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A former undercover cop is forced to re-visit his last and toughest case. It wasn't much fun the first time. He certainly didn't want to meet that lot again. This gets a little dark and nasty in places so be forewarned. It has been sitting for many months, almost abandoned more than once, as others explored similar themes. I decided to finish it, so... For Anne... a friend, not always an easy thing. Thanks for the support. This is a work of adult fiction. No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected. Copyright KLS 2006. Luciana By Kristina.L.S. 1. Pete Collins suppressed a laugh as the thought wafted through his mind. He appraised his reflection and smirked. "Bloody hippie," he muttered to himself. Since his 'retirement' 2 years ago at the ripe old age of 30 he had relaxed just a pinch. The rigid self-discipline that has served him well for over 15 years was now not quite the Bushido style code he had lived by since discovering aikido as a skinny kid. He still practiced for 2 hours every morning, was as lean and probably fitter than he had been at 20. But he drank a little, coffee and wine. Red meat, yeah ate that too and the hair. Two years with only slight trims it now hung past his shoulders, when not pony-tailed. The rest of the squad would shit if they saw him now. That or break down in hysterical laughter. But he was as lean and deadly as ever. Well almost. He finished shaving and turned stark naked to find Sabina sitting in the doorway with an amused grin on her intelligent face. The soft brown eyes watched him closely. He reached down and grabbed a large flat hairbrush. "Come on then Sab, let's give that hair of yours a good brush." The eyes sparkled as she jumped up and headed out the door. Stopping only to check he was following. It took 10 minutes and when he came back with a coffee, milk and sugar, he couldn't take it straight, she was waiting for him. He sat beside her on the back step and looking down the valley draped his arm over her shoulders and gently tugged on her right ear. She lent into his hand to encourage him. "You like that huh. Belgians have the best ears. Very tuggable." She responded by pressing her head into his hand. Laughing aloud he looked at her with a big grin. "Are you sure you're a dog Sab. Not some alien pretending to be a dog while studying these weird beings called humans." She turned slightly while keeping the pressure on his hand and he could almost swear she winked. The long, silky black coat glistened with health. "Spoilt bitch," he muttered and then laughed again as she butted his hand for more attention. Obligingly he continued as his thoughts wandered. Two years ago he had finished the longest and most dangerous case he had ever been involved in, three and a half years start to finish. Finish being a rather loose definition. He was out because he'd be dead otherwise. Sure they'd shut down parts of the operation but they certainly hadn't 'finished' it. Hundreds, probably thousands of lives. Torn apart, for lust and profit. Human trafficking in young women and boys from all parts of the world to all parts of the world. Prostitution and drugs. He'd 'gone in' in Singapore as a wandering mercenary. Followed the trail for months slowly edging inwards. Thailand, the UK, France, Spain, Germany and finally Italy where he met her. The number 2 or 3. Luciana Alvi. Embittered plastic surgeon, psychiatrist and cold, heartless bitch. If any of the girls or boys needed a touch up or a little conditioning. Off to Luciana. Mentally and physically she changed them into what was desired. Compliant, beautiful play things for the rich and depraved. Depressingly there were many. He should have killed her that day when they raided the clinic. Could have but tried to preserve his cover. A futile gesture. She knew it was him anyway and it cost the life of a good cop. Another 6 months to wind things up and he was out. Mentally and physically drained. He had hocked himself to the hilt and bought this old cottage an hour out of the city. Semi rural and peaceful, 5 acres of near virgin bush in a sloping valley and a river, well more like a creek, at the bottom. He'd been here 6 months doing the odd handyman job to stop from getting bored. Was almost back to normal. Then he had met Bec. She was blond and blue to his brown and brown. 5'7 to his 5'11. Smart and tough. Soft and bubbly. Gentle and loving. Perfect. The first meeting was not particularly auspicious. A car full of young would be lovers had crawled along beside as she walked down the footpath. Coming out of the local general store he had caught the tail end of their not so subtle entreaties and watched as she had stopped and told them to piss off, with a very un-ladylike manner and accompanying gesture. When she suddenly had 5 very angry and apparently drunk young men surrounding her, poking and pulling her clothes, she blanched in fear. His stepping in to hopefully diffuse things had simply pulled the cork. They spun and circled, one producing a knife. He had gone into automatic cold and clinical combat mode. A gentle word to walk away had failed, as he knew it would. As knife man postured and took a half hearted swipe he had stepped and grabbed, twisted and spun, out and down. Knife man flipped under his own weight, his wrist snapped and shoulder dislocated. Moaning on the ground he was out. The suddenness and viciousness of his response had stunned the others and Bec. She watched horrified as the other 4 had charged en masse. He had spun and ducked and put all four down in seconds. Mainly bruising to flesh and ego. One probable broken nose from a palm strike he had pulled. Initially he had been charged. But after Bec's statement and then when his name started red lights flashing he had been released. All charges dropped. With a sigh he had headed out. It was all very well to save the lady from the dragon as long as she didn't see you doing it. As he went to cross to his car a hand had gently pressed his arm. Startled he stopped and realised just how woolly he had gotten. He had stared into those blue eyes and nodded at her thanks, apologising for the violent nature of his intervention. She had shrugged and with a soft kiss to the cheek and another thank you, wandered off. It took another month before he had the courage to ask her out. Eighteen months later. Well maybe tonight we'd see. "What do you reckon Sab. Could you handle another girl about the place? Of course you would still be number one. Bec will understand once you explain it to her. I know you like each other." Sabina pressed her head up into his armpit forcing a hug then shifted to get his hand in the right place. With a rueful smile he laughed and nodded. "Yep, she's an intelligent woman. I'm sure she will acknowledge your obviously superior position." Sabina turned to face him, Licked his face all over then trotted down the hill to do dog stuff. Or perhaps contact the mother ship. He stood and went inside to rinse his cup then grabbing his guitar headed out to the verandah once more. One of his aims on 'retiring' was to get his playing worthy of the instrument a 'retirement gift' from a Chinese luthier. He had been 'asked' by the local triad chief to 'amend' his shipments of exotic woods to import drugs. Pete had been the spearhead in cracking that one. It was a small body cutaway style. A finger-picking special. Rare Brazilian and European timbers formed into a beautiful and resonant shape that rang like a bell. Maybe in another 2 years if he worked at it he'd be good enough to own it. He ran through a few songs he liked then began working on 'Romeo and Juliet' the old Mark Knopfler thing. After an hour attempting to get the new chord changes fluid he packed it in for now. A few things to take care of, then the classic dinner and movie with his girl. Well hopefully his girl after tonight. They met up at