Trick or Treat 3
By: Enigma

Jamie was stabbed and left for dead behind the club where she worked as a stripper. Sometimes things just don't work out the way we planned or hoped...

Author’s note: For new readers, you really need to read the first two parts of Trick or Treat. This segment does not stand on its own at all well. For those of you who read and commented on the original two parts, I really need to apologize for this taking so long to publish. What you see below was actually finished just a few months after part 2 was posted. It did not come out the way I had originally intended. That, and some pointed comments by my editor, caused me to try rewriting it not once, but twice before giving up and letting it lie fallow for a (long) time. In addition, life has conspired to limit the time I can spend writing, and in suppressing the creative urge that let the words of the first two parts flow so easily from my mind to the screen. Thank-you to all who have read my little saga, and especially to those who have posted comments.

*****
Saturday, Dec. 12

Erin looked at the clock yet again. Jamie should have been home a half hour ago. Something was wrong, she could feel it. Taking her cell phone, she called the Lariat Club, where Jamie worked as a stripper. The club should have closed an hour ago, and Jamie should be home by now.

"Hello?" said the voice from the phone.

"Yes, is this the Lariat Club?"

"Yes it is. This is the manager. Can I help you?"

"I sure hope so. I'm a friend of Jamie, um your dancer called Dawn. I am waiting at her apartment, and she should have been here a half hour ago. Is she still there?"

"Um, no, I'm pretty sure she left just after closing."

"Oh. Well, could you check the parking lot for her car? Please. I'm really worried about her."

"Ok, hold on a minute." Bill set the phone down and let himself out the door into the parking lot. He mused softly, "Yep, there's Jamie's car. I wonder where she's got to." He looked around, and then thought he saw a spot of color in the inky darkness at the back of the building. Hurrying in that direction, he found a motionless body sprawled awkwardly on the ground. He knelt beside it and felt more than saw the blood that dribbled from a wound in the abdomen. "Oh my God!" He bent close to try to make out the face. "Jamie!" He grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911. Within 10 minutes paramedics were on the scene.

Erin fidgeted as she waited impatiently for the man to return to the phone. When she heard the siren, she got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She silently cursed him for leaving her hanging.

"She's still alive, but just barely," the first paramedic said. For 5 minutes they fought to stabilize their victim, and then loaded her on a gurney and into the waiting ambulance. "We're taking her to Sacred Heart Hospital. I hope she makes it that far." With that, the ambulance sped away to the sound of a wailing siren and squealing tires.

Erin heard the siren again through the phone. "Oh, noooo!" she moaned.

As he headed back into the bar, Bill finally remembered the caller and rushed back inside to the waiting phone. "Hello, are you still there?"

"Oh, thank god you're back," Erin sighed.

"Um, who did you say this is?"

"Oh, my name is Erin. I'm a friend of Jamie's. I'm staying with her right now. Did you find her? Please, tell me she's OK!"

"Uh, Erin, is it? Yeah, I found her. She's been stabbed. She was on the ground behind the club. They're not sure she's gonna make it. The ambulance just took her away. They're taking her to Sacred Heart."

Erin stood dumbly, shock flowing like ice water through her veins.

"Hello, are you there Erin?"

Erin struggled to pull herself together. "Um, yeah, I'm still here. Listen, thanks, I've gotta go to her. Thanks. Bye."

Disbelief held Erin motionless for a few moments. She wondered what to do next. She had to get to the hospital, but what else! Her brain was sluggish with shock, and nearly incapable of coherent thought. She had to tell someone, but she couldn’t think who. Wife! Jamie has a wife. What's her name? Amy, that's it, Amy! Last name? What's her last name, damn it? Jamie ... Jamie ... Hastings. That's it! Hastings. I sure hope there's a listing for James or Amy Hastings. She dialed 411, and the operator thankfully found the number and offered to connect her. She listened nervously as the phone ring.

"Hello?" said a very sleepy voice.

"Hello, is this Amy Hastings?"

"Yes. Who is this, and why are you calling at this time of night?" Amy replied with a touch of heat.

"Are you the wife of James Hastings?"

"You know James? Who is this? Where are you? Where is he?"

"Amy, my name is Erin. I'm a friend of Jamie's. I'm afraid Jamie's been hurt, Mrs. Hastings. Hurt very badly."

"God, no, please. Erin, please! Where is he? Tell me what you know!"

"Jamie was apparently attacked when she came out of work about an hour and a half ago They didn't find her until I called to see why she hadn't come home. The manager answered my call, then found her car in the lot, and looked around till he found her unconscious and bleeding behind the building. She's been taken to Sacred Heart. I'm on my way there now."

Amy had sobbed silently through the entire explanation. "That's clear across town from here. I'll be there as soon as possible." Amy hung up and immediately dialed an all too familiar number. She heard Paul's groggy voice answer after several rings.

"Hello?"

"Paul! Jamie's at Sacred Heart hospital. Can you come?"

"Amy? What happened?"

"I don't know the details, Paul. I have to go now. I hope to see you there!"

*****

Erin huddled in a hard plastic chair in the emergency room, waiting for word of Jamie. She knew from the reception desk that Jamie was here. She knew from the club manager that it was bad. But the damn hospital wouldn't tell her anything!

Amy burst into the emergency room. It had taken her over an hour to get here. She moved quickly to the desk to speak with the duty the nurse. "Can you tell me, please; is there a James Hastings here? Or maybe Jamie Hastings?"

"And who might you be?" asked the dour nurse behind the desk.

"Amy Hastings. I'm his wife."

"I'm sorry; we don't have a man named James or Jamie Hastings here."

Erin overheard and approached hesitantly. "Amy?"

Amy swung around at the sound of her name.

"Amy, I'm Erin. I called you a while ago."

"Erin, is he here? Is he going to be OK?"

Erin immediately picked up on Amy’s denial, knowing how hard it was for her to think of her husband in female terms. It was obvious that if Jamie remained female it would take a terrible toll on his wife. "Yes, Amy. Jamie's here, but they won't tell me anything else."

Swinging back to the desk, Amy said, "Why did you tell me James wasn't here? Can you tell me how he is? Do you know anything? Please, tell me."

"I told you there isn't a man named James or Jamie Hastings here. There is a girl by that name, so you can't possibly be her wife."

Erin broke in. "Jamie is a transsexual in transition. She was born a man, and is still legally married to this woman. Please tell her what you know."

Amy felt a chill hearing Erin's explanation, but straightened and flashed a grateful smile at the girl before turning back to the desk. The nurse did not look pleased. "Yes... Ok. The... patient was brought in over an hour ago, and taken immediately to surgery. We've had no update yet. Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do."

*****

Paul hurried into the emergency room, and was headed toward a nurse behind the desk when he heard his name called from behind him. He turned to see Amy's tear-streaked face as she huddled on one of the hard waiting room seats. Moving toward her, he noticed an attractive redheaded young woman sitting next to her.

When he approached, he spoke up, "Amy? Is she here? Have you heard anything? How is she? What happened?" By this time, he was seated beside her, pulling her into his arms.

Amy sobbed, "No, Paul. They won’t tell us anything yet. He is still in surgery as far as we know. And I don't know what happened." Amy looked questioningly at Erin.

Erin nervously cleared her throat, "Hi, Paul. I'm Erin. I'm a friend of Jamie's. I've heard a lot about you." She looked uncomfortably at these two strangers. "About you both. Um, I know a little more about what happened, but not much."

"Tell us what you know, please!"

"Um, OK. I was waiting for Jamie at her apartment this morning, um, waiting for her to return from work. She hadn't shown up by two, so I was getting worried. I called and fortunately, the manager was still there. He told me he thought Jamie had left about an hour before. I asked him to check the lot for her car, and then waited forever for him to return. While I waited, I heard a siren coming near the phone, then stop. Maybe 15 minutes later, it started again, moving away. I knew something was wrong. I just knew it! The manager finally came back on the line and told me Jamie had been stabbed..." Amy moaned in pain, "and that he had found her lying behind the building on the ground. That's really all I know. I got here as quick as I could, but they haven't told me anything, other than that she is here." Erin sagged weakly back in her seat.

Amy took a deep breath, pulled away from Paul, and marched purposefully to the desk. "Excuse me!" she said, her voice stern with authority, "I am a doctor, and Jamie Hastings' nearest relative. Would you please let her doctor know that I am here, and that I would appreciate talking to him as soon as possible?"

The nurse looked none too pleased, probably still unhappy over the disclosure of Jamie's transsexuallity, but she knew her job. "Yes, doctor, I'll pass on the message." As Amy returned to Paul, the nurse lifted a phone and placed a quiet call.

While Amy was gone, Paul focused on the young woman, Erin. "How is it you know Jamie, Erin?"

"Um, I met her briefly over a month ago. We have since become good friends, and I have been staying with her the last week or so."

Amy had returned in time to hear the end of the explanation, so she asked "How did you meet?"

Erin blushed, "We met at a bar, and talked for a couple of hours. I liked her right off, but then I didn't see her again for a few weeks. I was kind of surprised to see her back in the same bar. We talked again, and I liked her even more. We've spent a lot of time together since then."

Amy mused, "Over a month ago? That was before James left. Then the second time would have been after he left. But it's not like James to go to bars. At least, it wasn't like him. I don't really know who he is right now, or what he does."

Erin's blush deepened, and Paul noticed. "Do you know why Jamie was in the bar when you met?"

Erin squeaked a tiny "Yeah."

"Why? Please, tell us why," insisted Amy.

"She came into Mikaela's that first time looking for information." Erin looked from one to the other of these people that were so important to Jamie. She took a deep breath. "She wanted to know about transsexuals. That's the kind of place Mikaela's is..." She looked away as she finished quietly, "That's why the bartender hooked her up with me."

Amy sucked in a startled breath, and Paul studied Erin with a surprised look on his face. "Are you...? Oh, I'm sorry. It's really none of my business." Paul looked down guiltily.

"No, that's OK. Jamie knows, and you have a right to as well." She squared her shoulders and look defiantly at them. "I am a transsexual. I am pre-operative, waiting anxiously for the operation that will make me whole. Jamie needed to know, needed to learn. In case... um, in case she couldn't go back."

Amy looked to be in pain, "You know?" Erin nodded meekly. "Everything?"

Erin said quietly, "A lot. Maybe not everything. We’ve talked a lot these past few weeks"

Amy and Paul were quiet for a few moments. Finally Amy broke the silence, "You say you've been with him a lot these last few weeks. I've..." She glanced at Paul, "We've been going out of our minds since he left. Can you tell us about his life, er, what he's been doing since he ran away?

Erin huddled into herself. "I'm not sure I should. I think maybe Jamie should do that."

Amy pleaded, "Please, Erin. We have to know how he got here, why he is fighting for his life." Tears were dripping down Amy's face, and Paul looked like he was struggling hard to retain his own composure.

Erin saw the pain in their eyes. "Alright." She paused to gather her thoughts. "Jamie came back to Mikaela's, um, two weeks ago tonight I think. She wanted to learn more about what she might be facing. I saw her and spent the evening with her. The first time I'd met her, she had promised to tell me her story, so that night I talked her into meeting me for lunch the next day. We had lunch, then went back to her apartment and talked all afternoon. Her story was so amazing, and she was hurting so much, and so confused. By evening, I knew I couldn't leave her alone, in the condition she was in after telling her story, so I invited myself to stay the night. I stayed with her the next day as well."

Erin paused, as if to draw strength out of the air. "The next morning, I talked her into calling you, Amy." Amy gasped. "Then I left for work, and Jamie left for Colorado."

"Colorado?" Paul queried.

"Um, yeah. She was seeing a doctor for an operation up there."

Amy let out a startled screech, and Paul demanded, "Did she... Um, is she...?" He couldn't finish.

"No! It was a minor procedure to make her genitals temporarily look more feminine. She was worried about her job... about being discovered."

Amy breathed a sigh of relief, and then latched onto the last comment, "Her job?" Then somewhat wistfully, "I didn't even know James had a job. But why would he be worried about being read. His appearance as a female was remarkable. There is no way anyone would have suspected!"

"Um, well... She worked in a bar over on Third, not far from here. There were a lot of guys there, and she was nervous."

"He was a cocktail waitress?" Amy exclaimed in surprise.

Erin looked down, wanting to be anywhere but here. "No."

"Oh," Amy said with relief.

Paul took up the pursuit, "What did she do that she was so worried about, then."

"She danced." Erin spoke at just above a whisper.

Amy asked, "Danced? I don't understand."

Erin sighed. "It's a strip club."

Amy exclaimed loudly in surprise, "He was stripping?" then quickly looked around to see several heads turned in her direction. She blushed. Erin just nodded.

"Oh. My. God!" Amy whispered. Paul just looked as if he was going to be ill.

Erin rushed on to get past that, "Anyway, she was in Colorado for 3 days. I came to visit her when she got back, and ended up staying with her until tonight. The next week, this past Monday, she went back to work. Since she returned from Colorado, she has been getting more cheerful, less depressed. We talked a lot. She was coming to understand that what happened before wasn't her fault. She was finally forgiving herself, or maybe realizing there was nothing to forgive. Then this happened." Erin heaved a sigh. "I think she might have been ready to call you, Amy, in the next few days."

A couple of tears trickled down Erin's cheek. "She never stopped loving you, Amy." She looked at Paul a moment. "Or you, either, Paul." Erin wasn't sure how to continue. "She ran because she thought that was best for you two. She ran even though it tore her heart out. She loved you too much to continue hurting you." Erin hid her face in her hands and wept for Jamie's pain... and for her own.

Amy pulled Erin close, and stroked her head, murmuring to her, "Thank you. Thank you for being there for him, Erin. I could not have survived losing him forever. Thank you so much!"

After a while, Erin pulled back and gave Amy a watery smile. Amy looked at her closely. "There's more, isn't there?" She searched Erin's eyes, and then nodded her head with just a tiny smile. "He has that effect, doesn't he?" Erin gave a tiny nod, and looked as if the effort to hold the smile was costing her dearly.

"Huh? Did I miss something?" Paul asked.

Amy shook her head sadly, as if to say "Men!" She leaned close to him and whispered in his ear, "She loves Jamie, too!"

Paul looked confused, then smiled sadly and nodded.

Amy saw a tired doctor push through the swinging doors from the treatment area. She sat forward, and watched him hold a quiet conference with the nurse at the desk, who pointed toward Amy. The doctor straightened, and walked wearily toward the small group of people.

"Are you here for Ms. Hastings?"

"Yes, I'm his wife." Amy said.

