal mix of Mexican beach bar and tourist trap but it was relatively popular. Most importantly, it wasn’t an establishment frequented by cops; Olivia didn’t want to deal with possibly running into colleagues that evening. She felt apprehensive going out at night dressed as she was. It was funny, for a woman born in the clubs of West Hollywood she should be used to nightlife in a skirt, but if anything that made her more aphehensive. She knew it was one of the city’s safer areas but she’d seen enough in her work to carry a healthy caution.

She’d worn a dress that evening and she was starting to regret the choice as she noticed several men glancing in her direction the moment she entered the bar. It was short and floral and fell off her shoulders with a peasant neckline. She wore a simple pair of heeled sandals and her hair was flowing around her neck. She felt as though she had to make an effort for her partner, as silly as it was. This was technically Kelly’s first time meeting Olivia, even though she’d met Mia more than once in the past.

She approached the bar and waited to order a drink. The bar was busy, but not entirely packed. Weeknights never got entirely quiet in the city but they did slow down a little from the weekend rush. She’d barely spoken to the barman when a tall handsome man had approached her and attempted to engage her in conversation.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before, but I wish I had,” he grinned broadly eyeing her up like a piece of meat. Olivia glanced at him and smiled thinly, a neutral gesture. She’d met plenty of men like him before, although they hadn’t been straight. She wondered if certain stereotypes of men were universal across sexuality.

“First time here and I’m waiting for a friend,” she replied over the music before turning back toward the bar to collect her drink as she surreptitiously kept the tip of her finger over the open bottle.

“I don’t see them yet, want to hang with me for a little while?” The guy asked not reading the signals.

Olivia’s eyes flicked nervously around the bar to see if she could spot Kelly, but came up short. “Sorry no,” she offered politely, not wanting the man to ask her any further.

“Ah come on, you’re too pretty to be on your own,” he asked again, reaching out a hand to guide Olivia by the hip away from the bar.

“No thanks,” Olivia said a little more firmly than she’d intended as she pushed his hand away. “I’m good here, leave me alone please.”

“No need to be like tha…” the man trailed off as a woman slipped in beside Olivia.

“Fuck off buddy, she’s not interested.” Kelly stated flatly. She was smiling politely, but her gaze was ready to melt steel. The man scowled, finally taking the hint as he slinked away into the crowed bar.

“Well then,” Kelly grinned, “Not even here a few minutes and you’re already beating them off with a stick Blondie.”

Olivia rolled her eyes, “He wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

“You have this deer in the headlights innocent look that makes men melt,” Kelly chuckled. She looked Olivia a lot closer. “I recognized you because I know Mia but damn girl, this is a very new look for you.”

Olivia blushed, “I don’t look silly do I?”

Kelly shook her head and grinned broadly, “Not even remotely silly Mi…Olivia, you’re gorgeous and I’m jealous.” Kelly shook her head, “You know it’s funny that I’m going to trip up on calling you Mia more than… you know.”

Olivia nodded and felt a little embarrassment, “I’m not her, not like this. This is… me, I think.”

Kelly eventually managed to order a drink after shouldering her way to the bar and the pair made their way over to a booth where they were able to talk a little more freely away from the press of the crowd. Despite knowing her for years, Olivia was still extremely nervous around her partner. She knew she didn’t care, she’d seen Mia in her full glory many times and had a blast coming to shows, but this was a different situation entirely.

“So, you’re not weirded out by me?” She asked after they’d gotten settled.

Kelly shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “No, not even a bit to be honest. I’ve seen you in dresses before girly and it does seem to suit you. It’s a new look and I don’t know this version of you yet, but you’re still my partner.”

“I’m still not sure how I feel about this Kel,” Olivia admitted shyly. “It feels good, right maybe? It’s like I relate to people differently and I’m so much more free, but I still feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“Why is it wrong?”

Olivia took a long drink of her beer and shrugged, “I don’t know, shouldn’t it be?”

Kelly shook her head and her expression softened, “No it’s not, not if its right for you. You’re the only one that matters kid.”

“That’s where I’m stuck, I have no idea.” Olivia admitted sadly. “The world tells me it’s wrong, but the more I do this, the more I don’t want it to stop.”

“Then don’t. But you need to see someone about it for sure.”

Olivia rested her elbows on the table and placed her chin on her palm. Why was she doing this? Was it for Richard or was that simply an excuse? She told herself at first that it was simply to make his life easier but she knew that wasn’t the case. Mia had been the excuse for this hadn’t she? Mia Calafia was a somewhat socially acceptable excuse to be someone else and who did she choose? A girl.

“When I first decided to continue with this after… that night, I told myself it was to ease Richard’s mind and to stay like that to prevent embarassment to him but that’s bullshit.” she sighed. “I could have just gone back to Harry and achieved the same thing.”

“Yeah,” Kelly agreed. “You didn’t though did you?”

“No.”

Kelly scooted around the booth and wrapped an arm around Olivia. “A couple of weeks ago when we had that nasty shoplifter, I told you that you were basically one of us. I didn’t mean because you were gay, I meant you specifically.”

“Me?”

Kellly nodded, “I maybe made some jokes about it, but I never really saw you as a guy, not really. I know that… technically you’re a guy, but somehow I never saw it. We’ve been partners for a year and the academy before that. I never felt like i had a guy as a partner, gay or not. It always felt like you were just another woman but a little different.”

Olivia frowned and made a face, “I feel like I should be insulted by that, but I’m not.”

“I’m no expert on this crap, I can’t tell you what specifically it is, but you’re just girly.”

“When did the woman raised by wolves become an expert on all things feminine?” Olivia smirked.

“I have the vagina card you snarky bitch.” Kelly grinned. She shook her empty drink at Olivia, wordlessly asking if she wanted another. With her answer she scooted out of the booth and vanished toward the bar.

Once she returned, Olivia chatted with her partner about less depressing matters. It felt good to be out and socializing, if only for a while. With how complicated her life was becoming, having Kelly in her corner was comforting. Raised with four brothers, the girl was a bit more brusk than most women she knew, but it was an endearing quality when mixed with Kelly’s trademark sarcastic honesty. She knew her friend would always tell her the truth.

As she took a cab back to her apartment, she contemplated Kelly’s opinions on her situation and wondered if things really were that simple. Who did it really effect other than her and Richard? If he was happy and so was she, the world’s opinions didn’t really effect her. Nobody else could decide her fate, that was all on her. All her… The more she allowed herself to think honestly, the more she knew what she’d been denying. This wasn’t for Richard, this wasn’t for anyone but herself.

The next week was exceedingly normal. Kelly didn’t seem to change how she treated Harry, but, the more she considered it, Olivia realized that she had always treated her like another girl anyway. Realizing it was what had changed.

Each night when she got home, she became Olivia once again. Her life was becoming more and more comfortable as she spent increasing time as this new version of herself. She shopped for groceries, ran errands and surfed. The only place she was really beginning to feel uncomfortable was at work. When she had to become Harry, it felt as though she was lying now. When had being who she was born as become a lie?

She knew that very little about her situation made sense. The world seemed to fit Olivia far better than it did Harry. He had existed, while she seemed to be blossoming into a more complete person. One that she was beginning to enjoy getting to know a great deal.

She’d performed two more shows since Olivia had entered the world and her appearance had raised a couple of eyebrows when she arrived at the club. Nobody had said anything to her but she could tell that they were more than curious. Her reception on stage had been as good as ever; Mia still had it despite the girl behind her’s growing turmoil. She had originally thought there was a world of difference between who she was on and off the microphone. Mia was hot, brash and sexual, a vivacious creature that lived to tease and prod. The world was her stage and she owned any room she entered.

Olivia had once thought that she personified everything that Harry was not, but she was starting to see that she shared far more with her than she realized. While she wasn’t anywhere near as loud as her stage persona, she was beginning to notice that a lot of her personality traits existed within her in a more normal way. Olivia was far more confident than Harry had ever been, her reservations currently aside. She was more ready to tease and joke and she felt more free to move and was more prepared to try new things.

Richard was a new thing she was starting to enjoy a great deal. With their work lives busy, they’d managed to snatch a few evenings together during the week. They’d only been dating for a couple of weeks, but she already felt like they were in a real relationship. She’d dated before, but nothing ever seemed to really stick. A relationship was new for her, and it was quite a rewarding experience. She found that while Harry had been frightened by the prospect, she embraced the feelings it brought her. She was really starting to feel strongly about the man.

That evening was no exception: It was Saturday night, and Olivia was sitting across from Richard in a beautiful restaurant just off Marina Del Rey. The mood was relaxed and romantic and Olivia was feeling wonderful.

“I feel very lucky tonight.” Richard said softly, caressing Olivia’s fingers across the table. “Every man in this place is jealous of me.”

Olivia blushed and looked down, “you’re too much.”

“I mean it, you look amazing.”

Olivia had dressed up a little more than she had felt comfortable with that evening. She’d taken one of Mia’s cocktail dresses and spent over an hour on her makeup. Her dress was a black silk cocktail affair with sphagetti straps that clung to her body in the right places. Her hair was up and hung in delicate ringlets. She wanted Richard to feel like she deserved to be seen with him.

“How was your case? Did you win?” She asked deflecting his attention from her appearance.

Richard shrugged, “Yeah we did, Judge ruled in the State’s favor like we expected. I don’t want to talk about work tonight though, I just want to enjoy the moment.”

“Sorry,” Olivia offered sipping her wine. “I find your work really interesting.”

“I’m glad you do, my hours aren’t exactly wonderful sometimes.” Richard admitted.

“We’re making it work,” Olivia offered, “and I like spending time with you. Even if it’s just dinner at my place or watching a movie on the sofa, its special.”

Richard smiled. “I’ve never done that with any of my past relationships you know; just spent time together. It always seemed about the sex, or about going out and being seen. I wanted to experience all the thrills and adventure.” He suddenly looked sheepish. “Not that I don’t want to do those things with you… I just love to spend time with you, it doesn’t need to be glitzy, I just want to be close.”

Olivia placed her desert fork down on her plate and pushed it away gently as she smiled at him, “yes, I know what you mean.”

“You want to head up the coast and make a day of surfing this weekend?” Richard asked hopefully, “I wanted to try Point Mugu up past Malibu, there’s a great little diner on the way back we could grab lunch at.”

Olivia smiled, “Yeah I’d love to, it would be nice. Spending the day together would be great.”

Richard grinned broadly and signalled for the waiter, “Great! We’ll get away from it all and have a blast, I can’t wait.”

The waiter brought Richard the cheque and he passed them his card as he stood and helped Olivia with her chair. “I can think of other amazing ways to spend time together too.” he whispered as he led her toward the door.

Richard pulled his car into the garage below his apartment in Santa Monica. The building was just off the main strip and had stunning views of the pier and the beach. She knew he had an expensive car, but the whole place felt like an entirely different world to her.

“I still can’t believe you’re this rich,” she marveled as she walked into the apartment with him.

Richard shrugged dismissively, “crime pays, well, arguing in court about crime does at least. Why? You only in this for the money like all the other girls?”

Olivia gently slapped his arm as he led her to the huge floor to ceiling windows of the living room. “I did it for the view.”

Richard grinned and retreated to a small bar at the side of the room and retrieved a bottle of champagne and a pair of glasses. “A drink?”

Olivia nodded, still staring out over the twinkling lights of the city toward the beach. “It’s beautiful up here.”

Richard popped the cork and poured two glasses. “You know, I bought it for the proximity to work. I wasn’t really that worried about the view beyond it being close enough to the beach to surf.”

Olivia took one of the offered glasses and smiled, “if I lived here I’d watch the sunset every day.”

Richard gently took her elbow and turned her to face him. “You’re so beautiful tonight.” he murmured, staring into her eyes. “Every day you just seem to amaze me again and again. I don’t know how you do it.”

Olivia glanced away then back up at him, “I feel lucky that you even want me,” she admitted shyly. “I never dreamed I’d find someone like you.”

Richard took her glass and placed it with his on the edge of a sidetable. He shook his head gently, “I’m the lucky one. I found someone that makes me want to slow down and enjoy life. someone that I care very deeply about and want to spend time with. She’s beautiful, exciting and an intellectual equal that I can talk to.”

Olivia blushed deeply as she stared into Richard’s eyes. “You’re being too generous,” she whispered softly, “I’m so broken.”

Richard shook his head and wrapped his arms around her waist. He lowered his head until they were almost eye to eye. “You’re not broken, you’re perfect.” He silenced any reply by kissing her gently on the lips.

Richard pulled their bodies together as they kissed and Olivia’s heart fluttered. The world around them seemed to close in until it was just a small bubble of existence occupied by two human beings. She returned his kiss with passion as his hands slid lower until they cupped her rear, the soft silk of her dress moving gently against her skin felt sensational.

Olivia felt her lips part and she moaned hungrily as Richard’s tongue slipped into her mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair as they stood entwined by the window, the lights of the city glittering like stars in the night sky.

Being this close to Richard did strange things to Olivia. She felt weak in his arms, yet, at the same time she buzzed with electricity. His every touch seemed to reach into her very being. Here in his arms, the world simply didn’t matter.

Richard withdrew gently and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes as he gazed at her with a silly expression. For such a confident man, he looked so innocently boyish at times she thought. She smiled shyly and pressed against his body. She knew what he wanted to do with the rest of their evening, and she wanted him just as much.

Richard took her hand and led her through to the bedroom. Thankfully, the blinds were drawn over the massive window as he led her toward the bed. Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as he slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders and let it slide to the floor.

Olivia woke early the next morning. It took her a moment to recognize the unfamiliar surroundings in which she found herself. She could feel warmth beside her and glanced across to see Richard’s sleeping form beneath the sheets. She smiled happily, her heart singing proudly. He had been such a tender and considerate lover the night before she had wanted to cry.

She looked down at her own body under the knot of sheets that was partially covering her and felt disappointment well inside her. It seemed that every moment Olivia existed, Harry became more of a reminder that she was wrong. Each moment she felt a shard of happiness, he remind her that she was so very wrong. Slipping from the sheets, she wrapped herself as best she could with her dress and slipped into the bathroom. Self consciously, she locked the door behind herself and stepped into the shower.

Fifteen minutes later she returned to the bedroom wrapped in a towel and approached the bed. Richard was still sleeping and she knelt beside him. He looked so peaceful, it felt almost sinful to wake him but she had to go to work in two hours. She gently kissed him on the lips and stroked his cheek to rouse him.

Richard stirred and his eyes fluttered open. He glanced at her and smiled sleepily.

“Can you drive me home?” she asked softly, “I have to work.”

Richard’s sleepy smile transformed into a sly grin as he pulled her on top of him. Olivia squeaked and grabbed her towel as she landed on Richard’s chest. “I’m serious,” she pouted, “I’ve got a shift this morning.”

Richard kissed her playfully and rolled her off so he could climb out of bed. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll run you home. I’m just disapointed we can’t spend the morning in bed together.”

Olivia sat up on the covers and smiled sadly, “I’d far rather stay here with you today.”

While Richard showered and cleaned himself up for the day, Olivia changed back into her underwear then glanced at the dress that now lay on the foot of the bed. She grimaced and chose not to highlight her commute of shame. Checking Richard’s wardrobe she spotted a white shirt and snatched it from the hangar. Grabbing one of his belts she shrugged into the large shirt and buttoned it most of the way up before wrapping the belt around her waist. Rolling the sleeves, she slipped into her heels and applied a light amount of makeup and checked her reflection in the mirror.

She still had that ‘Spent the night at her boyfriend’s place’ look, but it was far better than the previous evening’s dress. Slipping into the kitchen, she managed to find her way enough to make a pot of coffee and a locate a pair of mugs. By the time Richard emerged fully dressed from the bedroom, she was sitting at the breakfast bar sipping her steaming elixir and feeling far more human.

“I can get used to this you know,” he grinned taking the offered mug. “Is that my shirt?”

Olivia grinned and nodded. “I didn’t want to look cheap going home in last night’s dress.”

Richard rolled his eyes and smirked. “Come on, my car’s downstairs.”

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

A Double Whammy this week... Chapters Six and Seven are importantly linked to the story, so I felt you'd enjoy them both together! This is where things get big!

Harry yawned into his coffee and stretched. It seemed as though emotional turmoil was as exhausting as physical exercise, and he’d been through both in the past twenty four hours. He felt extremely out of place in his uniform that morning after he’d finally made it to work. When his mind flickered back to the night before, the memories almost seemed as though they had happened to a different person; perhaps he was truly losing his mind after all.

“You’re doing it again.” Kelly laughed as they walked out to the motor pool.

Harry glared at her and straightened his stride, “shut up.”

Anderson cackled to herself. “You’re getting worse, girl. I don’t know how long you’re going to be able to hide things now the cat is out of the bag.”

“I don’t need to hear it, Kelly. My head is already all over the place as it stands.”

“Well get your head in gear or you’re going to start rumors,” Kelly chuckled. “Work time.”

Most of their morning was thankfully boring and uneventful. They were dispatched to a burglary and handled a couple of traffic stops with little fanfare. When midday arrived, they were parked up at a fast food stand to grab lunch.

Harry placed their order once they reached the front of the queue. “Two pulled pork Burritos.”

“Coming right up, senoritas.” the older Hispanic man replied cheerfully as he set about preparing their food.

Harry was going to comment but Anderson elbowed him in the ribs. He rolled his eyes and waited silently for their food. He kept his mouth closed until they received their lunch and got back to their car.

“That never used to happen before,” he sighed.

Kelly grinned at him past her burrito. “You’re spending more time as Olivia than Harry, it’s becoming second nature. That and your sex life has you all girly-girl.”

Harry was going to reply when their radio chirped. He glared at Kelly while he pulled up the call on their computer.

“One Adam Ninety-Three, Armed robbery in-progress, Bani Market, 591 South La Brea cross of South Market.”

“One Adam Ninety-Three, Dispatch, show us en route,” Harry responded as Kelly threw the car into gear.

Their lunch was forgotten as Dalton and Anderson switched focus to business as they roared away from the taco stand with lights and siren blazing. Harry drew his sidearm and checked that it was loaded as their dispatch relayed further details. Mentally, he ran through a list of checks as they raced to the scene of the robbery. “Think it’s going to be bad?”

Kelly shook her head, “no idea, we’ll see.”

They rolled to a stop outside the store, set into a strip of buildings off the main road and got out of the car with weapons drawn. Anderson looked across at Dalton and nodded. The pair moved up slowly, weapons raised, and approached the door. As they approached the door, they maneuvered to attempt to see inside. A man by the counter turned around and sprayed a submachine gun at the door. The glass erupted between them as both deputies flattened themselves against the building wall.

“Sheriff’s Department, drop the weapon!” Dalton yelled.

The man inside yelled something unintelligible and sprayed another burst in their direction.

Anderson was hurriedly calling for backup on the radio, her face a mask of anxiousness and resolve. Dalton glanced around the doorway and withdrew fast as more bullets flew.

“Clerk behind the counter, Bravo Mike, black hoodie, tech nine.”

Anderson nodded.

“I’ma fuckin’ shoot this fool, get out of here.” screamed the man.

“Look we just want to talk, let’s stop shooting ok?” Dalton yelled back. “Put it down and talk to me. Nobody needs to get shot.”

Anderson turned to her radio, “Barricaded suspect with hostage, roll us SWAT.”

Several cars began to arrive behind them and they were joined by additional deputies. Anderson began to fill in the new arrivals as Dalton continued to talk.

“Come on, let's not get anyone killed, we can solve this peacefully man. What’s your name?”

“I ain’t telling you my name.” screamed the gunman. “I wanna get out of here or I’m gonna smoke this fool.”

Harry shook his head at Kelly and nodded back behind them. “Ok,” he called. “We’re going to move back ok? Don’t hurt him, we’ll let you come out, you can get to your car alright?”

The deputies around the door began to withdraw to positions of cover behind their vehicles. Minutes passed before the store door began to move. A short Asian man was shoved forward while the gunman kept his weapon to the side of his head. The man was jumpy as all hell; his eyes darted everywhere in rapid succession. This guy was on the edge of losing it and Harry knew it. One false move, one car backfires, and the hostage is dead.

He tucked himself into the alley beside the building tighter hoping he would remain out of sight. The gunman was moving along the sidewalk in their direction towards the vehicle they assumed he’d arrived in; a dirty old Buick.

Deputies were behind him and more toward the intersection at the far side of the standoff. The man drew closer and Harry could see his fingers flexing on the gun in his hand. The dark metallic machine pistol was twitching against the clerk’s head.

The man was barely ten feet from the alley and approaching his car when the clerk made a terrible decision. Time slowed down as the little old man elbowed the shooter and tried to run as his fight or flight instinct kicked in at the worst possible moment. Harry watched the shooter stumble and then begin to raise the weapon toward the clerk’s fleeing form. He didn’t think, he launched himself from the alley and dove at the shooter. The man squeezed the trigger as Harry connected and a burst of fire scattered uselessly into the sidewalk as he stumbled backward.

Harry heard yelling and screaming voices as though he were underwater as he wrestled the man for the gun. Everything within him seemed laser-focused on accomplishing that single act. The man fought him, he was stronger by a good measure. Adrenaline and muscle revolted at his efforts to contain the deadly device.

Harry struck the suspect in the face several times with his free hand as he tried to control his weapon hand. The man flexed and moved to throw off his balance. The gun moved and Harry brought his weight down on the arm as best he could. The gun went off. Its sound was deafening in close proximity even though it was wedged between their bodies. He felt a stabbing pain in his lower body as the man’s arm overcorrected from his resistance. White pain flooded Harry’s body as his mind tried to process that he’d been shot. He could barely focus as he convulsed in pain. With the last of his strength, he brought up his free hand and punched the man in the temple with everything he had.

The man went limp and the weapon arm relaxed. Harry rolled off the suspect and lay on the sidewalk, his body feeling suddenly extremely cold. He looked down, his green uniform trousers were dark red from the knees up.

Kelly appeared above him, a look of fear and panic etched into her features. She was yelling at him, but it was dull, murky, and distant.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered as the world turned black around her.

Harry awoke slowly. His body ached in a dull, expansive way he could barely describe through the fog in his mind. The first thing he was able to recall was the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor somewhere nearby. As his vision swam into focus, he began to make out the ubiquitous furniture and fittings of a hospital room around him.

He tried to raise his head and found it far heavier than he remembered. His body felt like it was full of lead and his muscles would barely cooperate. The movement gained the attention of Richard who had been sitting beside his bed.

“Hey, it’s ok, don’t panic, you’re in the hospital.” he whispered soothingly, brushing the hair from his eyes.

“What happened?” Harry managed to croak dryly.

“I need to get the nurse.” Richard explained as he stood, squeezing Harry’s hands. “I’ll be right back I promise.”

Harry watched dimly as he left the room in a hurry before returning moments later followed by a pair of nurses with Kelly Anderson trailing behind them.

“How are we feeling?” the first nurse asked.

Harry shook his head gently, “Not great,” he rasped.

The nurses ushered out Richard and Kelly before checking his dressings and taking readings from the various machines.

“When can I find out what happened?” He asked dryly, accepting a cup of ice chips from one of the nurses.

“A doctor will be through soon to see you honey,” she offered with an apologetic smile. “It’s best if they explain.”

The nurses finished up and elevated the head of the bed for him and made their exits allowing Richard and Kelly to return.

Richard sat down beside the bed and stroked his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re back with us, Kelly told me what you did you silly fool.”

Harry attempted to shrug but didn’t have the energy. “I was just doing my job, I screwed up is all.”

Kelly shook her head. “You’re getting a whole bunch of awards, some fuck up.”

Harry looked confused as Kelly held up her hand and started counting. “Medal of Valor, Line of Duty and Life Saving awards and a Purple Heart to boot.”

“Jesus.” Harry muttered. “It wasn’t a big deal, and I got myself shot too.”

Richard shook his head. “You dived at a gunman about to kill a hostage and subdued him single-handedly preventing loss of life and protecting your fellow officers.” he explained with admiration. “You are a hero.”

“I don’t feel like one.”

Kelly sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “I’d have gotten hit if he started spraying at that guy from the store. He was right between the shooter and me. I couldn’t get a clean shot nor could half the guys behind me. You saved my life, partner.”

As they were talking, a woman in her forties entered wearing a lab coat over a smart pantsuit. The doctor, Harry presumed.

“How are we feeling? I’m Doctor Miller,” she asked, consulting Harry’s chart. “My colleagues told me you were awake and I wanted to pop in and have a little chat about your condition.”

“Like I got shot I guess, the first time,” Harry muttered. “Can they stay?” he asked, glancing at Richard and Kelly.

The doctor nodded. “So as you’re aware, you were shot, but perhaps not how many times. You suffered six separate gunshot wounds to the pelvis and thighs resulting in significant hemorrhaging. You coded twice on the operating table, but we were able to stabilize the bleeding. One bullet nicked your femoral artery, and one broke your left femur. One was embedded in your right femur, but it remained intact. You suffered several flesh wounds and the final bullet did the most damage.”

The doctor looked uneasy for a moment. “Are you sure you want them to remain for this?”

Harry nodded, feeling a pang of nerves. “They’re both important to me, They should hear it too.”

Richard squeezed Harry’s hand.

“Well,” the doctor continued. “The final bullet perforated your scrotum and damaged your testicles. I’m afraid they were beyond saving. We had to surgically remove the remnants.”

Harry felt strangely numb. He knew this should be a major disaster for him, that the doctor expected this to be horrific news but he felt oddly calm.

“I’m alive though, and I can walk?” he asked quietly.

“We had to use plates to secure your femur and you still have the bullet embedded in your right but otherwise you will make a full recovery in time, aside from the obvious.”

“Are you ok?” Richard asked.

Harry looked between Richard and Kelly. Richard was deeply concerned, he looked almost afraid for Harry. Kelly on the other hand looked sick to her stomach.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m glad to be alive. I very nearly wasn’t. This is going to take some time to absorb, doctor.”

The doctor nodded. “You’ve been out for a couple of days, but you should be able to return home in a week or so depending on how well your wounds heal. You were quite lucky in many respects, your injuries should heal without major complications to your mobility. Other aspects though…” she trailed off. “May cause issues. I’m very sorry. I’ll give you some time to process this news.” she added, making her exit politely from the room.

Kelly punched the wall. “I’m so fucking sorry Harry.” she groaned, “I should have done something.”

“You couldn’t, you already said that.” Harry tried to comfort her. “It’s not your fault or anyone else.”

“How do you feel about this?” Richard asked softly.

Harry wasn’t sure. “I guess I get to be the terminator now, I contain metal parts.”

Richard smirked but his expression returned to one of serious concern.

Harry looked away for a moment before returning his gaze to Richard. “I don’t know yet. I’m so glad to be alive, I think I got off kinda lucky as she said. I will walk again and I can still work I hope. I will surf again but I’m just going to set off some metal detectors. The other part? God, I don’t know honestly. I wasn’t exactly the manliest guy before this and I’m not sure they were much use anyway; I was never going to father a child.” he admitted.

“Mother perhaps.” Kelly chuckled in an attempt to raise the mood.

Harry threw an ice chip at her, “I’m serious. It could be much worse really. Considering recent events, it’s not as though it will damage my masculinity; I never had much, if any.”

Richard squeezed his hand softly.

Harry looked him directly in his eyes. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to stick around, but I’m glad you were here when I woke up. I know this is a lot to heap on someone so early in a relationship. I’m sure you don’t need the baggage, it’s ok.”

Richard shook his head. “How can you even imagine that? I’m going nowhere baby.” he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Harry’s forehead. “Nearly losing you made me realize how much I love you.”

Harry swallowed. “You love me?”

Richard nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Harry whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m so happy you’re here.” he choked.

Richard hugged him gently and kissed him on the lips.

Their kiss was only broken by a gagging sound in the background. The pair looked up sheepishly at Kelly who was miming sticking her fingers down her throat. “God you guys are too fucking much, I’m going to hurl. Shot to shit and you still get your hallmark moment before me you bitch.”

Harry smiled. “You can get shot too if you want.”

The gunman saw him as he darted from the alleyway. Harry had misjudged the timing and the man started to turn toward him. The barrel of the machine pistol glinted in the sunlight as he stared down the muzzle of the brutal-looking weapon.

The gun barked and Harry felt the bullets striking him and he felt cold. There was blackness and suddenly he was falling.

Harry woke to find a nurse hovering above him, she was looking down with concern in her eyes. “Are you ok?” she asked softly.

Harry swallowed, he felt cold and his gown was clammy where it stuck to his skin. His breathing was heavy and his heart was hammering.

“I…” he began, glancing around. He was still in the hospital room. “I… bad dream.”

“It’s ok,” the nurse soothed. “You were screaming, I think you were having a nightmare. It’s perfectly normal after something this traumatic.”

She helped change his gown and sheets before giving him something to help him sleep. Chemical blackness took him quickly, but it was barely possible to call it restful.

The rest of the hospital stay passed incredibly slowly. Each day included a parade of visitors from members of the department, his few friends along with nurses and doctors. There were a couple more nightmares that plagued him during his stay but they began to fade with each day that passed. Each one was a variation of what could have gone wrong; in nearly every situation he died painfully.

After four days, the catheter was removed and Harry was encouraged to walk to the bathroom in his room. Even that short exertion was exhausting for him. He was soon able to shower with great care. His body felt strained and stiff and his thighs were a mask of red wounds, but being able to wash his hair was more refreshing than he realized. Feeling clean and wearing his own bed clothes made him feel significantly more comfortable.

Kelly had brought him needed supplies from home. She had jokingly included the nightdress that had been on his bed from the night before that fateful day but Harry hadn’t felt comfortable wearing it in his current appearance.

It was just after ten in the morning on a Friday when there was a knock at his door.

“Come in,” Harry called, pushing himself upright in the bed with only significant discomfort.

The door opened and a tall blonde woman in a Sheriff’s Department uniform entered cautiously, she appeared hesitant to disturb him.

“Deputy Dalton?” The woman asked.

Harry nodded, then recognized her, “Sheriff Reilly, Ma’am.”

The woman nodded and clasped her hands in front of her. “I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

Harry shook his head. “No Ma’am.”

The sheriff shook her head. “No more of that Ma’am business, you’ll make me feel old. Kate please, you’ve earned that much at least unless we’re at work.”

Harry nodded.

“I wanted to come and visit sooner but I was trying to give you some time to recuperate. I’ve spoken to your partner and read the reports of the incident.” she paused and raised her eyebrows. “What you did was insanely dangerous and almost certainly saved lives.”

“It just seemed like the right thing at the time, I guess it was kinda stupid really,” he admitted sheepishly.

The Sheriff shook her head. “That’s what all brave people say when they do something above and beyond the call of duty. I wanted to inform you personally that you’re receiving the Medal of Valor, Line of Duty, and Life Saving awards along with a departmental Purple Heart. I spoke to the committee the other day, congratulations.”

Harry smiled. “Kelly, ah, Deputy Anderson already told me,” he admitted. “I don’t deserve those.”

The sheriff shook her head and leaned against a cabinet next to the bed. “You know what medals and awards are for?” she asked.

“People that deserve them?”

She shook her head. “It’s mostly for the people handing them out and your friends and family. Nobody that gets them wants them or feels they deserve them. We do it to celebrate the act, the achievement; It’s for the people you saved.”

Harry hung his head. “I just want to be able to work again, if I’m allowed to.”

“If a doctor signs you off you absolutely can. If not, a full pension.”

Harry looked up at the Sheriff. She was a beautiful woman in her thirties. The youngest they’d ever had in the state apparently. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a neat ponytail and her trim figure was dressed in a patrol uniform with her stars affixed to the collar. Their boss went out on the road, unlike many others.

“You know how many times I’ve been injured in the line, Harry? I can call you Harry, can’t I?”

Harry nodded, “I know of a few Ma… Kate.”

The Sheriff nodded and smirked, “too many. I couldn’t stand the idea of riding a desk even in this job. We’re thigh buddies now,” she added, patting her left thigh. “Titanium plate after I got run over a few years ago.”

Harry pushed his hair back out of his eyes and nodded.

“I’ll be honest with you,” Sheriff Reilly pointed out after a moment of quiet. “I’ve had a lot of my deputies hurt on the job, many more than I’d like. Often it’s no fault of their own and sometimes it's entirely their own stupid fault, but it’s rare when it’s such a selfless act.”

The Sheriff frowned. “I know things haven’t been wonderful for you with us, I’m aware of some of the comments and jokes. Believe me, I want us to do better. As much as we’ve tried to improve things, old habits die hard in such a macho environment. I know some of my deputies won’t ever respect me as their leader because I’m a woman but I’ve worked extremely hard to prove them wrong.”

She walked over and sat on the end of Harry’s bed. “You’re not the most macho and you’re gay; you don’t really fit into either camp in people’s minds. You made a very tough choice when you decided to answer this calling and they ought to respect you for that. After what happened to you and what you did, you’ve changed a lot of minds in the department and our colleagues in others. You too can change perceptions, Harry.”

The Sheriff’s radio crackled to life and Harry heard her number called. Reilly rolled her eyes and stood. “Babysitting to do. Take your time and heal, your job will be waiting for you when you’re ready. The Department thanks you for your sacrifice.”

After the Sheriff left, Harry considered her words. He had no intention of being an example to anyone but he understood her point about perception. Reilly had a storied career within the department before and after she was elected to her current post. That she, with all her accomplishments, didn’t feel entirely respected showed a human vulnerability he hadn’t expected in someone of her rank. Would this really change the looks he got in the locker room? Would it make people answer his calls for backup? He wasn’t sure.

