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James did not recall having any dreams. His hands came up to rub at his face as he recalled how he had collapsed into bed only a few moments after arriving home yesterday. The light streaming in the window brought home how long he had slept. It must have been only four or five in the afternoon when he went to bed the previous day. The reflected light on the roofs of the houses showed it was indeed morning.

Sunday. James groaned at the thought. The last thing that he wanted to do was to attend mass. Already he was having enough trouble with his life that he didn't need to bring God into it as well. For a long time, he hadn't been on speaking terms with God, and he had no intention of opening up that can of worms again with his new life. He dropped his hand to lie across his chest. His eyes still closed, James could feel the softness. He didn't want to open his eyes, for he could feel the warmth under his palm. He knew what he would see if he looked down. He would see more evidence of his female transformation. He would have to see the fact that he now had a pair of tits.

Unable to delay the inevitable any longer, he opened his eyes. There, beneath the t-shirt he had worn to bed, he could see the large bulges that lay on his chest. His hands came up, almost of their own accord, and pressed against them. They were definitely real. The warmth that ran through his chest as he did this was strange. The same chill that had run through him the day before when he had taken off his shirt ran up his spine again.

He closed his eyes again, a tear forming in each. His hands came up to cover his face, which clenched in a horrid grimace.

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" James said aloud, the words echoing in the room. He could already feel that he had no morning wood as well, and he dreaded the thought of looking down further.

"Get up, James." He said to himself. "It's not going to change anything if you sit in bed all day." The logic was correct, but James did not want to face logic. What he wanted was to run screaming through the house, cursing himself for ever thinking that one letter wouldn't make that much of a difference.

He brushed his hand back through his hair, noticing that it had lengthened again. Not as much as last time, thank god, but enough that it fell to the midpoint of his shoulder blades. As he did so, he noted that his fingernails scratched his scalp. He turned his hand over, curling his fingers to check the length of his nails. Yup, time to break out the clippers. Probably had to get his toenails, too.

He rolled to the side, tossing the covers off with one arm. As he did so, he noticed the slight motion of the bulges on his chest. He ran his hand across his shirt again, noticing the way that they moved slightly at his touch. They were firm, but had some mobility as he leaned forward so that he was sitting on his bed.

"Ok, time to get this over with." James said, to no one in particular. He looked down at the jockey shorts that covered the top portion of his legs. He could see no bulge at all in them. Taking a deep breath, he hooked his thumb into the waistband and pulled it away from his body, willing himself not to scream as he looked.

He was definitely female. He released the elastic, which snapped back into place instantly. He breathed deeply, rolling his eyes up. This was not the time for self exploration, and he doubted that he would ever be comfortable enough with the change to try that.

"Talk about a lousy morning." He grumbled, standing up from his bed. His voice. That had changed as well, he noticed. Over the past few days it hadn't seemed noticeable, but now it was definitely higher. "Oh great, now I'm back in the alto section of choir."

No, wait. That was wrong, thank god. He had quit the choir months ago. His mother hadn't taken that news lightly, but now at least he wouldn't have to deal with that particular nightmare. Again, James wished he had a guitar handy. If he ever needed to play a few chords to calm down, now was the time.

He had to pee. Badly. The feeling in his bladder was overwhelming, as he stumbled towards the door to his room. He pushed it open, and tromped down the hallway towards the bathroom. He brushed his hair back out of his face as he pushed the bathroom door open. Closing the door, he walked to the toilet, raising the lid. He fumbled in his underwear for a moment, then groaned, and dropped the lid back to the seated position. He turned around and sat down.

When James was finished, he noticed a slightly unpleasant wet feeling on his anatomy. He grabbed a piece of toilet paper, and cleaned the remnants of urine away, grumbling at the necessity. He flushed, pulling his underwear back into position.

While he washed his hands, James stared into the mirror. His hair still framed his face, but it looked ragged, as if he hadn't had a hair cut in a month. His eyes were still the same, but they looked tired, just awakened. He washed his face as an afterthought, getting rid of the sleepy look. The cold water had the added effect of waking him up fully, and he took in the reflection of the woman in the mirror.

