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Chapter 1 If there was a more apt two word definition of "enigma," it was the words "Marc Townsend." On the one hand, we have a man of slight build, about 5" 5" tall, 25 years old but looking like he was barely old enough to have left school and with unremarkable features - not unattractive but, equally, not traditionally attractive either. On the other hand, he was already earning a six-figure basic salary with generous bonuses on top at a successful digital marketing agency and with legendary success with the opposite sex. In fact, if he turned up at work on Monday morning without showing everyone photos of his latest "conquest" on his smartphone, people started to wonder what was wrong. "How does he do it?" was the question on everyone's lips. The short answer was that he worked hard and had forgotten more about digital marketing than most of his colleagues have ever learned. With Marc running your campaign, it was a sure-fire success; his clients knew it and were prepared to pay handsomely for his talents in the knowledge that their investment would be repaid many times over. He'd carefully cultivated his image - Marc was not the name his parents had given him but he thought that Mark with a "k" on the end was far too ordinary so he'd replaced it with a "c." He'd also let his hair grow long and it was now tied back in a ponytail and he'd eschewed the black polo necks loved by most of his colleagues in favour of trendy suits. As he turned up at clients" premises, they knew he'd arrived by the smell of success that surrounded him. And, of course, all of the money had made him incredibly popular with the wrong kind of women. As far as Marc was concerned, no beautiful woman was off-limits and, invariably, his weekends consisted of picking up his latest conquest at one of the local clubs, taking her back to his place for an overnight stay and then, realising that she wasn't "the one," taking her back home. As they parted the hapless girl would normally ask him to promise to phone her soon; he would give his solemn promise to do so before driving off with no intention of ever contacting her again. Actually, to say that no beautiful woman was off-limits wasn't true. Nicki and Sarah-Jane, his flatmates were definitely beautiful but were most definitely off-limits and they'd made a point of making sure that their boyfriends were round when Marc went to look at the flat after they'd advertised the spare room for rent. Of the two, Nicki was the more outgoing and worked as a PR executive; Sarah-Jane was quieter and had recently qualified as a doctor. The three of them had come to an uneasy understanding which basically boiled down to if there was any inappropriate behaviour in front of them, Marc was out. They didn't approve of Marc's never ending stream of overnight guests but, as they both had their boyfriends to stay regularly, there was little they could do about it. One Sunday morning, as Marc returned to the flat after dropping off his latest "success," Nicki asked him, "Are you ever going to treat these girls with any respect?" Marc looked puzzled. "What do you mean?" "You pick them up, bring them back here for sex then bundle them off home having got what you want." "Yes, so what? I buy all of their drinks, they get to ride in my top of the range Audi and a night of passion that I'm sure they'll never forget." "And you think that's all that a girl wants?" "To be honest, yes. You only have to look at the way they're dressed to know that they're 'gagging' for it! It's not my fault they haven't got the brains to match their beauty and, if they want to be seen with a rich guy and I am a rich guy, what's the problem?" Nicki gave him a withering look. "You have no idea how hard it is to be a woman. The pressures society puts on us, the barriers we encounter every day and the constant prejudice we face. It's definitely not easy." "What are you talking about," laughed Marc, "all you have to do is to look good and wait for a man to sweep you off your feet and keep you in the lap of luxury for the rest of your life. The man does all the work while you can lead a life of leisure." Nicki became annoyed. "If that's the way you think, there's no point in arguing with you any more. But I need to make you understand, if only so that the girls you so generously pick up and bring back here can have a shred of dignity. Sarah-Jane and I have arranged to go out this Saturday, if you come with us, we'll show you what I mean." "Brilliant, two women at the same time! Count me in!" "Don't get any ideas because THAT is not going to happen." ------ Chapter 2 Saturday had arrived and Marc settled down to watch the football on the TV. Making himself comfortable, he opened a can of beer and was about to take a drink when Nicki came into the room and said "What are you doing, it's time to get ready." "Time to get ready? It's only 5:00pm and we're not going out till 8:00. I'll start getting ready at 7:30 and I'll still be done before you and S-J." "Firstly, you know that Sarah-Jane hates you calling her S-J and secondly, I told you that we're going to show you what we mean when we say how hard it is being a woman. Come with me." Nicki picked up the remote control and turned off the TV. Grudgingly, Marc put his can of beer down and followed her to her bedroom where Sarah-Jane was sitting on the bed surrounded by a selection of lingerie, dresses, shoes, jewellery and other accessories. The penny dropped. "No way!" exclaimed Marc. "When you said you were going to show me how hard it was being a woman I didn't know you meant by dressing me up in all of this. I know people in the club and I'll be a laughing stock when they see me." "Oh, don't worry about that," interrupted Sarah-Jane, "by the time we've finished with you, your own mother wouldn't recognise you." "I don't care, it's just wrong, I'm not doing it." "Are you starting to understand the pressures we girls are under? Don't tell me that Mr 'Big Shot' is scared?" laughed Nicki. "Of course I'm not scared. I just don't want to be seen out wearing that stuff." "So you are scared," persisted Nicki, "if you weren't scared of being seen, you'd agree to do it." Marc realised he'd been backed into a corner and the only way out was to agree to their demands. He therefore accepted the challenge subject to their promise that they wouldn't make him look like a drag queen. What had he let himself in for? ------ Chapter 3 Three hours later, they were ready. During the transformation, they'd deliberately kept Marc away from any mirrors but now was the time for the big reveal. Marc stood up, a little unsteady on the 3 inch heels they'd chosen for him and followed Nicki & Sarah-Jane to the full height mirror in the hall. It took a couple of seconds for Marc to realise which of the three women looking back was him. Every ounce of manhood had been erased - partially thanks to the all over shave they'd made him have, partially thanks to the sticky tape that had been used to make sure that things were tucked away to give him a flat front down below and the hint of a cleavage above but mostly thanks to Nicki & Sarah-Jane's expertise with cosmetics, hair styling and choice of outfit. Marc took the sight in. His long hair had been curled into a feminine style framing his face. His face was now unrecognisable under layers of makeup which gave no clues at all that there was a male face underneath. His eyes moved down to his chest, enhanced with plenty of padding and the simulated cleavage before continuing past his well- defined waist (although, thanks to the corset, he was still having a little trouble breathing). His red mini-dress ended mid-thigh and this, combined with the stiletto courts that had reshaped his calves, showed off his black nylon-clad legs to perfection. Marc smiled to himself. There was no doubt about it - he looked HOT! In fact, he found himself thinking that the girl in the mirror was just the sort of girl he'd imagined himself settling down with one day. Maybe tonight was going to be fun after all and he started to look forward to the opportunity to prove the girls wrong. Being a woman was going to be so easy! "Come on, it's time to go." Nicki's voice woke Marc from his daydream and they stepped outside. "What should we call you tonight?" asked Sarah-Jane. "What name would you