Altered Fates: Tempest free porn video

ALTERED FATES: TEMPEST by BobH (c) 2004 Authors note: This story was inspired in part by femur's Lovingly Modified Romance Comic covers, specifically af011.jpg. These can be seen at tgcomics.com 1.Janice: "'Loose' for 'lose'," said Gina Carter, dark eyes flashing, "'breath' when it should be 'breathe', and not knowing the difference between 'affect' and 'effect. Not to mention 'adverse' and 'averse'. I swear they've given up teaching basic English in American schools." While Julia Tamm nodded in agreement, Janice Cochran had to work hard to suppress a chuckle. She agreed with Gina's point, but it amused her that the raven-haired beauty giving this earnest denunciation of the nation's educational system, a familiar rant for her, was dressed head-to-foot in a black-leather outfit out of some S&M enthusiast's wet-dream, gesturing with the whip she held as she did so. "You're not still going on about that, are you Gin?" came a voice from behind her that Janice immediately recognized. She turned as they were joined by Kate McGowen, returning from the bathroom. The willowy blonde was sniffing and wiping her nose with her forefinger. Janice frowned, but said nothing. "You don't agree with her then?" asked Julia, giving Kate a quizzical look. "Oh, sure," replied Kate, her eyes holding Julia's for a moment or two longer than necessary, "but Gina's the only person I know who gets worked up about the spelling and grammar in her fan mail. I'm sure she pencils-in corrections in red when no one's looking." Gina stared at her friend balefully for a moment, then burst out laughing, the other women joining in. Janice knew she was all too aware how obsessive she could get about some things, but fortunately she also saw the funny side of this. Their laughter caused others in the studio to glance up briefly from their own conversations and smile. Like Gina, Kate was one of the models on the books of Tempest, the agency Janice ran with her husband, Peter. She was also Gina's best friend. Where Gina was clad in black, Kate was dressed in a white, short-skirted wedding dress. Not having been on camera, Janice was wearing blue jeans and a blouse, large hoop earrings fully revealed by her above-the-collar brown hair. Her own modeling career had been a dozen years earlier and mercifully brief. After meeting Peter and forming the agency, her work had mostly been behind the camera. "Who's that talking to your husband?" asked Julia. Janice glanced over to where Peter was being loudly harangued by his brother about something, her teenage niece hovering nearby, looking embarrassed at her father's behavior and casting frequent glances Janice's way. "That's Alan, Peter's twin brother," said Janice, "non- identical, as you can see. The girl is Alan's daughter, Jamie." "Alan Cochran...," said Julia, frowning. "Did he used to live in Baltimore, by any chance?" "Yes, he did," said Janice. "How did you know that?" "Oh, reporters get to hear all manner of things," said Julia, vaguely, her attention now focused entirely on Alan Cochran. She had a calculating look in her eye, one Janice had seen before in other reporters when they scented a story. But there was something else there this time, a sort of hunger and a hint of ruthlessness. This was only the second time Janice had met Julia Tamm. She was still not sure whether or not she liked the woman. "I think I'll go over and introduce myself," said Julia, "and rescue Peter from his brother. See you later." So saying she headed off, Kate watching her leave wistfully. "That's one hot woman," she sighed. "Definitely my type." Kate was openly gay, something that had not affected sales of her wildly popular swimsuit calendar one bit "Yeah, you couldn't keep your eyes off her," chuckled Gina. "But you're right; she is hot. She'd fit right in at Tempest." "That's true," said Janice thoughtfully, watching as Julia engaged Alan in conversation, allowing her husband to slip away gracefully. Julia had the right body to be a model, and her ethnic background - a mother whose parents had been white and Asian, and a father whose parents had been black and Hispanic - had resulted in an exotic beauty that could have commanded large fees in the modeling world. TV journalism's gain was modeling's loss. Janice sighed wistfully, casting her gaze around the room. She was happy with how the wrap-party was going. The actual shooting of the video for Deathsperm's new single, 'Hail the Disemboweller', had only taken two days but the planning and preparation had taken several months. It was not the sort of thing Tempest usually did but they had the space, the band's leader was an old friend, and it sounded like it would be fun to do. The shoot had been a total success, everyone in the studio knew it, so now was a time to relax and kick back a little. Deathsperm front man Coyote Dingo- real name Jacob Horowitz- was deep in conversation with Nancy DeNiro, a stunning redhead and Tempest's top girl. Janice felt closer to Nancy than she did to any of Tempest's other models. This was partly an age thing - at thirty-two, Nancy was only four years younger than Janice herself where all her other models were in their teens or early twenties - but also because they had worked together for a decade-and-a- half now and were good friends. Nancy was due to fly to New York in eight hours time for a fashion shoot, but before then Janice had to take pictures of her for a men's magazine, the first time Nancy would have appeared naked in her fifteen year modeling career. She had decided that now her career as a model was winding down it was time to finally take the plunge. Janice suspected Nancy also wanted a set of photos showing her in her prime to remind herself in later years of just how beautiful she had been. It was an impulse she could understand and sympathize with. She wondered what Jacob thought about Nancy's body being on display for all to see. "He never gives up, does he?" observed Kate, lighting a cigarette. "Hey, he's a sweet guy!" said Gina. "He's been carrying a torch for Nancy for at least ten years. She always turns him down gently, but they're still friends." "I guess so," said Kate. "Nancy tells me he's flying out to New York next week to do a spot on a talk show. What a coincidence she'll be in town all that week on a fashion shoot, eh? What are the chances?" "Oh, you can be so cynical," said Gina, reprovingly. Janice had noticed Kate getting more cynical about romance since her own had broken up last year. She had taken the split really hard. "Looks like the rest of his band are putting the moves on our girls, too," said Kate. Since the Deathsperm video was being shot in the large, converted warehouse that housed Tempest it made sense for those of the agency's models who were available to feature in the video in the usual roles women had in such productions. That the band members would then cozy up to them was entirely predictable, but they did not appear to mind the attention. Having freed himself from his brother's clutches, Peter Cochran worked the room, sharing a few words with each group of people, before finding his way to Janice, Gina, and Kate. He was very, very good at schmoozing and networking. "Enjoying yourself?" he asked, giving Janice a kiss on the cheek. "Mostly," she said, smiling at him. The early passion of their relationship had long since cooled, but even after all these years, he was still extremely handsome, she thought. He was in good shape and appeared younger than his forty years, where his twin had let himself go, becoming overweight and looking a good ten years older. "I see my brother's getting as worked up at Julia as he did with me," observed Peter, nodding in their direction. "So I see," said Janice, glancing at them. Alan was gesticulating furiously, while keeping his voice low, as a determined looking Julia Tamm stabbed her finger at the air in front of his face. Janice wondered what they were arguing about, and also what had happened to her niece, who was nowhere to be seen. "Looks like the poor kid had enough and ran off somewhere to hide," said Kate, who had also noticed Jamie's absence. "You and I need to leave now, Kate," said Gina, looking at her watch. "Tom's expecting us at the restaurant." 