the theatre entrance. He, soft cotton jacket over t-shirt and jeans. Bec, a flowing cotton dress with just a touch of flirty sass to it. Perfect. It was a pretty good chick flick if you believed the reviews. Easy going fun whatever, a little sappy maybe, but not bad. But then sappy was good for tonight. Patted his pocket with the tickets for a later session as they headed arm in arm toward the car park and a 10 minute drive to the restaurant. It was casual and they had eaten there before. Good food and atmosphere. A nice secluded table where a nervous guy could do the bended knee thing without attracting too much attention. He nervously flicked at the small red box in his coat pocket. A short gust caught the old ladies hat and whisked it away from her. He disengaged and four quick steps caught it. Handed it back and turned to see Bec standing at the edge of the footpath wide eyed and happy as she mouthed 'my hero'. Ten yards as he felt the sting. Saw the car mount the kerb and hit, tossing up and over and down to roll once and stop. Like a discarded toy thrown down in anger. The car had stopped as 3 men grabbed him and smoothly as a secret service phalanx picked him up and threw him into the back seat. Slammed the door and faded away. He saw the driver turn. Long black hair, pale skin and bright red lips. "Ooh you are gonna' be one sorry little man when we finish with you. Shouldn't mess with the big leagues." She laughed and started smoothly away as he faded out. 2. Bec awoke 48 hours later to find a large black man in smart casual clothes watching her closely. Starting slightly she winced in pain. He smiled gently and explained he was a former colleague of Pete' and hoped she could help them. She had already been told she was here for probably a month. Then, physical therapy for 6 to a year. Shattered left femur and tibia. Fractures to both clavicle', concussion. Sundry bruises and abrasions. Lucky they said. He studied her as though debating something. The story she told. The hat. Pete turning her way. Slapping a hand to his neck. A large man walking toward him with a big pistol at his side. Then the swirl of confusion and blackness. It fitted. She wanted to know what he knew. "We think Pete was grabbed by some people connected with his last case. Very professional, very dangerous people. We will try everything to get him back. But..." His voice trailed away as he wordlessly handed her a small red box. "If you need anything please call me." He sat his card on the bedside table and silently left. She looked down at the box in her hand. Opened it to see a gorgeous diamond and buttery gold ring. Trembling she lifted it out and squinted to read something written inside the band. 'Bec love forever Pete'. With tears rolling she mentally wandered future could be's and refused to acknowledge impossibility. "I'll be waiting Peter." Nine weeks later she drove Pete's old Subaru wagon up the track to his place. Thankfully it was Auto with power steering or she couldn't have done it. Sab was in the back. Dad loved all dogs. He was less sure about that now. Sabina was a hyper puppy. Too much for a 60 year old even if mostly well behaved. She needed attention and lots of exercise. Bec could barely hobble. But on home ground she would exercise herself, mostly. "Here we are girl, home. We'll keep things ready for Pete, eh Sabina." As Bec straightened on her cane Sabina dived out the window and ran in circles for a minute then spun and rushed back. Lunged upright on her back legs and landed both front paws on the woman's stomach. Her balance was perfect as Bec took almost no weight at all. The flash of fear faded as she realised Sab knew she was weak and adjusted accordingly. She leant slightly forward for a lick as Sab stretched and was off again down the valley. Watching with a smile and light giggle Bec turned and limped up the steps and inside. 3. Bright, almost painful lights, glaring through his closed eyes. He sensed no one close. Swung his legs up and sat. Sluggish and slow. How long? A plain concrete room, barred window with an angled louvre giving a view of sky. A metal cot frame bolted to the wall. Thin cotton mattress. No bed linen. No furniture or fixtures. A large prison cell. Took stock physically as he stood, stretched and tried a slow kata. Off balance and uncoordinated. Something tight wrapping his waist, hips to chest. Pinching and diminishing movement and breathing. Skin strangely smooth and hairless. Something caught in his hair. Slowly felt all over. Huh. Earrings. One in each. Nails, long, filed and rounded. Hair softer and silky. Stitches below his.... 'Oh shit!', empty scrotum. Fear struck like a baseball bat as he slumped back on the bed. 'No little Pete's now. Fuck!' Bit back a very uncharacteristic sob. He knew what Luciana could do. He was in big trouble. Checked the room thoroughly. Nothing he could use. Surprisingly, no cameras or mic's unless they were embedded somewhere. The room looked older than that. Still a possibility, but unlikely. Technology moved fast. The view panel clattered open and then slammed shut. Ten, fifteen minutes later she waltzed in. "Ah. How is our lovely guest today? Feeling refreshed Petra my dear." She laughed at the flare of anger in his eyes. "Stand pet!" He glared and didn't move as she lifted her hand with a small remote car alarm type device. Her smile got wider as she pushed the button. It struck deep inside. He curled attempting to clutch at a pain that was part of him. Radiated out from his gut. Slumped to the hard floor at her feet. Tried to hold back the moan he knew she wanted. "Painful, yes? I am assured it is excruciating and very effective. There will be no insolence. All key personnel have one of these and may use them freely. You cost us a great deal of money Judas. Or is that Judacia now? You have been here for 43 days. Your body is now hairless permanently. Your little gonads are gone. No interference with the implants that will smooth, soften and... well perhaps later. More than the initial treatments have already. Muscle tone is 'improving' nicely. Those rough little stitches you can still feel. That is where this marvellous little device is fitted. Nestling against your prostate. Very efficient. A few more shocks and impotence is assured. Not that that will be an issue for long. Another few months and you will be ready to start to repay." She reached over and stabbed a small syringe into his upper arm. "A relative of curare that causes temporary paralysis. I need to work on your face this afternoon and I don't want you to miss anything. Nose, brow, chin, lips and larynx, you will be just lovely. I am an artist after all. You will be conscious and aware. 'Feel' the knife, chisel and hammer, each tug on skin or muscle, each cut and stitch and yet there will be no tension to interfere with the end result. Primitive can be very sophisticated don't you agree. Well, perhaps you can't quite appreciate it at the moment, we will talk again tomorrow." She smiled widely and walked out as he tried to move. Slow and robotic. Panic threatened to take hold. Taking as deep a breath as possible he sought balance and slowly withdrew to a quiet place deep inside. He was lifted bodily and dropped unceremoniously onto a gurney. The man wheeling him was one of those. That day when Bec... Each time he had slipped into the dark he had been revived. She had sliced, pulled and injected. Hammered and filed. Finally stitched and bandaged. No anaesthetic then or later. The 'feeling' of having your facial bones reshaped by the tools used was truly more than anyone could deal with. If this was meant to soften him it would most surely work. That or drive him insane at which point it would no longer matter, to him anyway. The 'pleasant' after surgery visit was almost worse. As the pain rolled over and through him in waves, the simple 'solicitous' conversation had him shivering in fear and barely suppressing a sob more than once. As he lay securely bound in bandaged darkness his mind wandered into dark and lonely places best left unexplored as she teased, provoked and tormented. "Sleep well Petra dear. Soon you will be ready to pay your debts. As gorgeous and willing a plaything as anyone could wish. That fit and capable body coupled with your agile and treacherous mind will be a challenge. One I will cherish greatly." He could not see but he could 'feel' the beatific smile as Luciana whispered in his ear and then clip clipped from the room. Terror washed him. Drenched him. He was certain any animal predator would be sniffing and slavering in anticipation if they were close enough to smell his fear. Could he somehow win by evading her in death? Was that the way beyond? It had been 12 days she had said as she cut the bandages away and delicately as a mother with a newborn, wiped salves and ointments into his healing skin. "A few more days for the swelling and bruising to fade completely and you will see Petra dear. You will be so pleased. I do very good work. You will be just lovely." 