Not Very Nice People - Chapter 4/11: The Bright Side And All That free porn video

NOT VERY NICE PEOPLE by Crazy Baron Chapter 4: The Bright Side And All That Synopsis: Looking forward to (in a manner of speaking) and enjoying (to a limited degree) the quintessential girlish sleepover, Mike Caldwell has an opportunity both to philosophize and to practice his skills at anger management. ***** The rest of Friday passed without anything noteworthy transpiring. After Ellen and Dawn went back home, I spent most of the time reading books in my room until Mom and Kate began to have their customary late evening tea. Even though I had mostly shunned the event in the past, leaving the women to share it between themselves, I broke my habit and joined them this time. Kate thankfully refrained from making sharp and witty comments, and instead we chatted about everyday matters while drinking herbal tea and eating a chocolate chip cookie each. I thought I could sense that the women, and Kate in particular, were half expecting me to bring up my own condition and ask for their advice and support. However, I had already decided to avoid the topic for the time being and steered the conversation away from anything that could potentially have led them into lecturing me on feminine hygiene or catching a boyfriend. I continued to feel the loss of Scott--for that is how I perceived the change in him--very keenly. While Dawn admittedly was a lovely girl and she had expressed unconditional affection for me, I couldn't bring myself to welcome her to my extended family without any reservations. She was essentially a stranger, a very sweet one, but a stranger all the same. What was more, I feared I would some day end up like Scott had, thinking of myself as Buffy Summers first and Michael Caldwell a distant second at best. I might come to enjoy life as Buffy, but was being happy worth it if the cost was my whole personality? I washed up, changed into fresh pajamas and went to bed soon after 11:30. A degree of apprehension lingered in my thoughts: there could be another wet dream in store for me, and although the shock might be milder this time around, I was definitely not looking forward to being treated again to a vivid mental screening of a young heterosexual woman's intimate fantasy. I slid between the sheets, sighed, found a comfortable position and fell gently asleep almost at once. The Buffy body was superior to my own in many respects, not least because I usually slept very well in it and it seemed to have a nearly endless supply of energy when it was absolutely needed. I spent most of the night in a soothing, dreamless sleep that did wonders to refresh me both physically and mentally. However, at some point, as the morning approached, images began to form in my head. I was apparently at a rock concert with Kate and some of my friends and colleagues from work. An unknown (but probably British, I thought) band was playing a tune with a strikingly beautiful melody which was upbeat but curiously melancholic at the same time. Even though I had never heard the song before, there was something distinctly familiar and nostalgic about it, and I turned around to ask Kate if she could remember where we had come across this band before. "They sure could make music in the 90s," I said, only to realize she was no longer anywhere in sight. The band and the concert had also vanished, and I found myself, Jake and a few others at what must have been a prison camp of some kind. We were all standing outside in the yard, facing a high barbed wire fence. "We need to get out of here!" Jake yelled. "Now! Before they catch us!" Someone produced a few long wooden planks and put them against the fence, and a mass of people ran up them and dropped on their feet outside of the compound, including Jake and me. There was a pressing sense of urgency: the guards would come back at any second, so this was our only chance to make good our escape. As often happens in dreams, my legs felt weak and numb and refused to carry me forward as fast as I would have wanted, but somehow we still made headway. After a while, I again realized that most of the others had disappeared and I was alone with Jake. Then, even he was gone. The next moment I was wandering in our garden. It was summer, the sun was shining and the air was warm. I was walking on the grass barefooted, enjoying the weather and the combined scent of the flowers, relieved that the guards had failed to catch me. I also noted that I was a man again and in my own form, as far as I could tell. To my surprise, I saw an unfamiliar brown-haired woman standing near the apple tree with her back turned towards me and decided to approach her. Assuming she was a family friend on a visit, I wanted to say hello to her. As I was getting near her, she suddenly turned around, and with a shock I discovered that I was staring Leslie Simmons, or Faith the Vampire Slayer, in the eye. She had her trademark grin on, signaling that she had been expecting me to come. "Hi, Mikey," she purred. "Long time no see, huh?" "What are you doing here?" I asked her. "Just giving you a little heads-up," she told me. "You'll be making a pretty tough choice in just a couple of days. Better be prepared for that." "What do you mean? What kind of choice?" "You'll see," she chuckled. "Anyway, now that you're duly informed, let's have a little fun!" She reached out for me and tried to grab me by my shirt, and I felt an abrupt rush of fear. The dream ended right there and I opened my eyes. I was not sorely disappointed to wake up as Buffy again. It was not what I had hoped for, but I was prepared for it. I stretched and got out of bed, willfully ignoring the caress of the soft pajamas on my skin and my nether region giving out a tiny warm itch, as if expressing its wish that today might be the day I would finally stop ignoring certain carnal needs of mine. Nonetheless, I had made my decision. There would be no sex, solo or otherwise, for me as a woman in the near future. I went through my morning routine automatically, hardly giving it any conscious attention. The dream was what kept my brain occupied. Leslie's words were not so interesting to me--it was a mere dream, after all--but I had yet again started to wonder who she actually was and whether or not she existed outside of my mind. Larry Simmons, as he was known before his transformation into a Faith duplicate, had been one of my childhood friends. We had graduated high school together, with all the attendant drama due to his coming out as a bisexual a year or two before. However, at the same time, there was no Larry Simmons. He was missing from my high school yearbook and nobody in my family had ever heard of him. Obviously both couldn't be true. To make matters even more confusing, he or she had appeared in my city apartment in the future in her Faith guise and seduced me. The next morning, after a series of cryptic remarks about having a mission to complete, she had thrown the Buffy skinsuit (which I had managed to shed in that timeline) at me; it had rapidly enveloped me, at which point I had blacked out and then woken up in Sunnydale with my "mother" Joyce Summers telling me to get ready for school. Leslie was certainly playing an important part in all this. She had given me to understand that she worked for someone else, perhaps a higher power, and that it was important for me to stay in my Buffy form. When and if I ever saw her again, I would certainly ask her a few questions. This time, I wanted clear and concise answers. My clothing for the day was a variation of yesterday's casual and comfortable outfit. I chose the same black sweat pants, a bright pink tank top and a red-and-white flannel shirt with a tartan pattern. The underwear set was fresh, of course, but otherwise identical to what I had worn the day before. The shirt was borrowed from Kate, who had agreed to lend it to me on the condition that she could later raid my closet and borrow in turn any skirt or dress she would find to her liking. About two hours after breakfast, I developed a craving for orange juice and went downstairs. I had been reading an old war novel in my room until Kate had gone into hers to work out. Even though she had closed the door, her stereo began to blare at such a volume that I gave up on the book. As soon as I was clear of the worst of the noise, my ears picked up two people, definitely women, talking somewhere downstairs, but I didn't think much of it as I assumed they were my mother and one of her friends, chatting in the living room. I didn't want the other woman to see me, so I snuck down the stairs and past the hall, thinking I would be safe in the kitchen. To my surprise and dismay, the women were not in the living room but sitting at the kitchen table, and one of them was Evelyn Ashley, as I found out immediately after entering the room. The rotund matronly figure was no doubt equally surprised to see me; she stopped mid- sentence, turned her head and aimed a piercing glare at me. For my part, I felt my heart trying to climb up my throat during the short but very awkward silence