'Tom' was Tom Hudson, a rising young movie star and Gina's fianc?. Kate would be the maid of honor when they wed. The two young women took their leave and when they had gone, Philip and Janice wandered over to join Nancy DeNiro and Coyote Dingo. The four were old friends, but Janice also liked to ensure things did not get awkward between Nancy and the Deathsperm front man, which given the latter's feelings for Nancy was always a possibility, if the alcohol was flowing and the two were allowed to talk for too long without someone else joining the conversation. Eventually, the wrap-party wound down, everyone drifted away, and only Peter, Janice, and Nancy remained. "Right," said Peter. "Time to get this show on the road. We only have a few hours to get Nancy's naked shoot done before she's to fly off to New York. And with that reception tonight, it's not like you and I have a lot of time either, honey." They moved to a smaller studio off the main one. Here, stills cameras, tripods, lights, reflectors, and the like had been set up around a large bed. Racks of designer clothes, unnecessary for this shoot, lined one wall, while most of another was taken up with a long dressing table, laden with cosmetics, costume jewelry, ashtrays, and the like. While Janice checked out the cameras, Nancy sat at the dressing table and started doing her make-up. Peter, standing next to her, picked up a piece of jewelry from the dressing table. It was a medallion, with what looked to be the image of some sort of angel or demon on its face. "Hmm, I don't remember ever seeing this here before," he said, turning it over in his hands. "Ugly-looking thing, too." "Let me see," said Nancy, reaching for it. Peter handed her the medallion. As she touched it, he felt a sudden tingling. "Hey, what was that?" said Nancy. She had felt it, too. "Probably static shock," said Peter. "One or other of us got charged up somehow and it transferred across when we were both touching the medallion." "So where'd it come from, anyway?" said Nancy. "Our costume jewelry doesn't usually look anywhere near as cheap and tacky as this thing." "Beats me," said Peter. "I'm sure it wasn't here before the wrap-party." "What are you two nattering about?" said Janice, walking over. "We're on a tight schedule here and don't have time to...hey!" "What's wrong?" asked Peter, alarmed by the sudden, stunned look on his wife's face. Speechless, Janice gestured at the mirror over the dressing table. Peter and Nancy turned, not sure at first what they were supposed to be looking at. Then it hit them. "We're changing!" shrieked Nancy, her voice sounding huskier than usual. "This is impossible!" croaked Peter, hands going to his face. His features were growing softer, those hands becoming more slender as his hair started to lighten and to lengthen. There was no denying the evidence of his eyes. Over the next twenty minutes or so he watched himself growing smaller, shoulders narrowing and hips broadening, changes that were happening in reverse for Nancy. As breasts started to bud from what had been the flat expanse of his chest, the truth dawned on him. It was Janice who blurted it out. "You...you're turning into each other!" she said, her voice betraying her astonishment. She watched in disbelief as Nancy's face gradually morphed into that of her husband, while Nancy's beautiful features slowly emerged from his, framed by the long red hair sweeping over his now slender shoulders. He started hyperventilating, his small, pert breasts heaving. He was going into shock. "Peter, Peter, stay with us!" Janice shouted, gripping his narrow shoulders. He looked up at her with Nancy's face, his lovely features reflecting his spreading stupor. "Wh..what?" he said. "Snap out of it!" she yelled, and that was enough to pull him back. The transformation had taken a half-hour, but now it was complete. Janice turned to see Nancy, now fully transformed into a doppelganger of her husband looking at them with concern. It was strange seeing that familiar male form clad in the short, red, fetish wear version of a wedding dress Nancy had been wearing for the Deathsperm video shoot. Her husband as cross-dresser was not a sight she cared for. Janice lit a cigarette, took a drag, then handed it to Peter. "Here," she said, "this will help." "But I don't smoke!" he protested in a sweet, high voice. "Nancy does," said Janice, "and since you have her body now you'll probably be feeling cravings for these pretty soon. Go on, take it." He did so reluctantly, looking awkward inhaling, but then his eyes widened in surprise. He took a second, longer drag, and exhaled slowly. "You were right," he said. "That *does* help." "Is she alright?" asked Nancy in Peter's baritone, already unconsciously using the female gender pronoun for Janice's transformed husband. "I'm fine," said Peter "Or at least as fine as can be expected in the circumstances. What the hell happened to us?" "The 'what' is obvious," said Janice, gingerly picking up the Medallion of Zulo by its chain, "it's the 'how' that interests me. Do either of you know where this thing came from?" They both shook their heads. "I've never seen it before," said Nancy. "Well it was both of you touching it at once that seemed to trigger your change. Try touching it again." They did, but to no effect. "No tingle," sighed Peter. "'Tingle'?" said Janice. "When we touched the medallion the first time," explained Nancy, "we both felt a tingling the entire length of our bodies. This time, nothing." "Maybe it only works on people once and you're stuck this way," said Janice, "or maybe it needs time to recharge before working again. Either way, we still have a job to do so, Peter, get out of those clothes and onto the bed, and you, Nancy, get out of that fetish wear and into Peter's clothes." "Wait," said Peter, realization dawning, "you want to do a nude photo spread of me for a men's magazine, your own husband?" "Our contract is for a spread of photos of Nancy's naked body," said Janice, "and right now, you're the one who has it. We don't have a lot of time so hurry up and get undressed. Nancy will help you with your make-up." Peter stared at her open-mouthed for a moment, then started unbuttoning his shirt. They were business partners and keeping their clients happy was as important to him as it was to her, but he was not as hard-nosed and practical as Janice. It amazed him how focused she could be, even in situations as weird as this one. "I...I'm not sure I'm going to be able to do this," he said, even as he was peeling his clothes off and passing them to Nancy. "You'll manage just fine, honey," said Janice, encouragingly. "This agency is as important to you as it is to me." Peter was a professional. He would do what was required of him, she was sure. Still, it was strange watching him gingerly feeling his new breasts and slowly running his hands over his now womanly hips while Nancy dressed herself in his clothes. Janice had seen Peter get dressed countless times over the course of their marriage, but with Nancy she could tell this was no longer her husband she was looking at. Nancy might now have his shape but she did not have his way of moving. No, she moved more gracefully, with an almost unconscious elegance and...sensuality? Janice was suddenly hit by the realization that while watching her, watching someone who appeared to be yet who wasn't her husband, she