Fugue, Part One
By Jillian

Chapter One
Tanya had barely entered the reception area of her doctor's office when she heard her name called. After making her way to the front desk she asked, “You called me?”

Looking up from her computer screen, the receptionist replied, “Yes, Miss Taylor. The doctor is ready for you.”

“Thanks,” Tanya responded as she reached for the door knob. After passing through the door and into the hallway she found her way to Dr. Sanchez' office.

She gently knocked a couple of times before gingerly opening the door and entering the office. As quietly as she could, she headed for the sofa where she usually sat for their sessions and then silently watched as the doctor tended to some paperwork.

As soon as she was finished writing some notes in another patient's chart, the doctor joined Tanya, sitting directly across from her in a leather wingback chair that just screamed 'shrink'. As she did so, she took a moment to open her note pad and lay a couple of pens with it, just in case she needed to make any notes for when she would be filling out charts later.

“So, hows the world been treating you?” the doctor asked Tanya, with a smile.

Shifting slightly in her seat, Tanya responded, “If I complained, no one would listen.”

“Why do you say that?”

Thinking for a moment, Tanya said, “Nothing. I was just kidding.”

“Nope,” Dr. Sanchez argued. “Not buying it. What's wrong?”

Sighing, Tanya admitted, “I just feel like I'm not making any headway toward my goal.”

“Of course you are,” Dr. Sanchez argued.

“Okay,” Tanya began her response. “Let me put it this way then. I feel like I'm stuck on a plateau of sorts. I'm not going backwards or anything, but I'm not making much progress either.”

“I don't necessarily think that's the case.”

Tanya took a calming breath before stating, “I'm just tired of not being able to live my life the way I want to.”

“All right,” Dr. Sanchez responded. “Let's look at this from the other side for a moment. What is standing in your way? What's preventing you from reaching your goal?”

After thinking for a moment Tanya replied, “Fear, mainly.”

“How so?”

“I'm afraid of what would happen with my work and I'm particularly afraid of what would happen with my family.”

Dr. Sanchez made a note on her pad then looked directly into Tanya's eyes and calmly said, “Face those fears, then.”

Shaking her head, Tanya responded, “Easier said than done.”

“Let's take them one at a time then.” Dr. Sanchez asked, “Why haven’t you talked to your family about this?”

Looking rather defensive, Tanya asked, “Why? Why do you think?”

“I don't know,” countered Dr. Sanchez. “That's why I asked.”

Tanya stared at the doctor for a moment before finally saying, “Look, I've always know how my father thought about people like me. It's not like he ever hid his prejudices or anything.”

Making another note, Dr. Sanchez asked, “Does he know?”

“I don't think so,” Tanya replied. “At least he's never said anything specifically directed toward me. I just know how he used to gripe about all the 'weirdos' he had to deal with in his job.”

“Well,” she started, “I think my mom would probably be okay with it, but my dad and brother? No way.”

“What makes you say that?”

Pausing for a moment to compose her thoughts, Tanya finally replied, “They’re very much ‘men’s men’, ya know? Bobby’s a police detective and Dad’s an ex-cop too. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard them talk bad about ‘those damned trannies’ as they put it.”

“And how does that make you feel?” she asked. “When you hear that kind of talk?”
“Part of me is embarrassed because secretly I'm wondering if they're talking about me. Then I get a little angry, first at them for acting that way, then finally at myself for one, letting them get to me and two, for caring about what they think in the first place.”

“Sounds like you actually have a pretty good handle on that one then. The doctor then let a little grin creep onto her mouth as she continued, “Other than the whole letting your anger get the better of you, that is.”

She took a sip of water before continuing, “Mom sort of knows, I think. I mean, she knows I’ve always been feminine. She even knows I used to dress up in her clothes when I was a kid, but we’ve never, ever talked about it. I’m kind of afraid to broach the subject with them.”

“What is it you’re afraid of? Are you really that scared that they’ll disown you? Become violent?” asked the doctor.

“Yes, I really am. Well, not the violent part, but you know what I mean. I’m seriously afraid that I’d lose my family forever and I don’t think I could stand that.” Taking a moment before continuing, she finally added, “And let’s not even start talking about what would happen with my work.