"Holy shit." He murmured, looking over the form that was reflected. His face had not changed significantly overnight, but his body had. Dear lord, his body had changed. His gaze drifted down towards his chest, and the breasts that jutted out. James noted that they were exactly the kind of tits that he always had admired as a man. They rode firmly on his chest, moving only slightly as he did. As he looked, he noted the nipples hardening beneath his t-shirt.

"Oh no." He mumbled, turning his attention away from the mirror. The last thing he needed was to get turned on by looking at himself. He moved to the door, and opened it, revealing the face of his step-father Randall, who was waiting for the toilet.

James froze, looking directly into Randall's eyes. Randall, for his part, did not look back. James noticed for a split-second that he was still as tall as he had ever been, before he noticed that Randall was not looking into his eyes. Randall was looking lower.

"Uh, morning?" James said, trying to get Randall to stop staring at his breasts quite so obviously.

"Huh? Oh, morning Margaret." Randall responded, his gaze dropping even lower.

James sighed, and walked past Randall, feeling his eyes undressing him as he moved. He had never completely understood that phrase which women used before, but he felt it now. He could tell that Randall was not just looking at him, but thinking about him. Quite probably, he was thinking about James in ways that a man should never think about his step-son. Daughter, James corrected himself, instantly. He doesn't see you as a boy anymore.

James closed the door to his room behind himself, noticing that he was actually afraid. Why was he afraid? There was no reason to be. He was still just as tall as Randall, and Randall hadn't actually done anything. Even if he had, James could easily have dealt with him just like that little punk the day before.

Wiping away the last vestiges of his fear, James grabbed his sweats. His mother might give him some shit about wearing them, but he'd be damned if he would give Randall another eyeful. James pulled the fabric on, over the clothing that he had worn the night before. He looked down, noting with some satisfaction that it obscured his form rather well. Right now, he just wanted to grab a small bite to eat, and get whatever the day brought over with. James noticed that he was only thinking about a small breakfast. Perhaps whatever had jacked up his metabolism was finally over. With another glance downward, he realized that was extremely likely.

With a final mental preparation, James opened the door and tromped down the stairs. The hallway at the bottom was empty, and he walked along it slowly, heading for the kitchen. Reaching it, he pulled open the refrigerator, his eyes scanning for something appetizing. His eyes roamed before he settled on a bagel. He grasped it in his right hand, while he fished the cream cheese out of the cheese drawer with his left. Turning, he closed the door with his foot, taking the items to the counter.

"Well, you're finally up!" Anne said, coming into the kitchen from the front room. Her look was one of concern.

James looked at the clock, noticing it was about eight in the morning. Oh well, he guessed that they had missed church because of him.

"Sorry, I overslept." He replied, working with a knife to attempt to get the bagel apart. It fell easily into two pieces, which he slathered with cream cheese. "I was pretty tired."

"I should say so. You've been asleep for over thirty-six hours." Anne said, coming up behind him.

"You didn't wake me?" James asked. The idea that his mother would let him sleep that long was pretty alien to his experience.

"When I called Doctor Hubbard, he said that it would be best to let you sleep. I came in a few times to check on you, but you seemed alright."

"I slept through Sunday?" James asked incredulously. "No wonder..."

"No wonder what honey?" Anne said, looking at James' back.

"I, uh, think whatever was going on is over." James explained, as he turned around with the bagel in his right hand. He took a bite, while gesturing to himself with his left.

"Oh." Anne said, her gaze running over his form. Unlike Randall, when Anne looked at him, James did not feel as uncomfortable. The gaze was more of an appraisal than the mental undressing he had received earlier. He knew that she wasn't able to see much, thanks to his clothing selections, but the few bulges that showed should give the general idea.

"So, uhm, are you, uh..." Anne asked, stumbling over the question as she stared directly at James' crotch.

