Jack's first martial arts class as Becca becomes a personal duel with a teacher who thinks death is the ultimate failing grade. Then she meets her new dance instructor, receives her first lesson in how the Universe works (and how she's supposed to work with it), and discovers how satisfying it can be to get ... physical with some boys.

by Randalynn

---

 
 

"I never teach my pupils; I only attempt to provide
the conditions in which they can learn." -- Albert Einstein
 
 

I fell back without thinking, letting the ball of green fire pass over me. It flew neatly though the spot where my head had been. Using the momentum of the fall, I did a backward roll and wound up on my feet, facing the strange woman in green. She seemed disappointed.

"A physical defense, Advocate? Duck and cover?" She scowled, hands on her hips. "Where is all that power I've heard so much about?"

"I don't bring it on for the small stuff," I bluffed briskly, my body falling back into a ready stance. "Besides, you DID say the game was Dodgeball."

"Yes, I did," she admitted. The fireball she had thrown had turned around and returned to her hand. "But how am I to train you if you don't ... bring it on when I attack?" The ball grew larger and became two, both hovering over her extended palms. With a single gesture, they flew away from her to swoop in and try to hit me simultaneously.

"Train me?" This time I waited until the last second before dropping straight down to the floor. The two fireballs collided above me in a flash of energy that made the air around me shimmer. I bounced back to my feet, nerves singing with adrenaline I didn’t need. "This is training?"

"Haven't you ever heard the expression, 'what does not kill you makes you stronger?'" The woman summoned three green fireballs and set them spinning directly above her head. "It's like that."

"Ah." I nodded, eyes intent on the orbiting spheres. "The problem is, how many of your students die before they learn something? If you use that cliché for a lesson plan, you'll wind up with a very small graduating class ... and a lot of bodies to answer for."

"Since I only have one student, the body count will be minimal." She smiled, and the fireballs spun faster. "And if you die in training? Well, I didn't really want this job anyway."

All three orbs shot straight at me. No finesse, no curves -- just straight at my chest, at high speed. My brain went into overdrive, trying to find a way out.

And failed. Damn, I thought. It was shaping up to be a nice life, too.

Just as all three fireballs were about to hit, a section of my mind seemed to come to life. It pulsed once, almost like flexing a muscle, then threw out a flash of energy that absorbed the three orbs and bounced back towards my 'teacher.' The wave hit as she closed her eyes, and it seemed to wrap around her and fade into a harmless light show by the time it reached the wall.

"At last, some measure of skill," she crowed. "Defense and offense from a single spell. A measured response, as well. Just enough energy to take my attack and make it your own."

Weirdly enough, that was exactly what I would have wanted to do, if I had known how. Strategic and tactical doctrine from Sun-Tzu to von Clausewitz was kicking around inside my head like an academic soccer match. Directed attacks deserve directed defense. No sense shielding everywhere when the attack was to my chest. Unfamiliar knowledge flowed through my brain, and suddenly I knew how far from the wall she was, what spell she was using to attack, and a rough approximation of her energy level (based on what my mind insisted was the 'taste' of the fireballs).

“And you’ve adapted well to your new form,” she sniffed, raising her arms and spreading her fingers wide. Power arced between them. “Although why anyone would want to be ... a girl ... is totally beyond me. You had so much power as a man. Handsome, too. Now you’re just ... weak.”

“But you’re a —“ Her eyes flashed with anger and a very sharp blade thrust upward through the supposedly solid wood floor below me. I found my attention oddly split between watching the woman in green and keeping track of the blade headed straight for parts of me I had grown rather fond of since I woke up that morning. Everything seems to slow to a crawl, and before I could realize the sheer idiocy involved in attempting to declare gravity irrelevant, I found myself upside down on the ceiling. I was suspended above a three-foot-long piece of curved sharpened steel, my ponytail hanging down behind my head. The woman in green looked up and laughed.

“Oh, that is truly magnificent,” she crowed. “Such imagination! We are going to have so much fun, you and I. Until I kill you.”

“Now wait just a minute.” I felt my anger flaring just beneath the surface. “Am I your student or your prey?”

“Both,” she replied. “And neither. Life defines words. Seldom is the reverse true.”