The doctor looked distinctly uncomfortable with that revelation. "I, um, I'm Dr. Pearson. I've been working on Ms. Hastings for the last several hours. We almost lost her a couple of times. She is in recovery right now. It won't do any good to see her for several hours yet, she is heavily sedated."

"Dr. Pearson, I'm a doctor also. Can you tell me about his injuries and prognosis?"

Dr. Pearson wearily pulled himself up. "There was a single stab wound to the abdomen, just below the lower rib, slightly to the right of center. Fortunately, it missed the heart. It also missed her lung. However, it did damage her intestinal tract. We had to repair several severe lacerations in her stomach and remove a section of her intestines. Infection is the greatest danger now. She is on a course of very strong antibiotics right now. The next 24 hours are critical. If she survives that, she should make it."

Erin asked timidly, "Will there be noticeable scarring?" Amy and Paul looked at her shocked, wondering why that question. Erin whimpered, "Well, her job!"

"Um, that's the least of her worries right now, but no. There will be scarring, but it won't be too bad." He got a very uncomfortable look on his face. "Um, as we examined her when she came in, we found traces of semen around her mouth, and this in her bra." He held out a $100 bill, which everyone just looked at in stunned silence. He leaned forward to place it in Amy's unmoving hands. "And the paramedics brought this in with her." He handed a purse to Amy, and retreated quickly.

Amy unconsciously opened the purse to tuck the bill inside, but encountered a large wad of small bills, mostly ones and fives. She gasped, drawing Erin's attention. "Oh, those are just her tips from dancing last night."

"Tips?" Then in a whisper, "for stripping?"

Erin nodded. Amy looked a bit green around the gills. She was suddenly furious. "How could he be doing that?" she hissed. "How could you let him do that?"

Erin was cringing away from the sudden verbal assault, but Paul pulled Amy back and held her. "Shhh. Don't blame Erin. Jamie is an adult. It was her decision. Maybe, if we're lucky, we will even come to understand the reason some day."

Amy looked abashed. She stammered, "I'm sorry, Erin. I know it's not your fault, I am just so angry that I lost it for a moment. Please forgive me?"

Erin nodded meakly, but kept her distance.

*****

I seemed to be floating in a void that was slowly fading black to gray. There was no pain, very little feeling at all. Gradually I became aware of a steady beeping noise, but it made no sense to me. I struggled to open my eyes, and after some success, I gurgled and closed them again quickly as the light stabbed into my retina.

I felt a sudden pressure on my hand, and a new sound. "Jamie? James?" I know that voice. The voice of an angel. The voice of my angel. My Amy. My wife. My life!

Memory started to return, and with it pain, not physical, but emotional, and another moan escaped my lips.

"James, can you hear me?"

I try to answer, but the only sound is a groan.

"Oh, thank God. James, it's me, Amy. I'm here. I love you!"

Again, I try to answer, but the effort is too much, and the velvety blackness enfolds me once again.

*****

Paul and Erin kept the vigil in the waiting area while Amy sat with Jamie in her room. Both were near exhaustion, nerves ragged.

Paul nervously cleared his throat. "Erin? About the sem..., uh, the..., damn this is so hard. The money in her bra and the, uh, you know... around her mouth? Is that what Jamie has been doing?"

Erin sighed tiredly. "No, Paul. She wasn't a hooker. Um, other than once..." Paul jerked his head as if slapped. "No! She didn't do that. She did say that every night there were at least one or two guys that assumed if they were strippers then they were whores too. There were always offers. And Jamie always turned them down." Erin sagged wearily. "I'm guessing one of those guys wouldn't take no for an answer, and grabbed her as she left the club."

Paul rose and excused himself; hurrying outside to suck some of the chilled desert air into his lungs and let it sweep away some of the anguish that threatened to suffocate him. After a time, he returned to find Erin huddled in the same chair with her head in her hands. Paul quietly sat in an adjacent seat.

"Um, Erin? You said once... What did you mean?"

Erin struggled to find the right words. "Jamie told me about it. The dancers had to mingle with the crowd between dances, encourage them to buy drinks. Normally if the girls drink, they drink tea. One night, this guy wanted to buy her a drink, but gave her a glass already on his table, real whiskey. After each dance, he did the same thing. By the end of the evening, she was pretty smashed. The guy talked her into going home with him, which she'd never done before. When he drove her back to her car in the morning, he stuffed something into her bra and thanked her for a great night. The something turned out to be $500."

Paul seemed to deflate, asking wearily, "How many others? How many other guys did she sleep with?"

Erin said wearily "Only one other that I know of," then in a tiny voice, "besides me."

That was too much for Paul. It seemed as if a significant part of his world was crumbling around his ears. The woman he'd been falling in love with had been replaced by... by what? A stripper? A whore? He stood quickly. "I'm sorry. I can't take any more of this right now. I have to get out of here. Tell Amy I'll be back later."

"Paul, wait! Listen!" Paul glared down at the cute redhead. "Jamie has been going through hell. Just sit and listen to me for a few minutes, OK?"

Paul sank back into the chair, looking with quiet resignation at Erin.

"Jamie had managed to convince herself that the time with that doctor, um, Jerry, and then again at the Halloween party had to be her fault. That she had to have caused it. How else could it have happened twice? That was what she reasoned, so she came to think of herself as nothing but a tramp. A tease. She was crucifying herself for that, and she was hurting so bad from running away from you and Amy. She wasn't thinking right. She seemed to think that if she was a slut she should be acting like one. That led to the times with those two men. Really, she was punishing herself for her failures."

Erin checked Paul's face for reaction, and saw guilt, shock, pain.

"With me, it was different. It started innocently. I liked Jamie. She was nice. She befriended me when so few others would. And she needed a friend desperately. I had very personal reasons for convincing Jamie to let me examine her after the surgery. I wanted to have what she had. I looked, and then probed with my fingers. In one spot, the probing must have felt really good, and she sagged back on the bed and sighed with pleasure. Impulsively, I stuck out my tongue and brushed it across the same spot. Jamie moaned. It just kind of happened after that. It was a caring, healing time for both of us. Being a transsexual is frequently like living a nightmare, and it felt so good to be accepted. I needed it so badly, and Jamie needed the caring just as much!"

Erin drew a deep breath. "I'll admit it. I was selfish. I didn't want to lose the caring that came with being around Jamie. And as I found later, I was falling in love with her." She paused for a while. "But I also saw it as a chance to help Jamie heal. I knew if I was very, very lucky, if I was good enough, if I could help Jamie save herself, then I could give her the ultimate healing: I could get her to go back to Amy. And you." A tear trickled down Erin's cheek. "I knew it would hurt to give her up, but I also knew that was what she needed. And I had to help her do it. When she spoke of you, and Amy, there was an unconscious glow to her, and a terrible pain. It was obvious how much she loved, and how much she hurt."

Erin sighed, looking down. "So I took what I could for myself, and I tried to help Jamie. And it was working, I think. I'm not sure when she might have come home, but I know she was nearly ready to start talking about it. Nearly ready to see if there was anything left to return to."

*****

Awareness drifted over me like a fog, leaving impressions of my surroundings, yet nothing clear. Again I struggled to raise my eyelids, and this time the light was muted. After the effort to open my eyes, I rested, trying to make out some detail. White. White everywhere. Then that sound again. A rhythmic beeping, very regular. I could not feel much, and very little of my body seemed to respond to my commands. Was I paralyzed? Had I been in an accident? I wasn't hurting, but then I wasn't feeling much of anything. I remembered pain, though. What pain? I concentrated on that, and slowly it came back. The incredible, searing pain in my abdomen... The bloody knife as it slid slowly out... The hand that held it... The man standing above me... What he made me do... I gasped, and started sobbing.

Now there was another sound. Through the fog and misery it was faint, but comforting. I focused on that sound, trying to penetrate the fog that muffled it. Slowly it came clearer.

"Jamie. James, can you hear me? Sweetheart, come back to me. I love you. I need you. Please come back to me. Hold on, Jamie. You can do it." The angelic voice continued to soothe, feeling like a balm on the anguish.

The fog cleared a little more, and the beautiful face that went with the voice swam into view. Amy! But I'd lost her. I didn’t understand. She said she loved me! How could it be possible? I struggled to speak, but all I heard was a strangled sound.

"Shhh. I'm here, my love. It will be all right. You hang on, and we'll be ok." The soothing voice was like a lover's caress, and I calmed, then slid into darkness once more.

*****

Paul was torn. This supposed friend of Jamie's had told an incredible tale. This was not the Jamie he knew! She would never have done the things Erin described. But then, what Jamie had become after Halloween wasn't the woman he knew either. Who knew what this new person was capable of? He mourned the loss of the Jamie he'd fallen in love with. He was wondering what the chances were that that woman would ever exist again.

Hearing a noise, he looked up to see a weary Amy dragging toward them. Her face was tear-stained, and she looked ready to collapse.

"James came around for a few moments. He is still heavily sedated, so he couldn't talk, but he opened his eyes for a few minutes before going back to sleep." Amy sagged into a chair. "I had to take a break for a while."

Paul looked at her. "Amy, you've got to get some rest. You've been here almost 20 hours already with no sleep, almost nothing to eat. You can't do Jamie any good if you collapse."

"I know, but it's so far to go home. What if something happened? I couldn't get back in time. Besides, I'm not sure I could make it that far. I certainly wouldn't trust my driving right now."

Erin hesitated before saying, "Jamie's apartment is only about a mile from here. We could take turns staying with Jamie, and resting there. There's food there, and a shower, and, of course, a bed. If you want, I can show you where it is while Paul sits with Jamie for a while."

Paul wasn't sure he could stand to see Jamie right now, after what he'd heard, but he knew Amy had to rest. "That sounds like a plan. Neither of you is in any shape to drive. I'll call a cab to take you over there. After we each get a little rest, we can use our own cars again."

Amy didn't want to leave, but knew she had nothing left to give James right now. "Alright."

Paul asked the nurse on the desk if she could call for a cab. Fortunately it was a different nurse than the night before. With real dread, he walked to Jamie's room, to see her for the first time since she ran away.

*****

This time, coming awake was easier. I felt less drugged. The dull throbbing ache in my gut was almost welcome after the near absence of feeling I'd been enduring. I could even move a little. I turned my head toward the intermittent rumbling noise I heard, and saw a figure slumped, asleep in the chair.

There was a call button by my left hand, and I fumbled with it till I could press it. The effort was almost too much. An interminable time later, a nurse entered the room and came quietly to my bedside.

"Water" I tried to say, but I don't think that's what came out. She seemed to understand and lifted a plastic cup with a straw from the table, holding the straw to my lips. I couldn't suck anything through the straw, so she used it to dribble a bit of water into my mouth. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat. "More" actually may have sounded like a word. After several small drabs of water, I was feeling slightly more human. "Thank you." I think she actually understood that, though it sounded very slurred to me.

"How bad?" Formulating any coherent question was beyond me, so I kept it really simple.

The nurse leaned down by my ear and spoke softly and slowly. "You were stabbed just below your ribcage. It missed everything vital, but the damage was pretty bad. You lost a lot of blood. If we can avoid infection for the next day or so, you should be OK."

"Thank you." I rested a moment, and then my finger flicked toward the sleeping figure. "Who?"

She answered, "I'm not really sure. I think I heard that his name is Paul."

That woke a pain deep inside that was not physical, and I closed my eyes. "Thank you."

"The doctor should be in to see you again before long." Then she quietly slipped out the door.

*****

Amy and Erin had survived the quiet ride in the cab. They climbed out into the late evening darkness in front of a slightly run down apartment building that Erin had directed the driver to. She pulled out the key Jamie had given her, unlocked the door, and then let Amy enter first.

Amy looked around at James' new home. It was tidy, and had the typical apartment look she remembered so well from her time in medical school. There were very few decorations, but she suspected James had only intended to stay a short while. She saw a picture frame on the nightstand, picked it up, and tried very hard not to cry as she saw the picture of James with her at a park. She thought wistfully of how happy they had been then.

Erin offered, "I've gotten a little more rest than you at the hospital, so if you want to take a shower, I'll see if I can find something to eat, then you can get some real sleep."

Amy smiled her thanks, and then looked around till she found the door to the bathroom.

When she emerged, she wore only a robe she had found hanging on a hook. She assumed it was James'. As she toweled her hair dry she said, "Ah, that feels better."

Erin was just setting two plates with scrambled eggs and toast on the table, beside two glasses of orange juice.

"I didn't want to get too elaborate. I hope this is OK."

"It looks wonderful. Thank you so much." Amy paused. "And not just for the food. If not for you, I might have lost James for good."

Erin looked nervous and quickly sat at her place. Amy joined her. Amy studied the redhead as she ate the eggs and toast. "You and Jamie are lovers, aren't you?" she asked quietly.

Erin cringed, not sure what Amy's reaction would be to 'the other woman.' She was afraid to speak, so she just nodded, keeping her eyes on her plate.

Amy spoke quietly again, "I'm glad Jamie had you in his life. After all the pain he's been through, he deserved some comfort, some love."

Erin couldn't believe that a wife would speak so to her husband's lover, and looked questioningly at her. "You aren't upset?"

Amy looked down at her hands. "Yes... Not because James slept with you, but because he was put in the position that allowed it to happen. Where it needed to happen. I love James so much, but all that love couldn't heal the wounds I helped to inflict, nor could it keep him from running away and almost destroying himself." She looked up at Erin with tears in her eyes. "With all my love, I couldn't save him. I'm glad you were there to at least try." Amy quietly rose and put her plate in the kitchen sink, then crossed to the bed. She looked back at Erin. "Do you mind sharing the bed? It doesn't make sense for one of us to suffer sleeping in a chair."

Erin nodded quietly.

*****

I woke with a dull pain to find a doctor checking the wound under a bandage. There was a sound off to the side, and I saw Paul opening tired eyes, then jerking awake.

"Is everything OK?" he asked.

The doctor glanced back at him. "Yes, as good as can be expected. No signs of infection so far and all the vitals look good."

Paul rose and came to the bed, looking down at me, at my barely familiar face. I looked away. He must know I was Jamie, but he had seen so little of me since the disastrous Halloween party, and the changes I had made to my appearance.

The doctor spoke again. "A policeman was here to see if you could give a statement. I told him you were too weak, and too drugged, at this point." I nodded weakly.

"Hi, Jamie."

My eyes flickered to Paul, then away, and I whispered "Hi." How could I face him after the things I had done. Unfortunately, the doctor chose that time to leave, and I was alone with Paul. I was so ashamed. "How did you find me?"

"Erin called Amy last night, and Amy called me. She was here all day long, and just left a little while ago to get some rest."