had been getting turned on. Even knowing it was Nancy, she had started having erotic thoughts about the person in front of her. She became flustered, could feel herself blushing. "I'll go and check the cameras again," she blurted out, hurrying over to them. Fiddling with the cameras, adjusting and readjusting the tripods wasn't really necessary, but it gave her something to do with her hands, a welcome distraction as she watched Nancy doing her now naked husband's make-up. When it was done, Nancy led Peter over to the bed. She helped him assume a suitable pose while Janice climbed a tall step ladder that enabled her to look down on him from above. "OK, baby," she said, "that's good, but spread those legs a little more and let's have a pout." The camera motor whirred, shutter firing like a machine gun. "OK, now hood those eyes seductively and give me some more pout. The guys seeing these pictures have to think you want them to fuck you, so you need to project that. Come on, baby, give me what I need. Aaah, yes, that's good, that's very good." Again, the camera motor whirred. Peter was photographed on his back, on his front, on his side, on all fours, cupping his breasts while thrusting them at the camera, and in many more poses. In most of the shots, he was also required to project sexual longing, to look like a woman desperate for a strong man to take her, and give her the fucking of her life. At the end of the session, he was exhausted. "Jeez, I never knew faking passion could be so tiring," he said. "Welcome to being a woman," said Nancy, dryly, and she and Janice both burst into laughter. "OK, Peter," said Janice, still chuckling, "Nancy DeNiro needs to get to the airport and off to New York. Let's try the medallion again to see if we can switch you both back." "It's gone!" said Nancy from the dressing table. "We left it here, I know we did." All three of them searched the dressing table frantically. They searched underneath it and then they searched the area up to and around the bed. It was nowhere to be found. Somehow, the medallion had vanished. "OK," said Janice, "let's not panic. I can't understand where the medallion has got to, but it may still turn up. In the meantime, we have to get you to the airport, Peter. You've got a week-long shoot in New York ahead of you. We don't have a lot of time, so you need to get dressed and on your way." "A week!" protested Peter, as Janice steered him over to the clothes racks, "I can't pretend to be Nancy for a week!" "You'll do just fine, honey," she replied, as she and Nancy selected suitable clothing for him to wear. His protests continued as they dressed him. He was still protesting as they led him, slightly unsteady on his four inch heels, to the car. "Look!" said Janice, getting exasperated, "You have to do this, and you know how to. You've worked in the fashion industry for twenty years and seen hundreds of shows. You know what's required of you and you'll do it. Check in for your flight will already have started, so we need to get you to LAX airport *now*!" Peter's grumbling subsided as they drove, and by the time they got to the airport he had pulled himself together. "You'll have one bit of relief from the shooting sessions," said Nancy. "Jake's flying in to New York to do a talk-show midweek, and we arranged to have dinner together afterwards. A meal with an old friend will be just what you need by then, believe me." Janice exchanged an air-kiss with her husband, careful not to muss his make-up, and then he passed into the departure lounge and out of their sight. "So what do you want to do now?" she said to Nancy. "I'm not sure," said Nancy. "Until now we've had lots that had to get done, and that kept my mind off what had happened to us." "We - I mean Peter and Janice Cochran - have to attend a formal reception tonight, but our time's our own 'til then. What say we go grab a coffee and a bite to eat somewhere where we can talk?" "Sounds good to me," said Nancy, offering her arm. Janice took it, feeling an odd tingling of excitement as they made their way back to the car. Damn it, she was getting turned on again by this Peter who was not Peter. She was finding this whole situation incredibly disorienting and confusing. It didn't get any less confusing over coffee and cornbread either. The two were old friends, and they talked together and made each other laugh as they always had. Except that every now and then one of them would pause mid-sentence as their situation hit them again. Janice had to keep reminding herself she wasn't taking to Peter, albeit a Peter suddenly able to talk and open up to her as one woman does to another - an incredibly appealing combination. For her part, Nancy would be chatting animatedly then suddenly stop, looking at her hand as if seeing it for the first time - which, in terms of that hand being at the end of her arm, she almost was - before shaking her head and continuing. Janice was intrigued by this. "There's something I don't understand," she said. "Peter went to pieces when he turned into you and was only able to function at all when we took charge, but you seem to be handling it a lot better. How come?" "I'm not really sure," said Nancy. "You never know how you'll react in an extreme situation until you find yourself in it. Yes, this is weird, but it's *manageably* weird, y'know? It's not like I turned into a cat, or something. I'm still human, still have two arms, two legs, and a head. 'Course, I now have something between those legs that wasn't there before, which may be the weirdest part of this. Still, I have to say I'm curious about what it feels like to use it. You bet I'll be doing some experimenting in that department." She stopped, gave Janice a momentarily startled look, then burst out laughing. "What's so funny?" said Janice. "It's just... I suddenly realized I was calmly explaining to you how I was intending to play with your husband's cock, and..." She started laughing again, and Janice joined her. "God, this really is the strangest situation imaginable, isn't it?" said Janice. "Got that right," agreed Nancy. "So what now?" "Now we go home," said Janice, signaling for the bill, "To your place?" said Nancy, giving her a quizzical look. "To my place, yes. That's where all the clothes that now fit you are, and time's getting on. It's already late afternoon. We only have a few hours to get ready for that reception." The reception was a black-tie event organized by the Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce, and as they listened to the after dinner speeches, Janice kept stealing sideways glances at Nancy. Helping her get dressed for it had been... interesting. As she was tying Nancy's bowtie for her she happened to look up to see Nancy smiling down at her. Their eyes had met, and they had held each other's gaze for just a moment or two too long for it to be entirely innocent. Janice had blushed again then, felt her ears burning, and was thankful her make-up probably hid the worst of it. Something was happening between them and it both worried and excited her. Later, they moved out to the balcony so Janice could have a cigarette. After Nancy had lit it for her, Janice looked at her quizzically. "Not tempted to have one yourself?" she said. "No, not at all," said Nancy. "I only really started, back when I was a teenager, because I was a model and it was something just about every model did. I suppose it does help suppress your appetite. Now that I have the body of someone who's never smoked, I can't honestly say I miss it. I'll bet by the time Peter gets back she's on a pack a day, though." "Why do you do that?" asked Janice. "Do what?" "Use the female gender pronoun when you mention Peter." "It just seemed the natural thing to do," said Nancy. "Can you honestly say you see a man when you look at him