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When I'd first started this story, I'd intended it to be much shorter, probably about half the length it ended up as. But when I began writing, my muse insisted that I go at a slower pace. Mother's Milk By Morpheus I leaned back in my comfortable recliner, oblivious to nearly everything except for the book in my hands. I was completely engrossed in the tale of Allan Quatermain and his trek across the untamed wilds of Africa. Somehow the fact that I was reading an old hard covered book almost made it feel even more exciting, though I never truly understood that difference between hard covered books and paperbacks, only that it was so. As I turned the page, I absently adjusted my glasses, which had begun sliding down my nose. I took advantage of this brief pause in my reading to take a sip from the cup of hot cocoa that sat on the stand beside my chair. Hot cocoa, a comfortable chair, and a good book. The only thing missing was a nice warm fire. It was a pity that we didn't have a fireplace, and I had a feeling that my dad wasn't going to go through the cost of having one installed just for my enjoyment. "Maybe if I could come up with some kind of cost benefit analysis proving that wood fire heating was cheaper than gas," I mused with a faint chuckle. I returned my full attention to the book, but only made it through another page before I heard my dad calling my name. I paused, wondering if I should respond or just pretend that I hadn't heard him. After a glance back at my book, I decided to go with the latter. Then my dad stepped into the family room and said, "Oscar, didn't you hear me calling for you?" I winced slightly as he called me by my name, wondering why he and mom had saddled me with it, other than because it had also been my grandpa's name. Since our last name was Mayer, he should have realized how many hot dog jokes I'd have to deal with in school. I would have gone by my middle name instead, but that was even worse. Oscar Zoroaster Mayer, a name that nearly begged to be made fun of, which was why I usually just asked people to call me OZ. "Were you?" I asked my dad with a well-practiced look of innocence. "I didn't hear you." My dad gave me a skeptical look, but didn't bother to challenge me on my lie. My dad was a lawyer and was used to clients lying to him, so he didn't take it personally. I think he was more offended by a poor lie that was easily disproven than by actually being lied to. "I was just about to go see Mrs. Jonas," dad told me pleasantly. "I wondered if you wanted to come along." I hesitated a moment before responding, "Sure." I carefully put a bookmarker into my book and set it aside, looking forward to finishing it later. Then I slowly stood up and looked at my dad, realizing that I should have already guessed he was going to see a client. After all, he was currently wearing a gray suit like he usually did when going out for work. My dad and I were about the same height, with him being just one inch taller than my six foot status. Of course since I was sixteen, I might still have enough growth left in me to beat him out in a year or two. I half hoped that this was the case and half hoped that it wasn't. It might be nice being taller than my dad, but I was already pretty lanky and feared that if I got much taller I might end up being compared to a scarecrow. "So, how is Mrs. Jonas?" I asked my dad curiously. Mrs. Jonas was the only one of my dad's clients that I actually knew, and for some reason, she'd taken a liking to me. Because of that, my dad liked to bring me along when he went to go see her, saying that I put her in a good mood and made her easier to deal with. "She seems to be doing well," dad answered with a shrug. "You can ask her yourself when we get there." Just a short time later, dad and I were in his car making the drive to Mrs. Jonas' house. It took well over a half hour to get there, so dad and I talked while he drove. For the most part, I told him how school had been, while he nodded and pretended to be listening. Then he'd tell me about work, or at least what he could without violating the whole client confidentiality thing, and I'd nod along and pretend to be listening to him. Neither of us was fooled by this routine, but it was comfortable and made us both feel as though we were really spending quality time together. "And how is that book report coming?" dad asked me. "Just fine," I responded, deciding not to mention that the report had been due last week. It had hardly been a problem since our teacher had asked us to do the report on the Ray Bradbury story Fahrenheit 451...which I'd already read on my own last year. "I do have a science project coming up though." "That's good," dad replied pleasantly. I was pretty sure he hadn't really been paying attention until he added, "You might ask Mrs. Jonas for some ideas." I nodded at that, surprised not only that dad had been listening, but that I hadn't thought of this myself. Mrs. Jonas' late husband had been some sort of scientist before he died last year, and though she'd primarily been in charge of the business and money aspect of his work, she'd also been his lab assistant. That meant she would probably have some good ideas that went beyond the classic baking soda volcano. By the time we reached Mrs. Jonas' home and parked, I was feeling eager to talk to her and see what she thought. I climbed out of the car and looked at her house, though 'house' might be a bit of an understatement. She actually lived by herself in small mansion, which she used to share with her husband. With a grin I started for the front door, wondering how I could go about bringing up the subject. Mrs. Jonas answered the door herself, which was not surprising since she didn't believe in permanent live-in servants, just people who'd come by once a week to clean. She was a moderately attractive woman in her mid- forties, though she was a little too plain and frumpy to be considered a MILF. At the moment, her auburn hair that had a few streaks of gray was pulled back into a bun and she stood at the door staring at us through her glasses. "Gary," Mrs. Jonas greeted my dad politely. Then she smiled when she saw me and said, "I see you brought OZ." I smiled faintly at that, liking Mrs. Jonas partly because she actually called me OZ like I wanted. My own mom and dad always insisted on calling me Oscar, with mom actually seeming offended that I didn't appreciate being named after her dad. My grandpa Oscar might have been perfectly happy with his name, but his last name wasn't Mayer. "Mrs. Jonas," dad greeted her politely. Mrs. Jonas just smiled and responded, "I told you to call me Ellen. Now come on in and we can go over some of that paperwork..." While dad and Mrs. Jonas were going over their paperwork, I went to the library and looked around, just as I did every time I tagged along with dad. I carefully picked out one old book and smiled, remembering the first time I'd come here. About a year ago, dad was giving me a ride home from school, but something had come up and he'd had to come talk with Mrs. Jonas about her husband's will. I'd come along, and when I saw the library, I had nearly drooled in amazement. It wasn't as big as the public library or even the school library, but all the books were hardbound and somehow seemed more impressive. For a bookworm like me, this library was just a few steps away from Heaven. When Mrs. Jonas realized that I liked reading, she'd invited me to come back and even borrow some of the books. I spent over half an hour slowly looking over the selection on the shelves, trying to decide which one I might want to read next. I was curious about one book until I looked closer and saw that it was a first edition copy that had been signed by the author. I licked my lips at that and then carefully put it back. That was a book that I'd love to read, but I wasn't