The nurse wheeled Harry’s chair towards the door of the hospital. It was just over three weeks after his admittance that fateful day. The doctors had taken extra time to ensure that Harry’s wounds were healing and his initial rehabilitation was proceeding successfully. His whole body hurt from the exertion of walking back and forth, even with the aid of rails and walkers. Richard and Kelly were by his side as they exited into the LA sunshine for the first time in what had felt like an eternity.

Kelly had her SUV pulled into the bay at the doors of the hospital and the two helped Harry into the back before returning the chair to the staff. Seeing the world passing by again as they drove through the city felt novel and new. The vibrations and bumps of the road however, reminded him that it was still a very long road to recovery.

Before long, they were pulling up at Harry’s apartment in Venice. He felt incredibly frail as they helped him climb the stairs up to his home. The second-floor apartment had never felt so far away. Richard had been insistent that Harry should stay with him until he was better and he had agreed on one condition; that he be allowed to return home and pack for himself. Begrudgingly, the two agreed and helped him to his room.

Harry sat carefully on his bed. He was tired but he had something he needed to accomplish before he could rest. Slowly and painfully, he began the process of becoming Olivia once again.

While she was still in significant pain, Olivia felt suddenly far more comfortable in her own skin, her time in the hospital as Harry had felt decidedly false. She had refitted her wig, much to her frustration at her own short hair before reattaching and blending her breast forms into her skin. Slipping into comfortable underwear she dressed simply in sweatpants and a tank top and sports bra. Even with no makeup, she looked female in the bedroom mirror, that was enough for her; pretty could wait until she felt less like death warmed up.

Part of her mind realized this was beginning to mean far more to her than was probably healthy for her, but right now, comfort was important and she needed her head on right. It wasn’t as though she had anywhere to be for a while.

Packing enough clothing for a couple of weeks along with her makeup and essentials she left the cases where they were before facing the elephant in the room and stepping back out into the hallway to deal with Richard and Kelly.

The pair were waiting in the hallway when she emerged and turned to help her as she shuffled out of the bedroom expecting her to be trying to move her own bags. Kelly’s hand flew to her mouth and barely hid her smile. Richard grinned and nodded at her.

“I figured,” he said simply. Olivia smiled and shrugged.

“It’s not right you know,” Kelly muttered. “You nearly died, you can barely move, you’ve no makeup on and you look better than me.”

Olivia smirked, “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

Kelly shook her head and went to collect the cases while Richard helped her back down to the car.

“We’re going to have to talk about this when we get home,” he remarked casually as he held her weight as she hobbled down the stairs.

“Home?” Olivia asked with mock skepticism. “That’s presumptuous.”

“For now at least, consider it yours too.”

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

Loading her belongings into the trunk of Kelly’s SUV, the three set off for Richard’s apartment in Santa Monica. It wasn’t long before her partner started her interrogation.

“So,” Kelly asked without looking back at Olivia. “Spill the beans girly, what’s the deal here? I take it Harry’s not coming back, right?”

“I don’t know what label to put on things at the moment but I have a long time ahead of me before Harry has to come back, and I want to see how I feel about everything.”

“I mean it’s not a huge leap really. You certainly suit it and you should do what you feel like. My real question is how does this genderfuck work with Richie boy?”

With a grimace, Olivia leaned forward and smacked her partner’s arm.

Richard shrugged. “I don’t care, She’s beautiful either way.”

Kelly simply grinned and returned her attention to the road. Olivia snuggled closer to Richard’s shoulder. While still miffed she wasn’t allowed to stay in her own home to recuperate, she was secretly pleased he wanted to look after her.

“I’m going to feel totally out of place staying here with you, it’s so ostentatcious.”

Richard grinned, “You’re not exactly poor you know, your family makes more than I do per anum. Doesn’t that make me the gold digger?”

Being held around the shoulders made slapping the back of someone’s head extremely easy, she discovered.

Before long her belongings were put away in the bedroom and she was carefully placed on the expansive sofa to rest. The doctors had told her to ensure she was immobile as much as possible but maintained their physical therapy schedule of appointments and at-home routines. She knew the road ahead was a difficult one, but their prognosis of a full recovery was extremely positive if she was proactive.

There would always be a bullet to remind her of that fraught decision on that filthy sidewalk. She knew her decision had been correct as much as she felt she had failed to accomplish it. She was determined to return to the job and prove that she deserved it. Not for the sake of anyone else, but for her own sake. The rest of this mess she had gotten into would have to be addressed too. As much as it hurt, this situation gave her time to work out how she truly felt.

“Push yourself, Harry, give me five more laps.”

Amanda Carter was a hard taskmistress. Harry cursed her name every time he completed the length of the therapy room they were using at the hospital. Walking was possible, but more than a dozen meters at a time was painful and it took all of his strength to continue moving his legs. The program set out for him was designed to maintain muscle mass and aid the knitting of the shattered bone.

Harry completed the demanded laps and Carter helped him sit on a bench to rest.

“This is exhausting.” He grumbled.

“By the time it’s not, we’ll add more, then move on to strength exercises once your healing is further along. We don’t want to risk any reopening of wounds while the stitches are still in.”

Harry nodded. “It will get easier, right?”

Carter finished her notes and nodded. “Yes, but we’re not just aiming for basic recovery and healing. Your job demands a lot and it’s going to need to go a bit further.”

He understood of course, but it would be a grueling experience all the same.

“You’ve got a check-up with Doctor Miller, then I’ll see you next week.” she added, “I’ll get you an orderly to take you upstairs.”

One of the hospital orderlies arrived and wheeled Harry up to the eighth floor to wait for Doctor Miller at her office. He only had to wait ten minutes before she arrived and held the door for him while he wheeled himself inside. He was exhausted from the exercise so was glad for the excuse to move around in the wheelchair.

“How was your first session with the physical therapist?” She asked, sitting at her desk.

“Psycho you mean,” Harry grumbled. “Awful, I feel like I ran a marathon.”

She smiled. “It’s going to be like that. The majority of damage is in your thighs, which are the main motive power of your body. It’s going to take some time.”

Doctor Miller helped him up onto the examination table and helped him undress so she could examine his wounds.

“These are knitting nicely, but they’re going to be extremely sore for a while. I should be able to remove the stitches in a week or so. The bone won’t start to really mend for another month but the titanium plates we fitted will hold things nicely. How are you sleeping?”

“Poorly,” Harry admitted. “Mostly nightmares. The pain is bad but I’m trying to moderate the painkillers I'm taking, I’d rather not feel too numb.”

Miller nodded in agreement and helped him to redress. “So, the biggest topic we need to address is your ongoing health from here. Your body has suffered a major trauma and it’s going to need to heal. A big part of that, and especially the recovery of muscle tissue is your body’s endocrine system. Right now, your hormones are flatlined and you don’t have any testosterone flowing through your system aside from the small amount that’s produced by your pituitary gland.”

She paused to see if he was following.

“The way the human body works is that it needs those hormones to develop, or in your case, recover. Lack of those hormones also can lead to bone problems and your physical health declining. With the loss of your testicles, this means you’re going to need that testosterone injected every month so that your body can maintain its normal function and muscle mass. This is something we’re going to start today.”

Harry didn’t reply. He knew this was something that would be brought up, but he also knew he wasn’t ready to decide yet.

Doctor Miller glanced at him and noticed his expression, “Is there something wrong?”

Harry frowned. “How vital is this to my recovery?”

“Vital honestly,” she replied. “Is there something wrong with this? I know it’s going to be inconvenient but you’ll get used to the regimen over time. Eventually, you won’t even notice. Naturally, you won’t be able to father children, but I believe you do have a boyfriend, yes?”

Harry nodded. “I do, but that’s not it Doctor.” he paused, the words suddenly seemed extremely difficult for him to form.

“What do you see when you look at me?” he asked.

Doctor Miller regarded him for a moment with an analytical medical eye.

“A young man recovering from an extremely traumatic event.”

“Physically, specifically.” Harry pressed.

“You’re,” she consulted her notes, “five foot eight, one hundred and forty-three pounds, slim, perhaps a little on the skinny side of healthy, fair-haired.” she stopped for a moment and ran a finger along his cheek and forearm.

“Extremely light body hair, low facial hair growth, when did you start shaving?”

“I didn’t.”

“There is a possibility you had reduced hormone production before this, which does make a replacement regimen extremely important to balance your body’s endocrine system. This will help you grow facial hair, and build muscle mass and strength. Your parents never took you to your local practitioner about this?”

“What if I don’t want that?”

Dr Miller thought for a moment. “Have you been taking anything?”

Harry shook his head. “No.”

“Are you experiencing underlying gender issues?”

The million dollar question Harry mused. Was he? There was confusion, certainly, but was he ready for a pathway in either direction? His incident left him at a fork in the road where each pathway led in extremely different directions and neither were easy.

“Yes,” he replied quietly, unable to meet the doctor’s eyes.

“Are you seeing any psychiatrists about this?” she asked gently.

Harry shook his head. “I was getting to that point I guess.”

“This leaves us in a quandary,” Miller explained. “You need to begin replacement as soon as possible for your physical recovery to progress as smoothly as possible, if you’re not willing to take the Testosterone injections, you don’t exactly have many options.”

“Waiting doesn’t work?”

Miller shook her head. “You need this. Now your circumstances are far from normal, and this presents you with a choice. As things stand, you don’t have a supporting psychiatrist or a diagnosis but I could in my remit, prescribe Oestrogen instead. Now, This would only occur if you promise to see a professional and gain a diagnosis to continue after this initial round. You’ve had recent bloodwork to clear you for either really. I have your baseline levels, and given that you lack any natural primary production, one or the other is necessary. Now, while this will benefit your recovery, you shouldn’t experience any irreversible changes within three to four months should you change your mind.”

“The Oestrogen,” Harry answered flatly. It felt like the right choice, but he also realized he was beginning a pathway he might not be able to return from, or want to.

Doctor Miller nodded. “We can do that. However, I insist you get an appointment to see a specialist soon, I’ll have my receptionist give you a few numbers.”

Harry was in a mental fog as Doctor Miller left to gather the necessary items for his first shot. This decision felt monumental but he also felt strongly that testosterone would be far more wrong. Within moments, Miller returned and had him lower his pants for her to jab him in the buttocks.

“So, fair warning, you’re going to experience some emotional changes and you might notice your skin will feel softer. If things are particularly virulent, you’ll develop some sensitivity in the breast area and body fat will begin to move around. Nothing should be too extreme, but prepare for tears.”

“I’ve always been pretty emotional anyway.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh then you’re going to be a wreck soon,” Miller smirked. “Expect random mood swings.”

After the appointment was complete, Harry collected the list of names from Miller’s receptionist and was delivered back downstairs to the lobby where Kelly was waiting to take him back to Richard’s apartment.

“Go alright, blondie?” She asked, taking his arm carefully. “How long before you can dance in heels again?”

Harry didn’t answer straight away. “Sooner than I thought, I guess.”

Kelly helped him into her waiting SUV and climbed in beside him. “How so?”

“Well, the doctor jabbed my ass with my first hormone shot to replace what I lost.”

“So you’ll be sporting a huge beard soon? Won’t kissing Richard be weird when it's velcro on velcro?”

Harry shook his head. “No beard, but I might grow boobs.”

Kelly slammed on the brake and flipped off the honking sedan behind her before staring at him in shock, “what did you say?”

“She told me I needed one or the other to heal, and I didn’t want the testosterone.”

“So you’re all shot up with girl juice?”

Harry nodded and didn’t turn to face his partner. “Yeah.”

“Dude, this is big isn’t it?”

“She told me I shouldn’t expect too much and nothing permanent yet. She wants me to see a shrink to talk about all of this girl stuff.”

“You talk to Richard about this?”

Harry shook his head. “Wasn’t expecting to be given an ultimatum or a choice today. I guess I have to explain some stuff to him tonight.”

Kelly spent the rest of the journey making fun of her partner and telling him stories of what he was missing at work. She knew his head was a mess at the moment and hoped he would find the path that was right for him. Once they arrived back at the apartment, she helped him inside and got him settled before leaving with a promise to call later and hear how his conversation went.

Harry limped back into the bedroom slowly and changed out of his neutral sweats and changed back into Olivia.

Was she making the right choice? Was this a phase, a fad or a place to hide from reality? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was every day that passed left Harry feeling more and more like the disguise. Perhaps the junction she’d reached was the catalyst she needed to really face those feelings she’d forced down for so long.

Olivia woke later that evening when Richard softly shook her shoulder. She was lying on the sofa in the living room of his apartment. She opened her eyes to see him kneeling above her with a worried look on his face. “Hey”

“You looked restless, you were muttering, How are you feeling?”

Olivia pulled herself upright with a grimace. “Bad dream I guess, Physical therapy was really exhausting. I sat down for a rest when I got back and then you were here.”

Richard placed a bag of takeout containers on the coffee table. “Must be the life, sleeping and working out while I go out all day to hunt for dinner.”

Olivia rolled her eyes as the scent of Chinese takeout filled her nose. “Must be hard to spear the guy at the Chinese restaurant.”

Richard grinned at her and took the bag through to the kitchen to serve their food before joining her on the sofa. The pair ate in silence for a few moments.

“I like this,” Olivia admitted as she wrestled with a dumpling.

“I’d hope so, he does make good food.”

“No you idiot, this,” she added, gesturing with her chopsticks. “Us, here, together.”

Richard smiled. “I know what you mean, it feels right.”

Olivia frowned, “It does feel wrong that more of our relationship has been in a hospital room than anywhere else.”

“We have all the time in the world to correct that,” Richard replied softly. “And I plan to.”

He kissed her cheek gently and went back to his noodles.

“Today was awful,” she admitted. “I thought my legs were going to fall off.”

“It will get easier. What did the doctor say?”

The big moment of truth had arrived. She had to be honest and she was afraid. Olivia put down her carton and turned as best she could to face Richard.

“Well, I’m healing well, there’s no infection to worry about. She’s started me on hormone replacement shots to make up for what I’m missing so my recovery proceeds as well as possible.”

Richard looked at her for a moment. “When do the tears start?”

Olivia couldn’t speak. Her voice felt like it was trapped in her throat. “How?” she managed eventually.

Richard set down his meal and smiled. “Can you really sit there like that and tell me you asked her to make you a big muscly man?”

Olivia looked down at her hands. She could feel a lump in her chest as her emotions swirled. “No, I can’t.”

“Baby, the more I see you, the more I see that this is the real you,” he gestured toward her. “That beauty I saw in you; that kind, caring, wonderful person is so much more vivid and full of color when you’re Olivia. You might not be sure yourself but I can see how you feel when you’re dressing as Harry compared with now. You look like shit, but you look like a whole person.”

Olivia glanced at the T-shirt and sweatpants she wore, catching the curve of her chest and a strand of her hair against the top.

“I wish it was real.” she muttered. “I really think I’m crazy.”

“No.”

“No?”

“You’re not crazy,” Richard kissed her forehead. “Not at all.”

As the month passed, life became frustratingly monotonous for Olivia. Recovery was difficult and was progressing painfully slowly. Her stitches had been removed and her pain medication had been reduced further. Physical therapy sessions continued much to her chagrin, although she was walking more on her own and with both Richard and Kelly as she became able to leave the apartment for longer stretches. Eventually, she was able to walk along the pier for short stretches as long as she was given frequent chances to rest.

The injection was beginning to have an effect on her, she could tell. As far as she could see, it was only emotional at the moment. She found her mood far less stable and caught herself crying at the slightest thing and flying into tirades of frustration at her condition. She wasn’t sure, but she thought her sense of smell had changed too. One morning, when Richard had bent down to kiss her, she had asked if he had a new cologne but he hadn’t changed a thing. In truth, she loved what was happening to her and it was the most peaceful she had felt in her entire life.

She had arranged to see one of the psychiatrists on Doctor Miller’s list and the day had approached all too quickly. She hadn’t questioned her choice to arrive as Olivia for the session as she now consigned Harry to a disguise of necessity. Summer was in full effect and the city sweltered. She had dressed comfortably in a strappy sundress that didn’t expose a lot of her chest and fell to her mid-thigh. Flat sandals and light makeup completed her look. She had fussed for a long time in the mirror before she felt satisfied with her appearance.

The psychiatrist’s office was a thirty-minute drive up the coast by a pretty little pier overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Olivia stepped out of the Uber and rested against a railing. She looked out towards the vast expanse of ocean for a moment while she collected herself. She had come alone, wanting to face this herself, and she took the moment to steel her nerves before entering the office.

When she entered, she found the small office comfortably appointed and a young female receptionist sat behind a low mahogany desk in the waiting area.

“Can I help you?” She asked cheerfully as Olivia limped in through the door.

“I’m here to see Doctor Barton at twelve-thirty, Olivia Dalton.” she replied, leaning against the desk.

“Let me check, are you ok? Do you need a hand?”

Olivia shook her head. “I’ll manage, they told me to use my crutches but I hate them.”

“I have it here. Please take a seat over there,” she answered, pointing to a sofa by the window. “I know the feeling,” the girl smiled slyly. “I broke my ankle last year and I couldn’t stand it.”

Olivia was barely waiting five minutes when a middle-aged woman with gray-salted red hair appeared at the door. “Olivia?”

She waited patiently for Olivia to drag herself to her feet and limp through to her office. Her energy waning, Olivia accepted her arm to help her sit in a padded armchair by a huge picture window overlooking the beach.

Doctor Barton took a seat in a chair facing her and regarded her for a moment.

“So you were referred to me by Doctor Miller at Kaiser, I hear you experienced a traumatic event?”

“I was shot at work.” Olivia answered shifting in her seat to find comfort.

Doctor Barton’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“I was fighting a man for his gun and it went off, I was hit in the pelvis and thighs.” she answered, raising the hem of her dress slightly to show the lowest of the still-healing red welts on her leg.

“You poor thing, the file she sent over explained you were a police officer? You didn’t want to go through your department’s own therapists?”

“Well, I was told you were a specialist in other areas, Doctor Barton.”

Doctor Barton nodded. “Call me Marie, yes, as I’m sure you’re aware I’m a specialist in gender issues although I do deal with post-traumatic stress and sexual assault survivors.”

“I suppose my…experience,” Olivia explained. “Well, it forced me to evaluate feelings I’ve been having, and given that I have a lot of time on my hands, I realized it was time to confront them.”

Marie Barton jotted down something on her pad. “So would you explain how you feel about yourself? Your background? What is it about you that makes you feel as though you should have been born a boy?”

Olivia balked. “A boy?”

Marie nodded. “I’m sure you already explained to Doctor Miller but her notes are typically awful, the referral wasn’t very detailed.”

Olivia shook her head, “No, no, I was born a boy. I guess I really don’t think I should be, I think?”

It was Marie Barton’s turn to look surprised. She set her notebook down on the arm of her chair and regarded Olivia more seriously.

“You’re extremely convincing I have to say. How long have you been living as a woman?”

Olivia shrugged. “Mostly the last month or two but I suppose I’ve been dressing for five or six years.”

Olivia began to explain her childhood and her feelings to Doctor Barton. She started back at her earliest memories and tried to be as honest as possible. She explained her discovery of drag performance since arriving in California from the conservative world of Montana. She described meeting Richard, their romance, and her gradual acceptance of her new presentation.

“Do you have any photographs of your stage persona?” Marie asked.

Olivia dug out her cell phone from the small shoulder bag she carried. How had she lived without a handbag before? She pulled up the same image she had shown Richard over dinner. It was the wild blue and pink promotional photograph she loved the most.

Marie’s eyebrows rose. “This is quite a look.” she admitted. “You’re extremely convincing for a drag artist.”

Olivia flushed. “I never wanted to be a parody. That felt right.”

Marie nodded and made some notes before glancing at the clock.

“Our session is nearly over, but I want to see you more regularly. I realize that your situation is relatively unique given your injuries and Cathy, Doctor Miller made the right choice given the circumstances. Estrogen will be far less emotionally damaging to you in your current state and I feel confident we will make a diagnosis in enough time for no harm to occur permanently in either direction. Leaving you without would be far more harmful to your recovery in the time being.

Tentatively, you would seem to match the criteria for a Gender Dysphoria diagnosis, but I won’t set that in stone until we’ve spoken more. Your experiences are in line with many in your situation although you’ve taken a highly unusual path to reach it.” she admitted.

“So I can continue with the shots, can’t I?” Olivia asked with concern.

Marie nodded. “Yes, but we’ll make another appointment to discuss this, and I absolutely want to address your trauma too while we’re here. I feel we can work better with that in this environment than a department therapist. You can let them know you’re seeing me and I am capable of providing a report for them when the time comes.” she noticed the look on Olivia’s face.

“And I’ll gender the report however you wish at that time should you need me to.” she added with a smile.

Olivia thanked her and allowed her to help her out to the waiting Uber once they were done. Giving the driver her address she watched the ocean pass as they drove back toward the city. She felt a mixture of relief and calm as she reflected on the session. She had expected pushback or denial from the psychiatrist. The world told her this was wrong, that she was wrong. She had, however, been heard and told she wasn’t entirely crazy. This was the first time she had articulated her entire life story and what surprised her was that this seemed to fit. Memories and thoughts she had understood only in the isolation of a disjointed mess of fear and harassment suddenly made a lot more sense. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she smiled to herself. She might make it out of this in one piece after all.

Richard unlocked the door to his apartment and entered. He was working long hours for an upcoming trial and he would far rather be spending time with Olivia. He saw how painful movement still was for her and he wanted to be available to help take her to the various places she needed to go. He knew she was independent and willful but he couldn’t help wanting to look after her.

The scent hit his nostrils as soon as he passed the doorway. Following his nose, he entered the kitchen to see Olivia hovering over the stove stirring a pot. She was propping herself up against the counter and he could see the pain that was wracking her body. His heart broke when she attempted to smile through the obvious pain.

Without a word, he scooped her up in his arms as delicately as he could and carried her through to the living room, and placed her on the sofa.

“I could have finished,” she muttered, the tension already leaving her body.

Richard shook his head. “I told you I’d take care of the food while you were healing, I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Olivia seemed defeated. “I just wanted to do something nice for you, I feel like I’m a leach.”

Richard leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, but it’s unnecessary. You shouldn’t have strained yourself like that, what would happen if you’d set yourself back? Or hurt yourself? Fallen?”

“I’m not an invalid.” Olivia pouted.

“I know,” Richard stroked her hair. “And a man could get used to having his lady make dinner for him when he gets home.” he added, stepping quickly out of reach before she could smack him.

“I got this, just give me instructions,” he called as he made his way into the kitchen to finish what she had started.

Olivia dispatched orders to her servant from her well-padded throne. She was disappointed that she was unable to finish her surprise but admitted she had overdone things a little. Richard completed the remaining tasks and soon the pair were eating while Olivia replayed the day's events and her visit to the psychiatrist.

“So she thinks this is something real for you?” he asked between bites.

Olivia nodded. “The more I explained it and the more she directed me to expand on feelings it started to click together. I’m starting to feel that it explains a lot more than I was willing to admit. I had never even considered it to be a possible outcome to how I felt. When I experienced various feelings of dissociation, I attributed them to my sexual attraction to men rather than who I was at my core. It explains perhaps why I never wanted to be a caricature on stage and why I started to do this more often now I feel safe. I think before I was so afraid of what others thought of me that I bottled things up inside and buried them,” she admitted. “This doesn’t bother you, does it?”

Richard shook his head. “No,” he replied. “Ever since I realized this was more serious for you, I think I almost expected this outcome. I want you to do whatever you feel is right for you and I’ll stand by that. I love you.”

Olivia kissed his cheek. “Well, I can finally say I turned a man straight.” she chuckled softly.

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Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

Going forward Driftwood will be posted in two chapter packages to let the story flow a bit better, one at a time worked, but now... it feels better this way. Enjoy!

The next morning Olivia was focusing on walking around the apartment when she heard the doorbell. Hobbling over to the door, she checked to see who was there. A slim, brunette woman that looked vaguely familiar was standing there smiling. It took Olivia a moment to recognize Deputy Taylor out of uniform.

Opening the door, she smiled curiously. “Hey, ah, hi?”

Taylor smiled. “Kelly told me where you lived, I figured after everything that happened I’d give you some space, but I wanted to check in and see how you were doing?”

Olivia gestured for her to come in before hobbling back over to the sofa and plopping down in her regular spot. “I was going to call.” she admitted, “I got a little occupied.”

Taylor sat down beside her and nodded. “Yeah I noticed.” she chuckled with a wrinkle of her nose. “Not doing things by halves, huh?”

Olivia smiled. “Yeah, It’s been pretty rough, I can’t lie; but it’s really changed a lot of things for me.”

Taylor regarded Olivia’s appearance and grinned. “Yeah, I get the impression the guy that got shot that day isn’t coming back is he?”

Olivia shook her head without reservation. “He’s not.”

The woman inclined her head and put her hand on Olivia’s arm, “Want to tell me about that?”

Over the next few hours, Olivia explained everything to Abigail Taylor. She spared no detail in her story and the woman listened with rapt interest. The two talked about their lives and their interests, their hopes and dreams. Abigail was more like her than she realized. The girl was originally from a small, rural town in Central California called Morro Bay and she regaled Olivia with tales of her small town High School even revealing her past as a varsity cheerleader, a fact on which she swore Olivia to secrecy.

Olivia told Abigail all about her childhood in the wilds of Montana and the difficulties she faced there. It turned out their rural pasts were surprisingly similar, something she hadn’t expected to find in the urban metropolis of LA. By the time they parted ways, Olivia felt she’d found a true friend.

As Abigail was leaving, she turned to Olivia one final time, wrapping her in a warm embrace. “You know, you’re like the kid sister I never had.” she admitted with a smile. “From another mother and state entirely.”

Olivia grinned, “Anyone that drives a pickup and earned the right to wear cowboy boots is good by me.”

Abigail smirked and then took on a more serious expression. “Hey, look, make sure you talk to the boss directly about this topic, she’s surprisingly accepting.”

“Really? Like right to her?”

Abigail nodded, “I mean she knows you by name, she visited you in the hospital. You’ve got an in and she’s the one that can make things happen if you need her to.”

Olivia seemed uncertain. “I’ll think about it, but it’s all a bit scary at the moment.”

“Sooner the better, you don’t want this crap hanging over you till you find yourself coming back to work and having to drop it on them.”

“I guess,” Olivia admitted. “Would you come with me?”

“You bet.” Taylor smiled. “

Over the next month, Olivia began to notice more changes. Her skin was starting to feel softer and some of her sharper edges were beginning to smooth out. Her face appeared softer and her emotions, so tumultuous to start with, were beginning to find a new balancing point. She had begun to notice that her nipples were becoming extremely sensitive and itchy. The changes filled her with more joy than she realized, she was on the cusp of womanhood and rather than fear, she felt hope for the first time.

She continued her sessions with Doctor Barton and the lady had formalized her initial diagnosis; Olivia was transgendered. By the point she reached her conclusion, Olivia had already reached her own and become more comfortable with the idea. This was her future and she would need to start preparing for it to leave the shadows.

Her physical recovery was proceeding well and while her physical therapy was exhausting, she was more capable than she had been. She was able to leave the apartment alone with only mild discomfort and a limp as long as she used her crutches.

She knew she would need to change her name, that was now a necessity. Harry Dalton had died that day on the grimy sidewalk. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but what happened to her had been the wake-up she had needed to understand herself.

She had already broached the subject with Doctor Barton and the woman had explained the necessary steps to take to begin the process. With Richard’s help, she had a court date and a plan of action coming up. This was why she found herself outside of the Sheriff’s Department headquarters with a knot in her stomach.

Olivia had dressed as a boy for her meeting with the Sheriff. She knew the bridge would have to be crossed at some point but her first time returning was not the right time. She’d begun to notice the changes happening to her and was positive that her opportunity to handle this return before questions were asked was running out faster than she would like.

Steeling herself, she made her way up the steps to the entrance and approached the front door. A pair of deputies leaving saw her approach on the crutches and held the doors open. She didn’t know them and wasn’t in uniform but they likely noticed the badge around her neck.

The pair nodded a greeting and went on their way while Olivia entered the building. Her journey to the top floor and the command offices took far longer than she had expected. Deputies and support staff she’d barely spoken to all wanted to shake her hand and ask about her recovery. She didn’t realize that many people knew what had happened to her. She lost track of how many times she had to explain her ordeal but left out one notable detail of the injuries she had sustained. The level of friendliness and camaraderie from her colleagues was a new experience for her. It was depressing that she had to nearly die to earn it.

Eventually, she managed to successfully navigate the throngs of well-wishers and found herself in the corridor outside the Sheriff’s office on the top floor of the building while administrative staff bustled around her. Taylor was waiting outside when she arrived. She greeted the woman with a smile.

“Different look for you.” Taylor smirked. “Not much different, but still.”

Olivia rolled her eyes, “I mean I can’t exactly surprise them can I? It won’t be long before doing this is kinda difficult.”

The older Deputy chuckled.

Olivia reflected on what she was going to say to her boss. She knew what she wanted to cover, but she had no idea how she was going to bring the subject up. She was prepared to leave the job and move on, but she hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of running feet on the carpet tile floor. Anderson rounded the corner and nearly collided with a clerk laden with paperwork. She ignored the man’s hateful expression and made for Olivia.

“I’m glad I caught you, I heard you were in the building.” she panted, glancing between Dalton and Taylor with curiosity. “What’s going on?”

“Seeing the Sheriff. It’s just some procedural and paperwork stuff with me coming back.” Olivia explained.

Anderson looked momentarily confused before her eyes went wide with realization. “You want me in there with you?”

Olivia glanced at Taylor and grimaced. “More the merrier I guess.”

“The Sheriff will see you now.” an executive assistant interjected.

Kelly and Abigail helped Olivia stand and followed her into the office. Sheriff Reilly was behind her desk typing at her keyboard, her eyes fixed on the monitor. Olivia had never seen her wear glasses before.

Reilly looked up as they entered. “Dalton, It’s wonderful to see you on your feet, you’re recovering well?”

Olivia stood to attention as best the crutches would allow. “Yes, Ma’am. It’s slow but it’s getting there, I expect about three to four months.”

Reilly nodded and glanced at Kelly. “Taylor, Anderson, why are you here?”

“Support, Ma’am.” The pair answered.

She looked back at Olivia before eying Anderson again. The Sheriff smelled a rat.

“Ok you three, what’s going on? And for god’s sake sit down Dalton, you don’t need to stand there.”

Olivia took the time to seat herself in one of the chairs in front of the Sheriff’s desk. She could sense the others hovering protectively over her shoulder.

Olivia swallowed and decided to get things over with. She was done waiting and it would go right or it wouldn’t, she didn’t care.

“When I was shot Ma’am, I was hit six times. It broke my leg, cut my femoral artery, and most significantly damaged my genitalia. I was left unable to produce hormones naturally.”

She noticed the Sheriff’s mildly annoyed expression shift to one of concern. “No babies, no hormones, no more function really. I was offered replacement therapy to continue a normal life which would allow me to heal and have a sex life, but it would come at a price I wasn’t willing to pay. This incident placed me at a decision-making point for something I’ve been dealing with for some time in private: I’m transgender.”

Reilly’s eyebrows moved, but nowhere near as far as she expected.

“To permit my body’s normal function and allow me to heal properly, I had to be started on hormone therapy, and I wasn’t prepared for that to be testosterone. I’m seeing a psychiatrist and I’m…” she paused to gather her emotions. “I’m leaving Harry behind to exist as me, the real me.”
The Sheriff was silent for a moment. She looked back and forth between Dalton and Anderson and nodded.

“Now I see why you wanted some moral support, Dalton. This must be difficult for you to discuss. Allow for my ignorance, how is this going to impact your return to the job?”

Olivia couldn’t look the woman in the eyes. “I was hoping that you might see fit to allow me to keep my job and come back to work as… well, me.”

The Sheriff stood and walked around to the front of her desk before leaning against it.

“What happened to you was awful and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Are you sure this isn’t a result of losing some perception of manhood?”

Olivia shook her head. “This was something I was wrestling with before that happened, Ma’am, for a long time. This situation forced me to address my own feelings.”

The Sheriff nodded and her expression softened.

“If I may, Sheriff?” Taylor asked politely.

Reilly glanced at her and nodded.

“I first met her by accident, she had a tail light out and I had no idea till I saw her ID. It turned out she was partnered with my old boot Anderson, so after the shooting, I visited her at home. We got to know each other pretty well, I can honestly say she is deadly serious about what she’s saying. On top of that, she looks ridiculous dressed as a guy.”

“She?” The Sheriff raised an eyebrow at Taylor’s choice of pronouns.

Taylor nodded.

The Sheriff pursed her lips and nodded curtly. “I trust your judgment on character, Taylor. You know that and I wasn’t going to say no. I’m just surprised at your choice of words given their appearance.”

“Ma’am, I can’t actually see her any other way even now.” Taylor shrugged.

Reilly studied Dalton for a moment, her eyes regarding the sweatpants and loose hooded sweatshirt Olivia was wearing.

The Sheriff shook her head and smiled. “Maybe you have a point, Taylor.”

She stood and walked over to the window before continuing. “Fair enough then, I’ll approve the change. You’ve got my official support and that of command. I won’t pretend it’s going to be an easy road for you or that you won’t experience any issues. I like to think I helped to craft this department into a progressive example of Modern Law Enforcement. It might be the twenty-twenties and society has progressed a great deal. A lot of prejudices are hard to quash, especially in a masculine environment such as this.”