4. He had tried to hide the shock that first time when he had been stripped naked, the wrapping on his waist cut away, his face wiped clean. The large wall mirror reflected an alien image. Intellect said it was him, but the emotions stirred by the image where enough to prompt a near faint. Oh sure, he had guessed at her game plan, but... The confronting reality was... Forcing himself to look he took a deep breath. His mother might recognise him, from a slight family resemblance. His face. Nose, chin, throat. All finer, more, 'delicate' looking. Skin smooth and clear. Brows, arched and... feminine. Lips, pouty and full. Hair silky and thick, like a 'Cosmo' cover shot. It was his face, but a younger more feminine version. His gaze wandered lower... chest and shoulders, thinner, with swollen nipples and slightly protuberant pecs. Budding breasts? A slight shiver followed that thought. His waist seemed to nip in. Not quite wasp like, but much trimmer than his previous 30 inches. And that exaggerated his hips and slightly fuller backside as he swept his eyes down his legs? smooth and slim. Slightly knobby knees, but still... feminine. His feet had always been slim and small for his height, which had made getting proper fitting shoes a slight chore. He actually wore women's runners half the time as the lasts changed and the makers catered for wider feet. US 8, 8 and a half, narrow, flashed through his mind... Closed his eyes and shook himself, trying to centre. Slowly he opened them and allowed the whole image to soak in. A tall, athletic, small busted woman. Fear struck again as he realised that the only spoiler was his shrunken penis, hanging limp and useless between his legs. He knew that would be... rectified, soon. Almost as the thought reached his nerves to fight the pain struck and dropped him to the floor. He dimly heard her laugh as the needle jabbed his thigh and floating he was once more dropped on a gurney and wheeled toward... He stirred to find small pads and wires stuck all over his body. The movement and soft groan had been noticed as a short time later she waltzed in. "Ah Petra my dear, nice to see you back with us. You will be pleased to know that I have rectified your little protuberance problem and all is as it should be. It has been 14 weeks since we last spoke. Those pads and wires have been keeping you toned as we fed you intravenously. Such a bother, but then nothing but the best as we strive to reach our goal together." She paused and smiling, stepped back to get a full view of her charge. Then tut-tutted softly. "Oh do forgive me my dear. You are not up to date are you? Your little, ah, problem... down there, is all better. Fully functional, as a few of our staff members will attest. Yes I know, you missed it. But there will be other times and one of... oh my.... such a large.... I actually had doubts, but all was well. We do know your limits now in one sense at least. I really am very good, you will be so pleased." She shook her head gently and smiled as she walked slowly around the bed. With great effort he kept his eyes straight up to the ceiling and refused to follow her movement. She stopped just behind the head and he could feel her lean forward and then blow across his chest causing a strange tingle and tightening to flow inwards as the slight sweat dried suddenly. "Oh yes, I almost forgot. While you where, ah, sleeping it off, I took the liberty of, well, fixing things up top. Just my artistic nature I'm afraid. Symmetry. Balance. Aesthetics is such an individual thing. But I pride myself in having a fair grasp of such. Yes... much improved. I know you will be thrilled. Not too big and yet more than a handful. Was there a children's story? Never mind. Wait till you see. Is that tears of joy? Gratitude? Not necessary Petra my dear. My reward will come in seeing you happy and fulfilled in your chosen role with us. Soon my dear... soon." "Now, let's get these little sticky pads off and wipe away the glue. I'm sure you want to see the new improved you." She walked back to where he could see her and gestured two nurses forward who proceeded to peel away the pads and wipe the areas with alcohol swabs and then with soft moistened cloths. He closed his eyes to avoid showing the mixed shame and fear as they gently wiped him all over. Taking, it seemed to him, just a little more time than necessary between his legs and on his chest. From the feel of things reality had shifted slightly. Knowing and accepting were two entirely different things. Could he stop thinking 'he' and acknowledge what his own body told him? Did he want to? In which direction did salvation or madness lie? Did he have a choice anymore? A picture of Bec mouthing 'my hero' popped into his head and he watched again as the car struck. The jolt of vicious anger flooded his system and his whole body tensed. Deliberately and slowly, 'she' exhaled and gained the centre. Opened her eyes and sat up slowly, with a cold smile on her face. "Oh yes, I know your skills Luciana. I am sure you have done yourself proud. May I see?" Only slightly surprised to discover his voice softer and higher. He caught a momentary flash of surprise on her face at his... no, her words. Adjust. Survive. And when you can... fight! Stepped, slid, off the bed and trembling slightly turned to face her, stark naked. The weakness served to mask the anger that flowed easily just beneath the surface. Luciana watched with a slight smirk. "Oh but of course my dear. Please follow me. There is a mirror next door you may recall. Don't worry about clothes, nothing we haven't seen before after all. Come." The smirk still evident she turned and without pause led the way out the door and around the corner. Each step confirmed difference. They seemingly passed dozens of people, though probably only 10 or so. 'She' forced a proud and almost arrogant walk and ignored everything around her. Then stopped and stared at the alien reflection. A jolt of sheer terror flooded her system with adrenaline and she clamped her eyes shut in an attempt at regaining her composure. After perhaps a minute she opened them and slowly took in her new form. Almost no trace of Pete, a tall, slightly muscular woman stared back. So... She stood for several minutes trying to assimilate the knowledge that the image in the mirror was... her. Fear roiled and then settled itself as a living presence in her stomach as the realisation that life as 'she' knew it was over. She clenched her will and thought... survive... Stand tall... win! A soft chuckle was the only warning as pain struck and she collapsed to the floor. But this time it was not short or followed by a numbing injection. Seeming to rise and fall, pain washed in, rose and crashed, to recede and then come again, again and again. A strange keening sound could be heard and was the only point of reference outside the small orange flooded point that was the universe. Time passed and at a lower flare the thought intruded, she was that orange point, that keening noise and then all colour, all sound, left. To be replaced by a drifting soft blackness. Nothing. Was this death? She woke to find herself back in her 'cell'. Bright, glaring light. Had someone painted the room gloss white in his... her, absence? Slight movement caused her to focus on the glare at the foot of the bed. A figure became visible and then clear. Tears formed and trickled down her face. Bec, exactly as she had been that evening stood smiling down at him... her, her... Oh God!! 