that followed. "Ah," Ashley uttered to me. "I believe we've met, Miss." "Hello, Mrs. Ashley," I greeted her. "Buffy, was it not?" she asked me in a tone that conveyed a mix of haughty propriety and irritation seasoned with a touch of venom. "No!" I blurted out instinctively. "This is... my niece from upstate New York," Mom hurried to introduce me. "She will be staying with us for the holidays." "And what might be your name?" Ashley inquired me. With an evidently considerable effort, she managed to draw her lips into something resembling a smile. "Cindy," I replied. "Oh, I see. In that case, I must have misheard you earlier." "It was a little mix-up, actually," I said and tried to laugh politely. "Buffy is a character I played... I mean, dressed as for our Halloween party." "I trust your younger sister is fine," Ashley continued. "Where is she now, by the way?" "She's right upstairs," Mom jumped in, naturally assuming Ashley had referred to Kate. "She is going to law school next semester, and---" "Law school!?" Ashley exclaimed. "At that age? And with manners like hers? She was blind drunk when I met her on Halloween, and she saw it fit to insult me personally several times! I know she is your daughter and I might hurt your feelings by saying this, Gail, but I consider it my duty to tell you she must be disciplined!" "What?" Mom cried out. "Was Kate drunk?" "Severely intoxicated and out of control!" Ashley reiterated. "Such behavior is completely at odds with everything that is appropriate for a teenage girl, and even more so for a lawyer! Dear heavens, if the people who are trusted with interpreting the law no longer care one iota about common decency, where will that lead us?" "I think we have another misunderstanding," I cut in. "The girl you speak of is Dawn, not Kate. Furthermore, she's not really my sister, just a close friend. We... uh, we have this thing, a kind of running gag where we... pretend that we are related because... because some people think we kind of look alike, she and I." "How interesting," Ashley snorted sarcastically. At that moment, the sound of a large car engine carried from outside. Through the kitchen window, I could see a white van roll to a stop at the end of our driveway. In no time, there was a sharp knock on the front door. I breathed a small, surreptitious sigh of relief as I thought I had been saved from Ashley. "Mike, go and answer that, will you?" Mom told me. She had absentmindedly used my real name, a fact that registered with both of us only a second or two later. As I turned around to head for the door, I briefly noticed Ashley's eyes bugging out of their sockets. I had barely turned the handle and pushed the door open before a booming "Hello!" very nearly ruptured my eardrums. There was a girl courier of some sort at our doorstep, perhaps around the same age as I was biologically in my Buffy body, wearing a brown overcoat and a red baseball cap, with curly blond hair tucked underneath. She had a small button nose, two bright green eyes and chubby cheeks. "So nice to see you!" she yelled at my face in a cheerful and friendly but inordinately loud voice. "Mike Caldwell, right? Boy, you sure do look like Buffy the Vampire Slayer! I bet you have to keep the horny guys away with a stick!" "I don't---" "Aren't Mandy's skinsuits a hoot?" she went on without a perceptible adjustment in volume. "You can just put one on and totally become somebody else! But then again, you already know that!" "Yes, I do, and the whole neighborhood probably does too, now," I confirmed and flashed a strained smile. "Right! So, this is what I came to see you for," she declared and pushed a large brown envelope to my hand. "Here's some stuff for you. A driver's license, a birth certificate, a Social Security card, a high school diploma and other papers you might need." "Thank you." "Don't thank me, thank Mandy!" the girl shouted. "Oh, and don't worry about getting in trouble or anything. The docs are all perfect fakes because they're genuine!" She deemed her own joke so funny that she exploded into horrendous laughter at it. The only way I can attempt to describe the sound would be to imagine someone recording the squeaks of an angry squirrel, slowing the recording down slightly and then playing it out through a large electric guitar amplifier with the volume and the overdrive cranked up. I was sure I would end up with a lifelong tinnitus. "Okey dokey, Buffy," she said finally. "You have a cool life and enjoy! Bye!" With that, she turned around, bounced back to her van, clambered into the driver's seat, waved at me and started the vehicle. True to form, she had the engine roaring at unhealthy revolutions as she backed away and disappeared from view soon thereafter. Evelyn Ashley came into the foyer just as I was about to close the door. In a complete silence, she took her overcoat and pulled it on, her usually stern face frozen in an expressionless state. For once, she was at a total loss of words. Only mumbling something unintelligible to me as she walked past, she exited through the open door and left the house. She walked down the driveway slowly, slightly swaying back and forth on every small step she took. Mom had come to see her out. "Who was that?" she asked. "Some friend of Mandy Elkins, I think," I said and showed her the envelope. "She brought me new IDs and other documents." "Yeah, as a matter of fact I could hear her quite well." "That was one strange individual," I mused. "I feel sorry for her fianc? on their wedding night. Poor guy is bound to need a hearing aid afterwards." I fanned myself with the envelope and continued after a short pause, "I need to apologize for this, Mom. I must have embarrassed you pretty thoroughly in front of Ashley just now." "Don't lose your sleep over it," she said with a small laugh. "I'm not exactly heartbroken over Ashley taking her leave a tad sooner than she planned to. She can be a pain in the butt at the best of times." "What was she here for?" "We talked about a church charity event next month; nothing very interesting. She would like to have me run a stand where I measure people's blood pressure and give them information on cardiovascular diseases and how to prevent them. Another nurse is coming as well." "Okay. I see." "I suppose we have to get used to little incidents like this from here on out," she added. "We need to agree on a story to tell our visitors and distant relations so we can explain you being with us and Mike being away." "What you said to Ashley sounded okay to me, but I recall Kate introduced me as someone from California to the Woodbines. We'll have to include her in our planning." "Of course." Mom went upstairs, probably to see if the laundry hamper had reached the point of flowing over, so I opened the envelope (which was not glued shut) after curiosity finally got the better of me. A brand new driver's license was the first document to slide into my hand. The photo was a perfect shot of a very beautiful young blond woman who had an attractive smile on her face, and it caught my attention in particular. The thought of having it on my license felt weird enough in and of itself, but there was also the fact that I had no memory of ever posing for that picture. For all I knew, it had been taken while someone else was wearing this skinsuit, or maybe it actually was of the actress whose physical copy I had become. The signature was also forged. Amanda Elkins was a friendly and helpful woman, to be sure, but I was less than certain about her ethics. The other information on the license was tailored to match my appearance. My sex was given as female, my height as five feet four and my eyes as green; no restrictions were specified as my eyesight and health in general were now perfect. The date of birth was my own, save for the year, which indicated I was currently 20 years old. The address matched my city apartment. So far so good, I thought and finally laid my eyes on my new full legal name, printed out on the plastic card in large black capital letters next to the head shot: BUFFY CYNTHIA MICHELLE CALDWELL I was not pleased. ***** We had agreed to have the sleepover that day, beginning at about six p.m., or after everyone had arrived. Charlie and Jake had promised to participate, and Dawn had gotten a special dispensation from her mother, evidently after much begging, since she was still grounded. As the clock passed 5:30, Kate and I had a cup of tea and then remained at the kitchen table, waiting for the others. Mom had promised to drive Jake and had gone to get him from his parents' house. "It's not that I want to look a gift horse in the mouth or offend anybody," I began, ending another lull in our relatively sparse conversation, "but it really seems reasonable to me to assume that---" "Is this again about your new name?" Kate interrupted me with a heavy sigh. "We've been over this several times already, at least four or five, even if you only count the discussions that didn't involve anyone going ballistic." "I mean, come on!" I exclaimed. "A name is a pretty big part of your identity. To imagine that they