Becca's first real client comes home with her for dinner, and her very existence reveals a much bigger problem than either she or Becca could have realized. Also, Hunter's transformation into Heather has her afraid to go home -- and Becca's blood boils when she finds out why.

by Randalynn

---

 
 

“If you can wake up in a different place. If you can wake up in a different time.
Why can't you wake up as a different person?” -- Chuck Palahniuk
 
 

I waited while Heather cried her eyes out on my shoulder. Apparently, whatever had happened to her since she changed gender had really ripped her up emotionally. Hell, I thought, the sex change alone probably tore her concept of reality to shreds. I guessed it was no surprise, really. The whole idea of a spontaneous sex change belonged in an episode of The Twilight Zone. And when Hunter started looking for help and found everyone convinced she had always been a girl named Heather? Well, even I expected a fast camera pan to reveal a skinny man in a dark suit -- standing in a corner, smoking a cigarette and delivering wry commentary directly to the audience.

And I knew magic was real. Imagine how Heather must have felt, knowing it wasn't.

I guess she knew better now, for all the good it did her. But not even Hunter deserved to have his whole reality taken away from him in a heartbeat. I felt cold all over.

I need to fix this, I thought. First, because it's the right thing to do. And second, because ... well, because it's my job.

Her voice against my shoulder was one long high-pitched sentence that never seemed to find a period.

"Oh God thank God you know me oh man you have no idea what this feels like someone rewrote my life and I'm a fucking GIRL oh God I am sooo sorry about this morning I was a real jerk and I'm sorry and oh Becca you KNOW me thank God --"

And the sobs started again. I held her for a few minutes more, but eventually the time to be a comforter gave way to a need to move forward.

I couldn't stand out here all night trying to make her feel better. We needed to talk.

"Hunter." Nothing. She kept on sobbing. "Hunter!" She clutched at me and hugged me again.

She was still trembling a little when I pushed her a few inches away, trying to make eye contact. She gave out a mewling noise, almost kittenish, and looked down to avoid looking at me. Suddenly, she stopped crying for a second, then started to giggle. I looked down as well to find her nipples clearly showing through the fabric of her tee-shirt -- just like mine.

"Look," she said, laughing. "We match!"

I heard her laughter starting to move towards hysteria, and I reached over under her chin and tilted her head up until her eyes met mine. Even with those awkward platform sandals adding a few inches to her height, she had become smaller as she changed gender, and had to look up at me. When she realized this, she started shaking all over, and not just from the cold.

"Hunter." I spoke forcefully, trying to pull her away from the edge. I could see her come back to herself, just a little, and I gave her arm a squeeze.

"Stay with me, hon. I know this has got to be freakish in the extreme for you, but if I'm going to help, we need to talk for a while. Someplace where we can concentrate without worrying about freezing to death."

"How ... how can you help me? I'm a g-g-g-g-girl!" Tears started falling again.

I couldn't stop myself from being irritated. "It's not a disease, 'Heather.' Half the population seems to cope just fine. You’re not sick or crippled, you're female. Get a grip!" She moaned, frightened by my sudden anger, and turned to run. I realized I was being cruel. I took her arm. "I'm sorry, hon. Really. But listen. This didn't just happen. Someone or something DID this to you. And until you stop crying and start talking to me about exactly what happened, there's no way I can help you fix it."

'Heather' turned those big green eyes on me, and her jaw dropped. Then her lip started to quiver.

"You can fix it?" Her voice rose into uncharted territory -- at least for Hunter.

Then she grabbed my arm and squeezed, hard. I winced, and she backed off. "How?"

"It will take time to explain," I said softly. Not that I wanted to tell anyone my secret, least of all 'Heather,' but I really had no choice. "Just trust me for now, 'kay? I might be able to help, but not if all we do if stand out here and let you cry. All right?"

She nodded and sniffled, and dried her eyes with the back of her hand, still trembling. "First thing is, we need to get you home."

"NO!" 'Heather' shook violently. "Not my house, please. You don't know -- you can't --"

"Okay, sssssssssssh." I gave her a small hug. "Okay, not your house. You're coming to mine, then. Mom won't mind another person for dinner."

