A man loves his long-time friend from childhood, but she doesn't — and can't — love him. He thinks that Operation Rescue will give him a way to remedy the problem, but he's unaware of what that will mean to him, his job and friends, and his whole being — if he gets accepted into the program.

As usual, I would like to express my sincerest thanks to my editors for improving, fine-tuning, and helping this story be better. Any mistakes or errors left are my own fault.

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Operation Rescue: The Things We Do For Love

This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Ron MacLaird sipped his wine, as he stared admiringly at his dinner companion, seated across the table from him. "So, how was work today?" he asked, making idle chatter.

His dining companion, a lithe woman of about twenty-four, smiled at him. Her smile was enchanting; it was easy to understand why she'd won high-school beauty pageants. "The usual. Lots of paperwork, reviewing trade studies, and in the end, very little was accomplished."

Ron laughed. "I don't see how you can put up with it month after month."

Jennifer Callahan laughed. "And I suppose you have it better?"

Ron sighed. "Not really," he answered, as he gazed at Jen. She was, to Ron, the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. She was a tall woman, built like an athlete — slender and perfectly trim. Her auburn hair was done in a neat French braid, and she, too, wore the business casual uniform, but in her case, it was the female version — stylish pants and a casual but office-appropriate blouse, with a hint of lace trim around the buttons and a neckline that didn't dip too low. Not that Jen would have had to worry about a blouse being too revealing; she had modest breasts that were, for her, just right.

In comparison, he thought of himself as quite average. He was a little shorter than average — perhaps five foot eight, and moderately well built, with sandy-blonde hair that was usually just a bit unkempt. He was dressed neatly in the standard business-casual uniform — pants and a polo shirt. Like Jennifer, he was a software engineer, albeit for a different company.

The pair had a habit of meeting at least once every week for dinner after work, usually at Francesco's, a quaint little Italian restaurant and bar. They sat in a corner table, far enough from the boisterous crowd at the bar that conversation was possible. Unlike many venues, Francesco - there really was a Francesco! - hated the idea of big-screen televisions distracting his patrons. The atmosphere was warm and friendly. Without the distractions of various music videos or sporting events so common in bars, conversation was more likely. In the background, light instrumental Italian music filled the air, adding a friendly, homey touch to the place. It had a quaint, authentically Italian feel to it, an intimacy that was lost in so many of his competitors.

Jen sipped her white wine. "Rumor has it from your game-day friends that you're dating the receptionist." She had a bemused expression, as she watched for his reaction.

Ron frowned. "Come on, Jen," he protested. "I'm not interested in that type of girl."

"Why not?" Jen continued. "She's _really_ cute, and pretty hot if you ask me! You could have a few fun dates with her!" She grinned.

"She's not my type," Ron explained for the thousandth time. It was a running gag that Jennifer was going to tease Ron about dating. "I'm not into airhead receptionist types, no matter how big their ... busts."

"Well, then," Jen continued, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "maybe _I_ should ask her out! I happen to like girls with big knockers! I bet she's a wildcat in bed."

Jen's comment cut Ron to the heart. She saw the pained expression on his face, despite his efforts to hide it. Jen put her hand on Ron's. "Look, Ron, you _know_ what I am. I can't help it if I think she's cute and sexy."

Ron lowered his gaze and stared into his wine glass. "You _know_ how I feel," he complained bitterly. "You know that I think you're the only girl for me."

Jen nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Ron looked up, into her perfect green Irish eyes. "I know. And I could never stay mad at you."

Jen knew the look only too well. "Ron, please don't."

"We've known each other since we were kids," Ron continued. "We've done _everything_ together — climbing trees, racing our bikes, building a tree house."

"Playing house when my mom wouldn't let me go outside and do fun stuff," Jen chimed in.

Ron blushed. "I was hoping you'd forgotten that."

Jen grinned. "You were so sweet. You've always been like a brother."

"I wish I wasn't a brother," Ron said, sad-faced. "You know ..."

Jen scowled and shook her head. " Ron, please stop! You know that I love you like a brother, and I can't ever love you any other way! You know my ... preferences."

Ron pouted. "I can't help it," he said softly. "I grew up with you. A long time ago, I realized that you're the only girl I'll ever truly love."

Jen reached across the table and touched him gently on the cheek. "Dearest Ron," she said with a sad smile, "You're my very best friend in the world, but you know I can never be ... physically ... intimate with you! Not ... the way things are!"

Ron dropped his gaze, staring forlornly into his wine glass. "I wish you liked guys," he said softly.

Jen sighed. "Sometimes, so do I," she said. "God knows, I've tried." She laughed with irony. "Remember that time I got really drunk," she said, "and I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could get up the nerve to seduce you?"

Ron nodded slowly. "I remember. And I remember that, even totally hammered, you couldn't ... you know." He shook his head. "I wish there was a way."

**********

Ron sat in his easy chair sipping a beer. For some reason, he just wasn't into the game. His friends, whooping and cheering around him, seemed oblivious. It was Ron's turn to host the game-day party, and, as usual, Bill, Chad, Mark, and Ted were all there, drinking beer, eating the snacks, and having a good time.

Ron held the door for the guys to file out. The game was over, the post-game show was over, and the beer and snacks were all gone. It was time to leave. He glanced around the room. It was going to take a bit to clean up the mess. It always did.

"See you next week?" Ted said cheerfully as he paused in the doorway. "My place?"

"Sure," Ron answered unenthusiastically.

Bill was next. His gait was far less steady; he'd clearly had too much to drink. "Don't worry," Bill kept reassuring the guys, "I'm taking the subway."

Chad nodded approvingly. "A man's got to know his limits," he said with a laugh. He glanced at Ron, then stepped back into Ron's apartment, sidestepping Mark. "I'll give you a hand cleaning up," he offered.

"Thanks," Ron said gratefully. He shut the door behind Mark before surveying the damage. "It's really not that bad. Not like the last Super Bowl!"

Chad grinned at the memory. "Tell me about it! That was some party."

'Yeah." Ron sighed heavily, as he looked around again before sinking back into his chair.

"Man," Chad said, sitting on the sofa, "I've seen you down before, but never like this. Are you okay?"

Ron didn't have to think. "No."

"So what's up?" Chad pried.

"It's Jen," Ron confessed. "I tried to talk to her, but she ...." He just shook his head, unable to continue.

"Man, you're _never_ going to score points with Jen," Chad chided. "She's a lez!"

Ron nodded sadly. " But she's my best friend! We grew up together! We did everything together! I thought that counted for something."

Chad shook his head sadly. "Nope. Not for her. Not unless you can magically change into a broad!" He saw that his joke had no effect on Ron's mood. If anything, this exchange explained much of Ron's lack of enthusiasm for their usual game day party. "You going to be okay?" Chad asked, concerned for his friend.

"She's the only girl for me," Ron said sadly, barely looking up. "I can't go on without her."

"Whoa, dude!" Chad recoiled in horror at his words. "You're not going to do something ... stupid, are you?"

Ron sat silently, staring blankly across the room. For several long seconds, a pin-drop would have been loud. "No," Ron finally said, "I don't think so."

Chad let out a breath of relief. "Dude, if you get really feeling like doing something bat-crap crazy, give me a call, okay?"

Ron didn't look up from his blank stare.

"Okay?"

Ron blinked. "Okay." His tone wasn't reassuring.

**********

"I promise I won't talk about ... that ... again," Ron said, gazing across the table at Jen.

"Okay," Jen said, feeling a little better. "I've had a hell of a week. How about you?"

Ron shrugged. "Same old, same old."

Jen laughed. "I wish I had a boring routine like you do. We've got some pretty demanding customers, and the new installations aren't going as easily as we'd like. Sales and support are both hammering us!"

Ron nodded sympathetically. "I've had my turn with that. In fact, we're going to be gearing up for a new updated version in a couple of months, so the shoe will be on the other foot."

Jen giggled. "Sorry, but I don't think you'd look good in my heels!"

Ron cracked a smile — the first one of the evening. "Been busy otherwise?"

"Beth took me to a movie the other night," Jen admitted. As soon as she'd spoken the words, she realized what she'd said, she added quickly, "Don't pout. It was just a fling." She sighed. "I just can't seem to find anyone that I want a long-term relationship with."

Ron stared at her for a moment before his gaze dropped back to his glass. "I wish I were a girl so _I_ could be the one dating you," he whispered softly. He hadn't intended that Jen should hear him. A coincidental lull in both the crowd noise and the background music, though, allowed Jen to hear every word.

"What? You wish _what_?" She was completely surprised by what she thought she'd heard.

Ron blushed. "Nothing," he tried to pretend he hadn't said anything important.

"No," Jen wasn't about to let his comment go. "You said you wished you were a girl so _you_ could date me," she said sternly. "Right?"

Ron nodded grimly. "The other day, Chad said the only way you'd ever love me is if some magic wand turned me into a girl." He shook his head. "Damn, it sounds silly. Stupid even."

When Jen didn't say anything, Ron looked up. She had a curious expression. "Are you serious?" she asked.

Ron nodded slowly. "Jen, I've loved you for a long time. I knew, way back, that I'd do anything for you." He laughed at his comment. "But unless you're a witch, that's impossible."

"What if I told you that it isn't?" Jen asked enigmatically, with a curious expression on her face.

Ron's eyes widened. "Are you suggesting sex change surgery?"

Jen shook her head. "Not quite. SRS is just cosmetic." She took out her smartphone and pulled out, after a bit of browsing on-line, she smiled. "Here," she said, handing the phone to Ron.

Ron scanned the phone display, his eyes widening as he did so. "This ... this doesn't sound like ...." He frowned. "What the hell is this?"

"It's a program to help unborn babies avoid abortion," Jen explained.

Ron wrinkled his nose. "I don't get what that has to do with ...."

Jen grasped the phone and turned it slightly so she could see as well. "There," she said, pointing to a spot on the web page she'd found. "That's what I'm talking about."

Ron read the page aloud. "Male volunteers can be adoption facilitators as well." He looked at Jen. "So? It sounds like an office job. What does that have to do with ... us?"

Jen sighed. "Sometimes, you can be so dense!" she fussed. "I called to check on it. An adoption facilitator is a host womb for the baby that would otherwise be aborted."

"Okay," Ron said hesitantly, before he scanned the document more. "I can see that, maybe. I think I've heard of Morris and Henderson; aren't they the top bananas in the biomedical arena?"

Jen nodded. "They've perfected a means to transfer a fetus from one mother to another. In this case, if the first mother were going to abort the baby, the host mother would finish carrying it to term so it could be adopted."

Ron shook his head. "That's all well and good, but ...." His brow wrinkled. "Hey, wait! Aren't those the two guys who perfected organ cloning, too?"

Jen smiled. "You're almost there."

"And, by supposition, that would mean a male volunteer ...." Ron's eyes widened with surprise. He slowly realized the totality of what Jen had been trying to tell him. "So it _is_ sex change surgery. With cloned organs? Which would make the ... person ... a fully functional woman who could carry a baby to term?"

Jen clapped. "Congratulations! It only took you two and a half minutes to figure that one out!"

Ron ignored her barb. "That's ... weird."

"As weird as asking a lesbian to fall in love with a straight man?" Jen asked.

Ron started to answer, but he paused, his mouth half-open. "It's ...."

Jen sighed. "Ron, I love you as a friend. You've always been my best friend. I know you want more, but I can't give it to you, not like this. We tried, remember? I really tried to love you as more than a friend, but I can't get past your gender — not sexually. This might be the only way we can both have what we want." She put her hands on his. "If you want me as a lover, this is the only way I can think of. I can't change!"

Ron leaned back in his chair. "Wow," he mouthed softly. "This is .... wow!" He shook his head. "Become a woman? You know what that would mean to my parents, to my friends and co-workers?" He sighed. "That's ... that's too much!"

Jen shrugged. "We can always stay best friends," she said.

Ron closed his eyes and sighed again. "No, we can't," he answered slowly and sadly. "This is killing me. You're my best friend, but I need _more_ than a friend. I'm ... lonely. I need someone to share my life with." He slowly realized where his emotions were taking him, and he wasn't sure he liked the destination. "I feel so ... jealous every time you talk about one of your dates. I feel like it should be _me_ that is with you. I _know_ it should be you."

Jen nodded. "I don't know any other way," she said slowly.

"I don't either," Ron agreed. "But I'm not sure I can ...."

Jen took her phone and fiddled with it a bit. "I sent you the link. But if you don't want it ...."

Ron sighed. "Okay," he said after a long pause. "I'll think about it."

**********

Suzie, the receptionist, watched Ron enter the clinic. He seemed quite pensive, and her mental alarms were going off. Unseen to anyone, she pushed the security button hidden under her desktop. As emotional as the entire abortion debate was, the clinic couldn't afford to take chances.

Ron glanced around, noticing that the waiting room was full of women. His courage was failing him fast.

"Can I help you?" Suzie stood and greeted him. She wore her warmest smile, but it concealed her wariness and suspicion.

"Uh," Ron stammered, "I came in to meet with Dr. McKnight about the program." Ron sounded very uncertain of himself.

Suzie's defenses went down — a bit. "Oh, you must be Mister MacLaird," she said warmly, shaking his hand. "I'm Suzie, Rachel's ... Dr. McKnight's receptionist." She looked at him and smiled. "You know, from the name MacLaird, I kind of had the mental image of a burly, bearded Scotsman."

Ron laughed. "Not me, I'm afraid. However, my Grandpa fit your stereotype to a tee. He wore a kilt everywhere, and he even played the pipes!"

Suzie's warmth and manner with clients was one of the key reasons she held her job. She'd put Ron at ease in just a few seconds. "If you'll have a seat, I'll let Rachel know you're here. She doesn't have a very busy schedule with clients today, so she should be right out." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "She tries to reserve today for doing paperwork, but I schedule in clients to give her a break from all her reports. Otherwise, she can get cranky!" She gave him another smile and returned to her desk.

Ron sat down and glanced through the magazines. He frowned; they were all women's magazines, relating to beauty, pregnancy, and such unmanly topics. He seriously doubted they had a single copy of a sports or high-tech magazine in the clinic. He sighed to himself and picked up one of the magazines who's cover talked about pregnancy. He figured, based on the job description, that it couldn't hurt to learn a little more about the job at hand.

Presently, Rachel emerged from the back of the office. She was of average height, and her face was about average, but her impeccable business suit and perfectly-styled hair made it clear that, if not the director, she was a person of importance in the clinic. Rachel stopped by Suzie's desk, and after a brief hushed conversation, she walked over to where Ron sat.

Ron rose, and extended his hand. "Good day t' ye, ma'am. I'm Ron MacLaird," he said in a thick Scottish brogue.

Rachel looked surprised, and she glanced over at Suzie. Suzie was staring at Ron, baffled.

Ron grinned. "I hope ye dinna mind, but after your receptionist thought I should be a wee bit more Scottish," he said, still in a burr, "I figured I'd give her a wee taste of the true Scot in me."

Rachel smiled. "I don't mind at all," she said. "It's important to have a sense of humor." She gestured toward the back of the clinic. "Would you follow me, please?"

As Ron walked past Suzie, he saw her expression, which seemed to say, "You got me!" He winked at her.

Rachel's office seemed to have two personalities. On the one hand, her formal desk, with a computer, assorted papers, and formal chairs opposite hers was all business. On the other hand, behind her desk to one side was a small couch and two wing chairs, a less formal area. Ron suspected this was for informal discussions or counseling.

Rachel chose the formal setting. "Well, Mister McLaird," she began.

"Ron," he interrupted. "Please call me Ron. It's a little easier."

Rachel nodded. "Only if you call me Rachel," she said.

"Deal."

"How can I help you?" Rachel asked simply.

Ron tried not to show his nervousness. "I want to volunteer," he said simply.

Rachel picked up a pencil and absently twirled it in front of her. "Do you have any idea what the job entails?" she asked, sounding a little stern.

Ron nodded, gulping. "The job is to save a baby that would otherwise be aborted," Ron answered.

Rachel smiled. "That sounds like our ad copy. What does the job _really _entail?"

Ron frowned. "I'm not sure I follow you."

Rachel put down the pencil. "The 'job' is to go through at least five months of pregnancy, with a swollen belly, swollen ankles, painful breasts, sore back, a kicking baby that makes you have to urinate frequently, cramps, possibly throwing up every morning from morning sickness, strange food cravings, and hormones that make your moods shift faster than you can think. Then, when you think you've had enough of that, you start labor, with contractions, pain, and the unpleasantness of childbirth." She watched his reaction. "In your case, it also entails surgery to change you to a fully-functional woman so you can carry the baby. You'll have two or three periods, with cramping and bloating. You'll have your breasts grow from the new female hormones. You'll have a man's mind in a woman's body. Does that sound like an easy job?"

Ron shook his head slightly. "No," he answered softly. "But I want to be a volunteer."

Rachel laughed. "So my speech of horrors didn't scare you off?"

"No."

"Well," Rachel said, as she picked up a pen and began to take notes in a folder, "then let's get to the heart of the issue. Why do you want to do this?"

Ron started to answer, but his thoughts failed him. "I guess I really don't know." In his heart, he knew why, and he also knew that he couldn't tell Rachel the true reason.

"That's a refreshingly honest answer. It can't be for the money. You’ve got a very good job." She watched the surprise on his face as she read from his file. "Are you pro-life? Catholic?"

"Not really," he answered, "but a baby deserves a chance to live."

Rachel felt frustrated. Something didn't feel right about this potential client. "Okay. It's enough of an answer. The next step will be for you to take our psychological test and get a physical."

"Okay," Ron said slowly so as not to appear too nervous. In truth, he was terrified of what was in store for him.

**********

Butterflies filled Ron's stomach. He sat waiting, watching, for Jen to join him. He took another swig of his margarita, hoping desperately that the alcohol would calm his nerves. As he set the glass down, he saw her stepping briskly toward his table.

"What's new?" she asked lightly, scooting herself into a chair.

"Same old, same old," Ron tried to be nonchalant.

"Are you still working the fourteen-hour days?" Jen picked up the menu and lightly browsed while conversing.

"No," Ron said, sounding relieved. "We found the bug and got the patch out last week. I'm back to a normal life."

"Did you guys get together for the big game last Sunday?" Jen was clearly trying to make small talk. She noted that Ron was nervous, and she had to fish the cause out of him. She looked at it as a game; avoid the topic until he was ready to burst.

"Yeah, my team lost. To make it worse, my college team lost, too, and I lost the office betting pool."

"Again," Jen added playfully.

"Again," Ron agreed. "There's something ...." he started to say nervously.

"Are you planning on seeing the next Star Trek film?" Jen continued, interrupting Ron.

"No. Now would you let me talk?" Ron sounded a little annoyed.

"Sorry," Jen said with a smile. "It's just fun to stymie you when I know you've got something to say."

"You've done that since we were kids," Ron nodded. "And it's still frustrating and annoying."

"I said, 'sorry'," Jen apologized again. "So what's the big news?"