I summoned up a bolt of energy and threw it at the base of the blade. It broke free from its base and rose into the air. I used a second spell to start it spinning end over end, faster and faster. I could hear it singing as it cleaved the air, and as I sent it toward her with a wave, I sincerely hoped it would cut this fight short.

Literally.

Her eyes widened, and she barely managed to turn the sword into mist before it touched her flesh. It did however manage to cut the belt of her dobok. It fell open, revealing a well-shaped bosom wrapped in a sheer black bra with a lot of lace trim. Her skin was pale, almost milky white and pure. Her eyes widened as she realized she was exposed, and I could see the panic in them clear across the room. For the first time since this bizarre episode started, she was off-balance. Time to push her a little further, I thought. Maybe she’ll fall.

So I reached out mentally and made her pants non-existent.

Her bottom half was every bit as lovely as her top, with the front of a matching black thong framed between full white thighs connected to round hips that made her tiny waist seem so much smaller.

Feeling suddenly cooler, the woman looked down and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeal. I dropped down from the ceiling, spinning as I fell until I landed in a ready stance. When she heard me land, her head snapped up. I could see anger had replaced the fear in her eyes.

“Stupid bitch!” she growled. “So childish!”

“It put you off your game, didn’t it?” I snapped back, and my hands glowed with a cool fire. “Being exposed makes you nervous. But if you really WANT something childish to wear ...”

The fire shot out and covered her completely from head to toe, then flared and disappeared. She was wearing a giant version of a little girl’s pink party dress, and her hair was a mass of ribbons and pigtails. She looked down and tried to scream, but her mouth was filled with a large lollipop, so all that came out was a gurgle. It was my turn to laugh.

“Don't like the dress?” I grinned at her, and she shook with anger. "Since you don't seem to like being a woman, I thought you should go back a bit and try being a little girl for a while."

She pulled the lollipop out and threw it aside with a growl, then tried to place her feet in a ready stance of her own. Unfortunately, the bottoms of her shiny black Mary Janes were brand new and still slippery. She fell back and landed hard on her well-padded bottom. When she suddenly realized she was wearing a thick cloth diaper, she roared and shot several bolts of energy at me from the floor.

Without thinking, I spun to one side. Both of her spells hit the mirror behind me and flashed back at her. I watched her own magic slam into her, making her new outfit disappear completely and leaving her quite naked. But before she could react, the second spell hit and she vanished.

I was alone.

“Where the hell did she go?” I asked the empty room. A voice came from behind me.

“Right now, she is exactly where she had planned for you to appear.”

I turned. My own reflection was leaning against a wall INSIDE the mirror, smiling.

“And where would that be, precisely?”

“The food court at MacPherson Center, on the other side of town. A very popular after-school spot for teens, if I am correct. A ... shopping mall?”

“Completely naked?”

“Completely.”

“And you are ...?”

“The Arbiters, Becca.” My reflection laughed and smiled at me. I had a nice smile, I decided. “We need some level of manifestation to speak with you. This was all we had available to us. We hope you don’t mind?”

“As long as nobody puts me away for talking to myself, I’m fine,” I replied. “Should I be ready for ‘teacher’s’ return?”

“Not right away.” The mirror Becca sauntered over to the other side of the glass and sat down. “Part of the last spell she shot at you was a magic nullifier, so you would be forced to remain naked in the food court for a time without magic to hide you or teleport away.”

“So now she’s stuck there herself.” I shook my head. “And judging by her reaction when I saw her in her underwear, she’s probably curled up in a ball trying not to cry. If she hadn’t been psychotically obsessed with killing me, I’d feel sorry for her.”

“Our apologies for not warning you about the nature of the training,” the mirror Becca said softly. “It would have defeated the purpose.”

“So this was authorized?” I stared at myself, stunned.

“Not to the extent she planned to take it, but yes.”

“Why?”

The other me rose to her feet and began to pace. “You need to understand, as we told you before, that the abilities and knowledge we gave you have to be brought out by experience and training. Once you have these skills, they’re yours. But they need to be summoned from the recesses of your mind by need. That’s where Leander’s ... teaching style ... comes in.”

“Oh, come on! She could have killed me!”

“Did you die?” My other self smirked at me through the glass.