"Yeah. It's completely done, mom." James stated, becoming slightly uncomfortable at his mother's question. What kind of a question was that, anyway? It's a question from somebody who loves and cares about you, dumbass, his mind berated him. "I, uh, geez..." he tried to figure out exactly how to say the next line. "It didn't hurt or anything, mom. I mean, I wasn't even awake when it happened."

"Alright honey, I just... I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, Maggie." Anne said, her gaze returning to his eyes.

"Thanks, mom." James replied, taking another bite of his bagel.

"You're a lot taller than I thought you would be." Anne said, deflecting the line of thought to something a little more general.

"Yeah, that surprised me too."

"Come over here," Anne pointed to a small section of wall where the old "growth chart" was. It wasn't even really a chart, just a few marks on plaster that had marked his height ever since he was eight years old. Smiling, James finished his bagel, and walked to the point at which his mother had pointed. He leaned back against the wall, straightening his spine to the maximum amount possible.

Anne placed her hand on the top of his head, and gestured for him to move away. Her mouth opened in shock as she looked at the point at which her fingers touched the wall.

"Maggie, you're taller." She said in amazement.

"No way." James looked at her fingertips, marking a spot at least a half an inch over the last marked line. "Get outta here. I'm taller?"

"Yes, at least half an inch. What were you, five foot ten?"

"Yeah, I think so." James recalled that he actually hadn't gained an inch in height from the time he was sixteen. He had stopped growing then, both physically and emotionally.

"Well, you're at least five ten and a half now." Anne stated, smiling at him. "See, it's not all bad, is it?"

"I guess." James shrugged his shoulders. A half an inch in height wasn't spectacular growth.

"Honey, you're pretty tall for a girl." Anne said at James' shrug. "I'm only five eight."

"I must get it from Grandma. What was she, six one?" James recalled his grandmother, an extremely tall woman with grey hair.

"Yeah, you must. It's just kind of strange, you being so tall when your sister is not." Anne remarked, her eyes never leaving the growth chart, and his sister's mark about seven inches below his.

James did not comment, merely looking at his mother. She returned his gaze, with a softness that surprised him. Despite everything, she was still his mother. Despite the changes, despite everything he would later put her through, she was always going to love him. He realized that now.

"Maggie." Anne said, looking at James with that same soft expression, "You are beautiful."

"My name is James, mom." James tried. He knew that she didn't think that anymore, and to be honest, he wasn't sure of that anymore. He felt that he had to say it, though. He had to hang on to it, fearing it would be lost forever. What good was it to go back if everything he was disappeared?

"No. Not anymore, honey." Anne stepped forward and pulled James into a tight embrace. He closed his eyes as she did so, and hugged her back, feeling her against him. She seemed smaller somehow, as her body pressed against his.

"I'm scared, mom." James whispered, thinking about the way Randall had looked at him. He had only seen that look in a man's eyes once before. It was at a party, four months in the future, seven years in his past. A party where a man had taken advantage of a boy.

"Shhhh." Anne said, rocking the girl in her arms. She patted him on the back softly. James felt the warmth of the embrace, the love that his mother was showing him. The cynicism of years drifted away, lost in the clutch of a mother and her child.

Time slipped to a crawl, as he was held. It wasn't fair. He had given this woman so much pain, and yet she accepted him as if everything was alright. Despite the bitter feelings that his memories inspired, he gave in totally to the feeling of being loved, and of just being held.

"MOOOOM!" Elaine shouted from somewhere in the distance. The voice ended the embrace, and James was embarrassed to realize that he had been crying. "Julie wants to know if I can go to the mall today!"

"NO!" Anne shouted back, turning away from James. "You're going to be spending the day with your sister and me!"

"AWWWWW!" Elaine sighed from the doorway of the kitchen. She scurried back into the front room, returning a brief moment later. "Can she come with us then?"

"We're not shopping for you." Anne cautioned, looking the fourteen year old in the eye. "I don't want you two pestering Maggie."

"We won't mom, honest!" Elaine brought her hands together in front of her in a pleading gesture. "Pleeeeeease?"

Anne looked at her a moment longer before relenting with a nod. Elaine's face broke into a wide smile as she dashed from the doorway, presumably to give the news to Julie on the phone.