Ron bit his lip and looked down at the table. He wasn't quite sure how to tell Jen about the application. "I, uh," he stammered uncomfortably, "you know that ad you showed me?"

Jen nodded, and then her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "You didn't!" she said in disbelief.

Ron nodded. "I applied the other day, and took a lot of their silly tests." He shook his head. "It was worse than defending my Master's thesis!" he complained.

"When do you start? What is the next step? How long will it take before ...?" Jen asked her questions rapid-fire. She was obviously excited.

Ron sighed and shook his head. "I haven't been accepted yet."

Jen pulled out her cell phone. In seconds, she had a picture displayed. She showed it to Ron.

Ron's eyes bugged out, and his jaw dropped. "What...?" he stammered. "When ... when did you get that?"

Jen giggled. "I found a picture of you from when we went to the beach a couple of months ago, and I used it at an on-line virtual makeover site. I was just going to tease you about what you could do to be ... attractive to me. But that was before I found the website, and before you decided to go through with it."

"But ...?" Jen was moving a lot faster than Ron had counted on. "I'm not sure I'm going to do all that!"

Jen wasn't put off by his protest. "Look! With the right clothes and makeup, you're darling! You'll be so _cute_." The last words had a lyrical tone, as if she was daydreaming.

Ron looked at the picture more closely. The image was kind of cute, and definitely very feminine. Jen had modified his picture with a sexy, shoulder-length, bob hair style, with feathering, and had applied makeup. His plain, masculine face was radically altered by the makeup, which made his eyes look bigger and softer, his cheeks higher, and his lips more full. The software had even put large hoop earrings in his ears. Below the neck, the image had a bikini top over very large breasts, with a wrap-around skirt covering everything below the waist.

"If my best friend looked like this," Jen said, her voice sultry and seductive, "I'd melt. You could look _really_ cute!"

Ron started to have second thoughts. This was a very radical change; in the altered picture, he looked not the slightest bit male. Jen was right; he would make a cute girl - not a supermodel, but cute enough. He tried and failed to suppress a shiver. "I don't know if I want to go that far," he said cautiously.

"You're going to be a woman where it counts. You might as well change the external appearance to match. Otherwise, it could cause problems with things like restrooms at work, shopping, and so on."

Ron winced. He hadn't considered that angle. "Well," he said with hesitance in his voice, "I haven't been accepted yet."

Jen smiled and put her hands on his atop the table. "You will be. I just know it."

**********

Ron sat in Rachel's office once more. Less than a week had passed since his first appointment, and he'd taken the extremely long and thorough psychological test. He hoped he did okay. It wasn't the type of test where there weren't right and wrong answers; the psychologists interpreted the answers. He'd always hated that type of test. The physical was routine, except for the fact that the entire staff was female. He'd never had a physical by a female doctor, and that had led to a bit of embarrassment.

"I've got the results of your tests," Rachel said simply.

"And?" Ron asked hopefully. At the same time, he was a bit fearful of what he was getting himself into. This was a very large step. He closed his eyes and pictured Jen, his life-long best friend. He knew that she was worth everything he might be in store for.

Rachel bit her lip. She hated the discussion she was about to have. "I'm afraid that you aren't a good candidate for our program," she said bluntly.

"I see." Ron seemed to visibly deflate. "Are you sure?"

Rachel nodded solemnly. "We have to be very careful when we choose our applicants, especially when they are men. This isn't a walk in the park. It's a very difficult change of a person's entire life. We can't take it lightly."

"Oh."

Rachel saw his disappointment. "I hope you don't take this too badly. Only two or three men in a hundred pass the psych tests," she tried to console him.

Ron sighed. "Okay." He stood slowly, his face deliberately impassive to hide his frustration and disappointment. "Thank you for your time," he said formally. "I think I can see myself out."

"Please don't take this personally," Rachel cautioned him.

"I won't." Ron shook her hand and walked out the door.

Rachel watched him go, frowning as she watched. After he had departed, she looked back at his file and then at her computer screen.

"Are you going to lunch today?" Dr. Tina Martelli called from the door.

Rachel had been so absorbed in Ron's computer file that she was surprised by Tina's sudden appearance. She shook her head. "No, I'm still trying to catch up on last week's paperwork!"

"Hell of a diet plan if you ask me," Tina joked. "Say, what was with that guy, Laird or something?"

"Ron MacLaird. He didn't pass."

Tina frowned. "Too bad. He seemed like a nice guy, and medically, he's a very good candidate."

Rachel shook her head. "He's an _ideal_ candidate," she reported. "He passed the psych test with flying colors, even though he's had a few bouts of mild depression."

"So why didn't he pass?"

"My judgment," Rachel answered slowly. "There's something that he's hiding ... something in his motivation that he isn't talking about. You know the guidelines: if an applicant can't be upfront with the clinic psychologist, if she suspects anything odd, she _must_ reject the applicant."

"That has to be a tough call," Tina agreed. "You know how much we need volunteers."

Rachel nodded. "I know. That's why it was so hard."

"You really don't want to take a chance after ...?"

Rachel shook her head vehemently. "Nope."

Tina stared at Rachel for a few seconds without speaking. "I also remember that there's a certain ... latitude ... for the director and counselor to use her judgment," she finally said softly.

Rachel sighed heavily. "Yeah, I know, it's ultimately my decision. The burden of command, and all that ...." Rachel leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Sometimes, I feel like I'm playing God."

Tina knew that Rachel was in a contemplative mood, and she didn't want advice. She wisely sat silently.

"If I take a chance, and if I'm wrong, I might mess up someone's life — badly. If I don't, a baby is probably going to die." She sighed again, and glanced at the pile of papers on her desk. "I need a break from all of this paperwork from time to time." She abruptly pushed her chair back from the desk and stood. "Let's go get some lunch."

*********

Chad tried to pry the beer out of Ron's hands. "I think you've had enough for one night."

Ron glared at Chad. "No, I haven't," he snarled. "I'll tell you when I've had enough to drink!" He raised his mug and took a big swig, spilling beer down his chin and not really caring.

Chad glanced across the table at Bill, who was likewise concerned about Ron.

"Ron," Bill tried his luck. "It's almost closing time. We'll get you back to your apartment now, okay?"

"I don't wanna go back there," Ron slurred his words. "It's a lonely fuckin' place, and I don't wanna go!"

"Look, man," Chad tried another angle, "you're drunk. You're very drunk. Why don't Bill and I get you back home, and you can sleep it off?"

"She won't have me unless I turn myself into a chick!" Ron stammered, trying to focus on Chad and Bill but failing. "She won't love me unless I turn myself into a girl!" He turned toward Chad. "I'd make an ugly fuckin' girl, wouldn't I?"

Chad wrinkled his nose and glanced sideways at Bill, hoping that maybe Bill understood what Ron was babbling about. Bill shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, indicating he was just as confused as Chad.

"Don't you get it? She wants me to have an operation so I can be a girl!" Ron turned toward Bill. "She wants me to be her lesbi ... lesbi ... girl lover!" He looked back into his nearly-empty mug. He looked up toward the bar. "Barkeep!" he stammered loudly. "I need more beer!"

Chad glanced toward the bar and, when he caught the eye of the bartender, he shook his head, indicating that Ron didn't need more. He turned back to Ron. "What the _fuck_ are you talking about?" he asked.

Ron swigged the last of his beer, spilling about a third of it in the process. "Jen loves me — as a friend! I'm her friend! But I don't want to be just a friend! I want to be her lover!"

Chad shook his head. "Dude, she's into girls!"

Ron put his finger to his lips. "Shhh!" he hissed loudly. "I'm gonna tell you a secret!" He glanced at Bill, then back to Chad. "There's a place that can make guys into real women to have babies!" He turned back and stared at Bill. "I'd do anything for Jen!" he crooned drunkenly. "Even have my dick chopped off so I could be a girl!"

"Man, you are really hammered," Chad tried to get through to Ron. He took Ron's arm. "You're not making any sense! Let's get you home while you can still walk!"

"They didn't want me!" Ron wailed, as Chad and Bill pulled him to his feet.

Awkwardly, the two friends guided the staggeringly-drunk Ron toward the door.

"They wouldn't take me," Ron cried again as they stepped into the street. "So I can't ever be Jen's lover!"

Fortunately, the sidewalk was mostly empty, so as Bill and Chad tried to guide the thoroughly-intoxicated Ron down the walk, they didn't run into anyone on their wild course.

"They wouldn't cut of my dick!" Ron hissed at Bill. "You know why?" He giggled. "I think it was too much work! My dick is too big!"

As Chad held Ron upright, and Bill opened the car door, Ron started to cry. "I'll never be with Jen," he sobbed. "I'll never get to be hers, and she'll never be mine!" He shook his head. "It was my last chance, and I can't do it! I don't wanna live without Jen!" he wailed.

"Ron, you'll feel better in the morning," Chad tried to calm him down.

"No, I won't! I won't have Jen! I won't have anything! I don't wanna live without Jen!"

"C'mon, Ron," Bill urged, "it's not that bad."

"I don't wanna live!" Ron wailed again. He looked at Bill, his eyes struggling to focus. "Have you got any sleeping pills?" he stammered.

Bill's eyes were wide with shock. "Uh, no!" he answered quickly. "I'm taking you home so you can sleep it off."

"No! There's nothing for me there! Just a lonely fuckin' apartment to remind me that I'll never have the girl I love!" Ron sobbed. "I don't wanna go there! I wanna go to the clinic and make them operate!" He continued to babble, but it got softer and softer, until Ron was quiet.

"Did he pass out?" Chad asked, glancing into the back seat where Ron leaned against the door.

"I think so," Bill sighed. "Man, whatever's going on, he's _really_ taking it hard!"

"I've never seen him so depressed." Chad sighed. "I think I better stay there tonight, just to be sure. He was saying some really scary shit!"

"Yeah." Bill drove for a while. "Do you have any clue what the _hell_ he was babbling about? Some crap about guys having babies?"

Chad shook his head. "He's just totally hammered," he finally said. "Nothing he was saying made any sense!"

**********

"Rachel?" Suzie's voice sounded over Rachel's speaker-phone.

"Yes," Rachel answered, confused. She glanced at her computer and confirmed she didn't accidentally miss something on her schedule. Suzie _never_ interrupted her, unless there was some kind of problem.

"Mr. MacLaird is here, wanting to see you again," Suzie explained. She sounded a little unsettled.

Rachel frowned. She'd had to turn down Ron as a volunteer. Now, he was back, and from Suzie's tone, something was wrong. "I'm free right now. Send him in."

"Okay," Suzie answered.

"And Suzie?"

"Yes?"

"If you hadn't heard yet, Grace had a baby girl." Rachel gave Suzie the code words that indicated she should let security know about the situation. After some unpleasantness at another clinic, the main offices had security cameras and microphones installed throughout all of the Foundation's clinics. The staff knew a code phrase, with which they could alert security if needed. If Grace's baby was a boy, security would monitor the situation. If Grace's baby was a girl, an armed security officer would be around the corner, just in case, while another would monitor Rachel's office.

In a few moments, Suzie knocked and opened the door, showing Ron into Rachel's office.

Rachel stood. "It's Ron, isn't it?" she greeted him as she stood and extended her hand. "I didn't expect to see you."

Ron shook her hand stiffly. His expression was somber to the point of being frightening. "Doctor," he said in a curt tone.

Rachel was taken aback by the formality of his greeting, given that on their previous meeting, he had seemed very accepting of informality. She also noticed that he looked exhausted, as if he hadn't slept in days.

"Well, since you're here, there's obviously something on your mind," Rachel tried to be upbeat. "Why don't you sit down, and we can discuss it?" She gestured toward her formal chairs, opposite her desk. The security cameras focused on that area of her office.

Ron sat down heavily. "I ... need to know," he began, sounding as tired as he looked. "Why wasn't I accepted?"

Rachel winced. "I'm sorry," she explained to Ron, "but we can't explain the reasons. If someone knew precisely how we selected candidates, then someone could figure out how to fool our tests. Given what's at stake, we can't take that risk."

Ron nodded his understanding. "Um," he began awkwardly, "there's something I need to tell you," he said, looking down at his hands.

"Go on," Rachel urged.

"I probably should have told you last time," he admitted softly. "I figured that you probably knew that I wasn't telling you everything."

Rachel smiled to herself. Ron was obviously smarter than her average client. "The thought had crossed my mind."

Ron nodded soberly. "And with what's at stake, it occurred to me that if you thought I wasn't being entirely truthful, you might take that as enough reason to not accept me."

"That may or may not be the case," Rachel said cautiously. She didn't want to give him false hope.

"I _have_ to be accepted," Ron said. "There's no other way."

Rachel frowned. "No other way for what?"

Ron shook his head sadly. "You probably have a policy that officially disapproves, anyway, so it probably wouldn't make any difference," he muttered. "Since your pro-life position is so staunchly religious, then ...." He shook his head again. "It doesn't matter. I have to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Rachel prompted again. She was starting to be impatient at Ron's riddles and enigmas; she wished he'd just get it out. Still, she was trying to be calm, because Ron was obviously distraught.

"She's been my best friend since ... forever," Ron said sadly. "We met when we were about three." He stared blankly at the wall behind Rachel. "I've always known that she was going to be my true love, my one and only." Ron's gaze dropped to his hands again. "But it can't ever be."

Rachel knew he was speaking of love, but was still confused. "Why not?"

Ron snorted derisively. "She's ... a lesbian. She can't ever love me, not like I am." He stared at his hands, folded in his lap. "She ... we ... tried." He shook his head. "It just won't work, unless...."

"I see." Rachel tried to sound neutral and non-judgmental.

"Even if it goes against your policies, I _have_ to volunteer. I have to know if I can do this to ... to be with Jen."

"You're talking about giving up your entire life for this girl? And you don't even know if she'll accept you if you do this?" Rachel was astounded, but tried hard not to show it. "This program will change your relationships with everyone else — family, friends, and co-workers. Everyone. This is a huge step we're talking about."

"I have to try," Ron said. "This could be ... a test run, a way to find out if we can really be together." He sighed. "But you probably frown on lesbians."

"Why do you say that?" Rachel asked simply.

Ron looked up, startled. "Because ... because it's .... I figured you'd all say it was sinful and stuff like that."

Rachel laughed. "We have policies governing the behavior of our volunteers — to the extent needed to protect the babies, and _no more_." She watched Ron's reaction. "We're not a bunch of bible-thumping preachy types telling everyone they're damned to hell if they aren't moral enough for us!"

"Do you know how hard it would be to try to force a male volunteer to be completely female, including relations, in a heterosexual way?" She smiled. "Most men learn to be attracted to women practically from birth, certainly from puberty. You could understand how, once a male volunteer has the surgery, he might find breaking this habit rather hard, and he might find changing orientation to be attracted to men to be nearly impossible!"

"But I figured ...." Ron was confused.

"You prejudged us without knowing what we're about," Rachel said. She reached up and tapped a button on her phone; without Ron's knowledge, Suzie got the cue to reduce the security monitoring. "We are concerned about the babies," Rachel stated. "No more, no less."

"Oh. So if I ...." Ron started.

Rachel nodded. "We wouldn't really ask, so long as your behavior conformed to the contractual requirements and limitations. _Those_ are all about protecting the health of the developing fetus."

Rachel picked up a pad of paper and a pen. "Why don't you tell me more about this girl you love? I'd like to understand more about _why_ you feel the need to take such a ... drastic ... step to be with her."

Thirty minutes later, Rachel leaned back in her chair. "Very interesting story, Ron," she commented.

"So ... am I going to be accepted?" Ron asked hopefully.

Rachel winced visibly. "It's not that simple. The Foundation policy is to avoid people who want to host a baby as a means to bypass the normal and lengthy psychological evaluations and transition routine to have a sex change. The reality often doesn't match what they were hoping for. But once a post-op TG woman has demonstrated that she's psychologically fit over a considerable period of time, we can be a little more lenient. Hosting is a way for them to feel even more complete and happier. But just using the program as a shortcut to SRS doesn't always ... work out, and then it's very traumatic to the volunteer. We lost some volunteers," she explained, "and a few babies." At the last part, her voice was heavy with grief. She shook her head. "The Foundation considers it too large of a risk to the well-being of the baby."

Ron read her expression. "But ...?"

Rachel smiled a bit. "You're perceptive, I'll give you that." She paused for a moment to arrange her thoughts. "Based on your psych profile," she began tentatively, "you'd be an excellent candidate without the love angle."

Rachel absently tapped her pen against the paper. "Let me confer with my staff," she finally said. "In the end, it's my decision, but I really value their opinions."

Ron nodded somberly. "That's ... a 'maybe'," he asked rhetorically, and then continued, "which is better than a 'no', right?"

"That's about it," Rachel smiled.

**********

"So, what's up?" Suzie asked, easing into one of Rachel's stuffed chairs.

Tina set her coffee cup on the end table, as she sat on the sofa. "It's not every day I have to leave a patient waiting while I come to a staff meeting."

"Does this have to do with Mr. MacLaird, who's waiting in the lobby?" Suzie asked knowingly.

Rachel moved from her desk to the other chair. "I'm getting too transparent. Maybe Tommi was right," she added with a laugh.

Suzie laughed. "I think Tommi got to know you almost better than you know yourself." She smiled pleasantly at the memories. "I wonder how she's doing on her PhD?"

Tina took a sip of coffee. "You know I've got to get back to my patients. I'm supposed to be in the OR in," she looked at her watch, "thirty minutes for a transfer, and I've got to scrub and prep."

Rachel nodded. "This is ... hard."

"We've always been more than colleagues," Tina offered. "We're friends. You can tell us, and ask for our advice."

Suzie nodded her agreement. "The ultimate decision is yours, though."

"I know." Rachel sighed. "Mr. MacLaird is an _ideal_ candidate, save for one thing. His reason for volunteering is the number one reason we don't accept volunteers."

"He wants to be female?" Suzie asked.

"Yup," Rachel replied. "And there's more. He's very much in love with his childhood sweetheart."

Tina whistled. "That means ...."

Rachel nodded. "She's a lesbian, and he's convinced that the only way he'll ever find love with her is to volunteer and become completely female."

"Wow!" Suzie exclaimed. "No wonder you're a big edgy about this one."

"Yeah," Rachel replied simply.

"So, what are you going to do?" Tina asked after an awkward silence.

Rachel shook her head. "I really don't know," she said softly. "I don't know."

"Ultimately, it's your call."

"Yes."

"But you know the statistics. We're going to hit peak season in a few months," Tina reminded Rachel.

"Yeah — springtime, when all the 'winter conceptions' will be aborted. I know we're going to be short on volunteers again," Rachel replied gruffly. "I take a chance with Mr. MacLaird, or we lose a baby." She realized what her words sounded like. "I'm sorry. It's just that this case has me ... uneasy."

"You don't want to take a chance, is that it?" Suzie asked.

Rachel nodded. "That's pretty much it."

"So, what would you do if it weren't for the love interest? Would you accept him then?" she continued.