“Well, no.”

“We did not send you into this room unprepared, Becca. You were never unarmed. You just didn’t know what your weapons were, until you needed them.”

“Hmmph.” I folded my arms under my breasts and turned away. “And what about this Leander person? Who is she and where did she get all that power?”

“He was once a powerful mage, who abused his power so abominably that the Universe exacted what was to him a terrible price.”

“He? You mean --“

“Yes, Leander was once a man. He used his powers to degrade and humiliate women, take them at his pleasure and crush them with his will. As punishment, he became a she.”

Not much of a punishment, I thought. From my point of view.

“To you, becoming a woman would be a reward,” the Arbiter answered, reading my mind even as she pushed my ponytail back over her shoulder. “To her, it is a reminder that she is ... less than what she was. And the rest of her punishment ensures that it will always be so, for all of eternity.”

I stared at myself, totally confused. “Excuse me?”

The Arbiter sighed. “She has been punished like this for four hundred seventy six years, through seven lifetimes. Since the Universe changed her, she has spent every lifetime as the subservient helpmate of a large, domineering, boorish, and insensitive man. He takes everything she gives and demands more, and externally she is more than happy to comply. To call her a doormat would imply he lets her lie still long enough to wipe his feet on her. While she is in his presence, she cannot say no to him. If he tells her to do something and leaves, she cannot rest unless that thing is done. No matter what sexual act he commands her to perform with him, she is always enthusiastic and eager to please. Always. And no matter how often she has intercourse, she never gets pregnant.”

“Why?”

“It wouldn’t be fair to the children. She would not love them, and they would know it.”

I thought about it for a while. "Being a woman doesn't make her less."

"No. But she thinks it does. And being a subservient woman without access to magic even more so. On many levels."

"So you brought her out of forced retirement after almost five hundred years, gave her back access to powerful magic, and said, 'We have a new associate who will go after people like you, and we need you to train her.'"

The other me smiled. "Something like that."

"Knowing she would cross the line and try to kill me."

"Expecting it, yes. So your true powers would emerge in the crucible of fire. As they had to." The Arbiter put her hand up against the glass on the other side. "You were never alone with her, really. We were watching. But we were sure you would rise to the challenge, and you did. As you will again."

"Again?"

"Oh, yes. This was only your first lesson with her. And now that you've publicly embarrassed her with her own spells, she will be even more determined to make you suffer. But every attack, successfully countered, will make you stronger. Eventually, there will be nothing she can do to hurt you."

"What about my family and friends?"

The Arbiter smiled my smile at me again. "Fully protected. Her magic has only two focal points -- herself, and you. The only person in the Universe she can do anything to is you. And since you're an extension of us in her mind, she will be more than happy to vent her frustrations with us on you as well, even as you create more reasons for her to want to kill you for your own sake."

"Lovely." I looked around the empty room. "What now?"

"Now it's time for the other half of your lessons for today," my reflection said. "Mrs. Graymalkin is waiting."

"My dance teacher?"

"Oh, yes," the Arbiter replied. "She's your instructor in strategy and tactics."

"What about the Tae-Kwon-Do class I was supposed to take before Professor Psychopath interrupted?"

"As far as your Sensei is concerned, you were there and excelled the whole time." She glanced at the clock on the wall on my side of the mirror. "As a small apology, let me help you to your next class." The Arbiter's eyes flared, and suddenly my dobok was replaced with a skintight black leotard, shiny lavender tights, and black soft-souled dance shoes. My belt became a lavender scarf tied around my middle, and I was ...

... somewhere else. A long room with mirrors down one wall and a ballet bar along the other. Big windows on a third wall let in natural light, and I could see people walking past on a sidewalk outside. Next to the windows, the reversed writing on the door proudly proclaimed "Graymalkin's Dance."

"Greetings, child," a voice behind me said sharply. "You're early. I do so admire enthusiasm in one so young."

I spun around to see a older woman, dressed in a leotard and tights. "Are you --?"

She tutted at me. "Manners, Miss Barnes. The correct response to a compliment is, 'thank you, Mrs. Graymalkin.'"

My lip twitched, and I threw my shoulders back and centered my weight over my hips. "Thank you, Mrs, Graymalkin," I said, and threw in a perfect curtsey, completed with a head bob. She threw me a stern look, mitigated by the twitching of her own lips in an almost smile.

