Spells R Us:  In The Bag

By and copyright 1998 Jay Seaver.  With the exception of "The Old Man", 
"Spells R Us", and other creations of Bill Hart, these characters and 
situations are mine and I'm pretty possessive when it comes to these things.  
Ask before using them and be willing to take no for an answer.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The bell rang as Ron entered the store, startling him.  It wasn't that the bell 
rang inasmuch as there was absolutely nothing connecting it to the door.  
Peculiar, to say the least.  Of course, everything about the store seemed to be 
peculiar.  Things were shelved without rhyme or reason - toys, food, books, 
and costumes shared space with other, less immediately identifiable items -  
with barely legible hand-printed price tags not always giving the values in 
U.S. dollars.  A dog which could probably thrash most wild jungle cats gave 
Ron a nasty look as he entered the door and then promptly ignored him.  The 
store looked entirely different than it did from the other side of the glass 
partition in the mall (for that matter, that side of the store appeared to be solid 
oak now), more like a below-street-level curio shop on a downtown side 
street.  The place gave him the creeps, and he turned to leave.

Doing so caused him to bump into an elderly man wearing some kind of gray 
robe who was apparently stocking shelves, spilling both the old man's 
armload of candles and Ron's previous purchases from the video store.  Ron 
mumbled his apologies as they began picking their things up.

"Accidents happen all the time, Ron; you are forgiven."

Ron looked at the old man, surprised to hear his name.  "Have we met 
before?"

"Oh, I know everyone.  That, and it's written on this reserve slip."  The man 
held up a small piece of paper.  No use unnerving Ronald William 
Henderson, college sophomore pursuing a degree in civil engineering, he 
thought.  There'd be plenty of time for that later.  "You seem preoccupied; 
perhaps I can help you find something?"

"Not unless you've got something that can break my roommate and his 
girlfriend up without her being able to trace it back to me."  Ron said it 
absently, and then immediately wondered why he had told this guy about it.  
He had a trustworthy face, but this wasn't something Ron usually talked 
about.  The only thing Ron could come up with was that there was something 
funny in the air; those candles were pretty fragrant even unlit, and they 
weren't the only odd smell in the store.

The old man smiled.  "That doesn't sound like a very nice thing to do."

Ron got defensive.  "You've got to understand; Felix saw Andrea about two 
minutes before I did, but those two minutes were all he needed to make his 
move.  They're not exactly a great match - Andrea and I have a lot more in 
common - very little chemistry, see?  I figured it was, well, not exactly 
doomed, but not really vital, if you get my meaning.  They just need this one 
little push, but there's been nothing to supply it."

The shopkeeper smiled understandingly.  He'd seen a lot of this in his time, 
Ron supposed, guys who were unlucky in love.  (And who, the old man 
added to himself, reading Ron's mind, resorted to the supernatural rather than 
sticking their own neck out.  But a customer was a customer.)  "I think I may 
have just what you're looking for."  He walked unerringly to a hat tree, 
pushed something out of "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" aside, grabbed the 
purse that was hanging behind it and placed it on the counter.

"That's a purse."  It was medium-sized, maybe on the small side, made of 
shiny green leather with a long green-and-black strap and a pair of pockets on 
the side.  It was probably a pretty nice purse, but Ron didn't immediately see 
its connection to his dilemma.

"It is a handbag, yes.  Arrange for Felix to find this bag, and the contents will 
solve your problems."

"How?"

"It's magic."

Ron was about to scoff, but then he remembered the bell, and the door, and 
the wall...  There certainly could be something paranormal about this place, 
but "it's magic" hardly qualified as an explanation.  "I'm not sure..."

The old man finally began acting like a salesman.  "I'll tell you what.  The 
handbag costs fifty dollars; I'll let you have it for forty, but if it doesn't do 
what I said it will, bring it back tomorrow and I'll refund you the full fifty."

College students have a notoriously difficult time resisting the siren song of 
free money, even if it's only ten dollars.  As Ron pulled his last two twenties 
out of his wallet, he asked the old man one question.  "You say this thing's 
'magic' - are there any special instructions I should follow to keep it from 
blowing up in my face?"

"In most respects, it is a normal handbag.  I would recommend, though, that 
no man other than Felix, including yourself, attempt to open it.  The results 
can be unpredictable."  The old man finished writing up the receipt and 
tucked it into one of the purse's side pockets

"Uh...right."  Ron looked at his watch; he'd have to be at work in half an 
hour.  "Thanks a lot.  Um...could you put it in a bag or something?  I'd feel 
kind of silly carrying this around."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ron and Felix both worked part-time at ShowTime Cinema 6, a few blocks 
away from the campus.  The pay pretty much sucked (though free movies 
made up for that some), but the hours accommodated a student's schedule 
and the work was usually pretty light.  It was Thursday and they were both 
working as ushers that night.  Two were needed since new movies opened on 
Friday, and they had to help the projectionist put the films together, put an 
order of candy and popcorn away, and change the marquees along with 
keeping the place reasonably clean.  Ron was walking across the street from 
the bus stop when he saw Andrea dropping his roommate off.  They made 
variations on the usual jokes; tonight Felix was hoping someone brought a 
laser pointer because he was just itching to throw someone out.  They stowed 
their stuff and got to work.

Midway through the first group of shows, Ron started the ball rolling.  The 
purse felt like it would burn his hand as he tucked it into an unused seat while 
checking focus and temperature in theater 4.  Ridiculous, superstitious 
nonsense, he knew, but there was something creepy about the whole thing.

Meanwhile, Felix was busting his hump moving fifty-pound bags of popcorn 
across the lobby.  He would really rather be studying with Andrea, albeit for 
different quizzes, but his car was in the shop and the prognosis did not look 
good (or, more to the point, cheap); he needed the money.  She was pretty 
understanding, though.  Nothing seemed to faze her one way or the other.

As the shows got out (for a wonder, the home office had staggered end times 
so that they'd be able to actually clean the theaters), Felix looked at theater 4 
and sighed.  One guy had eaten a whole bag of unshelled peanuts, no-one 
knew how to use the trash can and some kids had evidently been throwing 
Goobers at each other.  And it was usually dead Thursday night.  Walking 
over to the supply closet to get the big bin on wheels, Felix removed the 
walkie-talkie from his belt and spoke into it.  "Ron, could you help me pick 
four?  It's a real hole."

Ron froze at the other end of the building.  Could Felix know something was 
up?  No, that was ridiculous.  It was an unusually crowded showing and, 
besides, hadn't he said "untraceable", and hadn't the old guy promised it 
would do what he said?  "Sure.  Be right down."  Besides, it's not like the 
purse would do anything.

They divided up the theater, Ron taking left and Felix taking right.  They'd 
made it about two-thirds the way to the front when Felix found the purse.

"Hey, looks like someone lost their purse."  Ron turned around, not knowing 
for sure what was going to happen.

"Check inside; maybe there's an address or something."

"And I suppose you want it, right?"  Felix grinned and unsnapped the catch.  
He reached inside and immediately noticed that something was wrong.  
"Hey, it's like cold inside... What the hell?"  It was as if something had 
grabbed his hand.  He jerked his hand back but even before it had cleared the 
bag there was a pull, and suddenly his right arm was in up to his elbow.  He 
pulled with his shoulder and pushed with his left hand; but even pushing with 
all his strength, he only made about four inches worth of progress before the 
purse lurched all the way up his arm to his shoulder.  He pushed it down a 
couple of inches when the opening stretched weirdly, expanding twenty-fold 
in size and throwing Felix off balance.  As he fell, the "mouth" suddenly 
contracted, and the purse was stretched taut across his shoulders, making it 
look as though he had no right arm or head.  He silently flailed with his left 
arm, grabbing at the purse and trying to pull it off his upper body, but with a 
sucking sound it absorbed him all the way to the waist, stopping there only 
because Felix's fingers somehow managed to curl around the opening from 
inside the bag.

Felix strained to pull this demonically possessed piece of haberdashery off, 
while Ron just stood there with his mouth open, watching a handbag with his 
friend's legs sticking out run madly around the theater, crashing into seats 
and finally slipping on a spilled Pepsi.  Felix landed on his already white 
knuckles, causing him to release his grip for a second, during which time his 
kicking legs were sucked into the purse like two strands of spaghetti.  Ron 
figured that the satisfied burping sound was a product of his imagination - it 
couldn't possibly have emanated from the handbag which lay in the aisle, 
looking absolutely none the worse for the wear.

SWEET JESUS!!!!!!

"Felix?"  Ron called, inching over to the bag.  Oh, man, what had he done?  
He had wanted Felix out of the picture, sure, but he hadn't want to hurt his 
roommate.  How was he going to explain this to Andrea?  To their boss?  To 
Felix's (considerable) family?

Ron tapped the bag like a nervous cat, repeating his friend's name.  The 
purse flipped over, utterly dormant.  Ron nearly jumped ten feet in the air 
when the walkie on his hip went off.  "Ron, are you done in four?"

He nervously grabbed at his radio.  "Uh, yeah, just about."

"Finish up quick; you can leave it a little rough since you're the only one on 
tonight."

"Uh, okay, right, roger that."  Ron quickly gathered up his trash bags and 
stuffed them into the big bin.  Very carefully, he picked the green purse up by 
its carrying strap, holding as far away from his body as possible while 
wheeling the bin out of the theater.  That thing was dangerous!

The girl working the concession stand yelled across the lobby at him.  "Ron, 
you afraid you're gonna get cooties or something from that thing."

Ron shot her a nervous grin.  "Yeah, Cindy, I'm afraid of cooties.  Right.  
No, the bag's empty but it smells like someone peed in it.  I'm just gonna 
stick it in the lost and found."

Passing the lost and found, Ron reconsidered.  This purse was more than 
merely dangerous, it was bloody homicidal; who knows how many people it 
would eat if he just left it lying around?  No, that wouldn't do.  He continued 
outside with the trash, and threw the handbag in the dumpster as well, 
washing his hands of the enchanted object.  It would get crushed up, burned, 
buried in a landfill or some combination of the three, never to menace 
anybody again.

The rest of the evening passed suspiciously quietly.  Ron directed people to 
the bathrooms, swept the floors, and changed the marquee; typical Thursday 
night duties.  Nobody questioned Felix's absence, or even seemed to think 
there was anybody but Ron working the floor at all (at least, they never 
mentioned it; Ron certainly didn't ask).  When he went to swipe his timecard 
at twelve-thirty, Ron didn't see "Felix Madison" on the schedule at all.  The 
bag hadn't just eaten Felix - it had erased him.  Ron shivered as he went to 
change out of his uniform, but froze when he heard a knock on the door.

It was Andrea.

Nervously, Ron opened the door.  "Uh, Andrea, hi..."

Standing on tiptoe, she reached her hands around his neck, bending him over 
slightly and pushing her lips up to his.  "Hi yourself.  You look surprised; 
am I early?  You did say twelve-thirty, right?"

Still reeling from the kiss (and only mildly disappointed that he didn't get a 
chance to savor his first kiss with Andrea), Ron stammered his response.  
"Uh, no...  It's just been a weird night.  A weird night."

"Well, okay then.  You go get changed - a uniform just doesn't turn me on 
unless it includes a gun - and lock up, and I'll be waiting in the car."  Andrea 
gave Ron a quick peck on the lips, released his neck, spun around and 
slinked back to her car.  Settling into the driver's seat, she raised her 
eyebrows and gave her boyfriend (at least, all the evidence suggested Ron 
was her boyfriend) a "well, what are you waiting for?" smile.

Well, what was he waiting for?  As he changed back into street clothes, Ron 
realized that, even if he could be held responsible for erasing Felix (and he 
didn't think he was, really; he had thought that opening the purse would 
cause Felix to find its owner to be irresistible or something like that, if it did 
anything at all.  Ron had never meant to hurt anyone), nobody would ever 
think to accuse him because nobody else knew Felix had ever existed.  
Andrea certainly seemed happy enough.

Satisfied that nobody was hurt (except Felix, and you couldn't hurt someone 
who never existed, right?), Ron got in the car with Andrea and rode back to 
her room in their dorm, where he was very satisfied indeed.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The garbage collectors ground through the city at four a.m., irritating both the 
sleeping and the awake.  The theater was one of their last stops, and wouldn't 
you know it, the dumpster was overloaded again.  A few small items spilled 
to the ground as the men operating the truck emptied the dumpster's contents 
into the back of the big machine.  The trashmen didn't pick them up; it was 
the theater's junk and if the theater didn't load the dumpster right, that wasn't 
their problem.

After they drove to their next stop, a hand reached out of one of the items, a 
green leather purse, and sort of felt around the surrounding ground.  
Evidently satisfied that the ground was flat and relatively ground-like, the 
hand's mate joined it a minute later.  A pair of long, slender arms which the 
purse couldn't possibly have contained in its meager volume stretched out 
behind them, finally terminating in shoulders supporting a head covered with 
rust-colored hair.

Taking a deep breath, Felix realized that he had emerged face-down.  But he 
was out!  Partway out, anyway.  Ever practical, Felix "stood" on his hands, 
lowered himself to the ground - that is to say, maneuvered so that the 
handbag was sitting base-down on the ground with his head and shoulders 
pointing straight in the air - then grabbed the side of the bag with his hands 
and pushed himself up.  It was slow going at first, but it got easier once the 
top of the bag got below his breasts--

Felix's eyes opened wide from their previous closed position, and he almost 
gave himself whiplash as his face moved from its strained, skyward 
orientation to gaping at what pushing the bag down to his waist had revealed.  
Those were not his arms, not his hands, not his fingers, and that was 
certainly not his green dress being held taut by and covering too little of what 
were most positively not his boobs.

"What the hell..."  Felix had only half the sentence when he realized that it 
wasn't his voice, either, quickly clapping his hands over his mouth.  Without 
Felix to hold it down, the bag quickly began sucking him back in, but this 
time it was stopped when it ran into the bottoms of Felix's new bosoms like a 
karate chop.  Felix grabbed the purse's sides again almost before the pain of 
the impact reached his brain.  "Okay, okay," he groaned, the wind partially 
knocked out of him.  "First things first.  I got it."

He pushed again.  The bag didn't want to budge past his waist, but Felix 
would be damned if he let it suck him back in.  The dress's straps dug into 
his shoulders until finally the one on his left snapped.  "Great," he muttered, 
gritting his teeth.  "Not only has this thing turned me into a woman, now it's 
trying to tell me that my hips are too big."  He took a deep breath, clenched 
his jaw, gave the bag one last shove, and he was out.  In fact, the bag seemed 
to forcibly expel him once pushed past the widest part of his hips, although 
he probably hit the wall under his own power.  Felix thought that the popping 
sound had to be a product of his imagination, but it certainly wouldn't have 
been any more ridiculous that the rest of the experience.

Dazed, Felix looked over the tableau.  The handbag sat innocently in front of 
him, some trash swirled in the early morning wind, a clock struck five in the 
distance.  He was awash in upper body pain:  As close as he could tell, he'd 
hit the wall with the back of his head, his shoulders, his rump and his left 
hand; his arms and trapezious muscles felt like he'd been lifting weights for 
hours on end; his breasts felt like...well, he had no idea what his breasts felt 
like, but it wasn't good.

His breasts.  He glanced down; he certainly seemed to have plenty of them, 
but that was compared to having none at all.  This dress certainly seemed 
designed to show them off, too; not only did his cleavage seem impressive, 
but he could feel the material of the dress holding them in position.  He 
looked further.  He still seemed to be long-limbed, but he doubted he would 
still be considered gangly.  He had a good view of his new limbs; the dress 
was sleeveless and cut above the knee, which in his current sitting position 
exposed a whole lot of leg.  His arms were slender, but in a trim, fit way.  
The hands they led to were a bit smaller but they seemed to have slightly 
longer digits, proportionally.  The nails extended just beyond Felix's 
fingertips and were painted green, matching the dress and purse, but the 
polish was coming off.  The watch on his wrist seemed to have stopped at 
four o'clock; maybe it had broken when he hit the wall.  It was a different 
design than he was used to, the face rectangular rather than circular and small 
enough that it must be hell on someone with less-than-perfect vision.  Well, it 
was Swiss junk now, about as useful for telling time as his Medic Alert 
bracelet.  Felix looked at his legs.  They were, he decided, pretty nice.  The 
hose that they were encased in was shredded - probably by the zipper on the 
purse - but they were long, and like his arms had just enough muscle to be 
sexy as hell.  They terminated in feet which all of Felix's experience told him 
weren't big enough to stand on, but they sure did look cute.  One had a shoe 
on and one didn't, and a which glance around the alley didn't reveal the 
missing piece of footwear.  The shoe he could see was green (what a 
surprise!), covered his foot pretty well, and seemed to have an inch-thick 
piece of black rubber glued to the heel.  The other foot was just a foot, with 
the toenails mercifully unpainted.

Felix sat there for an hour or so, dazed and somewhat in shock.  What had 
happened, what he had become, was clearly impossible, but the evidence sat 
before his eyes.  As he sat, he knew he was just delaying the inevitable - he 
needed answers, and the most logical place to start looking was inside that 
purse.

Not daring to reach inside it again, Felix got hold of the strap and pulled it 
toward him.  It was currently behaving like a normal purse, but that didn't 
count for much.  Looking away, he gingerly turned it upside down and then 
shook it with a single quick jerk.  He was awarded with a few objects hitting 
the ground, and he cautiously turned his head back to look at the items he had 
spilled between his shapely new legs.

A keychain, a small mirror, a laminated card, and a folded piece of paper.  
The paper was a vehicle registration for a 1998 Volkswagen Beetle, color 
green, license plate LIMEADE (cute), owner Felicia Ryder.  The laminated 
card was a Massachusetts driver's license, made out to one Felicia A. Ryder 
of Nantucket, with a terrible - but disconcertingly familiar - photograph of an 
auburn-haired girl.  Trembling, Felix picked up the mirror.

No doubt about it; the face he saw in the mirror was the face in the picture.  It 
was still his, sort of - the nose was filed down to a more manageable size, his 
chin had pulled back and the eyebrows were operating at half power, but that 
freckled, green-eyed visage could belong to one of his sisters.  He looked a 
little older than the photograph, but it had probably been taken when this 
Felicia was about sixteen.  The keychain was relatively straightforward - two 
Volkswagen keys, two house keys, what looked like a mailbox key, and a 
white piece of plastic with blue print:  "Sunnyside Condominium 
Association, 15 Westbrook Street", an address just on the other side of the 
school from his dorm.