She looked at Olivia. “You’ll face discrimination and I’m sorry for that. Both as a woman and because of how you got there. I work hard to try and end that sort of crap but it’s like fighting to hold back the tide with a bucket.”

Olivia nodded. “I’m prepared for that, Ma’am. I spent my childhood dealing with people that didn’t like me for who I was.”

The Sheriff regarded her for a moment. “I can see why, no offense.”

Olivia shrugged. “I can’t say it’s not an advantage now.”

Riley smiled. “Quite so,” she agreed, returning to her desk. “You’re taking care of things legally, I assume?”

“I have a court date set for my name change and other formalities, Ma’am,”

The Sheriff nodded. “Send those through to Personnel once you get them, but I’ll have them change your records now. You may be on leave for recovery, but you still hold a badge and a gun and I won’t have you getting into trouble because of this. I’ll need your new name and a promise.”

“Ma’am?”

“Tone down your look from the stage please.”

Olivia gawked. “You knew about that?”

“I’ve seen you perform twice, I never knew it was you till quite recently. Miss Russo keeps trying to turn me to the dark side.”

Olivia felt herself turn bright red. “No,” she stumbled, “I mean of course not, Ma’am. That’s not really me, I mean that’s a character.”

Reilly held up her hand. “I know, I just want you to smile for once in this meeting, Dalton. Lord knows you’ve had a rough go of it. I want you to know we have your back.”

“I appreciate that Ma’am, and thank you. And it’s Olivia Evelyn Dalton.”

“Olivia Dalton,” the Sheriff noted on a pad. “Wonderful. Now get out of here and get yourself healed, I’ll expect full compliance with the female dress code on your return, Deputy.”

Anderson and Taylor helped Olivia to her feet and followed her out into the hallway. Once they were safely out of earshot of the administration staff, Kelly turned and hugged her partner.

“Congratulations girly. One step closer.”

Olivia let out a sigh she’d been holding. “That’s it then, I’m dumping this for good.” she grimaced, plucking at her hoodie.

“Hate to break it to you dear, but you haven’t really looked like a guy in a while.”

“Nobody said anything today.”

“Men won’t notice anything unless you slap them in the face with it.” Abigail smirked.

“Duh, all they see is the crutches and the limp.” Kelly added

“Well I want my boobs back till they’re permanent.” Olivia muttered.

Kelly laughed as they walked out into the parking lot. “Trust me, I wish I could take mine off sometimes.”

Olivia lay curled up in bed beside Richard later that evening. His soft, rhythmic breathing soothed her spirit. He was the first man she had ever slept beside without first having sex. They had gone to bed because that’s what couples do; to sleep. She hadn’t simply slept beside someone since she was little and she’d forgotten how comforting it was. Glancing at the clock told her it was just after one in the morning. Since her injury, she found herself waking up at strange hours but rarely felt like getting up. Lying beside her man while he slept felt magical.

As she thought back over her journey so far, she was still surprised to find herself here. For so long, her life had been a grueling experience where every day was an exercise in avoiding getting her ass kicked. She had family, but it wasn’t like other people. They loved her because she was blood, but not because they liked her. She never overtly told them about her sexuality but they seemed to know regardless.

Disappointed was probably the best word she could use to describe how they felt. When she came home with black eyes or bruises, they never commented and the only advice she received when she complained was that she should learn to stand up to them; to help herself.

They were right, she realized, only helping herself probably hadn’t turned out the way they might have expected.

Olivia rolled over slowly and snuggled up to Richard’s back. She felt a slight pressure as the small mounds behind her nipples pressed into his back through her nightdress. The girl smiled to herself in the darkness.

Her day in court came and went a week later with little fanfare. Richard had asked one of his colleagues to represent her in the simple hearing as his relationship prevented him from doing so himself. In a state such as California, the process was formal but trivial. She had the paperwork she needed and the judge handled the proceedings efficiently. An hour later, Olivia left the courthouse officially Olivia Evelyn Dalton, a female in the eyes of the law.

Weeks turned into months as Olivia began to heal more rapidly. She had stopped taking pain medication entirely and her Physical Therapy sessions had turned into strength-building exercises as her crutches became a thing of the past. She’d long ago given up attending the sessions as Harry.

The changes to her body had become more dramatic as time passed. Her skin was far softer and her breasts had started to properly develop, much to her excitement. The repeated and unrelenting PT sessions had helped her body to recycle its fat stores and she felt her hips and buttocks broadening as her waist narrowed. Her wig had been cast aside as her own hair had grown long enough to be styled in a feminine manner. Relatively adept with hair styling from her wig collection, she had managed somewhat awkwardly to give herself a haircut and now sported a cute shaggy pixie style that accentuated her fine features. She wasn’t quite ready to face a salon full of women yet.

Her relationship with Richard had begun to resume its physicality as the pain faded and her strength returned. Richard was a cautious and caring lover that took great care in ensuring she was comfortable and not over-exerting herself. The changes her body had experienced gave sex an entirely new meaning for Olivia; it had become a whole-body experience that she greatly enjoyed.

The couple lay naked in bed basking in the afterglow of their love. Richard’s fingers were lazily tracing the edge of Olivia’s nipple as he caught his breath.

Olivia rolled over to face him on the pillow.

“I love you.” she whispered, her fingers dancing through the hair on his broad chest.

“I love you too.” he replied with a lazy, tired smile.

“I hope I can be enough for you.” Olivia said softly as she felt a pang of doubt in her heart, “I feel so awful that you’ve had to deal with all of this mess”

Richard looked hurt. “Never say that honey. You’re never a burden and I couldn’t imagine my life without you”

“I can’t give you children.” she sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek. “You deserve more than my fucked up mess in your life.”

Richard pulled her into his arms, her back against his chest. “I don’t care,” he whispered, kissing her hair. “I nearly lost you once, and I don’t ever want to again. Whatever I face in life, I want to do it with you.”

Olivia looked up at Richard, their bodies pressed together.

“I think for the first time in my life, I’m actually happy.”

Richard squeezed her, “I always went through life looking for the next experience, the next person to spend time with. I never realized that it was a void I was trying to fill with shallow human connection. I see so much damage at work it began to affect me. We started to get more serious than I ever have with anyone before. When I nearly lost you, It cut me to my core far more than I was prepared to understand. Seeing you go through that and battle your own demons at the same time makes me want to just hold you and keep you safe.”

Richard rested his chin on the top of Olivia’s head and sat quietly for a moment before he spoke again. “It sounds so cliche, but it’s like I found a missing part of myself when I fell in love with you. You complete me.”

Olivia was leaving the hospital after a checkup and PT appointment when her phone rang. The number on the screen stopped her dead in her tracks.

Mom.

Olivia hadn’t spoken to her mother more than a handful of times in the past six years. She could always tell the woman was disappointed in her and felt the strain over the phone line each time.

Steeling herself, she dropped her pitch slightly into Harry’s vocal range and answered.

“Hello?”

“Harry, are you ok?” His mother sounded worried.

“Sure,” she lied, “How are…”

“Harry, I know what happened. Why didn’t you call us?”

Olivia was starting to panic. She moved away from the busy entrance and found a quiet bench to continue the conversation. “What do you mean, Mom?”

“One of your father’s friends was visiting LA and he saw an article in the newspaper about a Sheriff’s Deputy shot in a robbery, it had your photograph and name.”

Olivia swallowed, she hadn’t told them. She didn’t think they’d care.

“I’m ok, it wasn’t bad,” she lied. “It was a few months ago, I didn’t want to bother you.”

Her mother’s tone shifted to one of sadness. “No baby, you were shot six times.”

Tears welled in her eyes and she tried to keep her voice level. “I didn’t think you’d care,” she muttered.

There was silence on the phone for a moment. “I know you hate us, but I was so worried when I heard, I had to call, I needed to see if you were ok. I’ve missed you.”

Olivia sobbed. “I don’t hate you, I… miss you all but I know I’m not welcome.”

“You’re always welcome, we… we just didn’t know how to help you. By the time we thought we knew how to, you’d grown distant. Then you left.”

“I had to get out of there. I felt like I was alone, it hurt Mom.”

She could hear her mother crying on the other end of the phone. “Please, I want to see you.”

Olivia felt a pang of fear. “I’m fine Mom, it’s ok.”

“No baby, it’s been too long. I won’t lie, your father and I made mistakes, and I want to try to fix them if you’ll let me. The fact that my own child got shot and nearly died, and didn’t tell me means I screwed up as a parent.”

Olivia was silent.

“Say something please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Harry, you’re my child. I wasn’t the best mother and I tried to make choices that I thought would help you grow strong. I thought I was preparing my sweet baby boy to face the adversity of life. You were always so gentle and caring, the world was going to eat you alive… I thought I was helping.” she sniffed.

“I’m not the same person that left home Mom.” Olivia replied vaguely. “I’ve changed a lot.”

That was the biggest understatement of the century, she thought.

“That’s ok, we all need to.” her mother answered softly.

Olivia thought for a moment. No matter what she did, their meeting was going to be difficult. Should she explain now? Should she wait and arrive? Letting her mother come to her would be too much of a culture shock, she thought.

“I can come home if you’d like. I’ve still got some time off for my recovery?”

“Are you well enough to travel?”

“I am, I guess. I think I’d like to see the mountains again.”

“I’ll tell the others, they’ll be happy to see you.”

“We’ll see, I still have my doubts.”

Olivia glanced at her reflection in the smoked glass of the building beside her. Her hair was messy from her exercise and she was wearing a cropped tank top and yoga pants. She looked like any other young woman.

“Mom, I’ve really changed a lot.”

Her mother sniffed, “That you’re alive and willing to speak to me is enough, everything else doesn’t matter now.”

They continued to speak for a while until Olivia’s Uber arrived and she said her goodbyes. She didn’t know how she felt about the situation. For her entire life, she had decided her parents really didn’t want her. Like all children, she had thought her parents were mythical beings that achieved everything they intended and did no wrong. She blamed them because she saw their actions as intentional, not a mistake. Her mother admitting that she’d been wrong made her doubt her own feelings. Was there a chance they could understand?

Later that evening, Olivia explained the phone call to Richard. As she expected, he insisted on going with her no matter how much she protested. The idea of returning home at first terrified her. Home only held bad memories from her childhood but her phone call had begun to make her doubt herself. She knew she missed the place itself. Montana was unlike any other state in the country, it wasn’t somewhere you ever forgot.

A plan began to form for the coming week. She would fly out to Bozeman with Richard and they’d get a hotel room in town. Once she was there she would meet her mother somewhere public and make further plans depending on how the big reveal was received. It seemed the safest and most risk-free approach to face the situation. If things went wrong, they could leave and never look back. She imagined arriving at the family ranch in a sundress and heels and knocking on the door unannounced; that could end poorly.

She wasn’t sure how they would react to her new self. Life was bad enough when they thought she was gay. Technically she wasn’t anymore, did that count in her favor?

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

As they descended over the mountains, Olivia felt a strange sense of calm wash over her despite the meeting she would have to face. The view of the wild landscape of Montana was breathtaking and it drew with it a powerful feeling of joy for the place she had left so long ago. That joy was darkened by the bad memories of her childhood.

Richard sensed her discomfort and took her hand in his as he joined her watching the view outside the window.

“Good to be home?”

She nodded, still staring out into the early morning glow that bathed the peaks and highlands below. “I think so. I’ve missed it, but it’s not all good memories. I don’t think I really realized how much I loved it here till I left.”

“A cowgirl at heart.” he chuckled. “I’m afraid I’m going to be very much out of my depth.”

Olivia shook her head and grinned. “You’ll do fine, Bozeman even has indoor bathrooms now.”

Richard gave her a look as though he wasn’t sure if she was kidding.

They touched down at Bozeman Yellowstone International shortly after nine that morning. The skies were clear and the sun was warm as they disembarked onto the tarmac.

Olivia closed her eyes and tilted her face towards the sun and took a deep breath. The air was pungent with jet fuel and exhaust but it was her first breath of Montana air in over six years. It felt good to be back. The clear sky made her realize how normal the LA smog had become to her in her time away. After clearing the airport and collecting their luggage, Olivia collected the keys to their rental and the couple made their way toward the parking structure connected to the terminal. After a short walk, she pressed the fob and saw a pair of headlights flash in the gloom. She grinned and approached their rental for the week.

“Isn’t this a bit much?” Richard asked with a frown.

Olivia looked at the large black pickup, it was a new model Dodge Ram. “No honey, it’s not.”

“I’ve never driven a truck before.”

“Oh you’re not driving, city boy.” she laughed lifting her luggage into the bed. “This beauty is all mine, and I don’t need you tarnishing my nonexistent reputation by driving like a tourist.”

Richard shook his head and climbed up into the passenger seat with a little trepidation at the scale of the vehicle. Turning the key, Olivia felt the vibrations of the truck roll through her body. Switching on the radio, she picked a country station and pulled out of the bay.

“You’re really going to force me to listen to this, aren’t you?”

“Sure am, cowboy,” she drawled with a smirk. Richard grimaced as he started to realize what he was getting himself into.

They joined Interstate 90 south towards the city of Bozeman. Everything looked exactly as she remembered. The wide-open landscape dominated the sprawling city ahead of them. Bozeman wasn’t a small place by a long stretch. The city was home to just over a hundred thousand residents and more during tourist season. The world around it was just so darn big that it made man’s impact feel grossly insignificant.

They had booked a room at the Hilton Garden Inn just outside the city center. It was a little high-brow for Olivia’s taste, but she hadn’t wanted to throw Richard too far into the deep end. Before they arrived, Olivia pulled into a strip mall off the freeway and parked the truck. “Stay here.” she explained, “I’ll be right back.”

Hopping down, she headed for a country outfitter. She’d brought her boots with her to Los Angeles. For a native Montanan, they were almost a part of her religion, they couldn’t be parted with but she had left one item behind and it was something that had to be corrected.

Stepping into the store, she reveled in the scent of leather and old wood that permeated every surface of the establishment. Soft country music was playing on hidden speakers and people moved around examining various items. She made a beeline for a display of hats and found the item she was looking for almost straight away; a tan Stetson Skyline.

Placing the hat on her head she turned towards the mirror and examined her reflection. She certainly looked the part. The clothes were quite similar to things she’d worn growing up, but they fitted her entirely differently now. She was wearing a blue plaid shirt tucked into her bootcut jeans. Her boots, buckle and now the hat finished the look. This wasn’t the glamor of Mia Calafia, this wasn’t the male facade she’d worn growing up here, this was Olivia Evelyn Dalton.

“That suits you, ma’am.” a gravel-laden voice behind her announced.

Olivia turned to see an older rancher tip his hat in her direction.

She smiled politely. “Lost my old one a long time ago,” she explained. “I didn’t feel right buying one out in California.”

The man smiled. “Sure don’t.”

The man departed with a nod. Olivia smiled. People were exactly the way she remembered. The fact the man had spoken to her confirmed that he hadn’t seen a tourist when he looked at her. Feeling good about her choice, she removed the hat and made her way to the cashier, and paid for her purchase. Far poorer, she left the store and made her way back across the parking lot toward the waiting truck.

Hopping up into the cab, she backed out and set off for the hotel.

“I should get myself one of those.” Richard mused examining the hat that had been dumped in his lap.

“I don’t know if it would work with your suits.” Olivia teased.

They arrived at the hotel and checked into their suite shortly before eleven that morning. Olivia took the opportunity to rest on the luxurious king-sized bed for a while. She felt almost healed sometimes, but after a while, she ached and needed a break. It was frustrating, but a vast improvement from the previous months.

It was one in the afternoon when she was woken by her phone ringing. She picked it up and hit the accept button.

“Mm, yeah,” she mumbled sluggishly.

“I’m calling for Harry?” It was her mother.

“Uh, yeah,” she affirmed, letting her voice settle a bit lower.

“Are you ok? You sound a little strange?” his mother asked. “Did you get in ok?”

“Tired sorry. Yes w… I got in a few hours ago, I’m at the hotel now.”

“I don’t know why you needed to get a hotel,” her mother sounded mildly hurt but as though she understood. “I’d like to see you?”

Olivia thought for a moment. “Wild Joe’s for coffee, an hour?”

“I’m in town on some errands, so sure, that works.” his mother agreed somewhat skeptically as she began to notice a pattern of distance forming.

“Look, Mom,” Olivia began. “I just want to meet somewhere neutral and public this first time at least… things have changed a lot for me, and I’m still really uncertain about being here, It’s not all good memories. Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything?”

“Hear me out, ok?”

“I will, I’ll see you soon Harry.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Olivia ended the call and held the phone to her chest. This might be the last time she saw her mother. The idea of a permanent end to her relationship felt extremely painful despite how distant they’d become.

An hour later, Olivia was walking down the sidewalk of West Main Street towards Wild Joe’s Coffee Spot, a local institution in Bozeman. She hadn’t changed, she wanted to ease her mother into her surprise daughter. She had opened the neck of her shirt a little further to expose her white tank top and a small amount of décolletage just to drive the point home, however. She had left her breast forms behind on this trip opting only for a padded bra to emphasize her small but developing bust. While not significant, she wanted to make the change a little easier to accept.

She stepped into the coffee shop hesitantly, the smell of roasting beans was heavy in the warm air. Glancing around, she saw her mother sitting at a table on the far side of the establishment. She looked good, Olivia hadn’t realized just how much she had missed the woman.

Evelyn Dalton had always been a beautiful woman. She was five foot five, blonde, and shared the same fine Nordic features as Olivia. Seeing her now, she realized her mother looked much older and tired. She hadn’t seen her yet, and Olivia watched for a moment as she sat, nervously glancing around the room.

Realizing she had to move, Olivia approached the table where her mother sat and stood nervously before her. “Hey Mom.” she offered quietly, not hiding her voice.

Evelyn Dalton looked up at the young woman in front of her and seemed confused at first, her mouth opened as though she were about to speak, to tell this girl that she was mistaken when she froze and her eyes went wide.

“Harry?” she asked uncertainly.

Olivia sat slowly in the chair facing her mother. “I told you I’d changed a lot.”

Her mother stared at her silently, her eyes taking in every detail. Olivia felt her heart beating in her chest.

“Is that you?” the woman asked, slowly reaching out for Olivia’s hand on the table.

Olivia brushed her hair out of her eyes and nodded. “I didn’t really know how to explain this, Mom.”

Evelyn shook her head. “I never expected this at all. I guessed you might be gay, but this I never saw.”

“Growing up, I never fitted in,” Olivia explained. “I didn’t really want to do what the other boys did. I didn’t want to behave like them and then… I started to find them attractive, I thought I really was gay.”

Olivia paused for a moment. “When I left for college, I was putting this place in my rearview. I was leaving the pain, the bullying, and the rejection behind and I threw myself into my new life. I embraced who I thought I was but I never seemed to fit there either. I started doing drag when some friends introduced me to it and it became one of the few times I felt happy. It was when I felt like a whole person. Things ended up spiraling from there and I started to explore myself and when I got hurt, well it changed things for me quite significantly and I realized I had to do this, I had to be me.”

“What do you mean?”

“One of the bullets,” Olivia said softly, feeling a pang of pain as she relived the events that had torn her apart. “It damaged my genitals, I would never produce testosterone or have kids, and when they offered me shots to replace it I couldn’t do it. It felt wrong.”

Evelyn held her hands to her mouth as a tear ran down her cheek. “That you felt you had to go through that alone, I’m so sorry, we never knew.”

Olivia frowned. “I didn’t tell you,” she admitted. “I blamed you and Dad. Mark and Sarah didn’t want anything to do with me.”

Her mother sat dejectedly, tears forming in her eyes. “We tried baby… Your father and I, we thought you were such a gentle small boy, we thought the world would eat you alive.” she shook her head. “We thought the best thing we could do for you was let you fight your own battles, learn to be like your brother, and toughen up to find your own strength. By the time we realized what that had done to you, you had withdrawn into yourself and barely spoke to us… We failed you.”

Olivia realized she was crying too. “I thought you hated me for being who I was,” she admitted quietly. “I felt so alone. That school was hell, I had no friends and my own family just let it happen.”

Evelyn stared at her sadly. Her mother suddenly looked far older than her fifty years. “Now I see why you wanted to meet me here,” she sighed. “In case I rejected you or made a scene.”

Olivia couldn’t answer, she simply nodded.

Evelyn stood and rounded the table. She pulled Olivia to her feet and hugged her tightly. Olivia couldn’t hold back, she cried. She cried for her misery, she cried for her loneliness, and she cried for her soul. Every emotion flooded out of her eyes as she gripped her mother fiercely. Every ounce of fear and pain flowed freely.

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there holding each other, but she finally felt love. She felt the connection she had dreamed of with her parents and the closure of a chapter in her life. A new one was beginning and she felt her heart sing with hope for the first time.

The two detangled themselves from one another and just stared into each other's eyes. It was the first time Olivia saw her mother as a woman, not a mother. She could see the pain in her eyes, the realization that she had made a mistake and she regretted it.

“I forgive you.” she said gently. “Mom, I love you.”

Evelyn smiled sadly. “I love you too Ha…” she frowned. “That doesn’t work does it?”

“Olivia Mom, Olivia Evelyn Dalton.”

Her mother smiled. “That’s a beautiful name for a daughter.”

Olivia walked along the sidewalk with her mother. The pair had spoken for several hours in the coffee shop. Olivia eventually brought up Richard after her mother asked if there was anyone in her life. Naturally, Evelyn had asked to meet the man that stole her child’s heart. As they walked back to the hotel, Olivia reflected on her childhood and experiences. She had hated growing up, but she realized now that her own confusion and pain had been a major component of that experience. Her mother’s explanation helped her to come to terms with how they’d treated her, but she still wished it could have been so very different.

She could see her mother glancing in her direction as they walked. “Still hard to get your head around?”

Evelyn nodded. “It is, I won’t lie. I don’t think I expected it at all. In hindsight, I think it explains a lot of things dear.”

“And you’re ok with this? And me loving a man?”

Evelyn thought for a moment. “I’m so very blessed that you came back into my life after these years and we were able to talk and understand each other better.” she paused for a moment, “and to think that you nearly died in that awful city… How my child wishes to appear is less important in the grand scheme of things.”

Olivia seemed unconvinced.

“Is this a lot for me to get used to? Yes.” Evelyn admitted. “I don’t know how to deal with this, but what I do know is you’re here, and you’re alive. I will get used to everything else. For a daughter, a man is entirely normal… so there is that.”

Evelyn turned, taking her daughter’s shoulders as they arrived at the foyer of the Hilton. “For what it’s worth dear, you’re very pretty, I do love you.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Olivia smiled and hugged her mother. “You don’t know how much those words mean to me.”

Olivia had called ahead and by the time they reached the bar of the hotel, Richard was waiting for them. On seeing the two women, he stood and waited for them to approach.

“Mrs. Dalton.” He greeted the older woman, offering his hand. “A pleasure.”

Evelyn regarded Richard with a critical eye. He wasn’t a Montanan and his crisp suit betrayed his well heeled city life. His hair was neat and his facial hair was fashionably scruffy. He looked like the lawyer Olivia had described him as. The look of concern in his eyes for her daughter, however, told her all she needed to know: This man loved her, it was plain to see.

Richard took Olivia’s hand as he gave her a quick look which she returned wordlessly with a slight nod. Evelyn smiled at the exchange.

“So you’re the man that stole my child’s heart?” she replied as she took his hand.

“I’m glad to see things went well.” Richard observed with the hint of a smile. “I was trying to barter with a man to borrow his white horse but I remembered I can’t ride.”

Evelyn shook her head. “That will need to change if you want to marry my daughter.”

“Mom!” Olivia exclaimed, turning red. Perhaps there were sides to being a daughter that she was going to regret.

The group talked for an hour over drinks as they got to know each other better. Evelyn was growing to like Richard. He was sincere and honest and wielded a sharp wit. His care for her child was extremely evident. As she bade her farewells, Evelin suggested a proposal for the following day.

“I’ll speak to your father, brother, and sister tonight” she announced. I’ll do the groundwork, but you’re coming home tomorrow to see them yourself.”

“At once?” Olivia grimaced. “Isn’t that going to be a little much?”

Evelyn shook her head. “It will be fine, and it’s better to get it over with in one blow, dear. You’ve got me on your side, remember.”

“You can do it,” Richard affirmed. “I’ll be there in spirit.”

Evelyn nodded her approval. “You’re most welcome Mr. Knight, but you’re right, this first time needs to be just family.”

Evelyn left to return to the ranch promising to return the next day. Olivia followed Richard back up to their room. She hadn’t realized just how exhausted she was. They had left Los Angeles early that morning and the emotional strain of the day had taken its toll on her, body and spirit.

Olivia kicked off her boots and shimmied out of her jeans as she headed for the bathroom to remove her makeup. Once done, she returned to the bedroom in just her panties and tank top before falling face-first onto the bed in a heap.

“Attractive.” Richard chuckled as he carefully undressed by the side table. The only response he got was a neatly manicured middle finger.

“After the day I’ve had, I don’t give a fuck anymore,” Olivia muttered into the pillow.

“You did great, I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s far from over yet.” Olivia countered.

“But the first hurdle is always the hardest, you have one ally here, remember that.”

Olivia raised her head off the pillow and stuck her tongue out at Richard before faceplanting again.

“You’re such a child.” he chuckled.

The next morning Olivia waited outside the foyer of the Hilton. She was more nervous than she had felt in her entire life. Her mother’s acceptance was a significant weight off her shoulders, but it had placed hope in her heart; hope she now feared would be dashed by the confrontation ahead.

She had dressed more femininely this morning as if she needed to prove a point to her family, especially the men. Dressing more like the average Montana ranch girl the day before had worked with her mother, but she hoped the groundwork had at least taken the sting out of the reception she would face. This morning was already warm and promised to only get hotter as August ravaged the land. She had dressed in a denim skirt, a white tank top, and a loose, open shirt along with her favorite boots. She felt comfortable, but she hoped it was more than girly enough to prove her womanhood to her family.

Her reverie was broken when her mother pulled into the driveway in her truck. Olivia felt happy seeing her, it reminded her she had at least one friend here at home now. The tricky part would be convincing three more. That made the task ahead harder yet. Winning her mother over had made this feel like home again, a feeling she now feared she might lose.

Olivia felt the apprehension grow as they drove along the highway toward her childhood home. Riding in her mom’s truck was bringing back memories of her teenage years. As she looked down at her bare legs and the skirt she was wearing. She felt as though she was time traveling in an alternate dimension where she had grown up a girl to begin with.

She was terrified of what she would face when they got to the Dalton Ranch. Part of her hoped and begged for acceptance, but realized more realistically the most she might hope for was a grudging tolerance. Would they shout? Scream? Would they hate her? She wasn’t sure what she would face, but she knew it would be a trial.

Evelyn looked across the cab at her child as they drove home. She recognized the look on her face. She thought of so many things she might say to comfort the girl but wasn’t sure what the right words might be. She was as out of her depth as the others and it was going to be a tough sell.

An hour outside of Bozeman they reached the ranch. It was just south of Livingstone at the head of Paradise Valley. Olivia felt a surge of emotion as they drove under the wooden archway that led down the drive toward the ranch house. Evelyn parked the truck and turned off the ignition.

“It’s now or never honey.” she prompted quietly. “Everyone should be inside.”

Olivia nodded wordlessly and fingered the strap of her bag nervously. She glanced around the familiar setting as though trying to drink in the sights for a final time before slipping down from the truck and waiting for her mother.

The two approached the front porch and made their way up to the door. Everything seemed like a dream to Olivia. Every sight and sound screamed of familiarity and memories but she knew it was far from the truth.

The door was opened as they approached and Olivia caught sight of her father for the first time in six years. The man looked older but he still had that familiar weatherworn look she always remembered. His dark hair was graying at the temples and he had the same neat mustache on his top lip. It twitched.

“Evelyn, Harry.” he greeted flatly, eying his child with uneasy skepticism.

Olivia hung her head and followed her parents into the family room where her siblings were milling around waiting for the difficult reunion to begin.

Everyone was looking at Olivia. She could feel their gazes burning into her as she stood there awkwardly beside her mother, the only bastion of safety she felt. Her older sister, Sarah, smiled weakly but remained distant, her brother, Mark, wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Let’s sit, shall we?” Evelyn stated in a tone that was far more obviously an order than a request.

Evelyn guided her to a sofa and sat beside her while the rest of her family maintained their distance.

“Why?” Her father asked bluntly. He wasn’t a man of many words at the best of times, she remembered, but he seemed especially curt today as though he was trying to resist the urge to say something different.

Olivia looked at her family and regretted it; directing her gaze to the floor, she began her explanation.

“Growing up was difficult for me, I never fitted in with anyone and I always felt like I was missing something important. I thought I was gay; that it was the great answer to my unhappiness and when I left for college I explored that part of myself… It was okay, I mean, It felt right, I was attracted to boys but there was more to it. I had no reference for how I felt…” she added glancing at each of them in turn.

“I knew how I felt, but I didn’t dare tell anyone here. If I had said a word, I’d have been hurt worse… I already got picked on and bullied like crazy for what they saw of me, they assumed I was gay, a fag, and a sissy. I didn’t know anyone like me, so I assumed that was what it was.”

Evelyn put her hand on Olivia’s back and rubbed gently.

“When I got to college, I was able to explore myself more and talk to other people like me. I got involved in a group at school and then later outside that. That’s, I guess, where I discovered drag and it felt different to me. Other guys wanted to be these silly parodies of women, to prance around and be a big joke but I felt more strongly that I wanted to be more feminine, more like them.” she admitted.

“So this is just some fucking faggot drag shit for you to prance around?” Mark snapped from his place behind the sofa his father and sister occupied. His face was dark.

“Mark.” their mother hissed.

Olivia shook her head. “No, it’s ok, I get how it looks,” she admitted. “No, It’s far more than that. Sure I dated some guys but it never felt right, not really.”

Olivia shook her head and sighed. “I started toning down the stage look for when I was leaving clubs and bars to a more normal girl so that nobody I knew from work would know it was me, that version became a safety net and she felt harder and harder to put away.”

“So you’re just embarrassed to be gay? Is that it?” Sarah asked, only slightly more gently than Mark.

Olivia frowned. “No, I was never embarrassed, but I guess it was what I told myself. I guess I just didn’t want it to end. Then…” she sighed. “I met a guy that was different. He saw me differently and treated me so differently from the others. I wasn’t expected to fill this role for him that I went along with for others and he wanted to see Mia… I mean my character, one day.”

“So a man wants my son to dress up as a woman for him? You’re doing all this because some man wants to hide his gayness?” Her father growled.

Olivia stood and faced her father. “No.” she barked with more force than she had intended. “He made me realize it’s ok to be who I am. That it was ok for me to feel this way, to be a girl. I wanted to be like this because it is me. I am a gir… woman.”

She paced the living room, her fists balled tightly as she attempted to swallow her temper. She looked at her family and saw the judgment they were casting her way. Her heart was breaking, not that she hadn’t expected it. She felt tears beginning to well in her eyes.

“This is who I am, who I always was. I didn’t see it for many years, not that any of you would let me.” she stated flatly. “I never came back here, never called, never told you about the shooting because I hated it here, I didn’t feel loved, or wanted, or safe. You all let me get the shit beaten out of me, you iced me out and claimed it was because you wanted to toughen me up, make a man out of me or find myself.” she snapped with air quotes.

“Guess what, I found myself, and I’m not ashamed of who I am.”

“Nor am I.” her mother offered, standing beside her child.

Olivia took her mother’s hand for strength as she stared at the others. “That scrawny sissy kid you all fucking hated became a cop. That cop spent the last few years helping people and trying to make a difference. I’ve fought more guys than you ever did back in school, Mark.” she added glaring at her older brother. “I got shot six fucking times stopping some asshole from killing a storekeeper and my colleagues. I’ll carry one of those bullets for the rest of my life.” she snapped, lifting her skirt slightly to show two of the angry scars on her right thigh to them. “Is that tough enough for you?”

Her brother rolled his eyes. “Kinda wish he’d killed you.”

Evelyn stormed over to her son and slapped him in the face so hard the big man staggered backward, a look of shock on his face.

“You will never say such things again about your sister you ungrateful, fucking asshole.” she growled coldly.

The family was shocked, Evelyn Dalton didn’t curse. She never cursed. She was a god-fearing rancher’s wife that never hurt a fly. The words cut through the room like a chainsaw.

Sarah approached Olivia cautiously, casting a death stare at her brother as she passed. Sarah Dalton was a tall girl, dwarfing Olivia by a couple of inches. She’d always been so beautiful, Olivia thought, so graceful and perfect. She remembered playing with her sister when she was little; the games and the tea parties. She’d always loved spending time with Sarah and hadn’t put two and two together until that moment as to why.

The older Dalton girl regarded the younger for a moment in silence. She remembered the time spent when they were both younger fondly, but she also remembered how Harry hadn’t really changed. He hadn’t matured as Mark had, or grown to like sports or girls and more manly pursuits. She had gone along with her parents and brother in their ‘hard reality’ approach to toughening him up; she had thought she was helping her little brother become strong. She felt a tear slide down her cheek as she looked at the young woman in front of her. The girl looked both angry and terrified at the same time and her heart melted. She remembered the games, the barrel race tournaments they had acted out with her toy horses, and their make-believe adventures. Harry had always been just another girl in those games, it had seemed so normal.

Sarah was a veterinarian. She worked around horses all day and she recognized that look of fight or flight in her sibling’s eyes, that mixture of anger and panic that was building to a crescendo.

