SRU: Return Policy free porn video

I write things as I get the muse. A few years ago I was wandering the web looking for fiction and ran across Fictionmania for the first time. I've checked back any number of times since, consistently fascinated by the wide variety of talent and dedication that has gone into creating the online community. I started writing this more than six months ago, simply because it demanded to be written. I had no real choice in the matter. I can only hope that I have remained faithful to the characters and universe created by Bill Hart. Thanks to Bill and all the other authors whose time and efforts have gone into creating Fictionmania. With that said, here is my own contribution. ***** SRU: Return Policy By Random "Bastard!" The old man looked up at the sound of the woman's enraged voice. It had surprised him. That shouldn't happen. The woman fuming before the counter of his shop was young, perhaps twenty- one or twenty-two. Her long brunette hair hung in a tangled mass down to the small of her back. It looked as if it hadn't been washed for several days. Dark circles underscored her lush brown eyes. She was dressed simply, in baggy sweats that, despite their rumpled appearance, seemed almost new. Somehow, despite her efforts to hide it, her beauty managed to cling to her, though she'd obviously gone to great lengths to disguise it. The old man was shaken, but he wasn't going to let this woman see that. He drew his robe tight about his body and stood straight, clothing himself in dignity. He sent out a feeler of magic even as he drew in breath to answer the charge. He breath was violently expelled a moment later as his magic backlashed against him, instantly awakening an incredible headache. He managed to quell it quickly with the force of his will, but the damage had been done. The woman had seen him flinch. "Trying to get inside my head, old man? That's not going to work. You can't play any of your mind games on me." The tone was harsh, but the voice itself was a melodic soprano. By the timbre, she might have been a singer of some sort. She smiled, harsh and bitter. "Wondering who I am yet? And why you can't read me?" The Old man gave her an ingratiating smile, honed by the long years of running his shop. "The thought had crossed my mind." She shook her head and held something out at arm's length. The red nail polish on her fingernails was chipped and scraped. "Just your average, run of the mill, dissatisfied customer." The medallion that hung from a thin gold chain looped around her wrist was slightly larger than a penny. Late afternoon sunshine reflected from its golden surface, arcing tiny spots of light across the many surfaces of the crowded store. Squinting, the old man was able to make out the pattern repeated both on the front and back, an almost hyper-realistic engraving of a bird headed man. "The Amulet of Osiris." He said softly. "Good memory, old man. But I shouldn't be surprised." The woman's voice tore his concentration away from the medallion. There was an odd tone in her voice. He couldn't tell what it was. Even the slightest attempt to read her mind threatened to bring back the headache. "You've lived an awfully long time. I'd imagine that it's a good skill to have, especially in a wizard. Now, do you remember who you sold the medallion to?" "You know about me?" "You didn't try very hard to hide your past. All those stories on the Internet about Spells R' Us." The woman shook her head from side to side. "It shows a certain degree of arrogance on your part; funny, that really doesn't come across in the stories." "Most of the stories were written by past customers. Not all of them are flattering; some of them barely remember the events after they settle into their new lives. It tends to change the facts a bit." He shrugged. "They say that any publicity is good publicity." She actually broke a small smile. It made an astounding difference, elevating her features from beautiful to stunning. The smile faded quickly. "You never answered my question." "Which one?" "You know which one." The old man sighed. "I don't think I've ever had an unhappy customer before. You'll have to excuse a certain lack of propriety." He closed his eyes for a moment and attempted to recall the customer in question. "Thirty years old, light brown hair, a teller at a bank as I recall. Michael Gear, I think his name was." "Like I said before, old man. Good memory. You sold it to me with the promise of three wishes." The old man frowned, his brow furrowing. "You're Michael Gear? I thought..." "Can't get over the not being able to read my mind thing, can you?" The woman ran her hand across a golden birdcage and let her slim fingers come to rest on a polished wooden jaguar. "Normally it only happens with other witches and wizards, right? Say, where's Dannie? Shouldn't she be helping out with the shop?" "I gave her the afternoon off, I wasn't expecting anyone in here today. It gave me a chance to do some inventory without her underfoot." The Old Man focused his gaze on her. "You're changing the subject." She shook her head slowly. "Just derailing it for a few moments. Savoring the moment, I suppose. It isn't often that one manages to surprise a wizard." "And how did you manage that exactly?" He asked slowly. Behind the partition that separated the front of the store from the back, came a soft snort, an old wolf turning over in