Gathering these things in his right hand and absently dragging the purse 
behind him, Felix took his first steps in the alien body.  They weren't 
successful; he felt like his body was pinched in two, destroying his balance.  
He tripped over his own feet, and finally took off his remaining shoe.  His 
legs now at least the same length, he stumbled out of the alley and looked at 
the street.  Surely enough, there was a green VW parked three blocks away.

Well, it seemed fairly obvious what was expected, and without any better 
ideas, "Felicia Ryder" got into "her" car and drove "home".

----------------------------------------------------------------

It was seven o'clock when Felix parked what was evidently his car behind 
the gates of the condominiums where he apparently lived now.  He guessed 
he was still a student, based on the books and papers lying on the back seat, 
but he no longer seemed to be living in a dorm.  There was no way he could 
afford the rent here; he'd had to work while living on campus to keep up with 
expenses.  Checking the mailboxes and doorbells by the front door, he found 
"Ryder/Hardy" listed for Unit 2-L.

Felix ran an appreciative eye over the digs when he opened the apartment's 
door.  High ceilings, wall-to-wall carpeting, floor-to-ceiling windows and a 
pretty nice stereo.  He let the door close behind him and stepped past the 
living room, into a short hallway.  He wasn't interested in the bathroom.  The 
second door was shut, and sported a little rainbow-shaped sign with the name 
"Liz" printed on it.  The door at the end had a similar sign (marked "Felicia"), 
and Felix nervously opened the door, dreading what he'd find in there.

But it was just a room, much like his own.  There was a bed, a desk, and a 
bureau.  Some movie posters hung on the walls and a computer sat on the 
desk, along with various textbooks, notebooks, pens, et cetera.  But most 
interesting to Felix was the bed; just seeing it made him realize how tired he 
was.  He was about to drop right onto it when he heard someone enter the 
room behind him and start talking.

"Geez, Felicia, that must have been one heck of a blind date if you're only 
getting in no--"  Felix turned around to look at the girl who was talking to 
him.  She must have just been getting out of bed; she only seemed to be 
wearing an oversized T-shirt and some gray cotton shorts.  Dark hair 
surrounded a friendly face, which took on a look of concern when she saw 
the state the other girl was in.  "Oh my god, you're bleeding."

Felix looked around; there were a few fresh red spots on the carpet, along the 
path he'd walked from the door.  Before he could figure out where they came 
from, the other girl had crossed the room and was looking her over.

"Turn around."  Mindlessly, Felix obeyed, presenting his back to the girl, 
who examined his legs.  "Whew, it's just a scrape.  But what did this guy do 
to you..."  Up close, she could see the bruises forming on Felicia's 
shoulders.  "Ohmigod, did he hit you?  Dammit, I warned you about this; it's 
not that you can't trust foreign guys as a rule, but there's a whole lot of them 
know that nothing long-term's gonna come out of a date and are just looking 
to nail as many Americans as they can while they've got the opportunity.  
Counting coup or some shit like that.  And with a name like Hrothgar...  I 
mean, really, Fee, HROTHGAR?"

While the girl was talking, Felix managed to place her:  Elizabeth Hardy.  
She'd been in a few of his classes last year, fairly pretty, a nice girl (Felix 
had only met her a few times, but he had liked her), and smart (she was pre-
med, if Felix's memory could be trusted), but she hadn't made it to her 
sophomore year because her mom had gotten cancer and Liz had had to go 
home and work full-time.  No way she could afford to live in a place like 
this, even if she had stayed.  What was going on here?

Concerned about the lack of a response, Liz turned her roommate around, 
grabbed her head and made her look into her eyes.  "Can you hear what I'm 
saying?"  Liz noticed a tender spot on the back of Felicia's head as she did 
so.  Not good.

"Ye...Yeah, I can hear you."  I've got no idea who you think you're saying it 
to, Felix thought, but I can hear it.

"Good.  I'm still worried about that bump on your head, though, so let's get 
you changed and into the infirmary.  Okay?"  Felicia nodded, but didn't 
move.  Liz sat on the bed behind her and started to unzip Felicia's dress.  Liz 
caught a whiff of something on Felicia's breath.  "Have you been drinking?  
You've got to be more careful about...THAT SON OF A BITCH!!"  As far 
as Liz was concerned, this blind date was looking like more and more of a 
disaster - Felicia had some nasty purple marks on the bottom of her breasts; 
what was wrong with this guy?

Liz pulled the dress and the shredded hose down to Felicia's feet.  "Now get 
dressed so you can see the doctor, okay?"  Felix nodded, and was grabbing a 
sweatshirt and some shorts from the top of the hamper when he saw 
Elizabeth pick up the purse.  "No!" he yelled.  He turned around to try to stop 
her, but he was dizzy and his center of gravity was off.  Felix ended up just 
falling onto the bed.

"Relax!" Liz said, pulling an object out of the purse.  "It's just your blood 
tester,"  Liz had the device take a sample from Felicia and hugged the bigger 
girl close.  "You're going to be okay.  Now let's get dressed and go to the 
infirmary."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Felix was still sitting on the examining table, hugging his legs as he listened 
to Elizabeth and the nurse-practitioner talk about him in the next room.  
Evidently he was still diabetic; that much at least hadn't changed.  He'd never 
forgotten his insulin before, but what had happened to him certainly qualified 
as good reason for forgetting.  Elizabeth had probably saved whatever sort of 
life he had now.

"Yes, this happened once before; last year.  We were at a frat party, and 
she'd had a couple of sips..."  The funny thing was, that had happened, sort 
of.  He and Ron had been rushing Lambda Pi, and he'd gone into diabetic 
arrest at one of their events.  Felix had had to be rushed to the hospital, and 
decided to stay away from the fraternities after that.  According to Elizabeth's 
account, though, Felix - Felicia - had really started to drag after only one 
drink at the exact same party, and when some of the brothers had started to 
bring her back to one of the rooms to sleep it off, Liz had spotted Felicia's 
Medic Alert bracelet and remembered that insulin shock and intoxication often 
displayed similar symptoms.  Either way, it had been close, and alcohol-
related activity around the school had been a bit more subdued for the rest of 
the year.

Felix jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder.  Liz backed up a step, 
holding up her hands.  "Hey, it's only me.  The nurse says you probably 
don't have a concussion, although to bring you back here if you start to get 
headaches or blurred vision, that sort of thing.  And you're to keep an 
especially careful watch on your insulin for the next few days."

"Good.  Okay.  Thanks."  Felix wasn't sure what to say first.

"Hey, it's what I'm here for."  Elizabeth half-laughed, and then turned 
serious.  "She seems to think you were more scared than anything else; 
Hrothgar roughed you up pretty good, and you had a pretty unique - or, as 
she put it, sheltered - life up till you started school here.  But you'll be okay; 
you'll just have to remember to be more careful from now on."

"Yeah, I guess this is all new to me."  Felix said it without a hint of irony.

"Oh, sure, but you're doing OK."  Elizabeth looked at her watch.  "I don't 
know about you, but I'm starved.  Let's grab some breakfast and see if you 
feel like you're up for classes."

----------------------------------------------------------------

The joke's the same no matter what college cafeteria you go to:  Breakfast is 
the most important meal of the day, because it's the only one that's 
consistently edible.  Felix collected three pancakes, some bacon, orange juice 
and chocolate milk, then grabbed a table in the corner with Liz, who just had 
some cornflakes and peach slices.

"I see your adventure hasn't hurt your appetite."

"Hey, whatever happens, ya gotta eat."  Felix grinned embarrassedly at this 
girl his own age who was fussing over him like a mother hen.  "Liz, thanks 
for everything.  I owe you big time."

"With all you've done for me?  I owe you guys.  Just don't do it again, 
okay?"

Well, that was cryptic.  "Fine by me.  But thanks anyway."  He stabbed his 
fork through a few squares of pancake and shoved them in his mouth.

Elizabeth giggled.  "My mom swears that living with you is going to cost me 
all my table manners."

"Hey, I'm hungwy," he said, deliberately talking with his mouth full.

Liz covered her mouth to hold her food in while she choked back laughter.  
"You're bouncing back pretty well."

Felix paused.  "Maybe I am."  He wasn't just referring to a non-existent 
attack by a  horny Norwegian, either.  Aside from his body, the world 
seemed reasonably familiar.  Campus seemed to be laid out the same, the 
same people were eating breakfast in the cafeteria, the alternative rock station 
piped into the room still sucked and the TV newscasters looked to be talking 
about the same issues.  Enough was still the same that Felix felt that he might 
have a reasonable starting point to figure out what was going on.

Elizabeth was another story, though.  She wasn't supposed to be here - she 
hadn't even finished their freshman year.  She had been on Felix like glue 
almost as soon as he'd started to investigate what had happened, and she'd 
reached into that handbag without ill effect.  Felix had plenty of reason to be 
suspicious of Elizabeth, he decided, but she may have saved his life.  
"Yeah," he said, trying to gauge Elizabeth's reaction, "I guess I'm doing 
okay."

"Good."  Liz went back to her cereal.

A couple of guys grabbed seats next to Felix and Liz.  "Well, look what 
we've got here.  I thought you two were too good for us campus-dwellers."  
Felix recognized Bill Johnson and Bert Compton.  He'd been on the same 
floor as Bill and Bert freshman year, but didn't know them that well.  
Evidently they thought differently, or maybe they were friends of Liz's.

"You know how it is, we were banging away first thing in the morning and 
got hungry.  It won't happen again."  If Bill and Bert didn't believe 
Elizabeth's explanation - they might have noted the lack of books or papers 
anywhere near Elizabeth and Felicia, for example - they gave no sign of it.

"I believe it.  You two look like hell."  Bert probably had a point - Felix had 
just crawled in off the street an hour and a half ago and Elizabeth had only 
minimally distanced herself from the no-shower no-coffee hair-all-over-the-
place first-thing-in-the-morning look.

"And he wonders why he's not getting any."

"It's the damned ratio, Bill.  Three men for every woman, no car, not old 
enough to buy booze, and even one so manly as myself is gonna strike out."  
Felix smiled at that.  That had been part of the reason he'd made his move on 
Andrea so quickly, and why he hadn't broken it off months ago:  He knew he 
might not get another chance until after he graduated.  Well, his moldering 
relationship with Andrea wouldn't be a problem now, since she probably 
didn't remember that he'd ever existed.  Felix hoped she was happy, at least.

As if on cue, Ron and Andrea chose that moment to enter the cafeteria, 
giggling and generally looking as if they hadn't gotten much sleep.  
Apparently they didn't remember Felix.

"Oh, for crying out loud," muttered Bill.  "Why don't you save it for the 
weekends like the rest of us?"  The last sentence was just loud enough to be 
heard by the couple.  Ron turned beet-red, and shuffled off to the buffet.

"'The rest of us'?" questioned Liz, looking skeptical.

"Don't go there."

They chatted some more, mostly about classwork.  Felix didn't say much, 
trying to observe as much as he could.  Maybe there'd be a clue as to what 
was going on somewhere.  It wasn't to be, though; all the conversation 
seemed to be ruthlessly ordinary.  Finally, they got up to leave.  Felix felt 
very conscious of his breasts.  The sweatshirt that they were covered by 
seemed to be a size too small, they exerted a rhythmic tug on his chest as he 
walked, and then there was the polite attention given their bouncing by Bill 
and Bert (polite in that they found something else to look at almost as fast as 
he caught them staring).

After leaving the cafeteria, they went their separate ways, Bill and Bert 
returning to their dorm while Felix and Elizabeth went out on the quad.

"So, did the meal do you good?"

"Yeah, but I guess I gave Bill and Bert a pretty good show."

"Hey, we were pressed for time when we got dressed this morning.  Let's 
get back to the apartment and start the day over again."

"Deal."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ron ate breakfast in a daze.  In the past twenty-four hours, he'd bought a 
magic talisman, used it to remove his roommate from existence, nailed said 
roommate's girlfriend (twice), and had been the target of a crack from Bill 
Johnson about how much sex he was getting compared to the rest of the 
guys.  Crazy.

He wished Felix were around to see it.

But what's done is done.  Ron was able to recover enough to give all his 
attention to Andrea and her idea that he spend Thanksgiving at her place.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"You're sure you're going to be all right?"

"I'm a big b-girl, Liz.  They let me vote and everything.  And you're not my 
mother."  That was close.  Interestingly, though, Elizabeth hadn't seemed to 
notice Felix's stutter when naming his sex, although "you're not my mother" 
seemed to raise an eyebrow.  Did this mean she knew what was going on, or 
that she didn't?

"Well, okay.  I'll see you later."  With that, Elizabeth dropped the last book 
into her backpack and went out the door.

Finally!  A chance to do some snooping around.

Felix started in the living room.  Twenty-seven inch television, hooked up to 
a 4-head VCR and a Panasonic DVD player, both connected to a modest 
Technics stereo system.  None of the tapes or discs had giveaway titles like 
"Witchcraft Made Simple" or "How To Distort Reality", but maybe that was 
hoping for too much.  Furniture was college student-chic, a futon and two of 
the biggest beanbags Felix had ever seen (bigger by half than most ordinary 
beanbag seats), all in bright colors that contrasted with the abstract pastel 
print that hung above the futon.  Felix was pleased to see that he evidently 
still kept fish, but gasped when he saw that it was a large, salt-water tank.  
How much money was he swimming in?

There were no messages on the answering machine.  The outgoing message 
was recorded in what he had trouble accepting as his own voice, but sounded 
like him:  It was worded exactly the same as the message on his and Ron's 
machine (except, obviously, for the fact that it was now "Elizabeth and 
Felicia" rather than "Ron and Felix" who weren't in), and spoken in the same 
manner:  A speech coach would have noticed the same pauses, lisions, 
elisions, etc.

Elizabeth's room was a little smaller than his - Felicia's - whoever's, and 
reasonably spartan:  Just a bed, a dresser, a desk (no computer), and some 
books.  Felix felt a little guilty about rooting through Elizabeth's drawers and 
closet (especially when he hit the birth control pills), and found nothing to 
justify his search.  If Liz was anything more than she appeared to be, 
anything other than a hard-working student aspiring to be a doctor, she 
concealed it well.

The bathroom hid nothing out of the ordinary, not counting the female 
toiletries Felix found there.

"Felicia's" room was no different.  It was better appointed than Elizabeth's, 
but it seemed to basically be the sort of room Felix would have if he had more 
money.  Even the schoolbooks corresponded to the classes he was enrolled in 
or had already taken.  He liked the movies whose posters adorned the walls.  
Even the clothes in the dresser seemed relatively sensible - once he got past 
the underwear drawer, there was nothing too terribly girly in there.  Sure, 
some of the shirts were tapered in the belly area, and one or two were 
probably didn't reach down that far, but Felix didn't think he'd be 
embarrassed by most of the shirts, sweaters, shorts, and other items in the 
bureau if he had to stay like this for a while, though he had no interest in the 
skirts in one of the bottom drawers.  There were a few bits of cosmetics and 
some simple jewelry lying on top of the dresser, along with a magnifying 
mirror.  Felix noticed that there was still a piece of jewelry in each his ears; he 
quickly removed the studs and dropped them on top of the dresser.

Now, the closet had some pretty girly stuff.  Not a whole lot; a little black 
party dress, a conservative light blue number, a navy blue pantsuit, a formal 
gown that started out red at the top to match his hair and smoothly darkened 
to black at the ankles, and an empty hanger where the ruined green dress 
would probably go.  There was also a pair of overalls, a windbreaker, an all-
weather coat and a ski jacket hanging in the closet.  There were skis in the 
back of the closet (downhill and cross-country!), along with their attendant 
poles and boots.  Felix didn't see the mind-boggling collection of shoes many 
girls had in their closets; aside from the Nikes he was wearing, there was a 
pair of hiking boots, a pair of black flats and a navy pair who's inch-and-a-
half heels were at least solidly built.  No precarious stilettos here, thank god.  
Various other items either sat in the closet, or under the bed, or elsewhere in 
the room:  A tennis racket, a walkman, an umbrella, a globe, other things; 
none strange or otherworldly.  Having completed a circuit of the room, Felix 
arrived back at the door and the full-length mirror that hung on it.  Only one 
thing left to check.

Moving quickly, before he lost the nerve, Felix lifted his sweatshirt over his 
head, stepped on the backs of his sneakers to pull them off without untying, 
removed his socks, dropped his shorts and pushed his panties to the floor.  
Only then did he remember that there was a window behind him.

Curtains drawn.  Whew.  Felix turned back to the mirror.

The first thought that came into Felix's mind was that the girl in the mirror 
would be incredible if she just did something about her hair.  Felix's hair had 
always been a dull, light red that refused to behave, and that hadn't changed; 
there was just more of it.  Rather than being obedient hair and following the 
law of gravity, it just grew out and formed a bushy layer around his head.  
The result looked goofy, especially with his freckles.

Well, it didn't look like anyone would be saying he looked like Superman's 
Pal, Jimmy Olsen any more, because the body was incredible from the neck 
down.  He didn't seem to have lost much if any of his five feet, nine inches 
in height in the change - an inch or so at most.  Strong, unbowed shoulders 
led to arms which struck a fine balance between strength and beauty, neither 
overtly muscular nor stick-like, and not jiggling when they moved.  Felix's 
breasts would have seemed quite large on a smaller body, and were slightly 
bigger than average even on his tall frame.  They were firm, though, and not 
so large that pressing them together with his arms gave him cleavage up to the 
neck.  The bruises had started to turn good and purple, especially in 
comparison to his otherwise very fair skin, though Felix didn't exactly feel he 
needed an excuse to avoid bikinis.  His torso narrowed below the ribcage, 
but not as drastically as, say, Andrea's did (said ribs weren't as obvious as 
Andrea's, either).  Hips flared as Felix's gaze moved toward the ground, 
forming into the kind of legs that require both good genetic luck and daily 
exercise.  Felix tried to be clinical examining what was between those legs - 
the equipment was different that he was used to, but he seemed to have a full 
complement of everything he remembered from his high school health class 
and his own meager experience, it all seemed to be in the right place, and it all 
responded to his touch.  Several contradictory sensations racked Felix's body 
as he poked around his new sex - arousal, embarrassment, curiosity, 
exhilaration, confusion.  It felt good and almost natural - and completely 
impossible.