I groaned, "Oh, God. Amy's seen me too?" Paul nodded. "Do you know what happened?"

Paul looked uncomfortable. "A little. Erin told us what she knew."

There were too many questions. How was I alive? Obviously someone found me, and somehow I got to the hospital. How did Erin know what happened? How did Erin know how to contact Amy? How much had she told them? Did they know everything? My job? The men? The sex? I started sobbing, and what came out of my mouth was "I saw that bloody knife come out of me, and I thought I was dead." I felt Paul's arms close gently around me. "I wish I was dead!"

Paul gasped. "No!" then in a quieter voice, "No, don't ever say that. Do you have any idea what that would do to Amy? There are too many people in this world that love you. Can't you see that?"

I moaned "How can she love me after what I've done? I've screwed up everything. I cheated on her. With other men, for God's sake! How can she possibly love what I have become?"

"Shhh. She just does. You are a part of her, and no matter what, you always will be. What is it you've become that she can't love you?"

I was almost afraid to answer, but I had to make Paul see why they had to stay away. So I summoned what courage I had and spat "A tramp! A slut!" I was trying to shock him into understanding. "A queer. A stripper. A cocksucker! A whore!" I struggled in Paul's embrace, trying to push him away.

"Jamie, stop. Stop!" I quit moving. "Amy knows about all that, and she still loves you. She just hopes you'll forgive her enough to start loving her again. That's all she wants."

I pulled back and looked into his eyes. "God, Paul. How can she believe I don't love her?"

He answered softly, "Maybe because of all the terrible things that have happened to you that she feels responsible for? Maybe because you left her? Maybe because for the two weeks before you left you would hardly touch her, would hardly kiss her, would hardly even talk to her? What else was she to think?"

My whole body was shaking with sobs. "Oh Paul. It's not true. I love her so much, but I thought I had destroyed her love for me. That's why I had to get away. Can't you see that?"

He gently pulled me close again. "It'll be ok, Jamie. She never stopped loving you. And if you still love her, you have to tell her. You can't keep her hurting like she is now."

My sobbing slowly faded, leaving me exhausted. I drifted into sleep still wrapped in Paul's comforting embrace.

*****
Sunday, Dec. 13

Amy slowly came awake; aware of a soft warm body snuggled against her. She was disoriented at first. This wasn't home, and that didn't feel like James. No, that's not right. Jamie. Memory slowly seeped through her sleep-fogged brain. No, Jamie is in the hospital. So who? Someone. That's right, Jamie's friend. Erin. The thought gave Amy a stab of discomfort, but the warmth of the contact was too nice to abandon just yet, so she lingered in bed a bit longer.

The pressure in her bladder didn't let her stay long, and soon she slid gently away from the warmth and padded off in search of the bathroom. When she emerged, Erin was just blinking into wakefulness.

"Morning," she mumbled.

"Morning, Erin. I'm going to get a bite to eat, and go back to the hospital. Do you want to come along to get back to your car?"

Erin nodded, and stumbled into the bathroom. When she emerged, Amy was already dressed, and eating a bowl of cereal. She had several cereal boxes, and the milk and juice out on the counter. The coffee was brewing in the coffeemaker behind her.

"This OK for breakfast?"

Erin nodded and poured cereal in a bowl, added milk and poured a glass of juice. "I wonder how Jamie is this morning."

"Me too. Paul has my cell number. He would have called if there were any problems. Coffee?"

"No, thanks. I don't drink it. Um, I'll be ready in just a few minutes." When she finished her cereal, she padded back to the bathroom, taking fresh underwear from a drawer in the dresser, and fresh clothes from the closet.

Amy noticed, but didn't comment. She herself had used some of Jamie's clean clothes this morning, but was feeling somewhat uncomfortable in the revealing outfit that was the only type Jamie seemed to have. She had first selected a conservative skirt and blouse, but found they weren't in the size she and Jamie shared.

Amy called for a cab, and by the time it arrived, Erin was ready to go.

Back in the waiting room, Amy said, "Do you want to go stay with Jamie for a while? If you send Paul out, I can take him back to Jamie's to get some sleep."

"OK."

*****

The light was brighter when I next awoke. The same dull pain was present, but tolerable, and I did not feel as woozy from the drugs. Unbidden, an image flashed in my mind. I was watching a clenched hand withdraw from my abdomen, pulling with it something that gleamed a dark red in the subdued moonlight, dripping dark streaks down my white miniskirt and onto the ground. Memory of the intense pain washed over me, and I heard a high-pitched scream of desperation before someone turned out the lights.

I gradually became aware of a gentle stroking on my right hand, and saw dainty feminine hands holding mine.

"Amy?" I croaked.

"No, Jamie, it's Erin. Amy will be back before long."

"Drink?"

Erin rose and brought the cup to me, and placed the straw against my lips. I eagerly sucked the soothing coolness into my mouth, and swallowed with difficulty.

"Thanks. Thank you for being here. I'm sorry I'm messing up your day off."

Erin's lips quirked into a tiny smile, "Me too. But just because I wish you weren't in here to begin with." Her look turned serious. "God, Jamie, I'm so glad you're alive!"

I looked away. "I'm not!"

"Hey! None of that now! I thought you were getting better about beating yourself up. No backsliding here, understand?"

"Yes, mother," I murmured, and then sobbed, "Do you have any idea what I did? I'm not sure how much more I can take! It might be easier if they hadn't found me. It would all be over now. No more pain. No more suffering."

Erin was gripping my hand tightly now. "Yeah, and no more caring." She leaned over the bed and gently, lingeringly, kissed my lips. "No more love, either! No more Amy. Or Paul. Now you just put any idea like that right out of your mind, hear me?" She looked uncomfortable about something. "Jamie, there's a policewoman outside that would like to talk to you, if you feel up to it."

I sighed weakly, "Not really. But I guess it has to happen sometime." Erin stepped out of the room, and returned with a stocky young woman in a uniform. Erin promptly took a place at my side, giving a warning look to the officer.

"Hello, my name is Janice Perkins, and I'd like to ask you about the man who put you in here."

Over the next 15 minutes I related everything I could remember about my attacker, the circumstances, how he'd hassled me at work a few days before. It was difficult reliving the nightmare, and very exhausting. She informed me that the hospital had given them a semen sample from the residue on my face the night I'd been admitted, and that it could be used to make a positive ID when they caught the guy. Apparently I just drifted into unconsciousness with Officer Perkins still trying to gather information from me because I don't remember her leaving.

*****

Amy led Paul to James' apartment. Paul had insisted he was rested enough to drive himself. Amy let him in using James' keys, poured herself a cup of the leftover coffee, and then sank wearily into a chair.

"How is James doing, Paul? Were you able to talk to him at all?" Despite his appearance, Amy just could not let herself refer to James in feminine terms, though Paul fully accepted Jamie as a woman.

"Yeah, she was awake for a while earlier. She seems to be doing surprisingly well, considering the severity of the ..." Paul had a little trouble with Amy's continual use of male pronouns for Jamie, though he figured it must be really hard for her to think of her husband as a woman.

"Assault? Rape? You can say it Paul. That's what we are going to have to help James recover from. That's what happened to him."

Paul looked away. "She still loves you, you know. She didn't run away because she didn't love you. She ran because she didn't see how you could still love her."

Amy pondered that a moment. "Yeah, I think I've known that all along. I don't see how he can still love me after what I've done. And I don't see how he can believe I don't love him." She looked down. After the silence became uncomfortable, she looked up at Paul, studying his expression. He avoided her stare. Amy asked very quietly, "What is it, Paul? What's wrong?"

He paused so long, she wondered if he was going to answer, but finally he spoke. "I can't do this, Amy. I've got to go." He headed for the door.

"Paul, wait!" He stopped with his hand on the knob. "Paul. Why?"

He took a long time answering, carefully not looking at her. "Don't you see? That is not Jamie in that hospital bed. At least, not the Jamie I knew. That Jamie was good, and kind, and loving. She could never have done the things that... person in that bed has done. I can't trust myself to be with her right now."

"Paul. That is the same person! The kind, loving person you were coming to know. You just have to look under the layers of pain, and abuse, to find the Jamie you were starting to love. And Jamie needs you, Paul. Jamie needs all of us."

Paul still wouldn't look at her. "I just can't!" Then he was gone.

Amy sagged on the table. After a moment, she swallowed the rest of the cooling coffee, then put the cup in the sink and started back to the hospital.

*****

The touch of soft lips to mine was delicious. I began the swim from the depths of sleep savoring that gentle touch.

"Erin?" I murmured as my mind cleared.

"No, James. It's Amy."

I swung my head away, miserable. "Oh, God, Amy, I'm sorry. Last I knew, Erin was here."

"Shhh. It's OK, honey. I know." She placed her hands on each side of my face and pulled my head back to face her. I shut my eyes. I couldn't look at her. "James!" she said sharply. "Look at me!" I grudgingly opened my eyes. "I want you to understand something very, very clearly, OK? I love you! I have never stopped loving you! Don't you dare ever think that I could stop loving you! Got it?"

Her eyes told me the truth of her words. The sternness of her voice made me ashamed of doubting her. Tears welled in my eyes. I whispered, "I thought I had destroyed your love for me. I've done such horrible things, how can you possibly still love me?"

"Because you're still the person I fell in love with, and vowed to spend the rest of my life with! And you haven't done anything that would make me stop! And whatever you have done... whatever we've done, we'll deal with. When you get home, we'll work this all out and figure out where we go from here. Together! Never doubt that!"

I reached up with my right hand, wincing at the lance of pain in my gut, pulling her head down till our lips met. After a timeless moment of gentle contact, I moved her back just a little. "Amy, I love you. I believed I'd lost everything when I thought I'd lost you. I still don't understand how you can love me after what I've done, how I've treated you, but I'm just thankful that you do."

Tears were trickling slowly down her cheek, and I brushed them away with my thumb. She lay her head down carefully on my shoulder and hugged as tight as she dared. The embrace caused further pain in my abdomen, but I hardly noticed. I was exhausted and still woozy from the drugs in my system, and began to drift off in her arms.
Monday, Dec. 14

When I woke to bright sunlight streaming in the window, I was vaguely aware of having drifted near consciousness several times during the night. Most of those times, I fell back into sleep almost immediately, but once it took time for my wildly beating heart to slow, and the nightmare images to fade. Despite that, I felt more rested, and as I became more aware, realized I did not hurt as much as yesterday, though the stark terror of the attack still lingered somewhere on the fringes of my mind. In addition to the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, I heard the sound of someone breathing lightly off to my right. Turning, I saw Erin asleep in the chair Paul had occupied yesterday. I smiled a bit sadly at my friend, my lover of the past week or so. I was grateful to her for helping me pull out of my tailspin, and uncomfortably aware of how I had betrayed Amy with this gentle soul. How was I going to set that right? How could I let her down gently, without pain? Heaven knew she'd had enough of that in her life, what with her true gender, and the transition she was undertaking. As I was musing, she started to stir, and saw I was looking at her.

"Morning, Jamie. How are you feeling today?"

I grinned wryly; "Ready to go dance at the club tonight, I think."

She giggled. It was good to see her smile after the last two days. "I take it that the pain is getting better?" She uncurled her legs from under her and rose gracefully to come to my side. I marveled how anyone could have ever mistaken her for a man.

She leaned down to kiss me on the cheek, and saw me blushing as she pulled back. "Erin ..." I began feebly.

"Shhh, I know love. You have Amy back now. I'll slip away quietly, now that I know you are getting better."

"No!" I said vehemently, then quieter, "No. Don't you dare! You are a special friend, Erin. So much more than a friend, really. And while things won't be like they were... I can't do that to Amy... I still want you in my life. I really want to watch you as you blossom into the woman you were meant to be."

She smiled, just a little sadly. "I'd like that." She looked at her watch. "Um, I really wanted to see you this morning, but I have to go get ready for work." She bit her lip nervously. "Amy went back home late last night, as she has patients she has to see today, but she said she'd be back later on."

I smiled my gratitude at her, and she squeezed my hand gently before slipping out the door.

I had slept pretty well during the night, and was fairly wide-awake for the first time since that awful night. I tried to take inventory of myself. Except for the deep, dull ache in my abdomen, and all the tubes sticking out of me, I seemed to be in pretty good shape physically. I shook my head ruefully and wondered how I managed to get myself into these fixes.

Not too much later, a doctor bustled through the door with my chart in his hand, and a nurse trailing in behind him. "Ah, you're awake, I see. Good. I'm Dr. Miller. How are you feeling this morning?" he said as he scanned my chart.

"Surprisingly well, considering."

"Good. Good. Well, let's just take a look at the wound and see how it's healing." Fitting actions to words he put on surgical gloves, pulled back the blanket and carefully lifted my gown to expose the bandages over my wound. I was embarrassed to have my naked groin exposed to him, but he paid that no attention as he focused on carefully peeling off the bandage.

It finally occurred to me what it was that wasn't right. I had a penis! Well, of course I had a penis, I thought with a tinge of discomfort. But the shock was that the penis was not hidden. "Um, Doctor?"

He glanced up from his task. "Yes?"

"What happened down there?" I felt my face burning as I pointed to my genitals.

"What?"

"What happened to my genitals?"

He frowned, then picked up my chart and flipped through it. He glanced at me, then back at the chart. "Oh, I see! There's a note here about having difficulty with the catheter, and having to do some work before they could insert it." He didn't look at my face as he went back to work.

With only a few twinges, he pulled the bandage free, and placed the bloodstained gauze carefully in a medical waste disposal bag. He peered closely at the wound, which I was now able to see for the first time. It was an ugly sight, puckered with the stitches and an angry red. It made me just a bit ill, looking at it. I wondered how I had managed to survive.

"Yes. Yes. It's looking pretty good. Seems to be healing nicely, and I see no signs of infection."

"Um, how long do you think I'll have to stay in here, doctor?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, if it continues to heal as it has been, I should think maybe another couple of days, to make sure infection doesn't set in. But you'll have to spend a good deal of time in bed when you get home. You understand that, don't you?" I nodded.

"When can I get out of bed?"

"If everything is still OK, I'll remove the catheter this afternoon, and then you can get up and around a bit, but only with someone to help you."

"Ok, thank you, Doctor Miller."

Breakfast was boring, just Jell-O and clear juice. But I didn't have much of an appetite anyway. Apparently I was on a liquid diet for a while at least. The rest of the day was interminable, with long stretches of boredom punctuated by brief visits by a nurse or doctor. It gave me a lot of time to think about my situation, and what was really important to me. It also gave me time to reflect on all the mistakes I'd made these last few weeks, and to put some of the things that had happened into perspective. I came to the realization I didn't much care for whom I had become, or the way I had treated the most important people in my life.