“I don’t think I’d lose all my gigs, but I’m pretty sure at least some of them would drop me. Some of these places aren’t exactly bastions of forward thinking, if you know what I mean.”

Tanya paused again, waiting to see if the doctor had another question, but when she realized there wasn’t one coming she continued, “I guess I’ll just have to continue with the status quo for the foreseeable future.”

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“No, but I’m afraid of what might happen if I go down that road.”
Making a note on the pad in her lap, Dr. Sanchez said, “But we’ve been down this road before. There’s no way to know what would happen before taking that step.”

Looking at her patient for a moment, Dr. Sanchez eventually said, “You know, you are more passable than most other GID patients.” Deciding to press forward she continued, “It may seem a little out of place for me to be saying this, but I suspect if you’d actually talk to them they might surprise you.”

Feeling a little bit like a child who'd just been chastised, Tanya reluctantly responded, “I know, I know. I’m working on it.”
“So let’s do this,” the doctor said, wrapping up the session. “Try to talk to them. I think if you could do that, then there would be no barriers to you moving on to the next step.”

Staring at the doctor for a moment, Tanya eventually replied, “Okay, I'll try Doc, but...” She let the thought die away uncompleted.

Seeing Tanya's increasing discomfort with the direction of their discussion, Dr. Sanchez decided to shift topics a bit, saying, “I just took a look at your blood work and everything seems fine,” the doctor said as certainly as she could. “Feeling all right? Any problems with mood swings?”
Tanya seemed a bit uncomfortable with the question before finally saying, “No worse than usual, I guess. I mean, at this point I should be used to it, right?”
Grinning, the doctor commented, “Well, HRT does tend to do that. Have you given any more thought to starting your real life test?”

“Every day, really. Unfortunately, I just can’t bring myself to broach the subject with my family and until then…” her voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

As both women stood up and started toward the office door, Dr. Sanchez said, “I'll see you next week at our regular time, all right?”

Tanya said, “Thanks.” With that she walked out the door and headed home to get ready for work…

Chapter Two

Charlie was barely inside the door to his apartment before he reached for the answering machine to listen to the message the flashing light told him was waiting.

“...Charlie, this is Carla. Just wanted to check what time you want to pick me up tonight? Call me back, okay?”

He immediately picked up the receiver and after looking at the notepad by the phone to check on the number, returned Carla's call.

On the third ring she answered, “Hey there.”

“Carla? This is Charlie, returning your call.”

“Hey Charlie. Yeah, I was wondering what time you'd like me to be ready and also should I dress up?”

“Dress up? Yes,” he replied. “We have reservations for seven, so how about if I pick you up around six thirty?”

She exuberantly responded, “Absolutely! I'll see you then. Now, I'd probably best get off of here so I can get ready.”

“I'll see you then. Bye,” Charlie said, ending the call. After replacing the receiver he said to himself, “Best get a move on, then.”

On his way back out the door, he looked at his watch and commented, “Three hours.” He then hurried to his car and drove to a nearby thrift store.

Charlie had a myriad of rituals that he always went through when preparing for one of his “dates”. First on the list was a trip to the thrift store, where he bought slacks and a dress shirt that he intended to wear that evening. Once those articles of clothing had been acquired, he would then return to his apartment to begin his preparations for the evening's festivities.

Many of these 'rituals' made perfect sense to anyone who happened to find out about them, like the long shower which included multiple shampoos plus conditioner, or his habit of brushing his teeth twice and using mouthwash both in between rounds and immediately after to make absolutely certain that he had fresh breath. Then again, some seemed a bit more unusual, like his habit of shaving off every hair below his ears followed by using a pumice stone to remove as much dead skin as possible from his body.

Those little eccentricities, while seeming just a bit odd to most people, were in fact born out of his desire to maintain anonymity while pursuing his 'quest'. He reasoned that by minimizing the possibility that he might leave behind physical evidence linking him to his activities, he decreased the chance of being discovered.

He pulled on the clothes he had purchased just a few hours previously. As was often the case, he'd even gone so far as to buy a pair of shoes that could easily be disposed of at the end of the night. So after adding those to his outfit, he stood in front of the mirror fussing with his hair one last time before moving on to the next phase, which consisted of confirming that his vehicle was ready for the evening's activities.