'Hello Pete. You look tired... I miss you, come back soon. You owe me dinner.' No sooner had her presence registered than she was gone. A sob blocked his cry as 'she' reached toward..."Bec... please!" Half falling she stumbled off the bed toward where... nothing... just the room. Her cell. 5. It had been... days? Food was pieces of fruit left on a plate just inside the door every few hours. A soft plastic jug with one cup was always full on the floor at the end of the bed. Fresh, cool water. A constant as the world seemed to recede and drift. Was it days or...? The door clattered open. Luciana breezed in flanked by 4 men carrying 2 cardboard porta-robes. "Petra my dear. I certainly know that recovery can be an uncomfortable and embarrassing time, but it has been several weeks. You can't stay naked forever. Much as these fellows might enjoy that idea, it is bad for the women on staff. Lowers the bar. So. A gesture toward your acceptance as one of the team... a choice. One robe has some lovely frilly things, should you wish to explore the... ah, little miss. Or, on the other hand, some more grown up things. Skirts blouses and shoes... much more suitable I think. But, that is your choice. Whatever you feel comfortable with my dear." She laid two separate outfits on the bed. One was a white cotton dress with lacy frills at hem, sleeves and collar, white knee socks and gloss black, flat soled, round toed shoes with straps across the instep. The other was a white sleeveless blouse, dark satin skirt, lace top stockings and a pair of high-heeled shoes. No underwear. She waved to the men who removed the porta-robes to the corridor. "You need to join us in the cafeteria my dear. Time to meet your fellows. I will be back in half an hour. Do be dressed, appropriately. Oh, no mix and match. You need to choose a style of your own. One or the other, see you soon." And she was gone as 'she' gazed at the bed with a vague unease and a desire to wear clothing. To feel... normal, less exposed. She looked at the choice. A little miss muffett blancmange or slightly tarty grown up. With a shiver and a small sigh she reached for the sleeveless blouse. The rubber strip on the stay up stockings, felt... odd. The shoes, a little awkward. Careful steps caused a slight, but controllable wobble. At least it seemed like a fairly normal outfit. The high slit on the left thigh of the skirt caused some small 'discomfort'. Better than being paraded naked, which was doubtless the choice. That, or, pain until she acquiesced. Or, Alice in Wonderland frills. 'Chase the bunny with the big fob watch', a wavering giggle started and was abruptly cut off. Humiliation was a relative thing, sanity as well. Sighing she set to getting used to the shoes. Measuring and adjusting her steps, trying to keep the movement minimal and the slit less obvious. It took about 20 seconds to realise that short of ridiculously short mincing steps the slit would open as she moved. With another sigh she acknowledged the inevitable and kept practicing. The sense of accomplishment seemed somehow wrong and yet... Presumably half an hour later the door opened. Luciana clapped her hands and held them together in front of her lips. "Oh yes. I knew you were an adult. Please twirl for me, let me see you properly." She stood and watched as 'Petra' did a brief, slightly clumsy, twirl and then blushed, dropping her eyes. "Just lovely my dear. A little work on your grooming and you will be ready to start work." She reached and lifted the girls chin and gently patted the face. "Come, my dear. Your new workmates wish to get a look at the 'new girl'. Soon you will be one of the team. I am sure you can't wait to start your 'new career' can you. Let us go, you will make a good first impression. I have no doubts. Just a little while longer and you will be ready." Turned and led the way. The walk down the hallway was a mixture of pleasant anticipation and a vague, twisting unease. She was meeting her new workmates. Good... yet, something seemed... wrong. They stopped at the door. "Ready my dear. Don't worry. They are all looking forward to meeting you." Everyone was really nice... As she was introduced around to the 20 or so people they stood to greet her. The women kissed her cheek, or hugged lightly and smiled a greeting. The men took her hand and either kissed it or with a light squeeze held on as they stepped back and gave her a lingering look head to toe. Everyone smiled. Everyone was glad to meet her. She felt welcome. They sat and had coffee. She tried to match Luciana's posture and gestures. A few people wandered in and out. Any that hadn't met her as yet were called over to say hello. She was treated like a lady. She felt welcome. The walk back to her room was pleasant as she and Luciana chatted. Just two women, walking the corridor at work. If she measured her steps she didn't flash herself with every one. At the door she hesitated... "Yes my dear was there something? You did well by the way. Just a little work on your presentation and you will be ready." "Um...well, thank you for the clothes..." "My pleasure. I am so glad you chose to be an adult. Children can be a nuisance. There is a small wardrobe assembled in your room. A dozen changes in keeping with your look, which I fully approve by the way... Was there something else?" "Ah, I was just... underwear." She blushed and looked at the floor. A hand reached out and lifted her chin and she looked into Luciana's eyes where a small light danced. Her smile seemed too wide... "Oh do forgive me my dear. Yes of course, I will attend to it immediately. I know just the styles to suit. Quality, with just a touch of the risqu?. Must create the right impression. Oh, I almost forgot. You will find a small vanity with basic grooming materials... cosmetics and the like. Adele will be along later to start teaching you. Do apply yourself won't you my dear. The quicker you can present a professional image the quicker you can commence work. I must go. I have another new charge to see to. Be good, don't disappoint me." She waved and was gone as the door clicked shut. She stood and looked at the new additions to her room. But did not really see them. Why did she feel tense and afraid? Sat on the bed and tried to gather her thoughts... 