just randomly decided I would be called something so supremely idiotic---" "For the umpteenth time," she said, rolling her eyes, "you refused to pick a female name for yourself. You told me you'd think about it, and when Mandy and I asked you, you had no answer whatsoever. We had to choose something, for heaven's sake!" "But I liked being Michael!" "I bet you did, but that's no longer an option. If you don't like having Buffy or Cindy or Michelle as your name, you've basically got yourself to blame." I fell silent for a while, fully aware that the issue was closed as far as Kate was concerned. I would have liked to vent my disappointment some more, but that risked her getting seriously angry with me, especially in view of what had happened earlier that day. "Kate?" "Yeah?" "Could you tell me, completely honestly and without hiding anything, what the reasoning was behind having me wear a skinsuit for the party?" "We needed a Buffy for the roleplay," she responded. "Simple as that." "I'm still not buying there was nothing more to it." "Oh, you're back to developing that grand conspiracy theory of yours," she chuckled. "Fine. We wanted to see---" "Who's 'we?'" "We, the girls. We wanted to see if we could recruit a couple of new members to our club, and that's actually what we tried, believe it or not. Joanna and I seriously considered you a pledge from the very beginning, seeing as you're into science fiction and fantasy and have a really sharp mind." "But...?" I prompted. "But nothing," came her straightforward reply. "That was it. Well, if you want me to be perfectly up front and bare my soul here, I'll admit that when I first heard of the skins and learned they actually work as advertised, I wanted to have you wear one. A female skin, to be more accurate. Then it was just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to talk or maybe even fool you into one." "What the hell for?" I wondered. "Do you and the other girls get off on turning men into women?" "It's a fun idea," she said and smiled. "Of course, I assumed it would be safe and didn't take into account the possibility that something might go wrong. I thought being a girl for a day or two might open up your mind. I've been able to relate to guys much better ever since I wore a guy skin for the first time, so there's no reason why wearing a girl skin wouldn't do the same for you. I wanted to... Or actually, we wanted... I guess I can't express it more clearly than this. It seemed like a fun thing to do back when we thought of it, that's all." "Castrating your own brother and his friends both in actuality and symbolically--yeah, a guaranteed recipe for fun. Doctor Freud might have a comment or two on that concept." "Who's resorting to psychobabble now?" she teased. "Okay, maybe on a really, really deep level we wanted to take you guys down a notch and cure you of your silly male chauvinism, but the big evil plans to steal your boy parts only exist in your imagination. None of us meant for any of you guys to get stuck in the skins for life." "If you say so," I yielded. "Can I ask you something too, Cindy?" "Sure." "If you hate being a girl so much, how come you never put your foot down and demanded that I let you out of the skin when we were preparing for the party?" "Would you have done that for me?" "Absolutely." "Well," I said. It was my turn to chuckle and try to come up with a meaningful reply. "I wanted to, I certainly did, but I didn't get around to it. I suppose I didn't want to ruin the party and disappoint you." She laughed out loud. "Like I believe that!" "Alright, maybe I also thought you'd somehow talk me back into the suit anyway." "Correct!" she congratulated me with a gleefully mischievous look on her face. "And you naturally loved being Buffy but had to hide it with ridiculously over-the-top bitching and moaning so I wouldn't catch on." "Sure. Like I love it now?" "Absolutely. You can't fool me. The thing is, every guy has a secret wish to be feminine and pretty and soft and..." She made a suggestive gesture with her hands, and for some reason I couldn't help but burst into laughter immediately. Kate followed suit. For a brief while, we were again at ease, relaxed and unable to take anything too seriously. Mom arrived with Jake only a few minutes later. Regardless of what I had been told and what I had experienced over the past week and a half, I still intuitively expected to meet a stout man with a reddish beard and a booming voice. Instead, a demure Willow Rosenberg entered the foyer after my mother. The former Jake was wearing the same faded blue jeans she had worn to the Halloween party, together with a gray sweater, which was probably from Jake's own old wardrobe. The svelte girl was virtually swimming in the comically oversized sweater, she had no makeup on and her red hair was slightly mussed. Nevertheless, or perhaps rather because of all this, she was the embodiment of a specific kind of nerdy and awkward adorableness. "Mr. White, I presume," I greeted her with mock formality after she had peeled off her jacket and put down the plastic bag she was carrying. "Mr. Caldwell," she responded. "Good to see you, Willow!" Kate cut in. She went straight to her and gave her a friendly hug. "Willow", while clearly still unaccustomed to this habit of greeting all of one's friends and maybe not quite entirely comfortable with it, nevertheless hugged her back and smiled. "How are you doing?" "Pretty well," Jake said, "considering the circumstances." "By the way, did you get your new personal docs today?" "Yeah, as a matter of fact I did. A young woman came by and delivered them." "Can you still hear normally?" I asked. "More or less, but the girl must have been one of the loudest human beings I've ever met," Jake said and let out a small laugh. "Mandy employs some pretty strange people if that was her assistant." "So, what name did you choose for yourself?" "Suzanne Willow White, at your service," he said and bowed, with a smirk on his lips. "Suzanne sounds cute," I remarked, "but how come you added Willow to it? I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it, just that I would have thought..." "Some people," Kate said to me pointedly, "are cool with their characters and the character names and don't fly off the handle the second they are mentioned." "Mandy suggested it," Jake explained. "I figured that it would do me no harm and said to her, 'Okay, what the heck,' and that was it. After all, I don't have to go by Willow in everyday life and public. I can be Suzie or something like that if need be." "Suzie," Kate mused, as if tasting the word. "It fits you nicely." "What about you?" Jake asked me. "You won't believe it," I replied with a nervous little giggle and pronounced my new name carefully and slowly, one word at a time, "Buffy Cynthia Michelle." "Huh? You actually picked Buffy to be your first name?" Jake exclaimed, obviously surprised and more than a little amused. "I didn't. Mandy picked it for me, as well as the other names. The woman is nuts! Even though I---" "Let's not go there again!" Kate interrupted me almost angrily. "I've heard that rant way too many times already!" "What will you be using as your primary name? What should I call you?" "'Mike' will do fine," I said. "Before I forget," Kate spoke up, directing her words mainly at me. "Dawn will be here any minute, and that means you've got to behave yourself. The whole purpose of this sleepover is to make her feel better, so the last thing I want is more drama and people getting worked up over nothing. You must be especially nice to her and not make a scene every time she or someone else calls you Buffy. Is that clear?" "Yes," I said. "Crystal." "Dawn likes to use the character names for everybody, so you'll have to go along with it. Don't correct her or tell her that she's delusional or anything. It would only hurt her and ruin the whole party." "Is she actually delusional?" Jake inquired. "No," Kate said emphatically. "She's not. She just sees you guys first and foremost as your characters and is in tune with them. We have to respect that." While Jake's laissez-faire attitude towards the name issue admittedly gave me food for thought, I couldn't help but feel elated. On the whole, he gave the impression of being essentially himself. The way he expressed and carried himself was still there, along with the ineffable, subtle qualities of his presence, although they were now interwoven with the occasional patent Willowism. The old Jake was alive and well despite what he had gone through. Dawn was the next to arrive. The engine of Ellen's car rumbled outside just as Kate was finishing giving her instructions to us, and in a matter of seconds the teen girl opened the door and came into the house. Dawn, dressed in dark sweat pants not unlike mine and a pink hoodie, put a sports bag (presumably containing her pajamas, a change of clothing and the necessary toiletries) down on the floor and went on to greet us: "Hi, guys! So great to see you!" Once more, a round of loving hugs followed. "So your mom relented in the end?" Kate asked her. "Yeah. Took