"I couldn't ..."

"Yes, you can, and you will. I need to get home, and I may catch a little bit of hell for being late as it is. But if there's a guest, I might just get off with a warning. And we still need to talk, right?"

She nodded reluctantly. I nodded back with a smile, linked my arm in hers, and started walking. She stumbled once on those damnable sandals, and then locked step with me.

We walked a bit in silence. Heather seemed to be doing better with those sandals, although they made the going slow. I felt the silence turn awkward, and turned my head to find her looking at me.

"Why are you doing this?" Her eyes were full of curiosity and gratitude, but also a touch of suspicion. As if my help was all part of the elaborate joke her life had become. "Why are you being so nice? I was a real jerk this morning, and I know you hated me ... before. So why are you helping me now?"

I thought a moment before answering. "The easy answer is because you need me to, but I'm not sure that's enough." She shook her head, and I sighed. "Okay, it's true. I didn't like Hunter. He tried too hard to be tough and grown-up -- to be what he thought a man should be. Instead, he wound up just being nasty and cruel." She flinched, and I gave her arm a squeeze. "But I never hated you, hon. Not even this morning, before Jeremy stepped in. I could have hurt you the way I hurt ... your friends a little while ago. But not out of hatred. Just because you needed to learn not to push."

"But I think someone else out there decided you had crossed some kind of line, and did this to you. Maybe they wanted to punish you, although I don't think being a girl is so awful."

"Maybe because you grew up this way!"

I sighed and smiled inside. "Maybe they wanted to teach you a lesson. Or maybe they were just having fun. No matter why they did it, it's wrong. Being a jerk is not a capital offense, and maybe you might have grown out of it someday, if they had let you."

We had reached the walk up to my house, and I stopped and turned to face her.

"We may not have been friends before, but I'd like to be one, now," I said. She looked surprised -- almost as if she'd never had anyone want to be her friend before. "Heather needs a friend, and Hunter needs one twice as much. So I'll help them both. If I can."

Heather looked down for a second, then looked up and gave me a little smile and a nod. "I'd like that ... Becca," she said. "I'd like to be your friend, if you'll have me." Then she frowned. "But what about ... after? If you do fix this, and I go back to being Hunter?"

I smiled, and gave her a hug and a little peck on the cheek. Her eyes got very wide, and I laughed, just a little.

"Well, that will depend," I said with a grin, "on what kind of Hunter you go back to being."

###

Heather and I walked into the house, arm in arm. There was music playing — a CD of some jazz quartet Carolyn liked. I could smell dinner cooking, and heard her and Emma talking.

"Becca's okay, Mom," Emma was saying as she set the table. "You know she can take care of herself."

"But she's only thirteen," Carolyn replied. "Martial arts or no, she shouldn't be out alone after dark."

"And I'm not," I said cheerily. "See? I'm home now. And I brought a friend."

"Heather! What a surprise!" Carolyn said, then looked closer. "Have you been crying, dear?"

Carolyn knows Heather. Hmmmm I turned to look at Heather, and saw her eyes were red and swollen and her face all blotchy. She nodded at Mom and looked down.

"There were these four boys," she said softly. "And they wouldn't leave me alone. Becca came along and ...stopped them, Ma'am."

Ma'am? I looked closer at Heather. She had become much more feminine since we walked into the kitchen. The way she stood, how she held her hands, the way she spoke. Must be part of the spell, I decided. So she fits into the new reality without raising questions.

"Stopped them?" Mom's voice was sharp.

"She ... made them stop, Ms. Barnes," Heather said haltingly, still looking at the floor. "You know ... with that fighting thing she does?" She rushed on, trying to get it all out. "So it's really my fault she's late. I'm very sorry."

Emma looked at Carolyn, happily. "See? Told you she could take care of herself."

"And everyone else, it appears." Carolyn gave me a hard look and I shrugged.

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do, Mom," I said, and behind Carolyn I could see Emma catch my eye and shake her head. I kicked myself mentally. Don't be flip, Becca, I thought. That doesn't really fly with Mom. Never did, even when you were Jack.