One thing did occur to relieve the tedium. I had another visit from the police. This time the officer was male, and considerably less friendly than Officer Perkins had been. I don't know if it was because I was a stripper, or because I was a man that looked an awful lot like a woman, or maybe he just got out of bed on the wrong side this morning. Whatever the cause, he treated me with little respect as he went over the same ground I'd covered the day before. It was a relief when he finally quit badgering me and left.

Late in the afternoon, the catheter came out, and a nurse helped me get out of bed to visit the bathroom. She was very gentle helping me, but there was still considerable pain, and I was exhausted by the time I got back to the bed.

Amy arrived shortly after dinner. I use the term 'dinner' somewhat facetiously. It was simply incredible to see her walk into my room. All the pain and longing of the past month just washed away, and I got a silly grin on my face. She came to the bed and kissed me tenderly. It was so good just to be in the same room with her. She stayed as long as the nurses would let her, and we talked, and talked. She was mindful of my distress over recent events, and kept the conversation light. She discussed current events, her work, anything except subjects that might disturb me. Eventually she had to leave, and I settled down to another long lonely night.
Tuesday, Dec. 15

Tuesday was much the same. Whereas yesterday I'd had to survive a police inquisition, today it was the hospital psychologist. While I was painfully aware that the assault just added more issues to the list I needed help with, it is incredibly hard to talk to some stranger about them. I'm afraid that poor man must have felt like he was pulling teeth, for all that he was able to drag out of me. He finally left, though, with the belief that I was not an imminent suicide concern, with an admonishment to send for him if I had any problems while still here, and with stern instructions to go back to Dr. Simmons at my earliest opportunity.

The meals didn't get any better.

And Amy was just as welcome at the end of the day, though I missed seeing Erin, and would dearly have loved to see Paul.

They gradually extended my walks, and the pain slowly waned. I jolted awake screaming one time during the night, unable to remember why. A couple of other times I woke with my heart pounding and visions of blood lingering. I was more than ready to get out of there by the time Wednesday rolled around.
Wednesday, Dec. 16

Amy arrived at the hospital early in the afternoon, and after a few hours of frustration getting officially released; I was wheeled to the car in a wheelchair. The ride home was long, and not terribly comfortable. The roads around here just aren't that smooth, and every jolt sent a shock of pain radiating out from the wound. At last we were back to the house I'd run away from so very long ago. I felt tears sting my eyes when the house came into view, and I fought to hold them back as we pulled into the driveway.

I made it into the house, with Amy's help, but I was drained and hurting by the time we got to the bed. Amy offered to make some soup or whatever for dinner, but I only wanted sleep. It felt really great to fall asleep in our bed again, despite the discomfort of the wound.

Sometime in the night I woke to realize Amy was carefully snuggled against me, and I smiled as I drifted back into sleep. I had no nightmares while safe in Amy's arms that night.
Thursday, Dec. 17

Amy was not in the bed when I woke the next morning, but I heard the shower running. A shower sounded really good, after spending so much time in bed, but I was going to have to wait another day or two before the bandages could come off and I could get my wound wet. A few minutes later, Amy strolled out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry, wearing not a stitch. My eyes drank in her lovely body, and I wondered how I had ever let myself leave her.

"Morning, sweetheart! How are you feeling today? Feel up to eating something?"

My eyes were still glued to the heavenly sight. "Yeah, actually I think I would like a little something. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I had my receptionist move my appointments, or find other doctors to take them. I'm staying right here today."

"Ah, I see. Afraid I might run away again if you let me out of your sight, huh?'

A flash of pain flicked across Amy's face before she smiled at my feeble joke. "Yup, you got it. Now I've got you in my clutches again, I'm not ever letting you go!"

"Listen, Amy." I turned serious when I saw the pain I'd caused. "I can never make up for what I've done to you. I'm sorry. I don't believe what I did..."

"Hush. Enough of that! That is behind us, and that's where it will stay. Now all we need to do is figure out where we go from here." She looked down at me, totally unself-conscious in her nudity. "First things first, though. I need to get you cleaned up, and then we can eat, and talk."

She slipped on a sheer robe that still offered tantalizing glimpses of her body, before bringing a basin and wash cloth to the bed, folding back the covers and helping me out of the clothes I'd worn home yesterday. She gently washed and dried my front, examining to the area between my legs as she worked.

"Have you noticed any change, Ja..." She looked distressed as she paused. "Um, I guess I'm not sure what to call you right now. Do you prefer James or Jamie these days? Or should it be Dawn?"

I blushed furiously, realizing she knew what I'd been up to recently. I managed to stammer out, "I'm not really sure any more, either. I guess while I still look like this, Jamie is more appropriate, unless you're more comfortable with James. Besides, that's what it says on my license."

She sighed, "Ok, Jamie, let's get you turned over so I can finish this job. Doing this takes me back to my intern days when the doctors thought it was great fun to put us to work helping out with stuff like this."

"Well, I think you do it wonderfully. If things get tough, you can always fall back on these skills and work as a nursing assistant, or a masseuse." It was true, her hands felt wonderful on me.

"Ok, all done. Let's get something on you and you can sit up in the chair while I change the sheets." She brought out a peach colored, knee length, silk nightie, and helped me up, into it, and then down onto the chair. She made short work of changing the bed. "There! Do you want to lie down again, or sit up while I fix us something to eat?"

"How about I come sit in the kitchen while you work. I'm tired of being in bed."

It was a treat to watch her fix breakfast, and made up for the discomfort of navigating to the kitchen. After she's set poached eggs, juice and toast at both our places, she sat down to eat with me.

After eating a few bites in nervous silence, she said, "Ja..., um, Jamie, you're not going to run away again are you?"

Her pain pierced me to my heart. "No, Amy. I learned some things from this fiasco. One thing is that I still love you more than anything. Another is that running doesn't make the problems go away. Finally, I learned that I need help getting through this, and I'm really hoping that you're the one who will do that." It was my turn to be nervous, and I found it difficult to meet her eyes.

She snorted. "Better believe I'll help all I can, buster!" She paused again with a worried look on her face. "But will I be helping Jamie or James? Don't get me wrong! I love both of them, and I want you to do what is right for you." She sighed. "But I kinda miss my hubby."

"I kinda miss being your hubby, too. And I'm pretty sure that's what I want to be, but I just don’t know if I can."

"You've learned more about the effect of the hormones, then?"

"Not really. I've kept the appointments with Dr. Myers, but the last couple of blood tests have still been inconclusive, though not discouraging. But it's not just that. Even if that goes the right way, I'm not convinced I can be a man again. I mean, look at this body!" I blushed and looked away. "And there have been other changes too." I struggled to get the words out, and couldn't look at Amy. "I've slept with men."

"I know. I heard. Is that what you prefer?" she asked gently.

My head jerked up, and I looked at Amy. "No!" I took a deep breath. "But it kind of changes you, you know?"

"Well, we'll work it out somehow. What is going on with Rick? Have you still been seeing him?"

Rick Simmons was the psychologist I was seeing before I fell apart. "No. I was too embarrassed about what was happening to be able to talk to him."

"Will you go back to him, or find someone else to talk to if you're uncomfortable talking to him?"

I thought about it for a while. "That's a hard one. It's really difficult to talk this stuff out with a stranger. And I'm not sure it was helping before."

Amy got a pleading look in her eyes. "Please?"

I sighed deeply. I knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. "Ok. Can you arrange an appointment for after I get back on my feet? And I think I need to get blood drawn tomorrow for the endocrinologist, if I can get there."

"I'll talk to Sol and see if I can take the sample here at home and take it in to him."

"That would be good, if we can. I'm not sure I could make it in there this soon. Speaking of which, I think I'd better get back to the bed while I still have some energy to do it."

I spent the day dozing, and talking to Amy. She was always there when I woke from my naps. How did I ever leave this woman? She also found time to run over to my apartment and bring back my laptop and a few other things I thought I could use here. That night, I was able to enjoy the sensations of snuggling against the woman I love again for the first time in such a long time, and I drifted off to sleep feeling her close to me. Again, my sleep was without troubling dreams.
Friday, Dec. 18

Amy rose early to get ready for work. She took her obligation to her patients seriously, and I already felt guilty for keeping her from work the day before, though I'd loved spending the time with her. She served me breakfast in bed, and gave me the most loving kiss before she left. I could have just drowned in that kiss.

I managed to get myself out of bed and into the bathroom to do the necessary. I was still pretty weak, but the pain was getting better every day. Not that I was ready to go jogging or anything. I spent some little time on my computer, going through the email that had collected over the past month. I was both pleased and worried that there were a few contract possibilities. I had been afraid that word of the circumstances leading to the termination of the last contract and the failure to get another might have spread and totally destroyed any possibility of future work. I composed answers to the two apologizing for being tardy responding, citing medical issues that would still keep me occupied for another few weeks, and inquiring if there was still interest. After the last two instances of trying to explain my appearance as Jamie, one resulting in verbal abuse and threat of physical injury, I was reluctant about meeting prospects in person, but I was not willing to give up my career.

More troubling was an email from InfoSource, the company I'd been working for when all this started. The man's name was unfamiliar, and there was very little indication in the message about the reason for the email. My mind flitted through various possibilities: demand for the return of the contract settlement, lawsuit, further harassment ... my mind was able to turn up way too many chilling scenarios. I posted a non-committal reply stating I had been indisposed, and inquiring as to the purpose of their contact. I forwarded a copy to Ken Gorman, my attorney, just in case anything disturbing developed.

Amy came home for lunch with the paraphernalia necessary to take my blood sample, and dropped it at Sol Myers' office on her way back to work.

Even though it was mid-December, the weather was warm in this southwestern American desert. After Amy left, I stripped out of her nightie, managing to get into a bikini without tearing my wound open, and lay on a lounge chair on the patio, letting the gentle afternoon sun soak into my bones. As I absorbed the heat and comfort, my eyes were drawn in morbid fascination to the bandage covering my wound. My imagination painted pictures of puckered raw flesh, disfiguring the body I had once taken so much pride in, the one I'd been living in these past few months. I was exhausted toward the end of the day, but managed to get out of the suit and back into the nightie, then collapsed back into bed before Amy got home.

After a light dinner that Amy brought me in bed, she snuggled up to me and started lightly stroking my skin.

"Jamie..." she spoke softly, and uncertainly. "Will you tell me about the time you were gone?"

I thought about that time, and tried to figure out what I could say.

She apparently decided I was ignoring the question, because she finally said, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

I sighed. "No, Amy, it's not that. I've just hurt you so much already. I don't want to make it worse. I think I must have gone a little crazy there for a while. I've done some things I'm not proud of, and I'm afraid telling you about them will only hurt you more."

"More than not knowing? More than imagining? If things were reversed, would you rather not know?"

"If I do, will you tell me about what went on here? How you coped, what you were thinking, feeling?" I noticed Amy squirmed a bit when I asked that. "It's only fair. I know I've kept secrets, but we've always been honest with each other before this, and that's something I really want to get back to."

"Ok..." she said in a small voice, "but you first."

I thought for another minute. "Let me go back a few weeks before I left, because I was shutting you out even then. You already know about what happened with Jerry. But I don't really think I ever talked to you about how much that shook me. I had never had a thought before then of any sexual interest in men, but I fell so easily into giving him oral sex. It made me question everything about myself. I think that's part of why I started seeing Paul so much, but that only made me feel worse, like I was cheating on you. It just seemed so natural, though." I was finding this really hard to say to my wife, but her gentle caresses and occasional murmurs of support and comfort helped me go on.

I continued, picking my words carefully, pausing sometimes when I couldn't figure out my own thoughts, trying to make it clear to me as well as Amy. "As Halloween approached, I was able to put the incident with Jerry behind, and just enjoy what we were sharing at that point, taking pride in my impersonation of you, in seeing how much I could learn about you. How well I could mimic you."

Then it got hard again, as I talked about the Halloween party. I spoke of the guilt I felt about putting Amy into that position with her boss, and the degradation I suffered submitting to Dr. Albert's perverse demands. The physical and emotional pain. The initial gratitude when Amy arrived to save me, then utter terror as I thought what this might do to her love for me. I tried to make her understand how that sequence of events virtually destroyed not only my self-esteem, but also any masculine ego I had left. I tried to make her see how that had sent me running to Sandy to change the way I looked, but not back to the male me, rather to an even more feminine image. Which in turn increased my guilt, and I couldn't face going back to Rick after going against his advice to put off any physical changes.

That brought me to the visit to Mikaela's, explaining that it's a bar that catered to TG's as well as others with alternative lifestyles. That was where I'd met Erin. I'd never talked with Amy about it, but at that point, I was very close to giving up on ever being James again, and needed to know more about a choice to remain female.

Because of the impending meeting with the company I was contracting for, perforce as a female they knew nothing about, I saw my lawyer, preparing for any repercussions to the contract, and also initiating legal procedures to change my name. I was nearly driven over the edge by that disastrous meeting at InfoSource where I endured not only verbal abuse, but also the threat of physical violence. I described how I searched desperately for a way to redeem my self-worth, and then remembering the offer from Paul's company. By the time that fell through, I'd had all I could take. My befuddled brain could think of nothing but to escape, and in my fevered thoughts I came up with the idea that Paul should step into my place to help Amy carry on. I told her of how I made Paul promise to do just that.

Reliving all the anguish to that point had me almost gibbering, trembling in Amy's arms. She tried to get me to stop talking, but I couldn't. Having opened the floodgates, I wasn't going to be able to stop until I had it all out there.

Next came the description of my flight, opening a bank account in Jamie's name using my new ID, finding a motel as far across town as I could get, not sure if I would stay there a while, or continue to run. Going out to drown my guilt and sorrow, trying to forget my lost life, my lost love, my pain. Meeting up with a nice guy named Jim, who sensed my distress, and wouldn't let me drink alone. How after several drinks, I wanted something different, so he took me to another bar, a strip club. How I entered in a wet t-shirt contest, and by taking third place, had won a chance to dance at the club the next night, and about being just drunk enough, and excited enough from the contest, to do it. I told of being offered the job, and in my battered state of mind, actually believing it was appropriate for me to have such a demeaning job.

In a way, it was easier now, because there were some good times to talk about. But in a way it was harder, because I had to tell Amy how I'd enjoyed the work, taking my clothes off in front of men, the thrill of moving to the music, attracting the tips, tantalizing the audience. Then I tried to describe my state of mind when I slept with Jim, before sending him away to keep from destroying him as I'd destroyed us. Then as I suffered from that breakup, one customer got me drunk, and sweet talked me to his home, his bed, and all the kinky things we'd done all night, followed by his confirmation of my fallen image when he made me a whore, paying me for services rendered.

