This could be a treat or a trick. Your choice there. I'm glad I got it done on the day it was meant for. There was some doubt about that given how RL has been with me lately. *grin* But here it is, my offering for Halloween and for the very first time, posted on the actual day!

I hope you all enjoy it.

Maggie

“Hey guys!” Randy walked back inside and announced. “It's a 'Dark and Stormy Night!”

Joe, Ryan, and I all gave Randy one of those 'Huh?' looks then exchanged halfway disgusted, halfway amused looks with each other. Which of course went right over Randy's head.

“Well, I'll give you the point about where it's dark.” Joe nodded then added. “It is nighttime right now. But Stormy?”

“It's raining.” Randy answered and made sure we all saw the spots of water on his jacket.

“Half a point on that one.” Dan shrugged. “Rain isn't exactly a storm.”

“But the wind's blowing and everything!” Randy countered.

Taking a look outside, where the lights from the cabin windows could show things, I noted that the foliage was moving a bit in the moving air outside. “That's a breeze, Randy.”

“If air's moving, it's wind.” Randy countered with his Georgia accent drawing out the last word.

“Not around here.” Joe shrugged but nodded. “Okay so it's dark, it's raining — sort of, and air is moving. But a storm has to have lightning and thunder, too.”

As if to show Joe things were just as Randy had announced, a flash of lightning lit the surrounding area brightly enough to highlight everything withing a hundred yards of the cabin we were currently staying in. Which, predictably, was followed with a very loud boom of thunder. Then as if to add an exclamation point to things, the wind really did start blowing hard enough to rattle the windows.

“See?!” Randy grinned triumphantly.

The guy may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, if you know what I mean, but his weather sense is uncanny. Following more than one incidence of his predictions coming to pass you'd think the rest of us would just accept what he said. Like the time he predicted that blizzard several days before it hit, or the time... Well you get the idea.

Randy might not be all that bright, but he was like a weather vane/barometer/ satellite overview when it came to weather.

“Oh, maaan,” Ryan moaned while watching the storm, “this is going to wash out that joke of a road for sure.”

“Good thing we brought plenty of food and stuff, isn't it?” Randy let out a laugh that was just a bit too gleeful. “We aren't going starve, or run out of beer for awhile.”

“Great.” Dan sighed as he put his high end cell phone back into his pocket with a grimace. “Service is out.”

“Phone lines must be down, too.” Ryan added as he set the receiver for the land line phone back into its cradle. “I can't even get a dial tone on this thing.”

“No cable either.” Joe disgustedly tossed the television remote back on the coffee table.

“I don't think you'll die without your daily dosage of porn.” I teased him. “You've probably got enough images in your head to keep you occupied for hours on end.”

“Hey!” Randy looked at us all with anticipation in his cornflower blue eyes. “You guys think she'll show up?”

She was the reputed ghost of a new bride who had died on this spot over a hundred years ago. The story was that Constance Morgan was still searching for the consummation she had missed for her marriage because she had died in a storm much like this.

And Constance was rumored to appear in the luxury cabin that stood where the far more basic one she had been taken to after her wedding when the weather was like this. Especially at this time of year.

“I'd try to help her out.” Joe raised his eyebrows. “Ghost or not, she's a stone cold fox. Even in those old fashioned clothes.”

Ryan nodded in agreement, Randy just shrugged, and I shook my head in what I hoped appeared to be friendly disgust. “You guys don't think with your big heads way too often, you know that?”

“Like you don't Mike?” Ryan leered at me. “At times your such a girl about stuff, but I saw how you were looking at Janice Weston last week. So give it up, you're just as horny as we are, dude.”

I decided the better part and all that at the moment was just shrugging. “But Janice is a warm bodied, flesh and blood girl. You guys are talking about a ghost here.”

“But just LOOK at her!” Joe pointed to the portrait above the fireplace.

The people who had gotten rid of the ruined, and old cabin to replace it with the one we were currently in had used things from the old cabin. Including a rather striking portrait of a young woman who was said to be Constance Morgan.

Constance Morgan had been more than just a fox. She had been beautiful in ways that other women envied and hated.

Even in the high necked, long sleeved, full skirted dress she was wearing in the portrait, anyone could see that she was petite, and very blessed in her form. It didn't take much to note the lushness of her figure at all, even obscured as was by the clothing.

And her face. Dear lord that face would have any male enthralled just from seeing it it passing.

Heart shaped, high cheekbones, a nose that wasn't tiny, but small enough to fit the rest of her face. With those almost huge violet eyes watching you from the portrait. Small, firm chin, delicate sweep of her jaw, full mouth that promised delights that were really frowned on when she was alive, and a complexion that made her look like a porcelain doll come to life.

All framed in a midnight hued mass of hair that was beautiful enough to make a guy fantasize about running his fingers through it even if it was up in the severe style of her times and she was only a painting.

True, the portrait could have been idealized, but I didn't think so. Neither did the other guys, or anyone else who had seen it. There was just something about that painting that demanded attention, and vowed that it was accurate.

And the white dress she was wearing in that painting helped to accentuate her beauty, the sensuous promise of her appearance despite the supposed innocence white was supposed to denote in our society.

Yes, Constance Morgan had been a rare beauty. Who died young, on her honeymoon and before she had been able to lie with the man she had married. What a waste.

Just then the power joined the cell signals and cable plunging the place into darkness before the generator kicked in. I almost swore that I saw the image, that portrait smirk in a flash of lightning before the power returned.

And the worst part of that whole thing?

I was jealous of her. She had what I had dreamed of my whole life but hadn't shown anyone or even hinted at it. I hated that, with my six foot and inches, linebacker build. But going with the usual things transsexuals did would have still left me looking like a man pretending to be a woman.

I was too big, too hairy, too — male. Puberty hadn't been kind to me, though most people who knew me thought it had been. I had been 'blessed' with the manly build, the muscle, the chiseled face, that most guys wished they had. But for me it was a curse.

