This is an expanded version of a story I posted a few weeks ago. I am lucky to have assistance and suggestions from two of this site’s finest writers, Angela Rasch and Emma Anne Tate.

When we went to bed that night I gave Ali an extra cuddle and kiss, which I thought she not only deserved but probably needed after the day’s traumatic events. I had barely changed into my nightie when there was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Come in.” Obviously it had to be Ali.

She stood in the doorway looking stricken, pale and afraid.

“What’s wrong, love,” I asked.

“Can I sleep with you tonight? I’m scared.”

I knew it would be very wrong to refuse her. This was a frightened child, not a cocky self-assured sixteen-year-old. Yet I had been accused of harbouring Ali for my lecherous purposes. Should I tempt fate? There’s no doubt this is about her needs, not mine. Maybe questions would be asked about a sixty+ year-old sleeping with a sixteen-year-old girl but I would deal with those if I had to. “Of course you can, my dear. Here, you take that side.”

My bed was queen-sized, so there was plenty of room. I climbed in, as she joined me. I held out my hand and she clutched it desperately. People might think it strange but she needed that reassurance. After the events of the day I could hardly blame her.

As for me I was still simmering inside as a result of her parents’ attack. I didn’t know how much sleep I would get. I turned out the lights and held her hand as gently as I could. After about five minutes her breathing slowed and became regular so I knew she was asleep. Giving comfort to her must have also soothed me too because the next thing I knew I woke up in the morning being spooned by her.

Daylight was squeezing round the edge of the curtains so it must have been later than five a.m. I had slept much better than I expected but I was still burning with righteous indignation. I let the girl sleep for a while longer. It’s a great healer.

So I got up and did some of my computering. It doesn’t make any noise and allowed her a couple more hours of rest.

With the resilience of youth she came awake much calmer than she had been last night and gave me a sleepy smile. That somehow served to blunt the edge of my displeasure, too. My mood lightened.

Now we were both awake it was shower time, so we departed to our bathrooms and did our morning business enjoying the freshness of warm water and scented soaps, although I had to use Imperial Leather today, not Dove.

Since I had to be Mac I dressed slightly more formally in long pants and a business shirt. No need for a jacket in Brisbane’s summer climate. Ali wore some of the clothes that Arpi had given her, a blue denim miniskirt and a pink top decorated with a very colourful multi-tentacled octopus. It had short sleeves. I wanted Lisa to see the bruise that her father had left on her arm.

Breakfast today included pancakes with maple syrup and bacon. I poured orange juice, made coffee and swallowed my pills. I didn’t mind; that was probably commensurate with my capabilities. How does she know I love maple syrup? I also made a mental note to get her a couple of aprons while we were in town to protect her nice clothes.

And we would probably visit Woollies while we were there. The car park was underneath and I reckoned we would finish our business with Lisa in an hour and a half, or thereabouts.

Woollies is in the basement of the Macarthur Building where the eponymous general had made his headquarters in World War Two after being forced out of the Philippines. He wasn’t well liked as his strategy was to let the Japanese take the whole of our country north of here. It was probably a good idea as long as you weren’t living there.

It’s all been renovated now, of course, and houses specialty shops at ground level and offices above, including those of my lawyer.

It's an easy drive into the city from my place, ten minutes if you dodge the rush hour, so with a 10:30 appointment we had no problems. The Monday before Christmas was thinning the traffic, too. Car parked and up to the 10th floor and we were sat in the reception area five minutes early. Lisa didn’t keep us waiting and we were in her office right on time.

After greeting us with tea, coffee, and biscuits and an introduction to Ali she started the proceedings. “Mac, the police have sent me the video you took yesterday and your statements. Do you have anything else?”

“I’ve got the video and audio I took of their first visit. I didn’t give them this one.” I passed my phone across.

She took a few minutes to look at it. “Not so friendly that time but they didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t have the full story and we can probably extend the charges to ‘wasting police time’. It’s obvious from your second video that the allegations were malicious, and your statements certainly support that.”

“I was hoping we could get the bastard thrown into jail,” I said. “That would stop him.”