Carolyn walked over and gave Heather a hug. "It's not your fault she's late, Heather," she said sternly. "Don’t you go blaming yourself for anything. If you want to blame someone, blame those boys." Heather nodded timidly. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Mom, can Heather stay for dinner?" I asked quickly. "Is there enough?"

Carolyn nodded. "Of course, dear. We always make enough for twelve, the way your brother eats. And he'll be happy to see Heather, of course." Her face shifted into concerned parent mode, and I looked back and sighed. I could feel a lecture coming on.

"Heather, would you help Emma set the table?" She nodded, and Emma smiled at her as she handed Heather a stack of plates. "Becca, can I see you for a moment in private?"

I nodded, and gave Heather's shoulder a squeeze before going into the living room with Mom. Once we arrived, she wasted no time.

"You fought four teenaged boys?" she said sharply. "In the street?"

"Only two, Mom, honest," I replied. "After the first two went down, the other two got scared of me and decided to leave."

"Scared of you?" Her voice went up an octave, then she stopped, took a breath, and shook her head. "I'm not sure how I feel about this, Becca. On the one hand, I'm proud you stepped in and saved Heather from God know what. She's sweet, but not as ... capable as you are." Her eyes narrowed. "On the other hand, I don't want my little girl brawling in the street. You're only thirteen, and if you lose even one fight ... you could wind up beaten and raped, or dead."

"I know that, Mom," I said quickly.

"Do you, Becca? You don't seem to act like it." She took my hand and sat down with me on the sofa. "Sometimes it seems you're too confident for a thirteen-year-old. Too ... sure of yourself. Like knowing how to fight makes you invulnerable. But it doesn't. Out there in the street, there were lots of things you could have done. You could have screamed for help. You could have run to the nearest door and pounded until someone came out. Instead, you went and took on four boys single-handed." I saw tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, but her voice remained steady. "It was brave, but ... baby, if just one of those boys had hit you from behind while you were 'playing' with the others ... if two of them had grabbed you ... I might never have seen you again." The tears finally fell, and I realized this wasn't a lecture.

It was a plea.

I gave her a hug, and she squeezed back. We held each other for a little while, and I shed some tears, too. Then I pulled back a little so I could look into her eyes. She looked back, and I sighed.

"Mom, I'm sorry if I upset you, really. I don't mean to. But you and ... and Dad taught me how to be the person I am. Because of the values you taught me, I can't run away and do the 'safe' thing if someone is in trouble. What if I screamed or pounded on the door and no one came? How far could they have gotten with Heather if I took the safe way out and ran for help?"

Carolyn did not look happy. "Becca, I --"

"Mom, please let me finish." She stopped and waited. "I promise I'll be careful. You know I don’t want to worry you, but you also know I'm not stupid, and you taught me how to use my head. I won’t take chances, but I won't turn away if someone needs me. Because that's not the kind of person you raised me to be. Okay?"

She looked at me for a long time, then sighed. "I swear, Becca, sometimes you sound just like your father. So rational, so in control. Aren't teens supposed to be wild and impulsive? Just how did you grow up so quickly?"

"I had help." I smiled, and gave her a hug. "Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, baby." She hugged me back. "Please be careful."

"Always." I closed my eyes and hoped I could keep that promise.

###

When we walked back into the kitchen, Emma was telling Heather about how she had scored the winning goal in her soccer match last week. Heather was riveted, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. Just as Emma finished her story, Jeremy walked in from the hall where the bedrooms were and broke into a smile.

"Hey, babe!" He moved over to Heather and hugged her tight. I saw Heather's eyes shut and watched her whole body wilt in Jeremy's embrace. Her arms came up to hug him too, and his mouth moved to hers.

"A-hem." Carolyn stood directly behind Heather. "Mom in the room, Jeremy," she said pointedly. His lips brushed Heathers, just for an instant, and he let her go.

"Hi, Mom!" he chirped, a little too enthusiastically. "Dinner ready?"

"Just about," Carolyn replied in a softer tone, and started for the oven.

I looked at Heather, but her eyes were totally on Jeremy. He took her hand, and she responded by moving next to him and putting her arm around him. His arm came up to hold her automatically, and she rested her head on his shoulder. She seemed totally happy.