me long enough to turn her head, though. I'm not allowed to go anywhere else, and in the morning I have to head straight back home. And I need to do some chores for her next week. Imagine--all this because I kissed a boy! She's not being fair." "Our mom also put a non-negotiable condition to this party," Kate pointed out. "No alcohol for anyone, not one drop. She was adamant about it." "But we do have some available, don't we?" Jake asked hopefully. "No. I'm holding our end of the bargain." Jake's beautiful face fell at once, but Dawn was untroubled. "Only losers drink alcohol, anyway," she remarked cheerily. Promptly after this, we could hear another car pull up in front of our house. It was almost as though Ellen had turned around and decided to come back, but the engine stopped a few seconds later and then a car door closed with a clunk. That had to be Charlie and his trusty old Honda, I figured and felt an abrupt wave of apprehension. I hadn't seen him since Jake and I had left the Benton house on Halloween night looking for Scott and therefore didn't know what to expect. I was aware he had gotten stuck, like the rest of us, in his Cordelia Chase skin, and Mandy had made a house call to him; other than that, I simply had no idea what had become of him in the meantime. I had meant to call him several times, but somehow my preoccupation with my own condition had always made me forget or postpone it. This gave rise for a slight pang of guilt to be added to the surging emotions I was going through. A series of crisp footsteps moved across the porch, and then there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for anyone to answer, the visitor turned the handle, pulled the door open and walked into the foyer. My eyes widened at the sight, and suddenly the familiar, harrowing empty feeling, which often accompanied a bitter disappointment or an unpleasant surprise for me, returned once more and burned in my chest. The woman who had entered our house was a stunning brunette, with her hair now mildly curled (after a perm, no doubt) and a fair amount of makeup on. After taking off her beige overcoat, I could see she had on a pair of black or very dark brown trousers, a tube top of nearly the same color, a crimson button-down blouse with the sleeves rolled up, and, as the icing on the cake, three-inch heels on her feet. She had even added a silver necklace to the outfit, with the result that she was ridiculously overdressed for a sleepover. The only item not entirely in line with her elegance was a sports bag similar to Dawn's, but she immediately freed herself of it, lifting its strap off her shoulder and putting the bag down next to the coat rack. It was with severe difficulty that I managed to hold my tongue and keep myself from blurting out something grossly inappropriate. "Wow, look at you!" Kate complimented her. "You're a knockout, Cordy!" "Oh, thanks!" she said, flashing us a smile that showcased her shining white teeth. She went on to share a hug with Kate first and then Dawn. "I thought I'd put something nice on, even though we're not going out tonight." "'Nice' is the understatement of the decade," Kate said. "Hey, twirl for us!" "Okay," she chuckled and did as my sister had asked, spun effortlessly around in the middle of the foyer floor. What was even more amazing than her looks was the ease with which Charlie moved in the heels. They were not excessively tall but would have definitely made my life a nightmare of teetering back and forth if I had been forced to wear them. In contrast, Charlie walked in them just as well as the average natural born woman, if not better. "Fantastic!" Kate gushed in genuine enthusiasm. "I'm in awe! I know a couple of girls who could take lessons from you." "You look fabulous," Dawn joined in the admiration. "Can I borrow some of your stuff later on?" "Let's not jump ahead of things, okay?" Charlie replied. "But if you promise to take good care of whatever you get and show me you can wear it properly, then maybe we can work out a deal." As far as I could tell, the Cordelia impersonation was nigh on flawless, down to the facial expression and the tone of voice. "I can't wait!" Dawn exclaimed, her eyes shining. She showed her excitement by lifting her shoulders slightly and simultaneously swaying a little on her feet, a mannerism Scott had never exhibited. "Evening, guys," Charlie said to Jake and me. "How are things with you?" "We're getting by," Jake uttered. "Not exactly jumping for joy here," I added, "but chances are we'll live." There followed an intensely awkward moment as Charlie on one side and Jake and myself on the other tried to figure out whether or not we should hug each other, a gesture that had been out of the question between us before our transformations, perhaps apart from the times when alcohol had done away with most of our inhibitions. Charlie even began to lift his arms but then realized Jake and I weren't going to move, and after this false start, we contented ourselves with exchanging decorous smiles. The tiny episode was an excellent summary of our situation: tragedy, comedy, uneasiness and stupidity combined in equal parts. "We have another satisfied owner of a brand new driver's license here, am I right?" Kate spoke up. "Oh, yeah," Charlie said. "I got mine today and went for a short drive around the county just for the fun of it. It's a tremendous relief to know you've got your legal documents in order again and can prove you exist! Come Monday, I'll be going to the city and hitting the clothing stores." "I'd say you've got the bare necessities taken care of, as far as your wardrobe is concerned." "Yes, thanks to Mandy, but I think I'd still like to have a bit more breadth to it, especially when it comes to footwear. Most of the stuff is great for summer, but I'm going to need a few pairs of nice warm boots, as well as overcoats and things like that." Another unpleasant fact was being hammered home. While he probably had yet to reach the point of nearly fully identifying with his character in the manner Scott and Larry did, Charles McGee had little in common with the charming woman who had come to pay us a visit, apart from the initial of his first name. "I'm getting a license too," Dawn pointed out. "It's just that I have to wait until next spring, which kind of sucks, but I guess I can survive until then. Barely." "You've got your sisters drive you," Charlie reminded her. "And me, if you ask politely." "And Buffy, and me too," Kate added. "In other words, that's Cordy and all four of my sisters," Dawn said and let out a little girlish laugh. "Life's getting better and better." It was only then that I was hit by a realization. Mandy had managed to produce the purportedly genuine documents amazingly quickly, in a matter of days. She either had a way of manufacturing them herself, or the papers had been sitting in her drawer complete with names, birth dates, pictures and everything else, waiting for this day. I was about to start pondering this issue in earnest and maybe ask the others for their views and theories when Kate managed to distract me. "Curiously enough," she commented with a smirk, "not everyone was so glad to get their docs." "What do you mean?" Dawn asked her. "Why would anyone not want a license?" "The problem there was the name on the card, not the card itself," she explained. "Our Chosen One screeched like a banshee when she saw her new full name written down. Mom and I thought she had had an epileptic seizure or something and ran downstairs to see what was going on." Charlie and Dawn laughed at this, together with Kate herself, and even Jake couldn't help but crack a smile. I bit my lip and tried to act nonchalant about the incident even though I was anything but over it. "Don't exaggerate," I told my sister with a feigned chuckle. "I was a little upset and disappointed, true, but---" "A little upset? Heck, until today I always thought that 'biting the carpet' is just a figure of speech!" This, mainly because of the way Kate told the story, drew a fresh round of laughter from the others. "At least you didn't smash furniture or anything, so we have that to be thankful for," she added. "I didn't bite a carpet!" I pointed out indignantly. "Right, fine, you didn't, literally speaking. But you damn nearly bit me when I tried to reason with you. Kind of ironic, when you think about it; someone who's supposed to dust vampires---" "Hey!" "Just kidding, Buffy," she said and gave my shoulder a friendly squeeze. "Take it easy, will you? I was just teasing you. We're going to have fun here!" As the hostess, Kate took charge of the matters from that moment on. Underscoring to us that the proper attire for a sleepover was, logically, sleepwear, she told us to change in the upstairs bathroom. As we valued our privacy and went in one at a time, this became a rather lengthy operation, especially after Dawn also decided to brush her hair. Charlie went to the living room to say hello to Mom while he waited for his turn. Eventually, however, we were ready. I had Kate's old silk pajamas on, she was wearing a similar set of