like? How about Tessa or Claudia? Or would you prefer something a bit more upper class? Freya, Saskia?" "Marc will do fine," hissed Marc. "I'm only doing this to prove you two wrong, not to indulge in some personal fantasy." "We'll see," laughed Nicki. "I haven't heard you complain yet!" ------ Chapter 4 "The Vaults" was a popular nightclub in the town centre. It had built up a reputation as being a venue tolerant of everyone - whether you were gay, straight or trans it didn't matter. Marc had been there many times - its strict door policy meant that, if your face didn't fit or if you'd not taken the trouble to look good, you weren't getting in. This, of course, suited Marc down to the ground - an abundant supply of beautiful women with no "plain-Jane" friends getting in the way. As the doorman lifted the rope to let the three of them in, it dawned on Marc that he would not be up to his usual tricks that night. As it was still early, there were plenty of tables so Nicki led the group over to a vacant table away from the dance floor. Straight away, though, Marc sensed that several men around the room were looking at him; one in particular seemed to have fixed a stare on him and smiled when Marc looked at him. "There's a guy over there staring at me," whispered Marc. "Welcome to womanhood, you'd better get used to it. We haven't dressed like this to attract men - we've dressed to feel good. The problem is that men don't get it and just assume that any woman in a short skirt is fair game." Marc understood exactly what Nicki meant. Maybe getting through the evening wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. Sarah-Jane sensed that things were getting awkward. "Shall I get some drinks? What will you two have?" "Vodka & Coke for me," replied Nicki. "And a pint of lager for me," added Marc. "Oh no you won't," laughed Nicki, "it's girls' drinks only tonight. Get him a vodka and Coke too." Sarah-Jane went over to the bar and, while she was waiting for the drinks to be poured, Marc saw her talking to the staring guy. "What was that about?" asked Marc when she returned. "Oh, he just asked if he could buy our drinks but I said that we were just out for a quiet night on our own. I think he's moved on to someone else now." "Thank you," said Marc with a sigh of relief. "I'm starting to understand what you mean but, if I was a girl on the lookout for a guy, surely that would be a good first move?" "You really think that offering someone a drink is all it takes? And if you accept it, what is he going to want in return? You still have a lot to learn." The evening progressed with a steady stream of vodka & Cokes. As he had more to drink, Marc became more relaxed, and finally plucked up enough courage to go to the bar to buy drinks. As he stood waiting, he became aware of a hand on his bottom. He looked round to see a man, balding and probably in his 40s smiling at him; "How about you and me hooking up together tonight, if you know what I mean darlin." Marc knew exactly what he meant and pushed his hand away. This only resulted in the man coming closer and putting both arms round Marc. "Oh come on darling, don't play hard to get. You know you want me really." "That's enough, Dave. I've told you before to leave the ladies alone and if I catch you pestering them again, you're out." It was the barman, coming to Marc's rescue in the nick of time. "Sorry about that, love," he continued, "three vodka & Cokes was it?" Marc smiled and nodded, relieved that he had not had to use the one thing that would give his secret away - his voice. Taking the drinks back to the table, he caught his reflection in one of the many mirrors dotted around the club and stopped to admire himself. He smiled and his reflection smiled back but what surprised him was how he felt. Here was a woman who he knew but, unlike all of his conquests over the years, he also wanted to get to know. Sure, Nicki and Sarah-Jane were right about how it was not easy being a woman but, deep down, he knew that he was also enjoying the sensations that the clothes were giving him - the softness of the fabrics and the gentle constriction that the undergarments imposed. Whilst not a heavy drinker, Marc could hold his drink but, by 11:00 he was starting to realise that there was a big difference between drinking pints of beer and drinking spirits and he was no longer completely sober. The music had by now been turned up and people were moving to the dance floor. "Let's dance!" cried Nicki. Marc protested that he didn't want to make a fool of himself but realised that, with Nicki & Sarah-Jane gone, he'd been on his own if he didn't go too. "Dance like a girl," Nicki hissed to Marc, "you're not auditioning for Saturday Night Fever!" Marc looked around and noticed how the girls danced with their hips, taking small steps and with minimal arm movement. He did his best to copy what he saw and soon Nicki whispered, "That's better," to him. Needless to say, the group of three were soon surrounded by guys, chests puffed out as if in some ritual and brushing up against them as they danced. At first, Nicki & Sarah-Jane egged them on with some gentle flirting but, after a while, it all became a bit too much. Finally, Sarah-Jane declared, "I've had enough of this. Let's go for another drink and sit down." Given the amount they'd all had to drink, whether it was sensible to order double Vodkas this time was highly debateable, particularly as there were no longer any tables free and the three of them had to stand. By the time they'd finished their drinks, all three realised that they were now quite drunk; not so intoxicated that they were unable to control themselves but not sober either. What they definitely didn't notice was the man who approached Marc from behind and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me. I couldn't help noticing you on the dancefloor and just wanted to tell you how beautiful you look tonight. Would you allow me to buy you a drink?" Marc froze. What should he do now? How would he decline the offer without giving away his secret? "She'll have a vodka and Coke!" Marc looked over at Nicki who was, by now, laughing hysterically. "Would you two ladies like a drink too?" Marc's admirer continued. "Oh, no thank you, I think we've had enough," replied Sarah Jane, trying to ensure that they didn't get any drunker than they already were. As the admirer went off to buy Marc's drink, Marc turned to Nicki with his face like thunder. "How could you?" he asked. "What's he going to want in return?" "Looks like you're about to find out," said Nicki, still laughing uncontrollably "I told you that you still have a lot to learn and maybe this is the lesson you need." The admirer returned with Marc's drink and a glass of water for himself. Sensing that, this time, Nicki had gone much too far, Sarah-Jane decided to take control of the situation and started making small talk with their new friend. Her plan was to talk to him for about five minutes and then say that they needed to go and perhaps they would see him around. The plan seemed to be working and she was just about to start excusing them when the lights went down and the DJ said, "OK guys, we're going to slow things down now. This is 'Lovesong' by Adele." Before Sarah-Jane had finished, Marc's admirer took Marc's hand and led him onto the dancefloor. "I love this song, such beautiful lyrics," he said as he placed his hands around Marc's waist. Sensing that, for his own safety, he would have to play the part until the end of the song, he put his hands on his admirer's shoulders and swayed gently to the lilting music. Finally, the song finished and Marc looked up to thank his admirer for the dance. What happened next happened so quickly that neither Marc, nor Nicki & Sarah-Jane who were walking towards them saw it coming. Marc's admirer pulled Marc to him and kissed him. Just lightly but on the lips. Marc just stared in shock for a split second before it happened again. This time, though, it wasn't a simple peck and Mark felt his admirer's tongue part his lips and start to explore his mouth. His head was telling him that this was all wrong but for some reason he didn't feel repulsed. Whilst his boobs were false, the sensation of them pressing on his chest as he was pulled in closer was very real and not at all unpleasant. The amount he'd had to drink was