Climbing behind the wheel of his restored Cadillac Coupe de Ville, he began going through his ritual checklist. Under the driver's seat, he first reached down in front to confirm a length of rope then between the seat and the door he felt for his rather large knife. Then above his visor he pulled out the cloth rag he intended to use as a gag, if necessary.

For several minutes he carried on checking on his numerous hiding places to ensure that absolutely everything was ready. When finally satisfied, he set out on his way to pick up his 'companion' for the evening.

As he pulled out of his parking space he said to himself, “This is gonna be great!”

Chapter Three

Bob was sitting at his desk filling out the mountains of paperwork that went along with the job of being a police detective when his shift commander stuck his head out of his office door and called, “Taylor?”

Bob looked up from his work and as he rose from his desk, he replied, “Be right there, Cap.” He made his way into his superior’s office and asked, “What’s up?”

Looking up from his own pile of papers, the captain said, “Just wanted to check in with you on that murder investigation. How’s it going?”

Bob started, “As if there was any doubt before, I think it's safe to assume we're dealing with a serial killer here. Everything has just been too similar.”

“Do we have anything useful yet that might lead us to the killer?”

“So far, the only connection we’ve been able to find between the victims has been the fact they’re all trannies, Cap. I mean, it wasn’t until the third and fourth victims that we knew these were anything other than simple random murders where the victims just happened to be transgendered. And even now we're having some difficulty being able to find anything else that connected them. In each case, the mode of killing was just different enough that it took a while to tie them all together.”

Bob took a moment before continuing with the impromptu briefing. “After going back over all of the evidence we have been able to find DNA evidence at all of the crime scenes, but so far nothing has shown up in any databases linking it with a known perp.”

“Any ideas?”

“Well, the biggest question right now really is how he’s finding his victims. At the moment I'm thinking of staking out establishments that are known to cater to these types of individuals, then I thought I'd check out some of the personals papers and boards to see if maybe that’s how he’s doing it, but…” Bob stopped short of completing that thought, waiting for the captain to add something to the conversation. When nothing proved to be forthcoming Bob added, “If there isn’t anything else, sir, I’d like to get back to it.”

“Yes, of course,” the captain said as Bob turned and left the office, returning to his desk to complete his paperwork.

Chapter Four

Carla was just putting the finishing touches on her makeup when the doorbell rang. She quickly took one last look in the mirror wishing she looked more feminine before heading for the door to greet her gentleman caller.

Opening the door she smiled and said, “You must be Charlie.”

He looked her up and down before responding, “That would be me. And you’re Carla.”

“Would you like to come in for a drink?” she asked as she swung the door open fully and stepped aside to allow him to enter.

Without speaking he smiled and walked into the apartment, handing her a small bouquet of flowers as she closed the door behind him.

“Thank you so much!” she gushed as she sniffed them.

“You’re welcome,” he replied as his smile seemed to morph into something more closely resembling a sneer.

Taking the flowers into her kitchen, she found a vase and ran some water into it before placing the bouquet into it. Carrying them into the living room, she set them down on the coffee table, saying, “Make yourself at home. What can I get for you?”

Sitting down on the couch, he said, “A beer?”

“I’ll be right back,” she stated as she returned to the kitchen to get their drinks.

As he watched her leave the room, Charlie thought, ‘This will be a good night.’ Then before she came back carrying their drinks he made sure to turn back so she wouldn’t know he’d been watching her as she left.

“Here ya go,” she said handing him a glass of beer.

“Thanks,” he said as he took it from her. He took a long draw from the glass, then returned his attention to his date, saying, “I made reservations for seven, so we have a few minutes before we have to head out.”

Sitting down next to him, Carla took a sip of her drink as she watched Charlie take another drink of his. ‘Wow’ she thought not believing her luck in finding a man who appreciated girls like her. She then asked, “So where are we going?”

Finishing off his drink he responded, “Antonio’s, if that’s all right?”

“Great!” she said happily. After taking another sip of her own drink, Carla got up and picked up his empty glass from the table where he’d just set it, saying, “Just let me get my coat.” Taking the glasses back to the kitchen, she placed them in the sink.

Charlie rose from the couch and made his way back to the door as she retrieved her jacket from the coat rack. Helping her on with it, they then left the apartment on their way to the restaurant.