Noticing how damp the area (and his hand - gross!) was, he straightened out, 
watching his breasts jiggle, and turned around, looking at his back in the 
mirror.  His shoulders were bruised, but he had a fine pair of shoulder 
blades.  His lower back looked and felt like there was a chunk taken out of it, 
but those were apparently normal female contours that pushed out to a tight 
butt.  His right leg had a pretty ugly-looking scrape right below his right 
cheek - it was still tender - but other than that his legs looked just as nice from 
the back as they did from the front..

Felix, naked, walked slowly across the room and sat down on the bed.  He'd 
always been a levelheaded guy, not prone to panic, so even though he 
realized he should be angry, he wasn't - without someone to be angry at, his 
ire was pretty restrained.  He didn't have enough information to really get 
mad.

Feeling confused, mistreated, and alone were a different story, and it wasn't 
long before Felix was curled up in a ball, crying.  In the back of his mind, he 
didn't think that those feelings would have driven him to tears twenty-four 
hours ago, but given the relative scope of the problem combined with his new 
anatomy (and, presumably, hormones), it didn't seem unreasonable, and 
actually felt pretty good.

After ten minutes, though, he felt pretty cried out, and moved to a sitting 
position.  As he did so, his foot kicked the green handbag over.  Felix 
cringed, wondering what mayhem that would unleash.  When he opened his 
eyes, all that had been unleashed was the corner of something made of fabric.  
Cautiously, he moved his hand toward it and pinched it with his thumb and 
forefinger, then quickly jerked back...

A hanky.  More precisely, a monogrammed ("F.R.") silk handkerchief.  
Feeling embarrassed, he used it to wipe his eyes and blow his nose.  Despite 
its smaller size, his nose certainly seemed to produce the same amount of 
snot.  As he was setting the handkerchief on the corner of the bureau, a 
thought occurred to him.

No question, the bag had attacked him the first time he saw it.  Since then, 
though, it had been as helpful as an inanimate object could be, presuming that 
it wasn't somehow alive.  When he was sitting dazed and confused in the 
alleyway, it had told him how to get "home"; the needle Elizabeth had pulled 
out of it had saved his life; and just as he was finishing a crying jag, it had 
given him a hanky.  To a certain extent, that worried Felix even more - it's 
one thing to deal with a malevolent force, but it's even more disconcerting to 
not know what the other guy wants, especially when the other guy is a few 
scraps of leather.  It's very difficult to read the expression on that particular 
other guy's face.

The condo's air conditioning kicked in, and Felix decided there was no need 
to face his problem naked.  Already at the bureau, he opened the underwear 
drawer and pulled out a bra and panties.

Different colors.  Try again.

Swapping the white panties for a blue pair, he pulled them up his legs.  They 
hugged his body much closer than his male underpants, but weren't 
uncomfortable.  Hopefully they wouldn't ride halfway up his butt.

The bra was a bit trickier.  Felix stuck his arms through the appropriate 
loops, but once they were up to his shoulders, he couldn't pull the material 
over his breasts.  He moved the straps halfway between his shoulders and 
elbows and positioned the cups underneath his breasts, but when he brought 
his arms across his body to position the straps properly, his breasts popped 
out of the cups.  He tried again, this time raising his arms in the air - success! 
- that is, until he tried to fasten the clasp in back.  He finally managed it, but 
the wiggling and contortions necessary left him hanging loose out front 
again.  On the fourth try he finally hit upon the idea of using a mirror.  
Jackpot!  Felix took a few steps around the room, satisfied that his bouncing 
was no longer out of control.

It was late October, but unseasonably warm (there always seemed to be a 
week at the end of October when the temperature reached the high seventies 
or low eighties, but folks still said it was "unseasonably" warm), so Felix 
slipped into a pair of khaki shorts and a Barenaked Ladies T-shirt (so named 
even though all five members of the band were guys, haw haw haw isn't that 
funny?).  He picked up the purse and addressed it, feeling like an idiot.

"Okay, here's the deal.  I don't trust you in any way, shape, or form; you've 
been making nice today, but I've got no way of knowing that you're not just 
trying to lull me into a false sense of security.  Fact of the matter is, though, I 
need answers and can't think of any better source.  So spill."  He turned the 
purse upside down and started shaking it again.  The contents rustled around, 
but nothing fell out.  Felix turned it right-side up, saw that it was, in fact, 
unzipped and unlatched, and turned it upside down again.  He gave it the 
shaking of its life, but still it refused to disgorge its contents.

"Oh, so this is how it's going to be.  I have to trust you."  Felix planned on 
doing nothing of the sort; he sat cross-legged on the floor next to the desk, 
hooking one of its legs with one of his.  He reached into the bag, and pulled 
out...

...a brush.  Okay, his hair was a mess.  But he had other concerns aside from 
his grooming at the moment.

...a roll of breath mints.  Felix glared at the bag, as if to warn it that he didn't 
appreciate sarcasm, reading his mind, or, especially, any combination of the 
two.

...an antiperspirant.  Okay, okay, he got the point - he'd freshen up in a 
minute.

...a book.  A quick thrill raced through Felix's body, until he realized that it 
was just a day-timer, with his schedule of classes taped to the front.  The 
schedule was exactly the same as his had been the day before, except that it 
listed "Felicia Ryder" rather than "Felix Madison" for a name.  Checking the 
clock, Felix realized that he had a quiz in his Statistics class in half an hour.  
While his grades had been good enough that he probably could afford to miss 
it, he didn't know whether or not that had changed last night.  Better go 
anyway.

Felix quickly brushed his hair, or tried to.  He'd never had quite so much 
before, and after ten minutes was content with it not being in his eyes and not 
sticking out like horns anywhere.  He was distressed to feel his nipples 
stiffen as he applied the antiperspirant - Felix didn't recall underarms being 
one of a woman's erogenous zones.  Maybe he was just finding every 
sensation exciting as he felt all them for the "first" time in this new body.  He 
certainly hoped that didn't last.

After slipping some cotton socks and the Nikes back on, Felix then dumped 
his books and notebooks into the L.L. Bean backpack sitting next to the 
desk.  All his class materials were eerily familiar, down to the handwriting.  
In fact, he would have sworn that they were his if not for the name attached, 
and even that looked like he had written it.  Creepy.  Felix still didn't trust the 
handbag out of his sight, but couldn't remember whether or not the girls 
around campus carried both a backpack and a purse at the same time.  
Deciding to play it safe, he crammed the purse into the top of the pack and 
zipped both up.

Felix threw the backpack on his shoulder like he'd done a thousand other 
times, but this time its weight was more than his upper body was built for, 
and the momentum carried the pack back to the floor.  Felix landed on his 
rump with a thud.  Grumbling that the extra cushioning there didn't seem to 
be helping much, he slowly raised himself back up, using the corner of the 
desk for support.  Felix took a few practice steps - his center of gravity had 
seemed to be off before putting on the backpack, and now his balance was 
even further out of whack - and pronounced himself ready to face the world.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ron was confused.  After rushing to get to his Design class after breakfast, 
he couldn't get back into the dorm.  He hadn't noticed last night - hell, he 
hadn't noticed much of anything apart from Andrea last night - but someone 
had apparently switched his keys.  The rest of his keychain seemed to be in 
order - student ID, timecard for the theater, and keys to his parents' house 
back in Illinois, his bike lock, and a locker in the Civil Engineering building - 
but the keys to the dorm and his room within had been replaced with two 
keys he'd never seen before in his life.

He'd been doing a pretty good job of ignoring the effects of what had 
happened last night - nobody else seemed to think anything had changed, and 
his first two classes were exactly the same - but Ron knew it was unlikely 
that some prankster had just stuck two new keys on his chain.  If Felix didn't 
exist, then Felix obviously couldn't be his roommate any more, and thus his 
living arrangements must have changed.  Ron just didn't know what they'd 
changed to.

Ron felt a hand slap him on the back hard enough for him to stumble a couple 
of steps.  "Hey, Ron, didn't see you in the house last night - gettin' some 
mid-week action?"

Ron raised his eyebrows in realization.  Turning around, he confirmed that 
the hand and voice belonged to Randy ("by name and by nature, baby, by 
name and by nature") Lauer, captain of the school's basketball team.  Ron 
only remembered meeting Randy a couple times before, both when he and 
Felix had been pledging Lambda Pi.  It made a bizarre sort of sense, actually 
- no Felix, no incident at the party, no reason to stop rushing the fraternity.  
Evidently Ron had made it in.  Which was something he hadn't been 
expecting at the time.

"Hey, if it's there for the taking..."  By the time they arrived at the house, 
Ron felt like these guys were his best friends.  Which, evidently, they were.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"...so I guess that's why Snapple can be called all-natural even though it's 
only about five percent juice--hey, I thought you said Felicia wasn't going to 
be in class today."  Bill interrupted his rant on how the contents of the bottle 
in his hand tasted like water when Felicia walked into the door of the 
classroom.

"I didn't think she was, but you know how anal Fee is about her work."  Liz 
was pretty surprised to see her roommate entering the room, although Felicia 
had a sort of confused look in her eyes.  She must be running completely on 
autopilot.

"Would it kill her to miss just one quiz?  She's ruining the scale for the rest of 
us."  Bill stopped his mumbling when he, too, noticed the look on Felicia's 
face.  "Hey, what's wrong with her?  I've seen Felicia's 'no sleep in the last 
twenty-four hours' look, and that's not it."

"No, it's not.  I'll tell you later."  Liz raised her voice slightly.  "Hey, Fee, 
over here."

Felicia looked up, startled, shook her head and walked over, taking her 
customary seat between Bill and Liz.  "Um...Sorry about that.  I must be 
completely spacing today, huh?"

"You're entitled to be a bit out of it after what you've been through.  I was 
expecting you to just crash as soon as I was out the door."

"Nah, it's best not to."  Felicia and Liz both looked at Bill as he chimed in.  
"I mean, it's like jet lag; when you stay up clear through the night and then 
don't stay up through the day too, it throws off your sleep cycle, your 
mealtimes, all your biorhythms.  Probably screws up a woman's cycle too, 
but I can't personally vouch for that one."  Felicia and Liz looked skeptical.  
"What?"

Felicia:  "Biorhythms?  I thought they went out of style in the eighties?"

Elizabeth:  "What would a CS major know about a regular sleep cycle?"

"Fine, don't believe me.  I'm just trying to help."  Bill spread his arms and 
lowered his head in a mock-hurt expression.  Before he had a chance to 
expand on the point, Professor Trent entered the room, set up shop at the 
front and launched almost immediately into the day's lecture.

The lecture lasted for about an hour, with the last half hour reserved for the 
quiz.  Felix was a bit worried when he needed nearly the full half hour to 
finish it, when he was usually among the first done.  Granted, he hadn't had 
a chance to study the night before, and he was exhausted, but could 
becoming a girl have diminished his intellect?  He didn't seem to have had 
any trouble following along in class, but it was one more thing to worry 
about.  He also found the idea vaguely distasteful, since he'd never believed 
women were somehow inferior; Felix had always been smart, so the girls 
he'd had classes with had tended to be smart, too, and so he'd always 
regarded his female friends as equals.

Felix hoped that he was just tired; the other alternative led to madness (how 
can you tell if your mental capacity has been diminished?  Any test for 
intelligence is not only subjective, but also can be thrown by any number of 
things affecting the subject at the time of the test).  He handed in his test and 
found Liz and Bill waiting for him at the door, and headed off to lunch.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The trio dropped their bags in the common area around where Bert was 
already sitting, barely stopping on their way to the lunch counter.

"Nice to see you, Bert!  Thanks for saving us a seat, Bert!  I'll gladly sleep 
with you for it, Bert!"  The rest of the group turned around and responded, in 
unison, "Thaaaaaaank you, Bert!"

"Yes, thank you, Bert, but I'm not gonna sleep with you, and I'd wish you'd 
stop asking."  Bill raised his eyebrows a couple of times and turned back 
toward the counter.  Elizabeth and Felix followed until Felix realized he 
didn't have any money in his pockets.  "Hang on, let me grab my wal-"  A 
sigh escaped Felix as he realized where his money likely was.  "-purse."

"No problem, I'll save you a spot in line."

Felix thanked Elizabeth, seeing that just about everyone else was trying to 
grab lunch during the same five minutes.  He unzipped his backpack and 
removed the handbag.  Evidently a look of dread passed across his face, 
because Bert commented on it.  "You're right to be afraid.  The fish sandwich 
is terrible."

Felix sighed.  "It's not the food I'm worried about, it's this thing."

"You're right, it doesn't go with your clothes at all."

"Bite me."  Now Felix remembered why he'd never hung out with Bill and 
Bert much; Bert's sarcasm got old practically before it left his mouth.

"May I?  Please?"  AND he was a complete horn-dog, to the point where it 
was embarrassing to be seen with him.

"Aaaah, no."  Felix shoved the purse under his arm and went to join 
Elizabeth in line, willing to bet that Bert was watching his butt every step of 
the way.  And Bert probably wasn't the only one; as is the case with most 
science and engineering schools, the student population at Anderson 
Polytechnic Institute was three-quarters male.  Even if the bag had spat Felix 
out as an unattractive girl, he'd still be drawing attention because beggars 
can't be choosers.  As it stood now, Felix was sort of pretty (if you like 
freckles), had pretty good curves, seemed to live well, and had no 
discernable boyfriend.  He wondered when the vultures would start 
descending.

"Ahem."  Felix was jolted out of his reverie by the lady at the counter.  He'd 
grabbed his usual two slices of pizza and orange soda without even thinking 
about it.  He reached into his pocket before remembering the purse, and held 
his breath as he poked his hand in to pull out...

...exact change, down to the penny.  Huh.  Felix zipped the purse up and 
stuck it on his tray and walked back toward where Bert was sitting.

Bill fell in step beside Felix.  "You do that on purpose, don't you?"

"Do what?"

"You figure out, before you start your day, exactly what purchases you're 
going to make during the next twenty-four hours, count out the right change, 
and stick it in your purse.  I mean, I have never seen you receive change after 
you pay for something."  Bill nodded his head.  "Yep, that's gotta be what 
you do.  Do you have any idea how nuts that is?"

Felix giggled even while storing that bit of information away.  He seemed to 
be giggling more than usual today, which concerned him.  "Honest, Bill, I 
don't do anything like that.  That pulling out the exact change thing just sort 
of happened."

"Uh-huh, right.  You're the math girl, what are the odds?"

"What are the odds of what?" asked Bert as the others took their seats.

"The odds that Felicia always pulls exact change out of that purse of hers.  
Actually, how do you do that, Fee?  I've been trying to figure that out for 
months."  Elizabeth took a bite out of her grilled cheese and turned her head 
to look at Felicia, chewing as though on her own question.

Felix stopped in mid chew as the others looked at him.  He set his pizza back 
on its paper plate (the flimsy, greasy slice was folded over so that he could 
get more out of a single bite), swallowed mightily and wiped his face with his 
hand.  "You really want to know?"

"Yeah, tell us."  Bert put on his most annoying smile.

"The purse is magical.  I never know what it's going to spit out, but it's been 
pretty helpful lately."

The others laughed.  Bert reached across the table and grabbed the bag, 
snorting.  "Cute, Fee, real cute."  He unzipped the purse and stuck his hand 
in.  "Let's just see if it gives me what I need--hey!"

Felix raised his eyebrows as a look of surprise and pain jumped onto Bert's 
face.  If it were happening again, at least Bert deserved to learn what it was 
like on the other side of the gender barrier.  Bert was able to pull his hand 
back out of the bag, though - along with the sturdy mousetrap that was 
clamped across his fingers.  "Dammit, Felicia, that really hurt!"

He couldn't help it; as soon as Bill and Liz started laughing, Felix lost it 
himself.  Bert indignantly claimed not to see what was so funny for a couple 
of minutes, but was soon chuckling with the rest, as were the people in the 
surrounding areas who were able to see Bert's trapped hand.

Bill looked over at Felicia.  "You are diabolical."

Felix could only smile.  Once again, the bag had come up with exactly what 
was needed.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Andrea Watson had seriously considered skipping Chemistry to study for her 
OS test.  Ron had been insatiable the night before, and she'd had to beg off in 
the morning because she was exhausted, which was unusual.  It's not that 
she was a tramp - or at least she didn't consider herself one.  She enjoyed 
sex, and figured that she was an above-average lover, but she had never 
cheated on a boyfriend, and any reputation she had for putting out on the first 
date was, with one exception, undeserved (and that had been Ron, not some 
one-night stand).

She looked up as Felicia and Bert entered on the other side of the lecture hall.  
Andrea felt a little guilty about not seeing her former roommate very often, 
but they always had moved in different circles, and Andrea had never felt 
comfortable around Felicia.  It wasn't just the money; even though her father 
was richer than God, Felicia never made a big deal about her family's wealth.  
Indeed, Andrea hadn't known about it until Felicia had given her a three-
hundred dollar dress for Christmas.  No, the money was just the straw that 
broke the camel's back.  Felicia was tall, sexy, athletic, never had any trouble 
in class and practically didn't notice the way guys looked at her.  Andrea 
wasn't exactly insecure, but she had to work - hard - for most of what came 
to Felicia naturally, and no amount of hard work would make up the eight 
inches Felicia had on her.  Sure, some guys liked girls petite, but even they 
spotted Felicia first, and after someone saw Felicia, they were looking right 
over Andrea's head.

Andrea's stomach growled.  She would kill for Felicia's metabolism; Fee 
could eat like a guy and then redistribute it perfectly just by running or 
swimming for about twenty minutes, whereas Andrea hadn't eaten lunch two 
days in a row for almost five years in order to maintain her figure.  It usually 
didn't bother her, but she hadn't finished her breakfast...

"Hey, Fee - your old roommate's checking me out."  Bert was misreading 
Andrea's introspective stare completely.

"Who?"

"Andrea Watson, like you've had another.  She wants me."

"She does not."

"Hey, she's looking right at us, and I don't think she's taking you in.  Uh-
uh, she's trying to guess how big Little Bert is- and falling short, I might 
add."

"Geez, Bert...  I think I can pretty much guarantee you that she's got better 
taste than that."  What is wrong with this guy?  Felix wondered.  He 
chuckled to himself.  Doesn't Bert realize there are ladies present?

Happily, Felix was spared any more of Bert talking when the lecture started 
up.  It was pretty simple stuff - Felix had heard most of the lecture in high 
school, but a certain number of basic science courses were required 
regardless of one's major - so his mind was free to wander a little.  He 
wondered about the life "Felicia" and those around her had led.  No-one gave 
any sign that they thought anything was out of the ordinary.  Bill and Bert 
seemed pretty much like what he remembered of them, Elizabeth acted like 
she owed him something and just assumed he knew what it was, and though 
he hadn't talked to Ron, it was clear that he and Andrea were sleeping 
together.  Ron was (or had been) his friend; surely he wouldn't be able to 
have sex with Felix's girlfriend if he remembered what had happened last 
night at the theater.