Whoever did this has a strange sense of dramatic irony, I thought. In love with the guy who beat him down this morning. Or maybe this is just how it would have been, had Heather been born ... Heather. I wonder how Hunter is feeling inside the girl he's become. Because on the outside, she seems ecstatic. I smiled. I wonder if that's how I look with Tommy.

We took out seats. Jeremy held Heather's chair for her, and she smiled and thanked him as she tucked her skirt under and sat primly, knees together. She sat up straight, ate with one hand on her lap (no elbows on the table), and was an attentive and respectful dinner companion. At the end, she tried to help clear the table, but Jeremy took the plates from her hand and shooed her away.

"We need to talk anyway, right, Heather?" I said happily. "Girl stuff, Jeremy. No listening in."

He was bent over the dishwasher, putting in plates. "Go ahead, have your fun. But don't keep her too long, sis. We need time too."

I took Heather's hand and guided her down to my bedroom. When I closed the door, she seemed to shudder all over, and collapsed on the bed in a heap.

"God," she breathed. "That felt so good, it was scary. He really cares about me ... about Heather. And when I'm out there, all I can think about is him."

"Pretty strong, huh?" I flopped down on the bed next to her.

She looked down, and her voice became hushed. "Becca, I never felt like that before. Ever. I thought about ... sex a lot, you know? What guy hasn't? But deep inside I knew, when I looked in the mirror, that I'd always be sniffing after it like a junkyard dog on a bitch in heat. I knew nobody would ever want me. No matter how much I wanted it."

"So I wanted sex. But I've never loved anyone. And I've never been loved." Heather started shaking. "I didn't know what love felt like. And suddenly, there's this guy, and he sees me, and his eyes light up ... It ... it felt so good out there, Becca. His arms around me, wanting me, loving me." She looked at me and her eyes were red again, and her lip was quivering. "But it's not real! I'm not really this girl, and when I go back to being me, he'll just hate me again. Just like everybody hates me."

I put my arms around her and gave a squeeze. "Sssssssssh. It's okay. I don't hate you, hon. Never did, remember?"

"But he did," she sniffled. "And he will again."

"Jeremy may surprise you, Heather," I smiled. "He sure surprised me this morning."

Heather smiled in spite of herself. "Me too! Man, he took me down hard ... without breaking a sweat." The smile slipped from her face. "Maybe if he had been my friend in the first place, I wouldn't have chased after the jerks I wound up hanging with." She shook her head. "I was pretty damned stupid, wasn't I?"

"Pretty much, hon," I said, and her head snapped up, surprised. I smiled and gave her a squeeze. "Truth between girlfriends, always, Heather. No games, right?" She relaxed and nodded. I pushed forward. "Listen, if you don't tell me what happened today, Jeremy may wind up being more than a friend for the rest of your life."

Heather got up and took a few steps away, her back toward me, her arms folded under her breasts. I meant it as a way to get the conversation headed toward what happened, but she seemed to be giving it serious thought. Then she shook all over like a spaniel coming out of a river, and looked at me with a rueful smile.

"Sorry," she said softly. "I guess I got distracted."

"Love does that to you, hon." I smiled. "Believe me, I know."

She turned away again. "I know I can't stay like this, not when -- I just can't."

She's hiding something, I thought. But now's not the time to pry it out of her. Instead, I nodded. "Tell me about what happened today."

She shrugged. "I don't remember it all. It was late in the day, I know that much. I had a free period, a study hall." She sniggered. "Like I'd study, right?"

I watched as bits of the old Hunter slipped out of Heather as she talked. Her shoulders hunched just a little, and her weight shifted in a way that just didn't work quite right with her new hips.

"So ... I was hanging out by the girl's locker room, trying to get a look inside when the door opened ... you know, when someone left?" She ducked her head, embarrassed. Her hands did that weird shuffle move I'd seen Hunter do a thousand times before, and she tried to slip them in her pockets before realized she didn't have pockets to slip them into. Uncomfortable, she folded her arms under her breasts again. "Yeah, I know. It was stupid and childish, but we already covered that, right?" I nodded and gave her a small smile.