its sleep. She turned to look. The woman didn't miss much. He wondered if Michael Gear had been this observant. The woman's mouth quirked into a semblance of a smile. "Fishing for a story?" "Perhaps." "You know, for a completely amoral bastard, you're rather charming." "Thank you, I think." The Old Man replied, his brow furrowing. "You're a rather interesting woman." The object of the compliment shook her head back and forth, making a soft clicking noise with her tongue. Her eyes scanned the store. "Hmm, Cracker Jacks, a surprise in every box." She raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I'll just bet." "One of my best sellers." "I never would have guessed. I suppose I didn't look around enough the last time I was here." "About that..." "The story?" The Old man shrugged. The curiosity was eating him alive, but he wasn't going to admit that. They were playing a complicated game here, and he wasn't at all sure of the rules. It was an unusual situation for him. He wasn't precisely certain what she wanted exactly, her ultimate goal. He had a suspicion, but... he shook his head slightly to clear it and leaned against the counter. They wouldn't be disturbed by any customers; he'd made sure by twisting the shop back into its home dimension. Dannie would be able to get back, but he'd effectively closed up shop for the day. "I'd be interested..." "Especially why you can't read my mind, I'd bet." She leaned back and looked around. "No chairs? I might have to take back the charming statement." "We can hardly have that now, can we? I rarely perform any showy magic in front of my customers, but in this case, I think I can make an exception." The old man focused his will and gestured behind the woman. Two chairs appeared facing each other, a small table set for tea between them. He gestured toward the armchairs. "Impressive." She said, sitting in the chair to the left, furthest from the door. "They remind me of my Grandmother's house." The Old Man smiled. "I think that it's a truism that all grandmothers have exactly the same comfy chairs. My grandmother had some like these, and I daresay I have a few years on you." "I can imagine." She replied with an ironic smile. The sight stirred an emotion that the Old Man rarely allowed himself these days. Lust. She was utterly remarkable, more so knowing that a short while ago, she had been a man. "Shall we get down to business?" "To business then..." She began without preamble. "I bought the Osiris charm and brought it directly back to my apartment. I couldn't even figure out why the hell I'd bought the thing, I certainly didn't believe in magic. Then. I certainly do now." "I treated it like a joke. Three wishes, it was like something out of a fairy tale. Beyond belief. I held it out that first night, under the light in the dining room, and I said ... hell, what did I say? Oh yes. 'I wish I had a million dollars.' Nothing happened and I tossed the charm onto the kitchen table, figuring I'd been swindled." The Old Man leaned forward, looking at her intently. "But you hadn't." She nodded. "I found the suitcase two hours later when I was going to bed, partly stuffed under the box spring. I think I nearly had a heart attack when I opened it. One million dollars, exactly as I'd asked. How often does that happen? I was... hell, I might have creamed my shorts then and there, if paranoia hadn't set in." "Paranoia?" The woman nodded. "That the real owner might show up, or that it might have been stolen." "It wasn't." "I know that now." She cleared her throat. "Excuse me. A bit dusty in here, what kind of tea is in that pot?" The Old Man favored her with an enigmatic smile. "Any kind you want it to be. Would you care for a cup, I guarantee that it's excellent." "No hidden traps in that guarantee?" "Touch?. I suppose I deserved that" He replied with a wince. He leaned forward and poured two cups. She made no move to take the cup that slowly steamed in front of her. The silence stretched; finally she took the cup and set it on the armrest beside her. "I went on with my job at the bank. I didn't even touch the money for a full two weeks. It sat in the back of my closet and occasionally I'd take it out and stare at it. I checked the papers and watched the news. Nothing." She paused to take a sip of her tea. "Darjeeling, excellent. I never could quite get the taste for it as a man, but now... I suppose it has something to do with the way my body has changed." "Perhaps." The Old Man replied, taking a sip of his own tea. Lemon-mint with a touch of honey. It was of course his favorite. Her brow furrowed momentarily. The Old man had the sense that she waiting for him to say more. He kept his silence. After a moment, the former Mr. Gear continued. "After the two weeks, I was convinced and began to spend the money. In little ways at first, a couple of little luxuries, gradually heading toward bigger purchases as my confidence increased. A little here, a little there. It seemed like an enormous amount of money to have to spend. And then I began to remember how it all began..." "The amulet." The Old Man supplied. She nodded. "Yes, the amulet. I was beginning to believe by now, and just starting to recognize that another world existed. Your world. A world of witches and wizards, sorcerers and sorceresses, that existed alongside out own, and overlapped our reality. In short, I was ready to make another wish. The