about to try taking that one out of this house...even if Mrs. Jonas would let me. I didn't want to be responsible for it if anything happened. I hadn't noticed Mrs. Jonas coming into the library until she asked, "So, how is King Solomon's Mines coming?" "It's pretty good," I told her honesty. "But a little slower than I'd expected. I'm about three quarters of the way through." "That's good," Mrs. Jonas responded, looking at some of the books on the shelf as she talked. "Have you thought about what you want to read next?" "A little," I admitted with a shrug. I adjusted my glasses and added, "I still haven't decided though." "How about the Sea Wolf?" Mrs. Jonas asked. "I think a boy your age might enjoy that one..." I shook my head at that, though I grinned as I remembered the story. "I read it a few months ago." Mrs. Jonas pulled one book off the shelf and asked, "How about something by Jane Austen...?" I shuddered at that. I might like classic books, but I'd never had any interest in reading Jane Austen. My tastes ran more towards adventure and I especially liked the works of Mark Twain, Jules Verne, and Edgar Rice Burroughs. "No thanks." Then Mrs. Jonas looked at the book in her hand and asked, "How about this one?" She held the book so I could see that it was an old copy of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz. "That's a good one," I told Mrs. Jonas with a grin, having a special fondness for that book due to my chosen name. "I've read that one twice. I'm not a big fan of the later books though." "My mother used to read this one to me when I was a little girl," she said with a sigh and then shook her head, seeming to be talking more to herself than me. "Sometimes I miss those days, back when I was a child with my whole future ahead of me, knowing that my mother would take care of everything..." I watched silently as Mrs. Jonas flipped through the book, looking at the illustrations and smiling faintly. "I used to wish I had my own daughter to read this to and share the experience, but sadly, Henry and I were unable to have children." I just nodded at that, feeling a little uncomfortable with her talking to me about such personal things. Then she gently closed the book and put it away, apparently breaking out of those thoughts. "I was wondering," I started, remembering what dad and I had talked about in the car and happily taking the opportunity to change the subject. "I have to come up with a science project for school and was hoping you might have an idea for something interesting." Mrs. Jonas paused with a thoughtful look before musing, "Well, I can't really think of anything off the top of my head. But Henry kept his lab in the basement, so maybe you can get some inspiration there." "Really?" I asked in surprise. "Thanks." Mrs. Jonas led me to a very sturdy door that was sealed shut with a combination lock, similar to the one on my gym locker at school. After she unlocked the door, she apologized, "I've only been down here a couple times since Henry passed away. I may have helped him with his work, but this was always his place." "I'll be careful," I told her, hearing the unspoken warning not to mess with anything. "Thank you, OZ," she said, turning on the lights and leading me down the stairs. The basement wasn't at all as I'd expected, either as a basement or as a laboratory. It wasn't cold and damp and it didn't even look all that sterile. Instead, it looked almost warm and inviting. One half of the basement had been set up as the lab, having wood floors that looked well taken care of as well as a few throw rugs. There were four wooden tables set up against the walls, looking like they had been regular household furniture that had been converted to this use rather than something you'd normally find in a lab. The tables were covered with various instruments and things that looked like they belonged in a lab such as microscopes and bottles full of various colored liquids, but a painting on the wall of dogs playing poker definitely did not. The other half of the basement had a very large and slightly worn out rug which covered most of the wooden floor. There was an old fashioned writing desk, a comfortable looking recliner, a fully loaded bookshelf, and even a lava lamp in the corner. After taking a look at the basement, I had the impression that this was a man cave that just happened to double as a lab. "Henry used to spend most of his time down here," Mrs. Jonas said with a light chuckle. "He sometimes had other researches come here to help him with a project, or at least that was what he told me. He always thought I didn't know they were really down here playing poker." Then she snorted and added, "As if I couldn't smell the scotch and cigar smoke on him afterwards." I couldn't resist grinning at that and thinking that her husband sounded like a bit of a character. Of course the poster of Albert Einstein with a clown nose would have given me a clue as well. "Not quite Frankenstein," I mused aloud as we walked over to the lab section. Mrs. Jonas chuckled at that. "Not quite," she admitted. Then more seriously, she said, "But Henry was extremely dedicated to his own interests." At my curious look, she explained, "He was a viral researcher...someone who developed vaccines and looked for cures." "That's cool," I said, wondering if I could somehow use something like that in my school project. "Somehow I don't think my teacher would appreciate me doing any science project involving viruses...especially if I had to bring some in to school." "Probably not," Mrs. Jonas agreed with a chuckle. "But Henry's real interest wasn't curing viruses. It was trying to make them useful." I blinked at that and asked, "Trying to make them useful? How can a cold be useful?" "Well," Mrs. Jonas told me thoughtfully. "Henry spent several years trying to create a virus that would attack cancer cells but leave healthy ones alone." "A cure for cancer?" I asked in surprise. Mrs. Jonas nodded and shook her head sadly. "Henry was close to succeeding, but the company he worked for shut his project down and confiscated all of his work. Since he'd done this as an employee, everything he did belonged to them. Unfortunately they decided that they made more money selling drugs to treat cancer than they would by curing it." "Ouch," I responded, not sure what else I could possibly say to that. The idea that there might have been a cure for cancer but some company stopped it was absolutely horrible. I could only imagine how bad it would have been for her husband to have that work taken away from him before he could even finish it. "Henry changed employers after that," Mrs. Jonas told me as she walked over to the lab section of the basement. "And afterwards, he kept those kinds of projects secret and only worked on them here at home. He spent nearly two decades trying to create a virus that would improve your health rather than harm it." "That would be kind of cool," I said, thinking about catching a cold but feeling better instead of worse. "Henry certainly thought so," Mrs. Jonas told me. "He thought he was close but he couldn't get it to work on any of the test animals. Their immune systems kept shutting it down before it could even take hold. Henry even tried experimenting with several variants, trying to target the virus to create only a single biological change but that didn't work either." She paused and shook her head sadly before gesturing to the sealed vials of liquid on one table and adding, "This was Henry's life work and he died before he could finish it." "I'm sorry," I told her sincerely. It did seem a real tragedy that her husband had spent so many years working on this but had never been able to see it completed. "Well, that's all history now," Mrs. Jonas told me, gesturing around the lab. "Feel free to look around but don't touch anything." She gestured to the glass containers on the one table and added, "Henry's