So why was he sitting next to Bert Compton, of all people?  Bert was an ass, 
and even if there was anyone on campus more likely to try to cop a feel of 
Felix's new anatomy, names weren't jumping into Felix's head.  But Bert 
seemed to think he was a friend, and maybe Felix needed any friend he could 
get, no matter how he came by them.

Oh, the professor's drawing a diagram.  Better get that down.  So.  That's 
Bert; what about Andrea.  Andrea hadn't had a roommate last year (a fact 
which Felix and Andrea had put to good use after they'd been seeing each 
other for a month and a half), or, more accurately, hadn't had a roommate last 
year before last night (that one nearly made Felix's head hurt).  So now 
they'd been roomies instead of lovers.  It seemed odd; as much as Felix liked 
Andrea, he'd never really thought about living with her.  That must have been 
a fun room to decorate - Felix's movie posters and fish tank next to Andrea's 
airy, fabric THINGS that hung down from the ceiling, and the cat that she 
kept despite the dorm's no pets rule (a rule that was enforced about as 
stringently as the no microwave rule after the R.A. saw how cute the kitty 
was).

By the time Felix looked up again, the class was over, and he just had one 
left on the day.  As he stuffed his books in his backpack, pondering over 
extraordinary circumstances gave way to the more conventional question of 
why he had scheduled so many classes on Friday.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Later that afternoon, Andrea gave Ron a peck on the cheek as he left her in 
the computer lab.  He was off to catch a ride to work from one of his 
fraternity brothers.  Though she'd never admit it to him, Andrea was secretly 
glad that her boyfriend's job kept him busy most Friday and Saturday nights.  
While the rest of the school was off playing, she often had the lab nearly to 
herself to get her work done, and could spread it out around her (the 
machines were packed so tightly together as to cause elbows to bump most 
times).  The same places that were open on the weekends were open during 
the week, and going out then felt more genuine, more like something that she 
and Ron were doing because they wanted to be together, rather than being 
swept along with the crowd.  Besides, those were big drinking nights at 
Lambda Pi, and while Ron wasn't quite into the same amount of excess as 
the other members, he was still there and Andrea was usually along.  She 
couldn't take much alcohol with her low body weight, and always had 
terrible hangovers, but didn't want to begrudge Ron the time with his friends, 
especially if he was still spending time with her.

The lab wasn't completely deserted yet, and she heard Bill Johnson and Bert 
Compton whispering from the bank of machines opposite her.

"Bill, what do you mean Felicia was attacked?"

"Shhh!  Don't spread it around; Liz told me when I asked why Fee was 
acting so strange.  Evidently this Hrothgar guy's a real jerk, and hit her a few 
times last night.  Liz says she didn't get in until seven in the morning.  All 
over the place, she was a real wreck.  It seemed to really get to Fee; she even 
forgot her insulin and went into shock."

"Christ."  Andrea felt a wave of guilt wash over, both for listening to this 
evidently private conversation and for her own petty jealousies.  Andrea 
knew that she and Felicia would never really be friends - they didn't have 
much in common - but Fee wasn't responsible for being born smart, rich, 
and beautiful, and this was a rotten thing to happen to anyone.

"Yeah, that about covers it, Bert."

"I mean, there are certain things people aren't supposed to be capable of..."

"I know, but women never seem to go for those of us that realize that."

"C'mon, let's go."

"But we just started this..."  Andrea's eavesdropping was interrupted by a 
sound from her own machine.  Of course the project hadn't compiled...

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Who is it?"

"It's us, Liz.  Can we come up?"  The intercom's distortion made Bill sound 
like a little kid.

Liz looked over at Felicia, who just shrugged her shoulders.  "Sure, why 
not?"  Liz hit the button on the control panel that unlocked the outside door 
for a few seconds, then opened her own.  A minute later Bill and Bert 
approached, bearing gifts.

They were modest gifts; two large pizzas, a couple two-liters and a bag of 
videos.  "We didn't want you two alone and feeling sorry for yourselves," 
explained Bert.

"Exactly.  And if I had to spend another Friday night listening to Bert 
complain that he didn't have a date because all of the women on this campus 
are lesbians--"

"Present company excluded--"

"Although we wouldn't think any less of you and it would be a really cozy 
setup, now that I think of it...  Anyway, we understand why you might not 
want to go out, so we're just here to prevent needless wallowing."  Bill 
paused, looked at Felicia, at Liz, and at Felicia again.  "So what do you say?"

"Sounds good to me.  Fee?"

"I don't imagine I have any other plans.  Whatcha got?"

Bill opened the bag from the video store.  "Well, we got The Fifth Element 
because it looks and sounds so damn cool on your system..."

"And Die Hard because we figure you'll enjoy watching a few pieces of 
Eurotrash get taken down one by one..."

Felix accepted the discs from Bill as he took them from the bag.  "Looking 
good so far."

Elizabeth looked skyward.  "Am I the only girl in this room?"

"...and Cold Comfort Farm as a sop to Liz," finished Bill.

"Oh, gosh, thanks.  You're too kind."

"We aim to please."  Bert let himself into the kitchen to grab some glasses 
and paper plates.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Friday night and people were just pouring in.  Ron had always liked 
Schwarzeneggar flicks, but he didn't see why everyone had to see each new 
one on opening night.  And while it might be a snobby, elitist attitude, Ron 
was becoming convinced that action-movie fans were completely cretinous 
slobs.  It would take a small army of ushers to clean theater 1; unfortunately, 
all that could be spared was Ron, Cindy, and Dave.

Working quickly, Ron and Cindy started picking the big stuff up while Dave 
strapped on a sort of indoor leaf blower and used the compressed air to push 
the spare bits of popcorn and candy to the far end of the slanted floor.  It was 
drudge work, and Ron was moving almost completely on autopilot when his 
eye moved past a green leather handbag.

Cindy ran over when she saw Ron trip and fall over a row of stadium 
seating.  She reached down to help him up.  "Whoa, Ron...  Are you okay?"

Ron dusted his uniform off (absolutely noting stuck to the petroleum-based 
jackets the staff wore).  "Yeah, I'm fine.  I was just surprised by something 
is all."

"Surprised by what?"  Dave finally made his way over.

"Someone I knew had a handbag like that one" - Ron pointed off to his side - 
"once, and I didn't ever expect to see him-uh, her-again."

Cindy looked over her shoulder.  "What handbag?"

Ron looked at the area where he'd pointed.  There was no handbag there, just 
a bright green bag that once had contained eight ounces of Tropical Fruit 
Starbursts.

"Uh...nothing.  Never mind; it's just been a long week."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Considering that her roommate must have been on her thirty-sixth hour 
without sleep, Liz couldn't say she was terribly surprised when Felicia was 
completely out of it halfway through The Fifth Element.  Bill and Bert were 
carrying Felicia to her room (attempts to nudge her awake just long enough to 
walk to bed had been futile) when the phone rang.  Liz jumped off the couch 
and grabbed the portable unit's headset.  "Hello?"

"Hello, Elizabeth."

"Oh, Mister Ryder, hi."  Hearing the name, Bert stopped and looked 
inquisitively at Liz.  Bill didn't, and nearly lost his grip on Felicia's shoulders 
because of it.  After Bert agreed that no, Felicia probably couldn't talk to her 
dad right now, they continued toward her bedroom.

"Good news, Liz - your mother is reacting well to the chemotherapy.  Doctor 
Maxwell says she's likely to make a full recovery."

"That's great!"  Liz covered the mouthpiece of the phone and half-
shouted/half-whispered to Bill and Bert.  "My mom's gonna be okay!"  Bill 
and Bert stopped again, quickly giving Liz a thumbs-up, causing Felicia's 
right shoulder and left leg to drop.  The guys quickly grabbed the wayward 
limbs before they hit the floor.  "Watch it, guys, that doesn't mean it's okay 
to kill her now!"

"Excuse me?"

Liz brought the phone back to her mouth.  "Just telling Bill and Bert not to 
drop your daughter - she's out like a light and they're trying to put her to 
bed."

"I see.  So she can't come to the phone?"

Snrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-kkk!

"Wow.  No, she can't - I mean, Bill has her by the shoulders and Bert's got 
her legs, and she's snoring.  I'm pretty sure she's out until morning."

"Okay.  Tell her I called."

"I will.  Thanks for giving me that update on my mom and just...thanks.  For 
everything."

"She's my only child, Liz.  I can't ever pay you back."

"You've certainly been giving it your best shot.  She's my only mother, you 
know."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Felix's bladder seemed like it was about ready to burst when he woke up.  
He rolled over to swing his legs over the side of the bed and winced in pain 
when they connected with a brick wall.  When he looked down to rub his 
knees, it all came flooding back to him - it hadn't been a dream, he had turned 
into a woman, and more immediately, his bed was oriented differently from 
the one in his dorm room.

Which explained the pressure behind his groin - he'd been afraid to go to the 
bathroom all day yesterday.  It felt like he wasn't going to be able to put it off 
much longer, though - he was primed to blow.

Felix cracked the door, furtively peeking to see if anyone else were in the 
apartment, and then sprinted across the hall to the bathroom.  Once there, he 
dropped his shorts and pulled the panties to his knees, staring at the toilet for 
a moment as if confused.  As if suddenly inspired, he swung his butt around 
to land on the seat, and then just stopped holding back.  As boys, Felix and 
his brother Sam had competed to see who could hold his breath underwater 
for longer.  The release was similar to the first gulp of oxygen after one of 
those contests.

The damp sensation that greeted him when he stood made Felix grimace - 
whose bright idea was it for a woman's eliminatory system to be inside her 
body? - so he rolled up some toilet paper and patted the offending area down, 
looking at it as little as possible.

Felix stopped halfway through pulling his pants up, having gotten a good 
smell of himself.  He had practically emerged into a garbage pile the previous 
morning, and the deodorant he'd applied was wearing off.  Grumbling about 
how much fun this was going to be, he doffed the rest of his clothes and 
stepped into the shower.  He just stood there for a few minutes, self-
consciously silhouetted against the shower curtain, as he attempted to 
decipher the unfamiliar controls.  This shower had a single knob that 
attempted to control everything as opposed to the two knobs in the dorm's 
showers.  This was actually somewhat reassuring; despite the casual 
familiarity with everyone else had with his new circumstances, discrepancies 
in the details made him feel a little more sure that he wasn't the one who was 
nuts.

Felix wasn't sure whether his skin was more sensitive or whether this place 
just had better water pressure and a more reliable hot-water heater than he 
was used to, but the shower felt like an assault at first.  He clumsily adjusted 
the settings - too hot!  too cold!  not even reaching his body!  thrum-thrum-
thrum-thrum! (actually, that felt pretty good on his back...) hey, he wasn't 
taking a bath! - until they were reasonable.  The shower was an 
uncomfortable experience, as Felix tried to gloss over any area that might 
possibly be considered an erogenous zone, without much success.  Felix 
knew that worrying about what was happening just made the situation worse, 
but he couldn't help it - every time his vagina moistened or his nipples 
stiffened in a knee-jerk reflex response, he felt like his own body was 
betraying him.  Except that it wasn't his own body, so he probably had no 
reason to expect any loyalty from it.  The bitch.

He turned the water off (itself an adventure), wrung out his hair, grabbed a 
towel and started drying himself off.  Maybe it would be more uncomfortable 
if there were someone else in the room, but Felix was having a tough time 
conceiving how.  He wrapped the towel around his waist and had his hand 
on the doorknob before his reflection in the mirror reminded him that that 
didn't quite cut it anymore.  Sighing, he repositioned the towel for better 
coverage, picked up the previous day's clothes and headed back toward 
"Felicia's" room.

A glance at the clock-radio told Felix that it was about eight a.m.; he must 
have slept for twelve hours straight.  Well, he hadn't slept for a day and a 
half before that, unless the six hours or so he must have spent inside the bag 
counted.  He wasn't sure it did.  Felix had the impression that he'd only been 
in there for a few minutes, subjectively, and all the sensations from that time 
seemed to be mixed up:  He recalled green smells, high-pitched textures and 
bright sounds.  Strange forces had pulled him in different directions, and 
maybe his brain had just shut down until he'd actually received tactile 
sensations from his hand.  At least, that was the best explanation he could 
come up with.

Felix concentrated on getting dressed, opting for long pants and an extra-
large sweatshirt over his necessarily feminine underthings; the temperature 
had dropped sharply toward the end of the afternoon.  It only took him two 
attempts to get the bra on.  Keep practicing, Felix; you'll have it mastered in 
no time.  He was pretty sure he didn't like that thought.

Staring straight into the mirror, Felix brushed his hair for what must have 
been fifteen minutes.  Eventually, though, he had to admit it looked 
reasonably good.  He tested his blood sugar and administered his insulin, 
paying careful attention to the prescription to make sure that the dose hadn't 
changed with his body.

He walked into the kitchen and checked in the cupboards, but he wasn't 
really hungry, having had more than his fair share of pizza the night before.  
As soon as he put some coffee on, Felix knew that his body's needs had been 
fulfilled, and that he would have to start work on his mind's.  He would have 
to think about the other dream - well, the only one, if he accepted the events 
after finding the green handbag as real.

It had been a variation on a familiar nightmare; he was at the Lambda Pi party 
with Andrea and Ron, only they seemed to be paying him little attention.  
That was more than made up for by Randy Lauer, who seemed to be 
constantly hanging around and showing at least a good imitation of interest in 
him.  He'd handed Felix a drink and then everything got all strange and he 
was in a hospital bed and someone whom Felix didn't recognize from real life 
but who seemed completely familiar in the dream was standing beside him 
and saying how worried he was and who knows what would have happened 
to her if it weren't for Miss Hardy's quick thinking...

It didn't take Felix long to figure out what the dream was; it didn't really even 
require conscious thought.  It was little consolation he remembered this 
version of events as a dream while the other registered as reality.  Still, he 
had overheard most of the story the day before; he very well could have 
pieced it together in his mind just like any other dream.

Sipping his coffee, Felix picked up the phone, deciding to see how far this 
warping of reality extended.  He activated the headset and punched in his 
eleven numbers.  After three rings, someone answered the phone.  In 
Spanish.

"Yes, hello...  May I speak to Mrs. Madison?"

The person on the other end wasted no time in responding with what sounded 
like a memorized phrase.  "Sorry--wrong number."  And promptly hung up.

Felix tried again, dialing each digit carefully.  The same woman answered 
again.  Felix hung up without speaking.

What had happened to his family?

Felix dropped onto the futon, trying to think.  He suddenly realized that he 
was completely alone, except for a group of "friends" he barely knew.  But 
what if they were in on it, whatever "it" was?

Answers.  He needed answers, and he wasn't sure he could trust Elizabeth 
Hardy to give them to him - and if she didn't know the answers, Felix didn't 
really want Liz to think he was crazy.  Half a friend was better than none.

Felix picked up the phone book and looked under any heading that might be 
helpful - there were no listings for Sorcery, of course, and everyone under 
Magicians was probably actually a stage illusionist, but there were listings for 
Fortune Tellers and a Wiccan religious group.  Felix figured there might also 
be leads to be followed up under Alternative Medicine (he'd always suspected 
that herbalists and the like were people who figured themselves blessed with 
supernatural powers trying to sell their delusions to the general public) and a 
couple other headings.  He considered calling them, but decided that showing 
up cold might be the best way to handle it; it would be easier to gauge their 
reactions that way.  Felix had never believed in magic, and still wasn't 
convinced despite the evidence of his own eyes, ears and hands, but, to 
paraphrase Sherlock Holmes, he had to first eliminate the impossible.

Armed with a list of addresses, Felix picked up the car keys and headed out, 
careful the whole time not to wake Liz.  She might be totally blameless, and 
probably needed her rest if she'd made it through all three movies the night 
before.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Liz rubbed her eyes and looked at the alarm clock.  Ten-thirty.  Dear god, 
what had possessed her to stay up and watch three movies?  One is plenty, 
two is more than enough, but three?  That's just excessive.

The apartment was quiet, so Liz figured that Felicia wasn't up yet.  Good; 
she needed her sleep.  Liz stretched out, grabbed a bathrobe, and went to hit 
the shower.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"So, you have come to have Madame Rousseau tell you your future?"

Felix ducked his head around a piece of silk that was hanging from the 
ceiling.  "Maybe.  I was more wondering whether you can tell me about my 
past."

"Is this some kind of test?  I will not accept any sort of test."  The middle-
aged, though still a bit attractive, when the small amount of light in the tiny 
room hit her just right, woman, spat the word out as if it were the most 
terrible insult she could imagine.  "If you feel such a great need for proof, 
then nothing I can tell you will be of any use to you."

"No, no, no..."  Felix sighed.  This wasn't going to be easy.  "I don't need 
proof of your abilities, as such - I need to find out what happened to me 
Thursday night."

"Child, if you cannot remember your own actions, it is probably because you 
were indulging your appetite for the fermented-"

Felix cut the woman off.  "No, that's not it - I remember what I did on 
Thursday night, but everyone else remembers something completely 
different.  I want to know what really happened to me, and how, and why, 
and what I can do about it, but it all seems so impossible...  I was hoping that 
you could help me."

"I can but try.  What do you thing happened?"

Felix sat at the table.  "I was at my job, cleaning theaters up the street, when I 
found this purse."  He set the object on the table.  "I opened it up to see if 
there was anything inside with the owner's name, and then it just sort of 
sucked me in.  I don't know what happened to me, but when I finally got 
out, the stuff in the purse made it seem like it belonged to me, and I looked 
like this."  Felix indicated his body.

"And...what did you look like before?"  A nervousness crept into the 
woman's voice and eyes.

"I was a man!  I had three brothers and two sisters and a girlfriend but now 
all anyone remembers is this and they say I was just on a really bad date and 
that some guy named Hrothgar hit me."  Felix took a deep breath and let it 
out, almost evenly.  "And I never used to cry."

Madame Rousseau sighed, and dropped her affected accent.  "Look, I'm not 
a sorceress or anything.  I own the building, and just do this on the weekends 
to meet people, talk to them, play a part.  It's fun; it keeps me busy.  Some 
people say that you can tell something from the tarot cards or a person's 
palms; and maybe there's something to it.  But you need some help that I 
can't give you."