Chapter Five

Since leaving her therapist's office, Tanya had been unable to focus on anything other than what they'd discussed during her session. It certainly wasn't that she didn't want to go down that road. Far from it. In fact, she couldn't think of anything in the world she'd like more than to be able to begin her real life test.

Unfortunately, every time she got anywhere near seriously considering going ahead and doing so a little voice in the back of her head started throwing out all the negative arguments she'd ever thought of on the subject. She'd been over this subject in her head so many times she thought if someone could eavesdrop on her thoughts they'd probably think they'd tapped into a championship level debate, she'd become so familiar with all of the arguments both for and against.

It was in the middle of yet another one of these silent debates that Tanya found herself drifting off into la la land before being rudely interrupted by her phone alarm which told her it was time to start getting ready for work. “Is it really that late?” she asked herself before heading into the bathroom to start getting ready.

Tanya was staring at her image in the mirror as she removed her makeup, thinking, ‘I need to hurry up if I’m going to make it.’ Once satisfied that all traces of her feminine self were removed, she went to the closet and took out her male clothes and quickly got dressed before heading out to work, picking up her guitar case on the way out the door.

Gently placing the case in the back seat of his car, Tom then climbed behind the wheel and began his trek to work.

Chapter Six

Carla began nervously thinking, ‘This isn’t the way to Antonio’s’ as Charlie pulled his car into a secluded alley way and turned off the engine. “What’s…” she started to ask, but before she was able to complete the thought he had his hands around her neck and began choking her.

He sneered at her as he said, “This won’t hurt nearly as much if you don’t fight.” She hit as his arms and tried to kick him, but quickly lost her battle with both her assailant and consciousness.

Continuing to grip her neck until all life had left her body, he then reached across the car and opened the passenger side door as he carelessly pushed the body out into the alley. After pulling the door closed he calmly started the car and drove off, confident that he’d again rid the world of one of ‘those’ people.

Chapter Seven

Tom sat in his car for a few minutes before going inside. Just to be certain, before getting out he flipped down the vanity mirror on the sun visor and checked to ensure there were no little flakes of mascara still hanging around his eyes. Once satisfied, he got out of his car and pulled his acoustic guitar out of the back seat and the small portable PA system out of the trunk before making his way to the club entrance.

He entered the club and felt his heart sink as he saw how few people were there. ‘Ah well,’ he thought as he unpacked his beloved J-200. ‘Maybe a few more will show up later.’ He wasn’t, however, counting on that.

After setting up and making certain the PA was working properly, he made his way to the bar where his drink was waiting for him even before he had reached where the bartender stood. Picking up the glass and taking a sip, Tom said, “Ah, you remembered.”

“Not hard,” replied the bartender. “Not many come in here and drink nothing but diet coke.”

“Fair enough,” Tom added. “Things been this quiet all evening?”

“All week is more like it.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

Wiping at the bar with a bar mop, the bartender responded, “Not your fault. It’s always slow this time of year.”

“Yeah,” commented Tom. “We’ll just have to see if we can do anything to keep the ones that are here interested.”

“Sounds like a plan,” finished the bartender before turning his attention to someone sitting at the other end.

Tom then returned to the stage area where he settled in to begin his first set. He played a couple of tentative notes on his guitar to check the tuning, then without saying anything to the assembled audience began playing his first selection of the night.

As he played the introduction, he couldn’t help but notice that the nearly empty bar seemed even more depressing than usual. It was nights like this when he had to inwardly say ‘to hell with it’ and just play for himself.

He sang the opening lines of his favorite Robben Ford tune, “My, my, my…Baby, you’re my cup of tea…My, my, my…Lovin’ what you’re doin’ to me…” and maybe he was imagining things, but he would swear the old drunks sitting at the bar acted like they actually noticed what he was doing for once.

The idea that someone was actually paying attention pushed him to give that little bit extra; not that he would have just phoned the gig in. As much as anything he had this pride thing going that pushed him to do his best no matter what. That being said, it was always easier to be motivated if others were paying attention.

If only that attention could’ve lasted. Before too long even his mind was wandering, mostly mulling over things he’d been discussing with his therapist earlier in the day.

Chapter Eight

Detective Taylor ducked under the yellow tape marking the crime scene under investigation and made his way toward the other gathered officers. As he approached, he noticed several glancing toward him before returning their attention to the work at hand.