One I could do nothing about, so I just accepted it and went with what my appearance and society at large said I should do. Had I been smaller, thinner, with a more androgynous face, things would have probably been different. But I wasn't and they weren't. So I lived with it, and suppressed my long buried urges. Consequently, I came across as very masculine, though as had been commented on earlier, good friends knew that wasn't quite the truth. So I had buried those feelings, those needs so deeply, that they disappeared with an occasional hint in my behavior, but rarely. Until tonight.

“Mike.” a prod to my ribs from Ryan's elbow brought me back to reality. “You still in there, man?”

“Yeah.” I let out a sigh and nodded, poking him in the ribs in response. “Guess I just got caught up in fantasies from looking at that portrait.”

“Like you're the only one.” My long time friend chuckled and waved towards Joe and Randy. “Those two might just cream their pants right here. Weird, isn't it?”

“Well, she was gorgeous.” I admitted with a little laugh of my own. “Maybe we should jog them back to reality here before they have to change their pants.”

“Nah.” Ryan smirked. “Let's see if either one of them really does it. That would give us one up on them when we need them to kind of ignore what we're doing.”

I had to laugh at that one. “Okay. Let's just see if they come back on their own. You know the rep this place has with guys.”

“That's why we decided to spend the long weekend here, my man!” Ryan winked at me. “I mean we can all get the chicks, but think about it here! Getting off on a babe that's been dead for better than a hundred years? That will give us so much ammunition to use when they snark at us about going after real living babes. Right?”

“Probably.” I answered with a wistful glance at the portrait. “It isn't all that hard to imagine, you know.”

“Nope, it sure isn't.”

She was so happy. The man she loved had finally asked for her hand in marriage, and she, with her parent's blessing, had accepted.

She was still in her wedding dress when the storm blew up out of nowhere.

Her husband — her Husband — Johnathan had gone out to make sure the stock were all right, and the wind had gotten worse in the ten minutes he had been gone. In the wind driven rain she could see nothing of where he was or what was going on outside. So, frightened for her man, and for herself, she stepped out on the porch to find things worse without the shielding walls and glass of the cabin.

“Jonathan!” She screamed into the wind, only to have her words blown back into her face, so she left the safety of the porch and began fighting her way to the barn. Her beautiful wedding gown caught the wind like a sail, and she had to struggle just to maintain her footing.

She actually saw the heavy branch the maelstrom had ripped from one of the walnut trees she had thought to be so beautiful careening towards her in the wind before it hit her squarely in the chest, and screamed, “NO!!” Before the impact and loss of all senses.

For some reason, she could see the painting that her family had commissioned, of her in her wedding dress that was already proudly hung over the mantle, and felt herself moving to touch it.

As she entered that painting, Constance Morgan died.

At least her physical body did.

But she hadn't really died.

Her soul, her spirit watched from the painting as her husband grieved, then found someone else to be his bride. She didn't fault him for that, or hate his new wife. But the sense of loss she felt was a pain she couldn't endure. So she faded until only the rudimentary sense of what was happening around her haven, her prison, remained.

There would be a time, she knew without actually knowing, that she could live again, and seek a love like she had before.

At first, she balked at the idea of taking someone's life so completely that she would become them, changing them to look like her living self, and smothering who that person had been.

But in time, she lost that sensibility.

Yet every time she had tried, it failed, and in time, likely females had stopped coming to the cabin, or the ruin it had become in 120 years. But someone came and built a new cabin over the foundations of the old one. There was hope.

But still, it seemed that women were repelled by the place, though men seemed drawn to it.

So another option occurred to her.

But it would need the right male to work.

* * * *

“Mike?”

I shook myself and gave Ryan a distant look before shaking my head and grumbling. “Sorry, just had a really weird flash there. Imagination, probably.”

“About her?” Ryan asked with a lopsided grin and a raise of his eyebrows.

“Yeah.” I nodded but didn't elaborate.

“Well, you didn't come in your pants.” My friend shrugged. “But it sure looked intense there for a few seconds.”

“Just my overactive imagination, I suppose.” I said quietly then chuckled to cover my discomfort while looking at Joe and Randy. “Those two horn dogs still seem to be caught in it.”

“We should probably shake them out of it.” Ryan thoughtfully said.

I walked up to Randy and grabbed his shoulder to shake it and got the surprise of my life.

He grabbed me back and planted a really wet kiss on my own lips.

Joe did the same with Ryan, so I didn't feel so bad even if I was a little squicked out. I pulled away from Randy and hit him in the chest, harder than I'd prodded him before. “Randy! Man, stop that!”

“What?” He asked then realized what he'd just done and did a standing broad jump that would been a medal winner in competition. “I'm so sorry, Mike! I don't know what made me do that. Please don't tell anyone about this, please?”

“I won't if you won't.” I rubbed my sleeve against my lips but couldn't quite get rid of the almost giddy feeling I'd had for a brief moment when his lips touched mine. “What were you thinking, man?”

“I was seeing her.” He pointed at the painting while looking very embarrassed. “And she was asking me to kiss her. Sorry about that. Really.”

“Just don't let it happen again.”

“No problem, dude.” But he was still giving me some really strange looks.

Ryan and Joe seemed to be having the same kind of conversation.

* * * *

Not one, but TWO!

Constance licked her insubstantial lips in pleasure once the two 'couples' had broken away from each other.

Now this was going to be interesting, and fun. She'd never considered the idea of twins replacing her old self in the world of the living. And the two males she'd targeted were so ripe for the change.

True, she could only inhabit one of them, but the idea of reforming the very large, masculine guys into her image was too much to resist. She would chose which would be her vessel once things had progressed a bit more.

With that thought, she reached out and intensified the storm, making sure it would last long enough to enable her to achieve what she wanted so badly.