now?" "No," said Janice, "God, this is all so strange!" "Isn't it, though?" "So," said Janice, "do you see yourself as a man now?" "Do you see me as one?" said Nancy, levelly. "Yes," said Janice, quietly. "I know who you really are but, yes, I look at you and I can only see a man, my husband." There was an awkward pause, then the band struck up a tune. Nancy held out her hand. "Let's go inside and dance," she said. They danced several numbers, smiling at each other but saying little. Dancing was a way of being close and remaining apart at the same time, of being together but not talking. Janice needed that break. Then the band played a slow number. Janice and Nancy looked at each other for a second or two, and then they were dancing cheek-to-cheek, bodies pressed together. Inevitably, there came a moment when they paused to gaze into each other's eyes. Nancy lifted Janice's chin, they kissed, and that was it. Janice still had her misgivings, but none of them seemed to matter anymore. "Let's get out of here," whispered Nancy. Janice nodded, and soon they were heading back to her place. The sex that followed was her first in several years, and the best she had ever had. "Wow," she said, as she lay back afterwards, sweaty, sated, and happy, "Just, wow!" "Yeah, that was amazing," said Peter. And it *was* Peter now. After what had just happened between them there was now way Janice would ever again think of him as Nancy, or as a woman. "I'm surprised, though," she said. "I mean, I know why I was attracted to you - you're like a newer, more exciting version of Peter - but why were you attracted to me? You never seemed very interested in sex before, with anyone. Have you always had a secret interest in women?" "I was bi but uninterested," said Peter. "I think I just had a low sex drive. That changed when I did." "Mmmm, I'll say," said Janice. Peter stayed the night, of course, and every night of the week after that. Janice soon realized she never wanted him to leave. Two days after that first, magical night together, Janice was in her office at Tempest when Kate McGowen swept in, grinning from ear to ear. It was a long time since Janice had seen her so happy. She knew at once what this had to mean. "Who is she?" she asked, smiling. "Julia Tamm," sighed Kate. "We spent all last night together. I think I'm in love." "Julia Tamm?" said Janice. "That *is* a surprise." "An unbelievably wonderful surprise," agreed Kate, beaming again. "I couldn't believe it when she rang and asked me out. Seems she was as attracted to me as I was to her. I feel good about this. I think we could have a real future together." "I hope you're right," said Janice. "Lord knows, you deserve some happiness. No one will be happier than me if you guys make a go of it." Janice was doing several magazine shoots with Kate that week, so they saw a lot of each other over the next few days. Julia Tamm stopped by several times, usually with her daughter in tow, and Janice got to see them together. The change she noticed in Kate over that short period was remarkable. It was as if she was emerging and bathing in the sunlight again after a long, self-imposed incarceration. The cynicism was gone, replaced by an almost giddy joyousness. Janice understood that joyousness. It was something she was feeling herself. Peter was with her at Tempest constantly, surreptitiously learning from her the business side of things that the original Peter had handled for so long. If the staff at Tempest noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Peter Cochran were more affectionate with each other than they had been in years, they said nothing. They exchanged quick smiles when Peter and Janice's backs were turned, however. Happy bosses equal a happy workplace, and Peter and Janice were looking very happy indeed. That week was like a second honeymoon for Janice, but she knew it had to end. All too soon the week was up and Nancy - the former Peter - was in the air and on her way back to Los Angeles. Despite searching for the medallion, neither she nor Peter had been able to find it. Now she hoped they never would. As she drove to the airport, Janice wondered how she was going to break the news. She tried to imagine the scene. Perhaps they would all be sitting together in a restaurant. Peter - the original Peter - would be sitting opposite them, in Nancy's body, looking lovely in a designer evening dress. Janice would take the former Nancy's hand and announce: "Peter, I'm surprised you haven't guessed the truth! Nancy and I have fallen in love, so she's going to stay in your body, permanently!" No, that would never do. She might be in love with Peter now, but she still had feelings for her husband. She would have to find a better way to handle it. She found Nancy sitting smoking a cigarette in an area of LAX that allowed it, her baggage stacked on a trolley beside her. Nancy DeNiro had always been a beautiful woman and she still was, despite not being the same person she had been. Even knowing the truth, it was hard to think of her as ever having been a man. "Hey," said Janice, walking over to her. "Oh, Janice," said Nancy, stubbing her cigarette out and getting to her feet, a guilty expression on her face, "you startled me." "So how was the trip?" asked Janice, as they wheeled her baggage out to the car. "OK, I suppose," shrugged Nancy. Janice was puzzled by her attitude. She wondered what was going on but decided not to press the issue. As they were loading the bags into the trunk, Janice's cell phone rang. "Yes?" she said. "That's right, I'm Alan Cochran's sister- in-law. They've done what? When? Yes, alright, we'll be right over?" "What is it?" asked Nancy, concern in her voice. "It's Alan and Jamie. That was their landlord. They've disappeared." "We have to go over there right now," said Nancy. It was the first time either of them had visited the apartment. Alan and Jamie had not lived in an area you wanted to visit from choice. The landlord opened the door to them. He was short, balding, and the wrong side of fifty. His grease-stained T-shirt and baggy flannel trousers were prevented from meeting by the rolls of flab that spilled out between them. It was not a pretty sight, nor was it made any more attractive by the way he leered at Nancy. "Ah, ladies," he said, in a wheezy voice, "come in, come in." "There was a videotape left on the kitchen table," he said, ushering them into the hallway. "I took the liberty of viewing it. It's queued up in the VCR in Mrs. Kaminski's apartment She's visiting her son today." Reluctantly, they followed him into the apartment. It smelled of cats. Fortunately, he left the front door open. "It's very short," he said, activating the remote. "I only looked at it 'cos they skipped out owing rent and I figured it might tell me where they went." The tape opened with a partial shot of someone obviously leaning over the camera in order to turn it on. As he straightened up and then went and sat on the kitchen chair facing the camera, they got a clear view of him. It was Alan. "My name is Alan Cochran," he said, looking directly into the camera, "and I'm making this tape to explain what I'm doing and why. As those of you who know me will know, I've recently experienced a long run of bad luck. Foolishly, I stole a large sum of money from my employers back in Baltimore, Grimwood Financing. When this was discovered, I felt I had no choice but to get out of Baltimore. So I took my daughter, Jamie, and drove us both out here to Los Angeles. I chose L.A. because this is where my brother lives. Unfortunately, it looks as if my past is about to catch up with me, so it's time for us to get out of town again. I think I've figured out a way for us to vanish, to start new lives where no one knows us. All that I ask is that you give us that chance and don't come looking for us." He