Addressing a uniformed officer with sergeant’s stripes on his arm, Detective Taylor asked, “So what do we have here?”

Looking up, the sergeant replied, “You’re the detective.”

“Gee thanks, Sarge.” Turning his attention to the medical examiner knelt over the body, Detective Taylor asked, “Doc?”

Standing up and turning toward the detective, the medical examiner replied,“Looks like number five, Bob.”

Feeling his stomach churn at that news, he responded, “So she’s…?”

“Packin’ a little somethin’ extra under her skirt? Yeah.”

Bob added sarcastically, “Never would’ve guessed.”

“Yeah well.” Zipping the remains in a body bag, the medical examiner added, “I’ll have a complete report for you after I finish the post mortem, but I’d say the preliminary evidence is pretty conclusive. Any leads yet?”

Bob frowned before saying, “Nothing solid. I mean, so far all we know is that all the victims were trannies. There’s no telling why this guy’s doing this. Maybe he’s a frustrated fruit who’s jealous that he can’t look as good as his victims. Or maybe he’s some zealot who thinks he’s doing God’s work by ridding the world of some perverts. I guess we won’t know until we catch the guy.”

The medical examiner, with Bob’s assistance loaded the body onto a gurney and rolled it over to his van where they loaded it into the back. Once the doors were closed, the doctor said, “I’m going to get a little rest after I drop this one off at the morgue. It’ll probably be afternoon before I have a report for you.”

Bob shook the doctor’s hand and replied, “I’ll stop by your office some time tomorrow afternoon then. Here’s hoping this guy made a mistake and left us more evidence this time.”

“Yeah, here’s hoping,” added the doctor before going around the van and climbing into the driver’s seat. Seconds later he was leaving the scene.

Bob stood there silently for a few seconds watching the van pull away before returning his attention to the sergeant. “Any other evidence?”

The sergeant turned his attention back to the detective and said, “’Fraid not. The crime scene is pretty clean. You won’t get much help here.”

Disappointed, Bob responded sarcastically, “Great.”

Chapter Nine

As Tom wandered into his apartment, the first thing he noticed was the blinking light on the answering machine. After setting down his guitar case he made his way to the machine and hit the playback button: “Hey little bro, we still on for lunch tomorrow? I know it’ll be real late when you get in, so call me when you rejoin the living in the morning, okay?”

“Guess it’s a good thing Bobby called,” Tom said to himself. “I’d forgotten all about lunch tomorrow.” With that he began stripping off his clothes as he wandered toward the bathroom where he started the shower running and got his things together while the water warmed up.

He washed and conditioned his hair and used a lovely smelling moisturizing body wash before getting out of the shower and patting himself dry, then blow drying his rather long hair. Finally, hair pulled up into a ponytail tied up with a scrunchie, Tom…or as she usually preferred, Tanya…slipped into a nightgown and curled up with a book for a few minutes before heading off to bed.

Once in bed, she couldn't help thinking about all of the things she'd discussed with her therapist earlier in the day. Her mind was racing, causing her to have problems getting to sleep so she simply lay there with her mind running at something just short of mach two while she stared at the shadows cast by the tree outside her window onto the ceiling. It was a long time before she finally drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Ten

Cynthia stumbled through her apartment door, kicking off her high heels before the door was even closed. She swayed unsteadily as she made her way to the bathroom, gradually stripping off her club clothes along the way. By the time she was facing the large lavatory mirror a string of overtly sexy clothing was strewn about the small apartment.

“You know,” she began talking to herself as she applied cold cream to her face, “Sometimes I wonder if I'm getting a little old for the club scene?” She then washed the cold cream off before rubbing in her moisturizer and brushing out her hair.

Once her hair was pulled back and loosely braided, she removed the chandelier earrings and returned them to her jewelry box before turning her attention to the least comfortable part of her bedtime preparations. Taking a deep breath, she reached down and quickly yanked off the tape that had been holding her small but clearly defined male genitalia safely tucked away where it could remain undetected through all but the most diligent of searches.

That job done, Cynthia slipped into her favorite sleep shirt and climbed into bed, practically falling asleep before her head hit the pillow...

To Be Continued...