She would live again! And have a love just like the one she had lost so long ago.

“What the hell was that?!” Ryan spat and rubbed his shirtsleeve over his mouth. “Try that again and I'll do my best to hurt you dude!”

Joe was rubbing his own lips and looking just a bit sick as he responded. “No problem, man, I promise you it won't happen again!”

If they'd been girls, given the expressions on their faces, I'd have been hearing something along the lines of “Ewww! Gross!”

I shook off the urge to laugh, or scream since I really hadn't found it all that gross, and stepped in before the guys came to blows. “Okay, okay, calm down and let's find out what happened here.”

“The fag KISSED me!” Ryan almost shouted. “That's what happened!”

“Maybe.” I answered with a shake of my head. “But Randy told me he was seeing her and she was asking him to kiss her.”

I waved towards the portrait, and gave Joe a curious look.

“Me, too.” Joe nodded with a perplexed expression even if part of that was disgust. “Guys, she was in front of me, I could smell her, feel her heat even from a foot away. When she asked me to kiss her in that sexy voice I just couldn't say no.”

Ryan still wasn't happy at all, but he was listening and watching, as Randy nodded with an almost blissful expression on his face. “Yeah, me too, and she smelled really good, woman, light perfume, and — woman. Wanting me.”

“Yeah,” Joe nodded, “that is exactly what I was seeing, smelling, and feeling. Ryan, man, I'm sorry, but I wasn't kissing you. I was kissing her.”

“Yeah.” Randy nodded emphatically. “It was her, not Mike I was kissing.”

“You know,” I said with a sigh, “at this point, if we could do it, I'd say it's time to get out of here right now.”

“But the roads are flooded out and washed away, we don't have any connections to the outside world right now, and there is no way it would be safe to even try leaving in this storm.” Randy put in.

Randy may not be that bright, but he had a down to earth wisdom the rest of us often lacked, and he had stated every reason we couldn't leave.

“Good point.” I agreed, then shrugged while getting myself a beer out of the cooler. “Look at it this way, if any of us see her in front of us and inviting us to do things, at least we know what's going on now. So let's just settle in until the connections come back on, the road is usable, and ignore her as best we can.”

Pulling a beer out of the cooler, Randy nodded. “Works for me.”

Joe and Ryan hesitated, but got beers for themselves after a few seconds.

“Ghost's aren't real, right?” Joe questioned while reassuring himself.

“Nah.” Ryan agreed, then took another look at the portrait, which seemed to be wearing a smug, satisfied expression now when I looked at it. “No such thing, right?”

We all agreed, had a few more beers, then went to our rooms to get some sleep.

None of us showing the others just how truly shaken, and yes, scared we were.

But the really scary parts were waiting to happen.

“Ohh, you'll do, dear.”

“Do for what?” I asked nervously while looking around the area I seemed to be in. It was the interior of a cabin, but much more primitive than they one my friends and I were staying at. Candles and kerosene lamps were the only source of light and though the light was warm, it was pretty dim.

“To give me what I lost.” The voice answered almost patiently. “I'll just need to do a few things so that can happen.”

“What things?” I asked as I wildly looked around in an attempt to see the woman with the sultry voice who was speaking to me.

“Don't worry about that.” She soothed. “I'll take care of everything. You just go along for the ride and enjoy it.”

“Who are you?” I asked still not seeing anyone.

“Why I'm you, dear.” The voice answered with some amusement and the Constance Morgan from the portrait slowly formed in front of me. I wanted to run, to hide, but couldn't do anything but stand there as she reached out a hand and stroked my cheek with a little smile of anticipation. “Or should I say you will be me.”

Her touch had sent tingles down my spine that spread to the rest of my body and felt as if I'd foolishly stuck my fingers in an electrical outlet. “I can't be you.”

“Of course you can.” She smiled and ran her hands along my sides with a smile. “I just need to make a few little changes is all.”

“That's ridiculous.” I shot back while feeling and knowing just how stupid that protest was in a way that I couldn't quite figure out.

“See if you think so in the morning, dear avatar.” She smirked. “Who knows? You may even like it.”

She was so beautiful, but the hungry, needy expression on her face ruined that for me. For a woman like her, I would have been a man and not complained even to myself.

“Too late, dear.” She smirked. “You'll never be a man for anyone again.”

I sat up with a start and just barely held in the scream that had tried to get out when I did.

The room was dark, but the frequent lightning managed to show that no one was there besides me, and that I was unchanged.

Though I was experiencing some strange aches and pains throughout my body. Those I dismissed as something from the effort of getting all our stuff into the cabin, the hike we had taken in the mountains around the cabin and the weather.

Silly me.

So after a few minutes of checking every corner and cupboard in the room, and the closet with a flashlight, I let out a relieved sigh, laughed at myself for getting so worked up over a dream, and settled back into a restless sleep.

* * * *

My dreams weren't any better after that.

I kept getting images of gliding around in long dresses accompanied by the rustle of petticoats, and being courted by more than one man. Dances, groups of people I moved among that were wearing some really old fashioned clothes, a wedding — mine, and other things.

All of that as a girl.

To say I didn't sleep at all well would be like saying the stupidest thing imaginable at just the wrong time. It was out there, couldn't be taken back, and there was nothing you could do about it other than work on damage control.

Worse, my whole body ached, seemed to be going through contortions that included snaps, crackles and pops, and my own skin felt like silly putty being kneaded by a five year old.

Ouch.

Not a good night, to say the least.

But it got worse, lots worse, in the morning.

* * * *

Waking up was disorienting at best. It was either still storming, or another one had rolled in to replace the one from last night, but it was still very dark either way.

Then I wasn't in my own bed, but in a sleeping bag on a strongly built and rather feminine bed. All the decoration, carving, and curlicues weren't something that most guys I know would have gone for.