"Sass will not be tolerated, Becca."

"Yes, Ma'am." I stood at attention. "Apologies, Ma'am."

"Already forgiven." She gave me a full smile. "With your history and your intelligence, I should expect at least some whimsy, with a modicum of wit. But I do have much to teach, and I would hope you will not allow your need for ... personal expression ... to get between the lessons and the student."

I nodded. "Never, Ma'am. These lessons are very important to me."

"Especially now that Leander has awakened your power, and is so intent on killing you before you can use it effectively." My eyes flashed, astonished. She tutted again. "Really, child. How good a teacher could I be if I did not keep up with current events?"

I couldn't help it. I just laughed. Mrs. Graymalkin smiled at me again, and I could see the laugh lines around her eyes.

She was my height, but darker. Her tousled brown hair was streaked with gray, and cut short until it formed an almost-halo around her head. Her body was that of a dancer, fit but not overly muscular. Her deep brown eyes always seemed to hold a twinkle -- something I would continue to see as our lessons progressed, no matter how serious they became.

"There are two sides to being the Advocate, Becca," Mrs. Graymalkin began. "One side is the power, and learning how to use it for maximum effect. Sadly, it means that for a time you will be stalked by a tremendously powerful psychotic sorceress. But it can't be helped. Once Leander has taken you to a certain level, her services as a ... sparring partner ... will no longer be needed or tolerated."

"But the other side is learning when and where to use your power, what to use it for, how much of it to use, and to what end. That is why you come to me. Well, that ... and to dance."

I fidgeted slightly. "Ma'am?"

"Yes, Becca?"

"Can I ... dance?"

"Oh, most certainly," she said, somewhat surprised. "You are quite good, actually. The skill has been honed for almost a year, in terms of the young girl's history you now possess. Would you like to see?"

My heart took a little leap. I had always wanted to dance, but as a man I always felt ... awkward. It may not have been true, but just thinking that way made me clumsy and ill at ease. I tried once, but the phrase "dancing bear" popped into my head the first time I saw myself trying to move in a studio. My teacher at the time said I was wrong and I moved very well, but all I could see was Gentle Ben under a circus tent. I dropped out soon after, but the dream was always there.

"Yes, please," I replied.

"Very well," Mrs. Graymalkin said. "But before you dance, you must warm up and stretch completely. And while you do that, I will talk. On the mat, please."

My body slipped gracefully to the floor, and I found myself moving into an extensive warm up regime that came as naturally to me as brushing my hair did this morning. It was almost as if my body knew what to do, and my mind followed along until neither one knew which was doing the thinking. Once again I wondered at Becca's history before all of this. Where did it come from?

As I worked my body, she descended to the floor beside me and began to stretch. I looked at her, a question in my eyes.

"Why are you surprised, child?" She reached for her foot and stretched her entire torso, looking at me the entire time. Then she smiled. "Oh, yes, that's right. You haven't been ... one of us for so very long. When you get ... older, you will find that your joints and muscles are not as responsive as they used to be. And when it comes to pleasing a lover, it is better to be more ... flexible. When you have as many years as I do in this body, it becomes even more important. So I may not dance right now, with you, but tonight ..." Her smile became slightly wistful. "Tonight is a different matter... a different partner ... and a very different dance."

I blushed, and she tutted at me again. "Come, come, Becca. Between women, together without men present, such talk is a confidence, a sharing. A bonding. I have a man who pleases me very much, and I would like to think I make him happy, too. It takes a little extra effort on my part these days, but for the right man, a woman ... prepares."

She smiled at me, then twisted her body and stretched using the other foot. " I may be your teacher, but I would also like to be your friend. Since you are so new to being a woman, there may be things you need to ask that you cannot ask your mother, for obvious reasons. I would like to be here for you to ask, as a teacher in being a woman as well." She looked at me with a question in her eyes. "If you would have me, that is."