“Sorry, I don’t think we could make that stick, but what I can get the cops to try is for a heavy bail for him, assault as well as attempted abduction, a fine, and a restraining order for the pair of them.” Turning to Ali she asked, “Do you know how much your father makes in a year?”

“I’m not sure but I think it’s about two hundred thousand.”

“Right, we’ll ask for bail to be set at that. We probably won’t get it but a hundred thou will make him gulp. Just thinking out loud, I’ll ask for restrictions on alcohol and drugs, too, and maybe even a curfew. Look, I’ve got the two police officers on stand-by so do you mind if we make this a conference call?”

“I don’t, what about you, Ali?” I responded.

She nodded.” Please. I’m looking forward to it.”

Lisa is another ball of fire.

It was the work of a moment to get the police officers on the line. We actually got all three, PCs Brown, Sayers and Williams. There was a Skype connection so we had video and audio.

Lisa asked them if they were comfortable with that and they said they were as long as they got a copy of the transcript, to which she readily agreed.

She went back to the first visit and even though it didn’t show them in the best light they confirmed that they only had half the story and Ali’s parents hadn’t been telling them the truth. Yes, they had been wasting police time.

Worse, they had lied to them about Ali’s situation, alleging that Alistair had run away from home and he had delusions about being a girl. Brown and Williams were willing to testify to that. They were going to be in the front line at a hearing.

Lisa told them that she would like them to ask for an injunction today, a restraining order and bail including a curfew and alcohol and drug abstinence. Were they happy with that?

It seemed they all would have liked for Ali’s father to have the book thrown at him but knew the restraints of the legal system so agreed to her plan. They also knew that they had a sympathetic magistrate on tap.

Lisa transferred all the data to their phones straight away and added an up-to-date picture of the bruise on Ali’s arm. It was nice to have the cops on side for once. The legal system required that, in this situation, they were the principals. With that done the call with the officers was terminated.

She called in one of her assistants and instructed her to liaise with the police, giving her all the details. The young lady went off to give it her all.

Turning to us she told us we’d better be realistic. “We won’t get all of that today. The best we can hope for is a temporary injunction and a restraining order. The rest will depend on a proper hearing and submissions in court before a magistrate. It’s a pity this happened over the holiday period. We won’t get a full hearing until after New Year.”

“Still, the cops will give them both a fire-and-brimstone warning and let them know in no uncertain terms what will happen to them if there are any further disturbances involving our young lady here. They are as keen as we are to see this arsehole taken down. I’m sure a magistrate will agree.”

“Sorry, Ali, that’s a legal term for arsehole. With a bit of luck we should have an injunction in place by close of business today.”

I can see why I like her.

“Now, let’s get down to why we’re really here. Ali, I have to ask you some questions that you may not like but you must answer them honestly, and remember, anything you tell me is entirely confidential but I have to record it. It will go no further.” She smiled. “First, are you completely certain you want to be a girl?”

Ali answered immediately. “I don’t WANT to be a girl. It’s not a choice. I am a girl.”

Lisa grinned. “That’s the right answer to my first question. Do you want medical intervention to help change you physically into a girl?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m sure I don’t want to become more male.” She shuddered.

“How about if we got you on to puberty blockers? Would you be OK with that? So far you’re lucky that male puberty hasn’t really hit you.”

“Anything you can do to stop me from becoming hairy and horrible will be fine with me.”

“We can do that. I’ll get it started in a minute.”

She turned to me.

“Mac, where do you stand in all this? Are you OK with everything so far?”

“Look, Lisa, I just want what’s best for Ali, and I want us to be on the right side of the law. We originally came to see you because I didn’t know if there were specific difficulties relating to the transgendered, and the other stuff got in the way.”

“Well, we’ve done what we can about the ‘other stuff’, so a couple of questions for you.” She moved some papers on her desk. “This has to be a new case for me so are you instructing me to proceed with it?”

“Yes, unequivocally. Start a new file or whatever you have to do to make it official and send me the bill.”