----------------------------------------------------------------

The entire day had been like that.  Nobody had believed Felix, and several 
had actually given him names of psychologists to call.  He unlocked the door 
and practically fell into the apartment.  Liz looked up from the floor of the 
living room where she was doing some homework.  "Missed you this 
morning.  What were you up to all day?"

"Have you ever spent an entire day shopping and not only couldn't you find 
what you were looking for, but none of the salesmen even think it exists?"

"Can't say that I have, but shopping usually doesn't wear you out like that."

Felix sat down on the couch.  "I wasn't shopping.  I guess I was doing 
research."

"Been there, done that."  She closed her chemistry text and looked up at her 
roommate.  "Find what you were looking for?"

Felix shook his head.  "No.  I guess I've been looking in the wrong place, 
but I'm having trouble thinking of other places to look."

"Can I help?"

Felix sighed.  "No, I've gotta do this on my own."

"Fair enough.  You look like you could use a break, though."  Liz looked at 
the clock.  "The campus pool should be open; why don't we go for a swim?"

I don't think I can count the reasons why not.  "Sounds like fun, but I don't 
know if I feel up to it."

"Are you sure?  You almost never let two days go by without working out."

Really?  Felix had never had the time to really work out before, which 
probably explained his string-bean (male) physique, but he supposed that he 
had that time now.  He supposed that continuing to refuse would make Liz 
suspicious, and Felix couldn't see any good coming of that.  "You've got a 
point there, I guess."

"Okay.  Let me just grab my stuff."

----------------------------------------------------------------

A locker room is a locker room is a locker room, and Felix didn't notice any 
difference between the men's locker room and the one that he found himself 
in.  Not even the cliche of pink versus blue walls held; both were painted 
gray.  The room was simply a mirror image of the room he'd used when he 
took the P.E. classes his freshman year.  He still felt like an invader.

Liz felt no such thing, stripping just as soon as she'd pulled her swimsuit out 
of her gym bag.  Felix found that he still appreciated Elizabeth's trim, healthy 
figure, but that it didn't cause him to react on a gut level the way it would 
have just days before.  Of course, what would I react with?

Liz had pulled her blue suit on and was stuffing her hair into a bathing cap 
when she noticed that Felicia hadn't even started yet.  "Hey, are you awake 
over there?"

"Uh, yeah.  My mind was wandering."  Felix leaned over and started untying 
his sneakers.

"Okay.  I'll see you at the pool."  Putting her towel over her shoulder and 
sandals on her feet, Liz stuffed her gym bag into a locker and slapped a 
combination lock on it, then headed for the door.

Even though Felix figured that Liz had probably seen this body naked 
multiple times - heck, she'd gotten him dressed the previous morning - he 
still wasn't comfortable getting undressed when he was alone in a room, 
much less with a woman in the room (he didn't want to think about having 
another man in the room).  Even by himself, he tried to avoid looking at his 
body.  He removed his shoes, socks, jeans, and panties, but no more, before 
stepping into the swimsuit.  Feeling the suit in place around his hips, he took 
off his watch, sweatshirt and T-shirt and adjusted the suit a little, to give his 
rear a little more coverage.  Reasonably satisfied, he quickly removed his 
brassiere, poked his hands through the one-piece's armholes, and pulled the 
straps up to his shoulders.  He fiddled a little to get one of the shoulder straps 
untwisted and his breasts properly seated.

Felix crammed everything but his towel, bathing cap and lock back into his 
gym bag - he hadn't thought to bring flip-flops, but felt relatively proud of 
remembering to grab a bathing cap, since he'd never had hair long enough to 
necessitate one.  He wasn't exactly comfortable when he walked across the 
room to lock up his bag (which also contained the purse - Felix felt safer 
keeping it close), but the black Speedo swimsuit was at least designed for 
actual swimming, rather than making its wearer look sexy, so jiggle was kept 
to a minimum.  Still, Felix figured that he must be red enough to look 
practically feverish.

Walking out of the locker room, he was temporarily disoriented before 
realizing that the pool was to his left rather than his right, and wound up 
following the chlorine smell.

"You made it!"  Felix looked around before spotting a waving Liz treading 
water in the far lane.  "I was starting to get worried about you.  C'mon, I 
saved you a lane."

Felix walked over to the lane, tensed for wolf whistles that never came; the 
five men in the near lanes were evidently either too intent on their laps or 
didn't find his body impressive enough to merit it.  That thought vaguely 
irritated him:  He didn't want to be worked up for nothing, and he was 
acutely aware of the relatively low number of women on campus compared to 
the number of guys.  The actual reason didn't occur to him until he was 
draping his towel over a bar behind his lane - he was a regular here now, and 
these guys were used to the sight of Felicia in a bathing suit.

Liz had finished her lap and was treading water once again, this time at the 
end of the pool.  "Forgot your sandals again?"

"It's been that kind of day."

"Uh-huh.  I'm beginning to suspect you don't even own a pair, despite 
watching you buy them in August."

"Very funny."  Felix stuck his tongue out at Liz, who responded in kind, and 
perched on the starting block.  He'd never been good enough to get on the 
swim team in high school, though he'd shown up for open pool a couple 
times a month and knew the drill.  He nearly slipped off before he 
remembered to compensate for the new redistribution of his weight, but he 
compensated, pushing himself headfirst into the water.

He felt the his swimcap pop off just as soon as he hit the water.  He surfaced 
and grabbed at the black piece of spandex, grumbling about what a fat lot of 
good it was doing him.  Liz, of course, was laughing.

"Same old Fee.  And here I was, thinking that you were taking so long in the 
locker room to make sure that you got it on right."

"What can I say?  I guess you know me better than I know myself."

"Whatever".  They climbed out of the water, and Felix held still as Liz put the 
cap on his head, pushing front to back to make sure that there were no air 
pockets.  "It's easier to get a good seal when the cap is wet, anyway.  Can 
you remember that?"

Felix smiled - Elizabeth's seemed to be catching.  "Of course I can.  But will 
I?"

"Good point.  I doubt it."  Giggling (it just seemed like the right thing to do), 
they climbed onto their starting blocks and jumped back in.

Swimming was harder for Felix then when he wore a male body.  While his 
female form seemed to be in better shape, and he got an aerodynamic boost 
from his hairless arms and legs along with the slick spandex suit he was 
wearing like a second skin, he still didn't have quite the raw strength he used 
to, he could feel his breasts and butt creating drag, and he was pretty sure that 
he'd have to master the water all over again - the same actions weren't 
delivering quite the same results.  Of course, that assumed he would be a 
woman long enough for him to have to master swimming again, which he 
was hoping to avoid.

After about ten minutes, he and Liz started racing, and Felix decided that the 
claim that women were less competitive than men was bunk.  Elizabeth 
Hardy, at least, gave it her all, making up for Felix's longer, more powerful 
legs with sheer determination.  Granted, a guy probably would have done an 
underwater victory dance after beating Felix four times in a row, but Liz's 
feminine tendency toward caring and nurturing didn't stop her from rubbing 
it in all the way back to the locker room.

"I know I shouldn't be gloating now, and you're not 100% yet, but it just 
feels so good to win once in a while."  Liz removed her cap and hung her 
towel from a peg.  "I mean, I know I'm going to be back to eating your wake 
within a week, so I figure I might as well enjoy this while I can."  She 
walked across the locker room, her wet sandals making slapping noises as 
they hit the floor, to pull a bottle of shampoo and some baby lotion out of her 
gym bag.  Trotting back to the showers, she removed her suit and stuck it on 
the peg next to the towel while Felicia seemed to prolong her cool-down 
stretches.  This wasn't like her; usually Fee was in and out of the locker room 
so fast that Liz suspected her roommate was trying to beat a personal best 
time.  She kept talking, though, switching to yelling as she turned the water 
on.  "Hey, did you forget your shampoo again?  Just grab mine if you did; 
you certainly got your hair wetter than I did."  Liz lathered her hair up and 
stood under the water for a few minutes, just enough to blast the chlorine of 
her skin.

She was already done when she saw Felicia hanging her towel on a peg, 
moving almost in slow motion in removing her swimsuit.  "C'mon, 
slowpoke, get a move-"  She stopped in mid-sentence, embarrassed.  "I'm 
sorry; I should have realized you wouldn't be comfortable getting undressed 
in a room with other people."

Felix turned around with shock, pulling the strap back onto his shoulder.  
"You...you know?"

"Of course I know; I saw it with my own two eyes."  Felix's eyebrows 
raised.  "The bruises; I don't know why I didn't remember them before.  
Folks will see 'em and ask questions, and they're a reminder of what 
Hrothgar did to you."  She lowered her head.  "It's no wonder your 
uncomfortable; I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner."

Oh.  She didn't know.  But it was as good an excuse as any.  "Thanks, Liz...  
I know you didn't mean any harm in it."

"No, I didn't, but I should have realized...  I'm sorry."  Suddenly conscious 
of her own unblemished nudity, Liz took her towel and held it to her chest 
with one hand, extending the bottle of shampoo to Felicia with the other.  
"Here.  Get yourself rinsed off; I'll watch the door for you."

Felix felt a pang of conscience for not leveling with Elizabeth, but it would 
have sounded crazy and insulting after she'd been kind enough to make the 
offer.  He thanked her, took the bottle, then walked into the shower and 
pulled the dividing curtains that Liz had ignored.  Liz saw Felicia's swimsuit 
drop to the floor a minute later, and guiltily finished toweling herself.

When Felix emerged from the shower area, he spotted Liz in her underwear, 
using a small blow dryer on her long hair.  Great, one more thing to 
remember.  Liz turned the device off, and started to hand it over.  "I just 
grabbed it when I was putting my stuff in the bag."  She smiled.  "You 
always forget it."

"Nah, you finish up."  Felix removed the lock from the locker; the 
combination, he noticed, was the same as the one he used to lock his street 
clothes up at work.  Retrieving the gym bag, he sat on a bench with his back 
to Liz and dropped the towel to his waist.  He was still struggling with 
latching the bra a few minutes later when he heard the hair dryer stop and felt 
a tug as Liz connected the hooks behind him.

She set the hair dryer onto the bench beside him.  "Traveling the world with 
your dad must have been a fun way to grow up, but I guess his home 
schooling was a little deficient in some areas."

Felix turned his head and smiled.  "Yeah, there's a few things my dad 
couldn't teach me.  Life's been an adventure lately."

"Beats being bored, at least."  Felicia tied her shoelaces and zipped up her 
bag.  "I'll wait for you outside."

"Thanks."  Felix had to admit that he wasn't feeling terribly self-conscious 
around Liz anymore, but the privacy was still welcome.  He didn't know 
what he would have done if some other girl had come into the locker room 
while they were using it.

Once he'd gotten dressed, dried, and packed, he headed into the hall to meet 
up with Liz to head back to the apartment.  If he wanted to keep his grades up 
as well as become a man again, he still had a lot of homework to do, and he 
hadn't made a whole lot of progress on either yet.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Felix dreamed again that night.  The dreams were disjointed, jumping around 
in time and place seemingly random.  In one he was twelve years old, playing 
tag with a boy his own age in the glassed-in roof garden of a shiny new 
Manhattan hotel.  In the next he was sixteen, kissing a boy for the first time 
under the watchful eyes of the gargoyles of Notre Dame in Paris.  Later he 
was eight, politely thanking one of his father's business associates for the 
pretty pink dress, even though he was much more interested in the electric 
train that daddy had bought for him.  Then he was fourteen, visiting a 
dinosaur dig in Wyoming with his father, and seventeen, standing on-site as 
the newest, most powerful earth-based telescope was dedicated while dad 
made sure the nearby grad students understood that even if sixteen was the 
age of consent in the state, they still were to limit their interaction with his 
daughter to discussing astronomy.

Felix awoke in a cold sweat.  Bits of Felicia's life were sneaking into his 
subconscious, and though there was a certain voyeuristic thrill in observing 
it, how long would it be before his own life seemed like the dream?  Would 
he stop being Felix, even to himself?

He had other theories, though.  Maybe his mind had somehow been 
transported into a parallel universe, perhaps switching places with that of 
Felicia Ryder.  Was she stuck in his body in his universe, thoroughly 
grossed out by her own new equipment?  Maybe these dreams could lead to 
communication  Or maybe they weren't sinister in another way; maybe 
someone was trying to help him, and the information he needed was in those 
dreams, and he just couldn't recognize it.  Whatever it was, he could hardly 
stop dreaming unless he also stopped sleeping, and that just wasn't possible.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The meanings of Ron's dreams were not as difficult to decipher.  He would 
find himself in a courtroom, accused of transporting a purse across state lines 
with malicious intent, with the prosecutor railing that the only reason he was 
not standing trial for murder was because the police could not find a body.  
But then he would be making passionate love to Andrea, who begged him to 
satisfy her as no-one else ever had and howled with delight when he did just 
that.  After a while Andrea became Felix's eight-year-old sister Cassandra, 
who kept hitting him and wanted to know what had happened to her big 
brother.  His fraternity brothers would rescue him, saying they were glad he 
had finally stood up for himself and gone after what he wanted, while his 
father looked on, as if disappointed, turning to smiles as he posed with his 
son for pictures at Ron and Andrea's wedding.

Ron didn't remember his dreams clearly like Felix did; he simply had a vague 
sense that something was wrong when he awoke.  He walked into the 
bathroom and threw up, but attributed it to the four beers he'd drank the 
previous night.

Oh yes, thought an old man who was preparing to open his shop for the day, 
there would be plenty of time for Ron to be unnerved later.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Liz threw the cordless telephone headset across the room; Felix was barely 
able to catch it.  "Your dad."

Felix had been dreading this day.  This man figured prominently in his 
dreams almost every night, and seemed to call nearly as often.  After hearing 
that he'd called when he had zonked out in front of the TV six days ago, 
Felix had started keeping late hours at the campus library and others around 
town, doing some schoolwork but mostly trying to research the occult, 
sorcery, or anything that might explain what had happened to him, as well as 
background on his new life.  The only magic he'd discovered was making his 
time disappear.  "Ummm...hi."

"Hello to you too, Felicia.  You seem to be keeping yourself pretty busy."

"Well, you know how it is.  Gotta work to make the grade here.  You've 
gotta be pretty busy too."

"Oh, I am, but Poland is incredible.  It's amazing how completely the country 
has bounced back from the Cold War."

(Felicia had been home-schooled, if one can be home-schooled with the 
Ryders' nomadic lifestyle.  Paul Ryder was a builder, perhaps the best in the 
world.  Skilled at both the engineering and management skills necessary to 
get a large, complicated building up ahead of time and under budget, he was 
also one of the best-paid.  He always worked on-site personally, and had 
taken his daughter with him to every one.  Right now he was building a 
museum in Krakow.)

"Sounds exciting; I wish I was able to see it."  (Felix had checked; there was 
no visa for Poland on Felicia's well-worn passport)

"We should be finishing up right around Christmas, so you should have a 
chance to see it then.  But, anyway, I called to talk about Thanksgiving.  I've 
talked with the boss--" Felix could practically hear him smirking.  "--and I 
should be able to spend that out on Nantucket."

"That's...great.  The museum won't fall behind without you there to 
supervise?"

"The local crew can handle it for a couple days.  But it would just be wrong 
to be abroad on Thanksgiving.  And I miss you; I don't think I ever went 
more than a week without seeing you before you went off to school."

No, Felix supposed he hadn't.  One particularly nasty detail Felix had found 
in his research was that Felicia's birthday, while a week later than his, did 
coincide with the day that Angela Hanson-Ryder died.  Probably to the 
minute, actually.

But to spend Thanksgiving with this guy?  Thanksgiving, more so even than 
Christmas, was a time to be spent with family - his brothers and sisters and 
parents and grandparents and aunts and unless and too many cousins to 
count.  To spend it alone, with this stranger...

"I don't know, I'd sort of been planning to study straight through..."

"Give me that."  Liz grabbed the phone out of Felix's hand; he hadn't even 
noticed her walking up beside him.  "Hi, Mr. R.  Pay no attention to Fee, 
she's talking crazy.  Of course she'll be home for Thanksgiving.  She just 
had a really bad blind date a week ago--"

"LIZ!!"  Not only was Felix none to eager to talk to some guy who thought 
he was his father about boys - the horror! - but he hadn't had that dream yet 
(and wasn't sure he wanted to experience it).

"Oh, no, she's fine, although she's been buried underneath her work since 
then....Me?  I'll be catching the bus for home Wednesday 
afternoon...Thanks for the offer, but my family sort of expects me 
there...What do you mean my mom's gonna be there?"  Liz brought the 
phone down to her chest and gave her roommate a deadpan expression.  
"Sometimes your dad is scary."  She brought the receiver back up to her 
mouth.  "Well, I guess I'll be heading out with Felicia, then...But let me tell 
you, I am expecting incredible food....Yeah, I guess that would count as 
incredible; are you actually getting Indians to cook it?  No, that was not a 
suggestion...Well, I guess I'll see you then...Okay, here's Felicia again."

Felix looked at Liz.  "I'll get you for this."

"I'm sure you will.  Now talk to the man."

Nothing to do but take Elizabeth's advice.  "Hi again...Yeah, she is 
that...Knock it off, she just clobbered me at tennis; I don't think her ego 
needs to be fed any more tonight."

"Yes it does!  My ego is always hungry!"

"Oh, that's charming."  Felix heard a yawn at the other end of the line.  
"Hey, are you tired--of course you are; it must be two in the morning over 
there.  Get some sleep."

"Probably a good idea; just hadn't heard from you in a while.  I love you."

"Hey, right back atcha."  The line clicked dead, and Felix decided that he'd 
survived just fine.  If he couldn't have his real family, this dad seemed to be a 
pretty good guy, at least.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Andrea hadn't studied much the night before, despite not getting a lot of 
sleep.  She'd had date with Ron the previous night, and it was one of the 
least enjoyable in recent memory.  He'd been late in meeting her, and when 
he did it looked as if he hadn't shaved in two days or paid much other 
attention to his appearance.  He'd ordered two beers with dinner, and then 
just picked at his food.  It was "nothing", of course, when she asked him 
what was wrong, but he'd come up short when it came time to settle up the 
check.  Andrea hadn't minded splitting the bill, but it was unusual - Ron was 
usually too much of a gentleman to allow her to do so.  And she'd had to 
initiate everything - every bit of conversation, every choice of where to go, 
everything - and he'd almost seemed relieved when she'd told him that she 
was just going to go home and study by herself, which was most unlike Ron.