her own, and Dawn was dressed in an off-white nightshirt and pants with tiny printed blue tree leaves--a reasonably good match for what I recalled the character had worn on the show during her early appearances. The opposite ends of the style spectrum were again occupied by Jake and Charlie: the former had brought and donned a worn out cotton pajama set with vertical stripes (also from his old wardrobe if the very loose fit and the rolled up sleeves and trouser legs were any indication), while the latter sported a light gray full slip, complemented by a purple robe. Kate had had me and Mom help her reorganize her room earlier that day. We had carried her bed out of her room to the upstairs hallway to free up floor space, and had placed a collection of mattresses with blankets and pillows on the floor. The small stand that supported her old but still completely serviceable TV set and DVD player, normally situated near the window, had been moved in front of the wall that separated her room from mine. She had considered but finally decided against putting the set on the floor where it would be level with its audience; that would have allowed us to watch it more comfortably, without having to crane our necks, but Kate thought it best not to disturb the connections. There was a hefty amount of dust-covered cabling, some of which seemed to serve no purpose whatsoever, but when I volunteered to pull out everything that was probably not needed, she told me in no uncertain terms she didn't want to take any chances. "It works as is, and that's what's important," she had said. "Don't mess with it!" I was happy to comply. "Welcome to my boudoir," Kate told us cheerily. "There's popcorn, potato chips and some soda. Let your hair down and make yourselves at home, girls! No need to worry about social pressures here." "Don't mind if we do," Jake responded in a contented tone and sat down on one of the mattresses. I followed suit, as did Charlie, and finally Dawn laid down on her side, propping herself with a pillow under her armpit. She made sure to position herself strategically close to the refreshments. "So, what's next on the agenda?" I queried. "Do we start gossiping about boys?" "If that's what you want to do," Kate said. "Slumber parties usually don't have lists of action items laid out beforehand. You basically just hang out with your friends and talk. However, I did get some entertainment for us in case you guys are interested." "Oh, a movie?" Charlie perked up. "Sounds good to me." "Yep. I was originally considering a romantic comedy but had trouble deciding which one." Jake and I exchanged looks and smiles. "You should have asked me and Mike," my friend piped up. "We know plenty of good ones and can provide you with plot summaries and amusing lines from them to boot, such as... 'I will motivate you, Private Pyle, if it short-dicks every cannibal on the Congo!'" Though the quote admittedly lost a good deal of its original punch when recited in Willow's gentle voice, it was fun all the same. "'Anyone who runs is a VC,'" I added. "'Anyone who stands still--is a well-disciplined VC!'" "The bit with the door gunner is priceless!" Jake said. "We really need to watch that movie again soon." "Agreed," I grinned. "That joke's getting a little old, guys," my sister commented. "Well, what did you get for us?" I asked her. "This," she said, took two DVD boxes from the TV stand and showed them to us. "Sex and the City, the complete first and second season." "God! Please, no!" Jake exclaimed in anguish. Dawn rolled her eyes at his reaction. "How very predictable of you," Kate remarked. "Believe it or not, this is quality stuff as a TV show, and I'm positive you'll love it once you get over your prejudice. I didn't pick it only because it's like a stereotypical thing for women to enjoy and I want to feminize you even further with it, or something else in that vein. Fact of the matter is, men absolutely should watch it too in my opinion. It would help them to understand us women and the way we think." "But it's total fiction," I argued, "and the people in it are only made-up characters. I'm not saying it can't possibly teach you anything about real life, but insisting you can learn actual social skills from TV is pretty preposterous. Come to think of it, that reminds me of this kook I used to know at the University. He honestly thought he could commit the perfect murder simply because he was a huge fan of CSI and watched it religiously." "Did he do it?" Jake asked. "Do what?" "Did he actually try to murder someone?" "No. The fellow only meant he could do it in theory, fortunately enough, and he was at any rate all talk and no action for the most part. The cringe factor went through the roof whenever he opened his mouth, though." "That's not what I'm getting at here," Kate countered my argument. "Of course it is fiction, and the characters are exaggerations, but it hits the nail on the head in plenty of ways. The bottom line here is that your objections are overruled." "Let's watch it," Dawn agreed readily. "It sure beats a gloomy and bloody war movie hands down, any day." I noted with a passing twinge of dismay that Scott, the old Scott, would have held the exact opposite opinion. "What do you say, Cordy?" "Fine by me," Charlie voiced his approval and shrugged. "Buffy?" "You folks are going to vote me down anyway," I said, "so I might as well surrender." "Excellent logic. That leaves you, Wills, but I must warn you that the outcome isn't looking good from your point of view." "I'm not surprised," Jake sighed. "Okay. Have it your way." "Great! Here we go!" Kate said and turned the TV and the player on. "I thought we could jump around a little and pick just a few of the best episodes, but if you'd rather start at the beginning and see them in order, that's perfectly doable as well, at least until we get too tired to stay awake anymore." The DVD began playing, and so my first sleepover as a girl got underway. To be frank, I could have effortlessly named thirty movies or TV shows I would have preferred, two Joss Whedon shows among them. Nevertheless, it was probably smart not to make a fuss over such a trivial detail. Kate's intention was at any rate admirable, to give us an opportunity to strengthen and renew our friendship in the wake of our transformations, so the least I could do was compromise and go along. Dawn, whose benefit had been an important consideration for Kate in organizing the party to begin with, made an apropos remark on a somewhat related subject before long. "Maybe you've already noticed," she said, digging into the popcorn bowl, "but a funny thing is happening to me. Over the past week I've gotten really fond of hugs, pats on the head and being called Dawnie; you know, shows of affection. It's like I need them constantly and I feel so warm and happy and loved whenever someone is kind to me. I don't know what's up with that." "It's only natural," Kate remarked. "Everybody wants to be loved." "Yeah, I know, and I've always had a caring family--or Scott did, actually, but they're my family too. Anyway, it's strange how starved I am of that stuff now. I'm almost addicted to it. At times I feel as if I had been totally abandoned in some dark place for years and then finally rescued." "Could it be that you were trapped inside of Scott and waiting to be let out?" Charlie theorized. "Maybe," Dawn admitted, "but Scott was never really unhappy as a man, or because he was a man, so it could be something else." The third person forms in reference to Scott stung me, but I kept my thoughts to myself for fear that there could be another unseemly scene if I spoke up. "Regardless," Kate said, "I promise to give you all the hugs you want." "I'd love that. The thing is, it's not about sex or sexuality for me. I just need to be, like, close to someone and to be touched." Her lips curved in a mischievous and naughty little grin as she added, "Although I've got to admit I wouldn't complain if a cute boy called me pet names and... touched me." Kate sat up and enthused, "Now you're talking! Any specific scenario in mind?" "You mean like a fantasy? Yeah, I've got a few," Dawn said, sitting up as well. "Okay, picture this. I'm lying on my bed, doing homework, when my boyfriend comes into my room. He's neatly dressed and has some aftershave on. He---" "Aftershave?" Charlie interjected. "Aren't men who need to use that a little old for you?" "Hey, it's my dream and I get to have any guy I want in it!" Dawn defended herself. "So, anyway, he comes up to me and asks if I'm doing okay. I say I am but tell him my neck and back are kinda stiff from all the reading, so he starts to rub them gently. He says I've got a lovely scent and he sniffs my hair. Then he gives a little kiss on my cheek, and I kiss him back. They're tender and sweet kisses, nothing really steamy just yet, though we're getting there. He's attentive and dependable and totally into me but actually a bit shy around girls in a cute way, so I have to make the next move. I surprise him, grab him by his shirt and pull him---" I was far from keen to learn any more