question was, what to wish for?" "The answer of course was obvious, as it is to any man given the chance for his deepest desire. Women. You have to understand, it wasn't that I was unattractive to women, it was more that I was average. Average height and weight. Brown eyes, brown hair. Not overweight, but not overly muscled either. I'd date a woman once or twice before getting the friend speech. You know the one. It starts, 'You know, you're a really nice guy...' and always end with, 'I think we can be really good friends.' And I would try, hoping that just once they would change their mind and see that I could be something more than a friend." The Old Man slowly shook his head. "They never did." "Are you guessing or using magic?" "Is there a difference? Have you ever watched a really good Psychic? A number of them can tell just about anything about you by little clues about they way you walk, the way you dress. No magic involved there." "Psychic? Like Dionne Warwick?" The Old Man smiled. "Well, there are a few that are real." "Then..." She began. The Old Man tapped the side of his head and smiled. The woman didn't have reply for that. She took a sip of tea and glanced out the wood and glass facade of the building. "It's getting late." "Don't let the light fool you. We're somewhere between dimensions now. I didn't want to be interrupted." "A captive audience. I think I like that." "You intrigue me." "About time I did it to someone, would have preferred it had been a woman though." "As you wish." The air around the Old Man shivered uncomfortably, for lack of a better word, causing her eyes to water and blink. The Old Man and his bathrobe were gone, replaced by a youngish blond woman wearing a light floral dress. "Is this better?" "Change back. You know what I meant." She paused for a moment before adding a single word. "Bastard." The blond woman crossed her legs and leaned back into the chair. A laugh poured from her lips, long and liquid, full of joy. "That would be wasting magic. I'd hate to have to do that. Besides... If you know about my history, then you know I spent almost half my life as a woman. It's almost like coming home in a way." "Jesus. You're something else, you know." The blond woman leaned forward slowly, her blue eyes locked onto the other woman's brown. "I know." Gear shook her head, unsure what to say in response. "Christ, you... you..." She finally sighed and gave up. The Old Man was getting her off balance, she couldn't afford that. She retreated back to her story. "They never did, that was right. And I wanted... hell; I'm not sure what I wanted. Revenge maybe on all the women who had ever dismissed me maybe. Payback for all the times that a woman picked someone more handsome, richer, to go home with. Someone not quite so..." "Average." It was said so softly that it was almost inaudible. She tore her eyes away from her lap to the man across the table from her. He had turned back, bathrobe and all, while she spoke. She wasn't sure when. She couldn't read the look on his face. For his part, the Old Man regretted speaking. It was rare that he spoke to any of his customers... after, and there was something about her that he found compelling. He was enjoying the flow of the words, the lost tone that crept into her voice as she spoke. He had little contact with others on a personal basis, other than Dannie, and sometimes that felt more like a war. Taking on someone so young for an apprentice was almost certainly a recipe for chaos. He'd taken her in because he'd sensed the power in Danny, the boy she'd been. Without guidance, Dannie's mind probably would have been broken by the powers she couldn't even begin to understand without help. Someone had had to do it. The fools on the wizard's council had long ago abandoned mortals as a lost cause. Too petty, too stupid, and too weak to even protect. They had long since removed themselves from this dimension, content with playing God in worlds that they had created. There were a few rogues out there still: witches, warlocks, sorcerers and gypsies. The few that were left were so wrapped up in their own games and plots, their own struggles to rise to the top of the heap, that humanity was pretty much left to their own devices. Most of them had long since forgotten that they were descended from those they were trying to leave behind; those so called pitiful humans that... "Are you all right?" Her voice was pitched low with concern. He hadn't expected that from her. He cleared his throat loudly, pulling himself back into the present and into the story of the woman sitting in front him. He hoped that she hadn't realized how far his thoughts had wandered. He suspected she had. "I'm fine. Finish your story." She stared at him oddly for a few moments before continuing. "I decided that I wanted to be the one the women went home with, just once. Something more than average. Someone with muscles and well-defined good looks. I decided that I wanted 'the perfect body'." "And that's how you worded the wish?" The Old Man asked quietly. He already knew what the answer would be. Gear responded with a slow nod. "Yes." "What happened?" "To be honest, I really don't remember. The last thing I remember was doubling over when the first cramps hit. After that, there was pain, and I passed out." "And when you woke up..." The sentence hung in the air between them. She hung her head slightly, her auburn