“OK, consider it done.” Lisa made a few notes. “You’ll have to apply to be Ali’s guardian to give this legal force, and you’ll both have to agree to this. It won’t officially become legal until next year, but if Ali’s willing you can act in loco parentis in the meantime, that’ll give you some legal standing. OK with you, Ali?”

Ali glowed. “Does that mean she replaces my parents? Awesome!”

Ooops!

A sly smirk passed over Lisa’s face. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Mac?”

“Nothing important or relevant.” I patted Ali’s hand. “Yes, dear, that’s what it means.” I tried to give her a glare but I don’t think it registered.

Maybe that ‘she’ sort of went unnoticed. I can only hope.

“Anyway, there’s little difference between the situation for a heterosexual child and a transgender one as far as domicile for a sixteen-year-old is concerned. The main difference is in the treatments available from state to state for transgendered children. There is a clinic at the Royal Brisbane Womens Hospital, but it’s only available to those 17 years or older so Ali doesn’t qualify and puberty blockers cannot legally be prescribed in Queensland until age eighteen, which is generally too late to be effective, but in New South Wales a general practitioner can do it as long as he or she believes it to be necessary.”

“So what can we do?” I asked.

Lisa tapped her desk with her pen and thought for a moment.

“Well, I think you should get Ali into a programme as soon as possible. Puberty could hit at any time, so how do you feel about a trip to Tweed Heads? It just so happens that I have a friend there who’s a GP and has dealt with TG kids before. I can give her a call right now.” As you know, Tweed Heads is the border town and still actually part of the Gold Coast. One side of the main street is Coolangatta in Queensland and the other side is New South Wales.

Ali and I looked at each other and nodded our agreement. Lisa picked up her phone and asked for Dr. Gower.
She was answered a few seconds later, after being transferred by a receptionist.

“Hello, Sue.” She apparently was on friendly terms with the person at the other end.

She went on to explain that she had a client in urgent need of the blockers that were not available north of the border and asked for her help. Some further conversation took place and then she asked me if we could make a twelve-noon appointment tomorrow.

Naturally we agreed. Ali was very keen.

Before we concluded our meeting she had also given us the address and contact details for a support group for TG people here in Brisbane. They could do nothing official but provided a friendly voice at the other end of a phone and had regular meetings at locations around the city. Sometimes a friend was all that was needed.

As we were leaving Lisa pulled me aside and gave me that knowing eye.

“Mac, I’m your lawyer. Anything you want to tell me will always be confidential. Do you have a deeper interest in this kid’s transgenderism? We’ve been working together for over two years now. You’re not my normal client, you know.”

My stomach sank. She knows, or at the very least she suspects. Have I been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs? I’m not ready for this. I don’t want to deceive her…. but not yet! Not now!

“Thanks, Lisa, for everything, and Merry Christmas,” I evaded the implied situation.

She gave me a sad smile, “Yes, Merry Christmas. I’ll be in touch with any developments. Take care, both of you.”

Once Ali and I were alone I told her off over her slip in calling me ‘she’ in front of Lisa, but I don’t think I came over as ‘fierce’ enough.

“Sorree, I will try to be more careful; I promise.” She tried to look penitent but it didn’t quite ring true.

We went down to the shops and soon found a pair of aprons in one of the specialty boutiques, nothing too flashy but quite feminine and capable of keeping gravy stains and sticky stuff away from nice clothes. We also bought Ali a swimming costume. That made her smile.

Then we went to Woolworths and did some mundane purchasing for things we had missed before and fillers to tide us over Christmas. They do a mean mince pie and I got an extra dozen even though we had already bought some at rival Coles. I also bought a few packets of Australia’s favourite, and mine, chocolate biscuits, Tim-Tams, dark chocolate of course.

With our shopping done it was off home again. As I was in male mode I just had to relax into my usual spot on the sofa, but I shucked off my long pants, socks, shoes and business shirt and got back into my second preferred gear of polo shirt and shorts. Of course, I had created a monster by getting her a swimming costume. It was a one-piece and she wanted to get it wet, so, next thing we were down at the pool.