Sarah took the girl into her arms and hugged her fiercely. She felt Olivia stiffen at first before her arms wrapped around her with a grip that never wanted to let go. She cried as she felt regret at her part in what she’d done to her sister.

“This is fucking stupid.” Mark groaned. “Now you’re just going to accept his fucking bullshit and welcome him back?”

Sarah glared at her brother, not taking her arms from around the sobbing girl. “I followed you all, and that was wrong of me. I didn’t think about her feelings and I won’t do it now.” she fired back.

“As Mom said, she nearly died, we nearly lost our sister and I won’t turn her away. If you can’t be a fucking grown-up get out of here.” she snarled.

Mark threw his hands up and stormed out without another word. Their mother called after him but he didn’t turn around. A short while later, they heard a truck engine roar and peel out of the yard.

James Dalton watched the scene before him unfold with a strange sense of detachment. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be a more active part of this conversation, he simply didn’t know how. James was a rancher’s son, and a rancher himself; he knew cattle and he knew horses. Family was always something he’d tried to keep up with but thanked God for his Evelyn. She’d kept them together and made them function as a unit.

He looked at his youngest child, stood there looking so very feminine in his home. They were wrapped in their sister’s arms crying. To all the world, he looked like a girl he admitted to himself. He’d acted like one for sure when he was growing up. James had insisted they let Harry stand on his own feet when the bullying started in middle school. He knew how rough life could be for even the toughest men and he wouldn’t let his name or his children fall victim to it. Mark and Sarah had been strong, they’d known their direction in life and they’d been confident, smart kids. Harry however had never been like them. He was quiet, withdrawn, gentle, and small; James had been disappointed, he realized.

He saw the fire in his child’s eyes when they’d stood up for themselves against their brother and him. He’d seen that passion before, he realized. That determination, that force of will had never been present in the scrawny kid that had disappointed him so. James Dalton didn’t do emotion; he was a man’s man. He didn’t see that passion until he’d met his Evelyn so many years ago.

Looking now at the scene before him, he recognized that fire in his wife and daughter, and he saw it now in his youngest child too, he realized.

The Dalton girls had always been passionate creatures. They were strong in ways he could never be, and they were full of life and love. They were the glue that held this family together and they made him a better man for it.

Olivia pulled away from her sister, smiling weakly through her tears as she wiped her eyes, her makeup a mess. Her mind was in turmoil as she processed what had happened. She glanced over at her father, still sitting in the armchair, his expression an unreadable mask. She separated herself from Sarah and approached him slowly, her mind racing as she tried to read the stoic patriarch. She knelt beside the chair and placed her hand on his arm.

“Dad.”

James Dalton looked away and set his jaw. He couldn’t look at that expression. It was too familiar. That look of desperate hope would break him, he knew.

Olivia sat patiently, watching her father. She wished she knew what was going through his head but he was impossible to read.

“Dad, you wanted me to toughen up and be strong, you wanted me to be confident and independent. I know this isn’t how you expected it to turn out, but I finally found those things in myself. I’m not ashamed, but I am sorry.”

James Dalton looked at his youngest child. Her face was a mess of streaked makeup from her tears but her expression was one of quiet resolve. He didn’t see that runt of a kid inside the woman sitting there, pleading for his approval. He saw his Evie when she was younger. He saw Sarah. He now saw Olivia.

“Never apologize for who you are.” he said quietly, his stoic tone cracking slightly. He grimaced, fighting an unfamiliar and unwanted feeling that was creeping in. “I never raised you to be sorry for who you are, I raised you as a Dalton… I… My god, you’re so much like your mother.”

“Dad.” Olivia begged, her tears flowing again. “I’m not sorry for who I am, I’m sorry I wasn’t the son you wanted.”

That broke James Dalton. The iron man felt wetness in his eyes for the first time since the birth of his children. He stood without a word and took his daughter into his arms and hugged her tightly to his chest.

“God, you Dalton girls will be the death of me.” he sighed as his wife and eldest joined the embrace.

Olivia sat out on the porch of the ranch house watching the world pass by. The last two hours had been some of the most exhausting in her life. She had never hoped for acceptance, even after her mother had come to her side. Dreamed, perhaps, but she had never hoped. That only her brother Mark had rejected her was an incredible outcome. Mark… They had never seen eye to eye she knew, but she had hoped there might be a chance.

She heard a board creak behind her and her sister came into view. Sarah sat down beside her on the step and handed her a steaming cup of tea.

“Rough afternoon,” she observed without really looking over at her.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Olivia admitted, accepting the cup.

“You look good.”

Olivia smiled. “Thanks, shoulda seen me hobbling around the first month on crutches, it was bad.”

Sarah glanced at her sister and winced. “How bad? Like, no bullshit, tell me the truth.”

Olivia was quiet for a moment as she sipped the herbal tea. “I died twice.”

Sarah stopped and stared. “You died?”

“On the operating table, they obviously got me back.” Olivia chuckled darkly.

“What all happened? Medically, I mean?”

“Shattered femur from one bullet, one embedded in the right, two through and through flesh wounds, one ruptured my femoral artery, and the last one fragmented and shredded my testicles.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Sarah whistled. “I’m surprised you’re here.”

“Me too, it’s been rough.”

“That you thought you couldn’t talk to us,” Sarah said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“The one that ruined my genitals is why I ended up making the decision in the end,” Olivia admitted. “They were preparing to give me testosterone shots for the rest of my life and I couldn’t do it.”

“I can’t begin to imagine how you handled all of this,” Sarah admitted. “All your life, all of this, and having to face us too.”

Olivia stared out at the vast expanse of Montana in front of the house. “Richard,” she said simply.

“Richard?” her sister asked with a curious expression before realization hit her. “That’s the man you met, isn’t it? Tell me about him?”

“He’s sweet and caring and so utterly gorgeous, he makes me feel so damn special whenever I’m with him.”

“He sounds wonderful.”

“I love him,” Olivia admitted, facing her sister. “With all my heart.”

“Where is he now?”

“Still up in Bozeman.”

“Shit… he came home with you to face all this? That’s a man.” Sarah chuckled.

“I asked him to stay there today while I came here, I didn’t want to overload you guys or let him see or hear any of the horrible things I expected.”

Sarah put her arm around Olivia and hugged her to her side. “I’d love to meet the guy that stole my baby sister’s heart,” she said softly. “How long are you guys here?”

“End of the week,” Olivia said, resting her head on her sister’s shoulder. “I can’t tell you how nice this is.”

“Let’s go give Mom and Dad some space,” Sarah announced standing. “I’ll drive us into Bozeman and we can get dinner then I can meet this handsome guy.”

Saying their goodbyes to their parents, the two women climbed into Sarah’s SUV and headed for the city. The drive from the ranch was a lot more comfortable for Olivia. The worst of her fears now behind her, she was able to relax.

Sarah had gone into practice as a veterinarian with an old school friend and their business was doing well. She’d married her high school sweetheart who was now in the auction business. Overall, her life was going well. Olivia was happy for her sister. She knew they weren’t likely to be braiding each other’s hair any time soon, but she could feel their once-strong bond beginning to repair. It would take time, she realized, but there was hope for it yet.

Sarah parked in the lot at the Copper | Whiskey Bar & Grill, just off Main Street in Bozeman and the pair headed inside. According to Sarah, the Copper was one of the best places to get barbeque in the entire city and Olivia ought to re-immerse herself in the country lifestyle after her time away from home. Inside, soft country music was playing on the sound system and it was bustling with the late lunch crowd.

Olivia hadn’t been able to spend time in bars in Montana before she left. Not only had she been too young, but she had no friends that would even attempt the teen tradition of sneaking in. The atmosphere was casual and light-hearted and the bar’s wood panel interior gave it an old-time aesthetic that really felt timeless.

“They have nothing like this back in LA. They have attempted copies of country style, but not like this.” Olivia nodded appreciatively. “It really does feel good to be back, you know.”

Sarah grinned and waved to the barman so that they could order. “You can’t take Montana out of someone, no matter where they go.”

The two women were able to order drinks and grabbed a menu before heading to find a table somewhere out of the flow of customers.

“Sarah Dalton? As I live and breathe.” A voice called from behind Olivia. “Girl, you don’t hang out no more.”

A group of four men had made their way over from one of the pool tables. All four were dressed in various plaids and jeans, they looked like ranch hands.

“They work at the J,” Sarah explained, referencing one of the neighboring ranches.

The men seemed to be tipping the scale between tipsy and drunk. One of them, that looked slightly drunker than the others, leered disgustingly at Olivia.

“What’s your name, honey.” he slurred. “I ain’t seen you around before.”

“You seem a bit drunk, buddy,” Olivia replied flatly. “Probably time to head home.”

“Aw, sweetie I’m good, just gettin’ warmed up.” The man chuckled.

Sarah’s expression seemed a little pained as she glanced between the guys. Olivia sensed she’d read their intoxication the same way she had.

“You boys should head back to the ranch before you end up getting busted and Mr. Cane has to come to bail your sorry asses out.” she pointed out sternly.

The big drunk ran his fingers over Olivia’s cheek and she flinched and batted away his arm.

“Get off me.”

Mr. Sloshed put his hand on Olivia’s butt and squeezed. “Come on darlin’, come play a round with us, we’ll teach ya.”

Olivia gripped the man’s hand and twisted as she stood putting it behind his back. “No touching buddy.”

The man yelped and tried to resist, only making the pain of the hold worse and yelped louder.

The other three stepped forward as though they were about to get involved until Sarah stood up and glared at them. “Hands off her, She’s a Dalton, boys. No means no.”

“You don’t got a sister.” one of the men countered. “Just two brothers.”

The other stared at Olivia for a moment, his alcohol-addled brain processing images. “She looks a lot like her faggot brother from a ways back.”

The last man appeared to be the least drunk and he made the connection fastest of all of the group. “That’s Harry Dalton guys! Holy shit he gone had his dick cut off after all.”

Olivia’s mind raced, this was going downhill extremely quickly and she was out of her depth. She’d reacted like she was back home working and had no backup and her sister in proximity. These guys were big and far stronger than she was, she needed help fast.

Her moment of distraction was enough for the man she had in an arm lock to twist his hand free and lash backward with his elbow. The impact connected with Olivia’s cheek and sent her reeling, releasing his hand entirely.

Scrambling away over the floor she stood as quickly as possible and hunched forward in a fighting stance, her hand went for a baton that didn’t exist. She cursed herself as the man approached and threw a wild, well-telegraphed punch that missed entirely as she ducked underneath it. She countered with an uppercut and stepped through his haymaker.

Olivia’s heart hammered as she tried to maintain her space while the man attempted to strike her. She kept moving as quickly as possible and tried to use the man’s momentum against him. She couldn’t beat him in power so she had to use what she had; speed. Her injuries were almost healed, but she was far from peak condition and she was beginning to feel it. This couldn’t be a prolonged fight or she’d be dead. Making her mind up, she sidestepped a charge and kicked sharply at the side of the man’s knee as he blundered past using a dirty street trick.

She heard a loud crack and the man wailed and collapsed to the ground, his busted knee unable to support his weight.

She turned to face the others and felt a pang of fear as she saw two of them holding Sarah in their grasp as she struggled to get free. Sarah’s lip was bleeding and she was cursing up a storm.

Olivia didn’t hesitate, she reached behind her shirt and pulled her pistol from the holster inside her waistband, and pointed it at the forehead of the ringleader. “Let her go.” she growled.

The man’s eyes went wide and he dropped Sarah’s arm and threw his hands up. Sarah wasted no time in elbowing the moron in the groin. Before long, she was separated and rushed over to stand beside Olivia.

“Not one of you fucking move, you understand me?” Olivia ordered moving the barrel of the pistol between the men.

“Sarah, go tell the barman to call the cops.”

The older woman wiped the blood from her lip and stalked over to the bar. The barman already appeared to be dialing before she reached him.

Olivia reached down to her bag without taking her gun off the men and reached in for her badge.

She waved it around at the already assembled crowd of onlookers. “Deputy Sheriff.”

“You what?” the ringleader balked. “You ain’t.”

“Test me please.” she snarled, her temper blazing. “You aren’t faster than a bullet and with the three of you lugs it will be an easy case of self-defense.”

The men didn’t test her.

A few tense moments later, she heard sirens wailing outside the bar and several local officers came streaming into the bar. Waving her badge in their direction she pointed at the three standing and their writhing compatriot.

“These idiots assaulted my sister and I.”

“We got it from here ma’am.” the first to reach her nodded. “Turn around fellers.”

Olivia was dimly aware of a few of the crowd of patrons clapping as she finally relaxed. The four amigos were detained by the local cops and the girls were led outside to the street. An ambulance had to be called for Mr. Sloshed who had yet to stop yelling about his shattered knee.
The girls were kept to one side while the officers handled cleaning up the mess inside the bar.

An officer stood with them until their supervisor arrived a few moments later. The older man wore sergeant’s stripes and looked to be in his late forties. The man looked like any sergeant she knew; mildly annoyed to be there and already done with all of it.

The man relieved the officer stood with them and pulled out his notepad.

“Who you with?” he asked, gesturing at the badge she’d clipped to her shirt.

“Deputy Dalton Sir, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department, I’m home visiting family,” Olivia explained.

“Those were some big dudes, you messed that big one up on your own?” he asked uncertainly.

“She did.” Sarah grinned past the gauze she was holding to her lip. “My sister is a badass.”

“Used his weight against him, sir. He wasn’t difficult to handle. I can’t use power to stop guys so I have to be quicker.” Olivia explained.

“Mighty impressive.” the sergeant agreed. “Pity you don’t work with us. Real firecracker if you don’t mind me saying.”

The man paused for a moment and cocked his head to one side. “Dalton?”

Olivia groaned internally. It was going to be one of those days.

“Yes sir.”

“Nothing.” the Sergeant shrugged. “I think I got my memory mixed up. You are sure you’re ok, aren’t you?” he added as he noticed Olivia massaging her thigh.

“She got shot in the line of duty a few months ago,” Sarah interjected. “Six times saving a man’s life.”

The Sergeant turned to Olivia with a look of shock. “Ma’am, is that true?”

Olivia nodded slightly. “Yeah, I can feel that’s going to be a story she keeps telling.”

“Oh, and this one too now,” Sarah added with a chuckle. “My kid sister just took down four of the J’s hands on her own.”

The Sergeant stuck his hand out to shake Olivia’s. “If you ever move home, give me a ring and I’ll put a word in for you with our Chief, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. No promises though.”

One of the idiots was yelling as they stuffed him into a cruiser. “That tranny bitch should be locked up. He came on to me!” The two officers handling him stuffed him into the car regardless.

The Sergeant glanced in the direction of the car then back at Olivia and raised his eyebrows. “Maybe I was thinking about the right Dalton earlier after all”

Olivia sighed. “Yes sir.”

The man grinned and patted Olivia’s shoulder. “My eldest girl’s gay, I don’t give a good goddamn. You be you, honey.”

Olivia smiled at the man and held her sister’s hand. “Thanks, I didn’t want a scene.”

“Y’all caused one,” the older sergeant chuckled. “Man I’m totally telling Heather about this, she’ll think it’s a hoot.”

The Sergeant thanked them both and left to coordinate his officers.

After statements and identities were confirmed, Olivia and Sarah were released by the Bozeman PD and decided that lunch really hadn’t been that important after all. Sarah had left to return back to the ranch to tell their parents, much to Olivia’s protests, and made her promise to come back home for dinner the next evening.

Olivia made the short walk back to the hotel to join Richard. Her day had been far more eventful than she had planned but strangely, she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“You did what?” Richard had gawked.

Richard had nearly lost it when he’d seen her bruised cheek. She’d called him from the ranch earlier in the day so he knew it hadn’t been her family that left the mark, but seeing her limping slightly and looking worse for wear had worried him greatly.

“Yeah,” Olivia stretched out her aching thighs against the bed. “My sister and I won a bar fight.”

“How?”

“Four drunk idiots are all muscle and no brain.” Olivia chuckled before going on to explain the events at the bar that afternoon.

Richard laughed and shook his head. “This place is the wild damn west.”

“Sure is sugar.” Olivia purred, climbing onto his lap with a look in her eye. “Come tell momma how awesome she is.”

Richard pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. He could feel her body melting into him as they sat there entwined on the edge of the bed. Olivia moaned softly into their kiss and pushed him back onto the bed. She pulled her top over her head and leaned down to kiss him again. Richard grabbed her bottom as they kissed and felt her grind against him. He reached up and unsnapped her bra before allowing her to shrug out of it and toss it aside.

Olivia gasped when he found her breasts and began to knead them gently. “I love you.” she whispered into his ear as she tugged at his waistband.

A short while later, Olivia rolled off Richard and lay panting in the bed.

“What the hell was that?” Richard asked, looking over at her. “That was new, not that I’m complaining.”

Olivia shrugged and giggled. “I don’t know. I just felt like being in charge for once.”

“You can do that anytime you want.”

“I guess I’ve had such a stressful day reacting to everyone’s crap and then the fight, I had so much pent-up energy.”

Olivia realized she had very much taken charge of their lovemaking. It wasn’t something she’d ever done before and it felt exhilarating. Richard made her feel wonderful and she’d felt such a strong desire for him at that moment she had gone with her emotions.

“I think you need to get in fights more often.” he grinned.

Olivia rolled over and looked at the man seriously. “Today has been more than I hoped and worse than I expected, but I think it might work out in the end and that scares me.”

“I get it.” Richard agreed, running his hand along her naked leg. “Your Mom accepted you and now you have most of them over to your side, it’s like you have something to lose now.”

“Yeah,” she admitted, snuggling into his hand. “Sarah thinks I’m kinda awesome now.”

“You are.” Richard smiled and kissed her deeply.

The couple spent the evening in bed together with only a break to order room service. She had giggled at the knowing look the bellhop had given them when he arrived with their food. Olivia felt more liberated than she had in her entire life. Here she was in her homeland with the love of her life and she had so little still standing in her way now. The future finally seemed bright and full of potential. She knew the road would be rocky, but she was no longer alone in traveling along it.

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Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

The next day, the couple spent the day in Bozeman as Olivia showed Richard the sights of her home. The city was where she’d gone to school and spent most of her time growing up when not on the ranch. He could tell a lot of the place held bad memories for her but was thankful that she was willing to share this part of her life with him. The weight of the past was beginning to lift, he could see. She was smiling now, which was an improvement. The culture here was so dramatically at odds with the California pace he was so used to but he could grow to like the laid-back lifestyle.

With plans to travel to Olivia’s parent's home for dinner that evening, the couple returned to the hotel to change before making the hour-long drive over to the ranch. Richard was nervous for one of the first times in his life. Very few things rattled the man. He was able to take to the floor of the courtroom and do battle with some of the sharpest legal minds and he’d even faced down mobsters. Somehow, the prospect of meeting his girlfriend’s family scared him. He wasn’t sure if it was the fragile nature of their relationship or the thought that her father might bury him in the mountains if he disapproved.

Olivia pulled her truck into the ranch yard a little before six that evening and parked in front of the house.

“Ready?” she asked, turning to Richard.

“You?” he countered, climbing down from the truck.

“You’re the one meeting my family and you’re the city boy.”

Taking his hand, Olivia made her way up to the front door and hesitated for a moment before opening the door. She was apprehensive to return, but she was confident that she could handle things with him beside her. Sarah and her mother were firmly on her side she knew and the rest would come in time. Her biggest concern was how her father would take to Richard’s part in all of this. After all, wasn’t a father meant to disapprove of his daughter’s boyfriends? She wasn’t sure how that applied in her case, however.

Opening the door, she stepped out of the sunlight into the darker interior of the house.

“Hello?” she called.

“This is stunning,” Richard observed, glancing around the wood and stone interior of the home.

Nobody was visible so she led him further into the house and entered the family room. Her father was standing in front of the desk reviewing a sheaf of papers. He turned as she entered.

“Your mother and sister are in the kitchen,” he stated with a tone that suggested she leave him with Richard.

“Dad?” Olivia asked hesitantly.

Her father shook his head and pointed to the hallway with a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in his hand. “Off you go.”

Olivia looked up at Richard and squeezed his hand. He shrugged imperceptibly and nodded. Making her way back out towards the corridor, Olivia glanced back at the scene of two bulls facing off against one another and grimaced. This was either going to go well or be a massacre, but she knew better than to argue.

The scent of food led her through to the kitchen, a place she had spent so many hours as a kid. Her mother and sister were chatting with the housekeeper as they worked.

“Hi,” she called, hesitating at the doorway.

Sarah smiled as she saw her and welcomed her in. “Dad working over Richard?”

Olivia nodded before glancing nervously at Mrs. Swiftwater, the housekeeper, uncertain of what she knew.

Hellen Swiftwater had always been their housekeeper for as long as Olivia could remember. Her father had worked for her grandfather and both her sons were hands on the ranch. The native woman and her boys were essentially part of the family at this point.

The lady approached her and held out her arms to Olivia’s sides and appraised her carefully.
She nodded her approval and hugged the girl. “Welcome home Miss Dalton.”

“Olivia,” she corrected.

Mrs. Swiftwater shook her head and continued, she’d never called any of the family by their first names on principle except when they were little. “It’s good to see you and I’m very happy to see you finally.”

Olivia inclined her head, “Finally?”

“I was explaining to your mother and sister how my people see the two-spirited in my culture, and that when you were small I could see you were different from the other boys. There are many terms for it but I think the closest is iskwéw ka-napéwayat, meaning "woman who dressed as a man.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows and said nothing.

“Things vary of course, but we are not as narrow-minded as you white people.”

“So you’re ok with this?” Olivia asked cautiously, uncertain as to where she stood.

Mrs. Swiftwater nodded and smiled. “Of course dear, I am happy to finally see you.”

“What was this I heard about my daughters getting into a bar fight?” Evelyn asked casually, changing the subject while she prepared a dish.

“We weren’t looking for trouble, but a guy wouldn’t stop touching me.” Olivia explained.

“And you kicked their asses,” Sarah added happily. “Mom, you should have been there.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes, “I think I can imagine more than enough thank you dear.”

“It was so awesome! We’re duking it out and she broke this guy’s knee and pulled her badge and gun, it was like a movie scene,” Sarah gushed. “I’m so proud of you.”

“It was that or get my ass groped,” Olivia complained, “He wouldn’t get off me so I put him in a hold then it all went downhill,” she explained, hoping her mother wouldn’t think she had started it.

Evelyn smiled, “And you never should darling. No man has the right to touch you if you don’t want him to. I just worry about both of you girls but especially you darling,” she added looking specifically at Olivia.

“I’m a cop, Mom, It’s not my first fight.”

“I’m your mother, I’m allowed to worry.”

Mrs. Swiftwater bustled past with a tray of roast potatoes, “There was a princess of the Ojibwe people named Ashwiyaa, ‘She who Arms Herself’, she was a full warrior within her clan, I think she and you have much in common.”

Olivia smiled, Mrs. Swiftwater had always had stories and analogies from her culture she would rattle off at a moment’s notice. She had always seen it as her duty to ensure the Dalton children understood the native peoples of the area and the significance of their world.

Olivia knew what her people had done to the Native Americans and had always felt a deep regret. She loved Mrs. Swiftwater’s stories.

“Think Dad’s killed Richard yet?” Sarah quipped.

Olivia shot her a look as she began helping with the food.

“Don’t be silly,” their mother chided. “He’s a lovely man, Olivia, he’ll be fine.”

Olivia was still worried. She knew what her father could be like and she’d seen him with Sarah’s high school boyfriends. She was also painfully aware that her daughter's status was still extremely new in her father’s mind.

Once they had finished preparations, Olivia and Sarah were sent through to get the men for dinner. Olivia hoped she’d still have a boyfriend once they got there. Entering the family room, she was greeted by a sight she didn’t expect.

Her father and Richard were sitting opposite of one another laughing at something, glasses of whiskey in their hands.

“He gets whiskey?” Sarah balked, “Really?”

James Dalton rolled his eyes. “It’s my whiskey, I can give it to whoever I want in my own damn house.”

“You practically lynched my boyfriends! What gives?”

“See what I have to deal with?” he directed at Richard.

“So this looks cozy,” Olivia observed, crossing her arms. “No blood?”

“No honey,” Richard reassured her. “Your father was telling me about some legal silliness he had with the Forestry Service.”

James Dalton nodded and gestured to Richard, “Keep this one.”

Olivia sighed. “Oh, thanks, Dad. I’ll maintain my relationship so you can have free legal advice.”

Her father threw his hands up and feigned surrender. “Yeah, you really are my damn daughter.” he chuckled.

Dinner was a pleasant but slightly awkward affair as her mother and sister grilled Richard relentlessly. Olivia felt a great peace eating at the table with her family. At first, things were a little stilted as they all adjusted to her on a more personal level, but she was beginning to feel them warm toward her. This was the family she had longed for her entire life. The past couldn’t be forgotten, but she did understand. It was going to be a long road, but she could feel a greater warmth already. The only black stain was Mark’s empty chair across from her.

Her brother… Olivia had never been particularly close to Mark, but she had looked up to him when she was younger. He was what she was supposed to be and she had tried, or at least felt as though she had to. They had never spent a lot of time together and it had been difficult. He never took part in the bullying, but he had also never attempted to stop it. She hoped she could at least speak to him before she left, but she got the impression he was keeping his distance now he was outnumbered.

She was glad to see Richard accepted by her family. Her father had concerned her the most, but it seemed as though the old man could see at least a little of what she saw in her man. They were from different worlds, but she recognized the same sense of honor and correctness that drove Richard to be close to her father’s heart.

“When are you back at work?” her mother asked as they were eating dessert.

Olivia wasn’t sure, “A few weeks maybe, as long as I pass my medical.”

“I don’t know how I feel about you being a police officer in such a dangerous place.” her father frowned. “You’re so far away from here and now I have to worry about a daughter.”

“Dad, I’m fine, I’m good at my job.”

“So I heard last night,” he observed with a pointed look. “You know I had Mr. Cane on the phone this morning with a skunk up his ass about four of his boys in jail.”

“That wasn’t my fault, we didn’t start it.” Olivia protested.

“She sure as hell finished it.” Sarah grinned.

James Dalton shook his head and his lip quirked upward. “Why’d you have to go and be more of a handful than Sarah?”

“Nobody lays a finger on my daughters.” her mother stated firmly. “I’m sure nobody is going to go near them now.”

“Well that’s just boring,” Sarah grinned.

“You’re married,” her father added, frowning.

“So what? They can look,” she shrugged.

Olivia and Richard were forbidden from returning to Bozeman that evening and put up in one of the guest bedrooms at the house. Her mother had given Richard strict instructions to return the next day and gather their luggage so that they might stay at the ranch for the remainder of their visit.

Olivia had considered using her old room but rejected the idea of returning to a place that still held great pain for her. She had cried herself to sleep too many nights in that room to ever want to sleep in it again. That, and the bed was far too small for two people.

Sarah had lent her a nightgown and she climbed into the bed beside Richard and snuggled up against him under the covers. Olivia closed her eyes and sighed. She had never imagined this moment in her entire life. Here she was, in her family home in bed with the man she loved. Her family knew her and loved her, and more importantly, they seemed to like him too. She could feel the stress of years leaving her soul and it felt serene.

Richard slid his hand up her thigh and under the edge of her nightgown. Olivia slapped his hand away and wagged a finger.

“Not tonight,” she chided. “My father will literally bury you in the woods.”

“Daddy’s little girl.” Richard chuckled and hugged her close as they drifted off to sleep.

Olivia woke abruptly the next morning and it took her a moment to remember where she was. Above her, the timbers of the roof were a familiar sight she had seen her entire childhood. Light streamed past the curtains bringing with it the sounds of the morning on the ranch. As she lay there on the bed, she felt her heart rate begin to settle back to normal as she glanced around the room.

She wasn’t sure if it was a nightmare or a near-waking moment where she had still been Harry and six years had not passed. She knew it wasn’t real but the feeling had been horrible.

She could feel the heat of Richard’s body next to hers and she smiled softly as she ran her fingers down the curve of his spine under the covers. No, she wasn’t Harry anymore.

Slipping from under the covers, she wrapped a dressing gown around her body and quietly left the room. Reaching the landing, she could hear voices downstairs. The voices sounded like her parents.

Settling down next to the mezzanine banister, Olivia strained to hear the conversation, unsure whether she should interrupt.

“I just don’t know Evie, it’s a lot to digest.” she heard her father say.

“James, It’s her, him… her, I can’t not love my child.”

“Did we do this? Was it our fault?”

“I don’t think so, I think we pushed her away. I never saw this coming.”

“It’s all so damn much Evie, h… she’s so much like you it hurts to see it. I feel like my son’s dead.”

Olivia couldn’t stand by any longer as she listened. She stood and began to descend the stairs. She heard the conversation stop as the boards creaked beneath her feet. Looking across at her parents on one of the sofas she smiled weakly. “Good morning.”

“Morning dear,” her mother smiled guiltily.

“I heard you guys, no need to pretend,” Olivia explained. “I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.”

Olivia slumped into one of the armchairs and folded her legs underneath herself. “I just want to be happy. I didn’t choose this road, it’s not easy and it’s something I wish I didn’t have to do. The truth is, it’s this or…” Olivia swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“Honey, It’s not going to be easy.” her father began with a sigh. “It’s a lot of adjustment for me and it won’t be easy but I will try. I just feel responsible somehow.”

Olivia moved over to sit beside her father. She felt him tense up first before relaxing and putting his arm carefully on her shoulder. It wasn’t a hug, but it was close enough.

“Dad, this wasn’t your fault,” she pleaded, looking up at the man beside her. “This is always who I was. It took me some time to see it, and I won’t lie, things were really bad in high school, but I’m just glad we have this chance now to do things right.”

Her father pulled her to his side and rested his chin on her head. “I know, me too,” he admitted sadly. “Just do me a favor, ok?”

“What?”

“Don’t go pulling that daddy shit Sarah still uses on me when she wants something, ok?”

“No promises,” Olivia giggled.

“Go take her up to the lake.” her mother suggested getting up and heading for the kitchen. “You two need to get to know each other again.”

“I have work to do,” James protested. “And I’m sure… She’d rather spend time with her gentleman.”

“Bullcrap, the hands have it under control for a few hours, the ranch won’t burn down.”

“No Dad, it’s a good idea.” Olivia agreed, “I can see Richard any time I want, but I want to spend some time with you if you’ll let me?”

“I guess it’s decided for me then.” her father huffed. “Go get changed, I’ll go saddle the horses.”

Olivia made her way back upstairs and knocked lightly on her sister’s door. “Sarah? You awake?”

There was no answer so she knocked again. “Sarah?”

There was a mutter inside. “Mmmfh… come in.”

Olivia opened the door cautiously and slid inside, Sarah was face down in the bed, a halo of her blonde hair fanned out in physically impossible directions.

“What.”

“I need to borrow some clothes.”

“I swear I never thought I’d hear the words in my fucking life.” she muttered rolling over and blinking. “Why?”

“I’m going up to the lake with Dad, I don’t think a skirt and a top will cut it.”

“Go for it, but I’m not helping you with your makeup.”

Olivia made her way to the wardrobe and began to rifle through the sections, “Nah I’m good, I’m better than you anyway.”

“Cheeky bitch.” Sarah scoffed, lobbing a pillow at her sister.

Olivia made her way down to the stables as memories of home flooded back. She wore a pair of her sister's jeans with the cuffs rolled up and one of her flannel shirts and a quilted vest. Her boots were still good and she’d borrowed a hat. She felt suitably attired for the day.

Richard had just risen when she left, but she’d left him in her mother’s capable hands, which might be unfortunate for him, she considered. Her father was just finishing tacking up two horses when she reached the long stable building down by the barns.

“Hey.”

Her father looked round, “Ev… Oh.” he shook his head. “You really are the spitting image of your mother when she was your age.”

“Sorry,” Olivia offered meekly, taking the reins of a piebald mare her father offered her. “I know it can’t be easy.”

James Dalton shook his head and sighed, “I want to have more problems with it,” he admitted, but I can’t be mad looking at that face.”

Olivia watched several hands working one of the corals. Her expression must have betrayed the question on her mind because her father chuckled as he mounted his horse. “Oh, they already know. You think a story about four of the J’s guys getting their asses kicked by a Dalton girl doesn’t make the rounds like a brushfire?”

Olivia shrugged. “I figured it wouldn’t take long.”

“They can keep their mouths shut if they have anything bad to say or they don’t work here.” Her father replied tersely. “I might not fully understand it but you’re still my kid.”

The pair rode out over the east pasture and upwards into the foothills of the Absaroka Range. Olivia had missed the feeling of being so extremely cut off from the modern world. Up here, it was just you, your horse, and the wilderness. She rode with her father for an hour mostly in silence. It wasn’t that they didn’t have things to talk about, but rather that silence was a luxury they both enjoyed.

As they entered the tree line and the gradient began to steepen they slowed to a walk and he pulled up alongside her horse.

“Explain this to me in words I can understand.”

“Long or short?”

“Long, we have time.”

Olivia began at her earliest memories and started her explanation. She didn’t spare a detail and took her father through how her life had felt to her.

“End of the day, I don’t want to be a girl, this isn’t some fantasy I’m trying to reenact. Up here,” she tapped her hat. “Up here, I am. The rest just needed to catch up.”

She ducked to avoid a low branch and continued. “How do you know you like Mom?”

Her father was silent for a moment. “I just do. The first time I saw her, she took my breath away. I knew that I’d marry that girl one day and spend the rest of my days with her.”

“How do you know you hate Brussels Sprouts? You’ve never eaten one, right?”