Added to that, my clothes weren't on the chair I had tossed them onto before crawling into my sleeping bag the night before. Not that there wasn't anything there, they just weren't the clothes I'd taken off before going to sleep.

What was there was very disturbing. A butter yellow dress with a delicate floral print, what had to be petticoats, and other things I couldn't or didn't want to recognize.

“Funny guys.” I grumbled while thinking it was bad joke the others had pulled on me. But my voice sounded — not right at all.

I frowned, shook my head — another mistake there, because a veritable flood of midnight black hair ran over my shoulders to cascade down — breasts. Female breasts. Firm, and looking huge, not to mention very out of place on my body.

I let out a strangled little 'Eeek!' which wasn't at all like the almost bellow of shock that should have come out of my mouth and pulled myself the rest of the way out of the sleeping bag and stood up.

Mistake number... I don't recall that number right now but it started with agreeing to spend a long weekend in this cabin. My balance was all wrong, and ended up planting my butt on the floor beside the bed.

Did I mention that butt had a LOT more padding than I was used to having? And the alien breasts on my chest bounced quite painfully when that happened while that mass of midnight hair floated above me, then settled around my shoulders, 'breasts', over my eyes and flooded down my back.

After that I did the only thing a sane person could.

I screamed.

Loudly.

The next sequence of events is still kind of fuzzy.

The other guys heard the scream, which they told me was actually pretty blood curdling, and charged into my room. Only to stop, trip over each other in the doorway, and stare at me for a few seconds that felt like eternity.

I caught fragments of what they were saying.

“Who are you?”

“Where's Mike?”

“Sucker managed to sneak a girl in here somehow.”

“Hey! She looks like the girl in the...”

“Painting, yeah.”

“Ghosts don't show up in the daytime, do they?”

“Like I would know?”

What have you done with Mike?!!”

“Yeah, and who are you?”

“You already asked her that.”

“She still hasn't told us!”

“We haven't given her a chance to tell us, dimwit.” That surprise, surprise was Randy.

“She's hysterical.”

“So she can't tell us until she calms down!”

“Right. Okay miss, take a deep breath and try to calm yourself down.”

“Yeah, all that screaming is getting kind of hard to deal with.”

Come to think of it, I had been doing that a lot since I started.

I struggled to stop it, finally managed with a few hiccups and closed my eyes for a second to at least try and center myself. “I'm Mike.”

“Yeah, right.” Ryan looked at me as if he thought I was trying to sell him this nice bridge in Brooklyn and shook his head. “If you're Mike I'm Angelina Jolie in disguise.”

“I AM.!” I hollered in response, then winced and toned that down as much as I could given the circumstances. Then I pointed at the window. “Look at the weather out there! Where could I — Mike, have gone? More to the point, just where, if I'm not Mike, could I have come from in that? I know none of us could have sneaked a girl in with all the space we were giving to beer and snack food!”

They all paused to think about that one. I thought I had them convinced, then Joe had to get cerebral all of a sudden. “You look like her. You know the hot babe in the painting. If you're a ghost you could have done something to Mike and then waited for us to find you.”

I looked like Constance? That was a shock, but I had to stay on top of this conversation or they'd never believe me. “I'm flesh and blood! Why would I do that if I could just, you know, drift through walls and stuff? I'm Mike!”

Or at least I had been.

Then a really terrible thought came to me.

I was sitting on the floor, legs splayed, in their direction by the way, and I was — umm — butt naked. That shouldn't have bothered me, but then again, I wasn't myself just then.

I felt blood rushing to my face, jumped up and covered my crotch, and chest — okay, breasts, with my hands and very carefully asked them. “Guys? Could you, maybe, please, go out in the hall so I can get dressed?

It dawned on them all that they had been staring at a naked girl in a very — umm — revealing position, and to their credit they all looked embarrassed and nodded. Without another word they left me alone and even closed the door behind them.

I wanted to die. I was sooo embarrassed. Then the thought that feelings like that weren't at all like I had been. These guys had all seen me naked before. But then again, that was before...

Before what? Whatever had happened to me last night, I guess. But now it was really clear that being nude in front of three guys was NOT a good idea.

“Gah!” I managed to get out as relief flooded through me.

“This is sooo weird.” I muttered while looking at the clothes laid out on the chair.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I said aloud as I looked at the dress, the underwear, and just couldn't get my head around wearing that stuff. “Girls don't dress that way these days.”

“Wear it for now, and we'll find you something different later.” That suddenly familiar, smokey, velvet voice I'd heard last night soothed me. “Or would you rather leave this room unclothed?”

“Oh, hell no.” I shot back without once considering I was talking to someone who wasn't really there. Then again, given the way I was when I woke up, you should cut me a little slack there.

The really freaky thing there? The voice in my head sounded a lot like the voice I spoke in, though I know a person's voice always sounds different to them than to others.

“It is your voice, darling.” I heard in my mind. “Men find it to be very, shall I say, sexy?”

“I didn't need to hear that, thank you.” I said with little tingles running up and down my spine with little tiny clawed feet that let me know exactly which part of my back they were running up or down.

Now that isn't a nice feeling.

“let me help you get dressed.” The head voice offered.

“Just get some clothes on me.” I answered, then grumbled. “Anything would be better than hanging out my all-together for those horndogs to see.”

“Then let us get it done.”

In the following minutes, I put on things I hadn't even had a name for earlier.

Petti pants.

Corset. Okay, I knew what a corset was, and the feeling of having it tightened by what seemed to be nothing was more than a little disconcerting. At least the unfamiliar things — breasts on my chest stopped bouncing every which way whenever I moved. So that I optimistically counted as a plus.

Stockings, with garters to hold them up. They were flesh colored, by the way.

Something that went over the corset, which was predictably called a corset cover. It was nice and silky, so the flesh it touched really liked the experience. Sigh.

Petticoats. Petticoats! Those make my already too womanly hips and bottom — in my own very distracted opinion — seem even bigger.