turned to one side, looking out of camera frame, and said: "Jamie? It's your turn now, baby." Then he got up, walked out of camera shot and, a few seconds later, Jamie walked into shot. "Thanks, Dad!" she said, looking out of shot and smiling, before turning to face the camera. "Hi, I'm Jamie Cochran," she said, smiling shyly. "Like Dad said, he's made a mess of things and now we have to leave town again. But he really has come up with a great way of us starting a new life, with new names, somewhere else. I wish we didn't have to do this but he's my Dad, he needs me, and I love him. So please don't try and find us. We'll be just fine." Jamie got up, walked out of shot, then someone turned the camera off. "And that's all there is," said the landlord, popping the tape out of the VCR and giving it to Janice. "Oh, and this was stuck to it," he said, handing her a yellow post-it note. It read: 'To Uncle Peter and Aunt Janice.' The landlord led them up to Alan and Jamie's apartment, let them in, then left them to look around. "Look at this," said Janice, picking something up from the sofa It was a copy of the Kate McGowen swimsuit calendar. "So Alan was a fan," said Nancy. "So were lots of guys. That was the best-selling calendar in America this past year." "Yeah, but this one has been really well-thumbed. You don't think he used it to...?" "Don't go there!" said Nancy, stopping Janice in her musings. "Yeah, you're probably right," said Janice, thumbing through the calendar as Nancy headed for the kitchen. Someone started hammering on the front door. "Cochran!" said a voice. "You in there?" Janice opened the door to be confronted by a small, thin man with close-cropped blond hair. He had a small scar over his right eye, and radiated menace. The man pushed his way past Janice into the apartment then turned and glared at her. "Who are you?" he demanded, "And where's Cochran?" *I'm Janice Cochran, Alan's sister-in-law. He and my niece have vanished, several days ago by the looks of things. Who are you, if I may ask?" "One of his creditors. He owns me a pile of dough," said the man, voice hostile. "Is he comin' back?" "No, he's not," said Janice, starting to feel threatened. "He left a message saying they were starting a new life - he didn't say where - and that we shouldn't try looking for them." Just then, Nancy emerged from the kitchen. "Hello," she said, "is there a problem?" On seeing her, the newcomer's whole demeanor changed. "Nancy DeNiro!" he said, his face lighting up, "I'm a huge fan of yours!" "Why, thank you," she said, as he took her hand and shook it vigorously, before standing back and running his gaze over her approvingly. "I love those shoes," he said eying her four-inch heels enviously. "Jimmy Choo's?" "Why, yes," said Nancy, surprised, "yes they are." "Thought so," he said. "Well, I'm sorry to have disturbed you, ladies. I'll let myself out." And with that, he was gone. "What was *that* all about?" asked Nancy, as Janice gave a huge sigh of relief. "That man was a thug," said Nancy, "some sort of enforcer sent to find Alan. I think he owed money to some very unsavory people." "A thug?" said Nancy. "Someone knowledgeable about women's shoes who obviously coveted my Jimmy Choo's?" "OK, that was a little weird, I agree." said Janice. "So what do you want to do now?" "Now?" said Nancy. "Now I guess we give the tape to the police and file a missing person's report. There's no evidence of foul play, and the tape seems kosher, but you never know. Then, I want to go home." Their side trip to Alan's apartment had been a relief, a welcome distraction from the decision Janice knew she had to make, but it was a decision she realized could not be put off any longer. "Before we go any further, we have to talk," she said, "about us. Something has happened, and it needs to be out in the open." Nancy's shoulders sagged. "Is it that obvious?" she said. "Yes, I suppose we've known each other too long to be able to keep secrets from one another." "What are you talking about?" asked Janice, puzzled. "I didn't mean for it to happen," said Nancy, "not at first. But when it did, it just seemed so natural, and it felt so good. I was doing a good job on the shoot - I've been involved in the industry long enough to be able to do that stuff - but I was terribly lonely in New York. When Jake flew in midweek, and we had dinner together, it was wonderful. I've known him years, but our conversation this time, with him believing me to be Nancy, was just magical. I invited him back to my hotel room, we talked some more, and I couldn't help thinking how strange our situation was. He had been carrying a torch for Nancy for years and I found myself idly wondering what sex as a woman - what sex with him - might be like. We'd both had a few drinks and were feeling mellow. I leaned in to him, he kissed me, I kissed him back, one thing led to another, and Jake finally got lucky." "You had sex with Jake?!" said Janice. "Wow. I never would've expected that." It appeared she had not inherited the original Nancy's low sex-drive, suggesting the relationship between mind and body was more complicated that Janice had thought. "Yeah, well...waitaminute. You didn't know? So why did you say we had to talk about us?" "Ah," said Janice, sheepishly, "it wasn't just you. While you were gone, I've been having sex with Peter...Nancy... no, *Peter*! He and I have become very close." "'Close'?" said Nancy, " as in not just sex but having feelings for each other?" "Yes. I didn't mean for it to happen but, yes, I've fallen in love with him." "Well," said Nancy, after a pause, "he's certainly a very good-looking guy." Janice stared at her incredulously for a moment, then they both started to laugh. "You're not angry?" she said. "No," said Nancy, "no I'm not. Actually, I'm kinda relieved. While I was in New York, I had a lot of time to think about my situation and what I'd do if we never found the medallion again. And you know what? I decided I'd be OK with that. Better than OK, in fact. I'd been in a rut for a long time. Everything in my life had become routine, almost mundane. You and I were happy enough together, but we hadn't had sex in years. It was like there was no excitement anymore. Then the medallion happened. My night with Jake happened. I suddenly felt more alive than I had in years. And I knew that I didn't want to go back to being Peter Cochran. He feels the same, I hope?" "Oh yes," said Janice, relieved. "He wants us to stay together for ever." "I'm glad." said Nancy. "There's just one thing you have to promise me." "What's that?" "That you and I will always be friends," said Nancy. "You're a big part of my life and I couldn't bear to lose you." "Of course you will, silly," said Janice, laughing. "I wouldn't have it any other way." "So now you're going to drive me home?" "Yes." "To Nancy's apartment?" "Yes." "Good. I'm looking forward to settling in there. I wonder what Jake will think of it...?" The following morning, at the Tempest offices, Janice had an unexpected visitor. Sitting on the edge of her desk, she eyed the elegant and confident young woman reclining in the chair in front of it approvingly. Looking back, it was strange how she had not much cared for Julia Tamm the first few times they met. When Julia took out a cigarette, Janice reached for her own lighter. "Thanks," said Julia, leaning forward to accept the light. She inhaled, glanced at the framed covers on the walls of the office, then exhaled a long streamer of smoke. "I don't recognize the Newsweek cover," she said, nodding at the one featuring Janice's famous portrait of war hero Sgt. John Geddes, "but that Vogue cover is iconic. Sabrina never looked more glamorous or more beautiful." They chatted about Sabrina for a while, and about Kate McGowen. "So," said Janice eventually, "what did you