That was OK by me. I could sit and watch her enjoying herself while I lay back on one of the poolside chairs with a book and some towels. I pretended to read while I watched her cavort in the water. Of course I should have known it wouldn’t last. No teenager can resist splashing the nearest adult, which was of course me. I stood it for a while and then I grabbed her and surprised the hell out of her by jumping into the pool with her in my arms. I was fully clothed, even us senior citizens are allowed a little madness occasionally.

Shrieks of laughter. We attracted the attention of our Building Manager, who also thought it was funny. We dried ourselves off enough to go back inside without leaving puddles in the corridors and lifts and went up to our apartment, where we had to get changed.

So later, in dry clothes, we did relax on the sofa, me with one arm around her and her head on my shoulder.

“Thanks for this morning, Joanne. I like Lisa. She made me feel so good.”

“She’s a great person, and very good at her job. She’ll get the best outcome for you, never fear. And you, you little horror, have got to be careful when you call me Joanne.”

“I already said I’m sorry, didn’t I?”

“So why do I have this feeling you really didn’t mean it?”

“I did, honestly!”

I tickled her until she said, “I did, I really did! Stoppit!”

“All right, don’t let it happen again.”

“Nossir!”

That didn’t feel like a real apology either but was probably as good as I was going to get.

I hadn’t forgotten but a reminder is always welcome. I had been invited to have Christmas lunch with my family. Kylie, my daughter-in-law, rang me to confirm that everything was copacetic for the day. It was my opportunity to ask her if I could bring an unexpected guest. Of course, she was curious but I just told her that I had been saddled with a teenage girl as a guest and I didn’t want to leave her sitting on her own while we enjoyed ourselves.

Kylie is a kind soul and she didn’t have any problem cooking for seven instead of six. I promised I would give her the full story when we sat down for our lunch. The ‘seven’ had come about because her mother, Joy, would be down from Toowoomba and would be there for lunch too, so one more was fine.

With that settled I suggested that Ali and I could go and have dinner at The Ship Inn. We wouldn’t have to get dressed up.

She had expressed an interest in trying their food and it was a casual stroll up the road.

That suggestion was met with her approval and I didn’t want her slaving over a hot stove every night at home, even if she was the self-appointed chief cook. I rang to check that they weren’t booked out and they weren’t so that was a definite ‘yes’.

At about six o’clock we ambled along the footpath for the five hundred metres to the pub, still in daylight at that time of the year. We sat outside in the pleasant summer warmth and had a nice meal. I had the roast lamb, always a favourite of mine, and she had a chicken salad.

Afterwards she declared that it was OK but she thought she could do better. I asked if she was serious about doing a course at the TAFE, Technical And Further Education, college and she said she would really love to. She had tried to convince her parents that it would be a good thing but they weren’t interested. Not active discouragement but indifference can be equally devastating.

There’s one just five minutes’ walk further up the road from my place so I told her we would enrol her there when the Christmas-New Year break was over. I realised that I was treating her like I would a daughter, planning her life for her while I really didn’t have the authority to do so.

Anyway, be that as it may, it was a problem for the future.

Back home we watched a bit of TV and then we both started playing with our computers. Mine was the usual with my TG friends and I did introduce her to my favourite site, mainly because it had many beautiful stories dealing with TG issues, but apart from that I made no attempt to monitor her own usage. She could watch what she wanted to watch.

I did shut her down at about eleven o’clock because we were going to have to drive down to Tweed Heads the next day. It’s about an hour-and-a-half’s journey and this close to Christmas there would likely be heavier-than-normal traffic. I didn’t want us to be late.

At bedtime, she appeared in my room again in her nightie, giving me those puppy dog eyes. I knew what she wanted.

“You can’t make a habit of this, you know.”

“Just for tonight,” she pleaded.

“All right then, just tonight, OK?”

She gave me a smile that would have melted what’s left of all the ice in Antarctica and jumped into my bed in case I changed my mind. I sighed. At least I wouldn’t have any trouble getting her up in the morning.

I set my alarm for seven thirty and climbed into my side, turning out the light. I was asleep in moments and so was she. I was glad she didn’t snore.