I nodded, and felt tears come to my eyes. After Leander's "lesson," this was a welcome change. She saw the tears and smiled, then reached out with a finger and brushed them away. "No need for tears, child. Even tears of joy, which I see these are. I just offer friendship, after all. Woman to woman." She traced my jawline with her finger. "And you are already becoming a beautiful woman, after only a day." She looked me in the eye and cocked her head. "You already have a man, don’t you?" My jaw dropped. "Well, a boy, given your age."

She shook her head. "Again, surprised? As I said before, Becca ... current events, yes? Or maybe I should say current affairs." She grinned, which made her look years younger. "And keep working, please."

She did a backward roll and put her legs together, pushing them out in front of her and stretching her back muscles. Mrs. Graymalkin did all this without a hint of strain, and she even continued talking through the stretch -- while I, in my younger body, found it hard to even breathe.

"So, you have a beau, Becca," she said easily. "I am not surprised, a pretty girl like you. How does he make you feel?"

I blushed, and looked down before answering. "Like ... like nothing I've ever felt before, even ... with my wife. It's ... overwhelming, Ma'am. I know what love feels like. I've felt it before. But now I love Tommy so much, it hurts ... and I burn for him, too. I've only been in this body for half a day, and I can't stop thinking about him. Thinking about what I want to do with him. What ... what I want him to do to me. It's ... scary."

For a while, the older woman was quiet. Then she reached out a hand from her stretching position and patted my shoulder.

"Before, you loved as a man," she said softly. "No less strong, perhaps, but not quite as ... powerful. A woman feels much deeper, I think. Our barriers are lower ... our commitments more intense. It is good for you to feel that heat -- the fire that comes from being wanted, and wanting. You will feel it all your life. But you must learn to control it. Because it is so strong, your passion can overcome your reason, Becca. And as strong as that passion is, it isn't enough to carry you through motherhood so young," she said, eyeing me. I shook my head.

"I don't want that, Ma'am," I spoke quickly. "At least, not yet. Someday, with the right man. But for all the years that came before, I'm still very much a child ... like this."

"But not for much longer, I think. You burn with a woman's fire, and it is almost time for you to become one. I can see it in your body, your time is near. That may be part of your trouble, as well. Your body wants him, and your heart does, too." She rolled into a sitting position and folded her legs beneath her. "There are things you can do to make the fire more ... manageable, Becca. But that's for another lesson, I think. We really should get back to work."

I nodded, slightly embarrassed to think about where that lesson would take us — the "things" we would be talking about.

"So," she continued, "let's discuss when to use your power and when to leave things be. It's a difficult skill to master, because every situation is different. The Arbiters believe you are both smart enough and 'grounded' enough to master it, and given what I know of you, I would tend to agree. Still, just as your powers grow stronger with use, so will this skill becomes sharper. It is complicated, of course, by the needs of the Omnipresence."

"What ... do ... you mean ... Ma'am?" I huffed, bending my new form in ways that would probably make Tommy VERY interested in taking off this leotard.

"Come now, Becca," she said, smiling again. "Things happen for a reason. Most of the time, that reason is the Omnipresence. It has a plan so vast, it's impossible for us to see it, let alone understand it. It's like standing on a raft in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and trying to see it all, from Japan to California, from the Bering Strait to Antarctica. And even if you were to fly into space and look down, all you could see was the surface, not the depths beneath. With your limited senses, seeing it all would be impossible."

I rolled over onto my stomach, spread my legs by pulling my knees up on either side of my body, and pressed my torso into the mat.

"The Universe is a nearly infinite tapestry, child. Every life intersects with every other, and the Omnipresence manages the weaving of those threads so they become stronger, learning and growing. Often, they grow by being tested in ways that might seem cruel to those of us who cannot see the tapestry -- just the small section where our own threads reside."

"So ... if I cannot ... see the plan, Ma'am ..." I mused, pressing up with both arms and listening to joints crack. I felt parts of me stretch I'd never felt before. "How can I choose when to act and when to let events take their course?"

"Even though you cannot see the plan, your sense of what is right and wrong connects you to it. Part of what the Arbiters saw in you was evident in the decision you made not to agree to the Other's offer, once you knew it would hurt your family. That quality of knowing the right action and listening to that part of you over anything else is very rare. We will focus on strengthening that connection as part of your training, so it will guide you where rational thought does not. Part of being the Advocate is listening to the part of you that feels how the tapestry is woven, and taking steps to make the Omnipresence's plan work better."