She was still poring over her notes as she was entering the classroom when 
she walked straight into Bill Johnson's back.  "Oh!  I'm so sorry, I was 
woolgathering, not looking where I was going."

"Woolgathering.  Don't hear that every day."

"Oh, it's something my grandmother used to say."

"It's cute.  Besides, it's the most action I've had all year."

"Really?  Good looking guy like you, hanging around with Elizabeth and 
Felicia all the time?"

Ron fell into step along side her.  "Aaah, that's the rub.  I hand out with them 
all the time, so we're 'just good friends'.  It would be, and I believe I'm 
quoting Liz exactly here, 'like sleeping with your brother.'"

Andrea laughed.  "That's so true!  I mean it's terrible.  How's Felicia?"

Ron stopped, surprised at the abruptness of the question, which seemed to 
leave Andrea flustered.  "What do you mean?"

"I heard you and Bert talking a couple of weeks ago.  I wasn't trying to 
listen..."  Andrea stared at her feet.  "Look, I know Felicia and I aren't 
exactly great friends, but that's a lousy thing to happen to anyone."

"Well, she's been acting sort of creeped out for the last couple of weeks, but 
she's getting better."

"Good.  Will you tell her I asked about her?"

"Sure.  Looks like we can't delay this test any longer."

"I guess not.  Nice talking to you, though."  Well, there was the last-minute 
cram time shot.  But it did make Andrea feel better to hear that Felicia was 
bouncing back.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"You wanted to see me?"

The theater manager motioned Ron to a chair.  "Yes, I did.  Ronald, are you 
working too many hours here?  I know from past experience that balancing 
school and a job can stretch someone your age pretty thin, and I wanted to 
know how you were doing."

Ron started to fidget.  "No, I'm fine.  Why do you ask?"

"I'll be frank - the quality of your work has been steadily dropping for the 
past two and a half weeks.  You've been showing up late, walking around 
like you were asleep on your feet, and behaving in a generally erratic manner.  
You snapped at a customer earlier tonight who asked which screen the 
Stallone film was playing on-"

Ron started to protest.  "That was one goober who wouldn't read the sign 
right in front of him--"

"He was the district manager.  I managed to talk him out of firing you 
immediately, but I'm putting you on notice.  One more screwup..."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Felix slid the razor up his thigh, removing the last of the stubble from his 
legs.  It was late in the afternoon, but Felix was finding it useful to take care 
of these things whenever the opportunity presented itself, and a post-run soak 
seemed as good a time as any for this particular task.

Felix told himself that he wasn't trying to make himself attractive for men-for 
other men.  It was self-defense, more than anything else.  Bert, like the 
complete ass he was most of the time, had managed to clue half the campus 
into what Hrothgar Petersen had done to Felicia Ryder.  The constant, 
condescending pity had been more than he could stand, and a show of 
strength seemed to be the only way to get everyone off his back.  So Felicia 
had to convince the world that she had bounced back, survived and emerged 
stronger and more confident.  And that meant, in part, being presentable in 
public.

The most troubling aspect, since word had gotten out, was that Petersen 
hadn't denied anything.  In fact, Bill had said that amongst friends, Hrothgar 
had bragged about "squeezing her tits hard enough to bruise."  But Felix 
knew what had really caused those bruises.

Or did he?

Alternate theory:  Felicia Hardy gets set up on a blind date, which is a 
complete disaster, actually culminating in physical assault.  An event so 
miserable, that her mind tried to rebuild her life in such a way as to preclude 
the very possibility:  Felix had never been alone; he had had more family than 
you could shake a stick at and had lived in the same town all his life, long 
enough to build bunches of strong friendships, whereas Felicia had always 
only had her father to rely on.  Where Felicia was rich and attractive, a perfect 
target for any male predator, Felix was middle-class and nondescript, and 
male himself.  Felix had both a trusted girlfriend and a job that would have 
kept him from dating as much.  And while the best friend Felicia could ever 
have had always kept an eye out for her and warned her about Hrothgar 
specifically, Liz had barely existed in Felix's life, never giving him good 
advice which he/she ignored despite all she had ever done for him/her.

Felix (and Felicia, for that matter), was no psychologist, but such a complete, 
rapid manifestation of an alternate personality had to be incredibly rare.  Felix 
was mathematician enough to realize that the other explanation, that he had 
somehow been supernaturally transformed from Felix Madison to Felicia 
Hardy, was built on top of theories that he was unable to prove:  All his 
research into the possibility magic had come up empty, he couldn't find any 
traces that Felix had ever existed, and he couldn't find any holes in Felicia's 
history.

And even if he had been changed, would it be possible to change back?  He 
certainly didn't have the expertise, even if whatever spell had altered his 
universe so drastically could be reversed.  Like it or not, he was probably 
suck like this, and while he continued to look for any sort of information on 
how he could return to his old familiar life, Felix had to admit that Felicia's 
life did have a lot to like about it.

Elizabeth's knock on the bathroom door interrupted Felix's (Felicia's?) 
reverie.  He dropped most of his body below the waterline as Liz poked her 
head into the room, belatedly realizing the silliness of the action - most of the 
bubbles were long gone.

"Just checking to see if you're awake in here.  Bill's going to be over to 
study Stats with us in half an hour, so you should probably get decent before 
then."

"I'm almost done.  I just got to thinking about something, and my mind kind 
of wandered."

"Gotcha.  Make it quick; it's you're turn to handle the snacks."

Felix started the tub draining as soon as Liz shut the door.  As soon as he'd 
dried off, he crossed the hall to his room, plugged in the blow dryer and 
started to work on his now shoulder-length hair (aside from looking better, 
the extra weight actually made it easier for him to manage, since it put gravity 
on his side).  Over the past three weeks, he'd started to get the hang of this 
female grooming thing; he'd even started using some light makeup to tone 
down his freckles.  Not that night, though - Bill had become a fairly good 
friend, and there was no need to present a false face to him, aside from the 
one he couldn't remove.

Satisfied with how he looked in his sweatshirt and jeans - it would be 
Thanksgiving in three days, and the temperature was starting to approach 
chilly - he only had to get some snacks.  Fortunately, there was a Wings N 
Things menu in his purse, and they had no problem delivering a study platter 
in fifteen minutes.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ron walked away from the theater calmly, but as soon as he was out of line-
of-sight he punched a brick wall hard enough it was a wonder he didn't break 
his hand.  Fired!  Just because he was ten minutes late, and that SOB regional 
manager was there, and he couldn't explain what had him so preoccupied 
without sounding like a complete lunatic.

Trying to find a bright side, he figured maybe he could use his new free time 
to put more effort into propping up his sagging grades.  Of course, with 
school, fraternity dues, Andrea, and everything else, he probably couldn't 
afford to have that new free time for long.  Dammit, why did this have to 
happen now?  Didn't he have enough on his plate?

His immediate rage spent, Ron started to feel the pain from his swollen hand.  
He figured he might as well go back to the house, but stopped at a pay phone 
to call a number scribbled on a sheet of paper in his wallet.  He decided that 
there were a couple of stops he had to make first.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure there's no-one else?"

"I'm afraid so, Liz - the guy who was just got called in to work because 
someone got fired on the spot, and we can't reach anyone else.  I know 
you've probably got tests tomorrow but..."

Liz gave in, hung up the phone, and walked back into the living room.  
"Gotta bail, I'm afraid.  The man who usually volunteers at the senior center 
Monday nights had to go to his paying job, and they couldn't reach anyone 
else.  So I'm outta here for until about ten-thirty."

Bill's eyebrows raised.  "Bummer.  Are you going to be ready for the test 
tomorrow?"

Liz snapped her fingers and pointed at her roommate.  "Can you review it 
with me when I get home or tomorrow morning?"

"Sure I will.  I mean, that's why you keep the math major around, right?"  
Elizabeth chuckled at Felicia's joke, and thanked her.

Bill couldn't help but notice Felicia tense up after Liz had left.  He ignored it 
for a while, until he realized that this was probably the first time she and a 
man had been alone in a room since that night.  "Look, if you're 
uncomfortable-"

"No, I'm okay."  As if to prove the point she picked her books up and 
plopped them back down, right beside him.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ron looked like death warmed over when Andrea let him into her dorm 
room.  Asking if he was all right seemed ridiculous, but she had to start 
somewhere.

"No, I'm not all right.  I want to be an engineer but I can't even keep my shit 
together well enough to hold down a job in a movie theater."

Ron's eyes were glazed, but Andrea couldn't smell any alcohol on his breath.  
The reaction seemed a little extreme for losing a part time job, but there was 
probably something more than that; Ron had been acting on edge for the 
previous two weeks.  Andrea sat her boyfriend down in a chair.  "C'mon.  
Tell me all about it."

----------------------------------------------------------------

It could have been the most embarrassing moment of Bill's life.  Two 
minutes earlier, and nothing would have happened, but Felicia was sitting in 
front of a picture window, the setting sun seeming to radiate from behind her, 
backlighting her red hair, giving it almost a fiery quality.  Bill didn't think 
Felicia had ever looked more beautiful than she did in that second, and when 
she'd reached past him for another piece of chicken, her arm had brushed 
across his lap, lightly bumping his erection.

Bill had turned crimson, and Felicia's face became nearly as red as her hair 
had looked.  Instead of making embarrassed noises, though, she removed her 
sweatshirt, took Bill's right hand, and softly touched it to her left breast.  
Even through the T-shirt and bra, he could feel that the nipple was erect.

Felix stumbled to find the right words.  "It wasn't just when I felt your..."  
He stopped; that wasn't right.  "I've wanted you to touch me all evening...  
No-one has made me feel that way since everything started..."

Slowly, their heads moved closer together until, finally, they kissed, and 
kissed again.  It seemed like the right thing to do.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ron and Andrea's kiss started out as her simply comforting him, but he had 
become aroused, and pulled her closer, and she had responded to Ron's 
rediscovered desire, until what had started out as a quick peck of compassion 
had grown into a lusty embrace with the intertwined pair covering the short 
distance to Andrea's bed as quickly as they could with their eyes closed.

Andrea had to come up for air.  "You know that this won't make your 
problems go away."

"Maybe not.  But right now, I can't remember what they are."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Bill kissed every inch of Felicia's body, from top to bottom and back up 
again, working around the panties she didn't remove and the bra that did 
come off during the return pass.  He now knew what he'd always suspected - 
Felicia had magnificent breasts, full and firm and just the right size for her 
frame.  Her entire body screamed of good health, just as she howled in joy 
when he traced the line between her neck and shoulders with his tough while 
using his fingers to draw patterns on her back.

Neither actually saw what was between the other's legs - although the 
plentiful nerve endings in the area released waves of pleasure after Bill 
flawlessly guided his equipment in, as he said, "flying on instruments".  A 
kiss to the bottom of the chin had distracted Felicia while Bill had applied the 
condom which she'd pulled from her purse without even looking, the better 
to avoid breaking the mood.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Andrea lay flat on her back, her clothes forgotten on the floor, her legs curled 
around Ron's, just playing with him.  He would bend over to try to kiss her, 
and she would dart her head in under his, nipping at Ron's chest hair.  Why 
some women found smooth chests sexy was quite beyond her at the moment.

One thing Ron had found out the first time he and Andrea had made love was 
that tough Andrea may look small and demure, she had the strength and 
speed of a gymnast.  So it was not exactly a surprise to Ron that when she 
tired of that game, Andrea was somehow able to spin them and reverse their 
positions, with him flat on his back and her straddling his groin, carefully 
guiding him insider her.  He was about to climax when in a single unreal 
moment her rapid breathing stopped.  Ron saw Andrea look down at him and 
calmly speak, in Felix's voice.

"So, is she worth killing for?"

Ron did the only sensible thing.  He screamed, ejaculated, and passed out.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Bill kissed Felicia, basking in the afterglow.  "So, are you going to review 
that with Elizabeth?"

Felicia chuckled.  "No, I don't think so.  I needed it, though.  Maybe not 
that, specifically, but I needed to feel safe with a man, as a woman, if that 
makes any sense."

"It makes perfect sense."  He squeezed her, and kissed her again as studied 
her face.  "But this isn't the start of something bigger, is it?"

"No, I don't think so."  This time she kissed him.  "But it was still very 
important, and good, and perfect - I couldn't have done it if I didn't know I 
could trust you."

Bill laughed.  "That's okay.  This is the first time that being 'such a good 
friend' has actually made it possible to get laid."

Felicia laughed, disentangling herself from Bill's arm.  "Yeah, how about 
that?"  She started picking up her clothes and putting them back on.

Bill spotted the clock out of the corner of his eye.  Ten o'clock; Liz would be 
back in half an hour.  He put his own clothes back on.  "I don't really want to 
run, but Liz is going to be back really soon.  Um...  I don't have many 
classes in the morning tomorrow; maybe we can get back together and pick 
up where we left off...studying."

"Okay - but just studying.  Liz'll be there too."

"Well, in that case, are you sure you just want to study?  Maybe the three of 
us..."

"Bill!"

He held up his hands.  "You're right.  Too far.  See you tomorrow then?"

"Sure.  'Bye."

"'Bye."  Bill walked out the door.

Felicia looked at the floor.  What a mess.  That damp spot would have to 
come out, and before Liz got back.  She got some carpet cleaner from the 
bathroom and went to work.

Nothing had really changed for Felicia during the evening.  The memories of 
her life still seemed like a sequence of barely connected dreams, as opposed 
to how she remembered being Felix.  But she had just made love to a man, 
and enjoyed it; it had felt right, and good, and natural.  She didn't feel like a 
victim any more.  It was time to face the world as herself, without shame, 
because she had nothing to be ashamed of, no reason to pretend to be 
someone else.  What had happened to her was Hrothgar's fault, not hers, and 
she was damned if she was going to feel guilty.

Felicia smiled.  Maybe she would heal faster, now that she'd accepted the 
truth:  Felix Madison didn't exist, and never had.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Andrea sat in her nightgown and just looked at Ron.  On a better night, she'd 
joke about men falling asleep after sex, but now she was only concerned.  
Ron had grown more and more tense over the last month, and Andrea had 
been honestly concerned that he may have suffered a heart attack when he had 
screamed.  However, he seemed to be sleeping soundly; all the tension had 
drained out of him when he passed out.  For now.

Ron twitched when Andrea ran her fingers through her hair, as if her touch 
had burned him.  She withdrew her hand and pulled herself into a tight ball.  
It wasn't fair.  There'd never been anyone like Ron, and everything had been 
so perfect - he was even going to meet her family over the weekend.  Why 
had he self-destructed?  Was it something she had said or done?

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, you didn't lead me astray.  This food is incredible."

Anna Hardy agreed with her daughter.  "It is just impeccable.  You said you 
bought it all locally, Paul?"

"Yes, it's all fresh.  In fact, the cranberries come from a bog tucked away in a 
corner of this property."

Elizabeth slowed her chewing down, as if pondering the information.  "Yes, 
I do think you can tell.  Course, it just looks funny to me.  The shape's all 
wrong."  She leaned over to whisper to Felicia.  "See, we usually had canned 
cranberry sauce for thanksgiving, so I expect to be grabbing slices off this 
cylinder of purple jello."

Felicia wrinkled her nose.  "C'mon, Liz, I haven't been that sheltered."

"Just checking.  Now eat up; I think I saw folks picking the cocoa beans for 
the chocolate cream pie last night, and I'd hate for there to be any ingredients 
more than twelve hours old when we get to that."

Eventually they finished dinner (and, yes, pie).  It seemed strange to Anna 
and Elizabeth to just leave the dishes for the housekeepers to clean up later, 
but it gave her a chance to talk with her mom while Felicia talked with her 
father.

"Why are we here, mom?  Neither Felicia or her dad have ever been prone 
toward flashing their wallets around."

Anna chuckled.  "It's Thanksgiving, dear.  In case you forgot, you saved his 
only child's life last year."

"That again."  Liz looked skyward.  "Not that I don't understand he'd be 
grateful, but he's already paying my tuition all the way through medical 
school, putting me up in a very nice apartment, and paying for your 
treatment.  It's getting embarrassing; mom.  Fee probably would have been 
my best friend anyway, but sometimes I feel like I've got to do something 
else, and sometimes I even feel a little bit like I'm doing a job.  It would be a 
job I'd love, but it just sometimes seems like there's someone else in the 
room."

Anna hugged her daughter.  "That just means you're a good person who 
doesn't does the right thing for its own sake, rather than out of any hope of a 
reward.  Paul raves about how wonderful you are every time he calls."

"So it's Paul, is it?  And just how often does he call?"

"Every couple of days or so--"

Elizabeth's eyes bugged.  "Every couple of days?  That's more often than he 
calls Felicia!  You don't think that he..."

"And what if he does?  I may not exactly be a young woman anymore, 
but..."

The conversation degenerated from there.  It was one thing to consider one's 
parents in a social context, or one's friend's parents, but the two of the 
together, possibly liking each other or kissing or touching or even 
eventually...  Ick!

----------------------------------------------------------------

"What is wrong with you?"

Ron couldn't understand why Andrea was yelling.  "What do you mean?  
There's nothing wrong with me."

"There is.  You barely talk to me any more, you always look guilty about 
something, and you go through more alcohol than the rest of the fraternity put 
together.  What are you hiding from me?  Are you seeing someone else?  Is 
that it?"

"No!  Andrea, believe me, everything I've done has been so I can be with 
you.  Everything."

"You've got a funny way of showing it."  Andrea was starting to have 
trouble holding back her tears, and tried to pull everything back like she was 
trying to control a runny nose.  "You scream like you're in pain or fear when 
we make love.  You're already drunk when I come to pick you up after 
school Tuesday, you nitpick my mother's cooking and are surly to the rest of 
my family."

"I can explain...  You don't know the pressure I've been feeling lately."

Andrea almost laughed.  "We're all under pressure, Ron.  You've just got a 
part-time job.  I've got to maintain a B+ average to keep my scholarship or I 
go home, and I've never done that before.  Randy's got basketball, Shauna's 
got such serious asthma that she needs to take an elevator to get to her classes 
on a building's second floor and Mikos can barely speak English.  The 
difference is that other people don't use 'pressure' as an excuse to become 
neglectful assholes."

Ron didn't say anything.

"I'm not going to take this any more, Ron.  I've got too much on my plate to 
deal with your crap, especially if you won't deal with it yourself.  And I 
don't need you to feel good about myself; I'm not the chubby little weird girl 
people saw back in high school anymore.  I brought my grades up, my 
weight down, and developed what self-confidence I've got on my own, and I 
will not let you make me feel like a loser again.