Waking up was a repeat. Somehow during the night we had spooned again. I’ll have to get her a teddybear. Most people wouldn’t understand but I had no sexual feelings for her. The love I felt for her had its own name, ‘agape’. She had opened up my heart and I just wanted her to be as happy as she made me.

The alarm hadn’t stirred her so I gently shook her awake and sent her off to do her business, shower and get dressed while I did the same.

I told her not to cook this morning and heated up the mince pies we bought yesterday in the microwave while I made the coffee and poured the juice. We sat on the balcony enjoying the view of the river and the city and that was breakfast.

At around nine, Lisa phoned to tell me that the Morgans had been warned off by the police with threats of dire consequences if any harm befell Ali and the magistrate in a late sitting had issued a restraining order forbidding them to approach within one hundred metres of the girl. A temporary bail of $10,000 had been set pending a full court hearing on the first sitting day on January the third. She reckoned all that would keep them in check. The police had done a good job.

I relayed the news to Ali, who declared that they deserved it. The bruise on her arm was still very visible.

At ten, we set off for New South Wales. There was some extra traffic but not enough to cause jams, just slowing things down a little. This time we did not go through Surfers but carried on down through Nerang and Tugun, rejoining the coast near the airport. We continued though Kirra and crossed the border at Coolangatta. The Medical Centre where Dr. Gower was based was in the Tweed Mall just a few hundred metres further on. It had its own car park and we found a space with no trouble. We arrived at about a quarter to twelve and were sitting in the reception area with five minutes to spare.

Dr. Gower was only five minutes late ushering us into her office, pretty good for your average GP. That’s why they call us ’patients’. She was of an age with Lisa my lawyer and they had attended the same university. After introductions she got down to business.

“Lisa told me about your problems,” she said to Ali. “Sometimes our laws are stupid. I can prescribe you blockers, no problem, but a couple of hundred metres away it’s illegal unless you’re eighteen. They’re not much use when puberty’s already been and gone. I’ll have to give you a quick once-over, so go behind that curtain and take off your top and be ready to drop your shorts.”

She looked at me. “It won’t take long.” And then she pulled the curtain across.

I could hear the instructions and responses and less than ten minutes passed before they both emerged, smiling.

“Well, Ali, you appear to be in good health so I’ll give you a six-month prescription. I took the precaution of ordering in the first dose after talking to Lisa because most pharmacies don’t keep it in stock, so I’ll give you your first injection now and then you only have to get one every three months. I see you’ll be seventeen in nine months so you’ll be legal in Queensland by the time you need a new script. Of course, you can always come back to me if you have to.”

She took a box from a shelf next to her desk and extracted a hypodermic from it, sterilized it and told Ali to roll up her top. Then she swabbed her and injected the drug into her midriff.

“Didn’t hurt, did it?” she asked, grinning.

“Only a little.” With a wince.

She played with her computer and handed me two scripts for the repeats and a pamphlet which I quickly perused. It detailed all the possible side-effects.

“Any problems, just go to your local GP, he or she will be able to take care of them. I’m putting you down as the guardian so you’d better get your situation sorted out as quickly as possible. Enrol Ali on Medicare (the basic government medical insurance) soon. She’ll qualify at sixteen but she’s probably registered on her parents’ card and I gather you don’t want that, so for now it’s on yours.”

It helps to know people who know helpful people. We said our goodbyes to a doctor who was one of those and I paid the bill at the clinic’s cashier desk.

We had a stroll round the mall seeing we were here. New South Wales allows liquor sales in supermarkets so I stocked up on chardonnay while I had the chance and bought four bottles of champagne to take with us to our Christmas lunch.

As we headed north again I asked Ali how she felt.

“It’s been so dope since I met you. I know we’ve had problems but every one has been dealt with. And now I’m never going to have to worry about being a boy again. Super.”

“As far as I ever saw, my love, you never had to worry about being a boy, but now you will never have to.”

Her smile was worth a thousand words.

Only four more days to Christmas. Everything was organized so why was I nervous?