details of Dawn's favorite sex fantasy, and apparently so was Jake. He hurried to make a gallant last attempt to derail the conversation: "Mike, remember when we talked about why the B-29 was not deployed to the European Theater during World War Two?" "Sure!" He didn't have to ask me twice to join in his little scheme. "I always thought it had to do with the plane having a tricycle landing gear that doesn't go well with rough runway surfaces." "Yeah, that played a big part, and also logistics and the problems in having a huge number of bomb groups transition to a completely new type of plane, but I just read they were concerned about the magnesium alloy crankcases of the engines catching fire if the planes were operated---" "Nice try," Kate quipped dryly. "Too bad it won't work." "Aren't we allowed to talk about things that interest us?" Jake protested in a meek manner. "When it comes to you and Buffy, the answer is basically no. Let me introduce to evidence the party at Mike's city apartment when we were supposed to play board games and instead you talked for two freaking hours about fire control systems of battleships. I bet you remember. I rest my case, ladies and gent--- ladies." "Actually," Jake pointed out, "if I'm not mistaken, it was more about armor and old time naval tactics in general than just---" "In my opinion," I argued, "that's hell of a lot more interesting than watching four fictional sluts slurp latte and compare their notes on oral sex. Then again, I've only been a woman for something like ten days, so maybe I simply haven't yet come to appreciate all sorts of stupid crap, such as... Ow!" Kate had aimed a gentle but effective slap with the palm of her hand to the back of my head, and as it hit home, I got her message and shut my mouth. "Oh, by the way," Dawn spoke up again. "That reminds me. Kate, do you still have the issue of Cosmo with the article on giving good blowjobs?" "Sure, it's in my stash," she said, utterly unfazed. "You can borrow it if you want." "Getting a head start on learning how to please men, are we?" Charlie chimed in. Dawn couldn't help but blush a little. "Actually, there were some makeup tips that I wanted to check out," she explained. "On the other hand, I guess it never hurts to know a thing or two about sex before you're in bed with someone. Boys love blowjobs, after all." Jake squirmed and cast a helpless, pleading look in my direction, which did not go unnoticed by Kate. "You two seem kind of uncomfortable," my sister remarked with a sly grin, aiming the comment at me and Jake. "I wasn't expecting this," Jake said. "I thought teen girls were... I don't know, more chaste than this." "Oh boy!" Kate exclaimed and erupted in laughter. It took her a while to regain enough of her composure to go on, "Chaste! That's rich! You guys can't even imagine how badly you're mistaken if you honestly believe girls our age just gush over clothes and flowers and puppies at their sleepovers!" "I guess they don't," I said. "You bet they don't! You really should have been at some of the slumber parties me and my friends used to have. Ever since we turned fifteen, or around that time, Maryann would always give these male anatomy lectures of hers, as we called them. They were pretty juicy stuff by any standard, and she made sure you got all the gory details--and I mean all. If what we're talking about here is making you so uneasy, your ears would be burning up if Maryann was here now! Girls share." "Speaking of sharing," Charlie spoke up, "do you have any particular guy in your sights already, Dawn, or are you only planning forward?" A knowing smile spread on Dawn's lips straight away. "Alright, what's his name?" Kate demanded, eager to get the information. "Out with it!" "Brett," Dawn said. "We met at the Chesterton Mall on Wednesday when my mom drove me there. Long story short, I saw him sitting on one of the benches and I went and basically chatted him up. We totally hit it off, talked a little, and he bought us some ice cream. Things were going great and we had actually gotten to the kissing part when disaster struck." "What happened?" Charlie asked. "Mom came and saw us just as he was nuzzling my neck a bit. She exploded on the spot, as if I was some little girl who doesn't know you shouldn't take candy from strangers. God, it was so embarrassing! I told her she could, like, get it over with and kill me because I was dying of shame anyway, and the next thing I know I'm grounded for two weeks." "I'm sorry for you," Kate said. "Did you get his number?" "That's the problem. I didn't, and I can't remember his last name, if it even came up. Now there's nothing I can do but hope I'll run into him a second time after my prison term ends or that he somehow manages to look me up." She sighed dramatically. "Don't worry about that, Dawnie. You'll find him again, and even if you don't, there's plenty of other fish in the sea. You're bound to get a boyfriend in no time once you start getting out and about. Heck, I bet you'll be able to pick and choose out of dozens." Dawn brightened up once more at this. Then it was Charlie's turn to reveal tidbits of his sexuality: "I've been doing some reevaluation here. Back when I was a guy, I was completely straight and used to think it would be disgusting to kiss a man for real, to say nothing of going further than that, but I'm starting to come around. There's no question of what my body wants." "We women have needs," Dawn declared proudly. "It's a fact of life." "To be honest, I've already learned how to take care of those by myself," he confessed and flashed us an uncharacteristically shy smile. "Or some of them, at least." "Do you have any fun toys available?" Kate asked him and winked. This prompted a giggle from Dawn and a desire to plug my ears from me. "Let's just say my sister's been kind enough to let me use some of hers. Still, they're only a substitute for the real thing, so..." "Sounds like you are in the market for some prime male meat, I gather," Kate said and grinned, going on to add, "Assuming, of course, that your orientation's the same as mine and Dawn's. Which way are you swinging?" "Now that you mentioned it, I had a realization when I was watching a chick flick with my sister the other day. I don't even remember its name or what it was about, aside from the usual stuff about two lovers going through tough times and getting each other at the end. It wasn't even a very good film, but that's not my point. Anyhow, we were watching it, and as the guy and the girl were standing out in a field and he leaned in to kiss her, it kind of hit me. I suddenly wanted to be the girl and not the guy. I wanted someone to sweep me off my feet and kiss me like that, and then make love to me. Although I had once or twice dreamed about... you know, being with a man after I got lured into the Cordelia suit, my eyes opened after that experience." "How did it make you feel?" my sister asked him. "Was it natural for you, or did you have misgivings about it?" "It came pretty naturally. It's not like I can simply decide I'm attracted to women or men. I have to go with whatever feels right." "I'm so happy for you," Kate said to Charlie and Dawn. "Actually, I'm proud of you. You accept the person you have become and you are cool with the changes in your sexuality that come with the changes in your bodies. It's a healthy way of dealing with this. You move on and see the whole transformation and getting stuck as the beginning of a new life instead of just the end of the old." "What else can we do?" Dawn asked rhetorically. "It would make no sense just to curl up and cry your days away. We're not going to be men again, and I for one wouldn't even want to go back. I'm much happier as Dawn than I ever was as Scott!" "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade," Charlie quipped. "That's how I see it, in a nutshell." "Buffy begs to differ, methinks," Kate observed in an effort to make me participate in the conversation. "I'm not qualified to comment on the psychology," I said, "and I'm not quite sure you are either, Kate. Other than that--good for you, fellows. Whatever floats your boat, I reckon." My words were met with curious looks, and it quickly dawned on me that I had perhaps sounded colder and harsher than I had intended to. "You could show your friends some more support," Kate admonished me. "No, I really meant it. I'm sincerely glad you're doing fine and I wish you all the best as girls. I'm not thrilled to be one, though, but that's entirely my problem." "On the subject of floating boats," Dawn piped up, "what's your thing, Buffy?" "Yeah," Charlie accompanied her. "You haven't shared much of anything with us yet." I began to answer, but Kate was faster than me and she cut me off with, "She is a founding member of a new minority, deeply closeted heterosexual women. I have good reason to believe she's just as hungry for dick as the rest of us, if you pardon my French." "Yay!" Dawn exclaimed in jubilation. "No, definitely not 'yay,'" Charlie retorted. "That only spells more competition for me over the scarce resources of hot