"Where are we going, mom?" James asked, looking at his mother with a puzzled expression.

"Oh, we're going to get you everything that you need for college." Anne said. She moved over to a counter where her purse lay and dug in it, finally extracting a lengthy list. "Plus I can't have you running around the house in my clothes or sweatpants all the time, can I?"

James groaned, thinking about what that meant. It meant school shopping. School shopping was a yearly torture that he despised. He had loathed it since he was a child, and he would despise it now. As far as shopping went he was always a walk in, grab it, pay, leave kind of guy. Not so his mother. Anne had always insisted that he try on everything, whenever she was paying. The vision of the day spent at the mall made him cringe.

"Do we have to do it today?" He tried, looking down at himself. The amount he had wanted to eat this morning suggested that his metabolism was back to normal, but he didn't think his mother knew that. "I thought we were going to wait until my, uh, sizes finalized." "I'm pretty sure that they have, honey. I noticed that you only ate one bagel this morning." Well, there went that idea.

"Well, let me grab a shower at least. I mean, look at me." James gestured to himself, specifically the hair that fell around his shoulders.

"Ok, but hurry. You know everything opens at nine."

James groaned again, as he walked down the corridor towards the bathroom. He walked in, and closed the door. He turned the lock, then checked again to ensure that it actually was locked. Recalling Randall's look earlier, he also took the precaution of moving the small magazine rack in front of the door. Fairly certain that there was nothing else he could do to be more secure, he looked at himself in the mirror.

"Hey, Maggie." He mumbled to the face in the mirror. The feeling was bizarre. He knew that the woman that he saw was himself, but there was a feeling of unreality. Shaking off the strange feeling, James pulled the sweatshirt and the t-shirt under it upwards, leaving himself naked from the waist up. His eyes naturally drifted downwards, past his lips, down along the smooth curve of his neck. She noted briefly that her collarbones were now perfectly symmetrical, despite the soccer incident that had fractured the right one at age 12, leaving it permanently curved. Her eyes drifted lower, to stare at the chest that she now had to recognize as her own. Hers...

James realized that it was the first time she had actually thought of herself as actually female. It didn't seem strange. She was a woman now, after all. She may not like it, but referring to herself as a man in her own thoughts wouldn't help the situation any. Smiling at the realization, James took in the shape of her breasts; the gentle swell, capped by a slightly darker bit of skin. Under her gaze, James noticed that the areola of her breasts wrinkled slightly, and the nipple itself began to softly rise. She was getting slightly aroused, and was tempted to touch it, but playing with herself while her mother waited for her to finish a shower wasn't exactly the best of ideas. Dragging her gaze from her own body, she lowered her sweatpants to the floor, while reaching out to turn the shower on.

She brushed the curtain aside, stepping into the warm spray. She inhaled sharply at the feelings as the water ran across her body. It was different to say the least. James pulled the curtain into place, and ran her hands through her hair, soaking it thoroughly. She reached for a bottle of shampoo on the edge of the tub, and ran a bit through her hair, noting the scent of roses as it reached her nostrils.

"No wonder we buy this stuff." James mumbled to herself as she took in the aroma. There was no way for her to compare how that one smell affected her to any odor in her memory. It was an emotion, a fragrance, a feeling. Combined with the sensations of running her hands through her hair, the entire experience was one of pure sensuality.

"This is just because it's new." James tried to bring herself back to reality with the thought, scrubbing her hair vigorously. With her attention brought back to the task at hand, the rest of the process went much faster. She shook the last of the shampoo from her hair, and picked up a bar of soap. "Now, don't freak. This is just like washing your girlfriend." she mumbled to herself.

It wasn't. Running soap over her body was an interesting experience, since wherever she touched herself, her male mind kept trying to point out the fact that she was feeling up a girl. To make matters worse, as she worked she kept feeling a heat beginning to grow in her lower abdomen. Her entire skin felt alive as she rinsed the suds from her body, sending chills up her spine whenever the water splashed across a particularly sensitive spot.