"Anyway, I was waiting there, and suddenly this girl grabs me by the arm and swings me around. 'Hunter, you little perv,' she shouted, 'trying to peek at the girls!' I tried to shake her off, but another girl grabbed my other arm. I struggled a little, but the two of them were pretty strong. Which was weird, because I might be small, but I'm not weak, ya know? Or at least I wasn't, before."

"'Let me go!' I yelled, more than a little freaked. The first girl smiled like I said somethin' funny, and she said 'oh, we'll let you go all right -- right where you want to be. Enjoy the ride, pussy.' A third girl opened up the door to the locker room, and the first two threw me hard right through. Then ... nothin'. I thought I hit my head or somethin', because I was just ... out. Everything went black."

"When I woke up, I was in the nurse's office, lyin' down. She called me Heather, and at first it sounded right, ya know? But then part of me realized it wasn't my name. She said I had fainted in the locker room and some of the girls had brought me there. When I tried to sit up, I knew that more than my clothes had changed. But instead of going insane, my brain shifted inside, and I smiled at the nurse and told her I was feeling much better, and I really wanted to get back to class. She smiled back at me and wrote me a pass, and before I could say 'hey I've got boobs,' I was out the door and standing in the hallway."

She sat back down on the bed and looked at her feet.

"It was totally weird, you know? Suddenly I'm standing by myself, and everything feels wrong again. I'm balancing on these stupid sandals, purse over my shoulder, standing up straight, hair curling down past my shoulders, and my tee shirt showing major cleavage with my tits sticking out like they're on display or somethin'. I start walking towards my next class, hips moving like a snake, trying hard not think about any of it. Just trying to hold on to ... me. Then the bell rings, and suddenly there are about a thousand people in the hall. Half of them are boys, and it felt like half of them liked to ... to touch. Everywhere."

Heather shuddered, and I put an arm around her. "And then I was her again, trying hard not to let them touch me. I barely made it to class without bawling like a baby, and it turns out I had walked myself to 'my' fashion design class. A memory surfaced and I realized I ... Heather was learning how to design and make a dress for the Homecoming Dance. I'm thinking, 'Damn, this is so going to suck,' right before I walked through the door. But the instant I do ... it doesn't. All of the sudden, I'm smiling, joking with the ... other girls, having a great time, talking about colors and fabrics and things I never wanted to know in a millions years. It's not horrible. In fact, it feels pretty good. But deep down inside, I know it's not what I'm supposed to be doing. It's not ME."

"That's when I started to worry. Everyone thought I was this Heather chick. I mean, here I was, sewing this dress and hanging -- with girls -- and I was having fun." She stopped, thought for a moment, and looked at me. "Becca ... when I was Hunter, I ... I NEVER had fun. Not really. I used to just kill time. This is going to sound weird, but part of me began to wonder if I really was her. Like, maybe I really was Heather, and this was just some kinda breakdown she was going through, you know? Maybe Hunter was just somethin' she made up. So I decided to just go with it, and relaxed, and kinda went with the program."

"Anyway, class ended and I got up with everyone else and we all put our materials away and left. Then I started thinking, out in the hall. This whole thing started by the girl's locker room. Maybe if I find the girls who took me to the nurse, or the ones who threw me through the door, I could figure out what's real."

"So off I go, walking through the halls being Heather, watching for stray hands and smiling and saying hey to people I didn't know before a few hours back. I get to the hallway outside the gym, and it's quiet. Suddenly they grabbed me from behind -- the same girls from before. And they are seriously pissed."

"'So, bitch,' the one who threw me said with a smile. 'How does it feel to be the prey instead of the Hunter?' And they all laughed, like it was funny, and one tugged on my hair hard and the other reached over and pinched a tit until I cried, and ... and a third reached under my skirt and I tried ... I tried ... so hard ..."

Heather just lost it again, and I just held her tight and let her cry it out. Inside I was seething. Now the gloves come off, I thought savagely. Bad enough to rip his reality away, but to torture him when he's so close to the edge? And for what -- trying to peek in the locker room? Somebody is going to pay.