6. Adele was a gentle and skilled teacher. After a dozen 3 hour sessions Petra was deemed ready to take up her new tasks. She was skilled with makeup and basic hair styling. A quick change of look was easily accomplished. A touch up here, a twist or pin there. Posture and deportment, most satisfactory. Staff Liason Officer. It was her job to see to the lowering of stress and generally keep morale high. Busy 'executives' needed to unwind and lay back. A dozen men and a few women would call on her for private consultation or public companionship, just to talk or whatever. She was to be at their disposal. Luciana as CEO of this division had sole discretion as to whom, when or for how long. At first she was puzzled. Luciana introduced 2 men. She had met them before she thought, but... had dressed carefully. Skirt, stockings, heels and a soft silk, cap sleeved, wrap blouse. Makeup and hair, just so. As the men stood watching her expectantly 4 others carried in and set up a queen size ensemble while another fitted a dimmer knob to the light switch in the hall that controlled her room. A trembling boyish- girl carried a bundle of linen and made up the bed and practically fled as soon as she was done. Luciana watched it all with a slight smile. Ten minutes later. "There, all set Petra. Time to earn your keep. You belong to these men for the next 4 hours. Do try to please, won't you my dear. I expect glowing reports of your dedication to the firm." She spun a small key-ring with a remote on it about her middle finger. Smiled widely at the slight fear in Petra's eyes, nodded to the two men and left closing the door. The first dropped his trousers and beckoned her forward without a word. She watched, both horrified and fascinated as he grew erect and stroked himself lightly. Almost against her will she walked to him, dropped to her knees and began to 'ease his stress'. The other began slowly undressing as he idly watched the vaguely erotic act taking place a few feet away. Fully undressed he moved across and sat on the bed, several minutes later, gesturing for her to join him. Perhaps forty minutes later he rolled to the side and the second man joined them. They began working their way through positions and techniques they had read or fantasized about. After they had left she lay naked, a distant, somewhat vacant expression on her face as she hummed what might have been a tune. Her eyes flicked to the figure that sat on the bed. It was the pretty blonde girl. She looked sad as she took in the figure on the bed and sniffed at the aroma surrounding her. The sad look became one of distaste as a tear ran down her face. Petra reached to... nothing. There was no one there. Days? Weeks? She was praised and greeted warmly by everyone she met. Luciana was pleased and that made her happy. She kept her room and particularly the bed clean and neat. Took care of her appearance, presentation was important. Each time she finished with a visitor the blonde girl would stand just inside the door looking sadly at Petra as she hummed quietly and turned a glassy eyed gaze her way. Petra couldn't bear that sad face, looked away. When her gaze flicked back... nothing, no one. Who was she? Why did she look so sad? He zipped up and patting her on the head left her kneeling on the floor licking her lips. She swayed slightly humming some nameless tune. A strange smile fixed in place that did not reach the glassy vacant eyes. Another figure stepped into her foreshortened view. Tall and slender. Black tight trousers above black pointed Cuban heeled boots. She stood slowly and slightly drunkenly. Smiled at this pale skinned woman with long black hair and bright red lips a slight frown crossing her face. Did she know this woman? "Well look at you. Such a perfect little slut. Do you remember me sweetness? We met briefly, oh, 8, 9 months ago. Sorry I haven't dropped in before now but I've been busy. This is the first chance I've had to sample that magic mouth of yours. Just rinse out for me please, I don't want any mans seed on me." She waved to the basin and proceeded to strip as she watched Petra gargle and wipe herself all over with a washcloth, quickly touch up her makeup and spritz lightly with perfume. She settled herself and watched as Petra slunk up the bed and kissing softly gradually reached her goal and set to her task. "Oh that was really nice, thank you sweetness. You really don't remember me?" As she finished dressing she beckoned Petra to her, they stood face to face. She searched for some recognition. But all she saw was a glassy blankness. An easy going, aim to please, mindless slut. Smirking she kissed the end of Petra's nose. "I drove the car that day. The look on your face was priceless. A pity your girl never knew what hit her." She looked closely and saw a flicker of emotion. The pretty girl stood on the footpath looking back at... her? Then numbness and the girl flew up and down as the car hit. A face turned and said... something. This face... this woman. Bec! Anger flared as memory flooded in. Saw the smile widen as the woman realised that 'Petra' knew. She looked at her hand and stared at the soft manicured fingers. Trembling she frowned, bent her fingers inward at the middle knuckle clenching it tight to form a blunt flat fist. A slightly puzzled expression flitted across the pale woman's face as she watched the hand movement. Her eyes and nostrils flared as she saw the anger blazing from Petra's eyes. With a scream of anger and pain the hand blade plunged straight out and slammed the pale throat just above the collarbone. She had seen the hand reach the button and felt the pain as she dropped but refused to close her eyes as the woman flipped backwards to the floor, thrashing and grasping at her crushed larynx. Rode the pain as she watched the thrashing weaken and then cease as the last few kicks of her heels on the floor signalled defeat. When finally the woman slumped and settled in death she crawled slowly to the bed and wrapped a sheet around her naked body as the pain washed and flowed and then she slipped into the warm blackness once more. 7. She did not hear the klaxons, as those that could, fled the group of black clad raiders, who pointed at the slightest hint of aggression. Stumpy fat barrelled weapons that spat with quiet viciousness. Several dropping as though hit with an axe, before the rest fell to their knees and locked hands behind heads to barked commands. Zip ties secured wrists and ankles as the black raiders rolled in a fluid overlapping motion through the building. Searching each room until after a long 8 minutes the 'clear' call came over the headsets from all teams. The leader, a large and imposing black man responding to a call came to a room where a woman had been found curled naked, wrapped loosely in a sheet. Unresponsive to voice or touch she lay on a crumpled bed with the body of another, this time fully clothed woman, lying on the floor nearby. He glanced at the trembling figure and called for a medic. Then turned his attention to the body. Self induced scratches and a deep crease in the throat showed the cause of death. Puzzled he stooped to her hand and found a small remote control. Finger locked on the button. He prized it loose and from the corner of his eye caught a slight slump in the figure on the bed. He pressed the button and noticed the figure stiffen again. Released and saw it slump. Sudden shock flooded through him as he swore and flung the device across the room. 'Who was she?' "Jesus... where's that fuckin' medic?" He turned as another of his men came in and stopped suddenly just inside the doorway staring at the woman on the bed, a ring binder clenched in one hand. He was about to shout a rebuke when the stunned and deathly pale expression opened with a whispered, "Oh Christ... it's... " The man turned to his boss. "That woman... is, uh... was... Oh, sweet Jesus That... is Pete Collins." He wordlessly waved the binder as all 5 men in the room turned shocked and disbelieving gazes on the naked figure only partly covered by a crumpled sheet. 