clearly playing a part and, whilst he'd certainly never thought of himself as gay, here he was being kissed by another man, and, in the process, feeling turned on himself. He caught his reflection in the mirror of one wall of the dance floor and saw an attractive woman locked in an embrace with a tall, handsome man. It just looked and felt so natural and, holding his admirer closer, Marc closed his eyes and returned the passion, their tongues dancing a ritual dance around each other. "Come on Adele, it's time to go!" Sarah-Jane's voice cut through the situation like a hot knife through butter. "Adele, that's a nice name. Can I see you again?" As the three walked away, he ran after them and handed Marc a card with a phone number of it. "Please call me, I'd love to see you again." Marc took the card and put it in his bag. And then the three of them were gone. "Adele? Where did that come from?" asked Marc, all of a sudden feeling a lot more sober. "It was all that I could think of on the spur of the moment," replied Sarah-Jane. "Anyway, it was a nice song and you seemed to be enjoying it much more than we thought you would." "I'm tired and I just want to go home now," said Marc, shutting down that particular line of conversation. "I think I've had enough of being a woman for now." "Oh dear!" said Nicki, rather sarcastically. "Are you starting to realise that being a woman is harder than you thought?" "Well, maybe a little bit but I think you'd both agree that I did cope rather well." "Yes, you looked the part but that was thanks to Sarah-Jane and me," retorted Nicki "but if you consider having to be rescued from unwanted advances several times and throwing yourself at a guy who bought you a drink doing "rather well," I think you've got a lot to learn." "I did not throw myself at him - you practically forced me on him!" Nicki laughed. "All part of your initiation into womanhood and, I have to admit, you did seem to handle it, or handle him to be more precise, rather well. I'm almost proud of you." "I was just doing what society expected of me," replied Marc as they walked up the drive to their front door. Marc walked into his bedroom and, just before he closed his door, he put his head out and said, with an enigmatic smile "We did make a cute couple didn't we?!" And, as the bedroom door closed, Nicki and Sarah-Jane just looked at each other. "I think there's more to Marc than meets the eye." ------ Chapter 5 The following morning, Marc woke at around 11:00 with a hangover. Head thumping, he dragged himself into the kitchen where Sarah-Jane was sitting at the table with a large mug of coffee looking equally dishevelled. Nicki, despite having had more to drink than the other two was bright as a button: "See you guys tonight," she called as she went out through the front door. "How does she do it?" questioned Marc as he made himself a coffee "I wish I knew," replied Sarah-Jane who continued, "anyway, let's talk about you." "Do we have to?" "No we don't have to but I think there are things that you're not telling us." "Like what?" "Like how you protested so much about dressing as a female for the evening out but then were quite happy to admire your reflection whenever there was a mirror to look in." "I looked hot." "What about when you and I went to the ladies," room and you spent five minutes fixing your lipstick and mascara?" "I just wanted to make sure I didn't give the game away as girls always fix their makeup." "And the kiss? Most guys would be repulsed at the prospect of kissing another man, regardless of how they were dressed. I can just about buy your other excuses but you can't expect me to believe that you gave another guy a passionate kiss just to keep the pretence up. And what was that you said last night about being a cute couple?" Marc's face turned bright red. Sarah-Jane reached over and squeezed his hand. "It's OK. I won't tell anyone, not even Nicki, but talk to me. Are you gay?" "No, absolutely not. I've never looked at another guy like this before and the whole prospect of gay sex is a complete turnoff." "So what is it then?" Marc took a deep breath. "In that moment, I was no longer a guy. I saw our reflection in the mirror and it brought out a whole load of emotions I thought I'd buried. At that moment, I so badly wanted to feel him inside me - but to feel him inside me as a woman if you understand what I mean? As you know, I've been with hundreds of girls over the years but none has ever made me feel like I felt in his arms last night." "Wow." Sarah-Jane was speechless for a moment as she took in the enormity of what Marc had just told her. Then she continued, "You mentioned buried emotions. What do you mean?" "Well, I have a twin sister and we're very close. When we were young, we played together a lot but as we were obviously not identical twins, she was very pretty and had a completely different personality to me. I was the quiet and shy one whereas she was much more outgoing so we tended to play what she wanted to play. Things were made worse when people came round to the house - they'd make a big fuss of her and practically ignore the sullen little boy sitting in the corner. Of course, I was really envious of her and wished that I was her so when she suggested that we played "dress up," in her room, I readily agreed. I loved the softness of her clothes and she thought having a sister was much better than an annoying brother so our little game was repeated often. Like many others in this situation, each night I used to pray that I'd wake up as a girl the following day but, of course, it never happened. At age 11 we went to different schools - mine was all-boys secondary and hers all girls. With no girls at my school, when we did a school play, some of the boys had to dress up. Anyway, one year the school decided to do "Grease." I thought it would be fun to be one of the "Pink Ladies," but somehow managed to land the starring role of Sandy. I thought it would be a good opportunity to dress up again but I'd not considered the implications of what I'd agreed to. Everything was fine until the dress rehearsal. For most of the play, I just had to wear flat pumps, a simple dress, a cardigan and ribbons in my hair and skip around and sing. But, as we know, Sandy looks a bit different at the end of the play so the teachers took me into a room for the costume change into tight black trousers, high heels, big hair and makeup. When I looked in the mirror, I couldn't believe my eyes and, unfortunately, I had the same reaction that most teenage boys have when confronted by an attractive girl. The problem was, in tight black trousers, it had nowhere to hide, much to the amusement of my classmates when I walked back onto the stage. For months afterwards, every time I walked into a room, the other boys would sing the first couple of lines of "Sandra Dee," to me with a slight alteration: "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee. I can't control my small willy." From that point on, I was determined never to give any clues as to how I really felt and made it my mission to get as many girls as I could. In the end, the "Grease," incident got forgotten and, by sheer persistence, I ended up with practically every girl of my age from my sister's school at one point or another. Once I'd left school and got the job, things just got even more insane, particularly as my salary started to skyrocket. The shorter the skirt and the higher the heel, the better and, well, you know the rest." Sarah-Jane looked stunned "my god, I had no idea.." "To be honest, I don't feel particularly good about the way I've treated those women but, to be fair, none of them have ever complained." "Maybe not but many of them went with you hoping for something more than a sex-fuelled night and then getting dumped. You say it started as a reaction to the name-calling at school but it sounds to me like you wanted to live your life through these women. If you couldn't be the mini skirt wearing woman in high heels and makeup, then being close to someone who was was just about acceptable as a compromise? However, the question is what do you do now? It sounds to me like Pandora's Box has been well and truly opened and you're not going to be able to put the lid back on any time soon." "I guess you're right," admitted Marc, "and as for what I do now, I don't know. I just need