"My brother's in the hallway.  He's going to drive you back to your frat 
house so that me and my family can enjoy our holiday together.  Don't call 
me until you've got your shit back together."

Ron just sat there, stunned, after Andrea left the room.  He couldn't believe 
what had happened.  He'd sacrificed a friend to get Andrea, and now that 
sacrifice would be in vain.  It was unfair; how could it possibly happen?

He felt a nudge on his back; Andrea's brother evidently didn't want to draw 
this out any longer than necessary.  There wasn't much conversation on the 
drive toward the API campus - all Ron could think of was how he'd 
destroyed everyone's lives.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Felicia stood in the doorway of her father's study, watching as he pored over 
a set of blueprints.  She reached inside and knocked on the open door to get 
his attention.  "It's a holiday, Dad.  No work allowed."

"This isn't work.  Work is dealing with contractors, suppliers, and unions.  
I'll probably start building this in Boston next December, but it's still in the 
design phase now.  This is the fun part."

"Looks big."

"No-one hires me for small stuff, kiddo.  But what are you doing up at four 
in the morning?  I'm still on Poland time, so I've got an excuse.  What about 
you?"

"Bad dream."  She fidgeted, not exactly sure how to broach the next subject.  
"There's something I haven't told you about."

Paul Ryder's attention left the blueprints completely.  "I'm listening."

"About a month ago, I went out on a blind date with a guy named Hrothgar 
Petersen.  Big Norwegian guy, plays on the rugby team.  He treated me to 
dinner, we walked around Main Street, went and saw a movie.  The normal 
stuff.  When we got out of the theater, he pulled me into an alley and 
smothered me against a wall.  I told him no, that I didn't put out on the first 
date."  Felicia's father had never been one for euphemisms, and had passed 
that on to his daughter.  "I can't remember exactly what happened next, but 
he threw me against the wall and I blacked out until morning and I forgot my 
insulin and Liz had to bring me to the infirmary..."  Felicia couldn't say 
anymore through her sobbing.  She'd had some idea what must have 
happened, but the dream that had woken her had been strong, and vivid, that 
it seemed like she was experiencing the pain and humiliation for the first time.

Ryder pulled his daughter tight to his chest.  "I'm so sorry.  Why didn't you 
tell me what happened?"

"A whole bunch of reasons.  I-it was all so embarrassing...  I didn't want to 
tell anyone else about had happened to me.  And you were always right 
around the corner for me until I went to college, and then there was Liz, but I 
wanted to prove I could handle my own problems."  A rueful smile appeared 
on Felicia's face.  "Guess I started too big, huh?"

Paul mussed Felicia's hair.  "No, you're doing fine.  You're doing just fine."

"No, I'm not."  She swallowed.  "I still don't feel like myself, and I can't 
remember that whole night, and I still have nightmares.  I sometimes feel like 
I'm losing my mind."

He kissed her on the forehead.  "That would be a tragedy.  I think you're 
doing pretty well, and Liz hasn't seemed concerned, even though she knows 
you better than almost anyone.  But if it makes you feel better, I'll call some 
friends, see if they can recommend a good psychiatrist near the alma mater."

"A shrink..."  Even though she knew it was probably what she needed, 
Felicia wasn't sure that she liked the idea.

"You wouldn't have to ever go see him.  Just keep his card and call him if 
you ever get too overwhelmed.  And you can always call me, no matter what 
time it is wherever either of us is."

"Dad, you know I couldn't do that..."

"Of course you can.  Hell, the team misses having you around."

"Even Sam?"

"Especially Sam.  Says he got so used to having you underfoot that he can't 
remember how to work any other way."

Felicia smiled.  In her dreams, Sam Todhunter always complained about 
having some silly girl on the site.  "Thanks, Dad."

"Any time, kiddo.  Any time."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Felicia's father was right.  Before she and Liz had left to return to campus, 
Paul Ryder managed to get into contact with a fellow API alumnus who had a 
psychiatric practice near their apartment.  A week had gone by, and Felicia 
hadn't called him yet, but just having the number did make her feel more 
comfortable.

Which stood in marked contrast to the shoes she was trying on.  Slender, 
with a pointed toe, and featuring three inch heels of the non-chunky variety, 
they were as far from Felicia's regular footwear as could be.

"Are you sure this is what you're looking for?  I mean, I've gotta believe that 
there's nothing like these things in your closet for a reason."

Felicia looked up at Liz and smiled.  "Your vote of no confidence is noted 
and disputed.  I can't remember the last time I wore a pair of these things, but 
it's like riding a bike.  You never forget once you learn."  Felicia pushed 
herself up off the bench, and nearly through a hundred and eighty degrees of 
arc.  She was able to right herself, though, and stood with her arms crossed 
and a smug look on her face.  "See?  I'm a little rusty, but there's no need to 
get the training wheels out of storage."

Elizabeth grinned.  "Eet leeves, eet leeves!!  But can ze ca-reature valk?"

"That is the worst Igor I have ever heard.  And yes, 'eet can valk'."  To 
prove it, Felicia took a confident stride forward.  Which was a mistake, 
because her foot slipped half out of her shoe in mid-air, causing her to 
stumble when it landed.  Felicia felt herself listing to the right just before she 
went down with a crash that brought two shelves worth of shoes down on 
top of her.

Liz offered her hand.  "Baby steps?"

Felicia smiled her I-refuse-to-give-you-the-satisfaction-of-seeing-me-give-up 
smile.  "Baby steps."

Taking smaller steps didn't help, though.  Felicia would think it was taking 
far too long to get from one end of the aisle to the other and start to move 
more quickly only to find she couldn't brake.  After seeing Felicia land on her 
butt for the fifth time, Liz didn't offer her a hand, but instead simply took the 
shoes off her roommate.  "It's your money, and you can take them home for 
practice if you want, but I'd recommend something a little safer.  For all of 
us.  Why do you want heels, anyway?  It's not like you need to be any 
taller."

Felicia conceded the first point by trying on a pair of flats and took issue with 
the second.  "But I do need to be taller.  The party we're hitting tonight is at a 
real jocky fraternity, and there will probably be a lot of big guys there.  I hate 
looking up to talk to someone; it makes me feel vulnerable.  So if we're going 
to see eye-to-eye, I have to do this."

"I'll pass.  Since I'd need stilts to pull the eye-level thing off--"

"You would not!"

"Well, it would feel that way.  So instead, I'll stay down here below the 
cloud line and let them feel big and impressive and think they're in charge.  
And are you gonna make a decision?"

Felicia stuck her fourth pair on the shelves.  "None of these shoes are 
comfortable.  I mean, I'll bet when they design shoes, men's shoes are 
designed from the inside out and women's from the outside in."

"Says the girl who was just trying on heels.  But don't you want to look 
good?"

"Hey, if someone's looking at me from that perspective, they're probably 
half passed out or something and I really don't care what they think."

"Good point."

Finally, Felicia settled on a pair of shoes and brought it to the counter along 
with the heels ("which I will master!").  A swipe of the credit card, and it was 
on to the next store.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Andrea was returning yet another dress to the rack when she spotted a 
familiar scene playing itself out.  She considered walking the other way, but 
then figured, what the hell?

"So, I see that Felicia still can't remember her sizes."

Liz spun around.  "Andrea, hi!  Yeah, isn't it weird?  Straight-A math major, 
and she can't remember three or four simple numbers."

"That's right, I'm a math major - so if those numbers had any pattern or 
relation to each other, I'd be all over it.  But no-o-o-o."  Andrea and Elizabeth 
laughed.  "How're you doing?  It's been too long."

Andrea could feel herself subconsciously rising up on tiptoe around Felicia, 
and quietly forced her ankles to the floor.  "All right, for the most part.  
Doing pretty well in class, no problems with my family.  Broke up with Ron 
last week."

Liz looked shocked; Felicia less so, since she couldn't remember too much 
about Andrea and Ron being together.  "I can't believe it; you've been 
together practically ever since you got here, or at least that's what Fee tells 
me.  What happened?"

"I don't know.  He just started acting really strange for the last month, and I 
finally told him I wouldn't put up with it.  I dumped him."  The last came out 
in a whisper.  "I expected him to put up more of a fight."

Felicia sensed a desperate need for the subject to change.  "So, what are you 
looking for here?"

It was clumsy, but no-one seemed to mind.  "Looking for an outfit to wear to 
a party across town tonight; figure if I'm the one that ended it, I might as well 
get right back into the game, right?"

Liz snapped her fingers, as if recognizing synchronicity at work.  "I think 
we're going to the same party; why don't you come with us?"

"Oh, I couldn't put you out like that..."

"Hey, we're heading off-campus, venturing into enemy territory.  Strength in 
numbers."

"Besides, I've got to be designated driver anyway--"  not having a drink 
since that Lambda Pi party was one of the few things Felicia remembered 
consistently.  "--so you're not going to be putting anybody out.  Besides, 
I've heard that parties out there get pretty wild; you really might want to be in 
a group."

It didn't take much to talk Andrea into joining them; the folks she otherwise 
would have gone with had given her the cold shoulder all week; evidently the 
way and the timing of how she'd ended her relationship made her a bitch, no 
matter how good her reasons were.  She felt like she'd been rescued.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Bill and Bert waved to Felicia and Liz as they headed out to pick Andrea up.  
"Look at 'em, heading across town just to go to a party."

Bill agreed.  "For no particular occasion.  You know, eventually they're not 
going to appreciate the truly special days."

"Sad."

"Pity it's not as sad as our lives."

"Yup."

"Well, at least Fee's letting us use her living room for movie night."

"Thank God for small favors."

----------------------------------------------------------------

"This is nuts.  Why did we go all the way to the other side of the city just to 
go to a party?"

Somehow, Liz knew this was coming.  "Because you don't want to 
accidentally run into Ron, Felicia doesn't want to accidentally run into 
Hrothgar, and we all need to dance desperately."

Felicia looked at her watch.  Six forty-five was probably a little early to be 
going to a party, but they'd agreed that if they weren't having much fun after 
an hour or two, they'd bail, swing back by the apartment to pick up the guys, 
and go see a movie.  The guys and Andrea's car; no way the five of them 
would fit into the bug.  Still, the guys who'd invited them claimed that no-
one ever left this fraternity's parties before the wee hours of the morning.  
Judging from the catcalls coming from some open windows on the house's 
upper levels, they were lying; who'd put up with that longer than absolutely 
necessary?

At least the guys at the door were nice.  The blond-haired one's mouth came 
politely agape when Felicia handed him her coat, revealing an eye-poppingly 
colorful ensemble:  Her sleeveless blouse was electric blue up top and dark 
red below, making her breasts really stand out despite the fairly high-cut 
neckline; the green, almost knee-length green skirt was tight enough in the 
right places to show off her firm bottom without making her worry about 
accidentally exposing herself; and her yellow pantyhose showed off her long 
legs.  Taken together, the outfit guaranteed that Felicia wouldn't be 
overlooked; the reaction of the man taking coats proved that.  He shook his 
head and looked at his friend.  "And we didn't think to look at API 
becauseÉ?"

Liz and Andrea weren't looking quite as flashy as Felicia.  Elizabeth's natural 
girl-next-door good looks didn't lend themselves to improvement, so she'd 
opted for a little color and a lot of leg; Andrea was almost in street clothes, 
but assured the guys that she could do things on the dance floor in her tight 
designer jeans that would make the girls in skirts green with envy.  The guys 
believed it Ð as the anxiety started to leave her, there was an unconscious 
grace and strength to her movements.

Felicia was halfway across the crowded room when she realized that she was 
still carrying her purse.  Clutching it in her hand, she turned around to make 
her way back to the front, so as to put it with her coat, when the clock on the 
mantle struck seven.  The room seemed to freeze, and suddenly every shape 
in the room seemed to contort into something else.  The only thing in her 
immediate sight that seemed exempt was Elizabeth, but all around her, the 
men transformed into sexy women, while most of the women took the form 
of men.  Andrea grew almost a foot, her blouse formed into a man's shirt, 
and her hair migrated to her face, becoming a full beard.  Her skin seemed to 
swallow up her jewelry.  And though she couldn't see it, Felicia could feel 
something similar happening to her.

As soon as he could move again, Felix started to hyperventilate, half 
collapsing to the floor.  Andrew and Elizabeth each grabbed an arm and lifted 
him back up.  "Hey, Felix, I know this place is just a good a meat market as 
the girls told us it was, but you're not going to score by passing out."  A 
quick glare from Liz caused Andrew to amend his statement.  "Of course, we 
brought the best with us."

"YouÉyouÉyou called me Felix."

"Well, of course he did.  You're Felix, I'm Elizabeth, he's Andrew.  Are you 
all right?"

"Am I all right?"  Felix was starting to raise his voice.  "Of course I'm not all 
right!  The whole world's going mad!"

While most of the crowd was starting to move away from the uncomfortable 
scene, a pair of girls were cutting their way through the crowd to get to it.  
The auburn-haired one spoke first.  "Excuse me, I'm Crissy, and this is 
Terri; we're a couple of the hostesses for this party.  What seems to be the 
problem here?"

The blonde leaned over to whisper to her friend Ð "Why is he still holding 
that purseÉ?"

Felix caught his breath.  If he didn't stay calm, he was going to completely 
snap.  He tried to enunciate each word individually, to make sure he wasn't 
misunderstood.  "The problem, ladies, is that everyone's dancing around as 
if they don't notice that absolutely everyone in the room has changedÑ"

"Hey, is that my purse?"  Crissy had gotten the gist of what was going on, 
but wanted to discuss it privately.  Leaning in, apparently to examine the 
purse, she lowered her voice so that only Felix could hear her.  "We've got to 
talk.  Meet us in the kitchen in five minutes."  She stood back up.  "No, I 
guess it isn't after all.  Anyway, you were saying?"

The look in Crissy's eyes told Felix to improvise.  "Ah, um, I'm not sure.  I 
just suddenly felt light-headed."  He turned to address Liz and Andrew.  
"Sorry about that.  I'm going to find the bathroom; you two have fun without 
me for a while."

"OhÉokay."  What was that look on Elizabeth's face?  "I mean, we can just 
leave now if you're not feeling well."

"No, I think I'll be better in a minute.  You and Andre-Andrew just hang out 
for a while; I shouldn't be long."

"All rightÉ"  Liz didn't seem pleased with the idea, but Felix seemed to be a 
little more sure of himself.  Still, she watched very carefully as he left the 
room.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Terri and Crissy found Felix sitting on the kitchen floor, clutching the 
handbag, still somewhat in shock.  Terri knelt down and touched his 
shoulder.  "Are you okay?"

"I think so."

"Then maybe we can figure out what's going on."  Crissy was standing by 
the door, keeping a lookout for anyone coming toward the kitchen.  "You're 
the first girl to remember who she really was after she turned into a guy 
here."

""I'm not a girl.  I'm a man."

"We can see that, butÉ"

Felix interrupted Terri.  "No, I'm really a man. I found this purse at my job 
about a month and a half ago, and when I reached in to try to find some 
identification, it sucked me inside.  I must have been in there for hours, and 
when I finally got out, I had a new body, address, family, friends, car, you 
name it, it was different, but no-one else seemed to remember the old me.  I 
tried to find a way to change back, but I couldn't find anything, and I had 
finally just accepted that I had to be crazy, that I'd always been a woman, 
when I came to this party andÉ"  Felix filled in the rest of the story, jumping 
back and forth.  He was so confused that he felt like crying, but it didn't 
seem okay anymore.

"Wow."  Crissy looked at Terri.  "Think it's the old man?"

"Even if it's not, he probably knows something that can help."

"What are you talking about?"

 "There's this shop at the mall, Spells R Us.  Not everyone can see it all the 
time, and it never seems to be in the same place twice.  But he sells real spells 
and magical items.  What happened out thereÑ" Terri waved her hand in the 
general direction of the living room.  "Ñhappened because we screwed up a 
spell to fill the house with girls for another party.  I'm Terrence Jenkins 
during the day, and she's Chris Wagner.  We're the guys who took your 
coats at the door."

"That's right.  I'm willing to bet that handbag came from Spells R Us, even 
though this doesn't really seem like his style."

Felix looked up at Crissy.  "What do you mean?"

"You're a loose end.  Folks usually don't remember who they really are."

"But you twoÉ"

Terri's turn.  "We cast the spell, so the rules are a little different.  Even so, 
we didn't remember the first night we were like this.  But Crissy's right; this 
doesn't seem like the old man's style.  Unless there's something you're not 
telling usÑ"

"There isn't."

"Okay, there isn't.  You seem pretty blameless, and while we've known him 
to occasionally screw with someone who ticked him off, he usually strikes 
me as having a pretty decent sense of fair play.  This isn't really like him."

"Well, why don't we go ask him?"  Felix was getting up and heading for the 
door when Crissy grabbed his arm.

"Hang on.  No-one can leave the building without us, and it makes us a great 
target for any other wizards and sorcerers and what have you.  Contrary to 
what you found, there's a bunch of 'em around here, and this spell is like a 
big bulls-eye on our backs."

 "And this may seem like a stupid reason, but we've got to help run the party; 
we can't just run out on a whim."  Opening the kitchen door, Terri saw that 
the party was already starting to get out of control.

"Right.  So you just stay right here until two, when everything changes back, 
and tell us what you find out tomorrow, since we're going to be out of 
town."

"We'll make sure no-one touches the handbag for you.  So just have fun."  
Terri took the purse and headed toward the same closet he'd used for 
Felicia's coat.

Crissy grabbed Felix's hands.  "And while Terri has that, you dance with 
me."  She smiled coquettishly and started to drag Felix onto the floor.

"What?  But you're a guyÉ"

"No, right now you're a guy, and there aren't a whole lot to go around here, 
if you hadn't noticed."

"But you're reallyÉ"

Crissy spread her arms and indicated her body, giving a slight wiggle.  "Does 
any of this look imaginary to you?"

Felix had to admit it didn't.  "But how can you stand it?"

"I don't know.  Maybe our minds change more than yours does.  Maybe 
we're just used to it, since it's been happening for a while."  A wicked grin 
came over her features.  "Besides, you didn't seem to have any problems 
with being with a guy when you first got here."

"ButÑ"

"Look, you're not gonna get me into bed or anything; I don't think either of 
us wants that.  So why not just have fun while it lasts?  If the wizard can't 
change you back into a guy, you might not have many more chances to dance 
with a pretty girl."  Crissy smiled and laid her head on her shoulder, a parody 
of female wistfulness.  "Please?"