She rose to her feet and walked over to a small stereo in the corner, continuing to speak as she picked up and discarded CDs from a stack beside it. "Even though many see right and wrong clearly, there are those who use their free will to do what they think is right when it is not, or do what they know is wrong simply because they can. Those are the ones you must stop. You must undo their efforts to tangle the tapestry, and make things right. Like almost everything truly difficult in life, you'll have to feel your way through it."

"Up, Becca," she said, without turning around. "Warm your muscles before you dance."

I rose to my feet and began an abbreviated aerobic workout, feeling my body flexing and stretching, the sweat rising, lubricating muscles and tendons. The heat warmed me throughout.

Mrs. Graymalkin watched me from across the room.

"Look at how you learned to raise a child," she said. "Before your first child, you knew nothing about what it meant to be totally responsible for another human being. But you rose to the challenge by feeling your way through it. You made judgment calls based almost entirely on intuition. And both of your children -- all of them, including Becca -- came out just fine."

"How could I ... have raised Becca, Ma'am?" I puffed, breasts bouncing just a little, hips rolling. "I AM Becca."

"That takes more explaining than we have time for today, child. Especially if you want to dance." She smiled at me. "And you are ready to dance, now."

She held up a CD case. I recognized it. It was the Talking Heads Naked album. "Last month you worked up a routine based on a song from this disk." I opened my mouth, and she put her other hand up. "Don't ask now, girl. I told you it's complicated. Just trust me. It's all inside you, just waiting to come out. Take your position, please."

I moved to the center of the room, legs and feet together, hands at my side, head bowed. I heard Mrs. Graymalkin place the disk in the player, and my whole body trembled with anticipation.

Then the song "Big Daddy" came on, full of horns and bass and bouncy guitar, and David Byrne's cryptic lyrics ...

"She has such tiny tears
Just like a barbie doll
She likes to shop at Sears
And visit shopping malls ..."

Suddenly I felt the music moving through me, and I moved with it -- hips swaying, arms out, fingers spread wide, head back, eyes shut, and a grin just beginning to make my lips twitch at the ends. My new responsibilities and Leander's vendetta just slipped away, and I found myself dancing across the room, spinning, arms over my head, hips swaying and a little bit of a laugh coming up from deep inside.

I felt alive, deep inside the music, letting my new body guide me. Mrs. Graymalkin watched, a smile on her face, as I hit every mark without a thought, floating like a leaf on the wind with the precision of an arrow on its way to a bullseye. Laughing like a child, I pulled the scrunchy out of my ponytail and let my hair fly wild around my head. The music didn't let me down or let me go, and I found myself slipping into an impromptu belly dance, hips rolling, hands above my head. It wasn't part of the routine. It just felt right -- a celebration of becoming the woman I always knew I should have been.

The girl I had become.

My whole body wiggled and bounced through a full head-to-toe shimmy shake, ending with a spin as I slipped soundlessly to the floor, heart pounding and adrenaline flowing. As the song ended, tears slipped down my cheeks and I found myself sobbing and smiling at the same time.

I'm home, I thought to myself, crying happily. Oh, thank God, I'm home.

###

An hour later, I was home ... almost. After working on a few more routines with Mrs. Graymalkin, I had changed back to street clothes and taken the bus back to my neighborhood. She had offered to transport me using magic, as the Arbiters had done, but I didn't want to set a precedent of using magic whenever it was convenient. She gave me a nod of approval when I explained, and a warm hug as I left her studio.

"Be careful, Becca," she said as the door closed. "A girl alone can be a target. I know you can take care of yourself, but you're not invulnerable. Get home before dark."

Walking down my street, I felt the chill of the early evening seeping through the impractical outfit I wore this morning. I'd left the comfy sweater in my locker. I was thinking about today's lessons, and wondering what the heck I had actually learned, when I heard a girl's voice, pleading.

"Leave me alone!" I looked up to see a small brown-haired girl scurrying down a cross street, being harassed by four older boys. I recognized the boys as some of Hunter's buddies, and I sighed. What kind of people is he bringing into this neighborhood? I thought sourly.