help." Sarah-Jane looked at Marc. For the first time, his air of arrogance seemed to have evaporated and, it its place, the look of a frightened child. "OK, I'll help you. I don't have to go to work for another few hours so let's find out who you really are. Follow me." Marc got up and followed Sarah-Jane to her bedroom. In the corner were a few bags full of clothes. "I've been sorting through my clothes and I don't wear these any more. I was going to give them to charity but you can have them if you want. Let's have a look through and see if we can find something for you to wear today. We're a similar size so most should fit you." Sarah-Jane emptied the bags onto the bed. Marc rummaged through and quickly found a sequinned mini dress and a pair of high heeled sandals. "What about these?" "Absolutely not. I last wore these when I was 16 so you'll look ridiculous. Also, even if they were age-appropriate, no woman would wear something like this on a Sunday lunchtime. Let me choose something or we'll be here all day." She rummaged through the piles of clothes and soon found a pair of skinny jeans, a soft cowl-necked sweater and a pair of flat pumps. She passed them to Marc with a pair of panties, tights and a bra. "Perfect - go and put these on. You can use your socks to pad out the bra for now. Come back when you're ready." Marc did as he was told and, as he returned, Sarah-Jane asked him to sit down at the dressing table. This time she hadn't covered the mirror so that he could see what she was doing. As Sarah-jane applied the cosmetics, she explained how to use contouring to reduce the prominence of his male features and how to enhance his eyes and lips to make these the focal points of his face. "There, finished, come with me," she finally declared and took Marc to the full height mirror. This time there was no "wow" as he saw his reflection. In fact he almost felt a tinge of disappointment after is striking look from the night before, but then he looked harder. Thanks to the makeup, his features had become softer and more feminine. Whilst he could now see elements of his male face, he certainly didn't look like a man and, as a woman, didn't look out of place by Sarah- Jane. "Come on, we're going out. Take my long coat." Sarah-Jane's command brought him back to reality. ------ Chapter 6 As they stepped outside Marc felt Sarah-Jane's arm link with his. Only a few days previously, this would have been all he needed to make his move but now things felt different. Slowly, his life was starting to make sense and, as they walked around the shops together, he started to feel that maybe, he'd got things very wrong before. As they walked past one ladies clothing store, Sarah-Jane spotted a simple trouser suit paired with a plain white blouse in the window. "That would be really good for work," she observed. "I think it's a bit early for me to think of going to work dressed like that but it is nice," laughed Marc. "For me, silly. But if you like it, let's go and try it on!" "Oh, I couldn't. What if someone sees me?" "Look, we've passed hundreds of people this afternoon and no-one has noticed you. All the assistant will be worried about is making her commission and, if you let me do the talking, she'll be none the wiser." They entered the shop. "Good afternoon ladies. What can I do for you?" "We'd both like to try on the trouser suit you have in the window, please." "Certainly, I think we have your sizes." The assistant led them both to the fitting rooms and brought a suit and blouse for each of them; after changing into the clothes, they returned to the shop floor. The assistant nodded her approval then turned to Marc and said. "This really needs to be worn with heels. So much more feminine. Would you like to try these?" She handed Marc a pair of pointed ankle boots with a 3" heel and a silver buckle detail on the side; as he stood up, he immediately understood what she meant. As he gazed at his reflection in the mirror, he started to feel that it was now no longer a question of if he'd ever wear the suit to work but when. Sarah-Jane looked at Marc, his smile telling her all she needed to know. "We'll take them," she told the assistant. After returning to the fitting rooms to change back to their own clothes, they approached the counter to pay. Sarah-Jane reached into her bag to look for her credit card but, before she could find it, Marc handed his own card to the assistant to pay. Having completed the transaction, Marc followed Sarah-Jane to the door but the assistant caught up with them and tapped Marc on the shoulder. He turned round to see the assistant smiling. "I just wanted to wish you good luck on your journey. I would love to help you so please come back soon." Marc smiled and in his not very convincing feminine voice replied, "Thank you, I will." And with that, they left the shop. "See, I told you someone would notice me," said Marc. "Well, first of all," replied Sarah-Jane "she does run a ladies clothing store so she's probably better at reading people than most and secondly, what does it say on your credit card?" "Mr M Townsend?" "Exactly!" ------ Chapter 7 As it was now getting late, they returned home and, after getting changed, Sarah-Jane left for work. Meanwhile Marc returned to the piles of clothes Sarah-Jane had given him and started sorting through them. This time following her advice, he put all of the clothes from her teenage years back into the bags but, even so, after an hour or so he had a sizeable collection of clothing, both casual and smart and several pairs of shoes & boots which he took back to his room to put away. Then he remembered the trouser suit and boots. Of course, it was much too early to be thinking about wearing them to work but trying them on again would give him something to aim for. He'd just finished getting changed and topping up his lipstick using the mirror in the hall when he heard Nicki's key in the door. His first thought was to run to his room and hide but he'd have to emerge sometime and now as probably as good a time as any. He therefore stayed in the hall. "Hello Nicki," he said. "Marc? What on earth are you doing?" "It's Adele now," corrected Marc "at least while I'm dressed like this." Nicki looked at Marc and saw the joy on his face. "Oh Adele, you look fantastic," she said hugging Marc in the affectionate way that only two women can experience, "I'm so happy for you. Come and tell me everything." And so she and Marc sat down and Marc recounted everything, just as he had done with Sarah-Jane a few hours earlier. When he had finished, Nicki turned to him and said, "You know, I think we've finally found the real you. I never bought into all of your male chauvinist talk and "wham, bam, thank you ma'am," approach to relationships and to finally see that your personality has some depth to it is wonderful. I think we'll find you were born for womanhood." ------ Chapter 8 The following day, Marc was at his desk, as usual at 7:30am. He smiled to himself as he thought about the events of the weekend and if he had one regret, it was that he'd drunk so much at The Vaults that much of it had been lost in the haze of alcohol. Yes, he could remember the rush he'd felt when kissing his admirer but, whilst his memory of seeing their reflection together in the mirror was strong, he hadn't got a clue what his admirer actually looked like and doubted he'd recognise him again. However, now there was work to be done so Marc felt that there was nothing for it other than to throw himself back into his work and try to put everything else out of his mind. At 9:00, Marc's boss, Dave, came to his desk accompanied by a stranger. Marc, this is Stephen who is joining us today. Could you take an hour or so to show him around? Marc hated distractions like this; showing new members of staff round would not earn him any money and he had client presentations to prepare. Still he remembered what happened last time he refused - ?10,000 was deducted from his bonus - so he grudgingly agreed. "Look," Marc started when Dave had gone, "this is a bit pointless as you'll have forgotten everything in an hour or two. I'm going to see a client in half an hour so why don't you come along with me and we can talk in the car?" "Sounds good to me. I'll read this stuff Dave's given me till you're ready to go," replied Steven. Half an hour later, they were