eligible bachelors!" "Here's one person you don't need to worry about," Jake said. "I'm not hungry for male appendages of any kind, but, instead, I retain an appreciation for the allure of the female body. Oh, a-and I might also add that I'm as much my old self as ever. Maybe some people with these skinsuit-y experiences change less than others." This line was delivered with a certain amount of satisfaction, if not smugness, and it was made all the more annoying and hilarious by the fact that he sounded precisely like Willow Rosenberg. The intonation, the pronunciation and the short pauses fell faultlessly in place, and he even got the slightly awkward demeanor and facial expressions right. Alyson Hannigan herself might have been hard pressed to do a better impromptu interpretation of her TV character. "Correct me if I'm wrong," Charlie responded to this, channeling Cordelia in his turn, "but isn't Willow supposed to be a lesbian? So if you're still attracted to girls, this proves--what exactly?" Jake didn't fail to grasp the implications. His smile disappeared and turned upside down in an instant. As no one else had anything important to add, we spent the next five minutes silently in the company of the four Manhattan ladies as they attended a baby shower and had drinks afterwards. "We could watch a porn movie next time," Kate mused with pretend seriousness and an impish glint in her eye. "Might help some people get over their pathological inhibitions. Truth be told, I did consider renting a hardcore flick for tonight." "Why didn't you get one?" Dawn asked and grabbed some popcorn. "Pity for our poor little Buffy, and not wanting to have the bathroom constantly occupied." "Excuse me," I said, getting up on my feet. "I need to use the commode now, in fact." "The vibrator's in the bottom drawer," Kate advised in a deadpan manner. Dawn and Charlie rewarded her with giggles. "To urinate, if you must know," I specified. "I'll come too," Jake said and got up as well. "So you've already taken to heart that 'girls go in pairs' thing, have you?" I needled him. "Or is it that you don't have faith in my ability to clean up?" "Very funny," he retorted. "You're slaying me." "Don't be long, guys," Kate told us without taking her eyes off the screen. "The one where Carrie farts in bed with Big is coming up! It's a riot!" "Wouldn't want to miss that one for the world," Jake snorted. I made a beeline for the upstairs bathroom, with Jake following right on my heels. If his intention had been not to let the others in on the fact that he had something important on his mind, he was doing a poor job, I thought as I closed the door behind us. "Turn the water on," he said. "You know, I usually wash my hands after, not before," I commented. "I don't want them to overhear us," he explained with an anxious look on his face. "Please, just turn it on." I complied, turning the faucet on so a moderate amount of water was coming out of it into the sink. That was enough to make a distraction for any potential eavesdropper; and another motivation not to have the sink overflow were my father's customary homilies about the importance of saving water and electricity that kept ringing in my ears whenever I visited my parents' house. "Right," I said. "What's with the cloak and dagger?" "I've got something interesting to tell you," he began, lowering his voice so that I could barely make out his words even with my new excellent hearing. "I have been doing research and asking around on a couple of online forums, extremely discreetly, I might add. I don't want to get our hopes up for no reason, and this is still mostly unconfirmed, but I may have found a person who has an antidote." "An antidote? For what?" "For transforming skinsuit symbionts that won't let their wearers go free," he said--and from that second on, he had no trouble keeping my attention. "What's it like?" I inquired quickly. "Who is this person, and where does he or she live?" "I'm not sure," he admitted, "but I'm under the impression that the antidote is a liquid you either drink or rub on your skin, a little like Mandy's potions. Once it starts to have an effect, the skinsuit opens up and you can get out. The woman who has it in her possession lives around 140 miles from here, across the state line, and if we want the antidote, we have to go see her and get it ourselves." "What does she want in return?" "Nothing, if I understood her correctly." "That sounds too good to be true. How do you know this person is trustworthy?" "I don't. We just have to find out for ourselves, I guess. So far she has come across as sincere to me." "And you realize, of course, that according to Mandy there is no way to remove the skins anymore?" "That's what she keeps saying," Jake conceded and shrugged his shoulders, "but do we know she's being honest? She's been really enthusiastic to suggest we stay this way and has provided us with clothes and new IDs and all that, but whenever taking the skins off instead came up, she either got evasive and vague or tried to scare us with horror stories of what might happen to us if we attempted anything. I'm not saying she's been outright lying to us, but there might well be options she's not willing to inform us about." "You could be onto something, Jake." "Whichever way you look at it, this antidote is pretty much our only hope. Are you in?" "Absolutely. What's the plan?" "In the near future, some time next week, we drive to her hometown and meet with her. If she seems legit, we take the antidote and bring it home. From what she told me online, there should be plenty for two people, or barely enough for three." "You, me and Charlie." "Exactly, although I'm beginning to wonder if Chuck will be wanting any. He's a little too comfortable as Cordelia, if you ask me." I had nothing to add to his observation, and as Jake had gotten his information across to me, he returned to Kate's room while I relieved myself in private. We had not missed much, I deduced when I rejoined the others a short while later. Kate, Dawn and Charlie were still engrossed in the exploits of Carrie Bradshaw and her friends, eating popcorn and chatting about this and that. Jake, bravely feigning a small degree of interest in the show, would offer an occasional comment or short reply to whatever the others were saying or asking him. After two more episodes, I was fed up with the entertainment and began to search for a graceful way out. Judging by how the show held the girls' interest, simply complaining and suggesting we do something else instead would most likely not have gone over very well. In the end, all I could come up with was this: "I'll pop downstairs and have a quick word with Mom." "If you're going," Kate said without taking her eyes off the screen, "take the popcorn bowl with you. It's empty." "Do you want more?" I asked as I picked it up. "No, I think we're good," Dawn answered, accompanied by similar replies from Jake and Charlie. As I was exiting the room, I briefly looked at Dawn over my shoulder. If none of us had ever heard of the skinsuits, Scott would have at this point been jumping and dancing half naked around the room with the stereo blasting. Jake, Charlie and I would have been nearly equally drunk and joined him in singing along how Sally can wait or what some might say. I padded down the stairs and to the kitchen with the popcorn bowl in my hand, put it on the counter and sat down at the table with a heavy sigh. It was a relief to be away from the atmosphere prevailing in Kate's room for a while. Mom came into the room right away. She was wearing pajamas herself, getting ready to go to bed. "So, Mike," she inquired with a smile, "what are your impressions of this sleepover thing so far?" I smiled back, but my expression was sarcastic and also far more tired than hers. "Pure torture." "Oh? Why is that?" "I think it could be tolerable and even fun if we didn't have to binge watch Sex and the City," I said. "Too girly for me." "My condolences," she said with a chuckle. She took a seat next to me. "How are the others doing?" "What do you mean? Overall or as of this moment?" "Both." "Jake is pretty much like me," I told her. "He doesn't want to stay a girl if he can help it, and he is not very keen on any of that stuff. Scott is by and large loving every second of it, as you've seen, and Charlie..." "Yes?" she prompted me. "What about Charlie?" "I fear he's turning out like Scott. He came here almost dressed to the nines, with lots of makeup and high heels on his feet, as you saw for yourself. He was still himself, my old friend Charles McGee, at the party--the wisecracking Chuck I know and love. But now... It's bad enough that I lost Scott; do I have to lose Charlie as well?" "If you want to hear my thoughts on this," Mom said after a short pause, "I'd try to look on the bright side. I'm not claiming there hasn't been a huge change in Scott's personality, and maybe Charlie is going through one too, and that will certainly be difficult for us to accept and get used to. Anyway, they seem perfectly happy and fulfilled to me. When you really think about it, isn't