The next day I was back at Mikaela's, my male side losing ground again to the female, looking for something, anything really, that would tip the scale, resolve my internal conflict one way or the other. That was how I hooked up with Erin again.

I talked of the healing Erin brought me, and how I sought solace in her arms and her bed, how she helped me rediscover what was important to me, and then, just on the verge of calling home, the attack.

By the time I'd finished, I was wrung out, and both Amy and I had tear streaks down our cheeks. She held me for a long time, murmuring calming words, soothing my pain, and then later reminding me of the rewards of the physical side of the love we share. I think it may have been the raw emotions uncovered by recounting my tale, but I woke screaming again, clutching at my abdomen where I'd just watched that knife withdraw, pulling my lifeblood with it. It took a while before Amy was able to calm me enough to sleep again.
Saturday, Dec. 19

Amy woke me the next day with breakfast on a tray. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was nearly 10 am. After the episode in the middle of the night, I needed the extra rest. She started my meal off with a lingering, tenderly passionate kiss that swept the rest of the cobwebs from my awakening mind. She sat in the comfortable chair near the bed as I ate; seeming to soak up the sight of me, home again. That, as much as nearly anything else, helped bolster my self-image, and a tiny spark of joy in what I am, who I am, regardless of the configuration and imperfections of my body. It felt good, and I swore to myself that I would find all the happiness I could in life as it came to me, putting the trials of the recent past where they belonged: in the past.

When I'd eaten, Amy hovered over me as I got myself up and into the bathroom. Per Doctor Miller's instructions, Amy removed my bandage, and I was able to take a shower for the first time in over a week. Amy joined me, and lovingly soaped my body, playing with the parts that gave me pleasure, gently and carefully cleaning the now healing wound that still made its angry presence known on my belly. She washed herself, then used her flowery shampoo on my hair, and applied cream rinse. We patted dry with soft towels, and then I sat at the vanity as Amy used the blow dryer on my hair. In the mirror I could see that my hair had grown enough in the last few weeks that the light brown roots were becoming quite noticeable against my artificially black tresses.

"You think maybe we could visit Life Style, and see if Ellie can do something with my hair sometime soon?" I asked.

"Sure, when you think you're up to it. Maybe I can get my color touched up as well."

Amy continued to dry, and then lovingly brush out my hair as we enjoyed the companionship, neither feeling the need to talk further. But after a while, Amy gave voice to her musings. "You know, before this I'd never had a lesbian fantasy, or any desire to be intimate with another woman, but with you it seems so easy, so natural. I wonder of it's just that I know it's you in there that makes it ok, or if I've had latent bisexual leanings all along?" She was silent again for a while as she stroked my hair to a natural sheen. "Whichever it is, it's nice to know that it won't be a problem whichever way you end up going."

I snorted. "You mean you won't kick me out when I become James again?"

She thought a moment. "Well, maybe. Depends on if I get any better offers! I wonder... Do you suppose Erin would be interested?" She dodged my playful swat at her fanny and stuck her tongue out at me. The camaraderie and light-hearted banter felt so good that I broke out in a giggles, even while clutching my abdomen to try to minimize the discomfort.

Amy helped me back to the bed, and cuddled beside me. I spoke softly, "Ok, your turn."

"Hunh?" I could see she was suddenly nervous.

"Time to tell me about what I've put you through these past few weeks."

I have to give her credit. She looked like she wanted to bolt, but I could see her gather herself, and absently stroke my arm while she pulled her thoughts together.

"The last few weeks before you left were so hard. You were shutting me out at every turn, asking for space, and I was so afraid I'd made you hate me. You wouldn’t tell me what you felt. You wouldn't let me love you. I tried so hard to get you to see Rick, but that just seemed to push you further away. All of that was bad, but then I thought my world had ended when I found that note." She paused, desperately trying to control her emotions as she relived that moment. Despite her best effort, a tear trickled from one eye, and I gently brushed it away.

"God, Amy. I am so sorry about what I did..." She gently touched a finger to my lips to stop me.

"Then Paul showed up, telling me what you'd made him promise. He held me as I cried, and put me to bed. He called work for me, telling them I'd be out a few days. He took a leave of absence from his own job, nearly quitting over what his boss had done to you. I was a wreck those first few days. We tried everything we could think of to find you, but didn't really know what to do, where to look. Nobody we talked to knew where you'd gone. I checked with Sol and Rick, but even friendship wouldn't make them ignore doctor-patient confidentiality. The whole time you were gone I couldn't even find out from them if you'd been to see them. The police wouldn't help since you left of your own free will." She was almost hyperventilating, and I hugged her tightly for a few moments as she calmed down. She finally resumed the narrative, "I was like a zombie those first few weeks, merely going through the motions because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't sleep much. I am amazed I didn't make terrible mistakes treating my patients." She gave a mirthless chuckle, "I dropped some weight, so I weighed as little as you." She stopped again, and I felt her tensing, steeling herself for something.

"Then I found your message on the machine. I fell completely apart. I called Paul, and was crying so much I doubt he could understand a word. He must have broken a speed record getting here, and all I could do was cry. He listened to the message, and tried to calm me, making the best of it, telling me we at least knew you were OK. He put me to bed, and before he left, I asked him to not leave me alone. He lay on top of the covers and held me all night." Tears now started leaking from both her eyes, and she searched my eyes, begging for understanding. "When I awoke before dawn, I felt his arms around me. At first I thought it was you. God, how I wanted it to be you. I kissed you, stroked you in the darkness. But it wasn't you, and suddenly I didn't care. I needed to be loved! When Paul started waking, he thought it was you making love to him, asking in a whisper if it was you. God forgive me, I told him it was, so he wouldn't stop. Before it was over, we both knew who the other was, but we didn't care." She sobbed. "God, James, it was so wonderful to feel that way, but so..." She searched my eyes for acceptance as she searched for the right word, "... so painful at the same time. To know I loved you so much, but to get such fulfillment from making love to someone else." She shuddered as the words stopped, and buried her head into my side. I held her tight, making soothing noises, gently stroking her head as she sobbed quietly.

After a long time, she pulled back and looked up at me, saying in a very small voice, "I'm so sorry, James. Can you forgive me?"

I tried to put all the love I had for this wonderful creature into my intent gaze as I asked, "Can you forgive me?" She just looked at me, not knowing how to respond. "Look, Amy. We both did things that we look back on and wish we hadn't, or feel weren't right. All I know is that I love you, maybe more now than ever. I don't think I'll ever forget the things I've done. How I've hurt you. But I want to get past all that. I want to be with you, if you'll have me." I'd intended to say more, but at that point she began smothering me with kisses, gently hugging me, trying not to hurt my still tender abdomen. She seemed so joyful and exuberant that I could do nothing but respond in kind. Soon her hands began to wander, and despite my weakened condition, I began to respond. She nibbled one of my nipples, and a tingling spread from that hardening point, spreading to engulf my other breast, and flowing slowly down to my crotch, where I felt a fullness developing that I'd not noticed lately. As much as I was enjoying the attention, the excitement and emotions quickly drained my meager energy reserves, and I drifted off to sleep as Amy still caressed and kissed me all over. I never did get the rest of her story, but she'd told me what she needed to get off her chest.

I resurfaced sometime later to find Amy no longer in bed with me. I heard voices, and gingerly rose from the bed, wrapping myself in a robe. After visiting the restroom, I walked carefully to the living room, following the sound of quiet conversation. As I entered, I saw Erin sitting on the sofa quietly speaking to Amy. When she caught sight of me her face lit up, and Amy turned, knowing it would be me. There was a gentle smile on her lips.

"Erin stopped by to see how you're doing."

I walked over and sat beside Erin, pulling her into a hug while trying not to strain my wound. "I'm doing fine. It's so good to see you. How are you doing?"

We talked for a while, until Erin could see I was tiring. She said goodbye with a chaste peck on the cheek and a shy glance toward Amy, and then stood to leave, with Amy walking her to the door. I saw Amy embrace Erin, then whisper in her ear before Erin walked out.

Amy sent me back to bed, and shortly brought in a light snack that we ate in companionable silence.
Sunday, Dec. 20

Sunday was another day that I spent mostly in bed, though I did manage a little more time out in the sun. Amy hovered around me much of the day, as if she feared I would vanish if she let me out of her sight. The warm sun felt good, but the angry redness on my taut tummy was disconcerting, and continually drew my gaze.

Late morning, the doorbell rang. I just stayed in the sun as Amy went to answer it. She soon returned with our latest visitor.

"Hey, stranger. I heard you were back. How are you doing?"

I looked up at Sandy with mixed feelings. "Hi, Sandy. I'm doing better, now that I'm back home. How about you?"

She responded with a wry grin, "Well, I've been better. In fact, I am better now that you're home."

We talked for a while, and I noticed Amy was quite reserved with Sandy. I wondered if all this pain would be just a waste, given the apparent gulf between them. Sandy examined the wound so openly displayed on my scantily clad body, and offered her expertise to minimize the scarring when it healed. Sandy apologized several times over the course of her visit for putting me through all this, but each time I pointed out that I'd gone into it with my eyes open, and had made all my own decisions. I tried to make her see that I didn't blame her for what had happened, but I don't think I convinced her. After a while, when the tension between them didn't ease, Sandy sadly took her leave. I decided that I needed to do something about the situation, as I wasn't about to let this exercise be in vain.

After Sandy left, Amy and I talked a lot, and it felt really good to reestablish the soul-deep connection we felt for each other. As the day progressed, you could almost feel the tension between us fading away, like dry ice left out in the sun. I must really have lost my mind to throw this life away.

I startled awake at one point in the night, with memories of an erect penis spewing warm fluid into my mouth with me on my knees looking up into the face of a monster. My heart was beating madly, and took some time to slow, but Amy seemed to sleep through my terror.
Monday, Dec. 21

I didn't wake fully till late on Monday, though I remembered Amy kissing me goodbye as she left for work. I rose and ate a light breakfast. While I was puttering around the office, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hello. Is this Ms. Hasting?"

I felt my gut clench, "Yes. Who is this?"

"Ms. Hastings, my name is Tad Robbins. I don't believe we've ever met, but I am a director at InfoSource." My hand started to shake, and I fought the desire to slam the phone down. My last contact with this company still gave me occasional nightmares.

Fighting for control, I was proud of how calmly I responded, "What can I do for you, Mr. Robbins?"

"Please, call me Tad. First and foremost, Ms. Hastings, I want to apologize for the way you were treated when you were here last. We have very explicit rules, not to mention the relevant laws, against gender discrimination. The project manager, Tom Kirby, has been reprimanded."

I wasn't yet sure what was going on, but at least I was no longer shaking like a leaf. "Um, Ok."

"Next, I want to commend you on the work you have done for us in the past. It has always been timely, and of the highest quality."

"Uh, thanks."

"Let me be frank with you, Ms. Hastings. We really could use your help. Is there any chance we could convince you to take on another project for us? Looking back, your work on the last one was top-notch, and the fact that you helped us recognize the inherent problems with the project design as early as you did saved our company a lot of money. We have significantly reworked the design, and would really like the benefit of your expertise to review and implement it."

Sucking a deep breath, I replied, "That's very flattering, Tad. But I am recuperating from a rather serious injury at the moment. I am not sure if I can commit right now."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Hastings. I wish you a smooth and successful recovery. We have a little flexibility in the schedule, and, to be honest, we haven't found anyone else we are willing to trust this to. Do you have any feel when you might be up to meeting to discuss the technical aspects? And let me assure you, given what we owe you for your performance on your last contract, and also for the abuse you endured from our employee, the terms of this contract will be much more beneficial to you than the last one."

I was still not sure I wanted anything to do with these people again, but I was also somewhat desperate to get my career restarted. I willed my wildly beating heart to calm. "Not before Christmas. Maybe early next week? Are you working the week before New Year?"

"Next week would be just fine. Say Tuesday at 9:00 AM?"

"Yes, OK. Hopefully I will be up to it by then. Could I ask you to forward a preliminary contract proposal to my lawyer to check over first? I hope you don't mind, but I would like some assurance against a repeat of my last meeting with your people."

"Ok, I think we can do that. I will have our legal people draft an addendum with some safeguards for you and forward that and our current standard contract."

I gave him Ken's name and address, said goodbye, and collapsed into a chair. It took me several minutes to fully recover, but I felt a spark of hope deep in my heart.

I spent some more time relaxing in the sun that afternoon. This is really the ideal time of year to soak up the rays. Far too much of the year is inordinately hot in this desert climate. Now, the cool air offset the bite of the sun nicely.

That evening, I managed to have a simple meal ready for Amy when she returned from work. Even though it nearly exhausted me, it felt really good to do these homey things for my life mate again. It's the little things that you seem to miss most when you lose them.

Over dinner, I told Amy of my conversation with Tad. She picked up my nervousness and asked if I really felt up to going. I assured her that I would be fine, and how anxious I was to get back to "real" work.

As we cuddled in bed that night, Amy asked, "Sweetheart, have you thought any more about the future? Am I going to have James or Jamie sharing my bed?"

"Amy, I'm pretty sure I know what I want, which is to be your husband. But I'm still really confused about some of the things I've done, and the feelings I've had while doing them. Also, the way I feel about Paul has me confused. What about you?"

There was a noticeable pause before she responded. "I love you as James, and as Jamie. And I want what is best for you." She took another moment before continuing. "Please don't take this as pressure to make you choose something that wouldn't be right for you, but I really hope I have my hubby back soon. Oh, and do you think you would feel up to seeing Rick on Wednesday after your visit to Sol? That was the only time I could get you in soon, and he'll be out of the office after that till after New Year."

It was not my favorite thing to look forward to, but Amy wanted it, and I knew I needed help, so, "Yeah, I think I can do that."

We snuggled some more, and Amy stroked my curvy body, gently arousing me, but not pushing for anything more if I wasn't up to it. As her finger trailed over my recently unfettered groin, lingering to lightly enflame my manhood, she asked, "Are you feeling any response down there? Is there any sign of improvement?"

I felt the pressure of pleasure building up inside me. "Yes," I breathed, "I do feel something down there."