Rachel's eyes opened fully. "Well, yeah," she replied. "He scored _very_ well in all the tests — except for the area of family acceptance."

"So it really isn't taking a chance, is it?" Tina prompted.

Rachel shook her head. "If the romance angle goes sour, he's going to be an emotional wreck. The risk to the baby..."

Tina and Suzie both nodded. "Yeah," Suzie said. "But the risk to _a_ baby if he isn't accepted?"

"I know. I guess I really don't have a choice, do I?" Rachel asked, seeking counsel. "We need every womb we can get."

**********

To Ron, the walk back to Rachel's office seemed miles long, and each step was an adventure in growing uncertainty. While Suzie poked her head into the office to announce their presence, Ron gulped, hoping to calm himself somehow.

"Show him in," Rachel said from behind her desk.

Ron walked in, trying to read Rachel's expression. He couldn't. "Well?" he asked, anxiously.

Rachel smiled. "Welcome to the program," she said, extending her hand.

Ron nearly collapsed with relief. "Oh, thank you!" he gushed.

Rachel gestured to her chair. "Please sit down, and we'll start to discuss the contractual aspects. Let's see if some lawyer-talk will scare you off." She sat down and opened her desk, pulling out a thick folder. "And Mister MacLaird?"

"Yes?" Ron asked hesitantly.

Rachel's expression was somber. "I _hope_ you won't prove me to be a bad judge of character."

**********

The room swam in and out of focus as Ron struggled to regain consciousness. He saw a face smiling down at him.

"You're in recovery," the nurse said reassuringly. "Your operation went very well."

"Uh, wha....?" Ron tried to speak, but the only noise that came out was a hoarse croaking sound.

"Your operation went very well," the nurse reassured him. "I'll be with you for a couple of hours until we move you to a private room."

"All?" Ron croaked.

The nurse smiled. "Everything was done in the first surgery. At least with your ... plumbing, you're completely female."

Ron nodded. "Sore," he croaked, trying to point to his throat.

The nurse nodded and held some ice chips for him to suck on. "Try a little bit of ice," she suggested. "Start slowly, though."

Ron greedily sucked on the ice she offered. "More."

"Remember to take it easy," the nurse cautioned him. "You had anesthesia, so your stomach may be a bit unsettled for a while. We would really rather you don't start vomiting."

Ron sucked on some more ice chips, then let his head flop back on his pillow. "God, I really did it!" he whispered hoarsely. "I really did it."

The nurse smiled. "Yes, you did. By the way, I'm Beth. I've been assigned to you, and I'll be at your beck and call for the next several days. Part of my job will be to help you start learning about how things work ... downstairs."

Ron blushed at the thought of a female nurse teaching him about private parts. Then he felt silly; he now had the same lower anatomy, and he had no logical reason to be embarrassed. Still, it was going to take getting used to. He suspected that his gender-identity troubles were just beginning.

"Are you feeling any pain?" Beth asked.

Ron shook his head. "Just ... tired."

“That’s good,” Beth smiled, “but if you do feel some, just press this,” Beth laid a small thumb button next to his hand, “only if you feel the need. A pain reliever will be dispensed into your IV.”

Beth continued. "Now then, do you remember what you and your friend asked for? The ... enhancements?"

Ron furrowed his brow, then his eyes widened as he realized he hadn't been dreaming. He blushed again. "Um, not really. Did I ask for... bigger?"

Beth giggled. "You asked for something to compensate for your family's tendency to be small-breasted, if I correctly remember what you said on the gurney."

"So ... what...?" Ron started to ask, embarrassed.

Beth smiled. "No need to feel embarrassed," she reassured him. "You told Rachel earlier in an interview, and when your ... friend ... expressed interest in you having bigger ... breasts, you couldn't say no. I take it you really love her."

Ron nodded. He was starting to feel very comfortable talking with Beth. Of course, that was by design; the staff was carefully trained to help patients feel like family and at ease.

"Best friend ... since forever," Ron said. "More ice, please?"

Beth gave him more ice. "The doctor implanted a time-release drug capsule in each breast. Over the next few months, it'll be working with the rapid-healing drugs to fool your body into thinking it's programmed for larger breasts."

"How ... big?" Ron asked, fearful of the answer. He really didn't remember talking with Jen about it while he was in pre-op.

Beth laughed. "Not as big as your companion was suggesting, I'm guessing. Probably a C-cup when all the growth is done."

Ron sighed. "Was I dreaming or did she want me to get double D's?”

Beth smiled. "Actually, she was trying to persuade you into an F cup."

Ron's eyes widened. That would have been huge.

"Fortunately," Beth continued, "Rachel wouldn't let you do that, because you were already getting groggy from the anesthesia. But you were ready to do almost anything she wished."

"Yeah," Ron confirmed. "I guess I'd do anything for Jen."

Beth laughed. "Not quite. She was also trying to talk you into the bio-compatible implant that would help define your breasts, and give you immediate size and shape!"

**********

Ron sat with Jen in the lobby of the center. She was very intrigued by the choice of reading material, whereas Ron was visibly nervous. Jen held a picture in front of Ron. "Look at this outfit. It's so cute! Just think — when you're pregnant, you can wear an outfit like this."

"Uh," Ron stammered, "I still look like a guy."

Jen slapped his hand playfully, like he'd just said something silly. "No you won't," she said. "Once we get your hair to grow out more and style it, get some earrings, get rid of that nasty beard, you'll look very sweet." She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. "That fast-healing medicine that you're taking is making your hair grow pretty quickly, so I bet it's long enough for a nice feminine style already."

Ron shuddered inwardly. He knew that Jen was already envisioning him as a complete woman. He, however, was having problems just with the first steps of the program. "I'm still getting used to my new ... plumbing," Ron said softly. "I'm not sure I want to change so much so quickly."

Jen laughed. "Once your boobs start growing, you're not going to have much of a choice. It's going to be hard to hide them." Her eyes suddenly widened as she thought of something else. "And what are you going to do about restrooms at work? You can't exactly use the men's room anymore."

Ron gulped. "I hadn't thought of that."

"You're going to have to. You can't spend all the healing time and pregnancy on sick leave, you know."

"I know," Ron agreed reluctantly. "It'll be ... awkward."

"You can't use the men's room now," Jen continued. "And if you use the women's without other ... changes, some women will freak out."

Ron sighed heavily. "I knew I was going to have to confront the issue sooner or later, so I guess the best thing is to do it and get it all over with. I've got a meeting with HR on Monday morning, so that's probably a good time to figure out these issues."

"Have you thought of a name?"

Ron frowned. "What's wrong with my name?"

"Nothing," Jen said lightly, "if you want to use a masculine name on a feminine body."

"Oh." Ron sounded a bit deflated by her logic. Losing his name, on top of everything else, was a big step.

"I looked up a few Scottish names, because I thought you'd want something that accentuated your heritage. How about Rhona? Or Rebecca?" Jen suggested. "Or Rosslyn? I like the more traditional and uncommon names." She smiled. "I think you'd be a cute Rosslyn."

"I'll ... have to think about it," Ron said.

Jen leaned on his shoulder, clutching his arm. "It'll be okay. I'll help you any way I can."

Ron smiled for the first time in the conversation. "I know."

"Ron?" Suzie called from the reception desk.

"Yes?"

"Dr. Tina is ready for you. I think you know the way."

"Uh, can ... can Jen come back, too?"

Suzie winced at the request. "I'll have to check with Rachel."

Jen patted his arm. "That's okay. I'll wait here for you." She held up a magazine. "There are lots of pictures of outfits I can look at and try to imagine you wearing in a few months," she added with a grin.

Ron walked down the hall toward the nurse's station. "Hi, Beth," he said when she looked up and saw him.

"Good morning, Ron," Beth answered warmly. "How are you doing today?"

Ron shrugged. "Okay, I guess. At least I've gotten out of the habit of lifting my toilet seat."

Beth laughed. "Every man who does this ends up far more sympathetic to a woman's bathroom needs." She pointed at the scale. "You know the drill."

Ron nodded and stepped on the scale.

After Beth had recorded his weight, she showed him into an exam room. "Take your clothes off, and put on this," Beth said, putting an exam gown on the table. "I've almost got you trained," she added with a grin as Ron started to unbutton his shirt even before Beth had started talking.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I know, but that doesn't make it any less embarrassing."

Beth smiled. "You'll get used to it."

"That's what Jen says," Ron sighed. He took off his shirt as soon as Beth closed the door behind herself. In no time, he was naked except for the gown. He sat on the exam table, waiting.

He didn't have to wait long. That was one thing he noticed about the clinic; they were very precise with their scheduling. "How are you doing today?" Dr. Tina asked as she came in, carrying a tablet computer in one hand. With the free hand, she shook Ron's hand.

Ron shrugged. "I'm still getting used to things."

Tina nodded. "Let's start on top. How are your breasts doing?"

Ron slipped the top of the gown off his shoulders, exposing his chest. His nipples were larger, and conically-puffed out; naked, they showed clearly their development. "They're growing pretty fast," he noted.

"That's from the rapid-healing protocol we use. They did three to four months' growth in the last three weeks."

"They're pretty sensitive. Sore, I mean."

Tina examined his small boobs. "Chafing? From your shirts, maybe? They shouldn't be sore from growing."

Ron nodded. "Most of my shirts are pretty coarse, and they make my ... nipples ... pretty raw by the end of the day. I've been wearing T-shirts mostly, but I go back to work next week, so I'll need to figure out something."

Tina palpated the tissue. "They're growing nicely. A little faster than normal, but you _did_ get the 'sports package'," she said with a sly grin.

Ron blushed. "Yeah."

"A soft camisole under your shirt might help with the chafing."

"That's what Jen suggested," Ron agreed. "But ...."

Dr. Tina kept from chuckling. "Or a soft bra, which would give the added benefit of support, so they don't get saggy. You can talk about those types of adjustments with Rachel. I assume you have an appointment with her today, too?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, let's check my handiwork. Up in the stirrups."

Ron turned, lifting his legs until they were resting in the cold steel stirrups. "Now I know why women don't talk much about gyno exams," he observed.

Tina nodded, laughing lightly. "It can be pretty ... personal."

"After what I've been through," Ron said with a sigh, "I don't have a lot of personal dignity left anyway."

Twenty minutes later, Ron had his clothes back on and was in Rachel's office.

"How are you doing today?" Rachel asked by way of greeting, as she gestured for Ron to sit in the 'informal' area of the office.

Ron sighed. "You're the third one to ask that exact question. What is it, a form question you have around here?" He smiled, letting her know that he was joking.

"We all care," Rachel countered lightly. "Do you want to tell me about your thoughts for going back to work next week?"

Ron shrugged. "I've got a meeting scheduled first-thing Monday with HR. I figured that they'll consider it a special case of someone who's transitioning."

"How are you going to handle it when people start noticing ... differences?"

"I've asked my manager to address our group at the Monday staff meeting. I figured I'd just level with everyone. I'm doing a Morris-Henderson baby, so for the time being, I'm female from the waist down."

"There are going to be a lot of questions," Rachel said warily. "And some of your co-workers aren't going to be very supportive."

"I know." Ron smiled. "As long as I've got Jen, I figure I'll be okay."

"That'll help," Rachel said, speaking very deliberately, "but Jen won't be at work with you. Your co-workers are going to notice, especially since you got the 'enhancements.'" She deliberately glanced at Ron's chest in a way that he noticed. "You're going to quickly reach a point where it won't just be 'from the waist down'."

Ron blushed. "That's true."

"Some of your co-workers won't be able to accept the change. The same holds true for your friends, and, sadly, some of your family. Have you told any family, or any of your 'game day' buddies?"

Ron looked down, shaking his head slowly. "No, not yet."

"They _will_ notice," Rachel cautioned again. "Some of my patients just tell everyone up front. Some try to hide it."

"I'd assume that's kind of tough when they're eight months pregnant," Ron chuckled.

Rachel grinned and laughed. "Yes, it is." She became more serious. "I want you to tell me, and to be honest. How much change is your girlfriend pushing you into? Do you feel like she's pressuring you into changes?"

Ron bit his lower lip and stared at the opposite wall as he thought about what Rachel had said. "Maybe some," he finally said. "She wants me to get my hair styled, and get the treatment to stop my beard from growing." He looked down, his eyes half-shut. "I guess she is pressuring me a bit."

"A bit?"

"Okay," Ron admitted reluctantly, "she's pressuring me quite a bit."

"It was at her insistence that you got the extra treatment to grow larger breasts, remember?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded.

"There are only two things you can do right now. First, go all the way and change as quickly as you can into a woman — totally. The second is to try to hide your changes as long as you can."

"Jen thinks ...."

Rachel cut off his words. "This isn't about what Jen thinks, or what Jen wants," she scolded him. "This is about how _you_ want to handle this."

Ron flinched, which didn't surprise Rachel. "Um, the only way I can see it is for me to get the changes done up front, to minimize the time of questions and confusion."

"I see," Rachel started taking notes. "How do you feel about changing completely to be a woman?"

"I've been trying to figure out how I feel. It's not a big deal to me," he said half-heartedly. "It's not like I've been trying to be Mister Macho Studly all my life." He leaned back in the chair. "When I was little, I did stuff with my mom all the time. You know, things that other boys said were sissy. I learned to sew, I cook, and I bake. When I was six, I was cooking my own hot breakfasts."

"How much did you do with your dad?"

"We built things. We went to ballgames. Normal father-son stuff, I guess."

"So would you say that your gender identity isn't as much a part of you as with others?"

Ron shrugged. "I guess." He smiled. "I thought you'd know the answer to those types of questions from the tests I took."

"I wanted to hear it from you," Rachel confessed. "Like a lot of things we'll be talking about during your ... term, there are things you need to admit to yourself. How are you two doing for the physical part of your relationship?"

Ron looked immediately down, and felt his cheeks burning. He knew that Rachel could guess just from his reaction. "Uh, we've ...."

"I figured as much. Was it what you expected?"

"Being close to Jen is wonderful. The things she does to me, and what I can do to her — it's better than I expected. Especially how she likes to cuddle afterwards."

Rachel leaned back and put down her pen. "What's your plan to get ready for work, then?"

"I guess I'll get my hair styled this afternoon. Jen offered to help me shopping, and learning how to do makeup." Ron smiled. "It'll be fun to spend the rest of the day with her."

"When you have your meeting on Monday, I can come to answer any questions that might arise," Rachel offered. "It might help things go a little easier."

Ron thought for a moment. "Maybe, but I'm not sure how the others would react. They might think you're recruiting or pushing the Foundation's view." He shook his head. "I'm going to have to deal with a lot of people's questions. I'll try this one on my own." He smiled. "I'll give your contact information to HR, though. I'm sure they will have a lot of questions."

"Okay," Rachel agreed. She was pleased to see Ron sounding a bit more in control, rather than being a love-struck puppy to Jen's wishes. She was really concerned that Ron's changes were being directed by Jen, and not by him. "If you need more help, though ...."

**********

Ron paced nervously as he waited for the doorbell to ring. In contrast, Jen sat casually on the sofa, sipping a glass of wine. "Would you relax?" she asked, for perhaps the twentieth time. "Everything is going to be okay."

Ron paused his pacing and spun toward her. His expression reflected his concern. "How can I relax?" he asked. "The guys didn't know what I was going to do. This is going to be a big shock to them."

"They're still your friends," Jen said softly.

Ron spread his arms and looked down at himself. "They're going to think I look silly," he complained. "Or gay."

Jen stood, and cupping the wine glass in one hand, strode to Ron's side and wrapped her free arm around him. She lifted her lips and gave him a very seductive kiss. "You _are_ gay!" she said simply. "You're my lover, remember?"

Ron melted and let himself enjoy the kiss. Jen was hot, and she was a very good kisser. He was feeling all tingly inside.

Jen laughed suddenly, causing Ron to frown. "What?" he demanded softly.

"I just smeared your lipstick," Jen giggled.

Ron frowned. "Not funny," he complained.

Jen shrugged and led him to his bathroom, where he could touch up his makeup in the large mirror.

Even as he started to carefully apply the lessons he'd learned earlier in the day, he still couldn't help but look at himself in the mirror. Herself. The transformation was pretty amazing. With the Beard-Stop cream making his face silky-smooth, and with lipstick, eye-shadow and liner, and some foundation and blush, Ron's face wasn't unattractive. In fact, he thought, if his nose were a little smaller, and his chin was less angular, he'd be a rather cute woman. His Adam's apple was still rather prominent; Jen had made a fuss about that, and how he'd have to get a bit of cosmetic surgery to take care of that. He'd surprise her when he let her know that it was already scheduled.

Framing his face, Ron's hair was a short, sassy, and very feminine cut, a style that in no way could be mistaken for masculine. With studs in his ears, and the makeup, the effect was almost unbelievable. Ron was a modestly attractive woman — at least from the neck up.

Ron was wearing a stylish dress, and beneath it, a push-up, padded bra was making the most of his small-but-growing assets. He didn't have an hourglass figure, but the dress style didn't detract from a feminine figure, but rather added to it. His legs were silky-smooth, courtesy of the rather painful bikini waxing Jen had insisted he get, and his armpit hair and chest hair were long gone, also victims of the Beard-Stop hair remover.

The hand holding the lipstick tube seemed a little bit large and rough, especially with the half-inch fake nails and shiny red enamel, but, again, it didn't detract from an overall feminine look.

"Look at you!" Jen exclaimed softly, as Ron gazed into the mirror. "You look ... irresistible!"

"I'm not that good-looking," Ron protested weakly. In truth, the makeover had left him as an average-looking woman, in marked contrast to the man who'd walked into the mall with Jen.

Jen turned him and kissed him again, this time letting her hand move up to cup his small breast. "Good enough for me," she said in a sultry voice. "Good enough to make me want to take you right now." She smiled. "If your friends weren't coming over, I'd have you in bed in two seconds, flat."

Being honest with himself, Ron realized that both options scared him. He was going to tell his friends, his long-time drinking and game-day buddies, what he was doing. They were probably going to reject him. At least, he thought, he had Jen for moral support. But she had already made it known that she wanted sex with him — and he was now a woman. The thought of sex as a female was as frightening to him as the thought of meeting his friends. He knew, though, that one was definitely happening, in a few minutes, and given Jen's mood, the other would happen later that evening.

Five minutes later, the doorbell rang. Jen perked up. "You wait here. I'll let them in and get them a beer."

Ron stood nervously in the bathroom, feelings weak in his knees. His hands were shaking from nervousness. Jen was playing hostess, getting the guys seated, helping them feel more comfortable, even though they were curious, and getting them drinks. Ron considered, briefly, letting them get good and drunk before he sprang his surprise on them.

"It's not a secret," Jen could be heard saying, "that Ron's been crazy about me for a long time. It's also not a secret that, to be blunt, I'm a lesbian. So it can't work between us, or at least, it couldn't have. But now it can."

Chad sounded confused. "You're not making any sense."

"Have you guys heard of the Morris-Henderson Foundation? Or their clinics?" Obviously, the guys indicated that they hadn't, because Jen continued. "They have developed some wonderful medical technology to rescue babies from abortion by providing them with host mothers. They can even use men to be hosts."