Her father screwed his face up, making her laugh. “The smell, texture, they look wrong. It’s irrational.”

“That’s how I feel. Up in my head, I knew one thing with total certainty, and my body was the sprout.”

Her father chuckled. “Ok, I can understand that I think.”

“I’m sorry,” he said after a pause. “I’m sorry I was such a hardass to you growing up. It’s how my father was with me, and it worked on Mark, I thought you just needed more of it. I convinced myself it would take time. By the point your mother and I realized it wasn’t, you were barely speaking to us anymore.”

“I felt like I was alone with everyone against me. Even the people that were meant to love me,” Olivia admitted. “It took me years to realize you and Mom are just people. People make mistakes. None of us have all the answers.”

Her father looked at her sideways. “When did you become so wise?”

Olivia laughed. “I’m a cop dad, you get the real 411 on life on a weekend night shift.”

Her father smiled. “We’re here,” he announced as they crested a ridge into a forest clearing three or four hundred feet across. The clearing held a lake of cerulean blue water, surrounded on all sides by a rocky bank. There was a creek flowing into one end causing the only disturbance to its flawless surface.

“Wow,” Olivia breathed as she crested the rise herself.

“This is where I proposed to your mother.” Her father explained. “I took her up here for a picnic and I popped the question.”

“I can see why,” Olivia agreed. “It’s beautiful.”

Her father dismounted and tied off his horse to a nearby branch and walked over the lake’s edge before crouching down to pick up a flat rock from the shingle by the water’s edge. She watched as he flicked the rock out over the water, watching it skip several times before sinking thirty feet away.

It was such a childlike thing to do, and it seemed quite unlike her father to simply do something for the sake of doing it. He was a practical man and always had been. James Dalton didn’t do something unless it was worth doing. To see him simply skip a rock on a lake because he wanted to seemed incongruous.

“When your sister turned eighteen, I brought her up here to share this place that was so special to your Mom and I. I spoke to her about her hopes and dreams and who she wanted to be in this world. I wanted to understand the young woman that was going to leave my nest and head out into the world and make my peace with her no longer being my little girl.”

“That’s not a side of you I’d have expected,” Olivia observed, joining him on the shoreline.

Her father grinned, his eyes still tracing the far shoreline of the lake. “It was your mother’s idea of course.”

Olivia nodded. She could see it being her Mom’s idea, but she was silently honored that he’d brought her here. Their parents never spoke in much depth about their courtship or how they’d lived before Mark was born.

Her father gave her a look. It wasn’t judgemental or disappointed, but instead analytical. His eyes seemed to flicker across her face and body as if taking her in for the first time. “I know what you are or at least I think I do, but I don’t know who you are.”

“I’m your child,” Olivia answered uncertainly.

Her father shook his head, “You’re my daughter.” he stated flatly. “Who are you?”

Olivia settled down onto the rocky shore. Her legs were stiff from the time in the saddle. She pondered the question, unsure as to who she actually was. It’s a question everyone considers, but never truly answers about themselves. Life and ego have a way of making people think the best of themselves; the potential and the possibility. They go through their existence thinking about who they want to be, and what they want to do, rarely stopping to ask, who they are in the moment.

“I’m a cop.” she said quietly. “I became a cop because I wanted to protect people from the assholes of the world. When I was younger, and the cops got involved after some of the ass-kickings I took, they never cared much. I wanted to be able to be there for just one kid like me or one person in the worst place in their life. I want to be the justice I would have wanted.”

Her father’s expression was hard to read as he looked out over the water. Olivia thought for a moment. That wasn’t the question entirely. She wondered for a moment exactly who Olivia Dalton was, what parts of Harry remained, and what parts of Mia she had adopted and made her own.

“I want to tell you a story,” she started more surely, flicking her own rock across the lake’s glassy surface. “A while back, I was involved in a domestic kidnapping. This gay couple had a major argument. The boyfriend wanted to go back to his wife and when the cops showed up, one of them panicked and pulled a gun on his boyfriend. It went how you’d expect, they fled the scene eventually crashing the car. We ended up in this standoff up on this mountain bridge just north of the city. The guy was surrounded, his partner was terrified and we called up a negotiator. The guy was good, sure, but he followed the usual template we have for that stuff. I was working with this training officer at the time, a guy called Parker, we’d been sent around this gulch and up to a spot beside them to cover in case anything went wrong. The guy started to tell the negotiator he didn’t understand him, or his situation. How could he? He was straight? It didn’t matter that love is love, he just got so wrapped up in that technicality that he was stuck there.”

She paused to see if her father was following her and realized the man was paying her rapt attention.

“They called over the radio to see if anyone on the scene could identify with the guy. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t stop myself from volunteering. I went up there and I poured my heart out to this guy. I told him about my childhood, my pain, and my sense of loss. I told him I understood him, that I saw him, and that he wasn’t alone. I stood there in front of all of my colleagues and I opened my soul to this guy. He wasn’t a bad person, just in a shitty situation.” she admitted.

“What happened?” her father asked quietly.

“He gave up. He gave us the gun, let the guy go, and came quietly. It was the first time my colleagues looked at me with respect rather than distrust.” she admitted. “I think it was the first time I was truly honest with myself about how I’d felt, and I was no longer that skinny little gay guy they worked with, someone to mistrust or feel strange around. They saw the honesty and my desire to help.”

Her father smiled. “That sounds like something your Mom would do, put herself out there for other people, regardless of what it would cost her.”

Olivia nodded. “Who am I? I don’t know Dad. I’m figuring that out. Part of me is the kid you knew growing up, but no kid stays that way forever. They become an adult and they learn more about themselves. They understand who they are and what they want to do with their life. Part of me is always going to be that miserable kid, part of me is the cop that wants to help. Part of me is even the brash confident comedian that goes out on stage and makes people laugh. Who am I?” Olivia gave a sardonic laugh. “I’m just a girl trying to keep up with the world.”

Her father looked at her for a moment, there were no words exchanged between the two of them but she could see understanding in his eyes finally.

“I guess it took you being honest with yourself to finally find that strength I always prayed you’d find,” he admitted. “When I heard about that business up at the Copper the other night, I was angry and afraid for you, but now I see Harry wouldn’t have ever stood up to that. But Olivia would.”

“So I’m two people?”

He shook his head, “No, just one now.” as he kissed her forehead.

Forgiveness was a strange word and an even stranger feeling. Olivia couldn’t forget what she had experienced growing up as it had, in a way, made her who she was today. Without her suffering at the hands of others; she wouldn’t be a cop and she wouldn’t have experienced any of the things she had to date. Would she have left Montana or met Richard? Would she have found herself or been so badly hurt?

She couldn’t predict alternate paths in her life, but she could forgive her parents. Her own struggle helped her to realize they were only human. People were fallible and weak to their own prejudice without even knowing it. Forgiveness was acceptance of what had happened and an understanding of why.

They had returned from their ride as father and daughter, the change was palpable. Her dad was more comfortable with her and treated her imperceptibly more like her older sister.

When they returned to the ranch house, her mother had been waiting on the steps. She saw them walking up hand in hand and simply smiled as she informed them dinner was waiting.

Richard had returned from Bozeman with their belongings a little before they arrived. He’d been waiting in the family room when she got back and Olivia had kissed him openly in front of her father.

Richard had been a little hesitant to draw her father’s ire but noticed the slight smile on the man’s face and realized his love had succeeded in her quest.

Their meal was comfortable. It felt like family to Olivia for the first time in her life. Richard was by her side and her family loved her. She still felt pain when she noticed Mark’s empty chair. Maybe he would come to terms with her, but she wasn’t sure. She knew now that she could handle his hatred as long as she had people that loved her. It was his fault, not hers.

Olivia ate and laughed and told stories over dinner. She enjoyed the moment in time to simply be.

After dinner, the sun was setting as she sat on the porch with Richard by her side. The couple kissed tenderly, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies as they shared an expression of their love. Olivia felt a warm tingle flowing through her entire being.

Her tranquility was broken when the bitter voice of her brother spoke in the dying light. “You faggots are fucking disgusting.”

Olivia separated herself from Richard and looked in the direction of the voice. Mark looked disheveled and drunk. He hadn't appeared to have shaved in several days and his expression was a mask of disgust.

“What bothers you so much about me?” Olivia fired back defensively.

Mark looked like he’d tasted something bitter. “Everything about you Harry… what the fuck have you become? This fucking parody of a girl so you can fuck guys and not feel ashamed about being a faggot.”

Richard stood and squared his shoulders pushing Olivia to one side of him.

“You won’t speak to her like that,” he growled. “Not in front of me.”

Mark laughed loudly, “Her? You fucking believe that shit, don’t you? You’re so fucking closeted you need to think of my baby brother as a fucking girl so you can sodomize him to your heart's content?”

“Mark!” Olivia screamed louder than she’d hoped, her temper flaring. “Get out of here before you say something more you regret. Leave us alone! If you don’t get it, or can’t accept this then that’s ok, but just don’t be so fucking horrible about it!”

Mark stepped forward and raised his hand to strike her but was blindsided by a jab from Richard. Mark landed heavily in the dust and wiped his bloody lip. His eyes lit up with fire and he lunged at Richard, swinging wildly.

Richard held his own admirably against the bigger man. Both of them exchanged blows and ended up in the dirt in front of the porch. Mark ended up on top of Richard and was landing blows on him with hatred in his eyes. Olivia rushed forward and attempted to drag her brother off her boyfriend.

Mark wheeled back and swung upwards connecting with Olivia’s forehead as she bent to grab him. Olivia hit the ground and the world went black.

She came to with throbbing pain burning behind her eyes.

“It’s ok baby, you’re ok.” her mother’s voice soothed as she felt a hand stroking her hair.
Olivia was barely aware of what was going on around her. There was yelling and she saw fast-moving shapes. As her vision cleared, she saw her father holding her brother by the back of his collar, he was swinging wildly still as her father threw him to the ground and yelled at the man.

“What’s going on?” she murmured trying to focus on her mother. She was laying on the ground with her head in the woman’s lap.

“Your brother, we heard the argument and…” she trailed off. “He’s lost the plot.”

“Richard,” Olivia mumbled thickly.

“He’s fine darling, he’s helping your father subdue him.”

Olivia was helped to sit by her mother. Her head hurt, but she felt otherwise fine after a quick check. Off to one side, her father was dragging Mark away by his scruff down towards the barn.

Richard appeared beside her, he had a bleeding nose and a black eye but he smiled at her regardless. “Are you ok?” he asked carefully, wiping the blood from his lips.

She nodded. “Better than you, what happened?”

“You pulled him back and he swung, must have made a lucky connection because you went down hard… right as your dad came racing out and decked him without a pause.”

Olivia let her shoulders droop. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “This is all my fault.”

“No dear,” her mother chided, “It’s his problem and your father is about to educate him.”

Olivia winced as she touched her temple, a tear running down her face. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

“Your brother is a product of your father without the perspective of wisdom or love.” Her mother opined.

Olivia’s father returned an hour later. It was clear his temper was still flaring as he returned to the house and made for the drinks cabinet before speaking to anyone. James Dalton drew himself a measure of whiskey which he downed in a single gulp before refilling his glass and slumping down into the armchair.

The mood in the room was tense. Olivia was angry and hurt by what had happened. She knew her brother didn’t understand or seem to want to, but she never expected him to get violent.

Richard was being overly protective and her mother had suggested she go to the hospital to check her over but Olivia had refused. She didn’t want or need the fuss. The day had gone so well until that point. She’d finally connected with her father, a task she had expected to be insurmountable only for it to be ruined at the last minute by her own brother.

“What are we going to do with him?” Evelyn asked her husband. “He hit her so hard she blacked out… that’s inexcusable.”

“I’m aware.” Her father muttered tersely, sipping his drink.

“Just leave it,” Olivia interjected flatly. “I don’t want to make this a big deal. Maybe he’ll come around in time, or maybe he won’t, but I won’t lose sleep over it. I have you guys and I have Sarah, that’s more than I ever hoped for. It would be unrealistic to expect it to be perfect.”

“Honey, what he did was wrong. He hit you and he attacked Richard and me. He’s gone beyond what’s acceptable behavior even if he disagrees with you. This is a family, not a damn bar.” her father countered. “I had a conversation with him, he’s under no illusions that if he can’t be civil, he is not to come around here.”

Olivia was under no illusion of what kind of conversation had taken place. It was James Dalton’s way or the highway. Nobody crossed her father and expected to leave with their teeth intact. She felt sorry for Mark in a way. His own prejudice was going to land him in hot water and he was the type to not notice he was boiling.

“I just feel like I caused all of this… if it hadn’t been for me, he’d be fine.”

Her mother stroked her hair and hugged her. “Never blame yourself, sweetie. This isn’t ever your fault. We love you and you’re always welcome in this home, it’s yours too”

Olivia hugged her mother and felt her eyes wet. “I know Mom. You don’t know how good it feels to be your daughter at least.”

“He’s not going to give her any more trouble is he, sir?” Richard directed his question to Olivia’s father.

James Dalton shook his head. “Not if he likes breathing.”

“Let's give the boys some time shall we?” Olivia’s mother announced standing. “Come on.”

Olivia looked a little uncertain but followed her mother as she led her up to the second floor of the house.

“Where are we going?”

“To our bedroom.” Her mother replied not looking back.

“Why…?” Olivia asked, growing paranoid.

“We’re going to have a long overdue chat.”

Oh, great, birds and bees… Olivia thought. Exactly what she, a sexually active twenty-four-year-old, needed to hear from her mother. Evelyn led her daughter into the master bedroom she shared with her father and sat down on the bed before patting a spot beside her for Olivia to sit.

“Honey,” Evelyn began, a twinkle in her eye. “I realize you’re currently equipped a little differently to other girls, but at the same time we do need a little chat, especially about boys.”

Olivia cringed, “Mooooom. I’ve had sex, I’m not exactly a kid.”

“I’m… well aware.” her mother continued attempting to keep a straight face. “But as a girl, there is still so much to teach you. You’re my child and it’s my duty to ensure you’re prepared for the world, however much you might think you don’t need it.”

The next hour of Olivia’s life was one of the most embarrassing experiences of her life as her mother enlightened her about many things she had not been aware of growing up as she had. Whether she wanted to or not, Olivia’s feminine knowledge base had dramatically expanded. Her red face aside, she was thankful to her mother for her education.

Evelyn got up and made her way to the dresser before opening her jewelry box. “One of the reasons I wanted to talk to you in private was to give you this.” She turned around holding a thin silver necklace with an engraved locket on the end.

“This,” Evelyn explained, “was your grandmother's. I gave Sarah her ring on her sixteenth birthday, I was going to give this to whichever of you kids had a daughter first but now, it is yours.”

She placed the locket in Olivia’s palm. The locket was intricately engraved with a floral pattern and the silver, while lightly tarnished with age, had been well taken care of. Opening the tiny clasp, Olivia found a photograph of her mother and father; they appeared to be in their twenties.

“This is beautiful Mom, are you sure?”

Her mother nodded as she took the locket from her hands and fastened it around her neck. “This is to be passed down to you from me, and when you have a daughter, you’ll pass it down to her.”

Olivia fought back an urge to cry. “I’ll never have children.”

Evelyn embraced her daughter and stroked her hair. “You will one day darling. They might not be your blood, but they’ll be your children. It will make no difference in your heart.”

“It does to me Mom, I just wish I was normal.”

Evelyn turned Olivia’s head to look into her eyes. “Darling, you’re perfect the way you are.”

The week had seemed like an incredibly long time when she arrived but it ended far sooner than Olivia wished. She found herself back at Bozeman International with Richard that Friday afternoon with her parents and sister in the departure hall. The mood was melancholic, it made a change from her arrival just seven days earlier.

“I’m going to miss you guys.” Olivia hugged her mother and father.

“You are going to call us all the time now you don’t hate us all, right?” Sarah chided with a grin.

Olivia nodded and smiled. “I’ve got a lot to face when I get back to the city, but I will. I’ll be home as soon as I can get time, and I will call,” she promised.

Olivia’s father shook Richard’s hand warmly. He’d grown to like and respect the man that had captured his newfound daughter’s heart. Richard was a confident, kind, and intelligent man with principles; James respected that.

“Take care of my girl.” He stated firmly, locking eyes with the attorney.

“You have my word, Mister Dalton,” Richard replied, taking his hand. “She’s very special.”

“Oh I know,” James agreed. “I’m beginning to regret that.”

After their final farewells, the couple boarded their flight back to Los Angeles. The mood on their return was far more somber than Olivia would have liked. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she was leaving something behind that she would miss. No longer was Montana just the place she was from, it was her home once again. Her heart would yearn for its mountains and its valleys in a way she hadn’t before. The people, her family, and everything about that wild place. She snuggled into Richard’s shoulder in the seat next to her and sighed. Life had a funny way of proving her wrong at every step of the way.

She felt a paradigm shift in herself as they cruised south over the Rockies. No longer was she living a dual life, split between who she was and who she wanted to be. The weight that her past had placed on her mind had changed and become a buoyant raft lifting her out of troubled waters. Olivia Evelyn Dalton felt like a whole person for the first time in her life. She knew now that no matter what the future threw at her, she would take it on with her head held high and the people that mattered most in the world by her side.

Her brother still brought sadness to her heart. She knew expecting perfection and acceptance was more than she could have asked for, but she wished he could have had more time to try. Mark had always been headstrong and independent. Her mother had been right, he was a lot like her father. It still amazed her that the gruff and macho rancher had been able to truly see her.

Their flight landed back in LA after eight that evening and they caught a cab back to their apartment. Olivia wasn’t sure when she’d begun to consider the place her home. She mentioned this fact to Richard who simply shrugged and told her that there was little point keeping her place anymore, he had no plans of kicking her out. This earned him a playful slap on the behind.

Neither of them had the energy to cook or go out for dinner, so they ordered takeout. While they waited for it to arrive, Olivia excused herself to change into something more comfortable. Stripping out of her jeans and shirt, Olivia examined herself in the bathroom mirror. The last few months had changed her body significantly. Standing in the bathroom in her underwear, she felt finally comfortable in herself. Her hair had descended to her neck in the time she had been recovering, now pushed back behind her ears. Her breasts had grown to a large A cup and she felt comfortable without the forms she had worn before her trip. Her waist had narrowed and her hips and thighs had begun to fill out nicely. She was so far removed from that gawky boy.

Who was the girl in the mirror? She was a cop, a rancher’s daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, and most of all, she was happy. Olivia thought about all of those descriptions for a moment. They described what she was, but not who. Who was she? She wasn’t entirely sure yet, but she knew that she would finally be able to find out. Olivia waved to her reflection and grinned as she saw Richard slide up behind her in the mirror.

“Hey,” she purred.

Richard wrapped his arms around her midriff and kissed her neck. “Are we gaining a sense of vanity?”

Olivia shrugged at his reflection and smiled. “Maybe a little.”

“Well not that I mind, but you might want to consider putting some clothes on, dinner’s here.”

Olivia turned in his arms and gave him a wicked grin before grabbing his butt and running off cackling to find herself some clothes.

“How was your trip?” Doctor Barton asked when Olivia arrived for her first session since her return from Montana.

“It was far better than I could have hoped,” she admitted, smiling. “The idea of facing them felt so insurmountable but with the exception of my brother, It went really well. My dad took some convincing, but he came around in the end. I think they saw how happy I was and how well this suited me. A lot of it was regret for how they handled things when I was growing up.”

Barton raised her eyebrow. “How so?”

“It was my mom first that really said it,” Olivia explained. “They had good intentions I guess. By the time they realized it wasn’t working and it was hurting me, I’d shut them out and didn’t want to engage anymore… I locked down and defended myself till I could get out.”

“You’re defending their actions because they accepted you?” The doctor countered deftly.

Olivia thought for a moment and shook her head. “No, no I’m not. They have a lot to make up for but I think my own experiences made me realize that before they are my parents, they are a man and woman. Nobody is perfect or holds all the answers to life. It would be naive of me to blame them with intent when none is expressed. Both have told me they are sorry for what they saw as a mistake and what their intent had been. My parents are a little old school, what worked for my brother just didn’t work for me. But that was because I wasn’t the son they or I thought. So no, my forgiveness isn’t contingent on their acceptance of me. I will never forget it… but I can forgive.”

Doctor Barton smiled and nodded. “A measured and reasonable interpretation. I think that shows maturity beyond your age and situation. I was hoping you weren’t going to blindly forgive in exchange for acceptance.”

Olivia looked distant for a moment and she glanced out the large picture window towards the ocean. “When I first got there, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do or say. Over time, and after speaking with them, I began to realize that they were trying in their own way to help. It was extremely poorly honestly, that much is true. Given my own later realizations.” she laughed plucking at her knee-length floral skirt. “I think that played a large part in how I received it. It was like giving a cellist the sheet music for the percussion section.”

Olivia screwed up her face and looked horrified. “I think Richard’s musical taste is rubbing off on me.”

Doctor Barton chuckled. “Not an awful thing at least and an excellent metaphor. How are things with you two?”

Olivia described her relationship with Richard to the psychiatrist. She told her how much she loved the man and how she felt when she was around him, how he had stood by her throughout her recovery and her homecoming. It made her realize just how serious things had gotten between them.

“This may be a little personal,” the doctor began hesitantly, but I’d like to speak about your sexual interactions with this gentleman. If you’re willing of course?”

Olivia frowned, “How so?”

“How for example did he feel when your sexual relationship changed from that of two men to a man and a woman?”

Olivia felt a little sheepish. “Other than a little kissing, It didn’t. I was always a woman with Richard from almost our second date onward. In the more intimate regard, ours has always been that of a man and a woman.”

Marie Barton raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Olivia nodded shyly. “We didn’t plan to do anything that first night he came back to my place, and he wanted to see who I performed as; Mia. We got caught up in the moment and one thing led to another.”

“You were sexually active as a male before this?”

Olivia nodded slightly, her face flushing.

“That embarrasses you? Why?”

She frowned, “I guess in hindsight it feels wrong. It was like it was someone else.” She sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “With Richard, it feels so right. I know I’m still equipped the same way as I was before and I do want to correct that when I’m able to. It feels natural now; as though this is how it was meant to be. It’s not that being gay was wrong, god no. It was a role I never felt comfortable in I suppose. Perhaps I assumed it would get easier, more normal, I was inexperienced and questioning myself. I’m not embarrassed, I’m just… I feel there’s a difference in how I respond to him than I do to anyone else. Being a woman with a man feels normal for me, being a boy didn’t. I can be myself in my most intimate moment.”

Doctor Barton made some notes on her pad and took off her glasses.

“Olivia, you’ve no need to be embarrassed. There is a difference and those roles can change, and we can all feel comfortable playing different parts. We all relate differently and I suspect in part your discomfort is the dysphoria you feel about the male role, even a submissive one.”

Olivia shrugged but paused for a moment before speaking. “How does that explain… ah, When we were in Bozeman at our hotel, we slept together and I initiated sex and I was the dominant one. I took charge of our lovemaking, I was on top.” she flushed scarlet at her admission. “What does that make me?”

Doctor Barton laughed. “Well firstly, you said it yourself; You were on top, not the top. A position doesn’t change anything. That makes you a woman that knows what she wants.” she smiled sympathetically. “I know it’s all new to you, but your sex and how you enjoy sex aren’t connected and don’t need to be. We all have our moments where we want to be taken and when we want to take charge. If anything, this means you’re more comfortable in who you are, that you’re more able to be expressive in an intimate moment.”

Olivia considered this. “I do feel more expressive. I feel more at home in my skin. Every time I look in the mirror I like what I see more and more.”

Barton smiled warmly. “I’m glad, that’s very normal and I’m pleased to say you seem to be responding well; you’ve stopped using the forms I see?”

“I have, I guess I don’t feel like I need them to validate me anymore.” Olivia shrugged. “It’s not much, but it’s all me.”

“It’s a big step, you’ve come a long way in a short time.”

“I’ve had help.” Olivia replied happily.

“One final topic I’d like to cover today is your incident if you’re willing?” Doctor Barton shifted her tone seamlessly.

Olivia nodded. She’d known that she would want to talk eventually. They’d brought it up in a previous meeting but she hadn’t delved too deeply. Olivia nodded. She felt ready to confront what had happened.

“Tell me how you felt when it happened.” Doctor Barton began gently.

Olivia began to explain the incident at the liquor store to the psychiatrist as best she could. Every detail was scored into her mind. Even after several months, she saw it as clear as day. She remembered the gun, the look on the clerk’s face, and the decision to tackle the man to the ground that landed her in the position she was in today. She remembered how time seemed to stretch as she fought the man for the weapon and the searing pain and shock she felt as the bullets hit her. By the time she had finished describing what she remembered as she looked up into Anderson’s face as she lay bleeding, she realized she had been crying.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “It brought back a lot.”

Doctor Barton allowed her to collect herself before continuing. “Have there been any nightmares?”

Olivia shifted uncomfortably in her chair as she thought back. “Only a really bad one while I was in the hospital right after it happened. I’ve had a few bad nights but nothing that I really remember.”

“Any strange reactions to anything or outbursts of temper?”

Olivia shook her head. “No, not yet”

Doctor Barton made some notes. “I would ask how you’re coping with the matter of losing your manhood, but I would suspect that’s not really a problem here… check.”

Olivia smiled sardonically, “Yeah I think that was a positive column not a negative. I can quite safely say that on reflection it is no loss. I briefly felt concerned over not being able to pass on my genetics but realized I had no desire to do so… not like that at least. I’d never be able to be a mother genetically anyway.”

“Your mobility has returned,” Barton noted, “Rehab has been successful for you?”

She nodded. “Yes, I’m seeing a doctor about my physical signoff next week with a view to returning to work pending your assessment.”

“I think I can sign you off as a well-adjusted young woman with a reasonable response to her situation given the additional context. You are going to continue seeing me anyway, so we can touch on anything that crops up if we need to.”

Olivia pulled her stetson down over her eyes. The sun was blazing down as she relaxed on her towel allowing the heat to warm her body. The surf had been good that morning and they’d ridden the waves for a couple of lazy hours. She was becoming more used to surfing as her body changed. Without the weight of her forms, her center of gravity was still off, but it was within a more manageable range and she found she was able to adapt far quicker to the new changes to her physique. Surfing had long been a solitary escape from city life, but now it was something she shared with Richard and it made her love it even more.

Richard rolled his eyes as he walked up to their little camp above the tide line. “I can’t believe you’re still wearing that thing, it really doesn’t fit the vibe.”

“I’m proud of my heritage.” Olivia protested. “And It’s a good sun hat.”

Richard dug his board into the soft sand and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler they’d left by their towels. “Yeah, but it’s not exactly surfer attire.”

“It would be if we had beaches in Montana.”

Olivia screamed as half of the water bottle hit her naked stomach.

“Asshole.” she growled toweling herself off. “I was really relaxed.”

“You were in the ocean ten minutes ago.” Richard chuckled as he sat down beside her on the sand.

Olivia glared at Richard for a moment before giggling, unable to maintain her serious expression. Richard smiled and drank the rest of his water.

“I love you,” she murmured softly as she reached up to stroke his cheek.

“I love you too.”

Richard leaned down and removed her hat and tossed it away before kissing her deeply. Olivia felt her heart swell as their lips touched. She moaned and opened her mouth to accept his tongue. She felt his hand grasp her side softly, his thumb tracing little circles on her skin. Every sensation felt like liquid fire as she responded passionately to his advances. She felt his hand slide upward along her ribcage and cup her left breast through her bikini top before squeezing gently.

It took an almost superhuman effort to slap his hand away and push him off. She lay breathing heavily for a moment as she collected herself.

“We’re in public,” she groaned, feeling great disappointment. “Why couldn’t you get this horny later?”

Richard smirked. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Last thing I need is to get arrested for public indecency before I get back to work.” she protested.

Richard looked like he remembered something suddenly. “Oh, you’re free Friday right?”

“I’m washing my hair,” Olivia shrugged nonchalantly, running her hand through her damp locks.

Richard rolled his eyes and ignored her play. “No, I have a little thing at city hall, black tie.”

Olivia frowned, “And you’re only giving me a week’s notice?”

“Sure, that’s plenty of time.” Richard shrugged, failing to see the problem.

“There is so little you know about women.” Olivia shook her head. “Fine, but you’re buying me a dress.”

Richard looked pained as he realized what he had set himself up for. “This is going to cost me big isn’t it?”

Olivia smiled slyly. Richard recognized that look. He’d seen it on sharks at the Aquarium.

Richard was indeed correct, it cost him a great deal. The next day, Olivia dragged him shopping and she didn’t hold back. After several hours of shopping in the Rodeo boutiques, she finally settled on a stunning A-line evening gown with a ruched bodice, half sleeves, and a silk skirt in a royal blue that offset her coloring. The dress was off the shoulder and nipped at the waist to emphasize her slim figure. She insisted on a pair of Milano pumps in a matching blue and a satin clutch to complete her outfit. Richard’s protests over the cost for the purposes of a single event were promptly shot down as Olivia made her case like a seasoned attorney.

She countered that the event would be not only their first major social engagement as a couple, but that it was he, in fact, who would benefit from her making a good impression. Given that the event would be attended by politicians and legal professionals from across the state, they needed to appear as though they belonged in such a world.

Richard gave up when she pointed out that he was simply going to pull his tux out of the wardrobe and possibly shave, she was going to go through far more to look perfect for him and it was entirely his fault she had to rush.

Olivia had booked a salon appointment for earlier on the Friday afternoon of the event to ensure she was absolutely ready. Her hair now reached the nape of her neck and was in dire need of a style now that it was longer.

This was, she realized her first time getting dolled up to the nines since she last performed as Mia. That felt like a lifetime ago in a different universe to her mind. She knew what to do and she could have done a reasonable effort herself but she reasoned that she deserved a little pampering now. It was also evident to her that most of her more dramatic looks were designed for the stage, feminine or not. A swanky party deserved a swanky Olivia.

As much as she played the role of the Prima Donna, she made sure Richard knew she wasn’t deliberately milking him. She cared far too much about the man to spend his money recklessly. Once she had won the argument she had explained more sensitively that it was in no small part her own nerves that made her feel as though she had to be the perfect girl for him. She wanted to make sure she didn’t embarrass him or show him up in front of his friends. This was a new world for her and she felt a pang of self-consciousness at the idea of moving in these social circles.

Richard had understood, he always understood she realized. She needed to feel beautiful and she deserved the best. He made certain she knew he didn’t care if she wore a designer gown or a potato sack, to him she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

It was the day before the gala at city hall, and Olivia found herself back at the hospital waiting to see Doctor Miller for her physical evaluation. She was nervous and she wasn’t without reason. The assessment would determine if she was ready to return to work, or even if she would ever be able to. Physically she felt no repercussions of the incident that had brought her to this moment in her life. Her body was healed and her strength had grown greater than she’d ever known it to be. As far as her mind would rationalize the fear, she knew it was the potential it held than any real power over her.

Doctor Miller greeted her with a smile and welcomed her into the exam room. It wasn’t her usual office that Olivia had visited before, but one a few floors lower near where she had attended physical therapy. The room contained the usual hospital furniture, along with a collection of gym equipment and computers.

“How are you feeling?” Miller asked as she indicated for Olivia to sit in the chair beside her desk. “Free movement I see, any pain or discomfort?”

Olivia shook her head. “None,” she smiled nervously, “I feel good, nothing for some time.”

Miller nodded and made some notes. “We’re going to run you through some exercises today and check your performance and once that is over, I’d like to give you a full physical exam and we can hopefully have this over before lunch.”

Doctor Mille ran Olivia through a battery of tests of both her strength and endurance on the various equipment in the room. She even ran several miles on the treadmill with a mask measuring her aerobic respiration.

By the time she was done, Olivia was drenched in sweat. She’d ditched her tank top and was just wearing her shorts and sports bra as she toweled off, her body exhausted.

Miller sat at her desk writing up her findings while Olivia collected herself.

Miller looked over, “I have to say, you’re a lot different from the person I first treated.”

Olivia glanced down self-consciously and grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I’ve changed my hair.”

Doctor Miller laughed, “That sense of humor is special, please never lose it.”

Olivia smiled. “I am… well, I was a comedian when all this began. When I first found the world of drag, I didn’t want to sing or dance. I found that when I created that persona, Mia, she was so much more confident than I was. She had a real fire and a sharp wit and I ended up taking to stand up comedy as my act. I think I rolled a lot of her into myself.”

Miller nodded and stood as she gathered her stethoscope. “Let’s hope you find the rest of this just as funny, time to strip.” she gestured behind the partition to where an exam table was partially shielded by a blue curtain. “Grab the robe in there and I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Olivia complied and removed her clothing behind the partition before shrugging into the paper gown. Once she was ready, Doctor Miller joined her and politely asked her to lie down on the table.

Over the next fifteen minutes, Olivia was poked and prodded and examined. Her wounds were checked and her scars were noted. She felt shame when the doctor examined her genitals, as relevant as it was to her case.

Miller smiled apologetically as she covered Olivia back up and sat back on the low stool she had placed beside the table.

“Thank you, I know that was hard.” she comforted the girl. “Just one final check if I may?”

Olivia nodded.

“Sit up, and lower your gown for me please, I want to check your breast development.”

Sheepishly, Olivia dropped the gown to her waist and had to fight the urge to cover herself. It was a strange feeling for her, sitting there topless. She had always had difficulty with nakedness or even showing a lot of skin. Before she had begun this journey, she’d spent much of her life covering herself, bulking herself with clothing, and trying to hide her body. Now much more confident in herself she no longer hid, but this felt different.