want to see me about?" "I've come to return something I took from you," said Julia, pulling a familiar item out of her purse and holding it up by its chain. "It's called the Medallion of Zulo." 2. Alan: "I am totally fucked!" muttered Alan Cochran, furtively taking another slug of cheap bourbon from the bottle concealed in the brown paper bag he held. He was sitting in MacArthur Park, oblivious to the spaced-out junkies on the benches adjacent to his. Alan had his own problems. He had just blown his last few bucks in a backstreet poker game. He and his daughter were now penniless. How was he going to make the rent on their apartment? How were they going to feed themselves? Even fleeing Los Angeles before that bitch Julia Tamm ratted him out now seemed impossible. He cursed his brother bitterly. When he got in deep in Baltimore, losing all the money he embezzled from his employer to feed his gambling habit and still managing to go a further fifty grand in debt to local gangsters, he was sure Peter would help him out. Fleeing the city just ahead of an encounter with the goon sent to work him over had been a lucky break, but it had been his last one. Peter had refused to give him any money at all. His uptight brother probably thought of this as 'tough love' but if, as he was sure would happen, the boys in Baltimore sent someone after him, it was the sort of tough love that would get him killed. Him, and maybe Jamie, too. "Oh jeez, what have I done?" he sobbed, putting his head in his hands. He had made a total mess of his life. Jamie was the one accomplishment he could be proud of, but now he feared he had put her life in jeopardy. It was time to go home and level with her. She was an extremely bright kid - "Must've got that from her mother," he thought, ruefully - and would soon grasp all the implications when he laid things out for her. Jamie clearly loved him, far more than he thought he deserved, and imagining the look on her face when she realized just how badly he had screwed up their lives was painful to contemplate. But it was time to finally bite the bullet. When he got back to the apartment, there was no sign of Jamie. She spent a lot of her time online at a nearby cyber caf?, so Alan figured that was where she must be. "Probably just as well," he thought. "I'll make more sense when I've had a few hours to sleep off the drink." Staggering into his bedroom, he was surprised to find a fifth of bourbon on his bedside table. He did not remember leaving it there, but it had been opened and some of it drunk, so he supposed he must have. He sat on the bed and picked up the bourbon. He hadn't intended drinking any more but the booze was here and Jamie wasn't, so why not? "What the hell," he said, unscrewing the cap, "bottoms up!" Within a few minutes, he had drained the bottle. Letting it slip from his fingers, he flopped back on the bed, and was almost instantly asleep. His sleep was long and deep, his dreams filled with strange lights and noises. At one point he almost woke, feeling as if he was being lifted in giant hands and carried along, but he could neither fully wake nor hold onto that feeling. Slipping back into sleep, he slumbered on, feeling warm and pleasant all over, as if he had been immersed in a warm bath. When he eventually woke, he felt refreshed, but strange. He had some difficulty focusing his eyes, but when he did he was astonished by how far away the ceiling seemed. There were birds painted on it, cute cartoon birds, and clouds. Turning to one side, he saw that he was caged in. The bed was surrounded by tall thick, wooden bars. As he wondered where he was, and what was going on, he became aware of two things simultaneously: first, he had wet himself, soiling whatever the garment was around his crotch, a garment so snug he couldn't even feel his penis in it; second, he had been contentedly and unconsciously sucking away on something since waking. He raised a hand to investigate, freezing as it came into view. It was chubby, the skin hairless and smooth as a...baby's? In that instant, he knew with total certainty what had happened to him, why everything seemed so big, what that garment was around his crotch, and what he was sucking on. Spitting out the pacifier, he let out a piercing scream, and then started crying uncontrollably. The door to the bedroom flew open and what appeared to Alan to be a giantess swept in, concern written on her face. He recognized her immediately. It was Julia Tamm. "What is it, sweetie?" she said, lifting him from the crib, holding him against her chest and gently patting his back. "Have you wet yourself? Why yes, you have. Don't cry now, baby, Mommy will fix it." Stunned by all this, Alan was even more stunned when Julia turned slightly, and he caught sight of himself in a mirror. He was a little girl! Maybe two years old, a large pink ribbon in her dark hair, diaper showing below the flared skirt of her short-sleeved pink dress, a surprised expression on her slightly Asian-looking face. "You must be wondering what happened to you," said Julia, laying him down gently on a pull-down diaper-changing shelf, "but let's get you cleaned up first." She removed the soiled diaper, dried and powdered him, then fitted him with a fresh diaper. Finally, he found his voice. "Wha' hoppen'?" he said, not noticing his difficulty with the words, or the little-girl voice he delivered them in. She sat him on her lap and told him a fantastic story of magic medallions and identity-swaps, one he would never have believed if not for the evidence of his own altered form. When she had finished, she retrieved the pacifier, and placed it back in his mouth. "There, isn't that better?" she said and, oddly, it was. Sucking on that rubber teat had a hugely calming effect on Alan and that was what he needed right now. She put him in his playpen, amid a large array of soft toys. She fluffed his skirt, kissed him on the forehead, and then gazed at him through love-filled eyes. "Ooh, you're just so cute!" she cooed, ruffling his hair. "OK now," she said, "you play quietly with your toys. Mommy will be just outside." With that she left the room. Sucking away on his pacifier, Alan looked around him, calmly assessing the stuffed toy animals surrounding him. He waddled over to the enormous Teddy bear as large as he now was, and cuddled up to it. It was, he somehow knew, his favorite. Alan was vaguely surprised by how comfortable and familiar he was finding all this now that the initial shock had passed, how easy it was to think of Julia as 'Mommy', but he found it difficult to work up any sort of curiosity about why, or any anger at her for turning him into an infant girl. All he felt towards her was love, and all that really seemed to matter was feeling loved and safe in return. He had no conception of time, no idea how long had passed as he happily played with his toys, but eventually Julia came in, lifted him out of his playpen, and carried him through to the kitchen. She placed him in a baby's high chair, put a napkin around his neck to catch the spills, then picking up a spoon and a bowl of baby food, she fed him. "C'mon, Maisie," she said, "open wide for Mommy." He did, and she spoon fed him the food. "There's a good girl," she cooed, when he finished the final spoonful. Wiping away the food that had managed to get smeared around his mouth, she lifted him out of the high chair and carried him through to the living room. Sitting on a sofa, she sang lullabies, gently rocking him to sleep. He was vaguely aware of being carried to his bedroom and placed in his crib, but after that he knew no more. The following morning, after being fed, clothed, and freshly diapered, he was carried out to the car and strapped into the baby seat. This done, he watched as Julia - as his Mommy - pulled the sun visor down and checked her