hair cascading about her face, making her expression unreadable. "I looked like this. My wish was certainly granted." Her voice held a trace of mirth. He had the impression that she was laughing at her own naivet?. "So what did you do?" This time she looked up, a humorless smile touching her lips. "Haven't you read your own stories? I believe that the victim," She paused. "or would you prefer client?" "Client please." She nodded and continued. "I believe that the client starts out in shock and moves to gradual disbelief. Then they realize that the body they've woken up with really is theirs. How am I doing so far?" "Pretty good so far." "Then they start to explore until the evidence is too much to deny. After that, the story begins to change a bit, but the very basics are all the same." She took a sip from her cup and set it one the table between them. She shrugged. "I did all of that, pretty much in that order. It felt very... different, but I'd imagine you know that." "Perhaps." "I'd screwed up my wish. That much was obvious at that point. This most definitely was not what I wanted. I was going to have to use my third wish to change myself back." The corner of her mouth twitched as she said it. "I figured, 'What the hell, at least I end up with a million dollars and I have one hell of a story to tell my grandchildren. I'm not any worse off than I was before'. I tore myself away from the bathroom mirror; I was of course quite naked at this point. My sweatpants had fallen off when I changed, and I took the shirt off when I was... exploring." "It took some searching, and a lot of panicking, before I found the medallion. It had fallen out of my hand when I'd hit the floor while unconscious and rolled under the couch. I picked it up and started to make my final wish." The Old Man's brow furrowed. "And it didn't work?" "I wouldn't know. It wouldn't let me make the wish. All that would come out was a sort of strangled squeak. I figured at first that the medallion needed some time to recharge and I could live with it for a while. I didn't have anything in my apartment that came even close to fitting this body. Like I said, I was never really a ladies man. I had to make do." She shook her head. "It wasn't pretty." "All my jeans were too long. I'd lost almost a foot in the change. And around the waist... I used one of my belts to cinch my jeans tight enough so they wouldn't fall down. My hips were wider, that helped, but let's face it, I have almost no waist. My own fault for wishing for the perfect body, I never specified whose idea of the perfect body. I wore a black Aerosmith concert tee over the top, which fell low enough to disguise the worst of the jeans. The shoes were the worst part of the whole deal. I wore a size twelve in men's shoes. There was no way they would even come close to fitting. I wore them anyways, with socks rolled up in the toes to make up for the space, a lot of socks." "I had to go downtown. I had to drive. I kept looking around, expecting the police to pull me over any minute and praying they wouldn't. I had no legal identification. No Driver's license, no birth certificate. I was officially a non-person. If I was pulled over, there was no way I'd be able to begin to explain who I was. It was enough to get my heart beating a mile a minute. I don't think I've followed the speed limit so faithfully since my driver's exam." "The store was... well, interesting. I had money thanks to my first wish. A lot of money. It saved me a lot of questions. Like why I was wearing my boyfriend's clothes, and why I didn't know what size clothing I wore. Being measured was... interesting, and not a little uncomfortable for me. I still wasn't used to this body and to have another person touch it..." She actually shuddered at the emotional force behind the memory. "I didn't buy many clothes. I figured that this was only temporary. Once the medallion recharged, I'd be able to change back to my old self, maybe with the clothes as some sort of odd memorabilia." "When did you figure out that the medallion wasn't going to allow you to change back?" The Old Man asked gently. "I began to suspect after a week, when I was still in this body. I didn't have it confirmed for almost another week." The Old Man frowned. "Confirmed?" "I hired a witch to check out the spell on the medallion. She confirmed what I'd already guessed." The woman leaned forward, hatred flaring in her eyes. "The medallion had a geis placed on it, a powerful one. She couldn't remove it, it was too powerful. But she could tell me what it was." The Old Man's eyebrows raised a notch. "You hired a real witch? How?" "E*bay and a lot of cash. It's amazing what you find on the Internet these days." She leaned forward. "It took me almost a week of sorting through Wiccans, druids, false prophets, fortune tellers, and charlatans before I stumbled on the real thing, a set of twin witches out of Ohio. Teenagers. It made conversation hell, I don't know what it is with kids these days." "Don't I know it. You've read about Dannie." The Old Man replied sympathetically. "I understand far better than you might think." "I can imagine it's worse when they have magic." "The stories about me don't even begin to describe the difficulties. She's out at the mall right now. Buying more shoes." The Old Man actually shuddered. "I've had to expand her room twice since she moved in. Never seen any woman shop