A pair of lace up boots with a small, but very real heel.

And then the dress.

Gah! I felt like an extra in Gone With the Wind.

Worse, I sat down in front of the mirror on the vanity that hadn't been there when I fell asleep, and brushed that wild looking mane of ebon hair into a semblance of civility.

By the time that was all done, I had a little trouble breathing, and not because of the corset.

I was gorgeous, and I did look exactly like that portrait over the fireplace.

Worra, worra, worra.

Why do these things always happen to me?

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as some people, idiots in my opinion, say. I wasn't naked any longer. And trust me, my first encounter with the guys had me naked rather than nude, I took a deep breath and moved towards the door.

“That can't be Mike.” I heard Ryan on the other side of the door.

“She acted like Mike before she noticed she was naked, there.” Joe pointed out.

“Guys, give her a break.” Randy answered. “Whether she was Mike or not, we charged in and got a really good look at what she has to offer some guy.”

“Lucky guy.” Joe answered.

“She's embarrassed, and if it really is Mike, he — she, is probably having a really tough time with things right now. So don't put any moves on her, or I'll make you regret it.” Randy answered.

Right then and there, I loved Randy. Maybe he wasn't the airhead everyone thought he was.

Oh, love, not what you think. Just that I wanted to hug — make that shake his hand — oh I don't know what I was thinking just then. But I appreciated his concern for me no matter who I was.

* * * *

I opened the door, and managed a shaky smile at the three guys in the hallway. “Hi. Now can we please start this conversation again, without all the leering. Please?”

“Sure, babe.” Joe nodded with a little grin.

“You got it, honey.” Ryan piled on the yuck factor.

“Yes, we can.” Randy told me with a very gentle touch to my shoulder that was gone as soon as it happened. “Let's go to the living room and you tell us what happened, okay?”

Have I said I was loving Randy? And not that I was close to him physically...

It was more than just, you know, in my head. Sheesh. Like I didn't have enough problems as it was.

The breasts that I didn't wish to admit to, tingled and my nipples made any erection I'd had as male pale in comparison, and the parts I'd lost at my crotch let me know they'd been replaced with something just as responsive.

Just not the way I was used to.

“You like this!” That voice in my head, okay, my voice, accused. “You like having a good man concerned about you!”

“What if I do?” I whispered.

“You are supposed to suffer!” The voice, That I had decided had to be Constance sounded angry.

“This is my dream come true.” I whispered. “I'm a real woman, and I'm beautiful. And yes, I know I look like you did in life. So you got someone to replace you in life, can't you be happy with that?”

“I want you to suffer like I have!”

“Sorry, but that won't happen.” I sub-vocalized. “You gave me my fondest, and least attainable dream. Share that with me, and you'll see.”

“NO! I wish my avatar to suffer as I did! Unfulfilled, without purpose, lost!”

“Then you picked the wrong girl.” I answered. “Ride me, I'll let you do that, and you'll see.”

“My happiness was STOLEN from me!”

“And that means that you can't find it now? I asked. “I know what you feel, crap, I am you in so many ways now. Take what I can give you. Please.”

“No!” Constance screamed, and let me tell you. A disembodied scream is not something to ignore. Especially if you're really connected to the screamer.

“Then go away for now.” I told her. “Don't do this to anyone else, and why didn't you do this with any girl who stayed here?

Distraction. Always as good tactic, and I was curious.

“Wouldn't it have been easier to take a real girl and reform her in your image?

“They resisted.” Constance told me. “They all resisted, and left as soon as they could.”

“And that shouldn't tell you something?” I asked.

“You are no good to me!” She shouted and then her presence in my mind was gone.

Not a good thing given what had already happened. “Oh, crap.”

And, no. I didn't change back when she left.

The guys were staring at me like I was some alien who had just chewed my way out of someone's chest when I got to the living room.

“Hi guys.” I smiled and moved into the room. Being one of them was kind of ruined by the rustle of petticoats and the way I held my skirts. So sue me. I'd been dreaming of being this feminine all my life.

“You're not Mike.” Ryan started the conversation.

“No, I'm not.” I said with a little smile and shrug that had things moving that I'd never imagined would do that with the gesture. “But I was.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Joe was way out of his depth, but weren't we all at that stage.

“I was Mike last night.” I told them and was surprisingly calm when I should have been really bouncing off walls, ceilings, and anything else handy. “I woke up like this. Ask me anything about Mike that you know, and I'll answer you.”

We spent about an hour going through the simple questions, like where were you born, who was your first kiss, and girlfriend, stuff like that.

Then we went into things that my parents didn't, and shouldn't know.

“Mike?” Joe finally admitted to himself that what I was telling them was not some huge prank.

“Used to be.” I sighed. “Though I'm going to need a new name now.”

“No shit.” Ryan, agreed. “You are — not at all like Mike, you know.”

“Tell me about it.” I grimaced. “I know there are clothes around here that are more up to date than what I'm wearing. Check the storage shed, I know a lot of girls ran from this place without taking their clothes with them. And I love the idea of NOT looking like I belong in Gone With the Wind.”

“Then why did you dress up that way?” Joe asked, just to look more feminine or something?”

“I dressed this way because... wait for it now... My Old Clothes Don't Fit Anymore, and I didn't want to give you guys another nudie show!”

“Good points.” Ryan nodded with a quirk of his mouth that might have been the start of a grin. “Not that you are hard to look at either way.”

“Just go find those other clothes, please.” I glared at him and Joe and for some reason they both flinched, grabbed their coats and headed for the storage area at the back of the cabin.

“Well, you have that girl glare down pat.” Randy quietly told me once they'd gone.

“Don't remind me.” I grumbled while struggling with the skirt and petticoats to get myself situated on the couch without breaking something — on me in the process. “This is really messed up, man.”