Amy slid down my body and replaced her questing finger with a probing tongue, and the pressure continued to build. I ran my fingers through her beautiful golden hair, and moaned quietly. Amy shifted to a better angle, sucked my swollen cock into her mouth, and moved one hand up to tweak one sensitive and rock-hard nipple. The pressure increased, until finally waves of pleasure washed over me. I watched between the mounds on my chest as milky cum sprayed across Amy's nose and cheeks. It had been ages since anything I produced had had that milky color. Progress? I was hopeful.
Tuesday, Dec. 22

Amy was gone again when I pulled myself from bed. I showered, closely examining the slowly fading but still angry wound. After dressing and eating a little, I left the house for the first time since returning home, strolling toward the park. I missed my walking, and was anxious to get back to it. Or was it that I was anxious to see Paul again. I'd missed him since the hospital, and it hurt that he hadn't been around even once. Amy studiously avoided the subject, sidestepping my queries, so I knew there had to be a problem there.

I didn't even make it to the walking path before I started to tire, so turned around and headed back home. That still sounded wonderful; home!

After resting a little, I went to my home office and started putting things in order, just in case I had the opportunity to go back to work soon. The rest of the day was a mix of that, plus some sun, some light flexibility exercises, and a snooze on the couch. Also, I put together a bit better meal for Amy when she got home.

I awoke thrashing in bed with the feel of Amy's arms around me, and her voice murmuring comfortingly. It took a while, but I finally forced the images of terror away and fell back asleep.
Wednesday, Dec. 23

Amy roused me, as she got ready for work. This was to be a big day for me, as I had morning appointments with both the endocrinologist and the psychologist, and I was still quite weak. But it would be good to get out of the house for a while.

I ate breakfast with Amy for a change, and then kissed her hungrily before she left. I showered, washing and conditioning my hair, then set about getting ready to meet the world again. I was determined to meet a standard that would help me reestablish my self-worth. I used the blow drier on my hair, brushing it till it shone, glistening ebony in the light of the vanity, and arranged it to minimize the contrasting roots that had grown out.

For the first time in weeks, I considered the package between my legs. Since Colorado, I hadn't had to worry about it, but now, as I prepared to go out again, I knew I would have to take care of it. I found the appliance I'd depended on before Dr. Wells' operation and sighed as I glued it in place. I was not going to take any chances on presenting an unfeminine appearance!

I donned some middle-of-the-road lingerie, not wanting the overtly sexy look I'd had the past months, nor the plainness of simple cotton undies. I spent a lot of time on my makeup, and was satisfied with the "less is more" look that still emphasized my unmistakably pretty face.

I found a knee-length beige suede skirt, and would have loved to wear a cropped top with it, but that exposed my very noticeable injury. What I finally found was a cami top with an asymmetrical hem that bared my left hip above the skirt, and dipped below the waistband on the right, doing an effective job of covering my imperfection.

I left with plenty of time, so I could move slowly, conserving my energy. I arrived at Dr. Myers office a little early, and tried to recharge for a few minutes in his comfortable waiting room. After I'd been shown back by a nurse, Sol entered with his usual bustle and bluster. He did, however, spend a bit more time with me today. My blood work was quite encouraging, and he asked about any noticeable signs of the returning testosterone. I blushed as I described the gradual increase in sensation and reaction from my genitals, and the returning color of my ejaculate. He confirmed that those were indeed encouraging signs, and noted I may also start seeing a gradual increase in the coarseness and density of my body hair. I mentioned that my beard had been removed by laser, and that I had seen no noticeable change, as yet, in my chest or leg hair. He concluded the appointment with the note that we were still in the wait and see mode, but signs were becoming encouraging.

Once I escaped, I drove carefully to Rick Simmons office, and rested in my car for the half-hour till my appointment. While I waited, my cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey. How are you holding up?" Amy asked.

"Well, I am pretty tired, and not looking forward to seeing Rick at all, but other than that, I'm fine. How is your day going?"

"Fine. Just wanted to check on you. Will you be OK?"

"Sure, if I survive this next appointment," I said with a nervous chuckle.

"Do you want me to come with you? I can be there in ten minutes. It might be a good idea for me to hear what Rick has to say, and I don't want you to feel you have to face him on your own."

"Amy, love. I would love to have you here, but you have obligations to your patients. I'll be just fine. Maybe next time you can come with me."

"OK, if you're sure. Good luck. Remember, I love you!"

We said our goodbyes, and I trudged into the building to face whatever may come. I must admit that Rick was less into psychobabble and answering questions with questions today. But that may have been because he spent the entire time, plus some extra, extracting the whole story of my flight and my take on the reasons for it, as well as my time away from Amy, including the attack, my nightmares, and my recovery so far. That was more than enough for one day, and it left me wrung out like a damp dishrag.

I found someplace to nibble a salad for lunch, then set about finding something a little special for my wife, as Christmas was only two days away, and I had been a little too occupied lately to shop. I chose an upscale jewelry store to begin my search, and almost right away found a ring that I loved, and thought she would as well. It was a delicate band with entwined gold and platinum hearts that completely circled the finger. Inside, I had it engraved with "To Amy, All my love forever. James". There were matching earrings with interlocking hearts of gold and platinum dangling from a delicate chain, and a necklace with a fine chain supporting a larger pair of matching hearts that would nestle within the valley of her fantastic breasts. I was doubly thankful, as I'd found something I loved, and had found it very quickly.

Once the engraving was done, at extra cost to get it immediately, I made my way home and fell into bed. Amy woke me when she got home, and we talked over the dinner she'd put together. I was still emotionally wrung out by the time I went to bed, and not surprisingly I had a visit from my friend the nightmare. I was so glad Amy was there to comfort me.
Thursday, Dec. 24

Amy let me sleep late, and I took full advantage. Except for being on call a few of the days, she was off now until after New Year. I couldn't sleep too late, though, as my bladder became insistent. I made my way to the bathroom, and for the first time in a long time, I tried standing to pee. It seemed really weird, vaguely disquieting, even though I'd done it my whole life except the past few weeks.

Over lunch we talked about many things, one of which was the state of my hair color. As I made my way back to the bedroom to dress, Amy called Life Style and made appointments for both of us for the day after Christmas. We lounged in the sun for a while, and I dozed a bit too. We took a short walk together, and I was pleased to find I made it noticeably farther than the last time I'd walked. When we got back, though, I was pretty tired, and lay on the bed for a while.

By the time Amy called me to dinner, I was feeling somewhat rested, and was glad to spend some time out of the bed. We cuddled and listened to music, talking quietly about the past, the future, my work and hers, friends, family, and anything else that came up. The feeling of belonging again was glorious, and occasionally I felt a tear or two drip down my cheek as I savored the moment.

At bedtime, I used the solvent to remove the gaff I'd worn since yesterday. We climbed into bed with wispy nighties and panties on, but Amy first cuddled, and then tentatively touched me, heating me up with caresses, gentle kisses, and loving whispers. It wasn't long before we were both au naturel, and I was returning Amy's attention in kind. As Amy stroked my manhood, I felt it twitch and swell. She whispered, "May I?" I nodded and she kissed her way down my body until she could slip my mild erection between her lips and perform all manner of devilish and magical enchantments upon it. I was in heaven. It had been almost three months since I'd last been this stiff. While it was not yet hard enough to do the job for real, I felt a surge of hope as Amy skillfully tipped me over the brink and I exploded.

When I recovered slightly, I attacked her voraciously, kissing her lips, probing with my tongue, encountering the salty-slick aftertaste of me in her mouth. I switched to her breasts and licked, sucked and nipped till she was arching her back, pushing herself into my mouth, silently begging for more. And I gave her more, switching sides from time to time, and eventually working my way down to her most private spot, administering to her some of the pleasure she'd brought me until she climaxed not once, but twice. After that we cuddled, kissed goodnight, murmured our love to each other, and drifted into sleep.
Friday, Dec. 25

As I woke Christmas morning, the feelings of home and being loved washed over me. I realized just how lucky I was to have all this back after so nearly throwing it away.

Amy stretched in all her naked glory as she returned from the bathroom, and slipped back under the covers to snuggle against my equally bare form. "Merry Christmas, Honey!" she breathed into my ear. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. She brushed it away and whispered, "What is it, sweetheart?"

I struggled to speak around the lump I my throat. "I just never thought I'd be this happy again!" I buried my face in her wonderful bosom and held on for dear life, slowly composing myself till I could pull back and give her a sunny smile. "Merry Christmas, Amy. I love you more than I can ever express." This time she hugged tight.

Amy went to the kitchen to fix breakfast as I used the facilities, then rummaged through my purse to find the gift I'd bought for her, so precisely wrapped by the store. Slipping into a silky sheer robe, I padded into the kitchen. I set the table and sat down to watch Amy work, quietly placing the gift by her plate. When she brought the food and saw the package, she scampered off to our bedroom and returned almost instantly to set a small box next to my plate. By unspoken agreement, we ate first, chatting away, stealing occasional glances at the waiting packages. When we finished, Amy let out a giggle and grabbed her present, ripping into the crisp white wrapping. I lifted her gift to me and unwrapped more slowly, keeping my eyes on her.

When she got it open, she sucked in a breath and looked up at me with glistening eyes. "Jamie, it's beautiful." She lifted the ring and started to slip it onto her finger, but I stopped her, and raised her hand that held the ring toward her eyes. After an instant of puzzlement, she got the idea and looked at the inside of the band. Her eyes misted and she launched herself at me, pulled up before she made contact, and carefully but firmly embraced me, raining kisses on my neck, face, and mouth. Pulling back, she said, "I love it!" And squeezed me again. I took the ring from her and slipped it onto her finger.

When she moved back to her chair, I was able to unwrap her gift to me. I opened it to find a beautiful heart-shaped locket on a fine gold chain. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "Is this trying to tell me something? Expecting Jamie to be around longer?"

She got a worried look on her face. "No! Not at all. Look inside." I opened it to find facing pictures. Peering at them closely, I saw that they were not traditional, with one of her and one of me. Amy was in both pictures, smiling lovingly at the other person portrayed. In one picture, it was James smiling back, and in the other, Jamie. "Um, I wanted something that told you I love you both, and whatever way it comes out, I will go on loving you."

I couldn't leave that pained look on her face, so I slid to my knees beside her, gathering her into my arms and told her it was gorgeous, and I loved it, and the sentiment it conveyed. I handed her the chain and locket and held up my hair to let her lace her gift to me around my neck.

We both looked very glamorous as we cleaned up from breakfast, decked out as we were in our new jewelry and the similar nearly transparent gowns that showed as much of our curvy bodies as they hid. We got Christmas dinner on to cook, and then shared a shower. The sight of the water cascading over my beautiful wife once again brought me to semi-erect attention. Amy noticed, smiled, and played just a bit before we got down to business and finished cleansing ourselves.

Amy dressed casually, but attractively. I was a little surprised at the choice of clothes for us to lounge around the house, but I shrugged and dressed similarly.

During the early afternoon, the phone rang, and Amy answered.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi mom. Merry Christmas!"

I perked up and listened to Amy's half of the conversation.

"We're fine. How are you and dad doing? How's the cruise?"

"Uh, huh."

"Uh, huh."

"Sounds wonderful! Ja... Um. James and I will have to do that one of these days."

"James? Oh, he's fine." She looked at me and mouthed "now".

"Um, no, he can't come to the phone right now."

"Ok, I'll wish him Merry Christmas for you. He wishes you the same."

"Hello, daddy! Having a good time?"

"Enjoying all the bikini babes?" Amy had a wicked grin on her lips, and I could imagine her dad blushing brightly.

"Oh, come on, daddy. I know you're not too old to look!"

The doorbell rang. I looked at Amy questioningly, and she motioned me toward the door.

"Uh, huh."

"Uh, huh."

"Uh, huh. I love you, daddy. Enjoy your trip. Looking forward to seeing you when you get back. Bye."

I pulled open the door and found Erin and Jackie standing there. "Merry Christmas! This is a wonderful surprise!"

I heard Amy behind me, "I asked them over for dinner. Aren't you going to invite them in?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, come on in!" I'd been standing there with a goofy grin on my face, but backed away so they could step inside. "Welcome!" I gave them both a peck on the cheek, and added a warm hug for Erin that I was reluctant to end.

We had a delicious dinner made even better by the presence of friends.
Saturday, Dec. 26

As nice as it had been to see Erin again, and to have company for Christmas, it was also very tiring, and I awoke late to Amy's gentle pestering. She got me moving, and we made it to Parkridge Mall, and the salon with a few minutes to spare. It felt good to be pampered again, and Ellie did her usual marvelous job on my hair. When she was done, you'd never know my hair wasn't naturally ebony, without taking a look at the patch further south. Amy's darker brown roots had grown out considerably, in the two months since it was originally turned golden. With all the stress I'd brought into her life, she hadn't been up to visiting a salon to take care of it. By the time we left, it was all back to the golden hue we'd shared for the costume party.

The following days were quiet, with me resting a lot, but also trying to get gentle exercise so I wouldn't tire so quickly. I spent much of Monday poring over my notes from my last contract, hoping it would be good preparation for the ordeal the next day. I also walked again, this time making it as far as the bench where Paul and I had often met for walking. Of course, he wasn't there. I hadn't expected him to be, but I felt a pang nonetheless. I sat on the bench for a while to regain my breath before slowly walking home.
Tuesday, Dec. 29

After a very restless night, I was up before the alarm. My customary nightmare woke me, but I managed not to scream this time, so Amy was able to sleep through. When Amy got up, I was in the closet pulling one outfit after another off the rod, before putting them back to consider another. Amy calmly hugged me, holding on till I quit fidgeting, and then pulled an attractive navy skirt suit and a white silk blouse out to lay on the bed for me. Just like that, the first crisis of the day was resolved, and I started getting my nerves under control.

I didn't eat much, and spent way too much time showering, fixing my hair, and doing makeup. I was determined to look professional and attractive to lay the groundwork for restarting my career.

I almost chickened out as I sat in my car in the parking lot in front of InfoSource. Every gruesome detail of my last visit to this building flashed through my mind, and when I finally did emerge, I felt like I was slogging through setting concrete to reach the door. Again I clipped my contractors badge on, and did my best to appear confident as I strode past the receptionist with a brief nod.

A tall, ruggedly attractive man with distinguished graying hair met me outside the same conference room that was the setting for that last disastrous meeting.

"Ms. Hastings? I'm Tad Robbins. I'm glad you came today." He shook my hand, and then opened the door for me, ushering me in. When I saw who was already there I might have bolted right back out, but Tad had my escape route blocked. "Ms. Hastings, I'm sure you remember Tom Kirby, and of course, Jeff, the lead engineer on the project. Tom won't be staying for the meeting, but he has something to say to you before he leaves. Tom?"