make up in the mirror. He thought she was very pretty, and said so. "Why thank you, sweetie!" beamed Julia, kissing him on the forehead. "Now let's get you to daycare." The daycare center was little more than a ten-minute drive from their house. When they arrived, he was carried inside, handed over to one of the young women staffing the center, and immediately placed in an extra large playpen with a half-dozen other toddlers. After kissing him goodbye, Julia left. He watched through the large, ceiling-to-floor windows as, once outside, she paused to light a cigarette before getting into their car and driving off. Alan was unsure of himself with the other children, preferring to play by himself. Even so, the day passed quickly, the toddlers having play sessions followed by naps, and being fed and having their diapers changed as and when required. He was surprised when Julia returned to take him home - surely the day wasn't over already - but also very glad to see her. When they got home, Julia put him in his playpen, then carried in bags of groceries from the car. She had been shopping before coming to pick him up. He could hear noises coming from the kitchen as she prepared food. A little later, she removed him from the playpen and sat on the sofa, cuddling him and singing lullabies. As intended, he was soon asleep. At one point, he was briefly awoken from his sleep by a woman's voice. "Oh, they're so adorable when they're that age!" she said. Alan opened his eyes, blearily focusing on the newcomer. It was Kate McGowen. As he watched, Julia slid an arm around Kate's waist and Kate rested her head on Julia's shoulder. This was interesting, but not enough to stop him falling back asleep. And that was the pattern his life settled into. Days spent at the daycare center, and evenings when more often than not Kate joined them. Kate was nice. She would play with Alan and give him cuddles. He liked Kate a lot. The day came when Julia told him Kate was moving in with them, which made him very happy. Now he would have two Mommies. 3. Jamie: Jamie Cochran took another furtive drag on her cigarette, blowing the smoke out her bedroom window while watching Julio, a local boy around her age, dealing drugs below. She hoped her Dad wouldn't smell the smoke on her when he eventually got back to their seedy apartment. Not that he would be capable of smelling anything if he came back in the same state he did yesterday, she thought, idly playing with her locket. Jamie hated it when he got that drunk. It was no fun trying to wrestle his unconscious form into his bed. She was small for her fourteen years where he was a full-grown man, and overweight. Finishing her cigarette, Jamie stubbed it out on the window sill before tossing the butt into the street below. She then popped a breath mint in her mouth and sprayed air- freshener around the room. Her Dad would probably be in no state to smell anything, but Jamie was as careful and methodical in this as in most things she did. Nor was her smoking the only secret she kept from her father. Pulling the Kate McGowen swimsuit calendar from under her bed, she lay back and flicked through its well-thumbed pages, gazing wistfully at the long-limbed beauty she longed for with all her heart. Jamie sometimes wondered how her Dad would react if she told him she was gay, but she had never quite managed to summon the courage to do so. However, of more immediate concern to her was how she was going to react when she finally got to meet the object of her desire. What would she say? Would the fact that she was captain of her school's debating society impress Kate, her high IQ, or that she always got rave reviews for her acting whenever the school put on a play? Probably not, she decided. "God, I'd better not come across as a total dork!" she said out loud. The prospect of being in the same room as Kate, of actually *talking* with her, was all that made being here in Los Angeles at all tolerable to Jamie. She missed Baltimore, missed her home and her friends, and had protested strongly when her father had woken her in the middle of the night, told her to grab everything she could carry, then set off across country in their car. Five days later they ended up here, in this shabby apartment building in a seedy part of town. That was two weeks ago and they had been here ever since. Her father refused to explain why they had to flee Baltimore, but Jamie knew it had to be something bad. She was pretty sure it involved money, and probably gambling debts. He had been in a downward spiral since her mother died. Thinking of her mother, Jamie opened the locket she always wore around her neck, the locket that had been her mother's. Inside were photos of her mother and father taken on their wedding day, and a lock of her own hair, snipped from her head and placed in there a few days after her birth. The locket was where her mother had kept mementos of the happiest days of her life. Snapping the locket shut, Jamie examined her reflection in the mirror on the closet door, taking in the mousey hair, long face, and a body almost entirely lacking the adult curves that should have started arriving by now. She considered it a cruel joke by Mother Nature that she was mature for her years emotionally and intellectually, more so than any of her friends, and even thought of as a prodigy by her teachers, while at the same time underdeveloped physically. It was pleasant to fantasize about Kate sweeping her off her feet when they met, but Jamie harbored no illusions about Kate seeing her as anything other than the scrawny child she appeared to be. Still, just being near Kate and basking in her presence would be enough. It would have to be. The apartment door flew open, startling her. "OK, baby," said her father, Alan Cochran, grinning at her from the doorway, "let's get to this wrap party my brother's throwing." The trip to Tempest's studio was more of a white-knuckle ride than Jamie liked. Her father had been drinking and should not really have been driving at all. He drove fast and recklessly. It was at times like these Jamie wished she was old enough to legally take the wheel herself. She knew how to drive, having learned how on the roads of her friend Anne's family's estate when she had stayed with Anne last summer break. Despite being a couple of months younger than Jamie, Anne already had the body of a young woman and could easily pass for eighteen or nineteen, which Jamie envied her even more than she did her family's affluence. "Dad, slow down!" she urged, but he just gave her that dopey grin again. It came as a great relief when the car finally screeched to a halt outside the converted warehouse that housed Tempest. That they had arrived unscathed and unarrested was a welcome surprise. Once inside, her father made a beeline for his brother, Jamie tagging along behind, eagerly scanning the studio for Kate McGowen. There were some really hot looking women present wearing the sorts of outfits seldom seen outside the pages of a fetish wear catalog, and she found herself blushing as she surreptitiously and appreciatively looked them over. Then she spotted her aunt talking with Gina Carter, who she knew from the gossip magazines was Kate's best friend, and another woman she recognized from local TV news. But there was no sign of Kate herself. Where could she be? Jamie breathed a sigh of relief and longing when Kate emerged from the bathroom. She was sniffing and rubbing her nose. Jamie figured she must have a cold, and wondered why her aunt frowned at her when Kate joined the other women. She saw the looks Kate gave the TV woman, could see she was attracted to her, and felt an instant pang of jealousy. Jamie's attention was so focused on Kate that the conversation between her uncle and her father only began to register with her when her Dad