in Marc's car on the 40 minute drive to the client's offices. On the way, Marc told Stephen all about the company and how things worked, who he needed to be careful of and details of the clients they were going to see. Despite Marc's earlier misgivings, conversation was easy and the questions Stephen asked were well thought through and not at all typical of the type of questions most new employees tend to ask. The meeting with the client went well. Marc was, as always focussed and Stephen contributed some good ideas including one that had never occurred to Marc. It was very clear that they were going to work well together and the client promised to get back to them with a decision by the end of the day. On the way back to the office, conversation moved to their interests outside work and they found that they had a lot of interests in common from their love of fast cars to the football team they both followed. Finally, the conversation turned to their personal lives; "You married?" asked Stephen. "You must be joking!" replied Marc. "Far too many beautiful women around to settle down with just one! What about you?" "I was engaged five years ago, but, unfortunately my fianc?e Emily was killed in a car accident a couple of months before the wedding." "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, it must have been terrible." "It was and people say that I should move on and find someone else but she was so perfect that no one else has ever matched up to her." "I don't want to sound insensitive but do you think you may be trying too hard to replace her?" suggested Marc, not normally noted for such deep relationship advice. "You may be right. I decided this year that I would stop looking and see what happened. Funnily enough, I met someone last Saturday who I can't put out of my mind." "That's good. When are you seeing her again?" "That's the problem. I don't know if I'll ever see her again. We had one dance together and then we kissed. But there was a passion in that kiss that I've never experienced before. When the dance was over her friends came over and told her it was time to go - I just had time to give her my phone number before she left. I'd love to see her again and get to know her but the only thing I know about her is her name - Adele." Marc nearly crashed the car. The guy he'd kissed in the club was sitting next to him in the car but, worse still, was now a work colleague who he'd have to see every day. How long would it be before his secret was out? The rest of the journey back to the office was largely made in silence; Stephen dozed off and Marc tried to make sense of the situation. As the day wore on, Marc slowly managed to relax but the fact that Stephen was obviously smitten with his female alter ego troubled him. Worse still, Marc knew that, in his female guise he'd been a willing participant and encouraged Stephen and now that he'd taken tentative steps to become his true self, how would he cope if he started to have feelings for Stephen? In the end, he knew that he just had to get out of the office to clear his head and, telling his colleagues that he didn't feel very well, he headed home. ------ Chapter 9 Nicki and Sarah-Jane were already home when Marc got back. As they sat together in the lounge, Nicki & Sarah-Jane sat in stunned silence as Marc updated them on the day's events. "Well, at least we know your admirer's name and what he looks like," laughed Nicki when Marc had finished. "I think that's the least of Marc's worries," scolded Sarah-Jane, trying to bring the conversation back to a more serious footing. She turned to Marc "Putting everything else to one side. How do you feel about Stephen now you've met him properly?" "He's a handsome, engaging and funny guy who's good to be around. If I was a woman, I think I'd want to get to know him better as he seems like he'd be a good catch for someone." "For someone or for you?" "To be honest, I don't know. When I'd got over the initial shock of finding out who he was, I had this nagging feeling inside me. It's difficult to describe but it was almost like an urge to turn the clock back to Saturday night and go through it all again but this time not walking away so soon. But then I'd come back to my senses and realise that that could not happen." Sarah-Jane took a deep breath. "We didn't cover much about transgender issues in medical school but I do know that there's strong evidence to support the theory that it results from the brain and the body's hormones being out of step with each other or, to put it another way, a brain that's female to a greater or lesser extent fighting with male hormones. It may explain why you've had what I can only describe as an appalling attitude to women for so long - your hormone imbalance is causing your subconscious mind to react against itself - and it could also explain why you found the whole thing of dressing and acting like a woman so satisfying." She then took a deep breath and continued. "I could be struck off for doing this," she started, "so even if you disapprove, promise that you'll never tell anyone what I've done." "I promise," said Marc. "Me too," added Nicki. "OK, then. This is a month's supply of spironolactone. It's normally used to treat heart complaints but, as it is a testosterone blocker, it's also used in the early stages of treatment of transgender patients. I suggest you try taking it for the next month and see how you feel." "What's it going to do to me?" "Well, let's go through the negative aspects first. Your sex drive will go down, you'll probably feel nauseous from time to time and you may get headaches. On the positive side, it'll stop testosterone interfering with your brain and you should feel a lot calmer as a result. It also has some oestrogen-like properties so you may experience symptoms similar to the early stages of female puberty such as a tingling in your nipples. Don't worry, though, there's not enough here to have a lasting effect on you and if you stop taking it, everything will go back to normal. However, if you feel that things are better by taking it, you can go to the doctor to get a referral to an endocrinologist who'll look more deeply into your hormone balance." "OK, let's give it a go, then," said Marc popping out one of the pills and swallowing it. Marc took the pills each day for the next few days and, just as Sarah- Jane had predicted, after a day or two, his nipples became sore. What struck more than anything, though, was that his inner conflicts were dissipating; he was now starting to become much calmer inside and was increasingly able to see the positives that would come from becoming a woman rather than the negatives of no longer being a man. He also started dressing in female clothes when he got home from work - nothing fancy, just underwear, jeans and a top with a little makeup. By the end of the week, Marc knew for certain where his destiny lay and, after a quick internet search, found a private gender clinic in London. Luckily, they had an appointment slot available for the following day and, after a probing discussion with the specialist, he came away with a prescription for spironolactone and estradiol, the latter an oestrogen supplement which would accelerate his transition. The clinic also gave him access to a speech therapist to assist in the feminisation of his voice. Marc's body reacted well to the drugs, particularly as he was still young. Breast growth became apparent after a few weeks and, after three months, he was having to bind his chest before work. Facially, he couldn't detect much difference but Sarah-Jane and Nicki both reassured him that changes were happening. Emotionally, he was much more content although he did find that he tended to cry a lot more during the sad parts of films. Of course, though, the biggest change was in his outlook. He no longer prowled the nightclubs looking for his latest "hook-up," and the weekends now tended to be a meal out with his flatmates or time in watching a film. He did keep the pretence up at work, though, and when asked about his weekend, would show a photo of one of his many historic conquests which he kept on his phone. Four months after starting hormone treatment, Marc's birthday was approaching. Nicki asked what he'd like to do to celebrate and Marc decided it would be fun to go back to The Vaults, just as they had done