8. They stared through the two-way mirror at the figure gazing vacantly into space and humming softly. Dr Franklin glanced sideways at the imposing black man. "Just who was this L.A. After reviewing the records you brought with her this is... well, brilliant applied medicine. The blending of drugs to obtain unorthodox results. After seeing these I can recognise the genius of it. I doubt many highly skilled doctors would even recognise the combinations and dosages as ultimately being responsible, even in this twisted manner. Not to mention the subtle hypnotic suggestions. If you hadn't found that CD I would not have even considered it. This person was brilliant but almost certainly insane." It seemed as though he would not get an answer until, in an almost whisper... "Luciana Alvi, nee Boucher, born May 1962 in Somerset England. Bright, intelligent, gifted. Studied at and obtained degrees, from Oxford, Edinburgh, The Sorbonne and Bologna. While completing there, she met Professor Joseph Alvi the famous plastic surgeon and interned under him. She became his right hand and in house counsellor. Excelling at the Psychiatric and practical cosmetic sides of the practice. They married in '94. In '98 he turned the practice over to her and entered politics. A rising star. Then in 2000 he was kidnapped. A pretty standard ransom, pay-off deal. But the local carabinieri chief was not happy with his cut and decided to play hero. The professor died in the 'rescue' attempt. Apparently, the surviving Dr Alvi received a visit a few days prior to the funeral, a local 'boss'. He apologised and explained the entire operation and how it should have gone. The good police chief vanished for 2 weeks shortly thereafter. He was found lying naked on the bonnet of his car, minus his genitals and tongue. He is quite well if you ignore the fact he was neutered and rendered mute. He has not, ah, spoken of it to anyone. Dr Alvi practices in five different countries and consults in dozens of hospitals and clinics. Private and otherwise. She is quite brilliant and very personable I believe. She is also a cold and calculating monster. A very clever one, we have virtually nothing. There are dozens... ah, never mind. What about..." He nodded at the glass and the figure beyond. Dr Franklin shook himself slightly. The brief story had brought memories of headlines and professional meetings. He had in fact met both the Professor and his lovely wife. She was charming and beautiful and now evidently... unethical didn't begin to cover it. Probably quite mad as well. He sighed deeply. "Ah yes, your former colleague. Well physically 'she' is fine. Mentally, well I suppose a disassociation from the current reality to protect the core, would be the simplest explanation. When the pain and horror of a given existence becomes too much the mind pulls back into a protective shell. 'She' needs a focal point of previous happiness to begin the road back. From what you tell me Ms Collins is a very capable individual. Mentally and physically tough. If someone or something can connect to the core personality... well given a bit of time the prognosis is quite good." He shrugged gently and sighed again. Bec almost broke down as she looked through the glass at what her lover and fianc? had become. The tall, attractive, but damaged woman was Peter. The shock had brought a gasp and near faint as Captain Williams, the big black man she had met before, stopped her from collapsing. She had been told days earlier what had happened and had thought she was prepared. But the physical reality was... took a deep breath and opened the door. Petra had a dreamy smile on her face as the door swung open. It was the pretty blonde girl. But she was dressed differently. That lovely dress she always wore was now jeans and a t-shirt. She still looked sad, was actually crying and her hands were shaking. The tears ran down her face as Bec looked into her lovers eyes. They were the same, if glassy and brittle looking. She searched for recognition and saw only a slightly puzzled frown. "Pe... um, Petra is it? I'm Rebecca, Bec, may I sit?" "Petra... no, I don't think I like Petra..... What happened to your dress? You always wear that lovely dress." She turned back to the glass to gain a toehold on reality and think. 'What dress?' The voice was a shock as was the up close presence of sexual female. How could this be Peter? And yet the eyes... "Bec? Yes... but you... " Her face tightened in thought as she tried to connect a stray idea to... "Oh... you brought a friend." Bec glanced quickly about the room. No one else was here and the door was still closed. Pete... 'she', was looking fixedly at a point at the end of the bed. 'She' began to speak and Becs heart broke as sorrow and fear washed over her. "Hello... Who are you? Have we met before somewhere, do I know you?" Petra thought the tall brunette looked familiar as she sat cross-legged on the bed smiling at her, brown eyes sparkling with humour. There was something... 'Yes. We've met before, a long time ago. I'm your sister... Joanna. Your twin sister... remember.' She sat staring at this woman, conscious of the pretty girl... Bec? Bec was looking at her. She seemed so sad. The brown haired woman leant forward and placed her hands on Petra's knees... no, not Petra, but... A shock of recognition washed her leaving her flushed and panting softly. Yes... her sister. It was her twin sister, but... "You're my sister... but... you died. You were stillborn, 2 minutes before me. They thought... I would be too." 'Yes. That's right. So... listen to your big sister. You were Peter, but he has gone and cannot come back. So... I give you... my name. We will live on as Joanna Louise Collins, or at least you will. You need to join them now. We will meet again. But for now, you must live... Joanna, be strong and live. Or big sister will be angry.' She smiled even wider and looked into her own eyes, her little sisters eyes and saw the glassiness start to fade. As it did... so did she. Bec looked on in terror at this one sided conversation, 'Joanna... sister... oh god... he... she was mad'. She started to sob and slumped onto the bed, looked up several minutes later expecting to see the same glassy eyed vacant stare, resigned to the loss. But was instead met with Pete's soft, warm brown gaze. A look of love she thought gone forever. Trembling, she reached and clasped the hand that reached to her. "Pete??" Those eyes crinkled at the corners, which brought a louder sob. But the hand clenched tighter, squeezed gently. "No Bec (tears trickled from each eye) not... Pete. Pete is gone and can't come back. But I had a twin sister who... She died in childbirth, a few minutes before I was born. Her name was Joanna Louise and she... is now me, or I am her. So, J-o-a-n-n-a. I hate Petra. She is a mindless bimbo. Nice enough, but stupid. Joanna will do... nicely. Jo even, if you like." She smiled at Bec and held her arms open wide. The core looked solid on the surface, but if Bec cringed or pulled back that core would crumple like a sand castle hit by a wave. With a half sob, half laugh Bec slumped forward into those arms. Both women were crying silently, tears running down their faces. Behind the glass Dr Franklin turned to wipe a tear from his eye and caught the reflection of Captain Williams unmoving form as tears ran unchecked down his otherwise emotionless dark brown face. 9. Bec was tense and Sabina could sense her unease. The sound registered on her ears long before Bec noticed and she was out the door and barking at the strange vehicle and the person that emerged. The other waved as Bec came into view and backed away leaving the woman and 3 suitcases on the path. The person walked closer and Sabina growled and braced. The figure stopped and seemed upset, unsure, water ran down its face. Then the growl stopped, Sabina cocked her head and whined softly, stepped stiff legged, closer, sensing. She circled the person and leant in closer. Seemingly puzzled by contradictory messages. Then with a sudden yip she jumped paws resting on hips and stretching began licking at any exposed skin. Joanna leant forward and had her makeup ruined in seconds as the soft warm tongue lapped and tasted. Dropped and spun happily, barking and jumped and licked again. Tail wagging almost frenetically. Joanna stood and looked at her home. Bec. Sabina. Emotion swirled and rose then crashed to the rocks below. A soft warm day, her dress crisp and light, matching sandals with a low heel, no hose. Careful makeup now ruined, at least her nails were perfect. Hair neatly styled and a light spray of Givenchy. 