virus samples never worked and should have died off a long time ago since he intentionally designed them not to last. But best not to mess with them anyway." "Okay," I told Mrs. Jonas before she turned and left the basement to return to my dad. Once Mrs. Jonas was gone, I adjusted my glasses and then began to slowly walk around the lab, looking at absolutely everything. I had no idea if anything in here would spark some inspiration for my science project, and I no longer really cared. It was interesting just to look at this stuff and know that it had once been used by a real research scientist. Some of the equipment looked high tech and very expensive, and I had absolutely no idea what most of it even did. There was one box that had me guessing for several seconds until I realized that it was just a microwave oven. When I was done looking over the lab area, I went to the other side of the basement, more out of curiosity than anything else. I sat down in the recliner for a minute and thought that it would be a great place to read a book. There was even a lamp right beside it which suggested that it was probably used for that very purpose. With that in mind, I went and looked at the book shelf, though I was disappointed to see that these were all technical books relating to biology and viruses. None of them were the kind of book that I really liked to read. Fortunately, there were plenty of those in the library upstairs. "Maybe I should borrow Frankenstein," I mused to myself, suddenly thinking that it would be an appropriate book to read about now. Then as I continued snooping, I opened a desk drawer and was both surprised and delighted at what I found. There was a small stack of dirty magazines, which only confirmed my earlier suspicions about this being Dr. Jonas' man cave. "Not bad," I mused, looking at the very busty model which decorated the cover of one magazine. I flipped through several of the magazines, grinning as I did so. Then I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should take these with me when I left. After all, it wasn't like Dr. Jonas would mind. Then again, that would also mean having to sneak them out past both Mrs. Jonas and my dad. With a sigh, I put the magazines back where I found them. "Back to my science project," I told myself firmly, going back to the lab and looking it over again. I still needed to find some idea of what kind of project I could do and I wouldn't get another opportunity like this. In spite of what Mrs. Jonas told me, I began to fiddle with a microscope and soon began to pick things up from the tables to look at more closely. I looked at a couple of empty beakers and even a strange machine that looked like it was designed to hold test tubes inside of it. Of course I had absolutely no idea of what it or half the other things in here were for. On one table, there was a large plastic jug that said 'sterile water'. I picked it up and removed the cap, sniffing at it cautiously at first. I didn't smell anything weird and guessed it really was water. "With what I've seen about this guy," I mused, glancing back to the other end of the basement. "I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been hiding vodka in here or something." I was about to put the jug back but it slipped from my hands and hit the floor, bursting open and leaving water all over. I muttered a few profanities and bent over to pick up the now half empty jug, only my foot slipped on the wet spot and shot out from underneath me. Out of pure instinct, I grabbed out to the nearest table to try catching my balance, but instead, I accidentally pulled the table over with me. Everything on that table crashed onto the ground beside me, including several glass bottles that were filled with liquid. They shattered, splattering the liquid everywhere, including on me. "Shit," I exclaimed in frustration. I scrambled to get back to my feet, but in the process, my hand caught one of the shards of glass on the floor and I cut myself. I grimaced, getting the rest of the way up and looking at my hand in worry. I was bleeding, though the cut didn't look too bad. It was only about an inch long and didn't appear to be very deep. For a moment, I stared at my hand and then at the knocked over table, realizing that this was the table that this was the table that Mrs. Jonas had pointed out as holding the virus samples. My eyes went to the shattered bottles on the floor and I gulped in realization. "I am in so much trouble," I exclaimed. Not only had I touched things after specifically being warned not to, I'd made a huge mess of it all as well. But of course, even worse than that was the fact that I'd just been splattered with bottles of what might have been some sort of virus. I immediately rushed back upsustairs where I found Mrs. Jonas and my dad talking. "I had an accident," I blurted out, holding my hand and cringing as they both looked at me. "I slipped and when I tried grabbing a table to stop from falling, it fell over on me..." "Oh dear," Mrs. Jonas exclaimed. "I think it was the one you warned me about too," I told her with a grimace. "The one with the virus samples..." I gestured to the wet spots on my clothes. "Are you okay?" dad asked. Then he looked at Mrs. Jonas and demanded, "What virus samples?" "Something Henry had been working on," Mrs. Jonas explained, giving me a slightly worried look though not as much as I would have expected. "The virus should be completely dead by now, and even if it wasn't, it wouldn't be anything to worry about. Not only was it harmless, but Henry had never been able to fully infect any of the test animals. Their immune systems fought it off before it could take hold." "What does that mean?" I asked nervously. "It means you should take a shower and get some clean clothes on," Mrs. Jonas told me. "You should be perfectly fine." I let out a sigh of relief at that. Just a few minutes later, I had a large band-aid on my hand and was in the shower, scrubbing at my skin and making sure that I didn't have any trace of that stuff left on me. When I was done, Mrs. Jonas had left some of her husband's clothes for me to wear. "Now she'll never let me look at that lab again," I muttered to myself as I got dressed. "I'll be lucky if she even trusts me in the library from now on." -------------------- "Make your move," I said, staring across the chess board to my best friend Austin. Austin just started down at his pieces, trying to decide which move he wanted to make. A few seconds later, he moved his knight and took out one of my pawns. Of course with his knight no longer where it had been, that opened a path for one of my bishops to take his rook. I was only a casual chess player, playing a game every month or two at most, but I was still better than Austin. My dad had taught me how to play a couple years ago, though he rarely had time to actually play with me now. That was why I'd begun teaching Austin. This way I'd at least have someone to play against. "I think I prefer Halo," Austin muttered after I beat him a short time later. He gave me a dirty look and added, "Or at least Monopoly." I just laughed at that. "Yeah, but telling people that you play chess makes you sound smarter." "True," Austin agreed with an easy grin. Austin thought of himself as a bit of a jock though he didn't actually play any school sports. He used to play on a soccer team that had made it to the state championships, though he left the team last year after he broke his leg and he hadn't gone back to playing since. "How about we go outside and kick a ball around?" Austin asked. Though he didn't play real soccer anymore, the two of us frequently played around with a soccer ball out in the back yard. "Sure," I responded with a shrug. "Just give me a minute..." I began putting the chess set away, glancing at Austin as I did so. He was a couple inches shorter than me, with the reddish color of hair that