several months earlier. "I hope you're going to behave yourself this time!" laughed Nicki. "Oh, I hope I'm not!" replied Marc. ------ Chapter 10 As Marc strode confidently up to the doorman in his thigh-length dress and 4 inch heels, Sarah-Jane and Nicki both commented on how far he'd come. Thanks to the hormones he'd been taking, he now looked utterly feminine and, having seen the speech therapist regularly, he was now able to change to a female voice at will. Best of all, though, he felt & looked great, completely unrecognisable from the guy he still was at work and now understood completely that he had dressed for his own pleasure and not to be eye candy for anyone else. After buying drinks at the bar, the three of them sat down at the same table they had occupied last time and it was not long before they were having to fend off a procession of guys offering them drinks with cheesy chat up lines. This time, however, Marc needed no help in delivering put downs and sending them on their way. Marc reflected on how he was having the best birthday ever but, as he excused himself to go to the ladies," room, he was totally unprepared for the surprise which was about to be sprung on him. As he walked back to the table, he noticed a guy sitting and talking to Sarah-Jane and Nicki. He couldn't see his face but as he got back to the table, Nicki said "Adele, you remember Stephen who you met here a few months ago?" And at that point Stephen turned round and got up. "Adele, at last I've found you again. I recognised your friends from last time. You know I was so disappointed when you didn't phone and I've been coming here every week looking for you since." Nicki, sensing Marc's shock, jumped in. "Oh, I'm sure it was nothing personal. Adele had to go away for a while but she's back now so I'm sure you two would like to spend time getting to know each other." Nicky and Sarah-Jane excused themselves and left Marc and Stephen on their own at the table. After he had got over his initial shock, Marc was able to compose himself and started asking Stephen all about himself. Of course, he already knew most of the answers but, at least, while Stephen was talking about himself, he couldn't start asking Marc similar questions. Finally, the music started and Stephen led Marc to the dance floor. It quickly became apparent that Stephen was still smitten with "Adele," and, thanks to the hormones he was taking, Marc realised that he was strongly attracted to Stephen. It was only a matter of time before their lips met and, as he felt Stephen hold him tight, Marc knew that he had met the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. As the evening drew to a close, Stephen asked Marc if they could meet for Sunday lunch the following day and Marc readily agreed, suggesting an Italian restaurant that had just opened in the town centre. With a final kiss, they went their separate ways and Marc rejoined his flatmates for the walk home. The following day, Marc was up early to get ready. The realisation that Stephen was "the one," had convinced him that he now had to be honest and tell him his secret. But he also knew that it had to be done with dignity so that if Stephen decided that he could not cope with the news, he would be able to walk away with his head held high. At 1:00, Marc made his way to the Italian restaurant and was a bag of nerves. How had he managed to get himself into all of this and how was he going to explain things to Stephen. He caught his reflection in a shop window. He wore plain dark trousers with a white blouse and teamed with a pair of stiletto court shoes. The whole outfit had a touch of class about it - smart enough to go anywhere but not tarty or overdone. As always, his hair and makeup were perfect and gave no clue to his real identity - thanks to the tuition from his two flatmates, he was now proficient in applying it himself. Finally, he arrived at the restaurant a couple of minutes after one and Stephen was already waiting for him. "Oh, Adele, you look amazing. Thank you so much for coming." Many would have found Stephen's gushing greeting hollow but, from Stephen, it sounded sincere. Marc smiled back and, as they followed the waiter to their table things just felt right. As they settled down at their table, with a glass of wine each, Marc knew that he had to tell Stephen the truth early on; waiting would only have prolonged the agony for Marc and the upset for Stephen if he didn't take it well. "Stephen. I've got something to tell you. It will probably change things between us but, hopefully, not by too much." "What is it Adele?" "I'm transgender." "What do you mean?" "I was born a boy and am still legally male. However, I've been on hormone therapy to transition to female for several months, and, in fact it was meeting you at The Vaults that made me realise who I really am and who and what I want to be." Stephen looked shocked. "Wow, I wasn't expecting that. I need some time to process this. I'm going outside for a few minutes." Stephen left the table and, through the window, Marc saw Stephen walking away from the restaurant and disappear round the corner. "Is everything alright signorina?" Marc had not noticed the waiter approaching the table. "Yes thank you, he's just popped out to get something from the car." After 15 minutes, Stephen had still not returned so Marc called the waiter over. "I'm sorry, it looks like we've had a change of plan. Please could you just bring the bill over for the drinks?" "Of course, signorina, I understand," replied the waiter and he went off to get the bill. He returned a few minutes later and Marc was just reaching into his handbag for his credit card when Stephen returned. "I'm sorry it took me so long. Now, shall we order dinner?" "Of course signore," replied the waiter screwing up the bill. As they waited for their food to come, Stephen started to talk. "As I said, this is an awful lot to process. Here I am, a normal heterosexual male sitting with one of the most beautiful women I've ever met who's just told me that she's legally male. Half of me wants to just walk away and never see you again but I just can't. I lost one love of my life five years ago and to walk away from the first woman I've met since who may be worthy to fill the gap she left would just have been senseless.." Marc felt tears welling up inside him. Stephen continued, "But there's one thing I can't handle and that's being with a guy. I don't want to know anything about your male side and I never want to see you as a male." "Yes," said Marc, a tear running down his cheek as he realised the implications of what he'd just agreed to. He also realised that, whilst he'd wanted to tell Stephen everything during lunch, revealing who he really was would only end very badly for both of them so that particular confession would have to wait for another time. After Stephen had asked a few more questions about Marc's transition intentions, the conversation moved to other things for the rest of the meal. As they left the restaurant and said their goodbyes, Stephen turned to Marc and said, "Thank you for being honest with me, it can't have been easy for you but it wasn't easy for me either. The thing is that, from the first time I met you, I've not been able to stop thinking about you but have always been worried that, if I did see you again, I'd be disappointed. This weekend has been beyond my wildest dreams as you're more beautiful than I ever imagined and, whilst I know it's very early, I think I'm falling in love with you and I don't want anything to come between us." "I feel exactly the same," said Marc as they kissed for a final time and went their separate ways. ------ Chapter 11 The following day, Marc was back in male mode and at his desk at 7:30 as usual. Stephen arrived at around 8:00 looking on cloud 9. "You look happy!" exclaimed Marc. "I found her!" came the excited reply. "Found who?" "Adele of course, the girl from the nightclub." "Oh, her. How did it go?" Marc obviously knew the answer but it seemed like a good opportunity to find out whether Stephen was still keen "Better than I could ever have expected. She's beautiful, smart, engaging and I think I'm falling in love with her," replied Stephen, deliberately omitting details of his girlfriend's little secret. "Wow, bit early for that isn't it. Anyway, whatever, we've got clients to