so much, much less one that used to be a boy." "Think it's a way of rebelling?" "Maybe." The Old Man paused for a moment. "But this isn't about my problems. You were telling me about the charm, and how you discovered its magic powers." She shrugged. "Common courtesy gets you a long way. Besides, I'm curious as to what makes you tick. I've read the stories..." "But they really don't give a complete picture." The Old Man favored her with a rare smile, rare only in that was genuine. "Like I said, most of the stories about me were written by former clients. They rarely reflect favorably on me. Hazard of the trade." "I suppose." As there didn't seem to be anything else to add to the conversation, she took another sip of her rapidly cooling tea. "The witches told me there was no way for me to use the charm to go back to my old life. They didn't say it in exactly those words, but..." "I can guess who the witches were, I can guess that it had something to do with being completely screwed." "Good guess." "I've had a lot to do with teenagers lately. I'm not sure it's been a good experience." She lay back on the chair and closed her eyes. "Didn't leave me with a lot of options really. I had to do something I generally regret." "What's that?" "Using my brain. It almost always gets me in trouble." "And has it this time?" "That remains to be seen. The day's still young." The Old man essayed what might have been a stifled laugh. Gear paused for a moment in her story to consider the sound. The Old Man stared back at her, inscrutable in his bathrobe. She shrugged and continued. "I made a wish and then held onto the amulet, on the assumption it would find its way back to you." "Apparently a good assumption. May I assume that this wish has something to do with why I cannot read your mind." "Astute." "It's a talent you pick up after several centuries of living. May I ask how you worded the wish?" "That's easy enough. I wished that you wouldn't be able to use magic to influence or otherwise change my mind in any way. I didn't feel anything at the time, I wasn't even sure that it had worked until I walked into the shop." The Old Man shook his head. He seemed for a moment to be about to say something and then stopped. The silence stretched. "Michael, let me show you something. Close your eyes." "Why should I trust you?" The Old Man was silent for a moment. "Have I given you any reason not to? I could have destroyed you when you walked in the door." "Good point." Brown eyes closed as she leaned back further into her chair. The Old Man gestured toward the woman in the opposite seat and muttered a few words. Brilliant light blossomed across the inside of Gear's eyelids. She could suddenly see every object in the store, and above most of the items, a swirling pattern of light reminiscent of DNA. "Jesus, what is that?" She started to open her eyes, but a quick word from the Old Man stopped her. "You are seeing what wizards see. It won't last long, but it should be long enough. Take a look at the amulet." Blazing oranges and blues hovered above the amulet in a dizzying spiral that seemed to fold in on itself. It was enough to give her an instant headache. "So?" "Now look at me." Her altered gaze focused on the Old Man and for a few seconds she was unable to comprehend what she was seeing. An entire spectrum of colors swirled where the Old Man had sat a few moments ago. Green, Yellow, and what she somehow understood to be ultraviolet, danced in space a few inches above the chair. Her head began to pound. "Open your eyes, quickly. If you wait too long..." The severity of the Old Man's tone caused her eyes to snap open. "What?" The Old Man sat in the chair again. He shrugged and finished mildly. "It'll probably give you a bitch of a headache." Gear considered that for a moment and finally chose to ignore it. "And what exactly was I seeing?" "Every magician has a ... pattern associated with their magic. Other magicians can see and recognize that magical signature. What did you see when you looked at me?" She shook her head. Trying to bring it back caused pain to blossom in the back of her skull. "I don't know. It hurts to remember." "Doesn't surprise me. Normals generally have a problem with that. It's what sets the magicians apart from the rest of humanity, that ability to see and understand the inherent patterns of magic. Let me ask you a question. Was what you saw the same pattern as that in the amulet?" "I ... I don't think so." The pain seemed on the verge of coming back as she pondered the question. The Old Man took pity on her. "It wasn't. What you saw was the inherent magic in the amulet which... as you may have noticed, was not the same as the pattern you saw in me." "And what does that mean?" "Simply put, the magic in the Medallion of Osiris is older than I am. I knew that the medallion had the power to grant three wishes, and I sold it under that premise. Looking carefully at the spells on the medallion, I can see the geis, but I've never bothered to look that closely..." He was interrupted by the bell on the door sounding." "Hey, what's the meaning of moving the store while I was gone?" The door was pushed open by a large pile of boxes and bags, which, when yielding to gravity, proved to a hide an attractive young woman. Gear could see surprise register in the girl's green eyes. She was more beautiful than the stories had indicated. "Dannie, I presume." Gear