some people called ginger. A moment later, a voice called out from the door to the family room, "Hey OZ. Weasley." I glanced up at my sister Caitlyn, who was a year older than me. Her natural hair color was the same dark blonde as my own, and though Austin said she was really pretty, I didn't see it. As far as I was concerned, Caitlyn was just my sister. Then I looked past Caitlyn to her best friend Krystal, a very pretty looking brunet. She was friendly enough, but I wasn't really her type. She only liked girls. If it wasn't for the fact that Caitlyn was straight, I might have thought they had something going on. "You two are leaving?" Caitlyn asked me. "Yeah," I agreed. "The room is all yours." "Cool," Caitlyn exclaimed, immediately taking over the game table that Austin and I had just vacated. Krystal joined Caitlyn and they spread several containers of beads over the table. The two of them were into making their own jewelry and selling it online. "Hey Weasley, you want to help?" Caitlyn teased Austin as she always did. After I'd read the Harry Potter books, I'd once made a joke about how with Austin's red hair, he could have been a member of the Weasley family. Caitlyn had thought it was hilarious and had called him Weasley ever since. Caitlyn knew that Austin had a bit of a crush on her which was one of the reasons she enjoyed teasing him. As far as I knew, she had absolutely no interest in Austin, which was why she felt daring enough to mess with him. "Come on," I told Austin, pulling him out of the room. Once we were away, I asked him, "Don't you ever get tired of her calling you Weasley?" Austin just grinned. "I don't really care what she calls me...as long as she's talking to me." Then he his grin widened even more and he said, "Now come on Harry Potter. We have quidditch practice." "Don't call me that," I responded in mock offense. "I may have the glasses, but I don't have the scar." "Would you prefer I call you Hermione?" he asked with a snicker, earning a glare. Austin and I went out to the back yard and kicked a soccer ball back and forth while simultaneously talking about anything that came to mind, from girls we liked to problems at school. "So, how is your science project coming?" Austin asked me as he kicked me the ball. I scowled at that, not saying a word as I kicked the ball back. I was still a little sensitive about that subject after what had happened at Mrs. Jonas' house a few days ago. I'd made wreck of the lab and had been forced to leave, not only without an idea for my project, but also without a new book from the library. "Not good," I answered finally. "I had a great idea for something with viruses, but I can't really do any experiments with those." "Good point," Austin agreed. "I think you get an automatic F if you give smallpox to the whole class." We continued playing for a little longer but I was beginning to feel a little nauseous and tired. We called the game quits and went back inside, but I could feel myself getting worse. "Just great," I joked weakly. "After all that talk about giving everyone smallpox, I think I'm catching a cold." It was at that point that my mom came into the room and overheard. "Are you feeling sick?" She hurried over and put a hand on my forehead for a few seconds before pronouncing, "You feel like you have a fever..." "I'm fine," I lied, only to get a skeptical look from my mom. I watched my mom nervously, hoping that she wasn't about to get too 'motherly'. My mom was a real estate agent rather than a home maker, and it was a family joke that she let the dust bunnies run wild and could barely boil water. As a result, whenever she tried getting all 'motherly', the results were often mixed. In fact, the last time I was sick, she got distracted by a phone call from a client and ended up serving me chicken soup straight out of the can...without bothering to heat it. "Let me know if you do start feeling sick," mom said, glancing at her cell phone and then walking away while making a call. "My mom would have shoved me in bed at the first sneeze," Austin commented with a chuckle. "And chained me there." "Yeah, but my mom knows I'm smart enough to come inside out of the rain," I teased Austin. "Yours still thinks you need more potty training." "True," Austin replied with a grin. "Mine can be a little overprotective at times." Austin and I went back to the family room but saw that Caitlyn and Krystal were still working on their home made jewelry and talking about people they liked. I stayed just outside the door long enough to eavesdrop and hear Caitlyn mention a football player at school while Krystal admitted that she liked one of the cheerleaders. "She's got good taste," I mused, picturing the cheerleader Krystal had mentioned. Then I grinned and went to my room with Austin. Over the next hour, my flu symptoms quickly worsened and I soon found myself with stuffed sinuses and a nasty cough. I became sick to my stomach and even began to feel cold and uncomfortable. At that point, I finally gave up on pretending to be all right. Austin went home and I climbed into bed, dreading my mom's awkward attempts to make me feel better which were sure to come. -------------------- I was curled up in my favorite recliner with a blanket wrapped around me and a new book in hand. I took a sip of cocoa and glanced across the room at Caitlyn who was similarly curled up in the other recliner with her own book. Neither of us said a word as we read and we both pretended the other wasn't there. I slowly looked around the family room and my eyes settled on the book shelf that was nearly overflowing. Everyone in my family loved to read so I'd come by it naturally. Dad liked historical non-fiction and autobiographies, mom was into murder mysteries, and Caitlyn was usually into whatever was popular at the time, whether it was Harry Potter, Hunger Games, or Percy Jackson. She'd recently started reading the Twilight books so as a form of protest, I'd begun to read a real vampire book. I currently had Dracula open in front of me. For most of the last week, I'd been sick with the flu and stuck in bed. I was thankful that it was finally over, but unfortunately, that meant I was able to return to school. Today had been my first day going back in nearly a week, but of course, it hadn't improved any. I was just glad when the school day was over and I was able to get back to doing what I wanted to do instead. As I sat there staring at the book in my hands without actually reading it, I thought about the coincidence of getting sick just a few days after being exposed to the virus in Mrs. Jonas' basement. Of course I wasn't stupid and had thought about that more than a few times over the last week. I still didn't know if I might actually have caught something there or if the timing was just coincidence. Mrs. Jonas had seemed pretty confident that the virus samples were completely harmless and that they couldn't have done anything to me. According to her, these viruses have some sort of self-destruct and should have stopped working by now. She'd also said that even when the virus was fresh, it had been a failure that hadn't it been able to take hold in any of the test animals. And of course she'd said that the virus was supposed to make people healthier rather than sick. Mrs. Jonas had said a lot about how the virus 'should' behave, but I couldn't help remembering something that my dad liked to say. 