see, contracts to win so let's focus on the job in hand." Focus was the last thing on Stephen's mind as he excitedly showed everyone the photograph of the two of them which he'd asked the waiter to take on his phone the day before. In the end, Marc had had enough and went over to the water cooler at the far end of the office for a drink. Barbara, Dave's PA was there so Marc passed the time of day with her. "Stephen seems happy," he started. "Yes, he does, doesn't he," replied Barbara with an undertone that Marc sensed was distinctly hostile. "What do you mean?" asked Marc, trying to diffuse the developing unease. "Oh, nothing in particular. I just hope that he doesn't get badly hurt, if you know what I mean." "Agreed," said Marc as he quickly walked back to his desk realising that his secret may have been guessed. Finally, by lunchtime, Stephen had calmed down and things had got back to normal where they remained for the rest of an otherwise uneventful week. On the Friday afternoon, just after Marc had gone home for the weekend, Dave came out of his office with a file for him. "Where's Marc?" he asked. "Just gone home replied Stephen who was still working on a client's marketing plan." "Damn, I needed him to take this and read it over the weekend. I've got to run now, any chance that you could drop it off at his place on your way home?" "No problem. I'll be here for another hour or two and then I'll take it. Can you give me his address?" A couple of hours later, Stephen tidied up his desk and made his way to Marc's flat with the file. ------ Chapter 12 As usual, Marc had showered after getting home and was now changed into female clothes. Free of their binding, his breasts were quite prominent and the blouse he was wearing showed off his developing cleavage to great effect. He'd removed the band from his pony tail so his hair fell down beyond his shoulders and, with a light application of makeup he looked unmistakably female - sufficient to be recognisable as Adele but not too much to remove all traces of Marc. The three of them had just settled down to eat when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," said Marc getting up and walking to the door. As he opened the door, he was confronted by Stephen holding the file. "Marc? Adele?" he stuttered. "You'd better come in," said Marc and led him to the lounge where the others were eating. "I think you need to start explaining things pretty fast," said Stephen leaving the others in no doubt that things were about to turn very bad. So Marc told him everything, from his early realisation that he should have been born a girl, through their first meeting which turned his life upside down, his transition and the realisation that he was falling in love. "I was falling in love too you know. I was prepared to accept your transition but knowing that you held back your true identity from me changes everything." "I wanted to tell you at the restaurant but you told me that you didn't want to know anything about my male identity." "How did you ever think you could keep this a secret from me? Anyway, don't bother answering because we're finished. Goodbye." Marc started to sob uncontrollably as Stephen started to walk to the door. Nicki stood up to block his path. "Don't go, can't you see what this has done to her? You're the first person she's ever loved." "Her, she? Don't you mean him and he? It's a good job I've got a week off next week as I'd probably want to punch him when I got to work on Monday." And then he had gone. ------ Chapter 13 As Marc got into work on Monday morning, he knew what he had to do. As soon as Dave arrived, Marc followed him to his office and shut the door. As they looked through the glass partition, Marc's colleagues could see from the looks on both of their faces that something serious was being discussed and no clues were given when Marc emerged an hour or so later with Dave saying that he would get back to him in the middle of the week. His colleagues could tell that something was wrong but any attempts to find out from Marc were met with a terse, "Everything's fine." On Wednesday morning, Dave went over to Marc's desk and said, "Head Office said everything's fine including the restructure you proposed so go and do what you have to do and we'll see you next week." Marc smiled and thanked Dave with a handshake before clearing his desk and putting the work carefully in the drawer. He then clapped a couple of times to get everyone's attention and asked his colleagues if they'd mind coming over for a few minutes as he had something to say. "As you all know, I've enjoyed, if that's the right word, a bit of a reputation as a womaniser but for all the wrong reasons. Over the past few months, I've had a unique insight into why the way I treated the women I met was so wrong and, if any of you have been offended by my attitude, I unreservedly apologise. The thing is that I've now fallen in love and am hoping to spend the rest of my life with that person." As a few "ahhh, that's lovely" type comments rippled through the room, he continued. "However, I've been dishonest with that person by leading a double life. On the one hand, I was the person they too wanted to spend the rest of their life with but, on the other, a person who they would not, under any circumstances, want to be with. That person is Stephen." Gasps of shock echoed round the room as Marc continued. "You see, thanks to Stephen, I have been able to accept that I am transgender and am now taking steps to put things right. Until last Friday, Stephen only knew me as Adele and to find out that the woman of his dreams was his male work colleague was more than he, or anyone else for that matter, could handle. Whether I can ever mend things between Stephen and me, I'm just not sure. What I am sure about, though, is regardless of whether or not my future lies with Stephen, I can no longer live two parallel lives and it's time for those lives to become one and that one will be Adele. So it's time for me, Marc to say goodbye to you all and to ask you for two things. Firstly, don't judge Stephen as none of this was his fault and secondly, please could you help Adele settle in when she comes to work on Monday as she'll need your help more than you will ever realise?" To a chorus of applause and shouts of, "Well done," Marc walked out of the office for his final journey home before shedding the final vestiges of his old life forever. ------ Chapter 14 By the time her alarm clock went off at 5:00, Adele was already wide awake. Today was the day she was to return to work and the mix of excitement and apprehension almost overcame her as she got up. The previous week had been eventful. Apart from everything going on at work, she'd gone through all of the legal processes necessary to change her name and gender marker. She'd also phoned a cosmetic clinic to arrange breast augmentation and, thanks to a cancellation by another patient, she had had the procedure done the previous Friday. As she put on her bra, she knew that Marc had gone for good, well nearly gone but even the last reminders of her previous life had become very small as a result of her hormone therapy and even they'd be gone forever in a year or two. She walked over to her wardrobe. She had regularly gone back to the clothes shop since the assistant's offer to help her and now had a wide range of outfits for every occasion. And shoes - flats, heels, more heels - a girl can never have too many pairs, she thought. But today, there was going to be no going through her clothes trying to decide what to wear as she had already decided. There, hanging in front of her was the suit and blouse she'd bought on her first shopping trip with Sarah-Jane, never before worn outside the flat and just waiting for her first day at work. She put the outfit on, followed by the ankle boots she'd bought at the same time. She settled down at her dressing table to apply her makeup. There were going to be no half measures today and over the next 20 minutes, she skilfully erased all trace of Marc from her face. She walked to the kitchen where Nicki and Sarah-Jane were waiting for her with a bottle of champagne and three glasses, already filled. They took one each and Nicki proposed a toast. "To Adele. May your new life give you everything you so richly deserve." After clinking their glasses and taking a sip, Adele