"That's impossible!" Bill snorted.

"It _was_ impossible. Now, with organ cloning and surgery, it _is_ possible, and Ron is going through the process. You all know that Ron's been out of work recovering from surgery for the past three weeks, right? Well, what he's recovering from is the first part of the process. Ron?" She beckoned him to join her.

Feeling embarrassed and nervous, Ron walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, to Jen's side. "Hi, guys," he said uneasily.

The guys stared, open-mouthed, at him for several long seconds. Finally, Ted grinned. "Good one, Ron," he laughed. "I never thought I'd see you in drag, though!"

Ron shook his head. "You don't get it. I had surgery so I could be a ... host mother," he stammered. "I'm ...," he looked down as his cheeks burned, "I'm going to carry a baby."

Bill frowned. "But that means ...."

Ron nodded. "I had surgery. I'm ... now a woman ... downstairs."

Chad's eyes widened. "So ... this isn't a gag?"

Ron shook his head firmly as he bit his lip. He saw the looks he was getting from his friends. "No, it's not a gag."

"You had your ...." Mark stammered, his eyes wide with disbelief, and his voice sharp. "Are you gay or something?"

"No," Ron said simply.

Jen recognized the growing discomfort and even hostility. She walked to Ron's side and put her arm around his waist, pulling him closer. "Now he is," she said in a lusty voice.

Mark stood and walked to the door. "I'm sorry," he tried to apologize, but there was anger, and a hint of betrayal in his voice, "but I can't deal with this. It's too ... weird." He walked out, leaving Ron staring after him sadly.

Chad, Ted, and Bill, however, stayed. "This is kind of ... awkward," Chad said after a moment. "But we've been friends for a long time. I'm not going to throw that away, even if we have to ... change our friendship and interactions." Bill and Ted nodded their agreement.

Ron felt his eyes misting. 'Damned hormones,' he thought. "Thanks, guys."

**********

Ron walked slowly down the corridor, beside the woman from Human Resources. She was uncomfortable and kept glancing at Ron. For his part, he felt like a freak. He was wearing a pair of slacks and a blouse that Jen had picked out for him. With his hair and makeup, the first impression was always that he was a woman.

The meeting with HR had been awkward. Based on the doctor's material, they knew that Ron was physically a woman. They knew that he _should_ be using the ladies' restrooms. They also knew that other women might be uncomfortable, since Ron's status as a woman was temporary, or at least the material from the clinic had so stated. How awkward would it be, they asked him bluntly, if he were using the ladies' room now, and after the process was over, went back to using the men's room? They had advised him, just as Rachel had, that some people wouldn't be understanding or supportive. The odd thing, to him, was that he received the briefing on how _women_ should handle sexual harassment.

Ron paused, closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath.

"Are you ready?" the HR rep asked politely. She understood that he was nervous.

Ron nodded. "I guess so." He tried to smile. "I guess I'm a bit nervous."

"That's understandable," the rep agreed. "I'll go in and start the conversation, if that's okay with you."

Ron nodded. "That should be easier."

The HR rep went into the meeting of Ron's development group, and started a circuitous explanation. She started by reminding everyone of the non-discrimination policies, of the fact that the workplace was strict about tolerance toward people of all races, ethnicities, religions, and sexual orientations. She then used the notes Ron had brought from Rachel and gave an overview of the Morris Henderson process and the Foundation's mission, and that sometimes, they used male volunteers, who were essentially transsexual for the duration of their duty.

"What's all this about?" one guy, who was known to be blunt and outspoken, asked. "This isn't the standard, annual, anti-harassment lecture. What's going on?"

"Yeah," one of the female software developers caught on. "You're making it sound like the company has someone who's a volunteer doing the transsexual thing."

Ron was a good section lead, and he knew when to speak and when to stay silent. The question gave him a perfect, if awkward, cue to enter the room. "We do," he said softly, walking to the center of the room and standing beside the HR rep.

The room fell into stunned silence, as people gawked at Ron. Some figured out quickly who he was, while others were puzzled, not connecting his medical leave with the appearance of this new woman.

"I'm still Ron, inside," Ron continued. The few people who hadn't connected the dots now knew. "But I'm a volunteer with the Morris Foundation, so I had to have surgery to enable me to carry a baby. As the process progressed," Ron looked down, feeling self-conscious, "I would appear more and more female. I decided that it'll be easier to not try to hide anything, but just make the ... transition ... all at once."

Some jaws dropped in surprise. His frank admission of his future role seemed a bit overwhelming to some of the people in his section and department.

"According to the medical records, Ms. MacLaird is fully, completely female, and is to be treated as such in all manners. That includes comments, discussions, and policies of gender equality." The HR rep was unusually stern in her admonition.

"Does that mean," one of the women asked hesitantly, "that you'll be using the ladies' room now?"

The HR rep nodded, but Ron interrupted her. "Because my ... condition ... isn't a permanent change, to keep things from being awkward now and later, I'll be using the unisex restroom, so I don't make anyone uncomfortable."

There was an almost-audible sigh of relief rippling through the women in the meeting; they'd obviously wondered what would happen if they were sharing a restroom with Ron now, only to have him change back to using the men's room later.

"My ... friend ... suggested that continuing to use my male name would also cause confusion. Her argument makes sense, so for the time being, I am going by the name Rosslyn," Ron continued. He held up his badge, showing a new picture of his feminine face, and even though it couldn't be read from more than a couple of feet away, it had the name Rosslyn MacLaird on it.

After a couple more questions, the HR rep left, and the meeting was officially over. Ron — Rosslyn — stayed in the room in case anyone wanted to talk. He — she — was nervous, but she knew that some of her co-workers would have questions.

Most of the guys walked out, glancing warily at Rosslyn. She thought she noticed a couple of unpleasant glares in the mix. Some of the women were very hesitant, while others came up to talk with Rosslyn as if they were old school friends. The attitudes were _definitely_ different, and it was going to take some getting used to.

**********

"This is awful!" Rosslyn cried from the bathroom. "I hate this!"

Out in the kitchen, Jen smiled. "It's only for another day or two. And in a couple of weeks, they'll fix it so you don't have to worry about having a period for a few months."

"It sucks!" Rosslyn cried. "And my bra is getting too tight again."

Jen laughed. "You agreed to the extra growth treatment."

"Only because you wanted me to," Rosslyn countered. "Do you know how heavy these things are?"

Jen waited until Rosslyn came back to the kitchen. "Yes, I do. And in fact, you're not that big — yet."

Rosslyn groaned at her statement. "They feel huge!" She gazed down at her chest. From her angle, and with a male viewpoint, it seemed that her not-quite-B-cup breasts were enormous. "At least Dr. Tina didn't make them as big as _you_ wanted!"

"So I've got a thing for big breasts," Jen laughed. "So sue me!" She walked around the cooktop island and wrapped her arms around Rosslyn. "And whatever size they are, or will be, I think they're very nice," she said, nibbling Rosslyn's ear. "And you don't seem to complain when I play with them."

A shiver went through Rosslyn as she thought of Jen's tongue on her nipples. She did like it — a lot.

"I'm a bit curious, though," Jen continued, "when you're going to let me use some of my ... special toys."

Rosslyn shuddered inwardly. She was having difficulty adapting to being a woman, and the thought of sex as a woman was a little too much. "I ... I can't quite go there — yet," she said, trying to mollify Jen. "Besides, I figured you'd be satisfied with what I do for you."

Jen grinned. "I have no complaints," she said enthusiastically. "You're a quick learner. But I want to make you feel as special as you make me feel. Relationships are supposed to be two-way."

"I'm trying," Rosslyn said, pouting. "I really am trying, but it's a bit overwhelming." She sighed. "The surgery, readjusting to work, growing boobs, having periods. And in a little bit, I'm going to be rather pregnant, too!"

Jen's grin broadened. "I've heard that pregnant women get really horny! I can't wait!"

Rosslyn felt a surge of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, being very horny would lead to lots of attention from Jen, and Jen had promised to make her feel really good. It was what she'd always dreamed of — being intimate with Jen. On the other hand, she wondered if she'd become a nympho. At least, though, her inhibitions might be lowered enough that she'd let Jen do what she'd promised.

**********

"I'm jealous," Jen said with mock indignation. "It's not fair!"

Rosslyn's features clouded. "What's not fair? That I'm going to try to have the game-day party?" She didn't want Jen to feel pushed aside.

"No," Jen answered, a cute pout on her face. "You get to eat everything you want, and you're still losing weight. I have to watch what I eat. And I'm still not as curvy as you're getting," she added, looking very obviously at Rosslyn's developing bust.

Rosslyn blushed at Jen's almost leering stare. "It's not my fault," she said defensively. "It's the meds that keep me from gaining weight, no matter how much I eat, and they're making ... these," she held up her hands in front of her growing breasts, "grow so much."

Jen leered at her. "Yeah, and I _really_ like them growing."

"And don't forget that _you_ were the one who wanted them big," Rosslyn added.

Jen stared for a moment, and then nodded. "I guess I did, so I don't really have a right to feel jealous, do I?"

"They're ...," Rosslyn shook her head slowly, "weird...hard to get used to. It feels like they get in the way of everything, and they're so big!"

"Not yet," Jen smiled, "but give them a little time, and they'll be nice, and large, and firm. Besides, you don't seem to mind when I play with them," she added." She licked her lips seductively, showing her eager anticipation.

"Well," she admitted, blushing, "I can't complain about how you touch them." Rosslyn felt a shiver of delight at the mention of Jen's touch. She had an amazing skill at kissing and licking Rosslyn's breasts that made her feel so good. She frowned. "I feel like the party is pushing you out for the afternoon."

"It's your tradition, and they're your friends," Jen insisted. "You go ahead and have your game day party."

"Are you going to stay?" Rosslyn asked hopefully. "I'm a little nervous."

"Nonsense," Jen said reassuringly, giving Rosslyn a hug and kissed her cheek. "You've known these guys forever, and your game-day party is something I know you look forward to. Besides, since I don't have your diet, I have to spend some time in the gym working out to keep my figure."

"Yeah, but ...." Rosslyn wasn't exactly thrilled that Jen was leaving her alone with her friends.

Jen smiled. "You _do_ want me to keep my figure for you, don't you? So it's off to the gym I go, and you have your party."

"But ... things are different. Mark ... was pretty upset. I don't think it'll ever be the same," Rosslyn answered sadly.

"You've got your other three friends. Have fun." Jen picked up her purse, gave Rosslyn one last kiss, and then strode out the door of Rosslyn's apartment. She put a little extra wiggle in her hips as a show for her girlfriend.

Rosslyn sighed, watching Jen go, and then began to arrange snacks. Already, Jen was having an influence. Ron would have just set out the bags of chips. Rosslyn poured the bags into serving bowls, and set them on the coffee table. She did the same with the dips; the plastic store-containers just didn't fit.

For a brief moment, Rosslyn wondered why she was insisting on being neat serving her guests. Was it her hormones, or was it just because Jen was spending more time with her, and Jen was a lot more fastidious than Ron had been. She shrugged as she convinced herself it was due to Jen.

She put a few beers and some sodas into a large bowl of ice - no Styrofoam cooler for her party! She was just setting out a tray of pretzels when the doorbell rang.

Rosslyn walked casually to the door and peeked through the security peephole. She recognized Chad and Ted, and opened the door for them. "Hi, guys," she said lightly. "Come on in."

Chad and Ted came in, and it was obvious that they felt uneasy. "How's it going?" Chad asked, trying to make small chat, like they had done so often before.

Rosslyn smiled. Normally, the guys greeted each other with a back-slapping handshake, but now, it seemed like the two didn't quite know how to react to her. Rosslyn settled the matter by greeting Chad in their customary way, although she flinched when her breast pressed lightly into Chad's chest. She repeated the greeting for Ted, but more carefully to avoid the awkwardness of breast-to-chest contact.

"Go on and sit down, and I'll get you guys beers." Rosslyn turned to the kitchen, to get a pair of cold brews from the refrigerator. As she shut the refrigerator door, the doorbell rang again. She grabbed another beer from the fridge, knowing that it was probably Bill.

When she opened the door, Rosslyn smiled; her hunch had been correct. "Hi," she said cheerfully, giving Bill the same usual greeting. She took the grocery bag of snacks from his arms. "Ted and Chad are already in the living room. I'll be right in with the first round."

Late in the first quarter, as Rosslyn sat in her favorite recliner and the others spread out among the other two chairs and the sofa, the doorbell rang again. Rosslyn looked confused, and she saw that the others were as well. Shrugging at the interruption, Rosslyn rose and walked to the door.

She was surprised when she opened it and saw Mark. "Hi," she said, her voice uncertain. She extended her hand for a handshake greeting.

Mark shook her hand, uneasily. His eyes dwelt on her outstretched hand, at the rusty-red colored nail polish on her longer, manicured fingernails. He saw the bracelet, with its jade stones set in interlocking silver settings, around her wrist. It was a very pretty — and feminine — design. Mark looked back at Rosslyn, eyeing her critically, as if judging her appearance.

Rosslyn was wearing a simple blouse, which mildly concealed her breasts, and a pair of Capri pants. A necklace, also with jade, adorned her neck, with matching earrings dangling from her earlobes. She was wearing some makeup — a bit of blush, perhaps, and some eyeliner and lipstick. With her hair styled in a very feminine, short, sassy cut, there was nothing remotely masculine about her appearance.

Mark stepped to the side. "I brought Katherine along," he said simply.

"You never brought her before," Rosslyn said warily.

Mark laughed. "I figured you girls could sit in the kitchen and chat while we watch the game." He walked past Rosslyn and plopped into the recliner that Rosslyn had just vacated. "Hey," he called over his shoulder, "can you get me a beer?"

Rosslyn fumed inwardly. Mark had effectively dismissed her as having any interest in the game. She felt obligated to entertain Katherine, despite game-day party with the guys. Mark had put her in an awkward situation. As host of the party, she was responsible. Under her breath, she cursed Mark. Katherine, too, acted like the 'girl talk' was awkward. No doubt, Mark had let her know what had happened.

After Katherine had had a glass of wine, though, the situation seemed to be less tense. She started asking Rosslyn about the experience, and was curious about how Rosslyn was adapting. Rosslyn, too, was warming to Katherine, and enjoying the conversation, even if she was missing the game.

At halftime, Chad found himself in the kitchen with Rosslyn, while Katherine used the restroom and the other guys were still in the living room. "How are things going with Jen?" he asked.

Rosslyn smiled. She couldn’t have disguised her feelings if she'd have wanted to. "We're getting along pretty well."

"How about your love life?" Chad continued. "Are you two ... you know?"

Rosslyn felt her cheeks redden. "That's ... private," she said softly.

Chad laughed. "Must be okay, then." He paused, looking intently at Rosslyn. "It's uncanny how much you look like you were born a woman."

Rosslyn looked down, embarrassed. "Thanks," she said. "I think." She listened to the television for a moment. "I think it's about time for the second-half kickoff," she said.

Chad took the hint, and walked back to his spot on the sofa. Rosslyn stopped by her recliner, expecting that Mark would take the hint and move. Instead, he looked up, and then handed her his empty beer can, as if she was a servant.

With an audible sigh, Rosslyn turned and set the empty can on the kitchen table, then came back and sat down on the sofa. With nothing else to do, Katherine sat down beside her.

At the first commercial break, Mark began telling a very off-color joke.

Ted interrupted. "Mixed company, dude," he barked. Mark ignored the comment and finished the joke, which, from the way she blushed, Katherine found embarrassing. Rosslyn, too, was not amused by the joke; now, it was rather personal to her.

As the game went on, and more beer flowed, Mark got more and more obnoxious toward Rosslyn. She'd known that he was a bit chauvinistic, but his attitude now was insulting and demeaning, almost intolerably so. She realized just how much of a chauvinist and SOB he really was. Rosslyn considered for a moment if the whole experience was making her more sensitive to women's views of the world.

"You wanna do some cheerleading?" Mark's words were slurred from the effects of the alcohol.

"Quit being such an asshole," Chad hissed to Mark. "That's way out of line."

"Whoa, dude!" Mark said, suddenly defensive. "I was just making a joke."

"And like most of your jokes," Chad retorted sharply, "it's pretty tasteless and insulting."

"If you can't be polite to our friend," Ted was sitting on the edge of his seat, his features clouded with anger, "then maybe you shouldn't even be here."

"Yeah," Bill said sternly.

Mark looked chastised. He turned toward Rosslyn. "Sorry," he muttered. "I ... guess I wasn't thinking." It was obvious that he wasn't comfortable with Rosslyn's change, and really didn't know how to deal with her. It was also clear that his apology wasn't heartfelt, but was more because the other three guys had pushed him into saying he was sorry.

"It's okay," Rosslyn answered. "I know it's a big change — for all of us."

Despite the apology, there was tension in the room throughout the rest of the game. As he left, Mark paused. "Sorry. This is just ... weird." His apology still sounded half-hearted.

Rosslyn shook his hand. "I know. But if you think it's weird for you, how do you think it is for me?"

As she started to clean up the kitchen, Rosslyn paused for a moment. She wondered if she was trying to hang onto her old friends, and the way they'd been. It was painfully obvious, from Mark's attitudes and comments, that things had changed in her friendships, and that things might never be the same. She sat down heavily, feeling a tear welling up in the corner of one eye. She felt like she'd lost one of her friends, and relations with the others seemed awkward. Except for Jen, she was alone.

**********

"Even if you decide to have the reverse surgery," Rachel said, "your male friends have to deal with you in a whole new way. You're interacting with their girlfriends on a woman-to-woman basis sometimes. How do _you_ think that will affect your friendships?"

Rosslyn started to answer, but paused to think. "I never thought about it that way," she said. She grinned. "Remember, I'm nae but a simple Scottish lass," she said in a thick Scottish burr, eliciting a smile from Rachel. It was healthy that Rosslyn was trying to keep a sense of humor. "Why would it make any difference that I'm talking to their girlfriends?"

Rachel laughed. "Think about it — your 'girl talk' might include some rather ... intimate ... details that you wouldn't normally hear or know. They might wonder what secrets the girls have shared with you."

"Oh."

"And the guys might worry that, after spending time as a woman and interacting with their girlfriends, one or more of the ladies might see you as a more sympathetic, more understanding guy, and might find you desirable."

Rosslyn's eyes widened. "I didn't consider _that_ angle, either." She shook her head. "Och!" The burr was back. "Tis nae an easy thing for a bonny lass like meself!"

Rachel smiled. "Okay, I'm getting the hint that your burr is a cover for when you're nervous, correct?" She saw Rosslyn's eyes widen, and then she nodded meekly. "How often did you guys share dirty stories and jokes that were 'men only'?"

"We joked around like that all the time," Rosslyn answered, her accent gone.

"If you change back, then some of the guys may think that those types of jokes and comments are awkward, knowing that you've been a complete woman." She smiled. "In fact, I'd venture so far as to say that _you_ would find some of the jokes and comments awkward."