'Should' and 'is' are two different things and they don't usually intersect. "But I am better now," I reminded myself, afraid that I was worrying over nothing. After all, I'd recovered from the flu and felt perfectly fine. Even if I had caught something from that lab, it looks like my immune system had fought it off. With that, I turned my attention back to my book, musing aloud, "Wow, what do you know... Real vampires don't sparkle." "Bite me," Caitlyn responded from her side of the room, not even bothering to look at me. "On second thought, I'd rather Edward bit me..." Caitlyn and I sat there for another half hour, reading our books and occasionally making a snipe at each other's book choices. Eventually though, I was forced to put down my book and turn my attention to something that I'd been dreading...the stack of homework that had built up over the last week. I had a lot of catching up to do in class and that meant a lot of work to do tonight. I worked on my homework until it was time for bed. I was disappointed because I still hadn't caught up and would probably be working on it tomorrow night too. After I got undressed and ready to climb into bed, I absently scratched at my chest which felt just a little itchy. To my surprise, my chest felt strangely soft and sort of puffy. "Must be an allergic reaction or something," I mused. Then I shrugged, deciding that it might just be my imagination. I didn't think any more about it as I turned off the light and then curled up to go to sleep. When I woke in the morning, I absently scratched at my chest again, only to find that it was still soft and puffy. I sat up in bed, remembering my thoughts from the night before and feeling a moment of worry. "What the...?" I started, poking at my chest and noticing that it was visibly puffy on both sides. In fact, even my nipples looked a little odd. They seemed a little larger. This was a little freaky, but I didn't have time to worry about this right now. I still had to get ready for school. So with a grumble, I quickly got ready and then ran down to the kitchen to grab some breakfast before taking off. As strange as this was, getting to school on time was more important. I got to school on time and met up with Austin as I did every morning. I didn't mention my swollen chest, thinking that it might be a little embarrassing, though it didn't leave my thoughts for long either. Throughout the day, I kept scratching at my chest, but instead of getting better, it only seemed to feel more swollen. By the time I got home that afternoon, it was so noticeable that I that I could sort of see the swollen bumps through my shirt. I stepped through the door of the house and stared down at myself, poking at my chest through my shirt. Not only was my chest all swollen but now my nipples were feeling tended as well. "What's wrong with me?" I demanded, feeling afraid and confused. I'd been holding off on these feelings while at school, but now that I was home it all threatened to burst out in a surge of panic. I found my mom in the living room, sitting back on the couch while writing something on her laptop. I was relieved to see her here since I never knew if she'd be here when I got home from school or not. "There's something wrong with me," I blurted out. "What?" mom responded, not even glancing up from her laptop at first. When she did, it was to give me a look of faint annoyance at interrupting her and to ask, "Are you feeling sick again?" "It's not the flu," I told her, then paused to grimace. "At least I don't think it is..." I took a deep breath and said, "I've got some kind of allergic reaction or something. I'm getting swollen..." "You don't look swollen," mom responded, standing up and coming over to give me a quick look over. She was staring at my face rather than where my symptoms were showing. "No," I nearly snapped, tearing off my shirt so she could get a good look at my chest. "Here." Mom stared at my chest with her eyes going wide. "You've...you've got breasts," she exclaimed in shock. "Breasts?" I asked, staring down at myself and then gasping when I realized she was right. My chest had swollen out on both sides so that it almost looked like I had a pair of small breasts, just like a girl. My nipples had gotten bigger and were sticking out which only added to that impression. "No way..." While I was trying to absorb the fact that I seemed to have breasts, mom reached for them and gave them each a gentle squeeze. She had a difficult to read expression as she felt me up, even toughing my nipples. That touch made me gasp a little at the sensitivity. "They're breasts," mom said in a carefully controlled voice, though I could still hear the shaking in it. "How in the world is this even possible?" "Oh no," I whispered in realization. "Those viruses..." "What viruses?" mom demanded, reminding me that I'd never told her about my accident in Mrs. Jonas' basement. From her expression, it seemed that dad hadn't told her either. I let out a sigh and felt as though I was deflating. I cringed in embarrassment and then reluctantly told my mom about the incident at Mrs. Jonas' house. When I was done, my mom looked angry, though someone who didn't know her might not realize it. "And you didn't think to tell me about this when you got sick?" There was a deceptively calm tone of her voice and a similarly misleading expression. "Your father and I are going to be having words when he gets home..." I had a feeling that my mom had a lot more to say, but right then the door opened and Caitlyn came into the room with Krystal right behind her. Both girls stopped and stared at me since I was standing there without a shirt on. "Um...why does your brother have tits?" Krystal asked, staring at me with a slightly confused expression. I instantly turned bright red, grabbed my shirt, and rushed out of the living room as fast as I could. When I got to the safety of my bedroom, I locked the door behind me and let out a sigh of relief. "I've got breasts," I said, still not believing it. I felt them in my hands, thinking that they definitely looked like small breasts. "Oh God, please let this swelling go down soon..." Then I suddenly thought about how Austin or any of the guys at school would react if they saw me like this. I shuddered at that thought, realizing that I'd never live this down. A short time later, there was a knock on my door. I hesitated a moment, trying to decide to answer it when Caitlyn's voice called out, "Come on out OZ. I wanna see your breasts..." "Forget it," I snapped angrily. I'd been worried about what Austin and my other friends would say. I'd forgotten the fact that my sister could be even worse. "You can borrow one of my old bras if you need to," Caitlyn teased, obviously having fun with the whole situation. Once I thought Caitlyn was gone, I left my room, though I had put my shirt back on. I was relieved that she hadn't been standing out in the hall, waiting in ambush. However a moment later I saw Krystal further down the hall. She saw me and cautiously came towards me. She stood back and stared at me, her eyes locked on my chest as she tried making out my lumps through the shirt. "Wow," Krystal said a little awkwardly. "Your mom told us that you caught some sort of weird virus..." "Yeah," I responded self-consciously. "At least, I think that's what did this..." "Well, I hope you get better soon," she told me with a wry smile. "I can imagine this can't be very easy for a guy." "Yeah," I admitted. "It's pretty embarrassing." Krystal just gave me a wry smile and added, "I'll try getting Caitlyn to lay off a little," before she turned and walked away. I watched Krystal walk down the hall and then shook my head, knowing that I shouldn't get any ideas just because she was talking with me. Still, she was very pretty and I didn't get the pretty girls talking to me like that very often. My stomach suddenly growled, reminding me that I was hungry. I was a little hungrier than I usually was when I first got home from school, and unfortunately, I still had to wait an hour or two for dinner. Whenever dad got home, we'd either go out somewhere, get delivery, or mom would throw something in the microwave. If we were really lucky, dad would actually feel like cooking. He was a pretty good cook and Caitlyn wasn't bad either...when she could be talked into doing so. In spite of being hungry, I was hesitant to go to the kitchen to get