Miller carefully palpated her skin and measured her chest before allowing Olivia to dress while she made her final notes.

Rejoining the doctor by her desk, Olivia sat and waited for the final verdict.

Finishing her writing Miller turned and smiled. “Without much fanfare, I can tell you that you’ve passed your physical and are fit to return to work.”

Olivia smiled happily, a warm rush filling her being. Her greatest hurdle was behind her.

“Your strength and endurance are exactly where I’d expect them to be for a woman your age and profession and from what I can see you’ve had no lasting effects from your injuries beyond the obvious,” she added with a small quirk of her lip. “The wounds are healed nicely and your scarring is minimal. As far as your gender is concerned, I’m extremely pleased with your development. From what I can see, body fat has redistributed and your breast growth is excellent. With your younger age, there has it seems been some small growth of your pelvis although that’s likely as much as will occur. Your reports from Doctor Barton show you to be a well-adjusted young woman.”

Olivia took it all in. “I’m normal?”

Doctor Miller nodded. “For your situation yes. Your physical condition is good, I see no problems continuing your path. As far as your job goes, I can sign you off for duty.”

Olivia wasn’t sure what to think. Six months had seemed so long when she was sitting in the hospital bed after her shooting, almost a lifetime. Addressing her feelings and her situation had seemed like an easy choice with so much time on her hands. Now it was over and she was able to return to the job she loved. Would it still love her?

Doctor Miller noticed the look of concern on the girl’s face. “You’re realizing you have to confront that aspect of your life aren’t you?”

Olivia nodded and swallowed. “I’m not worried about anyone I have to deal with knowing but I’m worried about my colleagues.”

Miller nodded. “You’re a strong woman, you’ve made it through all of this mess with grace and a clear head, I have no doubt you’ll handle whatever comes your way.”

It was just after lunch on Friday when Olivia took a cab from the apartment to the Salon she had booked for her battle preparations. The place was an upscale affair just far enough off Rodeo to not be insanely overpriced. She stood on the sidewalk for a moment frozen by a jolt of fear at what she was about to do. She wasn’t sure why she felt concerned, she’d stood on stages in front of crowds and had the confidence to tell jokes. She had spent countless hours in public with other people interacting as a female and nobody had noticed a thing, why was she worried now?

Olivia reasoned that this was the first time she was going to be examined at close range, her face, her hair, and her body would all be on display that afternoon. She tugged at the waistband of her shorts. She’d dressed down in flats, a teeshirt, and shorts for her appointment not wanting to appear overdressed, but now she felt as though she should have put more effort in. Squashing the feeling she made her way inside and walked over to the reception desk with more confidence than she felt.

A rather wild-haired woman with a lot of makeup greeted her with a wide smile when she approached.

“Welcome to DeMarco’s! You have an appointment?”

Olivia nodded. “Olivia Dalton, One PM?”

The woman checked the computer behind her desk and nodded. “Got you here for the works, take a seat and we’ll grab you as soon as we can, you want a glass of wine while you wait?”

Olivia shook her head then changed her mind and agreed. Perhaps it would take the edge off her nerves?

The woman, whose name she learned was Angela brought her a tall slim glass of Chardonnay while she waited. Olivia regarded the surroundings she now found herself in. This was her first visit to a salon and it was a fascinating place. In her life, before she hadn’t taken much care of her hair, and she’d certainly never had her makeup and nails done professionally. As long as she didn’t count the queens that taught her. She still felt a bout of nervous energy about being discovered but reasoned that it was unlikely anyone that worked here would actually care.

Eventually, an effeminate man called Paul introduced himself and whisked her off to a wash station. She felt a little strange at first when she had her neck craned back to reach into the basin but found she rather enjoyed someone else washing her hair. Once Paul had finished, he led her across the room to one of the styling stations and sat her down.

“So my darling, it’s obvious you need to be rescued from whatever that mess on your head is, what are you thinking?”

Olivia grimaced, she hadn’t thought it was that bad. Thankfully she’d prepared. “I had to get my hair cut short a few months ago… I had an accident.”

Paul looked sympathetic, “Dear me, well let's fix that, you’ve enough to work with now, so I’ll take care of you.”

“I was thinking something like a bob or something neat and low maintenance but stylish.”

Paul frowned, “Low maintenance darling? Really?”

“Don’t be offended, I’m a cop I need something that can look good but be manageable for day-to-day.” Olivia smiled at him in the mirror.

“So getting dolled up to be armed and fabulous?” Paul smirked.

“Gala at city hall tonight. I’m not working.”

Paul nodded, “I’ve had a couple in this morning for that shindig. Okay… Let’s take a swing at this. You’ve got enough for something nice without going down the extension road.”

Olivia nodded her agreement and left her fate in Paul’s expert hands. They chatted comfortably as he worked his magic on her hair, his hands flying with comb and scissors as he neatened up the shape she had.

“You’re not from round here are you darling?”

“No, Montana originally,” Olivia responded fighting the urge to shake her head.

“Oh exotic, I’ve always wanted to bed a cowboy.” Paul giggled to himself.

Olivia screwed up her face and laughed. “Nope, not for me, none of them last longer than eight seconds.”

Paul froze what he was doing and squinted at her suspiciously through the mirror. “That’s a rather specific joke.”

Olivia realized there was no hiding her deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Is it?” she asked carefully trying to sound offhand. “I heard it somewhere.”

“Really?” Paul asked putting his hands on his hips. “You know I think I heard it the same place, but you don’t look like the sort to patronize the same establishments I do.”

He tilted his head and stared at her for a moment before using his hands to mask off her hair leaving only her face. His eyes went wide.

“You!” he gasped theatrically. “You’re her!”

Olivia swatted his pointing finger away and cringed. “Please,” she begged. “Not here.”

Paul kneeled down beside her and stared into her face. “You’re her!” he repeated in a stage whisper, “Mia Calafia!”

Olivia’s shoulders sagged. “Yes,” she admitted, “I’m not here for that.”

Paul waved his hand dismissively. “Obviously not darling, gosh, I always thought you were a regular queen.” he sounded almost disappointed.

Olivia felt a small sparkle of happiness at Paul’s assertion. She briefly considered going along with the idea but realized she might need a confidant. “I was once.” she winked conspiratorially.

Paul feigned shock. “No, rea…” he rolled his eyes. “The hair, darling, am I right?”

Olivia blushed and nodded.

“Sweetie I’d never have known if you hadn’t told me, gosh, I love your show… now I know why I’ve not seen you in so long you little scamp!”

Paul returned to cutting Olivia’s hair and chattered excitedly. He continued to make sly assertions and little knowing looks as he worked, he seemed rather enthused to be working on someone he considered a celebrity.

While he worked, a woman arrived and began working on her nails. Olivia was overwhelmed by the attention she was receiving, finding it to be an incredibly relaxing experience. Eventually, the pair were done and she was shown the results in the large mirror in front of the station.

Olivia’s eyes went wide and she fought the urge to cry. She clasped her hands to her mouth and caught sight of her new longer perfectly manicured nails. It was all too much for her and tears fell from her eyes.

“Don’t cry sweetheart,” Paul whispered kneeling beside her. “I know it’s a lot, but you were easy to make beautiful. This suits you.”

Paul had styled her hair into a sleek bob style with a side parting that curved gracefully around her slim face, the tone was somehow richer and more vibrant than her hair had ever been with darker highlights running through the lengths. Olivia could barely take her eyes off her reflection, it was as though she was finally seeing herself for the first time as others did.

“It’s amazing,” she whispered quietly, her fingertips stroking the end of her hair. “I love it.”

“Just wait till we get you all dolled up and ready for war darling, you’ll put that old you to shame.”

Paul was right. Amanda had led her away to one of the other stations where she proceeded to work her magic on Olivia’s face. Olivia had worn more makeup before and even had others do it for her when she was starting out on stage, but she’d never had anyone do what Amanda was doing. The woman used her face as a blank canvas to craft and create a version of her she never imagined possible. She’d talked Olivia through what she was doing and why, and while she understood the techniques and craft, she was certain she would never have the talent of this woman.

When she was done, Olivia could barely believe the image in the mirror was her. From the neck down, she still wore her teeshirt and shorts, but from the neck up, her face and hair were perfectly sculpted to a vision of beauty she hadn’t ever imagined in her wildest dreams. Paul came over and stood behind her shoulder smiling knowingly.

“Not bad blondie,” he noted approvingly. “This suits you.”

Aware they were alone, Olivia agreed. “I think it does. It took me some time to realize that.”

“Will you ever perform again? I always loved you, you were a breath of fresh air amongst those tired old queens.”

Olivia shrugged. “Maybe, but I feel like Mia Calafia’s time is over… Part of her is dead and part became who I am today. Seeing myself like this, I can feel her fire inside me.”

Paul looked pensive for a moment and he fluffed her hair gently. “You’re going to be a force to reckon with my little mockingbird.”

“You’ll keep my secret, won’t you Paul?”

The man nodded and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Of course dear, on the condition that you keep coming back to me.”

Olivia found she could agree to that condition readily. She thanked the staff and paid her bill before hailing a cab back to the apartment. She felt entirely incongruous dressed so casually whilst made up so finely but the driver didn’t seem to care. Well, she knew he cared from the glances in the mirror, but she didn’t think her clothes were noticed.

Once she returned, she made an effort to avoid Richard and retired to dress for the evening. She sat on the bed for a moment taking everything in. Her dress was hanging on the open closet door to her side, and she just stared at it for a moment, lost in her thoughts.

How had she gotten here? She was about to accompany her man to a high-profile event full of politicians and officials. She’d gotten her clearance to return back to work and she would be doing that as a version of herself she never expected others to meet. Her life was so very different from where she had been only a year ago and it was an extremely daunting feeling.

Olivia stood and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window that filled an entire wall of the bedroom. The blinds were drawn and she gazed out over the city below them. She was frightened for the future, and she was frightened for this evening, but she was determined not to let it affect her. Life was finally in her control, and she wasn’t going to let anyone take the wheel from her.

Yes, Mia Calafia’s time was over, the character that had given her the chance to be popular, attractive, outgoing, and strong was gone. She had given her existence to allow a new being to occupy her body and that girl was strong, she was capable, and she was powerful. Olivia Evelyn Dalton was as soft and caring as Harry ever was and as outgoing and alive as Mia demanded of her. Olivia wasn’t just defined by what she did, or who she was to others. She might be a girlfriend, a daughter, a sister, a performer, a cop, and a woman, but she was more than all of that. She was here.

Olivia stripped and changed into the lingerie she had set aside for the evening. She’d selected a black satin bustier and panty set that made her feel deliciously naughty. She paired it with a pair of silk stockings that she clipped carefully to the garter straps attached to the bottom, careful not to run the expensive garments with her slightly unwieldy talons. Once done, she posed playfully in the mirror and gave herself a wink. Mia would remain in some fashion, lending her armor to the cause.

Stepping over to the dress, she removed it from its hangar almost reverently, running her hand along the smooth silk of its skirt. She stepped carefully into it and pulled it up her body. With some difficulty and a distinct lack of grace, she was able to zip the dress closed. Smoothing it with her hands she slipped her feet into the matching pumps and turned to regard herself in the mirror.

Olivia wasn’t prepared for what looked back at her. The woman in the mirror was elegant and sophisticated but radiated an innocence and beauty she had never felt before. Her skinny figure was enhanced by the silk skirt of the dress that swayed with each movement of her body. Olivia felt like a princess.

She checked her makeup one final time and moved a strand of hair from her eyes before deciding she was ready. She paused momentarily at the door to the bedroom, a small moment of nerves gripped her as she wondered if Richard would think she was beautiful. She pushed the feeling aside and stepped out into the living area of the apartment and approached the sofa where the man sat, still in his office attire.

She coughed lightly and he turned to look at her. His expression told her everything she needed to know. Richard stood and walked over to her wordlessly and reached out to take her hands in his. He grinned like a teenager. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Olivia averted her eyes shyly and blushed. She felt like a teenager, or she reasoned, what she thought she might if she had been. “Thank you.”

Richard lifted her chin until their eyes met. “I almost don’t want to go tonight, I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

“Looks like you’re not coming along,” she observed dryly, regarding his suit with a raised eyebrow.

Richard grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “I won’t take long, not like I can compare to you anyway.”

He paused and remembered something, “I’ll be back,” he explained rushing off to the bedroom.

Moments later he returned holding a long velvet box that he placed into Olivia’s hands. “I got these for you, for tonight.”

Olivia opened the lid and gasped. Inside were a matching set of diamond drop earrings and a matching choker.

“This is too much.” she protested lightly fingering one of the earrings, her smile betraying her modesty.

Richard shook his head, “Not even close to being enough you mean, I think these deserve you.”

Olivia smiled at his little joke and removed her existing earrings and replaced them with the diamonds, they felt positively scandalous to wear. Richard helped her fasten the choker and led her to one of the room’s mirrors. She could see the light glint off the stones as she moved.

“These must have cost a fortune.” she protested, feeling guilt creep into her good mood. “Tell me they weren’t that expensive.”

Richard shrugged. “Not bad, and I did a favor for a dealer a while back and represented him, he owed me more than one.”

Olivia felt slightly better, but not much. “Go get changed.” she chastised. “I swear to god, I’ve been at this for hours and you’re going to be ready in ten minutes, it’s not fair.”

“You can wear the tux if you want.” he chuckled heading for the bedroom. “Somehow I think you’d still look stunning.”

Olivia smiled. Looking like she did, it would probably be quite amusing.

Her estimation was almost correct. Fifteen minutes later, Richard returned as she stood gazing out over the city, afraid to sit and ruin her dress. He’d scrubbed up well, his hair was neat and his facial hair still stylishly scruffy. His tuxedo fit him like a glove and she felt mildly annoyed at how quickly he’d managed it all.

Taking her arm, Richard led Olivia out of the apartment and down to the lobby where a black town car was waiting for them. Ever the gentleman, he held her door for her and assisted her into the vehicle before joining her on the opposite side. The car drove them through the early evening traffic towards the center of the city.

“I can’t get over how beautiful you are.”

Olivia looked over at Richard beside her and smiled. It wasn’t the first time he’d said that to her, but it felt distinctly special this time.

“I’m a little surprised myself,” she admitted, nervously fingering an earring. “I was hoping I’d be okay, I just wanted to make an effort for your sake.”

Richard shook his head and grinned. “There is nothing okay about you Olivia. You’re beautiful every day but somehow you’ve managed to just blow that out of the water, I’m going to be the luckiest man there tonight.”

“Oh, so I’ve ruined my every day for you now?” Olivia asked sadly, mocking a disappointed frown.

Richard smirked. “That is not going to work on me, young lady.”

“Well I’m glad I meet the dirty old man’s approval.” she parried, a twinkle in her eye.

“I’m only eight years older than you.”

“You’ll always be a cradle robber to me.” Olivia giggled.

Richard smiled and shook his head. “I swear this is a new version of you.”

Olivia looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “It is. I’ve been a little uncertain of myself for some time, battling guilt and fear and other people’s expectations. Today, I felt like I belonged and I decided that all those versions of myself, those characters were all me in equal parts.”

“Be nice to people tonight. I’m almost worried”

“You’ve got nothing to fear from me, I’ll be a good girl.” Olivia grinned.

The town car pulled up outside City Hall. The building was set on its own block in the civic center district. It had always appeared a little out of place with its sandstone gothic architecture but tonight it was for that reason it seemed so fitting for a formal affair. Lights were playing over the exterior as groups of people moved up the pathway towards the entrance, chatting and exchanging pleasantries.

A valet opened Olivia’s door for her and offered her a hand. She accepted the man’s assistance and carefully extracted herself from the car with as much grace as she could muster.

Richard joined her and she took his arm as they walked towards the doors. She was certainly not underdressed she observed. It appeared as if the city’s bigwigs had pulled out their finest rags for this Hoedown.

An attendant at the door checked for Richard’s name and admitted them into the cavernous atrium of the building. Olivia had only been here once when she had first arrived in the city and the place had been transformed for the event. Music was playing from a jazz band on a small stage to the side while waiters with trays of drinks and food moved amongst the crowd filling the space.

“This is really something.” she mused aloud as they accepted champagne flutes offered by a waiter that had appeared beside them. “I feel rather out of place.”

Richard shook his head, “nonsense, you’re absolutely perfect.”

Olivia was going to comment when she shut her mouth and stared. The Attorney General was walking up, arm in arm with a woman she assumed to be his wife smiling warmly at Richard.

“Richie you old dog, private practice treating you well?”

Richard shook the man’s hand firmly and nodded. “It certainly pays far better than when I worked for you.”

The man turned and regarded Olivia for a moment smiling. “And how is your lovely guest?”

“John, this beautiful woman is my girlfriend Olivia Dalton. Olivia, this political beast is John Michaels, The AG.”

The older man extended his hand to Olivia shaking it firmly. “A pleasure my dear, you’ve managed to tie this wandering heart down I see?”

“Thank you, and you sir.”

“Margret, his long-suffering wife.” the woman beside him explained, taking Olivia’s proffered hand. “Are you in the profession too?”

Olivia shook her head. “No ma’am, I’m a Sheriff’s Deputy.”

“Bloody hell, they improved the uniforms.” Michaels chuckled.

Olivia blushed, she felt entirely out of her depth in this world.

“I worked for John back when he was District Attorney,” Richard explained. “How is the political realm treating you?”

“Exhausting, but I have my eyes on other avenues.”

“You always did.” Richard grinned. “Good to see you again, John.”
They spoke for a few minutes before the Attorney General and his wife made their excuses and moved on to mingle with other guests. Richard led Olivia onwards and introduced her to a number of notable parties in attendance.

Olivia was beginning to feel a little starstruck as official after official seemed to know Richard well.

“I never realized you were this connected,” she mentioned when they finally were able to find a table to rest.

Richard shrugged. “Hazard of the job when you worked for the city, and now work for a lot of these folks in their private matters, all of them want to be on your good side.”

Olivia sipped her champagne. “I promise not to tell them I’m a country yokel.”

“I don’t think a cattle rancher’s daughter qualifies as a yokel by any stretch.” Richard pointed out. “Your dad has a helicopter.”

Olivia shrugged, a gesture she felt slightly incongruous in her gown. “I don’t think these people differentiate beyond the cow shit.”

“Who’s being prejudiced now?” Richard chided playfully.

The room’s attention was drawn to the podium located by the stage when a functionary announced the arrival of Governor Macdill.

The crowd clapped politely and camera bulbs flashed as the man ascended the steps and took his place behind the seal-emblazoned podium.

Governor Macdill was a handsome man in his mid-fifties. He was the very image of a Californian politician with his head of sandy blonde hair and tan skin. The man had been elected three years prior and was beginning his reelection campaign.

As the applause died down, he began to speak.

“Thank you everyone for coming to this little event tonight. I’m honored to see so many of you fine folks in attendance. I promise not to keep you here all night so I’ll make this brief I promise, I know you’d all rather be elsewhere!”

The governor chuckled at his joke before continuing. “As you’re all aware, tonight marks the start of my reelection campaign. I feel we’ve had a strong start at our promises to make this fine state the best it possibly can be, and I implore you to share my dream and help me take us forward into our rightful place at the forefront of the entire nation.”

The crowd clapped loudly and the governor waved and smiled. He was about to continue when a burst of gunfire ripped through the room. The room descended into pandemonium.

Olivia grabbed Richard’s shoulder and dragged him back into a corner as people began to panic. The room was filled with gunfire and screams.

Olivia watched several uniformed and plainclothes officers rush from the wings to extract the Governor, only to be gunned down by men in tuxedos. The band, she realized to her horror. The band was firing into the air, corralling the crowd of startled guests and rapidly neutralizing any threats to their apparent objective; the Governor.

Macdill cowered behind his podium, gripping it as though a life preserver. One of the men approached and jabbed the butt of his rifle sharply into the back of the man’s head, crumpling him to the ground. He stepped over the Governor’s unconscious form and snatched the microphone from the podium.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention,” he shouted theatrically, his voice booming around the entire space.

The shooting had stopped and more tuxedoed men were now herding frightened guests toward the center of the room. Olivia pulled Richard with her and merged with the herd of bodies.

“This is our official protest against Governor Steven Macdill’s systematic ruination of the state of California. Long enough this man has torn down the moral fabric of the state and thrown our values to the wolves. We are here to end that tonight, an example must be set. Civil war is upon us and it’s time to take arms against the systematic erasure of everything we hold true as Americans.”

It was political Olivia realized, the media hadn’t helped in the slightest. Different networks lean to different extremes of the spectrum whipping up radical beliefs and hatred of the other. It was only a matter of time before it exploded into violence. She just hadn’t expected to be there when it did.

The man on the podium raised his rifle over his head and fired a burst into the ceiling.

“This is our Alamo. We are willing to die to protect our America and you will too unless you do exactly as we say. As we speak, my men are securing and boobytrapping any potential exits. Our goal here is to raise awareness for our fight and make an example of this traitor.” he added kicking Macdill. “Do as we say, and you may live through tonight. Cross us, and your blood will feed the flower of freedom.”

The building’s age and architecture were going to work to their advantage in this instance Olivia realized. Its heavy sandstone construction and elevated windows were going to place the police at a distinct disadvantage.
“We’re going to start separating you into groups and moving you to other areas of the building.” the man announced waving to his comrades. “Comply with their orders or there will be permanent repercussions.”

The men worked efficiently. Olivia noticed that a good number of the waitstaff were alongside the men. If they survived tonight, she was pretty sure some heads were going to roll amongst the state’s Law Enforcement Agencies.

Richard and Olivia were taken to a room on the eighth floor by a pair of terrorists along with eighteen other guests. She saw the logic in their tactic. If they had all hostages in a single location, it would be far simpler for the police to mount a simultaneous rescue attempt. By separating the guests, they created confusion and bought the terrorists time to enact revenge for any attempts to restore order.

The room was a long functional conference room with a row of slim windows along the upper edge of the exterior wall that likely held routine civil meetings in more ordinary times. For now, it was their entire world. The hostages were quieter now that the initial shock and awe of the takeover was beginning to fade. Their guards were not brutal in their treatment but were firm in their instructions as they ordered everyone to sit on the floor against the walls.

“Are you ok?” Richard whispered beside her. Olivia nodded wordlessly. She was too busy watching the guards.

Both men had bandoliers of pouches filled with magazines and equipment along with their assault rifles. Their equipment was compact, likely secreted in instrument cases and other innocuous items they could bring in before the event.

Richard saw the look in her eye. “You’re not going to do anything.” he hissed. “I know it’s your job, but you’re only one woman, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Olivia shook her head gently. “I’m just mapping things out,” she muttered. “I’m not planning to do anything silly.”

Richard grasped her hand tightly between them. “You’re not John McClane.”

“I think I have better hair,” Olivia muttered with a slight smile.

Olivia’s eyes were drawn to the windows as she heard the dull beat of helicopter rotors passing low overhead. The cavalry had finally arrived.

Outside the building, the scene was one of organized chaos. Police vehicles were surrounding City Hall and incident command vehicles were beginning to arrive on location. Officers were moving around setting up barriers and tape in a fight to keep back the growing crowd and media circus that was developing once the news had spread.

A tall blonde figure strode purposefully through the officers moving around the scene. Sheriff Reilly marched into the command truck that had arrived moments earlier and regarded the chaotic scene before her. “Update, now.”

While a highly political post, the Sheriff loathed such theater. She was glad this once she had found an excuse not to attend the event being held within their cordon that evening. Otherwise, she’d be hoping someone competent was in charge.

“Ma’am, we’ve not gotten communication inside yet, but we’re informed we have between ten and fifteen armed individuals with high-power rifles holding roughly one hundred and fifty hostages.”

Reilly sighed and sat heavily in one of the chairs and massaged her forehead. This was going to be a very long night.

“SWAT?”

“Enroute ma’am, ten minutes.”

“Have their commander find me the second his boots hit the ground, I want options yesterday.”

She glanced at the monitors on the wall displaying a live feed of the front doors of the building across the block. This was going to be the longest night.

The hostages in the conference room had settled into an uncomfortable silence. There was the occasional comment or muted conversation but most people simply sniffled quietly to themselves.

Olivia glanced around the room cautiously. The group with them was a mix of ages and sexes, no particular effort had been made to separate the young from old, or men from women. She did recognize the Attorney General and his wife on the far side of the room huddled together in fear.

If such a high-value target was here with them, he must of secondary importance. The two men guarding them didn not appear to be particularly concerned about the low level of conversation in the room; they were in charge and they knew it. She noticed them talking into radios occasionally suggesting they had a good level of coordination with their compatriots across the building.

Olivia hugged herself tightly and leaned against Richard’s shoulder. She was frightened but she was still thinking clearly, which was a good sign. She knew what she’d said to Richard, but she wasn’t going to just let people get hurt if she could help it. She would do nothing that might endanger his life, but she was taking in as much as she could all the same. She’d only been on the job a handful of years and she was green, she knew. That wasn’t even counting how extremely rusty she was from her time off. A fire within her belly told her that she wanted to live very badly; she wasn’t going to leave it entirely in other people’s hands. They were never going to see her coming. For the first time in her life, Olivia was going to take her destiny by the horns.

Mike Sanderson was pacing the rotunda, his rifle slung across his shoulder. Five men and two women were on their knees in front of him, Governor Macdill was amongst them.

Sanderson was fifty-three, his body carrying more than a few extra pounds than he had during his army days. He’d witnessed firsthand as his precious US Army had been systematically ruined by politicians and woke initiatives that turned it into a global laughing stock. That hatred finally culminated when his own son, his pride and joy turned out to be a damn fairy. He’d argued with his wife to the point where the woman wanted nothing more to do with him.

They had understood his plight and his passion though, his brothers in the Sonoran Militia had understood everything he told them. They came from all walks of life, men united by a common purpose to defend their rights, fight government overreach, and restore their great nation to its former glory. Many of them were former military like he was. Veterans that gave everything for a nation that didn’t want them once their usefulness was over. Their country took their youth and their blood and gave it over to deviants and liberals intent on forcing their agenda on the world.

“Whatever you want, we can get you but please, let these people go.” Governor Macdill begged, breaking him from his inner monologue.

Sanderson turned toward the man and stroked his mustache. The asshole had the gall to look assertive he thought. This bastard had the cheek to say he valued veterans and patriots yet took their jobs and gave them to immigrants instead.

“I’ll decide when we let anyone go, traitor,” he barked. “Your time has been and gone, now it’s time for patriots to steer this ship once again. When the media gets here you’re going to give a statement and issue a bunch of executive orders to set the path straight before you pay for your crimes.”

Macdill wilted visibly. “I… I can’t issue orders under duress, there’s a chain of command in place. As long as I’m in captivity I have no power.”

“They’ll do it, or you’ll die,” Sanderson answered sharply. “I’m not afraid to die, and I’ll take as many of you with me as it takes. I will go to God with conviction in my heart!”

Olivia shifted uncomfortably. The floor of the conference room was not particularly suitable for spending a long period of time and she was beginning to get restless. They’d been in the conference room for almost an hour now, and the temperament of the hostages had degraded somewhat. Once the fear and shock of the initial takeover had faded, and normality had begun to settle in, more and more people began to speak.

A woman seated on the far side of the room raised her hand as though she were a schoolchild and waved toward one of the guards.

“What?”

The woman appeared suddenly bashful, “I… some of us will need to use the bathroom soon, or this is going to become an unpleasant place to spend any time.”

The guard didn’t reply, but instead muttered into his radio. He listened for a response for a moment before turning back to the woman and nodding.

“Ok, we’ll take everyone in two groups, women, then men.”

The woman seemed satisfied by his response.

After a few moments, a third guard arrived at the door of the conference room and gestured to his compatriots. The decision-maker ordered all the women in the group to stand and head for the door. There were nine, including herself Olivia noted. They were marched in single file out of the room and back along the corridor they had followed to reach the room. Several hallways later, they arrived outside a set of bathrooms on the far end of a corridor amongst what Olivia assumed were municipal offices.

The women were ushered inside and the guard followed them. A few thought to protest the invasion of the bathroom, but changed their minds when the man waved his assault rifle in their general direction.

Taking her turn in one of the three stalls, Olivia sat and did her business. The brief moment of isolation was almost refreshing after being around others for so long. It was only a thin wooden door, but she felt rather irrationally safe. They’d only sent one guard to escort the women, seeing them as a far lower threat to their successful control. This might be the one opportunity she would be afforded to slip away.

Smoothing her dress, Olivia exited the safety of the stall and checked her makeup in the mirror. It seemed entirely normal for a woman to do this, however, it gave her an opportunity to blend in and disappear in the hostage taker’s eyes.

She regarded the man for a moment. He had a shaved head and was neatly dressed, his band uniform consisted of a tuxedo that fitted him well. These weren’t last-minute costumes or a thin charade, these men were organized and appeared to take a pride in what they were doing. His eyes flicked back and forth over the group for any signs of trouble.

Olivia took her place in line and waited whilst the remainder of the group used the bathroom and the guard made to lead them out towards the hallway. She moved in beside Margret Michaels, the Attorney General’s wife, and leaned in close so as to not be heard. “Make a scene when we get outside.” The older woman looked at her sharply, as if questioning the request. She saw the look in her eye, a mixture of fear and uncertainty. Olivia nodded reassuringly and touched her arm, “please.” Margret nodded and returned her gaze to the front.

The guard led them back out into the corridor and started to herd the group back the way they had come. Olivia deliberately remained toward the rear of the group. As she had hoped, Margret threw herself into her role and burst out crying, and collapsed to the floor in hysterics.

The guard’s distraction was momentary, his attention focused on Mrs. Michaels and her wails. Olivia moved quickly and slipped through a doorway into the darkened interior of an office and pushed herself under a nearby desk.

Outside she could hear the muted wails through the door and the gruff orders of the guard. It was clear he’d lost his control over the group and was trying to reassert order.

Olivia briefly considered interceding with the distracted guard but changed her mind almost immediately. That terrorist would be missed sooner than later and she would have eight hostages on her hands to protect, not an ideal situation.

She lay silently in the dark until the voices quietened down and she heard the group moving away toward the conference room. She breathed a sigh of relief; she hadn’t been missed. She felt a brief pang of sadness as she thought of Richard. She hadn’t said a word to the man about her intentions, hell she’d almost promised not to get involved. She shook her head. This was her job, she had no choice, he would understand.

Once the sounds of footsteps had vanished, she crawled out from under the desk and slipped off her shoes and jewelry to reduce the chances that anything that might sparkle or make noise.

Her priorities were clear; make contact with the outside and gather information. These were highly organized armed men that had run through the Governor’s security like they were mall cops. There was no way she was going to take them on directly, it would be suicide.

Olivia tried one of the desk phones in the office and received the expected silence that confirmed her suspicion; the phone lines were down; it was what she would have done herself in their situation. She glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration to strike. The place appeared to be a planning office of some sort with rolls of charts and map tables dominating the space. She started searching the desks and drawers for anything that might be of use. Most of the desks she searched were useless, containing only office supplies or personal effects but the final one had been abandoned by someone in a hurry, possibly someone working late and it had a backpack and jacket tucked neatly beside it.

Olivia rifled through the items and struck gold. Inside the jacket, she found a cell phone and recovered a small penknife and flashlight from the bag.

Clutching her treasure, she tucked herself in behind the desk and tried the phone. It was locked.
She cursed and mashed the buttons in disappointment. There was no way she could unlock it before it became a useless paperweight in her hands. There was a pack of cigarettes in the jacket along with a lighter. She hadn’t smoked in a couple of years. It had been something she picked up when she first started performing and had ditched shortly after, it had helped her with the long nights and lack of sleep.

Feeling deflated she tapped one out of the packet and lit the cigarette before inhaling deeply. She felt the wave of nicotine flood her system as she sat there in the darkness staring at the one brief flash of hope she’d had. She tossed the phone onto the floor and watched it bounce across the thin carpet. The movement must have hit one of the external buttons because the phone’s power-off screen lit up and Olivia recognized one of the buttons on the screen: EMERGENCY SOS.

How could she have been so stupid? All cell phones had an emergency mode that bypassed the lock system that could dial 911. She slid the button across the touchscreen and held the phone to her ear; it was ringing.

“911, Police or Fire?”

“Police, please.”

There was a momentary click as the call redirected. Olivia tapped out the cigarette on the floor with a grimace. She really didn’t miss those things.

“911, can you tell me what’s happening?”

“My name is Olivia Dalton, Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department badge 2628, I’m in city hall, and I need to be connected to whoever is in charge over there.”

“Ma’am, standby.” The voice of the dispatcher was calm and showed no surprise at her request and efficiently processed her call. “Ma’am, we’re transferring you to the command post, please hold.”

Olivia waited, the phone rang for what seemed like an eternity before it was finally picked up.

“Who is this?” a male voice asked sharply.

“Deputy Dalton, 2628. I’m off duty and I’m inside the building.”

“You are? Where are you? Are you safe?” the voice asked.

Olivia began to repeat what she’d seen and what had happened, explaining her slipping away from the hostages, the gunmen, their number, and disposition. The man seemed to take notes before he explained that he was handing the phone over to someone else.

“Dalton, you’re not even back to work yet and you’re already neck deep in the crap,” a familiar female voice remarked. Sheriff Reilly, Olivia realized, she must be in command out there.

“I was here as a guest ma’am,” Olivia explained weakly feeling as though she were being chastised by a teacher.