He was looking distinctly uncomfortable as he rose from his chair at the conference table. "Ms. Hastings. I, um, I'm not quite sure how to apologize to you for what I did last time. It was unforgivable, but I want to express my deep regrets. I do not fully understand what you have been through, but I have learned something of it, and I must say I admire the courage it takes for you to come back here today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work that needs attending to." With that, he moved carefully past me and out the door.

I hadn't gotten a single word out through my parched throat, and shook my head dazedly after the door closed behind Tom.

"Please, have a seat, Ms. Hastings and lets get down to business."

I collected myself and took the seat he'd pulled out for me, sipping a glass of water set at my place. "Thank-you. And please call me Jamie."

"Jamie it is, then," Tad said as he seated himself. "I hope that wasn't too stressful for you Jamie. Tom needed closure. He had a lot of growing to do after his reprehensible conduct the last time you were here. I do believe he has learned since then, and has become a better employee in the process."

"What do you mean?"

"When we finally learned the details of his last meeting with you, he was given three choices: find another company to work for, with a less than glowing recommendation from us; take a significant cut in salary and job title; or study gender identity disorder, make a presentation to the staff on the subject, and if he did that adequately, be given a parallel transfer to another management position. He chose the latter, gave a credible talk on the subject, and indications are that he has become a better manager for the tolerance and empathy he has learned."

"Wow. I don't know what to say. All of that because of me?"

Tad smiled. "Yes. See how you are helping us out besides just being a technical wizard?" I blushed brightly. "Enough of that. Let's get this thing rolling."

We spent the next few hours poring over the technical details of the dramatically revised project. I could see where the architectural changes they had made would address some of the issues I'd raised, but the project was far too large to take in the full ramifications in such a short time. We wrapped up just before noon, and Tad insisted on taking me to lunch to discuss the non-technical aspects. It was a nice lunch at a quiet, stately, slightly posh restaurant. He showed me a copy of the contract he'd forwarded to my lawyer, and had heard back that Ken should have it reviewed and approved within a couple days.

As we were going our separate directions after lunch, Tad spoke up, "If you don't mind my saying, Jamie, you make a very attractive woman. On the phone you said you were recovering from something serious? Are you well now?"

I smiled ruefully. "While not completely recovered, I am getting better every day, thanks."

"Well, I hope you make a full recovery, and that you take the contract with us. It has been a pleasure meeting you, and I'm sure it will be a pleasure to work with you over the course of this project."

"Thank you. It was good meeting you too, and I'll let you know soon about the contract."

I was exhausted by the time I made it into my car, and just slumped behind the wheel for a few minutes, grateful that I'd been able to make it through the meeting as well as I did.
Wednesday, Dec. 30

Wednesday afternoon found Rick Simmons at our door. Somehow, Amy had talked him into a house call. Last week's appointment was an emotion-wrought recounting of my roller coaster ride of the prior two months. Today, he set out to help me make sense of what had happened, and maybe get a handle on the nightmares. Amy sat in on the session, and Rick let her know where he thought I stood, and what she could be doing to help. I told him that my hormone situation was getting better, and hinted at beginning the journey to restore my male looks. He was firm in his position that I wait till I understood myself better, and used his probing questions to try to let me find that knowledge. Some of the answers I had to give were quite upsetting to me, and I was feeling a little depressed by the time he left, and more than just a bit desperate to end this sojourn as a woman. Amy and I talked that night about my appointment. She understood my desire to speed my return trip, and knew I might ignore Rick's advice and act precipitously. She lovingly made her case for heeding Rick, and wormed a promise out of me that I wouldn't do anything rash.
Thursday, Dec. 31

Ken called the next day, to tell me that he and InfoSource had ironed out a few wrinkles, and that he felt the contract now did a much better job of protecting me in my somewhat delicate position. I made it into his office that afternoon, New Years Eve, reviewed the updates with him, and signed it in triplicate so one copy could be sent off to InfoSource while he and I each retained one.

Amy and I celebrated New Years quietly, together in our own home, with a nice bottle of champagne and some thrilling moments in bed together. I wasn't yet up to full intercourse, but Amy and I both sensed continued improvement, and rejoiced.

The following week included appointments with both the endocrinologist and the psychologist, and represented high and low points for me. I was thrilled that my hormones were trending toward the balance they needed, but came out of the other appointment confused and frustrated. I just was not getting a handle on what I really was. I knew that I wanted to be Amy's husband, yet the more Rick probed, the less sure I was that I wanted to give up this body.

The real high point of the week was the arrival of the signed contract from InfoSource, and Amy and I celebrated my reentry into my chosen career. It would be a week or more before I had what I needed to start really working, but it felt good to be gainfully employed again.

*****************

I stood on the back patio watching our many friends chat and sip drinks. As my gaze roamed from face to familiar face, I wondered where the last five years had gone. That Halloween seemed so long ago, and yet, in some ways it seemed only yesterday.

I smiled as my very favorite face approached me. "Happy Anniversary, Amy!" I said as I pulled her into a tender hug.

"Thanks honey. It's a great party, isn't it?" I had my arm around her as we looked out at the people here for this celebration in the backyard of our dream home.

"Mommy! Mommy!" We both smiled as our three year old daughter, Alexa, arrived at full speed.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Amy asked as I scooped Alexa up in my arms.

She giggled as I hugged her and tickled her at the same time. "Jimmy's playing with his food again!" She pointed at messy-faced little James over at the picnic table.

We both laughed as Amy swooped in on him, pulling him into her arms and nuzzling his neck. "What is Mommy going to do with you, you little scamp?" He howled with laughter as Amy cleaned him up and teased him at the same time.

I squeezed a few more giggles out of our little girl as my thoughts wandered back in time.

****************

It was about four months after my attack. I was mostly recovered, physically, from the stabbing. The news from Dr. Myers had continued to improve each visit, and in the three months since I'd had my genitals released from their temporary captivity, I'd slowly regained my male function, until I'd finally reached the point that I could really make love to Amy again, even if it was breast-to-breast.

The appointments with Rick Simmons were always emotionally draining. I was still frustrated at times by his double-talk, but I stuck it out, knowing I needed help to get through my confusion, and knowing he was among the best available. He made me question everything, and try to fathom the right course for my future. He was adamant that I not have the cosmetic surgery needed to look like a man again until we were satisfied that I really knew whether manhood or womanhood was what I needed. I just knew that I wanted to be Amy's husband, and the father of her children. But he would not waver on the surgery, and Amy made me promise to heed that advice.

So after I had regained the ability to penetrate Amy, we talked over the future, and decided it was time to start our family. I knew I wanted to be a husband again, so I was anxious to get on with it. Amy figured if I didn't make it back, she still wanted my children. Amy stopped taking the pill, and determined when she would be most fertile. The first month, at the appointed time, we had some wonderfully romantic evenings, and did our best to make a baby. But all we had to show for it were memories of delectable nights in bed together.

The next month, when Amy was sure it was the right time, she seduced me wearing some very sheer, very sexy lingerie one evening, and we shared a fantastic night of love. Though we made love every night for a week to try to ensure success, we both are convinced that that was the night our little baby was conceived.

As soon as we knew Amy was pregnant, we both decided the perfect name for a girl child was Alexa, as a tribute to my time in the guise of a woman. We both knew I would be back to being James before much longer. Choosing a name for a boy was much harder.

That was a wonderful time, and with very few exceptions, Amy and I were happy again. The exceptions came in two forms: my appointments with Rick, where he made me question everything, often leaving me depressed for hours or days afterward, and Amy's growing discomfort with making love to me in my feminine form, which only increased my frustration with Rick's stalling.

As was normal for us in all of our marriage, except the time that I ran away, we talked it out. We concluded that Amy was not truly bisexual, and it was only the novelty of the situation, and the knowledge that it was her husband that made our lovemaking enjoyable for her. We were both anxious to put that phase of our lives behind us.

It was a wonderful experience being with Amy as Alexa was born, other than having to watch my soul mate suffer the exhaustion and pain of the delivery. As we held our newborn little girl, all the pain was washed away in the love we felt for this new life we had created.

It is one of my greatest regrets that I was unable to be there for little Jimmy's birth.

********************

Alexa's squirming in my arms brought me back to the present, and I let her down to scamper off, yelling, "Look! Aunt Erin's here!"

I looked off in the direction Alexa was pointing while she ran, and saw the cute, tiny dynamo coming out of the house, cuddling a little bundle in her arms. Before I could go greet my her, another of my friends stepped up and claimed my attention.

"Hi, buddy!"

"Hey, Dan! Glad you came. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing just great. And I'm glad you invited me. It's been a while."

Yes, it had been quite a while. It was really kind of funny how Dan had become a good friend. Funny and sad at the same time.

********************

As our first child grew within Amy, I continued my visits with Dr. Simmons. I felt like I was OK, ready to end the weekly sessions, and get on with becoming James again. My nightmares had finally abated, and I was certain which course I should follow. But Rick didn't waver, and Amy, afraid of a possible repeat of my disappearance, agreed with him. So, to keep her happy, I continued.

Rick felt I still had gender issues I at least had to understand and accept before I made a final decision to be male. He insisted that I should live for a time as a woman. Well, OK. I had been for almost a year by then, inhabiting this beautiful body that circumstance and Sandy had given me. But no, it wasn't enough to just inhabit. I may have had a beautiful body, but I wasn't experiencing a female life. I was taking the "safe" way out, living with my wife and avoiding the social interactions he felt I needed before I could fully understand my future.

So, with Amy's loving support, I began to get out more into social settings. We again went out as two women to places where there were people to interact with, including dance clubs as we had back when all this started. I mostly talked with Amy, and danced with her, as two girls are wont to do. But she insisted I dance with others too, as Rick had advised.

It was one those evenings that we met Dan. He asked me to dance, and Amy urged me on. He spent a lot of time with us that night, dancing with me, occasionally getting Amy onto the dance floor, and talking with both of us. He was very nice, and the conversation came easily. He and I shared many interests, giving us things to talk about. When he asked for my number so he could call me, a glance at Amy told me to go ahead, so I gave it to him.

A few days later he called, and asked me out. Of course, he didn't know about my gender or my relationship with Amy. We had a fun evening, and shared a few gentle kisses, and it was nice, but no more than that. We had several more dates over the next several weeks, but at my insistence, we never got too intimate. Dan was a good guy. He didn't press the issue, but kept coming back for more. For my part, I enjoyed the time, but still had found nothing to convince me that being Amy's husband was not my future.

Dan said he had a good friend, and would like to have Amy accompany us on a double date with his friend Phil. Amy was reluctant, but my guilt over "cheating" on her by dating eventually convinced her to go along. It was enjoyable, though Amy was even less receptive to Phil's advances than I was to Dan's. But Phil was as nice as his friend, and didn't push the issue. One double date led to another, and then a few more. It was all good, mostly innocent fun. I also had several single dates with Dan, but Amy never went out with Phil unless we doubled.

Over time, Amy took her lead from me, and would let Phil do with her about what I was letting Dan do with me, so she shared a few kisses, and there was some cuddling and light petting. After a time, Amy called it quits, citing her advancing pregnancy, and turned down any suggested outings. I had realized that there just was not a serious romantic interest for me with Dan, but my connection with Amy made me aware that she was not quite as indifferent to Phil.

At any rate, Dan's attempt at romancing me evolved into friendship, with mutual agreement that we were not made for each other, in a romantic sense. We did occasionally do things together; but it was more like two buddies than as a couple, even including Phil at times. Often, when we three did something, Phil would ask about Amy, and I sensed he hoped that she would come around some day. Amy and I continued to talk, as was our custom, so she was fully aware that there was no romance between Dan and I, while I was aware she had quit seeing Phil because there was some interest, and she wanted to remain faithful to our marriage.

Not long after that, Dan met that someone special, and we had seen little of each other since, though we did keep each other up-to-date with the major changes in our lives. And our friendship had managed to survive.

********************

I shook myself free of my reverie, only to realize Dan had wandered on to talk to someone else while I was immersed in the past. I noticed Sandy greeting Amy, who gave her a slightly impersonal hug before moving on to another guest, leaving Sandy watching sadly after her.

I moved quietly beside her and said, "Hi Sandy. Glad you made it."

She smiled ruefully. "Hello, friend. I see she still hasn't forgiven me."

When my adventure started, Sandy and Amy had been best friends, while Sandy had despised me because I was a man. My trial by femininity had been intended to reduce the friction between her and me. The irony was that now, with the challenge long over, Sandy and I were pretty good friends, while Amy wanted nothing to do with her.

"Give her time, Sandy. It's not so much that she blames you for all we went through, as seeing you makes her feel guilty all over again. She's smart. She'll work it out one of these days, and you two will be thick as thieves again."

"I hope so. This sure isn't the outcome I had in mind when I came up with that stupid idea."

I decided to change the subject. "So, how's California? Is it as good as everyone says?" Sandy had moved her practice to L.A. after things got strained between her and Amy.

"Some good, some bad, just like everywhere. Business is great though." I knew that her reputation as a plastic surgeon had grown since the move, and she had all the patients she could handle.

"And what's this I hear about a man? Anything serious?"

She blushed. "Maybe. He just might be THE ONE, but I'm taking it pretty slow. You taught me that men aren't all bad, but I have a lot of history to get past, you know?"

Sandy wandered off to talk to another friend she hadn't seen for a while, so I refocused on Erin and smiled brightly as I made my way over to her. I kissed her on the cheek and looked down at the cute little baby she held. "Hi, Erin! How's the little one?" I asked as I gave Erin a friendly hug.

"Hey yourself!" She had a big smile on her face, and returned my hug. "She's great! I can't believe it's already been two months since the adoption became final. She's such a good baby, healthy, happy, almost never cries. I just love being a mother."

You could tell that just by looking at her. She seemed to glow, even in the light cast by the bright sun of the desert autumn. Of course, she'd been glowing since she'd taken the final step to being whole more than three years ago. She'd finally given in to my insistence that I wanted to help her financially to take that last step to womanhood. And that I wanted to be there with her as she took it. So I'd arranged my work to take a couple weeks away, and traveled with her to Chicago, Illinois for her appointment with her destiny and one of the top surgeons in the field. In spite of the pain and inconvenience she suffered for weeks afterward, the glow had been ignited, and has been a given since then, only increasing in intensity at her marriage last year, and now again with the adoption of their first child.

Thinking of her wedding, I asked, "Where's the proud papa?"

Erin grinned that irrepressible grin and said, "Oh, he sent me on ahead. He's trying to get all the baby paraphernalia out of the car."

About that time, I heard a clatter from inside the house, and saw Paul dumping a pile of baby things on the kitchen table before joining us, hugging Erin from behind and kissing her on the cheek while gazing adoringly at the child his wife held.

"Hey Paul!" I saw the look in his eyes as he gazed down at his little one.