a snack. I didn't want to deal with Caitlyn at the moment, especially when I knew that she would tease me mercilessly about my chest being so swollen it looked like I had breasts. After hesitating a moment, I decided to go take a shower instead. No...a bath. A shower was for getting clean, but a bath was for letting the muscles soak and relax. At the moment, that was what I really needed, other than food that is. I went to the bathroom and undressed and then looked myself over in the mirror. I scowled at the sight, seeing that it really did look like I had breasts. They weren't really all that big, but they looked like they definitely belonged on a girl. I shuddered at the sight, tearing my attention away from the mirror. "Please go away," I muttered to myself. "I mean, it's really just swelling and swelling goes down." A minute later, I climbed into the bath tub and stretched out, thankful that we had such a large tub. I normally wasn't big on baths because a shower was a lot quicker, but there were times when it was nice to just sit back and soak away your sore muscles. Some of the guys at school said that baths were only for kids and girls, but I thought that was only true for bubble baths. As long as I didn't pour any of Caitlyn's bubble bath into the water, I could feel secure in my masculinity. I took my time with my bath, spending most of it with my eyes closed and just absorbing the warmth. I tried not to think about my embarrassing situation, and when I washed myself and had no choice, I did so as quickly as I could. When I was done, I drained the water and dried myself off with a towel, still feeling worried but not quite as much. "Much better," I said, feeling much more relaxed. When I finished drying myself off, I glanced to the tub and was startled to see a lot of small hairs all over the bottom of it. I blinked at that, feeling a little confused. Then I looked at the towel in my hand, noticing that there were small hairs all over that as well. It took me a few more seconds to realize where all this hair had come from. I'd never been particularly hairy, but now all the hair on my arms and legs was gone. In fact, a quick look revealed that all of my hair except what was on my head had vanished...had fallen out. "Oh no," I whispered, running a hand down my smooth and hairless arm. Whatever was happening to my body, it obviously wasn't limited to my chest getting swollen. Suddenly all the worry came back much stronger and I muttered, "I have a VERY bad feeling about this..." ------------------- The living room in Mrs. Jonas' house was very nice and done up in Victorian era style, though I knew that the furniture was all replicas rather than real antiques. I'd seen this room a few times before and knew that she often used it when trying to impress visitors. There was another living room in the house that was done up in a much more modern style, and which I thought of as being much more comfortable. I sat in a chair, feeling awkward and self-conscious as Mrs. Jonas stared at me. My mom and dad were both present as well though neither of them was happy in the least. Of course none of them could be as unhappy about this situation as I was. Dad had been a bit shocked when he came home last night and found that I had grown breasts, but he thought we should see if the swelling would go down on its own. However that hadn't been the case at all. Instead my symptoms had only grown more noticeable. I now possessed what appeared to be a pair of perfectly shaped C cup breasts, ones which were far too noticeable for my tastes. Caitlyn was jealous that I was actually bigger than she was and my mom had forced me to wear one of her bras for 'modesty'. That only made this whole situation even more humiliating than it already was. Of course my new breasts weren't the only symptoms of what was wrong with me. My body hair had all fallen out as well, including the peach fuzz on my lip that I had to shave off every few days. My skin was all soft and smooth now with even my scars all having faded away. I only had one scar left, a long and deep one on my leg from a childhood accident. That one had been fading away as well and was now barely visible anymore. By the time I went to bed tonight, it would probably be completely gone as well. I sighed and turned my attention to Mrs. Jonas, who was still a bit shocked. "I don't know what to say," she said, giving me a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry OZ... I had no idea that anything like this could possibly happen. Henry was certain he was close but he'd thought those viruses were a failure." "Where are the virus samples?" dad asked, his voice calm and controlled, but I could tell he was worried and angry. "Maybe someone can use those to find a cure..." "After the accident," Mrs. Jonas said, giving me a quick look, "I cleaned the lab and washed everything down with bleach. Everything that was left was sterilized and destroyed." I saw the grim look on dad's face and suddenly wondered if he was planning to sue Mrs. Jonas. I also wondered how that would work since he was her lawyer. "Henry's work wasn't meant to do this," Mrs. Jonas said, giving me another concerned look. "His virus was meant to destroy cancer cells and other viruses...to encourage the body to repair itself more efficiently. It was meant to make you healthier and reduce...or even stop the effects of aging." She gave a self-conscious smile at that. "Stop aging?" mom gasped, suddenly going from angry to amazed. "Henry was nearly twenty years older than me," Mrs. Jonas admitted. "He was becoming concerned with his age and saw his work as a way help with that." Then she shook her head sadly. "Henry died of severe pneumonia, but I've always wondered if maybe he'd accidentally caught something he was working with. Or even..." She looked away and quietly added, "Or maybe he was testing it on himself." "But what about THIS?" mom demanded, pointing right at my chest. "This doesn't look anything like becoming healthier...at least not for a boy." "I don't know," Mrs. Jonas admitted. "I don't know how any of this could be happening but..." Then she paused with a thoughtful look on her face. "But what?" dad asked with a scowl. "Henry's main work was a virus that would improve your health," Mrs. Jonas explained. "But he was working on other experiments too. He was also working on modified versions of his virus to see if he could actually change a few things about the body instead of just keeping it from deteriorating. One of the things he was working on was a version that would stimulate breast growth and lactation." She gave a faint smile and continued, "He said it was to help produce healthier milk for babies." "I'll bet," I muttered sarcastically, thinking about the stack of dirty magazines I'd found in the basement. All the magazines had been for very busty models with one of them even being for lactating women. I looked straight at Mrs. Jonas and quietly added, "I don't think that one was meant for moms..." "OZ may have been accidentally infected with that one," Mrs. Jonas said, completely unaware of what I'd been saying to myself. "Or possibly even several versions of the virus. All of Henry's samples had been on the table that spilled and there's no telling how many may have still been viable." She shook her head and admitted, "I just don't know." I felt a cold dread in my stomach as I considered that I might not have been infected with just one experimental virus but several different ones. I just hoped that her husband hadn't been doing any Doctor Moreau type experiments too because I did NOT want to turn into some kind of animal. Just growing breasts was already far more than enough. "I just don't understand," Mrs. Jonas repeated again, shaking her head with a confused look. "Henry hadn't been able to get these to work on any of his subjects. These viruses just weren't strong enough to get past the