"You make it sound like this was a one-way trip."

Rachel laughed. "I thought that was your intention, wasn't it?"

Rosslyn nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess it was."

"Tell me, how are things going with your girlfriend?"

Rosslyn got a far-away look in her eyes when Rachel mentioned Jennifer. "It's ... wonderful," she answered with a dreamy sigh. "I love being together with her."

"And sexually?" Rachel asked.

Rosslyn felt a thrill at the thought of being intimate with Jen; her nipples were tingling, and she felt warm in her crotch. She caught herself, realizing that she was telling Rachel a lot with her body posture and expression. "It's ... nice. It just keeps getting better and better." She blushed as she thought of Jen's 'toys'.

"Just nice?" Rachel laughed. "Based on your reaction, I would have thought your answer would be a little more enthusiastic."

Rosslyn's cheeks turned red, and she looked down, embarrassed. "It's ...." She looked up at Rachel, as though defying her to criticize. "We're having a pretty varied ... and interesting ... love life."

Rachel put her hand on Rosslyn's, a show of sympathy and friendship. "I wasn't making fun of you," she said softly. "Remember, though, that I _am_ your counselor, and we're talking about a subject that was one of your motivations for joining the program."

Rosslyn looked up, and then she smiled. "I thought you'd say that it was my _only_ motivation."

A grin spread across Rachel's face. "Touché." She picked up her notepad and pen. "On a more serious note, I am glad to see how well you're doing, at least with Jen. It's very important that you let me know how you're feeling emotionally ..."

"Like with my friends?" Rosslyn asked hesitantly.

Rachel nodded. "Yes, like with your friends, and with Jen. Having you emotionally healthy keeps you in a good frame of mind to deal with all the challenges of the program."

**********

"What did I do wrong?" Rosslyn asked with a sigh as she sat down in her office. "It's like ... I wasn't there, at least not to Yvonne and Sam."

The woman occupying the chair beside Rosslyn's desk was older, perhaps in her mid-forties, and a little plump, but still very professionally, and attractively, attired. "I was wondering if this was going to happen."

"What was going to happen, Lois?" Rosslyn asked, her curiosity piqued.

Lois smiled sadly. "You're new to this, so you don't understand, at least not beyond the theoretical," she answered cryptically. She was the department secretary, and had become very important at helping Rosslyn navigate the new politics at the office associated with being suddenly female. "In Yvonne's case, I suspect that she's trying to assert her role as the dominant female in the group. Until you ... changed, she was the dominant woman. Now, she might perceive you as a threat to that role."

Rosslyn wrinkled her nose. "That's silly! I'm her group lead, not a competitor."

"You've never seen 'Queen Bee Syndrome' up close and personal, have you?" Lois asked with a chuckle. "Yvonne is ambitious. Now, you're a competitor."

"I'm her lead!" Rosslyn countered sharply.

"And that makes you an obstacle," Lois said, nodding. "In the workplace, women are far less helpful to the careers of women beneath them. In many cases, women will sabotage the careers of their female underlings, to prevent them challenging her as Queen Bee."

Rosslyn frowned. "So how do I deal with her?" she asked simply.

Lois shrugged. "You can't fight cultural behaviors and expectations. Women don't like working for other women. It wouldn't surprise me to see Yvonne ask for a transfer, perhaps to Jerry's section."

"Do you know something that I don't?" Rosslyn said, almost accusingly.

Lois smiled, almost chuckling. "I can't say," she answered, hinting strongly that she _did_ know more than she was saying, and leaving the implication to Rosslyn crystal clear.

"Great. Now I'm going to lose a good team member," Rosslyn grumbled. She sighed, and then continued. "What about Sam? What's his problem?"

"He was in charge while you were out for your ... surgery," Lois explained. "You've never read his personnel file, have you?"

Rosslyn shook her head. "You know I don't have that amount of authority."

Lois glanced around to make sure no-one was in the door to Rosslyn's office. "Sam's never had good performance evals when he's worked for women. He's a good performer, but he's got some serious issues working for a female lead."

"And I suppose he thinks he should have my job now."

Lois nodded. "He's not happy that you came back into your same position. He's let it be known that he expects to act for you during your next surgery. I wouldn't be surprised if he's planning to make a move for the lead position while you're out, arguing that the critical schedule makes it important that the position be filled with someone more ... reliable."

Rosslyn shook her head slowly. "So even though policies and federal law protects me, I'm still running into people who refuse to accept my position while I'm a woman?"

"That's about it," Lois agreed. "Personally, if I'd have been leading the meeting and Sam had done that kind of crap to me, I'd be at HR filing a discrimination grievance. It was rude, it was sexist, and it was almost misogynistic. And if you don't assert your dominance over men like Sam, other women ..."

"Like Yvonne?"

"Like Yvonne, will see you as weak and make their play for your job. And women don't fight fair."

"I wonder if I shouldn't have just looked for another job somewhere else during this," Rosslyn said softly.

Lois laughed. "That would have solved a couple of problems, but it wouldn't solve them all."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Guys are really torn, and some of the women in the company are ... jealous."

"Jealous? That's absurd!"

Lois nodded. "You may not realize it, but as you've been losing weight, and your ...," she held her hands up in front of her own breasts, "have grown, you've gotten quite a figure. You're an attractive woman."

Rosslyn shook her head in denial. She wasn't attractive, at least, not in her own eyes. Then she paused to think. Jen had been telling her how attractive she was. So had Rachel and Tina...and Beth, the nurse at the clinic. She began to wonder if her own self-image was wrong. Was she an attractive woman?

Lois read the self-doubt in Rosslyn's expression and posture. She stood and took Rosslyn by the hand. She led her to the women's room, and stood her in front of the mirror. "Yes, you are. You may not want to admit it, but it's true, and that's having some effect on interpersonal relationships. Some of the single guys are torn — they see you as an attractive woman, but they remember you as Ron. Single women see you as a competitor." She chuckled. "One of the new hires, who doesn't know your background, asked if you were available. He let it slip that he thought you're a knockout."

Rosslyn shook her head, gazing at her reflected image. Lois was right — she had been in denial. And she was somewhat attractive. As Ron, she would have hit on a woman like Rosslyn. It was a revelation that explained some behaviors around the office, but it didn't help her understand how to deal with them."I guess the diet and meds the have me on have helped me shed a few pounds," Rosslyn admitted.

"A few?" Lois laughed. "I'd _love_ to get some of whatever you're taking, so I could eat as much of my favorite desserts and still lose weight! And your hormones are helping you ... grow ... in very important areas."

Rosslyn sighed. "You mean my ...," she glanced down at the bulges in her shirt, "breasts?"

Lois smiled and nodded. "And in case you hadn't noticed, with the weight loss and a little growth in your, um, rear, you've got an attractive figure, and it's getting sexier as your body continues to adjust. You need to get more self-confidence. You're an attractive woman."

Rosslyn looked in the mirror, turning and examining her body from several angles. "I ... never really looked at myself before," she said. "I guess I _am_ looking more like a woman."

**********

"Ready for the big day?" Rachel asked, easing herself gracefully into her chair.

Rosslyn was sitting in another chair. She was visibly nervous. "Not really," she said sheepishly.

Rachel smiled, but kept from chuckling. "That's not uncommon. I'd have been surprised if you weren't nervous." She picked up her pen and paper. "How are you and Jen doing?"

Rosslyn smiled. "We went shopping the other day. You know, I never liked shopping, especially for clothes, but I had a wonderful day with Jen."

"Have you two moved in together yet?"

"Not yet," Rosslyn answered quickly.

"Are you planning to?"

Rosslyn bit her lip, but tried to recover quickly. "We've talked some, but we don't have any commitments."

Rachel had noticed Rosslyn's hesitancy. "Of the two of you, which one is the reluctant one?"

Rosslyn laughed. "I can't hide anything from you, can I?" She bit her lip again, a nervous affectation that always betrayed an inner conflict. "I guess it's me."

"Why is that? Are you finding that your feelings are ... less intense, perhaps?"

"I love her," Rosslyn said insistently. "I really, really love her. I enjoy all the time we spend together." She looked down. "But she's a little ... kinkier ... than I'm ready for. Her tastes in sex are a lot ... wilder ... than I expected! She wants to do things that I would have never thought of!"

"I see." Rachel scribbled some notes. "I take it you've had some sex."

Rosslyn blushed. "Yeah, some."

"Is it as good as you expected?"

Rosslyn thought for a moment. "It's very special, because it's with Jen."

"But ...?"

Rosslyn smiled. "Again, you know me too well. It's very ... different." She sighed. "The big issue is that she wants to use ... her toys."

"Like a dildo? Or a strap-on?"

"Yeah," Rosslyn nodded. "It's ...." She shook her head. "I can't go there. Not yet, anyway."

Rachel smiled. "You'll either learn to enjoy her in all her sexual desires and fantasies, or ...." She left the sentence hanging, but Rosslyn knew her meaning. If she couldn’t accept Jen's kinky desires, the two of them didn't have much future. "Is there any resolution to the work problems?" Rachel changed the subject.

"Things have calmed down, but I still feel like a leper," Rosslyn noted. "Other women ... seem to not trust me, and the guys — I don't think they know how to treat me."

"You'll get a three-week break from work starting tomorrow morning," Rachel explained. "A little 'cooling off' time might help people figure out how to interact with you."

"Yeah, but my friend Lois thinks that the two biggest problems might make some sort of power grab while I'm out."

"You've got the law on your side — they can't give away your position for a short-term medical issue, and they do have to provide for family and medical leave."

"I know, but I really don't want it to go that far. It'd leave ... a bad taste in the group."

Rachel nodded and made more notes. "You may not have a choice," she said. "In case it comes to that, the Foundation's lawyers are at the disposal of our clients."

Rosslyn's eyes widened at Rachel's statement. The Foundation was huge, financially, and its lawyers made it a legal powerhouse. If it came to a legal challenge, the company was in for a losing fight. "I hope it doesn't come to that," Rosslyn said, wincing at the thought. "It'd be ... awkward."

"You could let us give them notice now," Rachel suggested, "to head off any problems. Or you could sue the pants off them, and retire to a life of luxury with Jen boating around the Caribbean," Rachel suggested with an impish grin.

Rosslyn chuckled. "There's a thought." She thought for a moment. "You're making me think that I _want_ a legal challenge!"

"That wasn't my intention. I just wanted to make sure you didn't worry." She changed the subject again. "Is Jen going to help you the first two weeks after you're back home, when you've got lifting restrictions? Or have you made other arrangements?"

"Between Jen and my friends Chad, Bill and Ted, I should be okay. Ted's girlfriend is going to help out, too. I think I'm covered, but I got a hold of a home medical service and have arrangements with them, just in case."

"Good, but if that doesn't work out, remember that we have a service to help you."

"I'll remember that. Since I won't be able to go out with Jen very much for a while, we're going out shopping this afternoon, and then to dinner and a movie."

"From our discussions, I would guess that you're finding shopping as a woman to be a lot more fun than when you were a guy."

Rosslyn laughed. "It's not the shopping," she countered. "It's the company. I think I'd have fun shoveling shit with Jen."

Rachel chuckled at Rosslyn's answer. "Are you finding day-to-day experiences ... different? Perhaps some things are more enjoyable, some less so?"

Rosslyn thought a moment. "When I went in the mall — before, I didn't think anything about other people. I'd just do what I set out to do, and I never noticed others. Now, though, it's different. It's like ... I feel like it's important to look presentable, because I know that other people notice me. As Ron, I was just another guy. Now, though, I feel ... special. I can't fade into the woodwork."

"You like being noticed, don't you?" Rachel's comment was less a question than a statement of fact.

Rosslyn blushed a bit. "Yes," she admitted softly. "It's nice to know that people notice me." She shifted uncomfortably. Ron had never liked talking about himself, and now, as Rosslyn, she found that she had to, at least with Rachel. It was taking some getting used to. "Back ... before, um, I always sort of faded into the woodwork. I really never got noticed." She looked down. "I always wanted to be noticed by people, to be popular and everything, but I guess I was just too ... average." She looked up at Rachel. "Does that make any sense?"

"Yes, it does," Rachel answered. "It's taking you time to admit to yourself that you're a reasonably attractive woman, and that you are getting attention from others because of it. Your old habits — and thought patterns — of fading into the background are changing. It's good that you can see why, and admit to yourself that you like a little extra attention."

**********

Rosslyn clutched at Jen's arm, pulling her close as they strolled through the corridors of the mall. She enjoyed being close, and smelling Jen's delightful perfume wafting to her nose. "Where do you want to go?" she asked, sounding submissive.

Jen smiled, glancing toward Rosslyn's face. She stole a quick kiss, surprising Rosslyn. "I figured that you're going to be on bed rest for a while, so I thought some lounge wear would be fitting. Maybe a nightie or two, also." She wiggled her eyebrows up and down, signaling that she wanted some naughty sleepwear.

Rosslyn laughed uneasily. She wasn't ready to get something really racy. "Remember, you can't do a lot for a few weeks after the surgery."

Jen pouted. "It's going to be very difficult to keep my hands off you," she said. "You're just so ... sexy!"

Rosslyn smiled. "I'd say the same about you."

Jen led Rosslyn toward a lingerie shop. "Let's see what they have here."

Rosslyn felt suddenly nervous. It wasn't normal for a guy to shop in a lingerie shop. But then again, she reminded herself, she wasn't exactly a guy any more. She decided to look at the idea as a challenge.

Rosslyn came out of the shop, almost in shock. When she'd been Ron, she'd never considered how many types of lingerie a woman had to choose from. And Jen had pushed — hard — for sexy and lacy undies. She had two nighties — one a lacy revealing teddy — in her bag, with two bras, a couple of pairs of lacy panties. Since she was going to be pregnant, she did manage to convince Jen that a garter belt wouldn't be practical. But the teddy hung loose over her belly, so it would be wearable through a few months of pregnancy at least, and Jen was practically drooling over that prospect.

"Do you want some lunch?" Jen asked as they meandered near the food court.

Rosslyn nodded. "That sounds good. What did you have in mind?"

"How about teriyaki chicken?" Jen suggested. "My treat."

"Sounds good." Rosslyn remembered what had been happening with her medications. She was off the 'rapid heal' drugs, and her diet was being closely supervised and monitored. "Remember that I can't eat like I did a few weeks ago! Not unless I want to get Tina and Rachel mad at me, and then spend hours in the gym."

"Okay. I'll keep it small — maybe we'll just split a single entrée." She wiggled her eyebrows like Groucho Marx. "You know I want you to stay sexy-looking! Why don't you just sit down, and I'll go get lunch." Jen smiled. "We don't want to tire you out too much before your surgery tomorrow!"

Rosslyn pouted. "You're starting to spoil me even before the transfer. I can't imagine how much you're going to dote on me once I have the surgery."

Jen gave her a quick kiss. "As much as you deserve." She pulled out a chair for Rosslyn to sit, then strode happily toward the food vendor.

As Rosslyn sat, she slowly realized that guys were looking at her as they walked by. To her surprise, she found herself changing position to a much more feminine position, with her ankles crossed in a modest yet sexy way. Without thinking about it, she thrust her chest out, causing her breasts to be more prominent.

"Excuse me," a male voice said to her side, "I noticed you sitting here alone, and I thought it was wrong for such a pretty lady to dine without company."

Rosslyn started at the intrusion. She looked up, and saw a relatively good-looking guy, attired in fashionable clothing. He had a rugged jaw, and an air of confidence about him. She felt a strange thrill that the man was coming on to her, which validated all the people who'd said that she was an attractive woman. At the same time, she felt a bit of revulsion, like she was repulsed by men.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Rosslyn said, trying to sound sweet, but at the same time discouraging. "My girlfriend," she emphasized the word, "is getting lunch for me." She realized, belatedly, that the man hadn't seen her with Jen and had checked to see if she had a ring, which she didn't.

"That makes her a very lucky woman," the man said, suave in even handling disappointment. He nodded his head toward her slightly. "I hope you have a pleasant afternoon shopping," he said before turning and strolling away.

A few moments later, Jen returned with a tray of food. She set it down, and slid easily into a chair.

Rosslyn shook her head at the sight.

"What?" Jen asked, perplexed.

"I can't believe how graceful you are," Rosslyn complimented her. "Everything you do, and I mean everything, is completely graceful and feminine."

Jen laughed. "You should watch yourself," she said. "Those classes at the clinic are really helping you. You move and act like you've always been a woman. You're very graceful yourself."

Rosslyn frowned for a moment. She hadn't considered that she was acting female. "I ... didn't realize," she said. "Maybe that's why I'm noticing how ... lovely and feminine you are in everything you do. But ... I didn't think that I was even close to you in poise and appearance and mannerisms."

Jen knew that Rosslyn had been taking the classes just for her. Jen had an eye for femininity, and wasn't fond of butch looks or behavior. Rosslyn had been practicing everything — how she held her hands and arms as she walked, how her hips swayed, her facial expressions - every aspect of appearing like a natural woman. She'd been successful far beyond what Rosslyn realized. "Oh, yes!" Jen said enthusiastically. "You're very beautiful, not only in your appearance, but also in your mannerisms."

Rosslyn blushed at the compliment. Even though she was only beginning to admit that she could be attractive, having a man attempt to pick her up, and Jen's compliments on her femininity, bolstered her self-confidence, and that helped her want to be even more feminine and graceful for Jen.

**********

"How are you feeling?" Jen asked from beside the bed.

Rosslyn looked about, groggy from the procedures. "Where ...? Am I ... done?"

Jen clutched Rosslyn's hand tightly. "Yes," she smiled. "You're all done."

Rosslyn let her head collapse back on the pillow. "Seems like ... a dream."

"It's not a dream," a voice sounded from the doorway. "You did it."

Rosslyn and Jen turned to see Beth standing in the doorway. She was out of her surgical scrubs, and was holding a tablet computer — probably, Rosslyn guessed, with her data. "Congratulations."

"Huh?" Rosslyn was confused.

Beth crossed the room and held Rosslyn's hand, as she took a break from studying the tablet. "You're going to be a mother."

Jen's eyes lit up at the statement. She looked down toward Rosslyn's belly, to where the baby had been transferred. "How do you feel?" she asked, almost awestruck.

Rosslyn shook her head weakly. "I can't feel anything," she reported. "I don't know what it feels like."

Beth smiled and took Rosslyn's hand to take her pulse. "You won't feel anything for another couple of hours," she informed them. "It'll take that long for the local to wear off."

"Why did it seem like a dream?" Rosslyn was quickly regaining her alertness and mental faculties.

Beth eased Rosslyn's arm back to the bed. She entered some data in the tablet. "It's the protocol we use. We don't knock the patients out completely. One of our girls, a lovely young lady named Tommi Sue, was the first one in the nation to have done babies both with and without being fully sedated. She hated the feeling of being totally sedated, and the after-effects. We still do full sedation, but it's rare, and we don't recommend it."

"Oh."