“You don't have to hide it from me, you know.” He said very quietly and carefully.

“Hide what?”

“That is the way you always thought you should have been born.” He looked a bit uncomfortable saying that, but I could tell he'd seen through me and my facade.

I didn't deny it, try to avoid the subject, or try to act angry at his observation. Instead, I sighed and slowly nodded. “What gave me away?”

“Lots of little things.” He shrugged. “When you were Mike you were always one of the guys, did guy things, were tough, played rough, did all that macho crap and seemed to enjoy it. But when you looked at girls, it wasn't just lust, or wishing to be with one of them in your eyes. You had these brief flashes of wistfulness there too. It wasn't much, but it tells someone a lot if they know what they're seeing.”

“Not you, too?”

“No.” He chuckled and shook his head. “A cousin who was like you were, only he was small enough, and delicate featured, so he went for the whole deal. RLT, HRT, SRS. Now she's one of the happiest women I've ever known. That's how I could tell.”

“How could I have spent so much time around you and never realized you aren't the dim bulb we thought you were?”

“I'm a drama major, remember?” He asked with a wink. “And it's kind of fun not being the smartest kid in the bunch for a change. Plus you wouldn't believe some of the things I hear because people just don't think I don't get it.”

“You aren't really a drama major, are you?” I narrowed my eyes. “In fact I don't think any of us really know exactly what your major is.”

“Psych.” He admitted with a grimace. “But hey, a big dumb jock can have lots more fun than a nerdy, smart Psych major. And I admit that this is kind of a project for me. To see how the world in general looks at a male version of the classic blonde bimbo.”

I looked at him, stunned for a few seconds then couldn't help myself. It started out as titter, moved into the giggle stage then was suddenly fully blown laughter.

He watched as I got through that, wiped my eyes and accepted the box of tissues he handed me and then gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, it just struck me as really funny that we both had secrets that could really mess things up for us if revealed.”

“It's okay.” He smirked. “Besides, this dumb act is wearing thin for me and I keep doing things that could give me away if someone's paying attention. I'm definitely going to drop it soon.”

“Okay now that our deep dark secrets are revealed,” I grimaced, “there is one more I have to tell you, but it's only a suspicion so far.”

“Okay, what is it? Are you a lesbian, too?”

“How would I know?” I gave him a look that plainly said that was a really ridiculous question, then shook my head. “No, it's that Constance wasn't happy with me because I liked the change. She took off in a snit and I think she may try to take one of you guys.”

“Why?

“Something about her suffering for over a hundred years and wanting someone else to suffer just like she has.” I grimaced. “She savored my shock when I woke up like this, and my embarrassment when you guys charged into the room to see me butt naked and on my butt. Then I let her see that this was a dream come true for me and she left. Now I'm worried, really worried.”

“Is what she did to you permanent?” He asked, then slapped his forehead. “How would you know that? Unless she told you?”

“Nope, she didn't.” I lifted one shoulder in a shrug, still amazed and glorying in the way a simple shrug felt now. “But if it wasn't, I think I'd be back to being Mike and suffering the way I was. Probably would be, but she want's her 'avatar' to be female and in her image. She at least let me know that last bit.”

“So what can we do to stop it?” Randy asked. “I mean stop her from taking one of us guys and changing that one the way she did you?”

“No idea.” I let out a sigh. “I don't see an exorcist, or Jennifer Love Hewitt around either, so we have to figure out something and fast.”

“Only thing I can think of is to convince her to come back and ride you.” He said with a frown on his face.

“We'd better, and soon.” I waved at the painting then ran my hands down my sides. “Because she managed to do this to me overnight.”

Randy just nodded, then Ryan and Joe came back carrying several boxes each and set them down on the floor. Which effectively ended that conversation.

“We went through everything in the storage area.” Ryan announced tiredly. “The stuff in these aren't perfect, but kind of look like they'd fit you.”

“Thanks, guys.” I gave them a purposefully wan smile and then sweetly asked. “Could you please take them to my room?”

They grumbled, but did as I asked.

“That is indecent!” Constance actually gasped, and how a ghost can do that isn't really something I want to think or worry about, in horror.

“What? This little thing?” I grinned and did a twirl so the hem of the ice blue baby doll dress I was currently wearing flowed into the air as it lifted just a bit. “It's what girls wear these days.”

“Only a whore would wear something like in my time!” She retorted. “And even then only in the bedroom. No woman would have let herself be seen in public like that.”

So our ghost was a prude. Given the times she'd lived in I suppose that wasn't much of a surprise actually. I shook my head and answered. “Oh, don't get your bloomers all tangled up here, I am NOT going to wear this in front of the guys, trust me, that kind of attention I really don't need at the moment.

“But you have to admit,” I added as a little jab, “that I have great legs!”

She spluttered, but didn't say anything else I took the dress off. Not without some reluctance, but I was being honest when I'd told her that would get attention from the guys that I really wasn't ready to put up with yet.

The boxes of clothing had yielded some things I could use. Not everything was workable, but I managed to find things that would at least fit. Nothing in the trove fit exactly right, and finding a bra that didn't pinch dig, or grab uncomfortably just wasn't going to happen with this lot of stuff.

I had found some panties that fit, and some bras that while a touch too big didn't try to chew my new upper architecture to red, rash ridden ribbons. As things were going, I'd accept that and be happy with it.

There were a number of tops that fit well enough, though some were kinda tight, even for a girl, and others just kind of hung on my frame like a tent. Sheesh. And pants? The ones that fit my hips were waaay too long, and the ones that were short enough were so tight I couldn't even get them over my hips and butt.

How many girls these days do you know who are 5'3 with 36-24-37 measurements? I knew that because I'd scored a cloth tape measure from one of the boxes and checked. I had no idea what my cup size was but a D was too big, and a B was so tight it hurt. So I guess somewhere around a C cup but wasn't going to count on that too much just then.