"This is ridiculous." James said quietly. "I'm getting turned on by taking a fricking shower." Dragging her attention back to the fact that she was supposed to be cleaning herself, James quickly finished up. Ignoring the sensations was difficult, especially the ones involving the lower half of her body. James was tempted to just grab the shower nozzle, stick it between her legs and get this whole curiosity problem over with. However, she didn't think that orgasmic screams would be the best way to convince her mother that she was just fine and adjusting perfectly normally, thankyouverymuch. She turned off the shower, and began to dry herself with a towel from the nearby rack.

"That was weird." James said to herself, as she felt the heat in her lower body beginning to lessen. What was left was a strange feeling of, well, wetness. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable of feelings, leaving James with the distinct feeling that she had wet herself. It wasn't that of course, since after drying herself with the towel the feeling remained. It was still there, but not as pronounced.

"If this is what women have to deal with when we get turned on, I'm showering in the dark from now on." James stated to her reflection, and began gathering up the clothes on the floor. She dressed rapidly, then picked up a brush and quickly put her hair into some semblance of order. She then moved the magazine rack, and unlocked the door. Calming herself, she exited the room, into the main corridor of the house.

"You ready, Maggie?" Anne called from the front room of the house.

"Just let me get my shoes on, mom!" James called as she began to ascend the stairs to her room. She still thought of herself as James. She wasn't ready to be Maggie, and she wasn't sure that she would ever be.

James wondered if she could get away with sweatpants today. Although her mother's slacks were slightly more comfortable than the male clothes she owned, they ended at the bottom of her calves. Shorts were out, since the last thing she needed today was Randall humming a ZZ Top song whenever she walked by. James finally gave in to her initial idea, and pulled on the light grey sweatpants. Her mother would probably give her garbage about wearing them, but she figured that she could just point out that the entire reason they were taking this little trip was to get clothing.

James was tempted to dig in her wardrobe for the most offensive t-shirt she had, but she once again pulled back on the impulse, instead merely selecting another polo shirt, this one a deep red. Hopefully that would keep her mother off her back.

James yanked her damp hair back, securing it tightly with a rubber band. The tug on the strands was uncomfortable as always, but for some reason, today the sensation of wrongness wasn't going away. When she had been male, the feeling of tightness in her hair had tended to dissipate after a few moments, not really noticeable until she would remove the rubber band. Now, it felt as if every hair that was restrained by the slightly sticky elastic was being agonizingly pulled from her scalp whenever she turned her head.

"Please tell me this is just because it's new." James muttered to herself, pulling the rubber band free of her hair. A few strands came with it, intertwined in the rubber. There was an actual feeling of relief, as the strands fell back into position around her shoulder. "Maybe that's why my girlfriend always offered me a scrunchy whenever she saw me use one of these." James mused to herself as she tossed the elastic into a wastebasket.

Unwilling to waste any more time on preparations, James pulled on her one armed leather jacket, and threw open the door to her room. She moved quickly to the front room, where her mother and sister were waiting.

"We're still getting a new jacket today." Anne commented as she observed her child.

"Yeah, I know." James muttered. She still didn't want to do this. Well, at least she didn't want to go to the mall to go "Shopping". Although it would be nice to have some fricking clothes that fit, she doubted very much her mother would approve of her just replacing her wardrobe with the exact same items that she already owned. "This is sooo cool!" Elaine bubbled, drawing James's attention. Elaine had braided her hair into two pigtails that streamed down her back sometime during James' lengthy sleep. Combined with the jeans and t-shirt, she looked like a typical young teenage girl about to go hang out with friends. Ugh.

James waited on the wooden front porch of the house while her mother gathered her things and closed and locked the door. She noted that Randall's truck was gone, which was a good sign. The less she had to deal with his royal jerkness, the happier she would be.

When everyone was fully prepared, they piled into the station wagon, James taking the shotgun seat. Instead of heading directly towards the main thoroughfare, his mother turned the car to the right, and began to ascend the hill. James wondered what was wrong, before she remembered that Elaine's friend Julie was going to be joining them. The thought merely added to her torture. Why couldn't they have just staked her down with some honey in the desert?