'Appearance was important', but...she felt good and yet. Fear had washed her as Sabina confronted the seeming stranger then a wave of relief and joy as she was recognised. Sabina danced and trotted in circles glancing between the two humans. Bec stood on the verandah and felt a blend of joy and fear, as Joanna looked her way. 'What did she do now?' She had been given an outline by Dr... Franklin, that's right. It was felt that little was to be gained by keeping 'her' 'locked up'. That recovery was more likely in familiar and comfortable surroundings. She had been warned that mood swings were likely and deep depression a possibility. Phone advice was available 24 hrs and intervention in a half hour if needed. Indeed, daily phone updates on her observations were desirable, no mandatory, to head off possible crises. Before they became emergencies. She needed to be vigilant, but just her presence and support was the main thing to bring Joanna toward normal. He had pointedly asked if she could be physically close to the new 'woman' after their past and now lost relationship. Could she be a lover to the person Joanna was now. If not they had to know. She had stared, indignant and swore that yes she could and would... but now. Doubts assailed her. Was she up to the task of confidant and friend or... lover? She had never thought of love or sex in partnership with a woman. But now... could she hug, kiss... make love with this... person. Did she know this woman? Would Joanna want to be with her or did she want men? How much of Pete remained after what she had been told had been done to him? It was almost a year... She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, opened them and limped down the stairs to hug the tall, nervous looking woman, standing in the driveway. Joanna stood and watched as the pretty girl... no, it was Bec. As Bec came toward her, looking nervous and she didn't look her best thanks to that dog ruining her makeup. Sabina, it was Sabina, the dogs name, her dog, her home... her...She, he, it, what, who... Bec... she closed her eyes and shook her head gently trying to clear her thoughts. Memories washed and floated like wispy clouds on a breezy day. Any shapes that became visible and solid shifted and changed as she tried to focus. She needed a mirror, must look a mess. Shivered and opened her eyes as Bec hugged her tight and she gently returned it, not quite sure what to do. "Welcome home... Joanna. We, um, Sabina and I did our best to keep everything ready for you. It's just as you left, well except for the bedroom, I've... been staying here. Um, I moved my things to the spare room. Thought you might... need some time to..." "Sshh. Yes. I do need to... I am, um, not myself..." She actually chuckled at that, shook her head as her mind wandered again. Bec... "Bec, thank you for being here. This, ah, can't be easy for you and I... I need a little bit of time to settle my thoughts and stop them wandering. Dr Franklin said it would take from a few days to several weeks. If you are uncomfortable around me at the moment, I understand..." Her thoughts started to drift as she mentally shook herself again and concentrated. Bec was looking at her sadly "Sorry, drifted again there. Bec I don't know... anything at the moment. Who or what I am even. I would love you to stay, but I understand if..." "Oh, Joanna. Can I call you Jo, please?" That brought a small crooked smile that was so Pete she almost cried. "Sure Bec, please do. It's, um, confusing isn't it?" "Confusing? No, not confusing...just, I see bits of Pete and I think how horrible and yet. You look great, just not... Not who you were and I wonder about... everything. What might have been and what might be. It is hard, but I can't begin to know what you..." Her voice trailed off as she sobbed once and bit her lip. Joanna reached out a hand, which hung there for several seconds as they looked at each other. Then slowly, tentatively, Bec reached out and grasped it firmly. They turned, headed up the steps and inside as Sabina trotted from the heels of one to the other and then dashed inside ahead of both. She sat, smoothed her dress and crossed her legs as Bec made coffee. They chatted like two old gal friends that had just discovered one was sleeping with the others boyfriend and neither was sure just how much to make of it. The conversation stopped as Joanna turned slightly as at a noise of some sort. Placed her cup and fluidly rose, walked out the door and returned with 2 cases. Placed them in the bedroom and repeated the trip this time with one. Took a pouch into the bathroom and emerged some minutes later, freshly and immaculately made up. Then sat and smiling resumed the conversation as though no interruption had occurred. Bec watched and tried to understand. It was like meeting a formerly wild girl friend that had been shipped off to finishing school and was now, at least superficially, the perfect lady. As the near truth of that struck home she began shivering and then sobbed aloud, "Oh God..." as tears ran down her face. Joanna started slightly at the soft exclamation. As she watched, Bec could see through her tears the brittle fixedness return to Jo's face as she sat unmoving and erect as though afraid to show a laxness of posture and then suddenly the whole fa?ade crumpled as sobs erupted and wracked the tall woman. But still she retained her erect posture. Sabina jerked upright and tried to sense what was wrong, crept close and nudged one and then the other. Getting no response she retreated about 10 feet and lay head on paws with her eyes flicking back and forth, her ears erect and alert as she tried to understand how she had failed, what was wrong. Each sat with their own thoughts and mentally wandered down whatever pathways their thoughts took. The distance of a few paces seemingly an ocean wide. Eventually they shifted and took turns quietly settling and straightening and then retreated to individual bedrooms as Sabina settled herself on the lounge to guard, alert to the slightest sound. The next few days were uncomfortable. Almost like a friend trying to be there for a recovering mastectomy patient. As one tried to deal with the mixed shame, fear and guilt as the reality of disfigurement settled and the other tried to behave 'normally', give support and thank God it wasn't her. Contradictions as personal demons whispered and fought little internal battles. The outcome of which always seemed uncertain. Tentatively they began to renew a friendship, each wondering if it could survive and if so was anything more desirable or even possible. 10. The routine had gradually established itself over several days, each taking turns at preparing meals or cleaning up. Joanna frequently took long walks with Sabina and began to relax, slowly sought a new balance both mentally and physically. Early morning runs followed by a repeated, gradually more fluid, jo kata and another similar, but two sided, defence and then attack sword kata with the hard pine bokken. Then a fluid freestyle full speed 'fight' and a gentle wind down followed by a period of meditation. She sat 40 paces from the back verandah just letting the universe flow over and through her. The large flat rock overhung the gully and afforded a view down to the creek below. Trees, birdsong and a misty blue light, filtered by the whispering eucalypts. Bec had her first attack of nerves and near panic as Jo had come in from one such session. Sweaty and intently focused she had gone round the house gathering the four concealed pistols and proceeded to strip, adjust and clean them. Finally, satisfied, she returned them to their hiding places. Bec remembered when Pete had shown her where they were and explained about spring tension in the magazine being the major cause of jamming. Had shown her how to clean and fire the Sig two twenty nine that the agency favoured. Laughed as he frowned at others fondness for the plastic Glock. She hadn't known what a glock was at the time. She hadn't given the