nodded her head toward the young woman. He nodded. "Hold on a minute, Dannie. Mr. Gear and I have some unfinished business to finish up first." The Old Man turned back to the woman opposite him. "May I assume that you would like to return to your male body?" She nodded and began to speak. "Yes, I would like that... " As she spoke, pressure began to build in the shop, centered on the woman that remained unaware of the spell building around her. There was an audible pop. "...very much." Michael Gear, very much male again, finished the sentence in a booming baritone. Where a stunning young woman had stood only moments before, stood an attractive man of perhaps twenty-two. He stood at almost six-feet with well- toned muscles. Gear was dressed in the same clothes he had worn as a woman, altered to fit his new frame. Even now, he was beginning to understand the change that had been wrought in his body. "But..." "I think that this is the body you would have wished for yourself had the wish been worded differently." The Old Man smiled. "I'm not as capricious as the stories make me out to be. The Medallion was sold to you under false pretenses due to my own negligence. I am willing to atone for the error. The original purchase price has been refunded to you; it is in your wallet. Reality has been changed to accommodate both your new appearance and age regression." "You mean I can go back to my old life?" "If you wish, I could not negate the third wish made on the medallion since it directly affects my own magic, but I have left the first wish intact. You, Mr. Gear, are a very wealthy man." "That's it?" "That's it. You expected more?" Gear nodded. "You were fairer than I could have ever imagined. I came expecting to have to sick the wizard's council on you." The Old Man snorted. "It wouldn't have mattered. Like I said before, you were the first dissatisfied customer I've ever had come track me down, and over an honest error no less. It would have been a slap on the wrists at most." "Well then, thank you." Gear didn't sound at all certain. He hadn't come prepared for this eventuality. "You're welcome Michael. And as a small token of my sorrow over this misunderstanding, I would like you to have this." The Old Man fished a piece of paper from the many pockets of his robe and handed it to the other man. Gear stuffed it into a pocket. Epilogue Later, after Gear had gone, Dannie swung herself into the seat that Gear had vacated. The Old Man had continued to sit there for some time after the Normal had left. "You're losing your touch, Boss. Changing a woman back into a man." She softly clucked her tongue in mock disapproval. The noises ended with a loud "ouch!" as the Old Man caused the chair to disappear, dumping his apprentice on her shapely derriere. The Old Man smirked as his apprentice gained her feet. "What makes you think I'm losing my touch?" "Come off it, Old Man. You lost." Dannie leaned her long body against the store counter. "Gear left here as a man. How often does that happen? The Normal got the better of you." The Old Man casually arched a single eyebrow. "Dannie, stop talking for a moment and take a look at the piece of paper I gave him before he left." "How do I do that?" "You haven't been studying." The Old man's voice had an overtone of scolding. "Take a look into the causality and try to separate out Gear. Look for his life signature." Dannie's eyes focused on something far away. For a moment, her body became partially transparent before snapping back into reality. "A lifetime pass to Bikini Beach?" "He'll need it. That last wish she made, the one about not being able to magically affect her mind is going to cause her all sorts of grief. "I don't understand." The room resounded with a drawn out sigh. "Think about it, Dannie. I gave Michael Gear back his body, but I was magically prevented from altering the mind. Inside that male body is a very female mind, and there's nothing I can do to change that." "Mankind's science had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that the male and the female mind operate differently. Nothing glaring, but enough to affect the body's instincts. Gear has all the instincts of a woman, all the sexual attraction of a woman, fighting it out with all those male hormones. I think that he's going to become one very confused and frustrated man very soon." "And you think Anya's Grandmother can set thing's right?' He shrugged. "The wish was that my magic couldn't affect Gear's mind, it didn't mention anything about that woman." "And you think that he'll go to the Water Park?" "Yes." "Why?" "He's going to be desperate to prove his masculinity after a little while. Bikini Beach should prove irresistible. All those male memories floating through the female mind are going to cause no end of confusion for him. It was the kindest thing I could do for him." Dannie was quiet for a moment. "You have a very devious mind, Old man." "Thank you Dannie. Why don't you put your..." He looked at the small mountain of bags and boxes piled by the door. "...purchases away and take over the shop for a little while. I think I'll stop by the park and visit." The young woman moved toward the door. "Have a safe trip, Boss." "Don't I always?" He disappeared quickly, but his smile lingered for a moment afterward. "Tricky." Was Dannie's only comment. She made a gesture and teleported her parcels to her room. "Very tricky."