"When they finished ... playing with me, they left me in a corner of the locker room curled up in a ball, sobbing. I could hear them laughing all the way down the hall. I didn't move. I was ... afraid. I was afraid it was all a trick, and I'd get up to leave and they'd come back for me. Finally, I realized I was alone. And I also knew that Hunter was real, and they'd ... turned me into Heather somehow. Changed everything."

"I stood up slowly, tremblin' all over, like I was cold. All of my clothes were twisted. My ... bra was ... pulled up over my ... breasts and it ... hurt. I ducked into a stall and locked it behind me. Then I reached into the neck of the tee shirt to straighten straps and ... slip my boobs back in the cups ... move 'em around until it felt okay again. When I left the stall, I walked over to the mirror and saw what my hair looked like. So I sighed, took a brush from my purse and pushed it all back into place like I was doing it all my life. And my ... make-up was all smeared and smudged, so I opened the purse, took out some stuff and fixed it without even thinking twice. By the time I realized what I was doin', it was done. That was scary, too."

"I couldn't go home." She said it so decisively that I didn't dare ask why. "So I thought about it and wondered if maybe it was just ... just here at the school. You know? Maybe someone out in the world would remember Hunter and know what to do. So I left and went to the only friends ... Hunter had." She shivered and wrapped her arms tight around her middle. "You saw how well THAT worked. They treated me ... like I tried to treat you. I'm sorry."

I gave her another hug. "All past, hon. What's important now is getting your life back."

Heather gave me a look that was both hopeful and wary. "Your turn to talk, Becca. How can you help me do that?"

I stood up and walked across the room, then turned to face her.

"Here's the short answer. What happened to you — someone messing with reality — it's something that happens all the time, and something the Universe frowns upon. I've been chosen to be a kind of ... defender for people like you. They call me The Advocate, and it's my job to push back when someone uses magic to be cruel or gain power over someone else."

She looked at me, and her face crumpled into disbelief and despair. "Oh, come on! What are you, Buffy the freakin' Vampire Slayer?" She started shaking. "Here I thought you were being serious, and you come at me with a story like that."

"It's true. You know magic is real. You're living proof of it right now."

Her laughter came out shaky as her whole body trembled, and she looked down between her breasts to avoid looking at me. "Yeah, maybe. But that doesn't mean you're Wonder Woman all of the sudden. You were just stringing me along. And I thought you were my friend." Her shoulders started shaking as Heather began to cry again, and I sighed.

She's so fragile, I thought. Must have been hurt alot in her life before this. Too many disappointments. I sighed. Time to show my "badge" and put my magic where my mouth is.

"Heather?" I said softly. "Look up."

She did. Her eyes met mine, upside down, as I stood on my own ceiling with my hands pressed on my thighs, trying hard to keep my skirt from flipping up -- well, down -- to expose my panties. She froze, and then wilted onto the bed, not quite fainting.

I dropped back to the floor and kneeled down in front of her. "Heather, honey? Are you okay?"

She nodded, just once, and pulled herself into a ball on my bed.

"Do you believe me now?" She nodded again, and peeked at me through one eye.

"I'm sorry ... for doubting you." Her voice sounded small and timid. I reached out to touch her arm, and stroked it gently.

"No problem, baby," I whispered. "You've been through a lot today. I wouldn't believe it myself if I weren't living it."

She pulled herself upright on the bed, brushed her hair out of her face and looked at me with new respect. "What ... what else can you do?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure," I admitted sheepishly. "I've only just started learning how to be the Advocate, so I don't know everything I'm capable of, yet. But I do need to help you now, so I guess we'll file this under 'on-the-job training.'" She gave me a small smile. "Did you recognize any of the girls who hurt you? The ones who did this to you?"

Heather shook her head. "No, but I can point them out to you if I see them again."

"Good. I need to do some research, and --"

There was a knock on the door.

"Yes?" I raised my voice.

"It's Jeremy," a muffled voice proclaimed. "I've come to claim my girl!"

"Well, you can't have her yet!" I said as Heather's eye flashed. The door opened, and I watched her shift into lovestruck girl mode almost instantly. Jeremy stood at the door, his hand on his chest, hamming it up for all it was worth.

"You shall not keep me from her," he boasted. "Even if a thousand men block my path, I will prevail. Through swamps and thickets of deadly poisoned thorns, through dragons and ogres and ..."