"Now, as to your question, it varies from patient to patient. Some patients actually converse with the nurses in the OR. Some feel like they're dreaming. Some take a light nap. It just depends on the patient."

"How ... big?" Rosslyn asked hesitantly, looking down between her still-growing breasts to her stomach.

Beth smiled. "The baby is just under five months gestational age. That means you only have to be pregnant for four months."

"Wow!" Jen exclaimed softly. "This is going to be a very fast pregnancy for you!"

"I don't think I'll mind a short pregnancy," Rosslyn said with a smile. She chuckled. "About the only thing I won't have done is to get pregnant the natural way!"

Jen grinned. "Maybe that's your next adventure!"

Rosslyn's eyes widened with surprise. "You're not suggesting ...."

Jen punched her arm playfully, grinning as she did so. "You know I'm too jealous to let you try that! What would happen if you liked it? Where would _I_ be?"

"Dinna worry, lass," Rosslyn's accent was back. "Tis nae going to happen. I'll nae have relations with any but ye, me bonny lass!" She smiled at Jen, who beamed with joy at Rosslyn's playfulness.

**********

Rosslyn sighed as she looked in the mirror. She felt fat. She rubbed her belly tenderly, almost without thinking. Inside her was a tiny baby, a miracle that she was participating in. As she stared, lost in thought, she felt Jen slip her arms around Rosslyn's waist from behind, pulling her close against Jen. Rosslyn leaned her head back, against Jen's shoulder, as Jen began kissing Rosslyn's neck.

"I thought we were going to go out for dinner," Rosslyn said softly. Her eyes had drifted half-shut as she reveled in the feeling of Jen's lips on her neck and earlobe. "If you keep this up, it's going to be a late dinner."

Jen paused in her ministrations. "I suppose we should go, then." Her hands slipped down to rub Rosslyn's belly. "We can't have our little mother getting hungry, can we?"

Rosslyn purred. "I'm always hungry for you, so if we have dinner first, we can get dessert here later."

Jen slipped her arms from around Rosslyn. "Well, then, let's get dinner."

"Are you suddenly in a hurry?" Rosslyn teased.

"Aren't you?" Jen replied in an anticipatory tone. She opened the door and then took Rosslyn's hand as they walked to Jen's car.

As Jen drove the short distance to Francesco's, Rosslyn sat back and relaxed. Ron and Jen had done many things — as friends; free concerts, errands to the mall, nights out at dinner or drinking — and Jen had been a somewhat aggressive driver. Now, though, when Rosslyn was with her, Jen seemed more careful. Rosslyn wasn't complaining, but she couldn't help but wonder if Jen's caution was related to being with a lover, or the fact that Rosslyn was pregnant. In either case, it made for a more pleasant ride. After the stress of her workday, Rosslyn was enjoying the rest.

"By the way," Jen said, pulling into a parking spot at the restaurant, "I just love that outfit. You look fabulous in it!"

Rosslyn laughed. "You should like it. You helped pick it out!"

"Just shows what good taste I have in clothes," Jen answered with a smile.

The two women walked, arm in arm, into the restaurant. Jen released Rosslyn's arm and strode confidently to the check-in station.

"May I help you?" the young waitress asked pleasantly.

"We have reservations," Jen said. "Party of two, under the name Callahan."

The waitress looked at her info display. "Oh, yes." She looked a little apologetic. "We're running a few minutes behind right now. If you'd like to wait here, or in the bar, we should have your table read in ten to fifteen minutes."

"We'll wait in the bar," Jen replied easily. She turned back toward Rosslyn, who had overheard the conversation. Rosslyn smiled as she, too, turned toward the bar.

The two women sat at a high bar table. Rosslyn was feeling more and more confident in public; she wasn't intimidated by the large number of men who were in the bar.

"7-up?" Jen asked, intimating that she already knew the answer.

Rosslyn smiled and nodded. "Yes, please."

Practically as soon as Jen returned with the drinks — soda for Rosslyn and a glass of white wine for herself, two men approached the table. Rosslyn's face showed her surprise as the two strode easily toward them. They were in their late twenties or early thirties, and well-dressed and groomed. Professional types, Rosslyn judged. There was an air of confidence about them; perhaps they realized that they both had movie-star looks, or perhaps they were well-enough off financially — Rosslyn noticed that their clothes were not off-the-rack.

"Good evening," one of the men said with practiced ease. "I couldn't help but wondering if you two lovely ladies would like some company while you wait?"

Rosslyn noticed that one of the men was focused on Jen, while the other had set his sights on her. Strangely, though, she didn't feel intimidated, but felt ... pretty. It was, in a way, thrilling to feel attractive enough to draw these men's attention, even as she felt a little uneasy at having such feelings.

Jen could have reacted a number of ways; she chose to smile disarmingly at the two. "That's very sweet," she said with a pleasant titter in her voice. "But my girlfriend and I are spending a quiet, intimate evening." She didn't stop smiling, nor did she lose the twinkle in her eye.

The guys took her rejection with grace. "You couldn't have chosen a more suitable restaurant," he said. "I hope you have a pleasant evening." The guys walked casually back from whence they'd come. If they had felt chastened by Jen's rejection, they didn't show it.

Jen grinned at Rosslyn. "You enjoyed that, didn’t you?"

Rosslyn felt her cheeks flush. "No," she lied. "I'm ... not into guys."

Jen laughed lightly. "I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about how attractive and feminine you felt when the guys paid attention to you."

Rosslyn looked down, still embarrassed. "I .... No," she tried to deny what Jen had said. She didn’t sound convincing. "I don't want men paying attention to me."

Jen put her hand lightly on Rosslyn's. "I'm not accusing you of anything. All I'm saying is that I think you enjoyed feeling attractive."

Rosslyn looked up at Jen, and saw the sympathy and understanding in her eyes. "I ... I guess I did," she admitted softly and slowly. "Sometimes, I have a hard time thinking of myself as an attractive woman."

"You need to be confident of how attractive you are," Jen said. "Because you _are_ beautiful ... even more so when you display confidence in yourself."

Rosslyn blushed again. "I don’t know about that."

"You _are_. Having a guy interested in you should tell you that, and if you don't want to believe that, then you should believe the woman who you make hot with desire! If I didn't know better, I'd swear that you'd been born a woman. Your looks, your mannerisms, and the way you talk — it's all so ... natural!"

Rosslyn chuckled lightly. "It should be! I'm still spending a lot of time in classes at the clinic.

"It's worth it."

"It's hard — it takes a lot of time. The evening classes are crimping my free time."

"You can stop any time," Jen said. "You don't have to do that, you know."

"I want to do them," Rosslyn replied, quickly and earnestly. "I want to be attractive for you.

Jen put her hands on Rosslyn's. She had a tiny tear in the corner of one eye. "I .... " She was at a loss for words momentarily, but only just. As soon as she could speak again, she said, with a lusty voice, "You make me so happy."

"I can't wait until your lease is up so we can move in together," Rosslyn said, her voice barely concealing her eagerness.

"Me either. I can't wait until I have you around me all the time. I want to find out if the rumors of pregnant women are true."

Rosslyn blushed at Jen's implication, but inwardly, she felt very pleased at Jen's compliment, and at her eagerness to be intimate with her. It was what she'd always wanted, after all.

***********

"You look ... unbelievable!" Chad said as he looked over Rosslyn from head to toe.

Rosslyn slid into an empty chair at the group's table. The usual gang was present — Chad, Bill, Mark, and Ted, and as usual, Mark had brought Katherine along. He still acted condescending and sexist toward Rosslyn. For the sake of the group, though, she decided to ignore it.

"And you're showing," Katherine added, almost gleefully. "How far along are you?"

"Seven months," Rosslyn said with a smile.

"You've got that pregnant glow," Katherine continued. "It looks like pregnancy agrees with you."

Ted laughed. "I think it's more likely that Jen agrees with her!" He frowned. "Where is she, anyway? She's usually here on Friday nights."

"And hanging all over you drooling with lust," Bill added with a chuckle.

Rosslyn blushed. "I'm not complaining," she answered modestly. "I _like_ having her hanging all over me!"

"So where is your girlfriend?" Mark asked. Everything he said, including a simple question, sounded like he was talking down to Rosslyn.

"She got stuck at their conference because of the snowstorm. She's staying the night, and hoping to catch a flight home tomorrow."

"Why haven't you two moved in together?" Katherine asked as she sipped her wine.

Rosslyn shrugged. "We've got another couple of months before either of our leases is due, and we don't want to have to deal with the penalties. It's not cheap for either of us to break a lease early."

"I suppose that you already did the cost-benefit analysis of that, too," Bill joked. He knew that both Jen and Rosslyn were technical professionals, and wouldn't let an analysis like that pass.

Chad sighed and shook his head. "This is so unreal, man," he said, half to himself.

"What?" Rosslyn asked, although she was sure she knew what he was talking about.

"You," Chad said, almost in awe. "If I didn't know better, I'd never have guessed that you were Ron just a few months ago!"

"Thanks," Rosslyn said. Now, unlike early encounters with others, she felt confident, and her poise and speech reflected that. "Jen likes it when I'm very feminine."

"You're succeeding," Katherine commented. "Did you pick out that dress, or is Jen still doing most of your wardrobe selection?"

Rosslyn smiled. "I did," she said proudly. "Jen's letting me pick out some of my outfits now. In fact, she insists on it, and then I get 'graded' on how well I'm doing! She says that she's getting me trained in proper fashion."

Mark and Ted were looking at Rosslyn with a strange expression on their faces.

"What?" Rosslyn asked, when she noticed. "What are you guys staring at?"

Ted shook his head. "I hadn't noticed how much your voice has changed! You sound so ... female!"

Rosslyn smiled. "I had a tiny bit of vocal surgery to tighten my vocal chords, and I've been taking voice training at the clinic to sound more feminine. It wasn't easy at first," she added, "but it's getting to be second nature now."

Mark frowned. "You look like a chick, you sound like a chick, you walk and talk and move like a chick. Man, you've totally changed."

"Thanks."

Mark’s frown deepened. "That wasn't exactly what I meant."

Rosslyn was fed up with Mark’s crap. "Look, I made a decision. It's my life, and I'm happy. I'm not telling you that you have to do what I did. Why can't you accept me, and my choice? Or does this somehow make you feel threatened, or afraid?" In the corner of her eye, Rosslyn saw Katherine trying not to snicker at her words to Mark.

Mark turned a few shades redder than he had been. "That's not ...!" he sputtered, angry enough that he couldn't finish his protest. "I'm not _threatened_ by whatever perverted things you do to yourself!" He abruptly stood and stormed off, leaving his friends behind.

"Sorry about Mark," Katherine stumbled through an apology for her boyfriend. She stood and followed Mark out of the restaurant.

Ted was the first to break the silence. "Well, that was awkward," he said, in an unexcited tone.

Bill laughed. "Yeah, but I'm not going to let his mood spoil the evening."

The dinner conversation turned back to safe topics, and the remaining four friends were having a pleasant evening. Before dessert, though, Bill and Ted had to leave; only Chad and Rosslyn were left.

For the briefest moment, Rosslyn wondered if it was an awkward situation. Others in the restaurant could mistakenly believe that they were on a date. She quickly discounted the notion. She and Chad had been friends for a very long time, and there was no reason for anyone to think anything else.

As Chad and Rosslyn were waiting for dessert, Chad poured himself a little more wine, and absently, not thinking of Rosslyn's contract, he poured a glass for her.

After the unpleasantness with Mark, Rosslyn was relieved, and perhaps a little too relaxed. Without thinking, she picked up the glass of wine and took a sip. They conversed some more, and Rosslyn sipped again, and then again. By the time dessert had been served and the check delivered to the table, Rosslyn had had a glass and a half of wine. Since she hadn't been drinking at all for over four months, and since her body weight had been reduced, the effect was far more than either Chad or Rosslyn expected.

Rosslyn lurched to her feet unsteadily. She felt light-headed, and surprisingly pleasant and warm inside. Chad realized quickly that Rosslyn was inebriated. He gallantly insisted on driving her home, to avoid the chance of a ticket or accident, ignoring how buzzed he was.

At Rosslyn's apartment, she invited Chad in for a little more wine. The two were chatting happily, like old times; it was what Rosslyn needed, a bit of nostalgic connection to her past friends and interactions. She was thoroughly enjoying Chad's company.

**********

Rosslyn's eyes opened slowly, and slammed back shut as the bright morning light through the light shades overwhelmed her eyes. Her head throbbed painfully at the slight motion. She paused and took a couple of deep breaths to try to relax and allow the pounding in her head to diminish.

As awareness slowly crept into Rosslyn's brain, she realized that something felt wrong. There was someone in bed with her. For a brief moment, she thought it was Jen, which would explain one of the mysteries, but not the throbbing in her head.

Then Rosslyn remembered that Jen had been snowed in, and wasn't home yet. But ... she got a sinking feeling as she tried to figure out what was going on. When she slowly turned her head, she saw a man's head and the top of his torso, lying with his back to her.

Rosslyn contemplated the events of the night before, and realized that she couldn't remember. 'But that was impossible,' she told herself. She hadn't .... Slowly, she remembered drinking a little wine. She felt a huge pang of regret — she wasn't supposed to drink _anything_ with alcohol! And since her memories were hazy at best, she knew that she'd had enough to get drunk, and do ... whatever she'd done. And get a headache after.

Cautiously, she slid from under the cover and walked very gingerly to the bathroom. Once she had voided her full bladder, Rosslyn looked in the mirror as she washed her hands. She looked like hell; her eyes were barely open, her makeup was badly smudged and smeared, and her hair was totally disheveled. Worse was the feeling of something dry on her thighs and lower abdomen. With a sickening certainty of what had happened, she took a washcloth to her lower body to clean up the mess.

That done, she sighed heavily, padded back to the door, and peered into the bedroom. Clothes were strewn about — on the floor, on the chair, hanging on the doorknob. Her clothes, and men's clothes, too. She stood, looking at the clothes, and at the back of a man in her bed, and she tried to piece together the events.

She'd been having dinner with Chad, Ted, and Bill. Ted and Bill had left, and she stayed to have dessert with Chad. She realized that, out of habit, she'd had some of the carafe of wine, having forgotten the rules in a moment of feeling like she was 'one of the boys' again. And more wine? Obviously, she realized. And then — had Chad given her a ride home, because she was too tipsy?

Rosslyn knew that being pregnant had messed up her hormones quite significantly, and that she was easily and frequently aroused. So ... had she decided, being a bit drunk, to experiment with Chad? That explained quite a bit. She reeled at the thought; she'd been unfaithful to Jen, and had slept with her friend. She shuddered inwardly at the thought of having made love with Chad. It felt ... gay. It felt like an affront to her sexuality. When that feeling was added to the knowledge that she'd cheated on Jen, she felt almost total revulsion toward herself.

Chad rolled over, and looked at her. His expression conveyed both contentment and shock at what he was slowly realizing they'd done. Slowly, he sat up, taking care to ensure his lower body was covered. "Um," he began hesitantly, "did we ...?"

Rosslyn nodded slowly. "I'm pretty sure ...," she started to say. "Yes." There was no point pretending that it was a maybe. The feeling in her crotch and the mess she'd just cleaned up left no doubt in her mind.

"Shit," Chad swore softly. "This is ... pretty awkward."

"No kidding," Rosslyn agreed. "I think we were both a bit drunk," she said, trying to make an excuse for their behavior. "I know I didn't mean for anything like this to happen."

"I didn’t either," Chad said with a sigh. "Maybe I'd better go to the bathroom, and then we need to talk about it?"

Rosslyn nodded. She walked uneasily from the bathroom and picked up her robe. As she slipped it on, making sure it was closed in as unrevealing a manner as possible, Chad picked up his pants and went into the bathroom.

A few minutes later, they were sitting in the living room, Rosslyn still in her robe, and Chad in his clothes. Neither wanted to look at the other, and the silence hung palpably between them. Finally, Rosslyn broke the ice. "It ... wasn't supposed to happen," she said slowly.

"I know," Chad answered, looking at his hands in his lap. "Now what?"

"It didn't happen," Rosslyn answered quickly.

"But ... it did," Chad rebutted, confused.

Rosslyn shook her head. "No. As far as anyone else is concerned, it didn't happen."

Chad shook his head, as he continued to stare at his hands. "This is going to be ... awkward."

The sound of a key in the lock seemed amplified. Rosslyn looked toward the door, her face horror-stricken, as the door opened.

Jen walked in, towing her suitcase, looking a bit tired and disheveled. "I caught a red-eye so I ...." Her words cut off abruptly as she took in the scene in front of her — Rosslyn in a robe, and Chad sitting uncomfortably on the sofa. Rosslyn's expression was a mixture of guilt, embarrassment, and shock. She looked at Chad, and saw the same expression. It only took Jen a second to understand what had happened. "You ...." Her mouth hung agape for a moment as she struggled to find words. "You ... didn’t! Tell me you didn't!" she said in a hurt voice, tears starting to form in her eyes.

Rosslyn started to open her mouth, but she couldn't find any words. "It ...." she began, stammering. "It wasn't ...." Her own eyes were watering as she realized that she had no excuses. Jen knew. "I went to dinner with the guys last night. I ... had a little wine by mistake."

"You don't drink, because of the program!" Jen accused, wiping her face. "Don't try to tell me that you got drunk and didn't know what you were doing!"

"That's what happened," Rosslyn said softly and earnestly. "I ... forgot for a moment and had some wine. The next thing I knew, it was morning."

Jen shook her head, not wanting to believe what the evidence suggested, but unable to deny the reality. "How could you do this to me?" she cried. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Rosslyn stood, ignoring the pounding in her head, and walked toward Jen. "I'm ... sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean for anything to happen." She reached out to give Jen a hug, trying to find some way to let Jen know that she was very sorry.

Jen backed away, still crying. "Don't touch me!" she cried. "You cheated on me!" Before Rosslyn could say another word, Jen angrily threw her key on the floor and ran from the apartment.

Rosslyn, still in her robe and barefoot, chased after her. She was at the edge of the parking lot when Jen slammed her car into gear and, with a screech of rubber on the pavement, sped off. The trickle of tears running down Rosslyn's face became a torrent, as she realized the magnitude of what had happened, and how badly she'd hurt Jen.

**********

Rachel looked up from her computer as Rosslyn slumped into a chair. "You don't look very happy," she commented. She walked over to the informal area where Rosslyn sat and eased herself into a chair.

Rosslyn shook her head. "My life is crap right now," she said. She sounded bitter, and the look in her eyes was dejected. It reminded Rachel of the look after Rosslyn had been rejected by the clinic.

"I presume that we're going to talk about it," Rachel said cautiously.

Rosslyn nodded glumly. "That's what you're here for, isn't it?"

"It would help if you started by describing what you meant by 'your life is crap'."

Rosslyn didn't move from her self-pitying, slouched position in the chair. She didn't look at Rachel, but rather at the floor. "I ... accidentally ... hurt Jen," she said, feeling the tears start again and not caring. "I hurt her pretty badly."