"Howdy." He couldn't be distracted from what was important in his life right now, but he did give me a friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

"She's a little cutie, isn't she?"

"Sure is!" he said as he stroked the baby's cheek.

"I meant Erin, not the baby!"

We all had a good laugh, but Paul came back, "Yeah, that too."

As Paul and Erin moved on to greet others, I again drifted into the past.

********************

Paul hadn't been comfortable with what I'd become after I abandoned Amy. My wild ways, dancing as a stripper, sexual encounters with several men, being paid for sex, and living with and being intimate with Erin was just not behavior he could accept. Go figure! I did not see him for a long time after those few times in the hospital. He had fallen in love with an idealized Jamie, and found that I had feet of clay. It was more than a year later before I saw him again.

By that time, I'd gotten my consulting business back on its feet, and gone through the non-romance with Dan, as well as a few other dates encouraged by Rick Simmons and Amy. I'd gotten back into the habit of walking not long after returning home to Amy, and always felt a tug at my heart as I walked by the bench where I'd first seen Paul, and where we'd met frequently after that to walk together. In all the time I'd been back home, he had never shown up at the bench.

But one day, that changed. That day, as I approached the spot, there he was, doing his warm-up stretches, and I stopped some distance back to drink in the sight of him. I couldn't understand my quickened pulse, or the feeling of light-heartedness that came over me. I wasn't sure if I should run away, just walk quietly past, or say hi to him. But there was only one choice I could make. So I approached quietly, and meekly said, "Hi, Paul."

He turned to look at me, and I feared seeing a look of revulsion on his face. But after a few moments of terrifying suspense, he smiled his crooked little smile that had so often melted my heart and quietly said, "It's good to see you again, Jamie. How have you been?"

We walked together, and though the conversation was a bit rocky at first, punctuated by long stretches of silence, by the time we finished our two circuits, we'd mostly caught up with each others lives for the past year, and much of the awkwardness between us had faded.

I walked almost every day, and saw Paul several times that week. When my next appointment with Rick Simmons rolled around, he detected a difference in me, one that I myself either didn't recognize, or refused to acknowledge. Over a couple weeks, he dug with his annoying questions, circling the issue, attacking from different angles until he pried the gem of truth from me, and made me focus on why I seemed to feel a bit different lately.

That had been the beginning of the end for James, though it took some time before I realized it. Months passed, and I am quite sure that Amy picked up on it before I did. When I finally broke down in her arms and cried, admitting that I couldn't go back to being James, she was not surprised, though she was still saddened, crying along with me for the loss she knew was coming.

Within another month, Dr. Myers had me back on hormone therapy, and all my hard-fought inches back toward masculinity faded away in what seemed like no time. I did not discuss my decision with anyone but Amy and my doctors. Paul and I saw each other often as we walked, and occasionally met for lunch when I had reason to be downtown, but neither of us tried to advance a relationship past our renewed friendship.

The day I told Paul I would be out of town for a few weeks, I stepped close to him, pulling his head down into a lingering kiss. Paul did not respond at first, but soon all the hunger he'd suppressed for so long came alive in that exchange.

It was two years, almost to the day, after I'd been stabbed and left for dead that James did die under the knife of the same well-known surgeon that had completed my friend Erin several months prior. Amy was at my side, trying to be strong as she watched her dreams sliced away. As I recovered, I was incredibly sad for what I'd lost with Amy, yet at the same time I felt a serenity, a completeness, as if something I'd been missing my whole life had been found.

The surgery took a lot out of me, and it took time to recover. When I did get back to walking, I tired quickly, and Paul was concerned with my health. I told him I was fine, just worn out, and made no reference to my radical change. Now, however, each time we walked, I made sure I got at least one kiss from Paul, be it just a peck on the cheek, or a long intense one, with gradually increasing passion on both our parts.

A few months after the surgery, I was back up to full strength, and a confused Paul was sinking again into love with me, and afraid to question my relationship with Amy. On occasion, I'd have Paul back to our house for coffee after the walk. One glorious day, I made my move. I sat close to Paul as we talked and sipped coffee. When the beverage was gone, I kissed him, putting as much passion into that act as I was able. I circled my arms around his neck, holding him tight, and mashing my breasts against his hard chest. Then, without a word, I stood, took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom.

As I slowly undressed down to my panties, I could feel Paul's eyes on me. I had never been this naked in his sight before. Then I started on his clothing, until he was even more naked than I. Each time he started to speak, I shushed him, or silenced him with ever more passionate kisses. Pushing him down on the bed, I straddled him, kissing his lips, then scattering kisses across his neck, his firm chest and rippled stomach, working my way down to his maleness. By the time I reached that point, I was sure of Paul's interest by the rigidity of his member. After licking and sucking him to even greater stiffness, I worked my way back up his body to claim his lips once again. Slipping my panties aside, I moved his sword into position below my untried sheath, and groaned out loud as I descended, sliding his weapon home.

Paul's eyes were wide with amazement as he realized just what had happened, but I gave him no chance to ponder or comment, as I sealed his mouth with a deep kiss and set a gradually increasing rhythm that effectively halted all higher brain function inside his ruggedly handsome head. My rational thought faded within moments as well, and what remained were two almost civilized animals performing the mating dance that is as old as the species. My second orgasm came at almost the same instant as Paul reached climax, and when it faded I collapsed on top of this delicious man.

That was the only time we made love. We continued to meet to walk, and occasionally met for lunch, but Paul always managed to avoid my attempts to kiss him, or to be intimate. We still talked, and gradually he helped me see that what he felt for me was not romantic love. And slowly I came to accept it and value his friendship.

********************

A tear dripping down my cheek brought me back to the present. I glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed as I surreptitiously brushed it away. Across the yard I recognized a man and wondered how he got here. I didn't invite him. Maybe he came with one of the girls that had been invited. It was my old friend Rob, the man that had made a whore out of me. But that thought led to another, which in turn forced a giggle between my lips.

********************

It was a while after my one tryst with Paul, and I was lonely. Amy was still loving, in a platonic way, but was increasingly spending more time with other people. I dated on occasion, and even shared a few nights with guys or girls, but it wasn't enough. In looking for ways to enjoy life again, I thought back to my days as a stripper, and the thrill I'd felt teasing the guys in the audience, and feeling the tingle of sexual excitement running through my body. The Lariat Club was just the same when I arrived one evening. I'd dressed up nice and sexy, and gone back to see how it felt. I was a little past the prime for a stripper, but my body was tight and had all the right curves. The doctors had done an excellent job with my stab wound, and it was barely noticeable, even close up. I thought about seeing if Bill still ran the place, and might need another dancer part time.

The new manager didn't know me, and none of the dancers were still there from my stint at the club. I didn't get much encouragement when I asked about dancing again. Ah, well. Such is life.

I found a table and ordered a glass of wine to sip as I enjoyed the show. My body and mind may be nearly female now, but I still got turned on by a good-looking woman. As I watched, a man approached, and asked to join me. Son of a gun if it wasn't Rob, the one guy I'd gone home from the club with. I doubt he'd have recognized me a week after our "date", so I wasn't surprised he didn't seem to know me now.

"Sure, have a seat. Let me buy you a drink!" I signaled a waitress. "I'll have another white wine, please, and a glass of Jameson's for my friend here."

Rob showed his surprise. "How'd you know that Jameson's is my drink? Do I know you?"

I didn't answer directly. "You just look like the kind of guy that goes for the best." We watched the dancers, talked a little, and I bought him several more drinks. Finally, on toward closing, I whispered in his ear and when he nodded, led him out of the club. He tried to take me to his new Jag, but I shook my head. "Hold up there, tiger. You've had a bit to drink tonight. Let me be your designated driver." I led him past his car to my Lexus. Not quite in a class with his Jag, but it suited me.

I took him home, and had my way with him, doing a better job than the last time since I had the right plumbing now. After the first few orgasms, we slept for a while before I mounted him and rode him hard sometime in the night. He returned the favor as the sun rose, and then we showered together before dressing. I drove him back to his car, then insisted on opening the door for him, and used his keys to open up his Jag. He found this all very amusing from a beautiful girl, and chuckled wryly. Once he'd slid behind the wheel, I leaned to give him a deep kiss, and stuffed five crisp hundred-dollar bills into his shirt pocket before saying, "Thanks for the great night, babe," as I shut his door and then walked back to my car. I grinned all the way home. Of course, he probably didn't realize I'd just returned the favor, but even if he did, he'd probably feel pride rather than the shame I'd felt.

********************

Coming out of my reverie with a bright smile on my painted lips, I tracked down Amy again. She'd finished cleaning little James, and was speaking with Erin and Paul. Behind her stood a tall ruggedly handsome man with his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against him as he lightly rested his chin in the still golden hair at the back of her head.

"Hey, Phil, Happy Anniversary!" I chirped with a cheerfulness I didn't feel as I came up beside the couple.

"Thanks, Jamie. Great party! Thanks for doing this for us."

"My pleasure." I felt my control slipping, and knew I had to get away before my smile dissolved in tears. "Excuse me. I have to get some more food from the kitchen." With deliberate speed, I made my way to the house, struggling to maintain my composure. Slipping into the deserted house, I all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind me and collapsing on the commode as the tears came.

There was no denying I felt more complete as a woman, but despite that, I wanted what that man had! I wanted Amy's love. To be fair, I still had her love, and the deep bond we'd shared almost from the day we'd met. But I wanted the passionate physical love we'd had before that fateful Halloween challenge. I wanted it all. And the realization that I could never have that again was a bitter pill to swallow.

********************

It was very shortly after I'd resumed hormone therapy. The hormones seemed to rob me of my erections more quickly the second time around. Amy knew this was forever, that she would never have heterosexual sex with me again, and that made all the difference in our love life. The first time, we'd believed it was temporary, and with the novelty of my changed appearance, and the sure knowledge that it was her male husband inside the sexy female body, Amy had taken to pseudo-lesbian love with a passion. Much later, she came to realize that making love to a woman's body was not right for her, but she kept it up, willingly, because it was still her husband, and he was in the process of becoming her man again. But the second time, the novelty was gone, it was no longer temporary, and I would soon no longer be any kind of a husband. Nearly as soon as I lost the ability to penetrate her, all sexual relations ended between us, though we did still cuddle, kiss, touch, and love. But things had changed. Permanently.

Sometime before my surgery, Amy started seeing men again; sometimes double dating with me, sometimes alone. A couple months later, she ran into Phil again, and they went out.

It was about this time that Amy and I left town for a week. I was still somewhat male when we left, but when we returned, I was about as female as a skilled surgeon could make me. We had discussed it in the past, but on those occasions neither of us wanted to face the fact that our marriage was ending. The surgery was the final nail in the coffin, and we quietly completed our legal divorce soon after we returned, even though we continued to live together and sleep in the same bed. I didn’t begrudge Amy the chance to find happiness again. Despite her assertion so long ago that she would still love me just the same if I became Jamie completely, I’d held no illusions about this. I knew enough about her to realize there was no lesbian or even bi tendency in her. Even though she had a soul-deep love for me, that was not enough to let us remain lovers in my current state.

A few weeks later, she'd spent the night with Phil, and I was forced to accept that she'd found another source of the physical love I could no longer supply. She started spending a lot of time with Phil, and several months after I became a woman, she and Phil married in a quiet civil ceremony. I had not been present at the ceremony. Not that I was specifically excluded. No one was there except a JP and a couple of nameless witnesses.

Amy and Phil had a very small reception after their wedding. Just a few friends. And me. I had persuaded my two best friends, apart from Amy, to come along for moral support. It was the first time Paul and Erin had seen each other since I'd been in the hospital. But it was not the last. Paul knew that Erin had been born male, but by then, she was as completely female as modern medicine could make her, and more attractive physically and by way of personality than most natural women. They got to talking, at least during the times I wasn't clinging to them, trying to maintain my composure.

That was two years ago today. I had thought that by now I could handle this, and so had convinced them to let me throw an anniversary celebration for them.

Amy moved out of our dream home when she'd remarried, and into a nearby house that she and Phil had found. There was no wrangling over custody of Alexa. Amy and I knew and loved each other well enough that we shared easily. With me working at home most of the time, I took care of Alexa during the day, with the help of a nanny. With my flexible schedule, I was able to change her diapers, play with her, and feed her most any time I wanted, just adjusting my work around it. I had the joy of finding her first tooth, watching her take her first step, and hearing her first word. The nanny looked after her during times I spent at my computer, or when I needed to leave the house for work or shopping.

Much of the time that Amy was off work, Alexa spent with Phil and her. Phil is a good man. He is able to fill the father role for Alexa as I no longer can, and I am grateful for that, even though it hurts. It especially hurts now that Phil and Amy had little James, and Alexa has started calling Phil daddy, while I have become Aunt Jamie. It is probably for the best, since it will make her life easier at school and with her friends. Besides, Amy and I are very much like sisters now, with all the love and sharing that a good sibling relationship implies, so aunt seems like the right title.

Paul and Erin began dating soon after the reception, and got on famously. Their wedding six months later was at least a little easier for me than Amy's. I was so happy for both of them, as I love them both dearly. But my heart felt a few twinges as it sank in that I'd irrevocably lost any chance with Paul too. Then again, it is easier to free what you never really had than that which you thought was yours forever.

********************

After drying my tears and repairing my makeup, I made my way to the kitchen, to fulfill the excuse I'd used to escape. My step faltered as I saw Amy waiting for me, leaning on the kitchen counter. She can see right through me, and I noted her concerned expression as she realized I had been crying.

She hugged me tightly, and asked, "Oh, sweetheart. Are you alright?" She hugged me fiercely, and I felt the love she still held for me ease the pain just a little.

I noticed she was wearing the ring I gave her for that last Christmas we shared. I knew it signified the love we still share, and that eased my pain a little. With difficulty, I manage to answer, "Yeah, fine." But we both knew it was a lie. She held me for a long time.

Finally, I manage to whisper, "Amy, are you happy? Do you love him?"

She kissed my cheek, and then held me away, looking deep into my eyes. "Yes, for the most part I am happy. And yes, I love him. But it's not like the deep intense love that I had for James. That was one of a kind." She continued to look into my eyes. "How about you? Do you think you can be happy again some day?"

"I hope so. I don't know. Maybe. There'll never be another you. And Paul was special. And he came along at just the right time to let me love him. I don't know if I can love another man. Or another woman, for that matter. But I have hope. And I will always have you." I tried to put on a brave smile. "I just wish I hadn't had to give up so very much to have this feeling of rightness. I had to give up my heart to become whole, but how can I be whole without a heart?"