She giggled and threw herself into his arms. "Save me, oh brave knight!" She proceeded to wilt in his arms, and I could barely keep from laughing. He bent over her and gave her a long deep kiss that ran through Heather's whole body like a wave. I saw a flash of her aura — love and desire and acceptance and peace. It was nothing like the blackness that filled Hunter this morning.

Jeremy broke from the kiss and looked at me. "She's mine!"

Heather looked at me with a plea in her eyes. Was it to get her away from him or to let her be with him for a while? I thought about it for a few seconds and realized that being with Jeremy was one of the few things about this whole experience that made her feel better.

God knows she could use some safe time with someone she trusts, I thought, and nodded.

"She's yours, for now, good Sir Knight," I cackled maniacally, hunching my shoulders just a bit to achieve the "evil crone" look. "But I will have her in my clutches again before the night is out."

I saw her whole body relax, and knew I'd made the right call. She needed to be loved and held and cared for, and to feel that someone cared for her just because of who she was. Even if Heather wasn't who she really was inside, she was real to Jeremy, and Jeremy's love was real to the girl she had become.

"Thanks, sis," Jeremy said with a smile. He lifted her to her feet, took her by the hand, and walked her out and down the hall. She turned and gave me a weak smile as they left.

I closed the door behind them and flopped down on the bed on my stomach. I rested my upper body on my elbows to avoid squashing my breasts under me, and settled my chin on my intertwined hands.

Four of them that we know of, I mused, and wielding enough power to totally reshuffle reality on a whim. I should have tried to shuffle it back as long as I had her here. Maybe I should go and --

"I'm afraid it won't help." A familiar female voice came from the pile of stuffed animals at the foot of the bed, and a worn purple bear in a lavender skirt pulled her way out of the pile.

I smiled. "Well, isn't that a blast from the past. I'm glad I kept that bear."

The bear straightened her skirt and sat down next to me.

"As are we. This form brings back fond memories of our earliest meetings, Becca. We are happy it is still here to inhabit." There was a short companionable silence.

"So ... why won't it help?" I rolled over and sat cross-legged on the bed. "Why can't I try to transform her back?"

"Oh, you can try, but this is an unusual situation. Usually a transformation can't be reversed unless you know how it was done, exactly. We have given you the ability to ... I believe you call it 'reverse engineering?' You can deconstruct most magical spells and incantations and create 'anti-spells' to counter them. But whatever they did to her used a different type of magic -- one that reconstructs reality and actively fights any attempt to reverse its effects." The bear's voice held disapproval. "It's something we haven't seen since long before the Roman Empire — a form of sorcery that was particularly dangerous, even in the hands of highly trained and educated mages. In the hands of a group of middle-school girls with revenge on their minds, the results could be catastrophic."

"And why doesn't the Omnipresence step in and take it from them?"

"Free will," the bear replied crossly. "That delicate balance between Chance and History. Events conspired somehow to put it in their hands, and if The Omnipresence acted directly against them, it would create repercussions that could seriously undermine The Master Plan ... or so I'm told. The Omnipresence does not choose to break its own rules lightly. Doing so would unravel decades -- if not centuries -- of meticulous work. That's part of why it empowered you."

"Because I can also exercise free will against those who wield this kind of power?"

The bear nodded. "You are the wild card in The Omnipresence's deck. If you triumph, it will be because your will, your knowledge, and your judgment will lead you to victory."

"Terrific. So ... how do I fix this?" I asked, looking down at the bear. She in turn looked down at her stubby paws.

"Frankly, we're at a loss," she said sadly. "From its use in the distant past, it requires some kind of focal point ... a talisman or idol, as well as knowledge of the correct way to address the powers involved. Unfortunately, the focal point can be nearly anything, as long as it has been permeated with the proper essense."

"Can't the Omnipresence tell us what it is and where?"

The bear managed to pout with its stitched-on mouth. "The Omnipresence does not deal directly with anyone. And giving us information that might help us could jeopardize --"

"--the delicate balance between Chance and History. I know, I know." I flopped backward and rolled over onto my tummy facing the Arbiter. "For someone all-knowing, all-seeing, and all-powerful, the Creator of all Things seems perpetually ham-strung by its own rules."