that what counts? Besides, if I have gotten this right, they will always be the same people underneath." "I don't know if it works that way, Mom. They certainly don't act or sound the same, and Scott has outright rejected his old identity." "But when you think about it, people change all the time. It's usually nowhere near this drastic, naturally, but if you really stop and think, you realize you were not exactly the same when you were five and when you were ten, or twenty, or twenty-five. You had different ideas and thoughts and you looked different. Even so, you're always my son Michael. You still are, by the way, even in that form." "We could wax philosophical here," I said. "This is sort of like asking if you can step into a river twice. It may be the same place, but the water flowing in it is different." "That's one way of thinking about it," she conceded. "Or the ship of Theseus. Do you know that one, Mom?" "Offhand, I have to admit I don't," she laughed, "but I guess one thing is now proven beyond any doubt. You are still you, Mike." "Yeah, I must be," I agreed and smiled again. "After all, if I was a chick through and through, I'd only be raving about Carrie Whatshername shopping for shoes and farting in bed." "Let's keep in mind that women are intelligent too, mister," she said with (partially mock) seriousness. "Sure, Mom. I didn't mean it like that." "I know. And I want you to remember what I just said. You'll forever be my boy and I'll love you, come what may." She stood up and patted me gently on the back. She had always had a positively magical way of making me feel better, and that night was no exception. I made my way back to Kate's room, once more prepared to play along. This wasn't so bad, I told myself. I was with my friends and in the safety of our house, not out there in Fantasyland facing literal demons. The TV had been turned off in the meantime, and the group, sitting on the mattresses and gathered in a circle, was engaged in a lively discussion. "...is nothing but a no-brainer for me," Jake was declaring. "I'd still wish for my old body." "Can't you think of anything else?" Charlie berated him. "Jeez! You could have a nine-digit sum on your bank account, your own spaceship, or a loving spouse and a family, and you'd still put your scruffy beard and your big belly first!" "Don't insult the beard!" Jake retorted. "I'll have you know it was an integral part of my identity and the result of years of loving care." "What are you folks talking about?" I inquired as I sat down in the company of the others. "Wishes," Kate said. "If you could have one wish, what would it be?" "Don't you normally get three?" "Not anymore. The genies have had to downsize recently." "So, what would you wish for, Buffy?" Dawn quizzed me. "Isn't that kind of obvious by now? My male form back, of course." "Not you too," Charlie sighed in frustration. "Okay," Kate said, "what if it's excluded? You can wish for anything but that." "Then I'd wish for three wishes, and my first wish would be for the transformation reversal to be allowed." "Smartass!" Dawn groaned. "That's cheating!" "Suppose that's forbidden as well," Kate postulated. "One wish, and you're not getting to be a guy again." "Uh, you're making it difficult," I said. "It depends. Can you be granted abstractions, like world peace? I wouldn't necessarily want just that, but for the sake of argument---" "I know what mine would be," Dawn jumped in. "I'd wish for long, happy lives for every one of us and also for us to stay friends forever. I love you guys very much, so that's my fondest wish." "You're so sweet!" Kate commented. "And if there was a way for anyone to return to being a guy, like another potion or something, I'd wish for it to be destroyed." I was taken aback by Dawn's words, to put it mildly; 'shocked' might not have been much of an exaggeration. Up until that point, she had never overtly confessed that she would actively try to stop me, Jake or Charlie from regaining our old bodies. That revelation in and of itself was enough to make me queasy, and there also was the possibility that, notwithstanding our precautions, she had overheard Jake and me discuss the skinsuit antidote. "Dawn," I addressed her after getting my troubling thoughts under a measure of control, "why would you do that? It would be pretty evil of you if we wanted to change back and actually could." "Look, I don't mean any harm," she explained herself. "It's just that I feel this really special bond with you the way you are now. I don't want to give that up, ever." "We could have a bond even if some of us transformed back." "Yes, of course, but it wouldn't be the same." "I have to agree with you, Dawn," Charlie said. "In a sense, every one of us is two people in one body. If I could take this suit off, I'd be cutting off half of myself, and if one of you did that, I'd lose a friend." "Luckily, that's not an option anymore," Dawn commented. "I get to keep all of you forever!" "I think this calls for a group hug," Kate said with a wide smile, "even though it may cramp Cordy's style." "Maybe I'll go along, just this once," Charlie chuckled. ***** "Alright, lights out," Kate announced and flipped the switch. The room went dark, aside from the faint greenish glow of the plastic fluorescent wall stickers with which she had decorated the ceiling when she was half her current age. She stepped over Jake's legs, careful not to trample on anyone, and then sat down on the mattress between Charlie and me. In no time, she was resting comfortably with her head on her pillow and the blanket drawn up to her chin. It was well past midnight, and we all had washed up, brushed our teeth and settled down to sleep. "Good night, guys," she said. "Night," Charlie replied, with Dawn and Jake following suit. "Good night," I said for my part. I lay on my back and let my eyes wander across the ceiling, imagining that it was the sky and the stickers were real stars. Of course, it would have been much too cold to sleep like this outdoors, but just then I would have welcomed being able to see for light years and sense the majestic but calming vastness of space above me. I needed a moment like that for myself, preferably on the next night with no clouds. Dawn shifted under her blanket, moved her legs and then turned on her side so that she was facing me. I could feel her eyes on me. She swallowed audibly and asked in a very quiet voice, "Buffy?" Telling her not to call me that would have been useless or worse, so I simply responded, "What is it?" "Can I come a little closer?" "Why not. There's plenty of room here to go around." To my surprise, she crawled under my blanket and cuddled up to me, pressing herself tenderly against my side. She put her head on my shoulder and sighed contently. Her soft baby skin shared some of its warmth with mine. "Hey," I whispered to her. "No funny stuff, okay?" "Of course not," she whispered back. "You're my sister." "I was being serious. No funny stuff." "The only funny stuff in this room is you," she said with her eyes closed. After hesitating for a while, I carefully extracted my arm from underneath her and put it around her shoulders. She moved again slightly and then settled down. In less than a minute, the rhythm of her breathing slowed; she had fallen into a peaceful sleep. I smiled inwardly at her and myself and in the next second realized that my eyelids were heavy. I allowed them to close, gladly giving in to the temptation of shutting the world out for a few hours. Before my conscious thoughts could dissolve altogether, I experienced something of an epiphany. The extraordinary idea surfaced in my mind like a flash of lightning: I had every chance of achieving the same kind of acceptance and happiness Dawn enjoyed. I could be balanced and satisfied with my new life if I wanted to. The bliss was there for the taking, and all I had to do was open my heart to it. The realization was so powerful that it expelled my sleepiness temporarily. This may very well have been yet another of the skin symbiont's siren calls, an attempt to seduce me into abandoning my own personality when I was too tired to think straight, but the thought definitely felt as though it were purely my own, with no deception involved. Thanks to Jake's detective work, I had a scintilla of hope remaining that I could perhaps be transformed back, but if that failed, an incredibly difficult period would follow when I would have to sort out my future and essentially begin my life and career anew. While those were the hard realities of my situation, something was nonetheless telling me they could be ultimately overcome. I would survive every setback and thrive in the end--as Buffy Cynthia Michelle Caldwell. Perhaps I could even go so far as to make peace with the other Buffy, Miss Summers, and learn to live with her. It would take a lot of time, maybe also a lot of tears, but it was an attainable goal. With Dawn's faint, adorable snoring in my ears and her soft weight leaning on me, my tiredness soon returned. I yawned, let my eyes flutter closed again, and drifted off. (To be continued...)