“Whatever the reason, I don’t need you going all Buck Rodgers on me Dalton, this is serious shit. I want you to keep your head down and pass on whatever you’re able to when you can, do I make myself clear?”

“Roy Rodgers Ma’am.”

“What?”

Olivia smiled in the darkness. “John McClane referenced Roy Rodgers in the first DieHard movie Ma’am, Buck Rodgers was a Science Fiction character.”

She heard a huff on the other end of the phone. “Whatever, just keep your head down.”

Olivia agreed and ended the call. If she needed them, she would go through the emergency 911 system again and be forwarded on. It wasn’t perfect but at least it was communication. She looked down at her stocking feet and wiggled her toes. She had far better legs than Bruce Willis, that was for sure.

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

Richard was worried. He’d seen the women return to the conference room and didn’t see Olivia with them. He wanted to ask what they’d done to her but thought better of it. He had a pretty good idea of what had happened and he was sick with worry. As the men had been led from the room for their chance to use the bathroom, Margret Michaels had put her hand on his arm and nodded briefly as he’d passed. Olivia was fine, that's what she had meant. It was a relief to know for sure, but it didn’t alleviate his fear in the slightest.

The two guards had led them to the bathroom and back. Richard hadn’t needed to go but went through the motions regardless. Once they were returned to the conference room, the third man who had remained to watch the other hostages left them and set off to patrol the corridors.

Olivia slipped her new prizes into the top of her dress. One thing could be said for women's formalwear, it certainly could carry far more than people realized.

She eased open the office door and listened for a moment. The corridor was silent and dark, many of the lights having been extinguished throughout the building. Slipping into the corridor, she retraced her steps toward the center of the building, hoping to find out more about what was going on. She’d mentioned the threat of boobytraps to the Sheriff and needed to get a look at one of the devices to try to help them if she could.

The building was massive. There was no way the terrorists could guard every exit, which meant the traps were likely a well-publicized threat to not only the hostages but the police outside. If she could get them valuable information, she might be able to help them end this sooner.

Finding a stairwell, Olivia listened for a moment, her ears straining for the slightest sound of movement. Believing the coast to be clear, she started to descend toward the ground floor. She’d managed to reach the second-floor landing when she heard the sound of a door open below her. Rapidly she began to retrace her steps until she was able to find a door to slip through on the landing above.

The corridor was black and there were few doorways nearby so she flattened herself against the wall and waited in silence, her heart beating so loudly she feared it would give her away. The footsteps grew louder as they ascended the stairs outside the door before stopping right outside her door. She held her breath, not even daring to breathe lest she give her hiding place away. The door opened slightly, and an unseen hand held it for a moment before pulling it closed. She could hear the sound of a zip tie being fastened before the footsteps resumed and she was swallowed by silence once again.

Letting out her breath, she tried the door. Whatever the unseen person had done, it was now secured and she had little hope of returning the way she’d come. It was impossible to see in the darkened corridor, so she extracted the small flashlight from the top of her dress and switched it on.

The corridor ahead appeared to be deserted and was flanked by a sparse number of closed doors. Each door she passed, she tried but found them to all be locked. They appeared to be records storage as far as she could tell. Pressing onward, she rounded a corner and found herself in a wider section of corridor flanked by offices. Like before, she found most to be locked but the final doorway had light emanating from beneath it.

Glancing through the small window carefully, she saw that it looked out over a balcony surrounding a large circular ornate space, the rotunda at the center of the building she realized. The door was unlocked, so Olivia opened it carefully and listened.

Down below, she could hear an angry voice echoing slightly within the chamber. The conversation appeared one-sided, so she assumed it was a phone call. Crouching down low, she slipped out onto the dimly lit balcony and looked through the stone railing down to the space below.

A large man in a tuxedo with a rifle on his shoulder was pacing back and forth, with a cell phone to his ear. He was jabbing angrily at a line of hostages as he spoke, his temper flaring.

“I want someone that can make decisions in his place then. I want my demands met or I’m going to start executing hostages, starting with this traitor’s most valuable guests.”

“Yes now… No, You have an hour.”

Olivia could see two other men with him, assault rifles held easily in their hands as they flanked the kneeling hostages. She recognized the Governor and two of his colleagues, the Mayor and the women she assumed to be their wives.

The man’s tone grew darker. “If you haven’t met my first demand within twenty minutes, I will kill three hostages, do not test me.”

Mike Sanderson ran his hand over his bald head and cursed. The negotiators were messing him around and playing for time, he knew their games. He had demanded a feed for a live press conference but they were claiming that it was impossible under the current circumstances unless they were able to secure the release of some of the hostages. He knew it was bullshit but he was in a corner.

He’d given them a deadline, they’d have to pick.

“Mister Sanderson, what do we do if they don’t give us the feed?” one of the men next to the leader asked.

“They will, or we’ll start killing hostages as we promised. We’re in this for the ride, we follow through.”

His radio crackled.

“Sir, we’ve got a small issue.”

“What?” snapped Sanderson.

“We’re missing one of the hostages from the upstairs group probably got lost. Some chick wandered off. They only noticed when we did a count. I’m searching offices now.”

Sanderson kicked at a discarded champagne glass, feeling satisfaction when it shattered against a pillar.

“Don’t fucking come back without the bitch,” he growled, “no loose ends.”

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat when she realized they were talking about her. She slid back from the edge of the banister and made her way around the balcony in a low crouch attempting to keep herself in the shadows. There was a door on the far side, which mercifully, was also unlocked. Olivia slipped inside and slowly shut it behind her to prevent any sound from giving her away.

The game was taking a darker turn. Hostages' lives were being threatened and the man down below sounded unstable and motivated. Those were never a good combination in a crisis. When she’d been at the academy, they’d given the cadets a course in basic negotiation and de-escalation skills. It wasn’t anything compared to what was likely happening outside with the specialist teams that she knew must be on scene, but it was enough to give her a brief insight into the man’s state of mind.

The man downstairs, Sanderson, was in charge. He was politically motivated and he wanted a platform. The negotiators were following the standard protocol of give and receive; for every demand, there would be a request or concession politely demanded in exchange. She’d seen them kill when they first took over the building, she had no doubt the man’s threats to kill hostages were very real.

Slipping into a darkened office, she hit the emergency button on the cell phone and was put through to the Sheriff outside.

“Dalton, update me.”

“Ma’am, I was able to get a look at the Governor; he’s alive as is the Mayor and a few other VIPs. As far as I can tell none of the guests have been harmed yet. We have a number of fatalities amongst the Governor’s security detail, these guys are not afraid to kill. Tell the Negotiators if they’re threatening lives, they mean it.”

“Slow down Dalton.” the sheriff reassured her. “Slow down, and take a breath. Are you secure where you are?”

“For now.”

Olivia leaned her head back against the cool wall behind her and glanced toward the window outside. Emergency lights were lighting up the ceiling in a kaleidoscope of red and blue.

“Ma’am, I need to do something, these guys are really serious.”

The Sheriff spoke to someone off the line before returning. “Dalton, stay out of the way, we’re going to comply with their demands for now and try and get people released in the meanwhile. Stay useful and stay away from them. We’re having the phone company remotely unlock the handset you’re on, get us pictures of their devices on the doors if you can. We’re sending this number to you.”

Olivia hung up and watched as the phone shut down and began to reboot. Once it came back, it was fully unlocked and appeared to be back to its factory defaults. A text message blinked onto the screen with a number.

Suddenly she didn’t feel quite as alone. She looked down at her dress. The silk material of the skirt was dirty and creased. She felt a little disappointed that she didn’t get to spend her perfect evening with Richard, even if it was going to be mostly schmoozing with politicians.

Thinking about Richard made it worse for her. She now had someone to lose if this went wrong. it wasn’t impersonal and professional and she would struggle to act with a clear head knowing he was at risk. She knew she had to put that to the back of her mind, but life wasn’t that simple. With a sigh, she took out the penknife from her dress and slit the side of her perfect skirt up to mid-thigh. She could get another dress if she survived.

She made her way back to the door and listened carefully before slipping back into the corridor and making her way back into the darkness.

Sheriff Reilly was speaking with the negotiators when the commander of the SWAT team finally arrived at her base of operations.

She glanced at her watch and frowned. “About damn time you folks got here. I assume you’re up to speed already?”

The commander shook the Sheriff’s hand and grimaced, expressing his feelings at the scale of the situation they found themselves in. “Ready for whatever is necessary, Bomb Squad on the way?”

The Sheriff nodded before letting her guard down for a moment and speaking less formally. “Alex this is rough, they’ve got us by the throat here. They’re heavily armed, political and we believe, military trained.”

“Did I hear you have someone inside? a Deputy?” The commander asked with interest.

The Sheriff nodded and sipped her coffee. “Yeah, off duty, she was here as a guest. The poor thing’s been off the last six months recovering from a line of duty-shooting.”

The SWAT Commander smiled darkly at the irony of the situation, “Some people’s luck just sucks.”

Reilly nodded and accepted a report from one of the staff in the command center. “They’ve not had the best time of things, that’s for sure.”

The woman appeared older than her years in the harsh light of the command center. The Sheriff looked worried.

Olivia crept along the hallway sticking to the shadows. She’d managed to get to the ground floor and was working her way through the rear corridors of the building, far from the activity in the central rotunda. These areas of City Hall weren’t part of the public-facing areas of the building but instead, the beating heart that made the city operate.

From the map she’d found on a stairwell a few minutes ago, she should be approaching an exit to the exterior that would have what she needed to send to the people depending on her. Thirty meters further down the corridor, she found the fire escape she’d been looking for. It was one of the heavy metal doors with a central push bar found all around the world to expedite exits in the event of an emergency. This one however would spell doom if it was used for it’s intended purpose.

Olivia checked the corridor was clear before turning on her flashlight and examining the device attached to the door. It was a compact and simple affair consisting of a lump of plastic explosive and a blasting cap attached to a length of fishing wire that was hooked around the bar and crossed the edge of the frame. The device was brutal in its simplicity; if the door moved, whoever was nearby wouldn’t exist anymore.

She took out her phone and began to take photographs to send back to the others. There was a reasonable chance the devices were all similarly crafted. If the line was pulled, the cap detonated sending a spark through to the main charge. She wasn’t an explosives expert, but she’d seen enough movies to understand the basic concept.

Switching off the light, she stashed it before focusing her attention on the phone. She began attaching the images to a message and was in the process of sending it to the number she’d been given when she heard the footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Her heart racing, Olivia moved quickly to find refuge in one of the offices off the main hall but was met by only locked doors at every turn. She began to feel her panic turn to a cold dread as she saw a flashlight play around the corner ahead of her. Like a deer in headlights, she stood frozen in the light beam.

“There you are.” the voice growled, its owner marching towards her in the shadow created by the flashlight.

A hand attached to the gruff voice reached out and grabbed her arm, “was wondering where you got off to.”

The man noticed the cell phone in her hands. “What are you up to? Trying to call for help? Give me that.” he barked reaching out to snatch the device.

Olivia reacted on instinct as the man stooped to grab at her lowered hand. She twisted in his grasp and brought her knee up into his sternum with everything she possessed.

The man gasped and doubled over, releasing her from his grip. She dropped the phone to the floor and took hold of the arm that had been holding her moments earlier and hooked her leg behind his knee. The man fell hard, his own body weight acting as a pivot as he tumbled backward onto the floor.

Olivia didn’t waste a moment and lept onto the man swinging punches at his face trying anything to stun the man. The gun he had with him was still hooked to a sling across his chest, she had to keep close or he’d be able to use it against her.

As she sat astride the man swinging wildly she flashed back to that fateful afternoon six months ago and saw the face of the man she’d fought for control of a different gun. She lost her focus and stopped hitting the man, her body locked in fear. The main bucked his hips and threw her to the side. Olivia crashed into the floor and felt the breath leave her body.

The man scrambled to his feet swearing and spitting. “I’m going to fucking kill you cunt.” he snarled grasping at his rifle. The man raised the weapon like a club as he reared over her. Olivia stared blankly up at the man, her face a mask of fear. She attempted to crawl away from the man on her back, unable to look away from the looming figure. She felt a metallic object move inside the bodice of her dress and suddenly remembered the knife. In the poor light of the corridor, the man never saw her pull the blade out and flick it open.

As the man reached down and moved to grab at Olivia’s hair he finally saw the flash of the knife coming up toward him. Olivia swung the blade with every molecule of her strength. She knew it was her last chance to survive.

The knife buried itself to the hilt in the side of the man’s neck. Olivia twisted and yanked at the blade ripping it out of the stunned terrorist’s flesh. There was a spray of blood and the man dropped to his knees grasping at the ragged wound with his hands in a feeble attempt to stem the flow. He stared at her blankly for a moment before collapsing sideways onto the floor.

Olivia sat with her back against the far wall staring at the dead man for several minutes until her heart rate could return back to normal. She had just killed a man. It had been her life or his she knew, but that couldn’t begin to quieten the feeling that what she had done was very wrong.

She swallowed hard and stared at her hands. They weren’t shaking, they looked steady and even, they looked wet and dark with the man’s blood. She should feel worse she knew, but as her pulse returned to normal she felt the fear start to become anger. Anger at what they were doing and anger at herself for her misstep.

Olivia pulled herself up and mentally chastised herself. There was time for tears later and this was not the place. Stepping over the body, she removed the man’s rifle and checked the magazine; it was fully loaded. The rifle was a short-barreled carbine, it was exactly like the one’s she’d trained on and carried every day in her car.

With some difficulty, she removed his belt of magazine pouches and equipment. A quick inventory of her new gear showed she had plenty of ammunition, a radio, and two flash grenades.

Olivia slung the belt over her shoulder like a bandolier and took the rifle in her hands. She glanced at the body on the tiled floor and said a silent prayer for her soul. She had a bad feeling that he wouldn’t be the only one tonight.

Stooping, she picked up the discarded cellphone and typed a quick message before sending the attached photographs.

One less, me or him, armed. Suspect One SANDERSON. Dalton.

Stowing the cell phone in one of the pouches, she caught sight of herself in one of the darkened office windows. Backlit by pale moonlight from the slim exterior windows behind her, her reflection looked almost supernatural. Her hair was a mess and her dress was bloody but somehow the pale glow made her look like a vengeful angel. A Valkyrie sent to bring death to the unworthy. She thrust out her chin and smiled, she was done being afraid.

The police held up their end of the bargain and Internet connectivity was returned to the building shortly after Ten that evening. Sanderson and his men began to put their plans into effect.

The Governor was given a script and shoved up onto the stage behind his podium. This wasn’t the joyful campaign speech that he’d planned to give filled with hope and promises for the future of the state. It was not anything he would say in his public or private life but the armed men gave him little chance to refuse. An armed cameraman gave him a signal and the Governor held the edges of the podium to stop himself from shaking as he began to read.

“My Fellow Californians, my name is Governor Macdill. I’m here tonight to read a statement prepared for me by American patriots who want you to know the truth. For many years, we have systematically broken down the moral fabric of these United States. Nowhere more so than here in California. Our policies and laws have been targeted to cripple and limit the freedom of our citizens and promote the liberal agenda at each step. I implore the State Senate to impeach me, and elect a true American Patrot that will restore glory to these lands and free our people from the immigrants, homosexuals, and freedom-hating people that have their boot to the neck of you all.”

Governor Macdill swallowed hard. “If these demands are not met, I will be executed in three hours along with the Mayor. Good night.”

The camera stopped broadcasting and Sanderson stepped out from behind the operator.

“Excellent work Governor. Let’s hope your lackeys are brave enough to follow your words and make a stand for America.”

The Governor felt old, his body frail. He stared at the hateful man before him and shook his head. “They’ll never do it,” he muttered feebly. “They won’t give in to your demands.”

Sanderson smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant expression, but more akin to the look a predator gives its prey before it strikes. “Then you’ll die tonight, Governor Macdill.”

Olivia crept along the corridor. She’d somehow managed to make her way back to the eighth floor without being noticed and no alarm had been raised yet over the missing terrorist. She had one of their radios now and she could hear their chatter. The men were organized and efficient, nothing extraneous was said over the frequency, and the airwaves were kept relatively quiet. There had been mention of the police restoring the internet and the Governor’s broadcast to the public; that meant her time would be limited.

Her first priority was Richard. She knew it was selfish and irrational but she had to make sure he was ok. She’d overheard the broadcast the Governor had made and she knew they’d never follow the demands. Her time was limited and she had to make sure that he was safe before she acted. She didn’t have a plan, but she was certain that she could find something by the time she reached the room where they had been held. If even a handful of hostages and Richard were safe, she could act with a clearer conscience.

She passed the bathroom where she’d slipped away from the group and retraced her steps toward the conference room, the rifle in her hands. The dark corridors felt like a mausoleum to her. The oppressive silence inside the thick walls of the building made her every sound feel like a cacophony of noise.

Reaching the room, she pressed herself against the wall outside and listened. She couldn’t make out much, but there was a low level of conversation inside. There had been two terrorists guarding the group earlier, but had the third left? She wasn’t sure. The door had a frosted glass window that made seeing inside impossible. She considered using the flash grenades she’d taken from the dead terrorist but decided against such a loud option. She wasn’t sure if there was backup nearby or what it would do to the other hostages. She had to find a way to neutralise them quietly or she could get them all killed.

Opening a nearby door she slipped inside the darkened office and searched for something she could use to make a noise. If there was something strange, they’d have to investigate, but they wouldn’t leave the hostages alone; if she could separate the terrorists, she had a chance to stop them quietly. Her eyes settled on a computer monitor on the edge of one of the desks and shrugged before shoving it off onto the floor.

The device clattered to the floor causing an almighty racket in the silent space. She tucked herself into the gap behind the door and held her breath. She didn’t have to wait long. After a few moments, she heard footsteps approaching and saw the partially open door creak open toward her. A flashlight played around the interior of the room, glinting off the window on the far side. She saw a dark shape through the frosted glass of the window and held her breath.

The man stepped into the room and played the flashlight over the desks until he saw the shattered monitor on the tile floor. His moment of focus was his undoing. Olivia lept from behind the door and swung the rifle like a bat catching the man in the back of his head. He hit the floor with a dull thud and didn’t move again. Realizing he’d be missed soon, she acted quickly. The men had been prepared for hostages and their gear contained plastic zip ties which she now used to secure the unconscious terrorist on the floor. She leaned his rifle against the wall by the door and stepped back out into the corridor.

Returning to the conference room, she saw the door was partially ajar now. Light was bleeding out into the corridor ahead of her casting a beam across the far wall. A quick glance showed her the other man was watching the hostages, his focus on them, not his comrade’s whereabouts yet. Olivia steeled herself and flipped the safety off the rifle in her hands and took a deep breath. Her hands felt clammy against the weapon, this was everything, all or nothing. Shoving the door, she rounded the corner and raised the rifle towards the remaining terrorist.

“Drop the fucking weapon or you’re dead.” she snarled.

The man had turned at the sound of the door, he had clearly been expecting his friend’s return. There was a look of shock in his eyes when he registered the angry blonde in a bloody gown pointing a rifle at his face. He dropped the weapon and threw his hands up, his face a mask of shock. Some of the hostages gasped and screamed but quickly recovered when they saw she wasn’t one of the terrorists.

“Turn around get on your knees, now.” she barked not giving him time to think. The man quickly complied and clasped his hands behind his head. Olivia stepped forward and kicked him squarely in the back, knocking him forward onto his stomach. “Hands behind your back,” she ordered as she tossed a pair of zip ties to one of the men closest to her. “Tie him up.” she gestured with her free hand. The man hesitated before following her instructions and securing the man’s hands.

Olivia pulled the rifle away from the now prostrate terrorist and lowered her own, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“What the hell going on?” Attorney General Michaels was the first to speak, the older man unsure how to process what he was witnessing.

“This…” Olivia gestured theatrically, “is a rescue. Sorry I’m late.”

Richard was by her before she could respond and pulled her into a tight hug.

“My god, you’re ok. I was so worried,” Richard gasped kissing her forehead. He pulled back and glanced at her bloody dress and looked concerned, “are you hurt?”

Olivia stroked his cheek and kissed him before shaking her head. “I’m fine, it’s not my blood. I’m just glad you’re ok. I know I said I wouldn’t do anything but I saw an opportunity and I couldn’t sit here.” she admitted sheepishly.

“You’re brave and stupid and beautiful,” Richard whispered in her ear letting her go. “Just stay alive for me ok?” Olivia nodded and released his hand.

“What about the other one?” Michaels asked getting to his feet, interrupting their moment.

“Asleep next door,” Olivia explained. “These two and one more downstairs.”

“You’ve taken down three of them?” Another man she didn’t know asked incredulously looking at her aghast. “How on earth?”

Olivia smiled reassuringly. “I’m a cop, it’s my job.”

“What do we do now?” Michaels asked, his confidence returning. “There are more of them I assume?”

Shaking her head, Olivia removed the detained man’s equipment. “Nothing at all. I want you all to stay here where you’re safe. I’ll need a few of you to drag sleeping beauty from next door back in here. There are two weapons here now, so I need two volunteers who have used a gun before.”

Several of the men retrieved the unconscious terrorist from the office and dragged him through into the conference room. Olivia gave them a brief rundown on the rifles the men had carried and showed them what she wanted them to do with them. Her plan was to leave the group here, a safe place where they could defend themselves if necessary. A known location where the police could find them when it was time. Richard had protested that he wanted to go with her but Olivia turned him down explaining that she was able to move more freely by herself. His pride had been a little tarnished but he understood; this was her world, not his.

Her world; that was a funny thought. She wasn’t a veteran cop or former military with a special background. In reality, she was barely anyone in the grand scheme of things. All she knew was that this was something she had to do whether it got her hurt or worse. She had no choice but to step in and do what she could because that was the job she had signed up to do. It wasn’t a new feeling for her, she felt that every day. It had, however, never burned this strongly within her. Part of her wanted to run and hide, play it safe, but her own experiences over the last few months told her it was wrong to run. She had to stand and fight for what mattered now.

She kissed Richard one last time and looked pleadingly into his eyes as their bodies separated. She hoped that there was something in there that understood why she had to go.

“I get it,” he whispered stoically. “I love you, come back to me.”

Olivia nodded and glanced around the room at the other hostages. “Stay quiet, and keep your heads down.”

With that, she slipped back out into the corridor and vanished.

Sanderson was annoyed. The Police had given them the network connection for the Governor’s broadcast and they’d released twenty unimportant hostages, but now they were stalling again. He was going to have to prove his resolve and make them listen.

Maybe he’d use that runaway hostage as an example. He lifted his radio to his mouth and pressed the button.

“Twelve, One, You round up our missing guest?”

There was nothing but static on the other end of the radio.

“Twelve come in.”

There was still no response. Sanderson cursed.

“He was out looking for the straggler boss, he’s not checked in, was up on eight before with the group there.” One of Sanderson’s men offered.

Mike Sanderson wasn’t keen on lacking discipline. He’d deal with him later. “Fourteen, Thirteen, You boys seen Twelve recently?”

The radio was silent. Now he was getting concerned.

“Fourteen, Thirteen.”

Sanderson checked a few of his other men and got responses. “I don’t like this.” he muttered before keying the radio again. “Nine, Ten, go check on Thirteen and Fourteen.”

The men confirmed their orders curtly and signed off. Sanderson kicked the Mayor out of frustration as he passed. The man’s yelp made him feel better but it wouldn’t quieten the feeling that his well-laid plans were beginning to show cracks.

He checked his watch. Two hours and he would execute the traitor.

Olivia slipped inside an office near the stairwell and pulled out the cell phone. She dialed the number and waited while it rang twice before it was picked up. “Dalton.” She heard the Sheriff’s voice over the line.

“Here Ma’am. Did the pictures help?”

“Absolutely, our EOD guys have got a plan worked out to handle them, you’ve helped a great deal.”

Olivia noticed a pair of sneakers under one of the desks she was pacing past and pumped her fist happily.

Reilly continued, her voice more serious. “What was that text message? What did you mean?”

“I got caught by one of them, we fought, and he lost, I have his weapon and radio. It wasn’t planned but I did what I had to.”

“You ok?” a note of concern crept into the voice on the phone.

Olivia didn’t answer for a moment while she tried on the sneakers. They were a little large, but they would do. “I’ll cry later. I have good news though. I was able to get back to where I’d been held and I have two of them detained up there. Twenty hostages are secure including the AG on the eighth floor, conference room, east wing.”

The line was silent for a moment, Olivia checked she still had a connection. “Ma’am?”

“I said no Buck Rodgers,” the Sheriff replied tersely.

“Roy Rodgers.”

“Whatever,” she sighed. “Thank you… I guess. Please for the love of god, no more. I don’t want you to end up dead in there.”

“What would you do Ma’am?”

“That’s irrelevant. You’re not even back to work yet and you’re going to get yourself killed. I appreciate what you’ve done, but you should do what I say, not what I do.”

She noticed flashlights outside in the corridor coming up the stairs. Olivia smiled in the darkness. “yippee ki-yay Ma’am.”

“I swear to god Dalt…”

Olivia ended the call and tucked herself in against the door. She heard footsteps moving up to the landing and turning down the corridor away from her. She’d heard the radio transmission earlier and she knew they were likely going to check on the ones the ring leader had called Thirteen and Fourteen. She figured Twelve was the man she’d killed on the ground floor. She had their numbers scrawled on the back of her hand. This had to be Nine and Ten.

There was no way she could take two of them in the corridor without shooting, she had to separate them and somehow keep them away from the conference room. An idea began to form in her mind. It bordered on insane, but it might just work.

She ripped the door open and sprinted across the corridor for the stairs. She was making a racket, but she was counting on it. She made sure to drag the rifle barrel against the banister as she descended, the clattering sound drew the attention of the men along the corridor as she’d hoped. The radio chirped. “Got eyes on the runaway hostage, we’re after them.” a voice barked.

Olivia ran down the stairs two at a time. She needed to find a place with enough hiding places that the men would need to split up to find her. She had seen a cafeteria on the third floor she hoped would be her salvation. Reaching the correct landing she slipped through the doorway and sprinted down the corridor into the expansive dining area. Her eyes scanned the interior she’d only briefly noticed earlier.The darkened room could seat perhaps a hundred people at capacity and was filled with chairs and tables. She made for the serving window and threw herself over the counter as the footsteps thundered into the room behind her.

Olivia flattened herself against the metal cabinets as the two men came to a stop in the center of the room.

“Go check the kitchen, I’ll carry on and see if they continued.” one man said to the other. “I’ll radio if I find her.”

“You got it.”

She heard one set of footsteps fade followed by the sound of a door opening and closing. Olivia got low and crawled deeper into the kitchen to find a better ambush location.

The kitchen door swung open and a flashlight played across the polished steel surfaces. Footsteps slapped loudly against the ceramic tile floor as their owner entered the room. Olivia tucked herself into a gap between a cabinet and a massive industrial refrigerator and held her breath. The man walked across the kitchen shining the flashlight back and forth just behind the counter. He was checking under the worksurfaces and any gap he could reasonably imagine a person hiding.

Olivia spotted a rack of utensils to her side and grabbed a spatula. She tossed the object across the room hearing the clang of metal on metal as it struck something in the darkness. The flashlight snapped in the direction of the sound and she pounced. The man was three meters from her when she got a good look at him. He was tall, over six feet. She raised the rifle and jabbed it toward his head. The man’s reactions were fast and he was turning towards her when the rifle came flying at him. It clipped his head along the side a glancing blow that dissipated some of its force. It wasn’t enough to knock him out but it stunned him for a few seconds.

He swung wildly at Olivia, his hand knocking the rifle to the ground with a clatter. Olivia remembered Anderson’s words “use their strength against them.” She ducked low under a wild arm and brought her elbow up into the man’s chin. He staggered back dazed, a look of rage in his face. The man bellowed and charged, she tried to sidestep and aim a kick for his knee but her timing was off and the man knocked her flying.

Olivia smashed head-first into a counter and fell to the floor, pain exploding through her body. The man lept on her before she had a chance to recover and tried to pin her to the ground. Olivia bucked her hips and unsettled the man’s balance. She kicked upwards and connected with his groin. The man groaned and grasped his genitals. Olivia wasted no time and scrambled clear. She made it to her feet in time for the man to recover and squared off facing him.

“You’ve got fucking spirit I’ll give you that,” the terrorist growled. “I’m going to fuck you before I kill you cunt.”

Olivia shook her head and grinned, blood from her lip giving her a manic look. “You’re not my type honey.”

The man started toward her and wound up a well-telegraphed punch. Olivia sidestepped him and twisted her body around grabbing at a plate on the counter. The man turned, just in time to see a ceramic dinner plate flying at his head. The plate connected and the man crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Olivia stood panting for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She wiped at the blood dripping from her chin with the back of her hand. “I really want to make a witty one-liner but I’m too fucking sore,” she muttered under her breath. Pausing, she smirked in the darkness. “Fuck it; Dinner is served asshole.”

Nursing sore ribs and what she expected was going to be a monumental collection of bruises, she zip-tied and gagged the unconscious terrorist.

The radio chirped, “Ten, you got anything? I’m coming back.”

Olivia stared at the radio uncertain of what to do. If the man didn’t receive an answer he would be suspicious and that destroyed her edge. A thought popped into her head and she smiled to herself. Dropping her voice as low as she could, she held the radio behind a row of metal utensils to try and create static and spoke.

“Got her Nine, we’re good here.”

“Got it, coming back.”

He bought it. Olivia grimaced at the voice she’d used and tossed the radio.

When the other terrorist returned to the dining room the way he’d come, he never saw the rifle that hit him in the back of the head.

One of the men came jogging up to Sanderson. “Sir we have a problem.”

“What now?” he snapped.

“I found Twelve, he’s fucking dead sir. Some asshole stabbed him.”

Sanderson cursed. “Who the fuck did that? And why aren’t those idiots answering?

“Sir it’s worse, his weapon and gear are gone.”

Someone had killed one of his men, and now had access to their radios. Had they been listening to them this whole time?

“Where are Nine and Ten?”

The man shook his head and seemed uncertain.

Sanderson held up his radio and pressed the talk button.

“Who out there is running around with one of my radios?”

There was silence on the other end as static hung in the air.

“Answer me god damn it or I’m going to start shooting people.”

There was more static, and then a sultry feminine voice came over the radio’s speaker. Several of the hostages suddenly paid rapt attention to the surprising development.

“Now that’s not a very polite way to get a lady’s attention.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Sanderson seethed.

“Now that would be telling.” said the voice. “I’m sorry we’re not on first-name terms yet. Why don’t you call me… Valkyrie.”

“I’m not playing fucking games with you, give yourself up or I’m going to start executing people.”

The voice sounded playful. “Why would you burn your only resource, Mister Sanderson?” Can’t handle one little girl? I’d think you boys would be more than enough to handle a little kink in your plans. The way I count it, you’re down fourty hostages and five men. I don’t think you can spare any more to come looking for little old me.”

Mike Sanderson felt the blood drain from his face. Five of his men were gone? How? The hostages? How did they know his name? There were too many questions and no way the teasing voice was going to tell him. He glanced around, paranoia growing.

“Look, Mister Sanderson. I’d love to stop and chat but I’ve got an appointment I need to keep, I’m sure you understand.”

“Fuck you cunt, I don’t know who the fuck you are but I’m going to fucking kill you.” he screamed.

The voice was gone, only static remained. Sanderson was livid.

“Did you hear that?” The communications officer asked turning around in his chair. It hadn’t taken the technicians long to scan frequencies within the vicinity and pick up the comms channel the men were using. They’d been vague and indirect until that point, nothing had been given away as though they were aware they could have listened in on.

The SWAT commander took his headset off and smirked.

“Don’t even start Alex.” The Sheriff muttered removing her own.

“That’s quite the little pest you have running around in there.”

“Don’t I know it,” Reilly snapped. “It’s beginning to complicate matters. We’re getting good intel but she can’t seem to keep out of trouble.”

“If five of them are out of action that simplifies matters a lot for my guys. Think we can help them?”

The Sheriff shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea.”

Comments are the lifeblood of authors. Please leave a comment with your thoughts/feelings and I'll answer! Let me know what you think!

Life and Love are far more complicated than we can possibly understand. For one young cop, a journey of self-discovery will teach them that true strength was inside them all along.

Olivia smiled and clipped the radio back to the bandolier across her chest. She’d managed to get firmly under Sanderson’s skin. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but she’d felt so out of control that she needed to claw something back to give her the confidence to continue. She needed to unsettle him if she was going to stand any chance alone against this army. Men that were off balance made irrational decisions, clear-headed men made smart ones. She didn’t need him to be smart.

What was more important was what he didn’t say. When she suggested he didn’t have men to spare to come after her he hadn’t corrected her. He was stretched thin now and on the back foot. His threat to kill hostages was relatively empty. Now she had to make it entirely flaccid.

She dialed the command center.

“What are you playing at?” The Sheriff barked into the phone.

“Oh, you heard that?” Olivia asked innocently.

“Yes, I damn well heard that, you’re putting people in danger Dalton.”

“They’re already in danger Ma’am, at least now we know enough to do something about it.”

Olivia could hear cogs turning on the other end of the phone. “We’ve identified four rooms we know are holding groups of hostages. I spoke to our EOD guys a few minutes ago. The traps can be disarmed by simply cutting the wire without moving the firing pin. If you can get our guys inside, we can hopefully snatch most of them before they realize what’s going on. If you’re up to it that is?”

Olivia touched her bleeding lip carefully and winced. “Yeah, I can do that.”