noticed that it was already 7:00 and time to leave for work. She took a final look in the mirror and knew that there was no going back. She just hoped that Stephen was OK too as no-one had heard from him at all during the previous week. ------ Chapter 15 For Stephen, there was no excitement, just a profound sadness at a level he had not experienced since his fianc?e had died. After tiring of the constant ringing of his phone which he did not answer, he just turned it off and sat alone to try to rationalise what had happened. How could he have been so stupid not to notice that the love of his life was really his work colleague? How could Marc have been so cruel to deceive him? He was so angry about what had happened but it wasn't really the deception at the root of his anger but more that someone he was falling in love so deeply with had been so cruelly taken from him. For a second time. Finally, though, he was sitting in his car in the company car park holding an envelope addressed to Dave in his hand. It was already 11:00, 3 hours later than he normally started work but he didn't care any more so took the letter he'd written from the unsealed envelope and read it one last time. "Please accept this as notice of my resignation with immediate effect. I understand that, under the terms of my contract, I am required to give three months notice; however for personal reasons I no longer feel able to continue in my role and therefore request my release today." That was it, short and to the point, bit what else could he do. Sitting next to Marc would be a constant reminder of what had happened and he knew that there was no way he could continue at the company. He got out of his car and walked slowly into the office looking straight ahead to avoid catching anyone's eye. Judging by the volume of calls he'd had before turning off his phone, everyone knew what had happened and he was in no mood to engage in any discussion or listen to the sympathetic platitudes that would surely be offered by his colleagues. As he walked to Dave's office, he barely noticed that crowd standing round his desk and certainly didn't want to find out what the commotion was about. He knocked on Dave's door and was invited in. "Sorry I'm so late, can I have a word with you?" "Yes, come and sit down, what is it?" "This is my resignation letter. I'd like to leave immediately please." Stephen stretched out to pass Dave the letter but Dave held up his hand. "Keep hold of that for a minute while you hear what I've got to say," he started. "Marc told me everything that had happened and, to cut a long story short, Marc no longer works here. So that gives me a vacancy to fill and I can't think of anyone more suited to it than you. It'll mean a large pay rise and bonuses if you're up to it." "Wow," said Stephen taking the letter back, "I wasn't expecting that." Dave continued, "To be honest, I wasn't certain whether we'd see you again after you ignored everyone's calls last week and, with Marc gone as well, I had to recruit a replacement to the team. I'm sorry that you didn't get a say in whether or not to hire the candidate but it's your team now and if you don't want them, they've agreed to leave immediately and unconditionally." Dave picked up his phone and dialled an internal number. "Can you come in please? Thanks." As the door opened, Dave looked up and said "come in and take a seat. I believe you two know each other." Stephen looked across to where Adele had sat down. She smiled at him and saw him return a flicker of a smile before he became serious again. Sensing the tension between them, Dave got up and left the room and closed the door behind him. "I'm so sorry about everything," said Adele, "none of this was your fault. You gave me so much by helping me find out who I really am and yet I caused you so much hurt. You of all people didn't deserve any of this." Stephen's mood lightened a little. "Look, I understand that things just got out of hand and, realising the scale of your deception, I wondered how I could ever trust you, or any other woman for that matter, ever again. More than anything, though, this is now about me, selfish thought that may sound. Coming in here will be a constant reminder that you and Marc are the same person." "I know that and that's why I suggested the job swop to Dave. I know I'll be earning a lot less from now on but Marc's old desk is yours now so you won't have to constantly look at me sitting there and be reminded of the past. And Marc's gone for good - his clothes are at the charity shop, you won't find his name on any legal documents," Looking down at her newly enhanced chest, Adele added "and these are the first part of my commitment to you that I will put right nature's wrongs. But now, as my boss, it's your decision. Do you want me to stay or go?" Stephen looked down, deep in thought for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he looked up at Adele and smiled properly for the first time since he'd arrived. "You know that I'm crazy about you and I have been since the first time I met you. I thought I'd lost you once and I don't want to lose you again. Whilst you didn't tell me who you were, you told me what you were as soon as we started dating and if, in your previous life, you'd been anyone else other than Marc, we wouldn't be having this conversation so why should who you were make any difference?" "So does that mean we're still together and I can stay?" asked Adele, tears welling up with the emotion of what Stephen had just said. "As for us being still together, as long as we can agree that Marc will never ever be discussed again, then I think we are." "I agree," said Adele, the tears now streaming down her face, "but can I stay working for you?" "To be honest, I'm not sure about that one," replied Stephen, "I really don't know whether it's sensible to work with one's fiancee." "You mean?" "I know that we've not been together for long but I've never been more certain about what I'm about to ask you," as he got down onto one knee, he added, "Adele, will you marry me?" "Of course I will, my darling!" And as Stephen got to his feet and the two of them locked in a passionate embrace, the cheers from outside were almost deafening. As the happy couple walked back to their desks to the cheers and applause, even Barbara who'd been so direct with Marc only two weeks earlier was smiling; her veiled warning had given no doubt that she knew what was going on but even as she expressed her hope that Stephen wouldn't get hurt, what she was now witnessing was way beyond her wildest expectations. "OK, all of you, the show's over so settle down and get back to work. This is a workplace, not the live final of Love Island!" Dave's voice cut through the applause and people slowly went back to their desks. Turning to Stephen and Adele, he added with a twinkle in his eye "and if you two lovebirds could prize yourself apart and make us some money, it'd be very much appreciated." And as they took their seats at their new desks, Adele looked over at Stephen and said, "I love you, boss!" And, laughing, Stephen replied, "I love you too. Now be a good employee and go and get me a cup of coffee!" ------ Epilogue After such a short courtship, many thought that Stephen & Adele's relationship wouldn't last but they were wrong. With every day that passed, their love for each other deepened and the difficulties they had endured were soon forgotten. Adele continued with her transition; she underwent voice and facial feminisation surgery six months later and full gender reassignment a year after that. They set their wedding date a couple of months after Adele's surgical transition was complete and, as she walked down the aisle in her white dress, she couldn't help smiling; not only was she going to marry the love of her life but, at last, the desire she had felt during her first dance with her then unknown admirer was going to be fulfilled. As the last guests left at the end of the evening and they made their way to the bridal suite they were both breathless with excitement. As they entwined their arms around each other and moved closer together, Adele felt her skin tingle with anticipation. She closed her eyes and let out a gentle moan as, at last, she was able to experience love as a woman. It had been a long wait but it was every bit as wonderful as she'd hoped.