immune systems..." "I...I think I know," I said, earning surprised looks from all the adults, though the looks were also skeptical. I suddenly felt even more self- conscious than before. I adjusted my glasses and then carefully said, "My cold..." "What about it?" mom asked me, obviously wondering what my point was or if I even had one. I took a deep breath and asked, "What if it really was just the flu?" "I think we're past that being a normal cold," dad pointed out in a tone of voice that suggested he thought I was being silly. "No," I snapped in annoyance. "I mean, if I had the flu, wouldn't it have stressed my immune system trying to take care of that? That might have left it weak enough for this stuff to take hold..." "That does make sense," Mrs. Jonas responded. "If he was already sick, then maybe the virus took advantage of that. And once it established itself, it may have become too strong for his immune system to remove." Then she paused to admit, "Of course I may be familiar with some of Henry's work but I'm not expert enough to know for certain. There is one thing I can do though and that's test for the virus..." Two minutes later, Mrs. Jonas led us all down to the basement lab, though my mom and dad were both very nervous about going down there after my accident. When we reached the bottom, I was immediately struck by the strong smell of bleach and cleaners. Mrs. Jonas had said she'd cleaned and sterilized down here and the strong smell certainly seemed to confirm it. I looked around the basement and saw that the mess I'd left behind had been cleaned up. All the shattered glass and liquid on the floor was gone with no sign of it having been there while the table and put back up where I'd first seen it. There were no longer any bottles of liquid on that table or any of the others. "I'm not a virologist," Mrs. Jonas said as she went and pulled some equipment from a drawer, "but I did assist Henry enough over to the years to have picked a few things up." Mrs. Jonas revealed a syringe which she then used to take a sample of blood from my arm. She put a drop on a slide and then put it under a microscope and put a little more into a small machine. She looked at the microscope and some kind of display on the machine, going back and forth several times. "I have no way of knowing which strains that you're infected with," Mrs. Jonas finally told me, giving me a steady look before adding, "other than the obvious. But you definitely have a high count of Henry's virus in your system." She looked back at the lab and equipment and sighed. "Henry wasn't able to fully infect a lab rat no matter how hard he tried...and now you get infected purely by accident. The irony..." "But how do we cure Oscar?" dad demanded, giving Mrs. Jonas a steady look. "Will his immune system fight it off normally?" "I don't know," Mrs. Jonas admitted quietly. "We'll take him to a doctor," mom announced firmly, as though it was fully decided. "A specialist." "Henry was THE specialist," Mrs. Jonas responded with a bitter chuckle. "He always said that no one else came close to what he was doing. And unfortunately, Henry's notes wouldn't do much good for anyone else. He became paranoid after his previous work had been stolen, so he always wrote his notes in his own personal code and never put everything down on paper. He always kept some key details in his own head and nowhere else." We were all silent as we absorbed this information and I realized that no normal doctor would be able to do much good. Scientists had been studying AIDS for a long time and still hadn't found a cure for that. How long would it take to find a cure for some virus that they'd never even heard of before? "There is one person who might be able to help," Mrs. Jonas finally said with a thoughtful expression. "One of Henry's friends. The two of them used to talk about Henry's work so he might be the only person able to make real sense of the virus. He retired a few years ago, but I think he'll be willing to help." We were all relieved to hear that, especially me. Mrs. Jonas told us that she'd try reaching this scientist and getting him to come over as soon as possible, but of course, she couldn't promise that he'd agree or even that he'd be able to do anything. When we returned home a short time later, Caitlyn met us at the door and gave me a look of concern. She'd teased me about my condition yesterday, but once she realized how serious this was her attitude had changed. "Any good news?" Caitlyn asked. "We confirmed that I've got that weird virus inside me," I told her wryly. "And Mrs. Jonas knows someone who might be able to help." "Are you going to be okay?" Caitlyn asked me cautiously. I hesitated a moment before answering honestly. "I have no idea." My voice shook as I said it. Caitlyn gave me a concerned look and then weakly joked, "At least now you can't tease me about having to wear a bra." "At least something good came out of this," I responded with a roll of my eyes. I left Caitlyn with mom and dad while they filled her in on what we'd learned...and what we hadn't. I went to the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror, still stunned by the twin mounds on my chest. I shook my head, looking over the rest of my reflection as well and not being happy about it in the least. Thanks to my breasts and my softer smoother skin, it made me look just a little girly. I scowled at that, staring at my face and having the feeling that something else was wrong as well. It took me several seconds to realize what it was. My hair. I normally kept my hair fairly short and well-trimmed, and I'd even had it cut only two weeks ago. But now, it was looking just as shaggy as before my cut if not even more so. "So I lose the rest of my hair but this grows faster," I mutter. At least this side effect of the virus wasn't a bad one. All it meant was that I'd need to get a haircut a little sooner. After this I went back to my bedroom and sat down on my bed, thinking about what was happening to my body some more. However I didn't want to think about this anymore. It was just too freaky and frightening. So I did what I always did when I wanted to distract myself from something. I picked up a book and began to read, throwing myself into that world instead. It said something that I found the world of a blood sucking monster to be more soothing than my own at the moment. I hadn't been reading for very long when there was a hesitant knock on my bedroom door. Seconds later, my mom's voice came through the door. "Oscar? Austin is here but I didn't know if you wanted to see him right now..." I hesitated for a moment, my first impulse being to turn Austin away. I glanced down at my breasts and gulped, feeling incredibly embarrassed and not wanting anyone to see me like this...especially not my friends. But on the other hand, Caitlyn's best friend had already seen me like this and could I trust my own any less? "Send him in," I told my mom through the door. Austin came into my room half a minute later, asking, "What's up with your mom? She's acting kind of weird." "It's not my mom that has something wrong with her," I responded with a sigh and then a wry smile. "At least not any more than usual." Austin stopped at the door and stared at my chest for a moment before he burst out laughing. "What are you doing...trying out a Halloween costume? Because if you've decided to start wearing a padded bra just because...I might get a little worried." I grimaced at that, turning bright red. At the moment, I just wanted to hide, maybe dive under the covers of my bed and demand that Austin leave. I knew that it would be embarrassing to show Austin but I wasn't about to back out now. Instead I removed my shirt and gave him a good look. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped open. "It's no padded bra," I told him with a sigh. "What..." Austin started, coming closer and then poking one of my breasts with a finger to prove to himself that it was real. "What the fuck?" "It's a weird disease," I told Austin. Then I grinned evilly and added, "And highly contagious." Austin instantly jumped back and stared at the hand he'd touched me with in fear. I just burst out laughing at that while he looked confused. "Don't worry," I assured him. "I don't think it's contagious or everyone in my family would have it too." Then I shook my head in disgust and put my shirt back on again. "It was kind of a freak accident that I got it..." "What the hell kind of disease gives you boobs?" Austin demanded, absently wiping his hand on his pants and not looking all that comforted. "You have to promise not to tell anyone," I insisted, knowing that I'd die of embarrassment if anyone at school found out. Once Austin agreed, I started, "You remember when I told you about that accident at Mrs. Jonas'..." -------------------- When I woke up in the morning, I was immediately aware of the weight on my chest. Of course I'd been aware of my breasts for most of the night as they made it uncomfortable and difficult to sleep. Nearly every time I rolled over onto my stomach, I was awakened from the unfamiliar pressure. "It wasn't a dream," I said as I sat up in bed and cupped my breasts. Of course I hadn't really thought it was for even a moment, but I had hoped. By the time I'd gone to bed last night, my breasts had grown to about a D cup, and now it appeared that they'd grown even more overnight. These things felt enormous and seemed to stick out of my chest way too far. I was mortified to realize that I was bigger than my mom, and she was fairly generous. Then I turned my attention from the size of my breasts to my nipples. They had grown a bit more and had also become very sensitive. I gently squeezed one and then gasped at the sensation. "Is it like this for girls?" I asked quietly. I hesitated a few seconds and then began to play with my nipples. It was almost as though they had a direct line to my groin because little OZ immediately began to respond. "No," I muttered, tearing my hands away. I couldn't do that. It was just too twisted. I let out a sigh and then reached for my glasses which were sitting on my night stand. But as I was about to put them on, it dawned on me that the faint blurriness I usually saw in my vision wasn't there. I slowly looked around my room, seeing everything in crystal clarity. From this distance, I was normally unable to make out the writing on a poster on the far wall, but now I could read it perfectly fine. "My eyes," I whispered. A moment later, I put my glasses back on the nightstand and scrambled out of bed. I grabbed the book I was in the middle of reading and read through a couple sentences, delighted at the fact that I didn't even need to squint to make the words out. "It fixed my eyes," I exclaimed in awe, thankful that at least something good had come out of this whole mess. Of course I'd happily return to needing glasses if it meant getting rid of these mounds and going back to normal. After a few minutes I got dressed, putting on a large sweater to cover up my breasts and then going to the bathroom to relieve myself. I finished my business as quickly as I could and then stared at my reflection in the mirror above the sink while I washed my hands. The thing I noticed first was that my hair was longer, having grown around four inches since yesterday. It was getting long enough that it was even starting to fall into my eyes, much to my annoyance. However I could tell that something else had changed too, though I couldn't quite determine what that was. After staring at myself for several minutes, I decided that my face somehow looked softer...more feminine. That might have been due to my losing every trace of my facial hair, but I suspected that it was something more than that. I grimaced and decided that I needed a better look. After taking a deep breath, I removed the clothes I'd only put on a few minutes ago and dropped them to the floor. I had already looked myself over in my room, but now I did so in front of the mirror, carefully looking for any further changes that I might have missed. My first impression was that I was staring at a naked girl in the mirror, an impression which was supported by my breasts and smooth hairless body. Of course the junk between my legs told a different story. But as I looked myself over, trying to ignore my smooth skin and breasts, as difficult as that was, I realized that there were other things that looked feminine as well. It took a minute of just staring at my reflection before it dawned on me. My entire body shape somehow seemed more feminine. My waist seemed just a little thinner and my hips wider. If I didn't know they were attached to me, I would have thought my legs belonged to a woman. "Oh shit," I blurted, suddenly realizing what this all meant. I hadn't just grown breasts. I was actually turning into a girl. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see the signs over my entire body. Most of the changes were more subtle than my breasts, but they were still noticeable. I turned away from the mirror, feeling a cold knot of dread in my stomach...at least emotionally. Physically, I felt perfectly fine. Better than fine. In spite of these weird changes in my body and the occasional itching, I actually felt surprisingly good. With all this going on, I would have expected more of the flu symptoms at the very least. "Maybe that stuff is keeping me healthy like it was supposed to," I thought aloud. Then I snorted. "Along with all this other stuff." I turned away from the mirror and put my clothes back on, not wanting to think about how I was changing but not having any choice. Still, in spite of the horror of turning into a girl, I did have other things I needed to take care of. I left the bathroom and went to the kitchen, feeling pretty hungry and eager for something to fill my stomach. Ever since I'd started changing, I'd been getting hungry more often and eating more than normal. Dad thought that it was because my body needed extra energy to fight off the virus. I thought that the energy was probably being used to fuel my changes. "Do you want something to eat?" mom asked unnecessarily when she saw me. She was dressed up in a nice outfit, which suggested that she was planning on meeting clients or showing houses today. I might be staying home from school because of my condition, but it appeared that she wasn't planning to stay with me the whole day. Mom heated up some microwavable waffles for me and I ate in silence while she went to work on her laptop. While I ate, I continued to think about my situation and wondered what I could possibly do. Last night, I'd overheard my parents arguing about that as well. Mom wanted to check me into a hospital, but dad argued that no doctors there would be able to help me and that all it would do was make my situation more public. "The last thing we need is for the media to get wind of this," dad had said firmly. "If this goes public, Oscar will never have a moment of privacy in his life." In the end, the decision was to do what we had already planned on doing. We'd wait until after we talked with Mrs. Jonas' friend before we made any real decisions. I just hoped that she'd be able to set up a meeting soon...and that it wouldn't be a waste of time. Once I was done eating, I finally told my mom what I'd figured out. "It's not just giving me breasts," I said, my voice choking as I forced the words out. "It's turning me into a girl..." As I said the words, it was almost as though a dam suddenly broke and tears began to pour down my cheeks. I tried wiping my tears away but more kept coming. "I'm sorry," mom told me sympathetically. She put her arms around me and quietly promised, "Everything will be fine." "Will it?" I demanded. "How is it going to be all right when I've got a bigger chest then yo