"How did you do that?"

Rosslyn sighed, and then told Rachel the story. She was very hesitant when she explained how she'd, out of old habit, had a few sips of wine, which had turned into a glass, and then being drunk enough to sleep with her friend. She related the story with great trepidation, fearing a backlash from Rachel for breaking the rules of her contract.

When she finished the story, including the numerous attempts to talk to Jen, only to have her phone calls refused and her text messages unanswered, she looked up fearfully at Rachel, fully expecting to receive a tongue-lashing.

Rachel sat calmly, poised, but her eyes were narrowed and her lips pressed tightly together. She looked at Rosslyn for several long seconds as she contemplated what she was going to say. "As you probably expected," Rachel began in a soft, even tone, "I'm not very happy on two counts. First, you violated the terms of your contract. You _know_ that alcohol is banned, and yet you not only had a drink, but you got drunk enough to do something that could endanger the baby." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, visibly fighting to control her emotions. "If you didn't already have the baby, I could kick you out of the program for such a breach of contract."

Rosslyn looked down, ashamed of what she'd done. "I know," she said in a timid little voice. "And I'd deserve it, too."

"The second reason I'm not happy is because you've probably destroyed part of your social support network. Jen was a major part of your reason to sign a contract with us, and she's been your biggest fan and strongest supporter. Without her ...." She shook her head slowly. "From here, you know that your relationships with your male friends have to change. You know that the others are going to find out, and they're going to see you in a totally different way."

"I know," Rosslyn answered.

"You can't count on them for support any longer," Rachel said. "You may find that you have to break off those friendships, or seriously curtail your interactions with them."

"I'd already figured that out."

The two women talked for another hour about how Rosslyn was dealing with losing Jen, and what she'd done and planned to do in an attempt to apologize. When Rachel finished talking to her, Rosslyn walked slowly down the hall toward the nurse's station. "Hi, Beth," she greeted her friend.

"Hi, Rosslyn," Beth responded cheerfully. She saw the look on Rosslyn's face, and she knew that something was up with the woman. "What's up? You aren't scheduled for a checkup."

"Rachel ordered few extra tests," Rosslyn explained sheepishly.

"Oh?" Beth saw Tina slip up silently behind Rosslyn, but she decided not to say anything.

"Yeah. I sort of ... had some wine last night at dinner," Rosslyn admitted.

Beth frowned. "From the looks of you, I think you need to define 'some'."

"I ... got a little drunk," Rosslyn said, looking down at the floor in shame. "And what's worse, I ended up sleeping with one of my old friends."

"So Rachel wants me to run some blood tests on you and also do some fetal blood tests to make sure you didn't harm the baby, right?" Dr. Tina spoke up, startling Rosslyn.

"Yeah," Rosslyn said. She looked at Tina, ashamed of what she'd done, and when she realized that Tina wasn't judging her with some malevolent glare, the tears started. "I didn't mean to," she started blubbering as tears trickled from her eyes. "And ... and Jen ... knows," she continued, barely able to speak through her sobbing, "and ... she left me!" She collapsed into Tina's arms, burying her head on Tina's shoulder as she wept and wept.

"I can't do anything about Jen," Tina said, "but we'll make sure the baby is okay."

"She won't return my calls," Rosslyn continued, crying. "She won't return my texts, either. I ... lost her!" she wailed. "I did something stupid while she was on a trip, and I lost her! I deserve to be kicked out of the program," she continued, wallowing in self-pity and self-directed anger. "I hurt the baby, and I screwed up my relationships, all because I was so stupid!"

Tina held Rosslyn, trying to calm her. "We'll check on the baby," she reassured Rosslyn. "It's against policy, but I really doubt that you hurt the baby with a few glasses of wine."

"But Jen left me," Rosslyn sputtered through her tears. "And at work, everyone treats me like I'm a leper or something!" She sobbed for several seconds while Tina rubbed her shoulders comfortingly. "I should have listened to Rachel. I wasn't ready for this! I should have never done this!" She continued to cry on Tina's shoulder for several long moments.

Tina held Rosslyn by the shoulders and straightened her up. "Let's take care of the first things — we'll get the tests done so we can make sure everyone is physically okay."

Rosslyn nodded somberly. With Tina holding her arm, Rosslyn walked down the hall to an examining room. She quickly put on the gown, and then sat on the table waiting. Tina came back in a few moments. "We'll do a fetal Doppler to make sure the heartbeat is okay, and we'll get blood from you for testing."

"Are you going to do an ultrasound?" Rosslyn was nervous.

"Not here. I'll do that as part of the fetal blood test." She saw a worried expression on Rosslyn. "It's not a major procedure, but we will have to have you stay for a few hours to monitor you and the baby after the procedure, okay?"

Rosslyn nodded. Once Dr. Tina had begun her work, it was no use trying to chat with her; she was all business. Beth drew blood samples from Rosslyn, and then had her give a urine sample. Dr. Tina listened carefully for the baby's heartbeat. She seemed satisfied. Next, Beth led Rosslyn to one of the operating rooms. Rosslyn's eyes widened as she walked in. Beth sensed her trepidation. "Don't worry. This is just to make sure everything is sterile, and we already have the equipment here. It's a pretty minor procedure, and you'll be okay."

Dr. Tina and Beth scrubbed, and thoroughly disinfected Rosslyn's belly. Then Dr. Tina used an ultrasound to view the baby. She nodded with satisfaction as she noted its size.

Rosslyn paled when she saw the long needle and syringe. "You aren't going to stick that ... in the baby, are you?" she asked, terrified.

Dr. Tina shook her head. "No, I'll take a sample from the umbilical cord. It's far safer for the baby." She smiled. "And you won't need any anesthetic; it's just a minor prick and some pressure." Guided by the ultrasound, Dr. Tina inserted the needle, and in a few moments, had her desired blood sample. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Er, no," Rosslyn answered.

"The lab work will confirm it, but based on what I see, you didn't do anything harmful to the baby." Her brow furrowed. "But I don't want this to _ever_ happen again, got it?"

Rosslyn nodded meekly. "Yes, ma'am," she said solemnly. "I think I learned my lesson. And it was a pretty costly lesson," she added bitterly.

"How do you think your friends are going to react?" Tina asked.

"I don't know. I think I'm going to have to back way off with them, and possibly never deal with them again. At least not like I used to," Rosslyn answered. She really didn't know how the guys were going to handle what she'd done, nor how she'd ever repair her friendship with Chad.

"That may be a bit of an over-reaction," Tina observed.

"What would _you_ do if you were in my shoes?"

"I don't know," Tina answered. "I'm not in your shoes. I do know that when a woman sleeps with a friend, it can mess up the relationship."

Rosslyn's chuckle sounded hollow and forced. "You're starting to sound like Rachel," she observed dryly.

Tina grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. As long as Rachel and I have been friends and colleagues," she said, "I'm not surprised that she's rubbing off on me. What are you going to do to make up to your girlfriend?"

Rosslyn wiped at a tear. "I ... I don't know," she said sadly. "She won't return my calls or texts."

"She will. Eventually, she'll realize that you made a mistake, that you regret it, and that you're sorry that you hurt her."

"I hope so," Rosslyn said, not sounding at all convinced.

**********

Rosslyn sighed at the chaos in the meeting room. "Guys," she said, trying to get the meeting back on track, "one meeting please!"

Sam glanced her way, and then turned back to a couple of his co-workers. "Has support given us any more bug report and data?" he asked.

Rosslyn frowned. "Sam, this is _my_ meeting. I'm the lead, remember?" She looked at the suddenly-nervous co-workers that Sam had been interrogating. "Sam's question is a good one. Do we have any more bug reports, or any additional data from customer support?"

The two guys glanced uneasily at Sam, and then turned to Rosslyn. "Nothing new for data."

Sam interrupted. "Marketing is starting to panic. The social media isn't being kind to us for these bugs."

"Yeah, I know," Rosslyn said, still trying to stay calm in light of Sam's blatant attempts to upstage her.

Sam harrumphed then turned away from Rosslyn. As Rosslyn continued the meeting, she noticed that Yvonne hadn't spoken a word, but had merely sat, looking angry.

After the meeting, when people were leaving, Rosslyn called to Sam. "Sam, a moment please."

Sam looked at her with an expression of distaste. "What?"

Rosslyn waited a few seconds while the rest of the team filtered out of the conference room. "In case you forgot, I'm the team lead," she said firmly.

"Well, maybe the team is used to working with me managing them, since you were out on medical leave for so long," Sam sneered back at her.

"I'm not implying that you didn't do an acceptable job acting while I was out."

"I did better than acceptable," Sam replied angrily.

"You did a few things that weren't in the team's best interest," Rosslyn replied.

"That's your opinion." Sam's response was hostile. "I think you're just jealous because I did a better job than you, and the others know it."

"I have no reason to be jealous," Rosslyn answered, feeling her jaw clenched in anger. Sam was getting under her skin.

"I think that with your repeated absences, you're a liability to the group," Sam continued. "I don't think you can handle it all — the job, your change, being pregnant. I think you're over your head, and the team is suffering."

"That's your opinion," Rosslyn replied, forcing her voice to be calm. "Management doesn't agree."

"They'll see soon enough," Sam snarled before he turned and stormed off, leaving Rosslyn standing, stunned, in the conference room.

A few minutes later, after a restroom stop, Rosslyn stopped by Lois' desk. "Have you got a minute?" she asked.

Lois followed Rosslyn into Rosslyn's office, and shut the door behind her. "What's up?"

Rosslyn had to take a deep breath to control her anger. She realized that she was shaking from her frustration, and the dismissive way Sam had treated her. As soon as she calmed down, she related the incident to Lois.

"You need to report this to HR," Lois said resolutely. "This is blatantly over the line."

"But ... the team ...." Rosslyn started to say.

"No woman should have to take the kind of crap that Sam was giving you," Lois retorted. "You have to report this."

"I don't know ..."

Lois took Rosslyn by the elbow. "We're going to HR — right now!" she said firmly.

Rosslyn was so shaken by Sam's display of hostility that she didn't protest. She was instead grateful that she had Lois for support.

**********

Rosslyn held her phone to her ear, an uncertain but still expectant look on her face. Her expression changed with each unanswered ring, through desperation, then despair, and finally, hopelessness. Still, she waited, until finally she could take it no more. Lowering her head sadly, she terminated the phone call. Rosslyn's eyes were beyond just misty; tears trickled down her cheeks. She'd blown it with Jen. In one night of stupidity, she'd gotten drunk and betrayed Jen, and because of that, everything she'd wanted her whole life was lost.

On one hand, she couldn't condemn Jen for being angry, because she knew that she'd feel upset if Jen had done a similar thing to her. On the other hand, she remembered their childhood years, and the seeming contests to see who could do the most stupid things. Sometimes, they'd hurt each other emotionally, but they'd always forgiven each other. She was expecting that this would be like the other times, and that Jen would realize how sorry Rosslyn was, and forgive her. That hope faded, though, each time a message or phone call went unanswered.

Rosslyn had left text messages on Jen's cell phone. She'd left messages on her answering machine. She'd left messages at Jen's office. All had gone unanswered, as if they'd disappeared into a black hole.

This time, though, stung worse than the rest. Jen had turned off both the voicemail function on her cell phone and answering machine, making it crystal clear that not only wasn't she ready to listen to an apology, but she didn't even want to hear Rosslyn's voice. And so Rosslyn's tears flowed freely as she sank into a chair and cried.

Eventually, she dabbed at her cheeks, and pulled herself up from the chair. She took a moment to wipe her eyes, and then drove to the clinic.

When she looked up, Suzie immediately knew that something was wrong. "Good morning, Rosslyn," she said cheerfully, even as she tried to assess Rosslyn's mental state. She'd been crying; that much was obvious. Her makeup was smudged, and her eyes were red. She hadn't bothered to touch up her makeup, either. "What can we do for you today?"

"Is ... is Rachel in?" Rosslyn asked in a small, timid voice, without looking directly at Suzie.

Suzie knew that Rosslyn was having a rough time with the breakup with Jen. They'd talked some in the gym while they both worked out. Naturally, Suzie assumed that today's unexpected visit had more to do with Jen. "I'm sorry," Suzie said, genuine regret in her voice, "but Rachel left last night to fly to a meeting at headquarters."

Rosslyn visibly deflated at the news. "Oh," she said simply. She wearily turned to leave the clinic.

"If you want to talk," Suzie volunteered quickly, "I've got a break, and we can go to the gym or one of the break rooms." Suzie had learned, over the years, that when a client looked visibly distressed, she was not to let that person leave the clinic without talking to someone. In this case, it was left to Suzie to chat with Rosslyn, while one of the other staff members found a counselor who was free or could be interrupted.

"I guess," Rosslyn didn't sound too sure of herself. She let Suzie lead her out of the lobby into the clinic, to one of the break rooms.

It was empty at the moment, so Suzie gently pushed Rosslyn down into a chair at the table. "Would you like some juice? Maybe something to eat?"

Rosslyn hadn't noticed how empty her stomach felt. She hadn't had much appetite for a couple of days, since Jen had left. "I guess."

Suzie wished desperately that Rachel wasn't at headquarters. She had learned enough to know that Rosslyn was showing all the symptoms of major depression. She was grateful for her evening classes in psychology at college, where she was secretly studying to be a counselor. Suzie admired Rachel, and wanted to better herself, so she gravitated toward that role. Never, though, had she thought that she'd have to rely on what she'd studied quite so quickly.

Suzie got two cups of orange juice and a cup of applesauce from the refrigerator. She set the applesauce and one of the juice cups in front of Rosslyn. "You look a little tired," she said to break the ice.

Rosslyn nodded slowly as she played in the applesauce with a plastic spoon. She wasn't really hungry. "Yeah."

"Have you gotten much sleep since ...?" Suzie was hesitant to mention Jen's walkout, because she knew it was a sensitive topic.

Rosslyn shook her head. "No," she admitted softly. "I ... don't feel like sleeping. Not after what I did to Jen."

Suzie put her hand on Rosslyn's as a gesture of sympathy. "I know you regret what happened. And it's natural that Jen is upset and feels betrayed," she said. "But friends forgive each other, and you told me that you and Jen were best friends since you were kids."

"Yeah, but ...."

Suzie shook her head, cutting off Rosslyn's protest. "When you were kids, did you do some things that hurt each other?"

"Yeah," Rosslyn answered slowly, "I guess we did."

"And sometimes, you hurt each other pretty badly, right?"

"Yeah."

"But you forgave each other, because your friendship was too valuable, right?"

Rosslyn nodded slowly as she stared at her untouched juice cup. "But this time, she won't even listen to me. She won't return my calls, or my messages," she said, fighting back tears as she spoke.

"You need to give her time," Suzie said softly. "She's hurt, and she needs time to deal with that, to get past the hurt, and get back to the friendship and love you share."

"I hope so," Rosslyn said, sounding not in the slightest hopeful.

"If Rachel were here, she'd tell you that you need to come in every couple of days to talk to her — or one of the other counselors — to help you deal with this." She smiled sadly. "I'm not Rachel, so I can't make an order stick, but you know I'll tell her as soon as she gets back, and she _will_ give you an order. So you might as well save the fussing and come in."

Rosslyn nodded. "Okay." She tried to laugh, but wasn't completely successful. "And I'm going to tell Rachel that you're trying to take her job."

Suzie grinned. "I don't _want_ her job!" she said with a smile.

"Can I ... talk ... with you?" Rosslyn asked hesitantly? She saw the shocked expression on Suzie's face. "I don't have a lot ... of friends," she said meekly, looking back at the table. "Just you and Tina and Rachel and Beth. And ... I ... need to talk to someone ... I trust."

"Sure," Suzie said warmly, turning her chair so she could give Rosslyn a hug. She knew that, once in a while, a hug was worth a million words, and Rosslyn looked like she could use a hug. Inwardly, Suzie was both pleased and terrified that Rosslyn wanted to talk with her while Rachel was out. She was delighted to have Rosslyn's confidence, but very much afraid that she wasn't skilled enough, or experienced enough, to help her.

**********

Dressed in her business-casual outfit — fashionable maternity pants and a conservative but very feminine blouse, Rosslyn strode into the meeting room. She noticed that the hushed whispers stopped as soon as she entered. Rosslyn walked to her seat at the head of the table and sat down. She opened her laptop and brought up a display.

To one side, sitting against the wall, a representative from Human Resources sat, mutely watching. Her presence was ominous to the group, and Rosslyn knew it. Still, it couldn’t be helped — not after what Sam had done before, and what Lois had helped her report to HR.

Rosslyn looked up from her computer. "Okay, everyone," she began in a strong, commanding tone, "we've got at least four major bugs in our software." She looked at one of the guys. "Ben, what's the status on attempting to recreate problems one and three?"

Ben didn't look at her. He was scowling, and seemed unhappy. "I haven't been able to recreate number three," he reported in a clipped tone.

"And it would help if Yvonne's group would give us a good test configuration," a second guy said curtly. He glared at Yvonne as he spoke.

Rosslyn frowned to herself. She had at least two who didn't seem to want to act like part of a team. "Yvonne is busy with a code fix for the fourth problem," she rebutted sharply.

"You don't need to stick up for me," Yvonne said in an acid tone.

"So are you making progress with your discrepancy?"

"No," Yvonne glared at Rosslyn.

"Get with Sam and start looking at the data exchange library," Rosslyn directed, ignoring Yvonne's outburst and trying to stay positive.

"The problem isn't related to the data exchange library," Sam sneered. "But then, if you knew the code base ...." He left the demeaning statement hang.

Rosslyn wasn't about to put up with Sam's crap, or Yvonne's. She had a project she had to get fixed. "I may not know _this_ code baseline as well as you," she said, working to keep an even tone, "but I _did_ spend a lot of years coding similar functions. I've seen these types of interrelated problems before."

"If you want us to waste our time on a wild goose chase ...." Sam said, not meaning to be heard by everyone.

Rosslyn took a deep breath to avoid an angry reaction to Sam's comment. "I want a tagup every morning at eight sharp. We're going to review the status and get actions assigned to clear these problems. If necessary, we can pivot the team to refocus if we find something unexpected. The tagup will be no longer than ten minutes. Okay?" She saw the team nodding, with enthusiasm varying from high to grudging acceptance of direction. "As of right now, you aren't to spend any time on training, status reports, or any of the other 'distractions' that always happen. Any questions?" When no-one said anything, Rosslyn continued. "Okay, then let's get back to work."

As Rosslyn walked back toward her office, she almost ran into Sam, who was coming out of the men's room. He glared at her, lifting his head as if he were superior to her, and snorting derisively.

"Do you have a problem with my direction?" Rosslyn asked bluntly.

Sam pressed his lips tightly together, as he took a few deep breaths. His flared nostrils and narrowed eyes gave away his anger. "No, ma'am," he said curtly. He side-stepped Rosslyn and stomped back to his cubicle.

Rosslyn sighed as Sam went, and then she strode to her office. She paused by the secretary's desk. "Can we talk a minute?" she asked Lois.