After hanging up the phone, Olivia sat silently for a moment. How the hell in her life had she ended up here? How had that shy skinny boy from a year ago found themselves where she was today? She glanced down at her ruined dress and felt a pang of sadness. Tonight was meant to be magical. A chance for her to spend time with Richard and get to know the circles he moved in. Now she was here all by herself. She was in pain and she was tired. Would it all be over soon?

She pulled herself to her feet and lent against the desk for a moment to steady herself. She had a job to do now and she could bring this hell to an end.

Olivia hurried down the stairwell as quietly as she could manage. She was relatively sure the corridors would be clear but it never paid to be reckless. She held the rifle low, ready to use it if she had to, she had a clear objective now and it was time to do her part to make it happen. She wasn’t foolish enough to think she could do this by herself. She might have joked about John McClane but she wasn’t any kind of hero.

Exiting the stairwell on the ground floor she swept the corner with her weapon before entering the long back hallway. They’d identified a service door on the rear of the building and would be waiting for her outside.

Olivia reached the door and checked to see if the coast was clear. Satisfied she was alone, she set her rifle on the ground and crouched by the device attached to the back of the door. She took out her knife and did her best to stabilize the pin on the blasting cap with her fingers. With a deep breath she brought the blade up to the thin line as it glinted in the moonlight. The knife was sharp, but it wasn’t sharp enough. As she applied pressure the wire began to bend against the edge. Olivia grimaced and withdrew the blade.

Steeling herself, she moved her fingers to more firmly grasp the pin and hold it in place. There was a slight tremble in her hand as she brought the knife back up to the wire and began to slide it slowly against the wire. The pin wobbled slightly in her fingers as the tension changed. She felt the first warm prickles of sweat along her hairline as the world seemed to close in around her to this one single task.

“Steady girl,” she whispered to herself, “steady.”

The wire twisted against the blade and began to fray. Her fingers holding the pin were now slick with sweat and she could feel it twisting against her grasp. Withdrawing the blade, she wiped her hands on her dress and started again. She drew the blade against the wire as gently and softly as she could manage and after three more passes, the wire snapped and fell clear.

Olivia released the breath she’d been holding and withdrew her hands slowly as if waiting for the explosion to come. The pin was intact and the wire was cut. She slowly turned the door handle and pushed. The door swung outward slowly and she came face to face with a rifle flashlight.

The weapon swung away and her eyes adjusted enough for her to see again. There were two Swat operators in front of her.

“About time,” she muttered wiping her hands on her dress. “I think I have more respect for the bomb guys now.”

The men moved past her and into the corridor, silently taking up positions facing in both directions. One of the EOD techs moved up and secured the device on the door with tape before withdrawing back outside. She really envied him now.

“Are you ok?” The team leader asked, pulling down his face covering.

Olivia nodded and tugged at her dress sheepishly. She felt suddenly quite silly dressed as she was amongst her colleagues dressed in combat gear.

“Dalton?” the man asked uncertainly.

Olivia flushed and looked away. “Yeah,” she admitted quietly.

The man shrugged and reached into his pack and pulled out a ballistic vest. “Put this on.”

Olivia took off the bandolier she’d been wearing and slipped the vest over her head before fastening it around her torso. She quickly transferred the magazines and radio to the pouches and joined the others in the corridor.

“Third floor, West wing, room eighteen, which way?” the man asked in a whisper.

Olivia pointed down the corridor to her right and fell in behind the team. She felt suddenly far safer with these guys, although she realized she would soon be answering questions earlier than she’d expected. She pushed it to the back of her mind. Now was not the time to concern herself with that nonsense. Until this was over, she didn’t matter.

She guided the team up to the third floor and watched them take position outside the door to the first room that they’d identified. With quick quiet communication, the men kicked the door open and rushed into the room. She heard a flurry of suppressed gunshots from their submachine guns followed by two heavy thumps. There was a ripple of voices and screams that were quickly quietened as hushed orders were given to the hostages inside. A few moments later the team members began to filter back out into the hallway to join her.

“Room one secure.” the leader announced impassionately over his radio. He gave Olivia a curt nod and gestured onward.

Olivia quietly let the men through the silent corridors towards the second and third locations where any resistance was similarly put down by the team’s brutal efficiency. Olivia was in awe of the swat team. These men worked so smoothly and ruthlessly that she felt utterly unworthy standing beside them. Her ruined dress and generally disheveled appearance also made her feel quite vulnerable and self-conscious now she was around other people again. She hadn’t even worried about it earlier. Now she felt like a silly little girl trying to act like an adult.

They arrived on the fifth floor as Olivia guided the team towards the final group of hostages. With the group she had already freed upstairs, this would leave only the seven that were held in the rotunda with Sanderson and his cronies.

One of the operators turned toward Olivia and grinned in the darkness. “The new look suits you, Dalton.”

Olivia squinted at him in the darkness before her eyes went wide. Rory Parker had been one of the department’s training officers when she had first joined and she knew he’d transferred to the swat team the year before. She also knew he was extremely gay. “It’s Olivia now, and no you can’t have the dress.” she fired back quietly. Parker smirked and nodded. The little exchange relieved some of the tension she felt.

The team lined up beside the final door while one of the men fed a fiber optic camera under the bottom next to the carpet. The man indicated positions with his hand. The point man nodded and booted the door. His colleagues flowed past him into the room and shouted orders and screams followed. No gunshots rang out. Olivia moved inside and moved over to kneel down in front of one of the now cuffed and prone terrorists.

She grabbed his jaw and turned his head to face her. “How many of you are there in total?” she growled.

The man spat and cursed at her. “Fuck you bitch.”

Olivia’s face was thunder. She must have made quite a frightful visage after the evening’s festivities but she didn’t care. “Your friends are all dead or under arrest. It’s over now. You can go down with them or you can tell me the fucking truth. Your bullshit ideology doesn’t matter anymore, you failed”

The man glared at her for a moment before seeming to slump in his bonds. “Fifteen,” he admitted sadly.

“I knew you were fucking cowards.” she spat letting the man’s head fall to the floor.

Olivia counted. She’d dealt with five, and this made thirteen. That left only two remaining, Sanderson and one of his men in the rotunda.

“Who are you?”

Olivia snapped around as she heard the scared voice call out to her. A young woman in a pretty dress with wide terrified eyes was staring at her.

Olivia shrugged and sighed. “Nobody important.” she offered quietly. “Nobody at all.”

Parker stepped up beside her and gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. He turned to the hostages and spoke. “This woman has been in here all night alone working to get you all home safe. We’ve had a pool going on her.”

Olivia looked at him with surprise. “A pool?”

“Sure, on how many you’d get.”

“You were at the party?” a man in the back asked uncertainly, regarding her disheveled dress and police armor.

The team leader grinned. “Yeah, she got five of them before we even got here and disarmed a bomb too.”

He turned to his men and gestured for them to prepare to move out. “Folks, stay here and wait for uniformed officers. Please keep your heads down and stay quiet, this will be over shortly.”

Olivia turned to the team leader and touched his arm. “Last two are in the Rotunda with the HVTs.”

The man nodded and cursed in Spanish. “That’s a big open space, no good sightlines.”

Olivia pondered the situation for a moment and had a thought. “I’ve got an idea for the last group, it’s a little unconventional though.”

The radio crackled with a familiar voice. “Are you there Mister Sanderson?”

Mike was pacing in frustration in front of his hostages as time ticked towards zero hour.

“What do you want?”

“I want to give myself up, I’m not willing to risk anyone’s lives.” Olivia admitted more demurely than her earlier teasing tone, trying to inject a little fear into her words.

Sanderson smiled like a crocodile. “Good decision little girl, I was about to put a bullet in some of these assholes if you hadn’t.”

“Where should I go?”

“Come down to the rotunda, first floor. You can’t miss it,” Sanderson ordered. “I don’t want to see any weapons.”

Olivia agreed and ended the transmission. He didn’t need to know she was already on the ground floor only a few dozen meters away. Putting away the radio, she stepped into a nearby bathroom and took off her vest and rifle, leaving them leaning carefully against the wall.

She took in her appearance in the darkened mirror. Her makeup was ruined and her dress was a bloody ripped mess. She was still had her modesty at least, but it was certainly beyond dry cleaning.

Running some water she washed her face and tried to tidy her appearance. It felt extremely vain she realized, but if she was going to die, she wanted to do so with some dignity. A few moments later she appraised her appearance. She looked a lot plainer than her once beautiful makeup had made her look but she felt reasonably human.

Rationalizing she’d stalled long enough, Olivia steeled her nerves and left the bathroom. She walked purposefully along the quiet corridors, now confident she was alone. This night was nearly over and she would either walk out alive or die here, but it would be over.

She allowed the door to close loudly behind her to make sure Sanderson knew she was there before she stepped out into the wide hallway. The broad columned passage led toward the rotunda at the center of the grand building. Olivia stepped out into the open and walked slowly forward with her hands raised. She felt like she was a prisoner walking to her execution chamber.

“I’m here,” she called with more certainty than she felt, her voice echoing off the marble surfaces.

A man was standing over a group of kneeling hostages, his rifle trained casually in their direction.

“Come forward slowly.” another voice called sharply.
Sanderson stepped out from behind a column with the governor in the crook of his arm, a pistol leveled at his head. “No funny business or I blow his brains out.”

Olivia waved her empty hands. “I’m not armed,” she called in a level tone. “I just want to talk.”

“You’re in no position to talk to me bitch. You’ve got nothing I want.”

“It’s not too late to end this peacefully,” she called stepping into the well-lit interior of the rotunda.

Sanderson laughed and pointed the pistol at her. “There will be no peace as long as traitors like this work to destroy our nation. I’m a soldier in a war nobody wants to acknowledge.”

“The gays and immigrants are destroying the state right?” Olivia asked, keen to keep him talking. “Isn’t that a little trite? It’s pretty hard to run a conspiracy while you’re working three jobs and getting your ass kicked.”

Sanderson shook his head. “The liberal elite and trying to destroy American values and replace us with people they think are better than us… people they can control.”

“And you think killing is the answer?” she challenged.

Sanderson seemed satisfied she was unarmed and shoved the Governor away. The man stumbled and fell. He glared at her with undisguised hatred and waved the pistol at her.

“I got thrown out of the Army because I was too patriotic, I wasn’t going to bow to their bullshit sensitivity crap. These fucking assholes brainwashed my kid and made him a fucking faggot. They’re taking everything of our lives and turning it into their idea of a liberal paradise. It’s a damn invasion.” he yelled, his face turning red.

“Your son is gay?”

Sanderson spat. “They brainwashed my baby boy, they ruined a true American man and convinced him he was some sissy faggot. They’re doing it to all our kids, it’s population control.”

Olivia smiled and shook her head. “You’re really that narrow-minded aren’t you?”

Sanderson looked at her with hatred in his eyes.

Olivia stepped forward until she was only meters from him. “I feel sorry for your son. He can’t help who he is. He certainly can’t help who his family is, he doesn’t deserve a father like you. I was afraid I’d get a similar response, but I was far luckier in the end.”

A look of confusion and hatred flashed across Sanderson’s features. “You’re a dyke?”

Olivia shook her head. “No, but I have a lot in common with your boy. I had to come out to my family recently. It was a little different but they accepted me for who I was eventually. It wasn’t perfect but they’re trying their best and it means the world to me. I feel blessed that they were open-minded enough to think about their child first and worry about my hopes and dreams. All my childhood they tried to toughen me up and make me become someone that I wasn’t meant to be. They made a mistake; It took me a long time to realize they were only human and I forgave them.”

“I don’t care what some dyke cunt thinks.” Sanderson spat.

Olivia shook her head and smiled ruefully. “No, I like men actually.”

Sanderson looked confused. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Olivia looked around the room and shrugged lowering her hands. “I was born a…” Olivia had been about to try to reason with the man. Nothing in his eyes conveyed even a moment of doubt over his convictions.

“Oh whatever, doesn’t matter, Surrender now, you’re done.”

Sanderson looked at her as though she was an alien. She could see him trying to process her words. Olivia raised her hands and pointed her hands at both men and formed her fingers into guns.

“Put the guns down and you can live. It’s more than you deserve.”

Sanderson laughed out loud. “What? You going to shoot me?”

Olivia nodded and glanced at the other man who was now paying her rapt attention. “Yes actually.”

Mike Sanderson stared at the creature in front of him and spat on the floor. “You’re a freak and you’ll burn in hell,” he yelled and raised the pistol.

Olivia shrugged and fired her finger guns.

Both men crumpled to the ground as bullets struck their bodies.

Olivia raised both barrels to her lips and blew away imaginary smoke.

The hostages stared at her in confusion. Nothing that had happened made sense.

Ropes dropped around the perimeter of the rotunda and black-clad men slid deftly down from the balcony above. Both terrorists were secured and the hostages were cut free.

Olivia turned to the team leader and extended a hand. “Your timing was impeccable.”

The man shook her hand and grinned. “That was quite some performance.”

Olivia shrugged and inclined her head, “I suppose I’m quite used to the stage.”

The man’s darker features took a more serious expression. “Look, I don’t know everything that’s going on with you, but for what it’s worth, we got you ok?”

Olivia smiled at the man and touched his arm.

The Governor came over to her as he rubbed his recently freed wrists. “Who exactly are you?” he asked cautiously. “Were you the one they kept talking about?”

Olivia nodded. “I’m just a girl that was in the right place at the wrong time.”

The team leader shook his head and put his arm around Olivia’s shoulders. “Sir, this is Deputy Dalton, she saved all your lives.”

Officers started to fill the building as bomb technicians defused the door traps. People flooded around them in a surreal bustle of activity. The Governor extended his hand to Olivia.

“If you did half as much as I think, you have my most sincere gratitude. You’re an incredible woman.”

Olivia shook her head and looked away. “I just wanted to live sir.”

City Hall became a hive of activity as the Emergency Services descended on the building in the aftermath of the incident. Hostages were transferred to medical care and the surviving suspects were taken away by the police for processing. Once quiet hallways had become choked with people and noise as the authorities began the difficult process of unraveling the evening’s events and creating a timeline to answer questions that would surely be asked in the coming months.

Much to her protest, Olivia had been checked over by paramedics on the orders of one of the sergeants handling the scene on the ground. They had eventually released her with only minor injuries. She had been desperate to find Richard when she was able to get out of the building but found the task frustratingly difficult. Nobody she spoke to as she moved through the crowd of hostages seemed to have seen him or knew where he was.

Olivia slumped down on the edge of a flowerbed on the front steps of the grand building and rested her head in her hands. She was more tired than she realized. The night had been long; it was just after two in the morning and the place was busier than daytime. Fear she realized, used more of one's energy than any physical exertion ever could. Her body shook as she cried. The sum total of her emotions washing over her like wave breaking against the shore. The events of the evening had taken her to a breaking point. One she hadn’t known existed beyond her old limits. A part of her knew that Harry wouldn’t have made it this far, but Harry was gone now for good.

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders from the side and looked up startled. The Sheriff was sitting beside her.

She wiped her eyes and sat up more straight. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Reilly shook her head. “Sometimes we need to let it all out, it rots our brains if we keep it in. Crying is cathartic,” Reilly explained kindly. “You don’t feel brave, but you are. Bravery isn’t trying to be strong, or intending to do something heroic. It’s doing the right thing, even when you’re terrified.”

“I’m sorry I caused such a pain,” Olivia offered weakly.

Reilly smiled and patted the girl’s shoulder. “You’re ok. Truth be told, I’d have done the exact same thing if I were in your shoes, only I’d have caused a far bigger mess.”

“You would?”

The sheriff chuckled, “sure would. Now you don’t go telling people any of that ok?”

“No Ma’am.”

“Enough of that kid, it’s Kate.”

Olivia nodded. “I still can’t believe I did this. I’m not even back yet.”

Reilly laughed. “I always had the same problem before I became Sheriff. I’d get up to all sorts of shit when I wasn’t meant to.”

She looked off into the distance and smiled almost whistfully, remembering old times. Her expression turned more serious and she turned to look at Olivia.

“You were a very different person in there tonight.” she observed. “You’re not the young green cop that I visited in hospital anymore.”

Olivia shook her head. “No, I’m not.”

“You did yourself some favors tonight. Nobody’s going to say a word against you now.”

“That wasn’t why I did it.” Olivia protested.

“I didn’t say you did, and they all know it.”

Olivia looked at the older woman and smiled her thanks.

Reilly paused as her radio chirped in her ear. She listened for a moment and smiled. “I think Anderson found someone you were looking for.” she grinned.

“Richard?” Olivia asked hopefully, her heart quickening, “he’s ok?”

The Sheriff smiled. “Yeah, he’s fine, They’re at the command post, go on.”

Olivia took off running. The Sheriff smiled as she ran through the crowd. She remembered that feeling, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Olivia dodged and weaved and ducked past the hoard of bodies clogging the area outside City Hall. It seemed like everyone had to be there at that moment doing absolutely nothing but get in her way. She didn’t care about her dress or her hair or anything beside reaching the man she’d left behind in that conference room.

Olivia spotted Anderson stood beside a man that looked a lot like Richard. He was facing away from her, talking to her partner. She saw Anderson notice her and point to the man, he turned and she recognised his face.

Olivia ran on, desperate to reach him, it felt like a thousand years had passed since she had last been with him. Richard opened his arms and she lept at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him like a liferaft. He kissd her with such passion she thought her heart would stop beating. Her head was light and she felt dizzy, she was glad she wasn’t standing.

After what felt like an eternity, Richard pulled back smiling and brushed her hair from her eyes. Olivia stared dumbly at him, a silly grin on her lips.

“Hi.”

“Hi yourself.” Richard laughed.

Olivia could hear clapping. She glanced around for the first time seeing the world outside of her and Richard. Officers and fire fighters were clapping and smiling. It seemed like everyone had stopped and were enjoying their moment. Olivia detangled herself from Richard and brushed her hair behind her ears and stood nervously, flushing at the attention she was receiving. She didn’t let go of Richard’s hand the entire time.

People just stood, what they were doing forgotten, and clapped. Olivia had no way of knowing that what she had done inside had become widely known by her colleagues. Some didn’t know who she was, many did, but they knew she had been the one that had made the difference there that night.

“I think I need to go give a statement.” Olivia muttered to Anderson, shrinking under the attention.

Anderson shook her head. “Sheriff’s waved that off, She’ll send someone over tomorrow. She figures you need some rest, wanna go home?”

Olivia glanced at Richard and smiled. “Yes, I think I do.”

Extracting themselves from the crowd of onlookers, Olivia was able to dodge a lot of the attention directed her way by her colleagues and the media. Anderson led the two of them to a cruiser and drove them away from the madness that had overtaken downtown.

It was just before three when they were dropped off at their apartment. Neither had said a word as they rode the elevator up to their floor and entered the familiar surroundings of their home. Richard simply held Olivia’s hand and led her to the bedroom.

Olivia glanced up at the handsome man before her. Her body trembled more than it ever had in her life. She wasn’t sure if it was residual fear or fresh desire. Richard reached behind her and slowly unzipped her tattered and bloody dress. The dress fell to the floor, forgotten.

Richard stroked Olivia’s cheek gently, his fingers tracing the edge of her bruised lip. His eyes were full of love and sorrow.

“I thought I would lose you.” Richard whispered, his hands caressing her bare arms. “I Didin’t know if life would be worth living.”

Olivia stared into his eyes as she unbuttoned his shirt. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it would break free from her chest. Her breath was short and heavy, she ran her hand up his chest and felt his own heart beating.

“I did it for you.” she whispered. “I would face an an army for us.”

“You already did.” Richard smiled. Without further word, he lifted her up and carried her to the bed.

Olivia sat behind the wheel of her truck in the parking lot for thirty long minutes unable to leave the vehicle. She’d been offered further time off after the events of the previous Friday, but she’d turned it down. She knew it was time enough to face the music, it was now or never. Somehow the theory had all been well and good until she arrived at the station parking lot.

She knew that a lot of her colleagues were aware of who she was now, it wasn’t the introduction she would have wanted but it was done. She stared at her hands on the wheel in front of her and gripped it tighter until her knuckles changed color. What was she afraid of? Why was this so hard?

She knew that from the moment she walked through those doors her life would resume where it had left off so long ago. She’d started along this path long before that fateful summer day, but for some reason, it had all felt so reversible then. Like it was something she could slide in or out of at will. She knew it wasn’t, but the truth was that life wasn’t rational in the slightest. The last six months had almost felt like a dream; someone else's life that she had gotten to experience for a brief while. It had been a break from her miserable life where she could be anyone. Returning to work meant the dream was over. Just what would the real world bring her?

There was a soft knock on the driver's window that stirred her from her thoughts. Kelly Anderson grinned back at her from behind the glass. Olivia shook her head and hopped down from the cab with a sigh.

“Contemplating your existence?” The redhead observed handing her a coffee cup. “I figured you’d need one of these.”

Olivia shouldered her bag and took the cup with a nod, “It feels super real now.”

Her partner looked her up and down with a raised eyebrow. Even dressed down in jeans and a teeshirt, Olivia didn’t look remotely like Harry once had.

“Blondie, it’s been real the entire time and you’ve handled it like a pro. Most of them know already thanks to your antics on Friday, so what’s the deal?”

Olivia sipped the coffee to buy herself time before she answered. “I just don’t want them to hate me,” she admitted quietly.

“Nobody’s going to hate you, honey,” a voice added from over her shoulder. Olivia turned and smiled weakly at Abigail.

Kelly shook her head and put her arm around her friend and began guiding them toward the station. She could feel the nervous tension in the girl’s body the entire time. Olivia was acting like it was her final walk to the execution chamber, each foot placed deliberately in front of the other.

They rounded the corner and made their way toward the front steps, Olivia focusing most of her attention on her coffee cup unable to look up. Two blacked-out SUVs were parked in the visitor bays at the front of the building. As they approached, the doors opened and a large group of men in blue utility uniforms disembarked and approached the group.

Olivia looked up uncertainly at the men blocking their path. She recognized the patch on their sleeves, they belonged to the city’s Swat team. She glanced at their faces and recognized the men she’d been with at City Hall.

The Latino team leader grinned and gestured at his men, “we thought you’d like some backup for your first day back at work.”

Olivia glared at Kelly who held her hands up in protest. “Not my idea Blondie.”

The leader extended his hand, “Alex Sanchez. Look, the boys and I respect what you did Friday. What you did took a lot of guts and you were pretty kickass in there. Anderson filled us in on what today means to you and we all wanted to walk in with you. For support, you know?”

“Why?” Olivia frowned looking around the group. “I’m a nobody, I’m certainly not a hero. I know I’m going to face a ton of crap for simply existing and I want to keep my head down and get the worst over today ok?”

Parker laughed, “Do you really think you can keep your head down looking like that?” Olivia blushed and looked away.

One of the guys she didn’t know by name spoke up and elbowed Parker, “Hey we all consider you our unofficial mascot after the City Hall job, even Parker’s considered changing sides.”

“Not a chance at all of that ever happening, even for her.” Taylor snickered elbowing Parker. “This guy is almost too gay to function.”

“Don’t make fun of me.” Olivia winced.

Abigail shook her head and smiled gently, “We’re not honey, we’re just trying to make you feel better.”

“Come on,” Kelly tugged at Olivia’s arm. “Let’s go, we’ve got your back.”

Olivia ascended the steps with her honor guard in tow. As much as she protested, she was glad she wasn’t doing this alone. The group entered the lobby and made their way through to the squad room. It didn’t take long for people to notice her presence.

The clapping started quickly and grew to a crescendo as it seemed as though most of the station had crammed into the open-plan space. Everywhere she looked, people were smiling at her and clapping.

Olivia stood frozen in the center of the crowd. She didn’t know what to do or think. She’d played through so many scenarios in her mind and this hadn’t been on the list at all. Her entire plan had been to try to not draw attention and hope she was able to slowly become a part of the furniture. If people found out or made the connection, she’d hoped they might know her better by then. She hadn’t planned to be the focus of attention, and certainly not an apparently positive one.

“Decided to finally join us for work huh?”

Olivia turned to see the Sheriff had appeared nearby, a sly grin on her lips. “Back to work everyone, the show’s over. You’ve all got things to do and if you don't, I’ll find you some.”

As the grass grows, night falls, and waves crash against the shore, the prospect of more work elicits a rapid response from employees around the world. Before long, hurried normality returned to the squad room.

Reilly turned to the group and folded her arms. “Now the appreciation party is over, I expect you wish you’d taken the time I offered you.”

Olivia shook her head, “No Ma’am. It’s been long enough, I just want to get back to work.”

The Sheriff nodded and her expression softened. “It’s good to have you back. Perhaps this was a good idea. I think your shenanigans at city hall may have overridden any drama about your change of appearance.”

She looked at the Swat team members and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she appreciates your support, but I’m well aware you have better things to be doing. You hang around much longer and I’ll go find some pom poms for you.”

Sanchez gave the Sheriff a nod and led his men back out to their SUVs. As each man passed, they clasped Olivia’s shoulder. The Sheriff watched with an amused expression on her face. “I think you’ve got some hardcore fans there. Those guys are hard to impress.”

Olivia nodded, “They’re good people.”

“You lot get off and get in uniform, you’ve got patrol briefing in fifteen minutes.” The Sheriff chided shaking her head. “I swear I feel like a school teacher here sometimes,” she muttered as she walked away to look for someone making a mistake.

“Yes, Miss.” Anderson chuckled as she steered Olivia away before the Sheriff could react. The three women made their way through the hallways toward the locker rooms to change into their duty uniforms. Arriving, Olivia froze for a moment, a sudden wave of uncertainty hitting her as she stared at the door to the once-forbidden place.

Anderson looked at her sideways, “What?”

“Should I?” Olivia asked uncertainly glancing at the door. “I mean, is it ok?”

“You want to change with the guys?” Taylor smirked. “I mean I’m sure they’d be ok with it.”

Olivia shook her head. “No I mean… is it ok?”

Anderson finally understood and shook her head, “yeah of course it’s ok. Get in there dumbass,” she added shoving her in the back.

Olivia crossed the threshold and entered the women's locker room with a bump. It was identical to the men’s for the most part, although it did smell far better she noted. There really was no difference beyond that. A couple of women from her shift were in the latter stages of changing and didn’t pay her much attention beyond a glance toward the newcomers.

“Your locker’s here.” Kelly gestured towards a row identical to the men’s lockers. “Sarge assigned it last night.”

Olivia dumped her bag on the bench and glanced around uncertainly.

“Get on with it Blondie, you don’t have much I don’t.” the redhead leered suggestively.

Olivia shrugged and pulled her shirt off and began to unbutton her jeans. She paused shyly, before shrugging and pushing them down.

“God damn,” Kelly grinned in a similar state of undress. “I’m actually jealous.”

Olivia smiled slightly and started to pull on her uniform. Kelly had given her one of her spare vests the night before. She was glad, as it fitted her new shape far better than her old one ever had. Finally fastening her duty belt, she turned toward one of the mirrors on the end wall of the locker room and regarded herself.

Her blonde hair wasn’t long enough to put up yet, but she wore it neatly behind her ears out of the way. There were small simple studs in her ears, and her makeup was light and within regulation. For the first time in her life, she felt right in the uniform. She smiled at her reflection in the glass and knew it was real.

“Not bad at all Liv,” Taylor remarked from over her shoulder, “not bad at all.”

“Come on Blondie, we’re going to be late.” Kelly chided, slapping her backside. “Let’s go.”

To say Olivia felt awkward walking into the briefing room was an understatement. That entire morning had been an exercise in self-control to prevent her from running screaming from the building. No matter what she told herself, or how people reacted, she was tensed to receive a poor response at any moment. The only thing that flashed through her mind was the anger on her brother Mark’s face, his words, and his hatred.

She followed the others through to the briefing room. It reminded her a lot of a classroom in many ways, there were desks, chairs and a board at the front. High school certainly hadn’t been kind to her, it was almost fitting that she was here again. Taylor took her seat a little further back with the other training officers for the shift, and Olivia followed Kelly to a seat roughly half way up the room.

Olivia tried to keep her head down and her eyes toward the front of the room to avoid directly engaging anyone. She had noticed some looks directed her way, though she couldn’t tell if people simply didn’t recognize her yet, or had already caught on. Unlike high school, she knew adults would keep most of their thoughts to themselves within earshot.

“Dalton right?” a voice asked as Olivia heard a chair being pulled out beside her. Glancing over she saw one of the women from the locker room, Hernandez, taking a seat alongside them. She nodded.

“You change shift?” she asked brightly, “Surprised you’re working after Friday.”

“Um, no,” Olivia muttered quietly. “I just want to get back to work, been off too long already.”

The woman frowned, unsure what she meant before the penny dropped. “Oh, you’re the one that got hurt in that robbery right? I coulda sworn you were a guy.”

Olivia cringed and nodded slightly, unable to meet the woman’s gaze.

“Ah,” Hernandez chuckled, “I see.”

Kelly chose that moment to step in, she’d noticed the conversation around the room had quietened once Hernandez had spoken. “Yeah she’s joined the better team, problem?”

“Wait that was a dude I was beating off to all weekend?” One of the guys at the back of the room laughed, “Man, fuck!” a ripple of chuckles spread around the room and Olivia hung her head.

Hernandez turned and raised an eyebrow at the deputy, “MacDonald, you’ll beat yourself raw to anything that looks like her, once you can shave your palms of course.”

The room broke into rawcus laughter. Hernandez squeezed Olivia’s shoulder, “Ignore the boys, they’re assholes. They wouldn’t joke if they actually didn’t like you. I don’t think anyone can say anything bad after City Hall. Plus we can chalk that one up as a win for the ladies so we good.” she added conspiratorially.

Olivia let herself relax, “Thanks I guess, I just want to get on with the job, you know? I don’t want to make a fuss.”

The woman nodded, “Yeah all good, bit weird for some but this is LA, shit happens. Just don’t go perving in the locker room ok?”

Kelly snorted, “She’s bagging a sexy lawyer man, she’s not on your team Hernandez.”

The latina raised an eyebrow and smirked.

Their conversation was interrupted by the entry of the watch commander. Lieutenant Wilcox ignored the bustle of conversation and took the podium at the front of the room. “Alright calm down.” he barked silencing them all. “We picked up seven burglaries from night shift and two muggings, that’s going to be you Willard and Carter, I want Heston, Martins and Adams on the burglaries, Anderson and Dalton, you two are on area three today, Wilson and Mar…” The older man trailed off and looked at his notes before looking up at the room again searching around. “Dalton?”

Olivia flushed bright red, “Sir?”

“I…” Wilcox muttered to himself for a moment, “Ah yes, you’re…”

“She’s the badass bitch that saved the Governor on Friday,” Kelly called out.

The Lieutenant seemed to put two and two together, “Ah yes, thank you.” he coughed frowning at his notes.

As Wilcox continued with his briefing, Olivia glanced around the room. She knew that they knew, but nobody was making a scene; she could be thankful for that atleast. As old man Wilcox prattled on about a new outreach program she relaxed and watched her colleagues. Regardless of what they said, she was here and she had the support of the department. She could handle some flack, hell it was part of being a cop. She had her friends, and she knew that a lot of people respected her after what she’d done. She just hoped that it would be enough to override their other feelings with regard to her gender. With her friends around her she could cope, and that would hopefully be enough. She would prove herself to her doubters, and she would show them she was a great cop. She knew who she was, and she knew the people that mattered in her life did too. They’d get used to her, and if they didn’t, that was their problem.

Olivia Evelyn Dalton was just another Deputy Sheriff working the streets of Los Angeles. In their car, it was just her and Kelly. They laughed, they cried, and they chased bad guys. Olivia was home.

Sunset was falling as the waves crashed against the shore of Venice Beach. Amber light glinted off the water as Olivia paddled hard through the waves toward deeper water. Surfing was a glorious escape from the pressures of daily life in Los Angeles. Out here was about as close as she could get to her native Montana; a wild lonely beautiful place that she missed dearly. Out on the waves she was alone in nature’s grasp even as she looked inland towards the city's concrete sprawl. Turning on her board, she dug hard as the wave rose behind her. Catching its leading edge, she stood with practiced ease as her board began to dip as the wave swelled around her.

The ride was always exhilarating, the natural power of the ocean harnessed briefly as she raced towards the shore. Like life, it was fleeting and over before you really knew it. Olivia stood in the shallows after the wave deposited her on the shore. She pushed her hair out of her face and straightening her bikini top. Glancing at the sun she calculated she had at least one more wave before she had to head back to real life.

Slinging the board ahead of her, she began to paddle back out towards deeper water. Surfing was something she had picked up when she first got to LA for college. She was fresh from the mountains and valleys of Montana and the ocean provided one of the few escapes from the noise and vibrance of college life.

She sat astride her board taking in the wild beauty of the ocean. A lot had changed since she first left the mountains of home. That shy uncertain kid that had been the butt of so many jokes and ass kickings hadn’t known who they were. They’d moved away from a darkness that had been there all along and they’d tried to fit into a different, but still unfitting shoe. She didn’t understand why she’d made the choices she had, but she was certain of one thing. Her life was only just beginning. The darkness was gone now and instead, it was filled with the light of possibility. She had absolutely no idea what she would face in the future, but she was sure she would enjoy the ride.

“Just can’t face going back in huh?” a familiar voice called from a short distance away.

Olivia opened her eyes and glanced back over her shoulder. A man was paddling out to catch one last wave too. She smiled, “hey baby”

The man paddled his board over to her and sat facing her. “Hi yourself.”

Olivia took Richard’s head in her hands and kissed him deeply, tasting the salt on his lips. Her heart lept, and her spirit sang.

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