Felix finally surrendered.  It was weird, but who was he to say no to such a 
pretty girl who turned out to be a pretty good dancer, if not in Andrea's 
league.  He didn't catch the hurt look Liz gave them, but Liz didn't remember 
it the next morning.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Felix (Felicia? Just what did he call himself, now?  Felice?  Felixia?) had no 
trouble getting out of bed before Liz in the morning Ð though they'd both 
been up until three, Felix had avoided the sauce, and though Liz had just had 
a couple of cocktails, it was enough.  As good a friend as Liz had been for 
the past month and a half, this was something Felix had to do alone.

Exhaustion turned to nervousness in the car.  Nervousness became anxiety in 
the parking lot, which grew to full-blown fear as he entered the mall.  After 
half an hour of seeming to catch the sign out of her corner of his eye only to 
find something else, Felix was dealing with anger.

When he finally did spot the store, he clenched his jaw and walked in 
purposefully, ignoring the bell, the door, the guard dog, all the products on 
the shelves and everything else, moving directly to the counter, slapping the 
purse down, and crossing his arms while staring at the man in a robe who sat 
on a stool behind the counter.

The old man raised an eyebrow.  "May I help you?"

Felix pointed at the purse.  "Tell me about this."

"It appears to be a reversible leather designer purse, expensive but not 
ostentatiously so, perhaps a few months out of vogue.  But fashion 
accessories aren't my specialty; perhaps you're in the wrong store."

"That's not all there is to it and you know it."

"I would advise you to watch your tone of voice with me, young lady.  I 
think you know that I am not some simple shopkeeper to be pushed around.  
I will tolerate your anger because you have been badly used, but your attitude 
had better improve if you want actual co-operation."

Felix sighed.  "Okay.  Terri and Crissy said that you have generally played 
fair with them, but you've got to understand that I've really got no reason to 
trust you other than their say-so.  So, can you tell me anything else about 
thisÉthing?"

The old man grinned.  "Much better, Felix, much better.  Or do you prefer 
Felicia now?  I understand that you might be at a confusing time, name and 
pronoun-wise."

"How didÉ"

"Now, now.  You came here looking for someone or something with magical 
power; consider that but a small demonstration."

"Yeah.  Yeah, I guess you're right.  Call me Felicia, then."  He looked at his 
feet and mumbled.  "It seems to be the name I respond to easiest, now."

"But not necessarily how you think of yourself, though?  At least, not after 
last night, I imagine.  Anyway, in response to your question, your purse 
appears to have a standard 'magic-bag' enchantment on it:  It can store far 
more than its apparent capacity, and always provides the needed item 
immediately, without a hassle."

"But that can't be it!  I mean, if it were, I don't think I'd be in here like 
thisÉ"

"It only appears to have the standard enchantment on it.  The actual 
enchantment is much more ingenious:  Rather than compressing matter, or 
storing it in some sort of tesseract, what the bag does is alter time to make 
sure that the proper item has been placed inside, and will be on top when the 
bearer reaches for it.  That's a simplified explanation, of course, but it will do 
to explain that portion of the bag's magic."

"But what aboutÑ"

"I'm coming to that.  What it did to you, apparently, was to alter time so that 
Felicia Ryder was born instead of Felix Madison."

"Okay.  That makes sense.  So can it change me back?"

"I see no reason why it shouldn't be able to alter history to cause Felix to 
exist, rather than Felicia, although I can't be sure Ð I must admit that I'm 
surprised that it didn't alter your memories like it did for almost everyone 
else's."

Felix leaned against the wall and let out a long, defeated sigh.  "That's no 
good."

"Perhaps you misunderstood me Ð even though I don't understand that one 
effect, I really do see no reason why the bag won't be able to turn you back."

"It's not that.  It's just that I wouldn't be the only one affected, would I?  I 
put things back to the way they were and Liz drops out of school to take care 
of her mother, who might have died without the chemotherapy that myÐthat 
Felicia's father paid for.  And then let's talk about Paul Ryder.  From what I 
can tell, his daughter has been his entire life since his wife died; what 
happens to him if she doesn't exist?  I can't think of any answers I like to that 
one."  Felix held his head in his hands.  "What right do I have to take all that 
away from them?"

"Would it be so bad to stay as Felicia?  You're attractive, you've got money, 
good friends, people who love you.  It's not exactly a bad life."

"But it's not mine!  I have friends that I've known for fifteen years, and a big 
family that I miss.  I couldn't find my way to my own room on 
Thanksgiving.  I've got a whole life now that I don't remember, and no real 
use for the memories I've got!  My god, I had to go insane to deal with this; I 
don't want to spend the rest of my life pretending to be someone else!"  Felix 
turned away from the old man; he couldn't look into his eyes while 
confessing what had happened to his mind.

"I'd hardly call you insane, Felicia.  Given what happened to you, a 
delusional state might have been the most rational way to go."

"That's a big help.  So what can I do?"

"I have items here that can alter memories and history, make you and 
everyone else who knows about Felix Madison forget he ever existed."

"I don't want to forget my life!  I mean, it sounds like suicide."

The old man shrugged.  "There doesn't appear to be much I can do for you.  
You're welcome to browse the store, but you likely won't find anything more 
powerful or more helpful than that purse."

Felix whipped his head around.  "Are you saying that this thing can fix 
everything."

The old man shrugged.  "Possibly, if used right.  You're a pretty smart 
cookie, and seem to at least try to do right by others.  With your major in 
math with a focus on game theory, you're probably better equipped to figure 
this one out than I am."

Felix considered that.  "Well, that's something to consider.  Just a couple 
more questions:  Who did this to me, and why?  Was it someone I know, and 
were they being malicious or just careless?"

The old man smiled.  "You don't really expect me to tell you that, do you?  
My customers do expect some degree of anonymity."

Felix nodded.  "I suppose that's true.  I think I've got some idea of who it 
was, anyway.  I just wanted to be sure, so I can decide what to do about it."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Bill plopped down in his seat next to Felicia in Statistics.  "There's something 
different about you today, but I just can't place it."

"Oh, that's easy.  Yesterday I had freckles, shorter hair Ð which was red Ð 
and smaller boobs, and I was also about two inches taller."

Bill stared at the blonde beauty next to him and started to laugh.  "Ask a 
stupid question, get a stupid answer.  Good one, Fee."

Felix pondered that response.  He'd been using the bag to change himself in 
little ways over the past week and a half, ever since he'd talked with that old 
man at the mall.  He'd found that he could do considerable fine-tuning of his 
appearance if he held a specific image in his mind while he was inside, 
although he couldn't change himself back into a man.  He'd experimented a 
little further:  Andrea's female tabby had been a calico tom before it had 
crawled into the handbag one day, but nobody else realized that.  The cat had 
changed several times when Felix had placed her inside the handbag (while 
Andrea was in the other room), but he'd only been able to guide the changes 
in the most general manner, no matter how hard he concentrated.  It had been 
amusing to watch Andrea call the cat by a different name every time she 
walked into the room, though.

Felix grumbled to himself as he repositioned himself in his seat; he'd better 
change back to his "regular" female body as soon as Liz hit the sack.  Trying 
on new bodies was titillating, but it had taken him days to adjust the first 
time, and not recognizing the face in the mirror really creeped him out.

But that was okay.  He had half a plan, at least, and something was bouncing 
around in the back of his head to suggest the other half, but he couldn't quite 
get a grip on it.  But it would come to him, he was sure of that.

----------------------------------------------------------------

"One more time Fee:  Are you sure you want to go back here?"

Felicia looked up at the Greek letters above the fraternity house's door.  "Oh 
yeah.  It's time."

Liz shrugged, remembering what happened the last time they'd been in this 
house.  "Okay.  Let's go in."

Lambda Pi's Christmas bash was one of the biggest on campus.  While the 
snow fell outside, the music was turned up as high as the heat inside.  
Lambda Pi brothers, pledges, any guy who could get at least three girls in the 
door with him, and any girl who wanted to come could feast on the Yule-
themed snacks, drinks, music and decorations that surrounded them.

Felicia handed her coat and purse to one of the pledges manning the door.  
The freshman goggled at what Felicia had on underneath (and what she 
didn't).  "That's certainly aÉfestive outfit."

Felicia didn't argue.  She her stretchy plaid kilt was dark greed with dark red, 
reminiscent of holiday wrapping paper.  Long legs sheathed in black nylons 
emerged from beneath it, terminating in gold-colored shoes with little bows.  
She wore almost nothing at all up top Ð a halter which with a plunging 
neckline, whose matched the skirt and seemed to be covering her breasts 
basically from of static electricity.  She'd impishly stuck a giant ribbon just 
below the neckline's lowest point, as if to say "open me".  A large golden 
barrette (one that looked like a headphone frame) held her fiery red curls out 
of her eyes, but let it cascade past her shoulders.  The outfit had cost a pretty 
sum, but certainly seemed to function as advertised.  She was a present any 
man would be happy to see under his tree.

Liz leaned over to whisper to her friend.  "Since when did you like being the 
center of attention?"

"I could get used to it."

Neither Felicia or Liz would want for attention.  Though Felicia was the belle 
of the ball Ð if something as crass as a frat party can be described as a "ball" Ð 
she could only deal with so many men at once, and there were certainly more 
reasons than just being close to Felicia to try one's luck with Elizabeth.

Randy Lauer tapped her shoulder.  "Can I get you a drink, foxy lady?"

Felicia held her arm up and jingled her Medic Alert bracelet.  Her pretty nose 
wrinkled in disgust.  "You don't seem to specialize in long memories around 
here, do you?"

Embarrassed, Randy muttered something and shuffled off.  Felicia grinned 
wickedly before allowing another dancing partner to capture her.  She had no 
interest in pigs like Randy.

It was an hour before she saw him.  She sighed; she was having such fun.  
"Well, playtime's over."  Casually picking up a fairly alcoholic cocktail, she 
walked in his direction.

Ron thought that he had bumped into Felicia; he had no idea that she and Liz 
had been practicing the maneuver all week, or how Felicia carefully 
controlled the glass so that the cocktail splashed into her face, messing up her 
alcohol-soluble makeup.  "I'm so sorryÉ"  There was something familiar 
about her face, but he couldn't quite place it.

She held out her hand.  "Felicia.  Felicia Ryder."  He was moving pretty 
slow; was he drunk already?

It was as if Ron had been gut-punched; he couldn't breathe for a second.  
Felicia's face was a feminized version of Felix's, and the name was 
something else, but he supposed it could all be a coincidence.  "R-r-ron 
Henderson.  I'm sorry, I'm just so clumsy.  Is there anything I can do to 
help?"  Belatedly, he shook her hand.

Smile sweetly.  "Just let me get my purse and point me to the bathroom so 
that I can fix my makeup and we should be all set."

"No problem."  Ron opened a closet.  "Your coat and purse should be in 
hereÉ"

"Oh, here it is!"  Felicia took the green bag off the hanger and out of the 
closet, looking completely innocent.

"No!  It can't be!"  If the name had been a punch in the stomach, the purse 
was a kick to the groin.  Ron staggered backward like a punch-drunk fighter.  
He recovered his wits somewhat when he heard a plate of appetizers clang on 
the floor after he knocked it over.  He violently tore his gaze away from 
Felicia, turned and ran out of the room.

"Ron!  Wait!"  Felix ran after him Ð no more role-playing Ð but even the 
relatively low inch-and-a-half heels on his shoes slowed him down.  When 
he got out of the common area and into the residential section, Ron was 
nowhere to be seen.  Shit.  Which way did he go?

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ron had been too panicked to close his door, which is why Felix found him 
in his room.  He stood at the door, panting.  He thought he was in better 
shape than that, but must have lost some when he came out of the bag 
optimized for sex appeal.  "Ron, we've got to talkÉ"  It was then that he saw 
the white powder on his end table, and the syringe that Ron was using to 
inject quite a large amount into his arm.  "Ho-lyÉ  What the hell are you 
doing?"

Ron turned his head to look at him.  "It's not your fault.  You just reminded 
me of him, and I can't live with it any more.  I killed my best friend because I 
wanted his girl, and I did it so well that no-one even knows he ever existed.  
But I know, and now she doesn't want me, and even if it was an accident, 
it's still my fault."  The needle dropped to the floor, spent.

"Oh my god."  Andrea had said that Ron had become incredibly self-
destructive in the last few weeks, but this was more than Felix had imagined.  
"Ron, listen to me.  Listen to me very closely.  You didn't kill Felix.  You 
changed him, and changed him a lot, but he's O.K."  No response.  "I'm 
Felix, Ron.  I know I may not look the part, but I am.  I'm not dead; in fact 
I've probably never been healthier in my life."

"Doesn'tÉmatter.  StillÉdestroyed everything.  ThisÉshould make upÉfor 
everything."  He slumped back on the bed.

Felix grabbed him.  "Don't die on me, dammit!  Don't die for nothing!"  He 
shook him.  Ron seemed to become a little more alert, although Felix could 
swear he could hear the guy's heart racing.

"ReallyÉFelix?"  His eyes were starting to glass over even as he asked the 
question.

"Yes, I'm really Felix.  Why'd you go and do this; what could this stuff do 
for you?"

"WantedÉto die."

Felix gave Ron a grin that seemed to be pure evil; as inappropriate a moment 
as it was, he couldn't resist the joke.  "Well, in that case asphyxiation is 
much more effective."

Ron looked confused for a moment, until Felix whipped his handbag up to 
cover Ron's head.  His body seemed to stiffen, but within a minute, it had 
been absorbed into the purse.

Felix picked it up, and slung it over his shoulder.  He took a few deep 
breaths to try and calm himself, and then walked back to the common room.  
He found Elizabeth quickly, and explained that the beeper in her purse had 
gone off, and she had to go back home and call her father to make Christmas 
plans.  After receiving assurances that Liz would get home okay, he grabbed 
his coat and headed to his car.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Felix stepped into his bedroom and set the purse on the floor.  Sitting on the 
bed, he took off his shoes and massaged his feet.  Whoever designed 
women's shoes should be shot, thoroughly.  Well, might as well get it over 
with.

Felix unzipped the purse and reached in with both hands.  He had to strain 
mightily, holding the bag to the floor with his feet, but eventually a head 
emerged, then shoulders, arms, torso, hips, legs, and feet.  He laid the 
sleeping girl on his bed.

She looked something like Ron, but also something like Paul Ryder; Felix 
had realized that the same thing held for him Ð as Felicia, he had looked as 
much like Felix Madison as he could yet still be recognizable as his new 
father's daughter.  She was dressed in an outfit similar to his except for the 
colors Ð her plaid was red with gold, with green shoes and barrette to 
complement her dark brown hair.  She was a little shorter than Felicia, and 
wore higher heels to compensate.

Felix reached into the purse again, and pulled out a smaller bag.  He opened 
the little purse and pulled a driver's license out.  He looked at the girl, who 
had already curled into a fetal position and was sleeping comfortably, and 
started talking to her.  She moved as if she were aware someone was talking, 
but never woke up.

"Well, it looks like your name is Veronica Ryder, and we're sisters.  Twins, 
even, though evidently not identical.  Fraternal, or sororal, as the case may 
be, if that's even a word.  Anyway, you've got a starter kit for a new life in 
this bag.

"I was going to ask you nicely, but you didn't give me time.  But from what I 
saw, you needed a new start in the worst way."

He scribbled a note down on a piece of paper Ð just his name and "Call Me" Ð 
and set it on the desk.  "Look, I'd stay and help you out, but Christmas is 
coming, and I want to be with my family.  I miss them so much.  It's not an 
easy decision, though Ð your new roommate's the best friend a person can 
have, and the money's pretty cool too.  Look at me, I'm babbling.  Anyway, 
if you heard any of this, good luck.  It's not easy at first, but you get used to 
it, and it's not so bad after that."

With nothing left to say, Felix kissed the girl on the forehead.  He picked up 
his purse, held the sides, and turned it inside-out.  It hurt his brain to watch 
as he did it Ð it was like an animated Escher Ð but after he was done he held a 
men's attachŽ case.

"Reversible.  Cute."  He unzipped the case and stepped in.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue

It was the day before classes started for the second semester, and Felix was 
working concession stand with Cindy.  The last of the shows had just gone 
in when Elizabeth Hardy stepped out of cinema 3 and walked up to the stand.

"What can I get for you?"

"A large Pepsi and some Junior Mints.  We miscounted in our last order."

Felix got her food and collected Elizabeth's six bucks.  She was walking 
back to the theater when she turned around.

"I know this is going to seem crazy, but are you related to anyone named 
Felicia Ryder?  There's sort of a resemblanceÑ"

Felix's eyes bugged.  "You remember Felicia?"

Liz nearly dropped her snacks.  "Oh, thank god, I'm not crazy!  How do you 
know her?  Everyone I ask says they've never met anyone named Felicia, and 
these were her closest friends!  What happened to her?"

"It's a long story, anyway you'll never believe it.  But I was her; this 
magicÉthing turned me into her."  Yeah, she'll believe this.

"Magic.  Okay, that would explain why I remember last year two different 
ways, and why Veronica just popped up out of nowhere as soon as Felicia 
disappeared."  It started to sink in.  "Wow.  You were Felicia?  How?  I 
mean, you had everythingÑ"

"It's a long story.  But how have you been?  I had no idea how much I'd 
miss you this last month."

"I've missed you too.  Ronnie's nice and all, but she's not as much fun as 
you.  Just where did she come from?"

"Veronica was Ron Henderson, my old roommate.  He was sort of 
responsible for me being Felicia, but thenÉwell, by the time it all ended, he 
needed to start over.  Tell me; does he remember anything about what 
happened?  He Ð or, I guess, she Ð called me once, but I think she thought I 
had been hitting on her or something."

"You know, I really don't know.  She did sort of stumble when I asked her 
about FeeÉabout you!"  Liz laughed.  "This can get really confusing!"

Felix smiled.  "Don't I know it!  I'll get to the rest.  But you were sayingÉ?"

"Right.  Anyway, she stumbled when I asked if she had a sister Felicia, and 
sometimes she acts like she's sort of lost, but she acts a whole lot more, well, 
girly than you ever did.  I mean, tomorrow's her four-month-anniversary 
with Bert, and it's just making her so obnoxious!"

Liz looked at her watch.  "Well, it looks like I've missed the beginning of the 
movie."

"Hey, I get free tickets.  We can see it later if you just want to stand here and 
talk while I clean up for a while."

Liz grinned.  "I thought you'd never ask."