"Hmmmmm." The bear stroked its chin with a stubby paw. "Just as a good scientist is constrained by the scientific method. Look at it this way. The Omnipresence is attempting to ... change the universe 'in flight' as it were. It is constantly juggling people and events to influence the choices made by the inhabitants of the Universe as they move forward towards the future. The result of all these choices is a future built by everyone to fit the Creator's Plan. And the only way to achieve the Plan properly is by allowing the inhabitants to exercise their free will ... freely. The Omnipresence obeys its own rules to achieve its own goals. By breaking them, it only defeats itself. You see?"

"So in other words, we're on our own."

"Essentially, yes."

###

I spent an hour chewing on it after the Arbiters had gone. Every minute I spent just made me more frustrated. I'm supposed to be so powerful, I growled at myself. I'm supposed to help her. How can I help her if I don't know where to start?

With a heavy sigh, I pushed it to the back of my mind and pulled my backpack over. I had homework. Not as easy as I'd hoped, but easier than it had a right to be for a thirteen-year-old girl. I guess learning all this stuff before doesn't mean I've got easy access this time around, I grumbled. I took a glance at the clock, and wondered when the new Heather had to get home. She might have a curfew on a school night, and I didn't want her to get in trouble because she forgot she was a teenaged girl, instead of a guy used to coming and going as he pleased.

I wandered out into the living room to find Jeremy and Heather cuddled up on the sofa watching an episode of Firefly. I stopped for a second to watch them, and sighed. They looked good together, and happy. It seemed a shame to ruin the moment. But if Heather got grounded for being late, it would be harder to help her. She'd be confined to quarters, unable to move freely.

"Hey, girlfriend," I said softly. They both looked at me. "When do you need to get home?"

All of the color drained from her face at once, and she shivered. Jeremy cuddled her tighter.

"Cold, hon?" he asked. She shook her head quickly and looked back at me.

"Please excuse me for a second, Jer?" Heather asked. "I need to talk to Becca about something."

He gave her a quick squeeze. "Sure, Heather. Hurry back!"

She rose from the couch and grabbed my arm, hustling me back down the hall. When we reached my room, she shut the door quickly and leaned against it. Tears were already falling.

"Becca, I can't go home!"

"Sure you can," I said softly. "Nothing to worry about. They'll just see you as everyone else sees you, as a girl."

"THAT's the problem!" She ran across and threw herself on the bed.

"What do you mean?"

Heather's face was buried in my bedspread. "There is no 'they,' Becca. Just me and Dad."

"So your Dad will --"

"NO!" She lifted her head and looked at me. "You don't get it yet. When I ... was Hunter, he used to hit me all the time. Just punch me around, you know? Because he could."

That explains a lot, I thought.

"My Dad drinks. A lot. And he buys porn ... stacks and stacks of it. He doesn't like me pawing through it, but I've seen some of the mags around. High School Hotties, Teen Queens, Young Meat ..."

In the back of my mind, pieces began to fit together. And I didn't like the picture they made. I started shaking my head.

Heather nodded. "It's why I couldn't go home before. Why I couldn't even think about it. I know he wants to ... he LIKES teenaged girls, Becca. And if he hit me all the time when I was Hunter, just because he could ... what do you think he'll do to Heather? What does he already do to Heather?"

She moaned and curled up in a ball on my bedspread.

"If I go back, I'll act just like Heather would around him. If I used to let him hit me, then Heather will ... will ... NO! I won't go back. I can't!"

I went over and put my arms on her back. I could feel her quivering.

"It's okay, Heather," I said. "It'll be okay."

And it will be, I thought grimly, patting her gently while my blood ran cold. THIS I can do. Nothing mystical about it. No fuzzy areas to worry about, no 'delicate balance of Chance and History.' He beat Hunter and raped Heather, and no one ever noticed? He's done hurting her. I'm going to stop it. Now. Tonight.

And it will be a pleasure.

© 2005-2006 as a work in progress, all rights reserved. Posted with permission of the author.

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To Be Continued...