The girl wore a black scoop-neck tee, a short denim skirt with lace trim, and sandals with platform heels that made it very hard for her to walk. She must be as cold as I am, I realized. She was pretty in an anime-like way, with huge green eyes and small full lips. She wore her hair loose in tumbling curls down to her shoulders, although she kept tossing her head back like it was getting in her way. Fear made her clutch her purse tightly to her chest, and she hunched her shoulders as if she wanted to hide the curve of her breasts.

If I were being chased by those four, I'd want to hide my breasts, too. I had stopped moving and watched from the shadows, trying to decide whether this was teasing or something more. There was something about her ... I didn't think I knew her, and yet ...

The lead boy reached down and snatched at the lace on the bottom of her skirt. He laughed when she squeaked and pushed his hand away. "Stop!" she said plaintively.

"Come on," he said, reaching for her again. "You said we were friends. Why can't I see what color panties you're wearing?" All of the other boys laughed, and suddenly anger boiled up inside of me.

"Because ... because they're mine," she whimpered, and he reached out again. She slapped his hand away. "Get AWAY!" she shouted.

The leader's eyes narrowed, and he shoved her backward, right into the arms of two of his buddies. They held her tight, and he moved forward. She struggled, but couldn't break free.

"Now, baby ... you know it's important to share," he purred, as his fingers gripped the edge of her skirt. "Let's see ..."

"Excuse me," I said, directly behind him. He froze, and turned slowly. His eyes traveled from my feet clear up to my chest, where they stayed for a few seconds longer than necessary before wandering up to my face.

"Well, well," he said. "Fresh meat."

I smiled at him, and he paused, confused.

"Since you seem so intent on seeing her panties, I thought I'd give you an opportunity to see mine first."

The others laughed, and the leader gave me a small, confused smile. It lasted all of two-tenths of a second, until my foot buried itself deep in his stomach, and my knee collided with his forehead on its way down to the street. As he lay there, eyes glazed, I stood over him and smiled again.

"Like the view?" I asked sweetly. "I knew you'd get a better look from down there."

One of the others ran at me from behind, but I could sense him coming. Before he took two steps, my fist collided with the bridge of his nose and my elbow with the nerve cluster just under his ribs. He staggered back and fell on his ass, an instant before his head hit the pavement. The other two let go of the brown-haired girl and just stood there. She collapsed to the ground in a heap, shaking and crying.

I smiled at the two still standing. It was neither pleasant nor pretty, and both of them turned pale.

"This is my neighborhood," I said softly. "And you're not welcome in it. So leave my friend alone and go. Take these two with you. If you come here again, I'll make sure you never leave. And they'll never find your bodies. Understand?"

They started nodding enthusiastically and backed away, picking up their buddies and half-carrying them back the way they had come.

The one I had hit first looked back over his shoulder and couldn't resist a parting shot.

"Don't worry, Heather baby," he shouted. "We'll meet again -- and without your 'girlfriend' to get in the way."

She didn't react, except to cry harder. I stood over her and looked back at him.

"Touch her and die," I said, catching his eye and holding it. He froze for a second, then made kissy noises at me while his buddies dragged him away. When they were gone, I crouched down next to her.

"Hey," I whispered, touching her shoulder. "Heather? It's okay. They're gone now."

"Not okay," she sobbed into her hands. "It's crazy. How did I get like this? Where did these clothes come from? They're my friends, and THEY DIDN'T EVEN KNOW ME!"

I put my arms around her, and she stiffened. I gave her a hug and patted her on the back, but she pushed me away, still crying.

"I bet you think this is funny, Barnes," she whimpered, scrambling away from me while trying to pull down her skirt and cover her chest. "Or don’t you know me either?"

I felt a chill run down my back. Oh, God, no, I thought. It can't be.

"Hunter?" I said softly. "Is that you?"

Her head snapped up. "You KNOW me?"

I nodded, still unbelieving myself. Her eyes got wide, and suddenly the tears started again.

"You KNOW me!" she blubbered happily, and launched herself at me from the ground, hugging me tight. I hugged her back, just holding her while she cried, and thought deep thoughts about the infinite perversity of the Universe.

Who would have thought that, less than twelve hours after he tried to look up my skirt, I'd be comforting Hunter while she wore one herself?

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

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To Be Continued...