Julie, now there was an interesting girl. James recalled that she was the same age as Elaine, and that they had been friends for as long as she could remember. They played games together, slept over at each other's houses constantly, and generally acted just as sickeningly sweet as two little sociopaths could.

The car rolled in to the driveway of the large ranch style house, and Anne shut off the motor.

"Uhm, I'll just wait here." James said, making no move to undo her seatbelt.

"Maggie, I think you... " Anne paused in the middle of her conciliatory thought, and her tone when she continued was tinged with exasperation, "Fine. You sit here in the car and be anti-social."

Elaine had already exited the car, practically skipping up to the front door of the house. She rang the doorbell, and turned back to the car, waving for Anne to join her.

"Just remember something, Margaret James Fletcher," Anne used her new full name for the first time, driving home exactly how upset she was, "You are only sixteen years old. You may be out of high school, but that does NOT mean you are an adult. You WILL be social, you WILL be pleasant, and if you want to go off to college, you WILL go shopping with me today, and you WILL NOT give me any problems. Do you understand?"

James hated this tone. She wasn't sure what she had said to set Anne off, but she knew that if she responded with anything but "yes, mom", she could look forward to another date with the Tribunal.

"Yes, mom." James said calmly. "I'll try, Ok?"

"Good. Now let's go get Julie."

James took a deep breath and unbuckled her seatbelt. She opened the car door, and followed her mother up to the front door of the house, where a fairly heavy-set woman was waving while she chatted with Elaine and another young girl who he knew to be Julie. Julie was an athletic girl, with a long brown braided ponytail which fell halfway down her back. She seemed to have coordinated outfits over the phone with Elaine earlier, since they both were wearing similar t-shirts with their blue jeans.

The large woman who James knew as Julie's mother chatted briefly with Anne. Anne explained about the shopping trip for Maggie, conspicuously leaving out the fact that "Maggie" was "James". The conversation seemed to end very quickly, with Anne pointing meaningfully at her watch, and Julie's mother nodding knowingly. Julie held hands with Elaine as the two girls raced towards the car. Julie raced to the front right of the car, shouting

"SHOTGUN!" at the top of her lungs. James rolled her eyes but said nothing, merely moving to the unoccupied seat in the car and sitting down. Anne started the car after they had all piled in, and started it rolling down the street towards the main section of town.

"Hi, Maggie! Elaine told me all about you!" Julie leaned back in her seat to look into James' face.

"Really?" James said, wondering how much Elaine had gone on to her friend.

"Yeah, it's really sad about your parents. I'm sorry."

What? James had no idea what she was talking about. His parents? Mom was sitting right there...

"Yeah, I told her about how Aunt Francie died, and how you're going to be living with us now."

"That was very, um, original of you."

"Elaine? What did you tell her?" Anne asked, also looking back, but looking towards her younger daughter.

"Well, you know, how Maggie's going to be living with us because of that fire in, uh, her house in San Francisco?"

"Uh-huh..." Anne said, listening to the little fiction that Elaine had created.

"Because, uhm, Maggie lost almost everything... And James is over at summer camp... So, since she's almost the same size as he is, uh... you let her use some of his clothes."

"Naah, She's WAAAAY taller than James." Julie laughed. "James is soooo short."

"Is not." Elaine retorted, "He was like, uhm, I mean he's tall."

"Uhm, Anne. Are you sure that you want to let this continue?" James was hesitant to contradict her little sister, but at the same time, this little convoluted soap-opera had the potential to create more problems than it would solve.

"Not really." Anne said, looking back at Elaine. "It was really sweet of you to make up a story about Maggie, but I think that it would be a lot better if you told the truth."

"Aww..." Elaine sighed, looking at Julie with a bitter expression. "Ok. Maggie was my brother James."

"EEEEEWWWWW!!!!" Julie shrieked, somewhat repulsed. "You mean he's like one of those guys that dresses up like a girl?"