started shouting at his brother. "Look, man, you've got to loan me the money, you've just got to," he said, imploringly. "I really, really need it." "No, Alan," said Peter Cochran, firmly. "If I do you'll just blow it like you have every other time I've given you money. You don't get another cent off me until you pull your life together." "I'm begging you, bro," said her father, desperation in his voice. "You're my flesh and blood. You *have* to help me." "Alan Cochran?" said a female voice. It was the TV woman. She had walked over to them while Jamie stood aghast, watching her father and uncle argue. "My name is Julia Tamm. I'm with the L.A. Metro News Channel. I'd like to ask you a few questions." Her uncle used the distraction caused by her arrival to slip away. "Questions?" said her father, looking at his retreating brother's back in annoyance. "What questions could you possibly have for me? I only got into town two weeks ago, and I'm no one special." "You mean you're not the same Alan Cochran wanted by the Baltimore P.D. for embezzling thirty grand from the Grimwood Finance Company?" Jamie's stared open-mouthed at her father, whose face had drained of color. Grimwood Finance had been his employer in Baltimore. "How...?" he croaked. "I was raised in Bollmer," said Julia, using the natives' name for their city and smiling the smile of a shark, "and my parents still live there. They keep me up to date with the local news. A federal warrant hasn't been issued yet, so the local law here in L.A. isn't looking for you, but it's only a matter of time." "What-do-you-want?" he said through gritted teeth. "An exclusive interview. You either give me one or I let the cops know where you are." Jamie could take no more of this. She fled across the studio. Neither of the arguing adults noticed her leave. In the smaller studio off the main one, Jamie hid among the racks of designer clothes that lined one wall. It was worse than she had thought. Her father had stolen thirty thousand dollars! This was terrible. She knew it meant they were ruined. If that awful woman, the one Kate had looked at in a way Jamie longed to be looked at by her, went to the police before she and her Dad could move on, it was all over. He would go to prison, then what would happen to her? She hunkered down deeper among the racks, as if concealing herself here could hold the world at bay. The day had started out with such promise, she thought, sadly. They were going to a glamorous party, and she would finally get to meet Kate McGowen and to bask in her presence. Only it hadn't worked out that way. Everything had gone wrong. As she thought this, it slowly dawned on her just what the room she had hidden herself in actually was. Based on the stills cameras on tripods arranged around a bed at the far end of the room, it looked like they were ready to do a shoot here, possibly right after the party. If so, Kate might be involved in it. Then and there, Jamie decided to stay hidden where she was. From her place of concealment, Jamie witnessed several interesting things over the next few hours, the most interesting by far being her uncle switching bodies with Nancy DeNiro. That was a real shocker. She had never imagined such things were possible. Now that she knew they were, however, she realized that strange medallion could be the answer to all her problems. Jamie watched as Nancy and her aunt and uncle got to grips with the situation enough to realize they still needed to do the photo shoot that was supposed to be of Nancy but would now be of her uncle. They were clearly stunned by what had happened, but they still had a business to run. While they were focused on the shoot, Jamie slipped from her hiding place, grabbed the medallion, and quietly exited the room, all without being noticed. "Jeez, where have you been, Jamie?" said Alan Cochran, rushing to his daughter as she entered their apartment, and giving her a big hug. "I've been worried sick." "Daaaaaaad," she said, shaking herself loose. "I'm a big girl now. I can look after myself. I just had to get away when Julia Tamm started saying all those terrible things about you." "I'm afraid they're all true," he said, shoulders slumping. "So, did you agree to give her an interview?" asked Jamie. "No. I managed to put her off. Said I'd get in touch with her about it tomorrow." "So, what happens now?" "I know you've only just got back, but I need to head out," he said. "I've got to rustle up enough money so that we can get out of town fast if we have to." Jamie regarded her father, sadly. He had sobered up since the party, but there was still an air of desperation about him. He was out of his depth, thrashing about desperately as he fought to stay afloat. "Look, I know things have been going from bad to worse lately but I know I can turn it all around. I just...I just need to keep plugging away until my luck changes, then everything will be OK, you'll see." He thrust a twenty dollar bill into Jamie's hand before heading out: "So you can get something to eat. I'll probably be gone all night." After he had left, Jamie went to her room. Squatting on her bed, she placed the medallion on the covers in front of her, and regarded it thoughtfully. She now knew it was called the Medallion of Zulo, and exactly how it operated. Before coming back to the apartment, she had stopped off at the cybercaf?, done a web search on the medallion, and turned up a surprising amount of information. Most people coming across references to it would assume the medallion was about as real as Bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster, but she knew better. Jamie reached into her jacket and pulled out a sheaf of papers, printouts of WebPages she had looked up at the cybercafe. As well as those about the medallion, there were several more about Julia Tamm. These included a very useful interview from three months ago in which she had described her typical day, including the times she usually set off from work and returned home. It didn't include her address, of course, but there were several fan sites devoted to her and someone on one of these had discovered it and posted that information. She carefully read through all the biographical information she had amassed, then lay back on her bed, going over it all in her mind. Julia Sarah Tamm had been born here in Los Angeles twenty four years ago. An only child, she and her parents moved to Baltimore when she was 2 years old. She went to university in New York, where she graduated with a degree in journalism. She had worked the daytime shift at the Los Angeles Metro News Channel ever since. Her daughter, Maisie, was born two years ago. The father was one of her university professors, a married man who had never acknowledged the paternity. Julia never pressed the issue, apparently preferring to raise her daughter alone. She dropped her daughter off at a daycare center on her way to work every morning, and retrieved her on her way home in the late afternoon. The name and address of the daycare nursery was not public knowledge, not surprisingly, but fortunately Jamie did not need to know this just yet. Getting to her feet, Jamie picked up the medallion. It was time to put the first phase of her plan into action. Stripping her clothes off, she slipped the medallion chain over her head and retrieved one of her father's shirts from his bedroom. This was it, the moment of truth. Jamie hesitated, suddenly nervous about what she was planning on doing, but only for a second or two. Squaring her jaw, she slapped the shirt against the medallion that nestled between her underdeveloped breasts, gasping at the shock of the sudden tingle that spread through her body. Even knowing it was coming, it had still managed to surprise her. Jamie stood in front of a wall mirror, watching in fascination as the changes p