I did find some shoes that fit. Yay! I was a size six according to the imprinted label inside of one pair of heels that I knew I wanted to try but wasn't going to wear at the moment. There were also a pair of trainers, and low heeled sandals, along with some ballet flats, so I really did have options there.

Oh, if you're wondering about the dresses, and high heels stuff? The cabin was close to a resort town with all kinds of places to go for a couple looking for a good time. No girl goes to 'rough it' in a cabin with that kind of stuff. Unless there is somewhere close by to show off in.

I ended up settling on a pair of lavender sweat pants that were only a little tight and didn't drag on the floor thanks to the elastic cuffs, a black sweater that kind of clung to my new curves but wasn't too revealing even if it did have a scoop neck that showed some cleavage, and black ballet flats.

All in all, it was a pretty comfortable outfit.

“Trousers? You're wearing trousers?” Constance complained. “Women don't wear trousers, it is indecent!”

“Oh quit with the indecent stuff, would you?” I grumbled. “Times change, fashions change. Women wear 'trousers' all the time these days. If you've been watching the people staying here you should know that already. Besides nowadays they're called pants or jeans.”

I sat down and brushed my hair in front of the mirror — another find had been a comb and brush set that looked as if it hadn't been used, and they were obviously expensive ones — and did my best to act as if I was ignoring her.

The makeup I wasn't even going to try. I had no knowledge whatsoever of how to apply it and had no intention of looking like I was trying to be a female clown.

Besides, with the porcelain like complexion I now had, I really didn't need makeup to look good. Now that was a very satisfying thought.

I glance out the window at the storm, which had changed to snow while I was trying things on and asked. “Did you do that?”

“No.” She admitted. “I used much of my strength transforming you. The next one will be much slower. I wish I had chosen one of the others.”

“Well you didn't.” I shrugged, loving how my hair moved when I did. Not to mention what the motion did to other parts of my body. “You can still have me, you know. I won't fight you. We could have a lot of fun, and you could find love again. This wanting people to suffer won't get you anything but misery. For your victim and yourself.”

“I can control what they do, be them.” She answered smugly. “What do I care about their suffering other than wanting them to have it? The person will be able to do nothing about it.”

“Not physically, or in their actions.” I answered quietly. “But any of the three guys out there would fight you all your lives on the mental and emotional level.”

“I will relish that. I have suffered, and been denied for so long, feeling another person going through that will be sweet.”

“Will it?” I questioned quite honestly. “Constance, you were never a bad person, I can tell that much already. Okay, so you lost what you had been looking forward to for your whole life. But should you use that to justify putting someone else through that kind of pain just because you can?”

“Enough of that!” She snorted then gave me an evil little smile. “I need to return to my chosen one and keep the changes going. Once this storm clears and we can leave, that one and I will be one and I will live again while another suffers as I have.”

And she was gone.

“So much for plan A.” I sighed. “I hope Randy has given the other guys the heads up while she was occupied with me here.

I also hoped that either Ryan or Joe could give her the kind of grief Randy and I were hoping for in Plan B.

Mostly because we hadn't come up with a Plan C as of yet.

All three guys had that jaw-on-the-floor, gobsmacked look that most of them get when a really beautiful girl walks out of bedroom and joins them. I gave them a general 'Yeah, it's me, and I know how I look, trust me' looking over and let out a sigh. “Okay guys, reel your tongues back in, breath, and if it's really necessary, you all know where the bathroom is.”

To their credit, all of them looked embarrassed.

“You're effing gorgeous!” Joe managed to stammer out. “Sorry I was staring like that.”

“What he said.” Ryan took a deep breath and looked really uncomfortable. “Ummm, excuse me for a few minutes?”

As he almost ran to the bathroom Randy gave me a wink and grinned before adding his own apology. “Yeah, sorry, Mike. Seeing you naked was one thing, we were all in shock, but in clothes? You're even sexier.”

“Watch it mister.” I shook a finger at him and shook my head. “There's a wait for the bathroom right now and sure as hell, I'm not going to take care of that 'problem' for you.”

When Joe wasn't looking directly at me, I gave Randy a little wink and grin, too.

And no, we hadn't done anything like that yet. But I did have hopes, and plans. Believe me, my plans in that regard had to start adding to Z. I was such a girl, and a pretty horny one too. Sheesh. It had to be Constance's influence. Right?

Okay, maybe not.

But we had other problems to worry about just then.

Ryan, red in the face and actually blushing, returned a few minutes later.

“Okay, now that you've taken care of that little problem, we have to figure out how to explain me once we get out of here.” I told all three of them. “Not to mention Mike going missing. People saw four guys in town and knew we were heading up here, and since I have no valid ID any longer, it could be a big problem, for all of us.”

There was more than one suggestion about that. Most of them so ridiculous they wouldn't even work in the movies.

We finally settled on one cover story that seemed the most workable.

The guys had heard a girl screaming for help during the storm and being the upstanding fellows they were had gone out to find the girl. Unfortunately they didn't do it together. Randy found me alone, naked, and terrified and coaxed me back to the cabin.

The others trailed back in once they'd heard Randy bellowing that he'd found 'her', but Mike didn't come in with the others. Given that as Mike I'd never done a lot of camping, trail walking, or anything related to woodsy stuff, it would look as if Mike had gotten disoriented in the forest during the storm and gotten so lost he couldn't find his way back. The lack of communications for the cabin made it acceptable that no one had called for help. And people got lost in these mountains all the time. Some of them were never found.

And the girl, me, couldn't recall anything but her name.

I so didn't want to be Jane Doe.

“So what name do you want to have?” Ryan asked me.

“Just a first one, a whole name would give the authorities too much information and they'd discover that there wasn't a missing girl with that name who fit my description.” I sighed. “And I have no idea.”

So the name game started. I won't go into detail on that. But I did nix Trixie, Barbie, Bunny, and a lot of others out of hand.