guns a thought and knew she couldn't just move and hide them now. Jo would know and would guess why. She debated mentioning it in her check in call, but eventually said and did nothing. The sudden crack of a shot one morning caused a stab of fear. She had rushed to the backdoor not sure what she would see. To find Jo standing in a classic firing posture both hands cupping the pistol, left foot forward as she aimed and fired again at the large knot on the old eucalypt about 30 feet beyond the rock. She had watched as Jo had gradually loosened up and began to shift and pace before spinning and sending another round into the tree. The first dozen had been off and sometimes missed completely. Gradually she loosened up and the shots centred in. By the third ten round magazine each shot was within the blackened centre of the knot, roughly a 3 inch circle. It was 3 days later when a knock at the door found Bec face to face again with Justin Williams, the smooth black face emphasising the white of his smile. Jo and Sabina were out on a run as she sipped coffee in the kitchen. She smiled at his cheerful greeting and after a brief hug invited him in, glancing curiously at the bag he carried at his side. After the initial greetings and general how were things had passed he had begun to probe her thoughts on Jo's general outlook and recovery. Explaining that she had called him a few days ago with a request for some ammunition and 2 holsters. A standard hip and the shoulder harness modified to accommodate a woman's bust. He had grinned, slightly embarrassed, as he mentioned it was not a request he had ever expected to receive. They chatted peaceably once he had been more or less reassured about Jo's mental state and sat sipping coffee until Jo and Sabina had returned and joined them. It was almost funny. A bit like watching a child whose attention was drawn to the packages under the Christmas tree as Jo had tried to maintain a conversation but her eyes would drift to the bag and snap back guiltily. Eventually Justin had boomed a laugh and slapped the table, which caused Sabina to jump and bark, necessitating an apology. "Come on then, lets open your present Joanna and show me what you got." They had drifted outside. Bec and Sabina staying on the verandah as Justin, carrying the bag, and Jo with one of her Sigs headed down to the rock. The next few minutes was cause for much mutual embarrassment as Jo had slipped on the shoulder harness and then with Justin's help had adjusted the straps to obtain the correct positioning. Something neither of them had ever envisaged doing with each other. The nervous fumbling might have been comical in other circumstances. Justin had then stepped back and watched with a very critical eye as Jo drew and fired, gradually gaining in speed until it was a fluid easy motion with another round into the black knot hole. Smooth and accurate. He nodded to himself, turned and walked up to Bec, gave a quick kiss, bade farewell quietly and left with a silent wave. 11. Weeks drifted by as the mutual discomfort slowly dissipated and they got to know one another again. Jo slowly began to regain her natural fitness and with the exercise and physical integration her mental unease slowly lessened. There had been one dark afternoon when she had picked up her guitar for the first time in... ages. Had tried to finger some chords and stretch her fingers. Stopped almost immediately and stared at her slightly long and perfectly shaped and polished nails for several minutes. Stood and returned the guitar to its stand, slowly walked back to the verandah and sat staring into space for over an hour until Bec had coaxed her in to eat. That night the guitar had been put back in its case and placed in the corner by the wardrobe. After a couple of months they made a trip into town together. The first time Jo had done so. Of course the rumour had got around about 'him' having a sex change and the two of them living out there together. Bec had struck some animosity on her trips in. Some of the stories that confronted her were, amazingly imaginative, but for the most part people just shrugged and treated her much the same as ever. Would that change this time she wondered. With the exception of a few terse, 'your kind' remarks and a lot of not so subtle curiosity things went as normal. Jo had been very tense at first but gradually relaxed and answered a few 'polite' questions with the modified 'true' story they had agreed on. After all who would believe the truth. Better they think she had wanted this and was happy. The interaction with people that knew 'Pete' gave her a new appreciation regarding the reality of perceptions and a new respect for anyone that did this willingly. Something she had not thought much about in the past. Basic truths of personality and self were generally taken for granted. You had to respect anyone willing or perhaps having to shake that tree and see what fell out. And that train of thought brought the beginning of acceptance, not quite peace, but close. Maybe that would come. 12. A few days later they had been sitting side by side on the small lounge on the verandah, peacefully watching the day fade. Sabina was stretched out nearby occasionally glancing across to make sure she wasn't missing anything. After some time Joanna became aware of a slight tension in Bec and cocked her head to the side. "Are you ok Bec? You seem a little tense all of a sudden." The question seemed to poke a nerve as the smaller woman stiffened and then very deliberately relaxed. Jo kept her peace and waited for Bec to say whatever was on her mind. After perhaps 2 minutes she turned to Jo and with a rueful smile pulled out a small red box from the pocket of her light cotton jacket and held it out. Jo paled as she realized what it was. She hadn't thought of it in over a year. Presumed it to be lost along with what it represented. Bec cleared her throat and spoke nervously, explaining how Justin had handed it to her in hospital when they had first met after the 'accident'. It had been found lying on the footpath and handed to one of the officers that first arrived. She wordlessly placed it in Jo's open right hand and placed the left on it and both Bec's hands resting on top "I kept that as a talisman for months, waiting for your return so you could place it on my finger. Then, when I got word about... you being found and what had happened I put it away and tried to forget. The last couple of months I have tried to work out my feelings and what I want, plus what you might feel now. Maybe need, that I may not be able or willing to provide." She took a deep breath and clenched her hands on Jo's as her mouth went dry. "I have tossed this around and looked at it from every direction I can. But when I just let my thoughts go I come back to one thing. I ask myself, what is the most important thing in the world? And the answer is, to look into the eyes of the one you love and have them look back and say, 'I love you', and mean it. Once you're there everything else can be worked out. I love you Joanna Louise Collins. Please look at the engraving in there, I had it changed a little." Trembling slightly and with tears in her eyes making reading difficult, Jo opened the small box and lifting the ring read the inscription, 'Bec love forever Jo'. With shaking hands she placed it back in the box and tried to regain her suddenly lost emotional balance. Then another shock presented itself as Bec dropped to one knee and clasping Jo's hands with her left held a small blue box out to her with a whispered... "I love you Joanna, please marry me." Joanna was trembling as she took and opened the box to see a fine plaited triple gold ring with an inscription on the flattened inner surface, ' Jo love forever Bec'. With tears running down her face she realised she was holding her breath. She took a deep one to settle herself and looked into Bec's eyes to see