Lois followed Rosslyn into her office and, without an invitation, sat down. "How did the meeting go?"

"After the meeting, HR said that it was clear that Sam was being insubordinate, and wasn't playing team ball. What's worse is that Ben and Yvonne are also pretty resentful."

"You know that Sam has applied and interviewed with another section?"

"Why am I not surprised?" Rosslyn asked rhetorically. "This used to be one of the most cohesive, motivated teams in the company. Now, it's almost totally dysfunctional." Rosslyn shook her head sadly as she faced an unpleasant possibility. "Is it me?" she asked Lois. "Is there something about being a woman that I'm doing wrong, so I'm not a good manager?"

Lois smiled. "I think most of the problem is that the team doesn't know how to treat you," she said. "But I will admit that having to file a complaint against Sam didn't help. Everyone is jumpy now."

"He deserved it," Rosslyn countered. "You said so yourself."

Lois nodded, still smiling. "I wasn't saying that he _didn't_ deserve it, but when you have to take a step like that with an employee, word gets around. Everyone is nervous, like they're afraid it'll be their turn at the gallows. As far as I can see," she added, "you're not doing anything wrong. You can't hold yourself accountable for their failures."

"I can if the team dynamic is ruined, and we fail to deliver what the company expects."

**********

Rosslyn knew it was hoping for a lot, especially as time ticked by slowly, and she sat at the table, alone, waiting. She'd left a request with Jen that she please, please meet her for lunch at Francesco's. She sipped slowly on a glass of lemonade, her back deliberately turned to the door. If - and at this point she figured it was a huge if — Jen did show up, she would be delighted, but she didn't want to watch people entering the restaurant, and being constantly disappointed when Jen wasn't one of those people.

"You asked to see me?" It was Jen's voice, but she sounded ... distant and reserved.

Rosslyn turned, surprised and pleased that Jen had come. It was the first time in over a month and a half that Jen had responded to any of her invitations or requests. "Would you like to sit down?" she asked, trying to sound cordial and polite.

Jen shrugged. "I guess." She slid into a chair.

Rosslyn forced herself to look directly at Jen, even though she was still very embarrassed at what had happened. "I wanted to tell you, face to face, how very, very sorry I am at what happened. I know I hurt you ...."

Jen's eyes narrowed. "You have _no idea_ of how much you hurt me," she snapped. "How would you feel if I had done that to you?"

"I don't have any excuses," Rosslyn said sadly. "But I want to explain things to you." She waited to see if Jen was going to say anything. Apparently, she wasn't. Rosslyn continued, "Everything in my life changed, and I badly underestimated how much it was going to affect me. It was kind of overwhelming."

"No kidding," Jen said sarcastically.

"Please, Jen," Rosslyn pleaded softly. "Let me finish. The one thing that hadn't changed was how I feel about you. You are my anchor in a sea of turbulent waters."

"I don't know what you want, anymore," Jen said. "I thought that you wouldn't ever do anything like that to me."

"I didn't intend to," Rosslyn answered softly.

"Did you at least enjoy it?" Jen's words cut Rosslyn's heart.

"I was drunk," Rosslyn defended herself. "I don't know what happened!"

"I don't believe you! You're on contract to not drink!" She started to stand.

Rosslyn felt her eyes misting. Jen was still very angry. "Please, Jen, ask Rachel at the clinic, or Dr. Tina! They both know what happened!"

"Why should I believe them? They're interested in you being happy, and they'd probably lie for you!" She wasn't sounding logical, but very emotionally upset.

"They all chewed me out!" Rosslyn countered. She was losing her battle against the threatening tears. "You can ask them!"

Jen stood, glaring at her for a moment, uncertain what to do.

"It wasn't supposed to happen! I didn't want it to happen!" She wiped at her tears. "I'm very sorry I hurt you! That was the last thing I wanted to do! I was just stupid, and trying to hold on to my old friendships, and I didn't realize that I had to change them."

"It's a little late to realize that," Jen said before she turned and walked from the restaurant. Behind her, Rosslyn's tears began to flow freely as she realized that Jen might never forgive her for her stupid mistake.

**********

Every move, every step, every conversation, everything was an effort for Rosslyn. Not only was she "great with child", as her mother used to say, but she felt like she had nothing left. Her friends — one flat-out rejected her, two others didn't quite know how to deal with her, and so they were keeping her at arm's length, and the fourth had seduced her when they were both drunk, and it was too awkward to deal with him. Jen had left her. At work, most of the women shunned her, while the men were very wary and distant, because she'd had to file a harassment grievance against one of them. She felt alone, against an uncaring world. If it wasn't for the clinic, and the friendly faces there, Rosslyn didn't know how she'd get through the days.

After Suzie had greeted her with a hug, and then told her that Rachel was expecting her, Rosslyn waddled down the hall to Rachel's office. Even though the door was open, she knocked.

Rachel looked up from her computer monitor. "Come in, Rosslyn. Come in." She snatched up a pen and a pad of paper, rose, and scooted around her desk to give Rosslyn a hug. "You're looking quite ... "

"Pregnant?" Rosslyn completed her sentence.

"Well, yeah, I guess," Rachel laughed. "But I was going to say that pregnancy seems to agree with you. You look radiant."

"Radiant as the sun behind thick storm clouds," Rosslyn retorted sarcastically.

Rachel gestured for Rosslyn to sit, and took her own chair. "Jen still hasn't returned your calls?"

Rosslyn shook her head. "I'm not expecting her to, either. I hurt her too badly. I don't think she'll ever forgive me." She sounded exactly how she felt — dejected.

"These things take time to heal," Rachel said, careful not to promise anything to Rosslyn, but to encourage her to not give up hope.

"In a couple of weeks, I'll have the baby, and then I'll be done."

"And then what?"

Rosslyn snorted derisively. "And then? It doesn't matter, I guess. I had a crap life as a guy, and I've ruined my attempt at being a woman. Either way, I lose."

"You did something that few women, let alone men, do, which is to give a baby a chance at life!" Rachel put a positive spin on the experience. "Not many people can say that they made that much difference to a child."

"I guess. I almost blew that one, too," she said in a self-pitying voice. Rosslyn leaned her head back and stared blankly across the room. "Might as well get a tissue sample to start growing my man parts again," she said as if discussing the weather. "And schedule a surgery."

Rachel grimaced inwardly, but she kept from showing it. "I didn't think you'd go back. To being a man, I mean," she added quickly. "You've put a lot of time and effort into looking — and being — completely female."

"That was for Jen," Rosslyn reminded her. "Now there's no reason to keep up the charade."

"Forget about Jen for a moment. What do _you_ want to do?"

"I dunno," Rosslyn sighed. She gave a single ironic chuckle. "I guess I figured out why you don't want people with transsexual wishes into the program." She shook her head, her eyes half-closed. "Look at me — I _knew_ I could do this, and my life would be so much better, but in the end ...." She shook her head sadly. "It doesn't make a difference."

"You still love her, don't you?"

"Well, duh!" Rosslyn snapped. "Of course I still love her! And no matter what, I always will love her." She leaned back and sighed heavily again. "But I blew it." Before Rachel could speak, she gave a derisive snort. "At least one thing will turn out okay — if I don't mess up the next couple of weeks, that is."

Rachel smiled. "You'll do just fine." Inwardly, she wasn't nearly so confident. Rosslyn was suffering major depression over losing Jen. When post-partum hit, she was going to be extremely sad, enough that Rachel thought about having her 'observed' as an in-patient for a couple of weeks. She could easily convince Tina to come up with some excuse, some complication, to keep Rosslyn at the clinic, and under observation. She'd seen Ron in his bout of depression over not making the program, and she saw how Rosslyn was doing without Jen. When the baby was taken away, too, it was going to be hell for her.

**********

"Lois!" Rosslyn said loudly, but without shouting. She winced again at the pain.

Lois appeared in the door to Rosslyn's office. "Yes?"

Rosslyn was leaning back in her chair, her legs stretched out, and her hands cradling her stomach. Her face was contorted with pain, and beads of sweat were dripping from her forehead.

Lois knew immediately what was going on. "Can I drive you, or do you want an ambulance?"

"My bag is in my car, if you can drive me over."

Lois nodded. "How far apart are they?" Having had three of her own, she knew the signs of contractions that she saw in Rosslyn.

"I don't know. Seven, maybe eight minutes."

"Okay, when this one is over, we're going to get you to your car. Do you think you can walk?"

Rosslyn grimaced at the discomfort, and then nodded weakly. "Yeah," she panted through the pain.

Fifteen minutes, and one contraction later, Lois pulled Rosslyn's car past the guard and into the parking lot of the Morris-Henderson OB hospital, which was connected to the rear of the clinic. Rosslyn's next contraction started just as Beth started wheeling her inside.

"I guess it's time," Beth said. "And I bet you thought this day would never come."

Rosslyn tried to smile at Beth's easy-going attitude. "There were times I was starting to wonder."

"We'll go straight to your room, since your paperwork is already done." She grinned. "And you thought we were wasting your time at your last checkup when we made you fill out all the forms."

"You're efficient," Rosslyn tried to smile. The pain of the contraction eased.

Four hours later, Beth was holding Rosslyn's hand and trying to keep her positive, since she had no-one to help her. The contractions were much closer, and seemed more painful. Rosslyn chickened out and got an epidural, and almost immediate relief from the next contraction.

"How are you doing?" Rachel called from the doorway.

Rosslyn turned her head to see her. "Peachy. This isn't exactly fun, you know."

Rachel smiled. "Tell me about it. I've done three surrogacies and two of my own."

Rosslyn looked at her in awe. She wasn't sure she could get through one, and Rachel had delivered five babies? She felt suddenly inadequate. Her life as a man had been empty, and she'd ruined this one as Rosslyn. She had nothing left. In a bit, the baby was going to be born, and then she wouldn’t even have that! Tear started flowing freely as she began to sob.

"You're doing okay," Rachel reassured her as she held Rosslyn's hand. "It's going to be okay."

"No, it's not," Rosslyn blubbered. "I ruined two lives now. I just realized that after I have this baby, I won't have anything left! I lost my old friends, I lost Jen, and I’m not wanted at work. And then the baby will be taken away, and I'll never even hold him!"

Rachel rubbed her hand. "You're going to be okay. Right now, it's not fun, but when it's over, you'll be okay. You've got us."

"Until I change back," Rosslyn sobbed. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She looked up suddenly. "It's late. You need to get home to your family."

"Nonsense," Rachel replied. "You need someone here with you, and I volunteered."

"Knock, knock!" A voice sounded at the door — a familiar voice.

Rosslyn glanced toward the door, but Rachel was blocking her view. Rachel, too, was looking, and she frowned when she saw the visitor. Rachel's frown sent a shiver of dread through Rosslyn.

"I ... thought you might need someone with you," Jen said meekly, walking to the side of the bed.

At that moment, Tina, in her scrubs, came into the room. She glared at Jen. "This isn't a convalescent ward," she said sharply. Tina knew who the newcomer was, and she made her unhappiness at Jen's presence known through her demeanor.

"I wanted to be with Rosslyn," Jen said softly.

Tina looked at Rachel. Her expression was plain as day. Tina didn't trust Jen, especially since Rosslyn was in the middle of childbirth. She didn't need Rosslyn getting upset again. She started to open her mouth to order Jen out, but she saw Rachel shake her head 'no'. "If you're going to stay, and that's up to the patient, then you'll need to get cleaned up and get in scrubs," Tina said instead.

Rosslyn glanced at Rachel, before she nodded her consent for Jen to stay.

"Okay." She let Beth lead her to get prepared. In a few moments, she was back, and at Rosslyn's side, holding her hand. She winced at Rosslyn's powerful grip as the pain overtook her; even dulled by the epidural, the contraction hurt.

As soon as it was over, she glanced at Tina. "I'm glad I got the epidural."

Using one hand, Jen patted Rosslyn's sweaty forehead with a damp washcloth. "I've been thinking a lot," she said softly. "I guess I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to realize that you were hurting, too."

"I'm sorry, Jen," Rosslyn apologized. She wiped at her sudden tears. "I really, really am so sorry, and I wish I could undo what I did. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt you."

"I should have thought about how much you did for me," Jen answered. "I'm sorry I was being so stubborn." She leaned over and kissed Rosslyn on the forehead. "I ... want to come back, if you still want me."

Rosslyn's eyes widened with surprise, which was quickly displaced by joy. She glanced up at Rachel, who shrugged and smiled. Rosslyn looked back at Jen. "Um, I'm kind of in the middle of something, here. Can I get back to you on that when I'm finished with what I'm doing?" she asked playfully.

For a moment, Jen was surprised that Rosslyn hadn't gushed forth a "yes" answer. But then she understood how playful Rosslyn was being, and she started to giggle. "Only if I can stay here to help out while you think about it."

Tina looked up at Rachel. Though only her eyes were visible above her mask, she made full use of them to convey her expression of doubt to Rachel. Rachel, on the other hand, appreciated that Jen had come back — and not a moment too soon. She turned her attention back to Rosslyn. "So you'll have twice the moral support," she said with a smile.

Rosslyn was puzzled. "But ... you've got family at home, and it's getting late."

"And I have a patient here that needs my help," Rachel countered firmly.

"But ... Jen is here with me now!"

Rachel smiled. "And I know that's got to be a huge boost for you, emotionally. But it's my prerogative, as director and your counselor, to decide whether I stay with you or go home. So I'm staying." The unspoken truth was that Rachel had seen just how badly Jen had hurt Rosslyn, and she didn't quite trust Jen. Not yet, anyway.

A bit later, when Jen stepped into the rest room, Rosslyn quizzed Rachel directly. "Are you staying because you don't quite trust Jen right now?"

Rachel shrugged and nodded. "She didn't go to the classes with you. All she can give you is moral support, to help your mental state. Right now, you also need someone who understands what's happening, and understands the Lamaze technique well enough to coach you."

It took another hour, with Tina coming and checking periodically, while Rachel helped coach Rosslyn, and Jen held her hand and comforted her. Finally, Dr. Tina told Rosslyn that she was fully dilated, and that she should start pushing. Twelve minutes after that, Rosslyn's baby was born.

While the staff got busy with all the details of post-birth, Jen just hugged Rosslyn, both of them crying and wetting each other's shoulders.

Rachel gave Rosslyn a firm squeeze on her hand. "Congratulations," she said simply. "You helped another baby live, and your efforts have given another family a precious son."

"Thanks," Rosslyn said in a soft, weak voice. The travails of childbirth had sapped her energy. "For everything." She smiled. "Now you need to get home to your family."

Rachel smiled at Rosslyn. "I'll be by in the morning." With that, she turned and left, leaving Jen alone with Rosslyn for the first time in months. Both were obviously delighted by that turn of affairs. Rachel sighed contentedly. Another baby born; another success. And success with Jen and Rosslyn. She didn't know what the future held for them, but she was sure that the present looked good. She knew that Jen was going to be a major factor in Rosslyn's trip through post-partum. She smiled to herself. Jen was good for Rosslyn.

**********

Jen wiped at the tears on Rosslyn's face. "What's wrong?" she asked, concerned by the sudden sadness in Rosslyn. They were in Rosslyn's room, and it had been a day since she'd delivered the baby. If things went well, and they seemed to be, then Rosslyn would be discharged in the morning.

"I don't know," Rosslyn said, fighting the urge to cry. "I ... miss it!"

Jen's eyes widened in surprise. "Being pregnant?"

Rosslyn nodded. Her battle against tears was a losing one. "I ... can't explain it, but I miss it."

"Rachel told me that you'd probably have some post-partum depression," Jen explained. "She said to remind you that she's available to help you."

Rosslyn nodded silently.

"I can't believe you did it!" Jen said, awe in her voice. "That was ... incredible!"

Rosslyn sighed. "If it was so incredible, why am I sad?"

"You carried that baby for four months. You brought him into the world. That's a pretty huge responsibility, and a lot of bonding. Rachel said it's natural to miss everything." She saw Rosslyn's eyes widen. "Yes, I've spent some time talking to Rachel, so I'd know how I can help you."

"How about before ...?" Rosslyn's question hung awkwardly.

Jen looked down, ashamed. "She called me," she admitted. "And at first, I wouldn't listen to her, either." She looked Rosslyn in the eye. "Do you know how persistent she can be?"

"So ...?" Rosslyn started hesitantly, not knowing how to continue the conversation. She was terrified of saying or doing something that would offend Jen — again.

Jen laughed. "She told me all about everything. How sad you were that you hurt me, how much you got chewed out, everything."

"Even though Rachel told you, I need to say it. I'm so very, very sorry that I did something stupid and hurt you. I wish there was a way to go back and undo that mistake."

"I know." Jen seemed a bit sad.

"What's on your mind?" Rosslyn asked, realizing that Jen was hiding something from her.

Jen tried to deny it, but she realized that her expression was giving her away. "I'm ... scared," she said in a frightened little voice. "What comes now? Rachel said that you weren't sure if you were going to change back or not." She wiped at her cheeks, which had suddenly become wet. "I don't want you to change back!" she said plaintively.

Rosslyn smiled. "I don't think I can," she said. "I've been spending too much time in classes, changing my voice, my mannerisms — everything about me. I don't think I could ever go back."

"Okay," Jen said hesitantly. There was obviously something that she wanted to say, but was afraid of asking.

"And you want to know where we stand, is that it?"

Jen nodded, not saying a word, for fear of what Rosslyn might say.

"To be honest, I'm scared to death of losing you ... again. I know we have some issues to work out." Rosslyn sighed. "But as soon as you're ready, I'd like to move in together," she added with a smile.

Jen leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Rosslyn. "Thank you, for forgiving me, and for putting up with my stubbornness."

"And you put up with my ... quirks," Rosslyn answered, returning the embrace.

"There is one thing I'd like, though," Jen said hesitantly.

"And that is?"

"Um," Jen was clearly nervous about the topic on her mind, "someday, I'd like to have a family. I wondered if you'd ... you know, carry a child for us?"

Rosslyn laughed lightly. "You might want to ask again later — after the memory of labor and delivery isn't so fresh in my mind." She smiled. "But yes, I'll carry a baby for you, if you want. After ...."

"After ... what?" Jen asked warily.

"After _you_ carry our first child, conceived with my frozen, um, samples, that were taken before I had the surgery."

Jen stared, open-mouthed, for a moment, and then she nodded slowly. "I guess it's unfair of me to ask you to do all the hard work, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Rosslyn said with a smile. "Just think — if _you_ carry the baby, then it's truly _our_ baby, from both of us!"

"Our baby ...." Jen said wistfully, as she mulled over Rosslyn's suggestion. "Our baby. That sounds nice."

"And then, if we want more than one child, I'll carry the second one," Rosslyn agreed.

"I should have never doubted you," Jen said, still hugging Rosslyn tightly. "I love you, and you always show how much you love me."

"And when I'm cleared by Dr. Tina, I'll show you something else," Rosslyn said with a naughty hint in her voice.

**********

FIN