I settled on Roxanne. It was a pretty name, and I liked it. Plus I decided I could put up with being called Roxy if I absolutely had to.

It also kind of fit my new look. Innocent and sexy all at once.

Which. like I said, fit the new me really well just then.

“So what do we do next, Roxy?” Joe questioned. “You seem to know this ghost better than anyone else here, and with this snowstorm, it's going to be awhile before we're able to leave.”

I grimaced at the nickname I knew I'd pick up and shrugged. “For now, there is nothing we can do but wait. Just keep an eye on each other because she told me she can't do another 'Instant girl' thing like she did to me. So the changes will be gradual.”

“So now what?” Ryan asked still not looking directly at me after the way he'd been when I came out of my bedroom in clothes.

“Hey, we brought beer, food, have plenty of wood for the fireplace,” I grinned, “I think it's just time to relax for awhile.”

“You're taking this pretty well.” Ryan told me with a halfway suspicious look.

“What do you want me to do?” I responded with a puzzled expression on my face. “Panic, bounce off walls, scream a lot, deny that I'm a girl now? For some reason, I just can't do that even if I'd like to just get the stress out. So?”

Like a girl, I'd left him to work out what to do in that situation and just waited.

“Beer.” Ryan nodded, going to the cooler we'd never unloaded into the fridge and taking out one for each of us. “Just not too much.”

That last statement, from Ryan the die hard party guy, told me who Constance had targeted for her second try on this trip.

Or at least I hoped it had. Every once in awhile in the time I'd known him, Ryan had shown good sense, though it was uncharacteristic for him most of the time. I started to relax then.

Bad idea.

It wasn't Ryan. I'd been watching him closely and despite the beer, the nice warm fire and the almost romantic setting, he wasn't showing any changes. Damn, he'd just been using that good sense that occasionally messed up his fun.

I knew it wasn't Randy, because I'd been checking him quite regularly. Okay like every few seconds if you want to know.

It was Joe. The most unconsciously macho member of our group. He wasn't that way deliberately, it was just the way he was. Joe was just a guy through and through. Even Ryan had some personality traits that could have been called girly if someone wanted to get hurt by telling him.

But Joe? No, he was all guy. Not in that overbearing, obnoxious way, it's just how he was.

While watching Ryan and Randy I hadn't noticed how much he was twitching, or seeming to argue with himself in his head. Joe had this tell when he was doing that. His eyes narrowed just a bit, and his shoulders tensed. And I'd missed it.

He'd lost a little muscle, his face had softened a bit, and it was clear that he was struggling not to do something unmanly.

Once the shock had gone away, I looked at him and quietly asked. “How's it going, Constance?”

“Don't try to interfere” She said through Joe's mouth. It was strange hearing that statement start like a girl would say it and ending with an emphatic that was definitely male.

“Couldn't stop you if I tried.” I shrugged then gave her/him an evil little grin. “I don't know how for one thing and I think Joe is giving you a pretty good fight right now anyway.”

“He is stubborn, but I will win.”

“Will you?” I looked at her in him and shook my head. “I don't think so. Joe will fight you every step of the way, in whatever you try to do, until you both die of old age.”

“He will get used to it.”

“No, he won't.” I said without embellishment. “Joe is your quintessential guy. You'll never have any peace with him, even after you've changed his body into a twin of mine. He'll always be there in the background, fighting, hating what happened to him, and doing everything within his ability to mess up anything you try to do to get your happiness. I did warn you about this, you know.”

“I have no choice!” She shouted out of Joe's mouth.

“Yes you do.” I told her. “Take me. I'll even let you run things. I'll show you what you missed in your life. I don't care if I'm just an observer while it happens. Doing what you're doing to my friend will just have two people suffering when there isn't any reason for it. Come and take me.”

“You are not what I NEED!”

“I am exactly what you need, dear.” I countered. “I'm a willing host, I won't fight you, and if you'll let me, I'll help you see and experience what you missed in your life. Just don't, please don't do this to Joe. Take me, kill my consciousness or soul if you want to do that, but leave him alone.”

“You, you would offer yourself to save your friend?” She asked.

“Without a thought.” I said and just waited.

“You would give up all you are, or were, even die more thoroughly than death, for this one?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he is my friend.” I told her. “And so are the other two. I would die for them, if that was needed, because they have never stinted when I needed help. I can't say more than that. I'd be very ungrateful and not a friend if I just stood back and let you do this to Joe without trying to stop it.”

“So what do you want in return?”

“Come to me big sister.” I whispered. “Let me show you, take you through what you lost so long ago. You aren't evil, though what you're trying to do now is. You are just wounded. Come to me and let me try and heal those wounds. That is all I ask. You can do with me what you want, I won't fight you. Just come in here and start to heal.”

Suddenly, she was there, in my mind, my soul, my whole being, and she was crying.

“Get it out, dear.” I thought to her and gave her the mental equivalent of a hug. “If you want to run things I can live with that, but don't leave me, please.”

“Why? Why do you offer this?”

“Because you are more than my sister, you're me.” I gently told her. “I've been angry and hurting all my life, and then you came along and made everything right for me. Now it's my turn. Let me do this for you, please?”

“How can you do that?”

“Come along for the ride and I'll do my best to show you, beloved sister.” I said that aloud.

“You would do that? After what I did to you?”

“You gave me the dream that I could never have achieved, love.” I answered. “Now it's my turn to give you the one you never had. I love you, big sister, even if you do have some quirks.”

All I heard for awhile after that was sobbing.

“All right.” She answered very quietly. “Show me.”

“Oh, I'll do better than that.” I grinned while hugging her in my mind. “I'll make sure you feel it.”

She was quiet for a few moments then answered. “All right. You're friends are safe from me.”

“Oh, no they aren't.” I told her as I gave Randy a happy smile.