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Lipstick and Nail Polish (Whisper Twice & AnnaBeth Belle)

Whisper Twice

Whisper Twice

Star
Joined
May 20, 2016
Jason Sivaslian left the restaurant with his girlfriend, Stacy, on one arm and a Styrofoam box of leftover linguine in the other. They walked the streets of the city together, laughing and joking with each other. As others walked by the couple, it was clear to them that this was a young and eager relationship. Indeed, the two had been together about two months now and it was clear that, while they were falling for each other, they still weren't sure whether they were prepared to take that long plunge.

Streetlights shone overhead and a light snow was falling on the two as they walked. They seemed an odd match by silhouette. Jason was a tall man, with broad shoulders, while Stacy was petite with a slight build. Closer up, they differed as well. He had wavy black hair, tan skin, and a boy next door grin. She had red hair, pale, freckled skin, and thick lips to die for.

Both of their apartment buildings were in walking distance to the restaurant, but they reached Jason's first. Looking in, he saw he had a package outside his mailbox. His order of multivitamins must have arrived from Amazon. He fidgeted slightly, the dance every man gets before he asks the important question at the end of a date. "Do you want to come up, or should I walk you the rest of the way to your apartment?"
 
As they walked, Stacy Chuloski took every chance to touch Jason. She never let go of the crook of his elbow where she'd laced both hands, even when it made walking awkward. Hip brushing his, shoulders into the side of his muscular arm, even laying her head on his shoulder when they stopped at corners to wait on the light to change. It was a magical night, with softly falling snow that muffled the sounds of the city and clung like bright fuzzy halos in her vision on her eyelashes. Dressed to stay warm, Stacy was still lithe and petite in her belted in snug about the waist pea-coat and emerald green scarf and matching cap. Warm leggings peeped out from under the hem of her dress under the coat and snug but cute brown boots completed her outfit. Next to Jason she looked like a child, or a winter elf, an image heightened by her pale skin and fine boned features and the wings she drew on the corners of her eyes to slant them. The last two months had been incredible and she felt like no matter what happened this was the one. This was the man she was going to spend her life with and make babies with and grow old together with. Jason was her man and nothing could change that.

"Again?" she asked as she reached into his mailbox and took out the package from Amazon. Jason was something of a health nut and was always trying new vitamins and supplements and anything with the word homeopathy in it. "I swear, Jason," she teased. "Just buy gummy chew vitamins like I do and you'd save so much money." Enough to buy her an engagement ring for instance. With a laugh at his expression, she tucked the package under his arm. "I'm just teasing. You're so smart, Jason, and I know you think carefully about all this stuff. I just don't see the point of it. Like, you're perfect. You don't need medicine. Not like me." Stacy took several medications, mainly to regulate her cycle and battle the anemia she was prone to. It was a legacy of her genetics and nothing could be done about it. If she didn't take birth control her periods were awful and the hormone swings worse. Men had it so easy. Jason would never know the trials she and every other girl went through every month.

At least he brought her dark chocolate and sent her stupid cat memes on her phone when she was on her period. Jason was just...perfect.

The perfect boyfriend.

"Go on up and open your new toys," she said and tapped his Amazon package. "I'll be fine plus it's just so magical out here I want to walk some more." It wasn't that she was turning down the chance of sex, but she knew Jason. He'd be deep into the product sheet and on the internet, planning how to take his new vitamins, and she'd be left to add Pins on her phone.

"I love you, Jason," she told him after taking his head between both of her gloved hands. "Don't ever change," Stacy added then kissed him lingeringly on his lips, her feet pressing her up on tiptoe to reach while Jason's strong, muscular arm supported her.

"Goodnight," she said and drawing his and her arm out to the absolute limit before letting go, Stacy laughed and then disappeared into the obscuring snow. Even though she knew he'd never see it till much later, Stacy texted him after she got to her own apartment and hung up her coat. Home safe. Love you! with an added heart emoji or two for emphasis.
 
Jason watched Stacy go, biting his lip slightly as she did. It was getting really to follow the standard dating timeline with her. She just got him, understood him on a level that most other girls wouldn't. How many other girls would have complained that he was spending hours debating random people on the internet over which supplement to take after a workout? From Jason's experience, every other girl but one. And he had that one.

He turned the key in the lock to his building and walked into the lobby, grabbing the package along the way. He sighed at yet another company spelling his Armenian last name wrong as he jogged up the three flights of stairs to his apartment. He lived alone for now, his last roommate had moved out three months ago and he hadn't yet found a replacement. Secretly, though, he'd been seeing how long he could ride out paying all the rent himself until he could ask Stacy to move in with him.

He plopped the linguine in the fridge and opened up his package. The bottle itself was unremarkable, but it was the product listing he looked for. He grabbed it and a bottle of Gatorade and plopped himself on the couch, skimming through it and referencing his laptop on occasion. He smiled, everything looked right. He popped open the bottle and dumped two pills in his palm. He glanced at them quizzically. The picture on the internet showed orange pills and these were definitely pink. He shook his head at bad stock photography and washed them down with some Gatorade.

That done, it was time for bed. He noticed Stacy's text as he was drifting off. Night love, he texted back and promptly fell asleep.
 
Stacy was doing something she hadn't since 9th grade. On the paper in front of her, lit by the standing lamp in the corner and the first muted rays of the pale winter sun, Stacey was writing out her name over and over. Some ornate, some simple, some with hearts and flowers and little vine accents, but her name in all of them.

Well, not her name exactly. Not yet.

Instead of Stacy Chuloski covering the page it was Stacy Sivaslian. Mrs. Stacy Sivaslian. Stacy Chuloski-Sivaslian. Mrs. Jason Sivaslian even. Later today she was going to buy a copy of Brides and go through it. Oh, it wasn't going to happen soon. He hadn't even proposed but Stacy really thought Jason might in the next few months. Really it was just silly daydreaming, a retreat to when she and her friends used to plan their dream weddings, but it made her feel good and closer to Jason. Maybe she should have spent the night? No, that had been the right choice. Jason, like all boys, sometimes needed his space. He might have made love to her but he'd be really wishing he could obsess - that was the right word - over his new whatever they were pills. It was funny because Jason was the healthiest person she knew and didn't need any help where she had to take birth control and iron pills and carry a-

Inhaler. Where was her inhaler? She'd used it last night after the cold air gave her a coughing fit and Jason had held it while she was trying to stand up straight after being bent over... Forcing herself to breathe right and not give herself an asthma attack, Stacy checked her purse and didn't find it. Jason must have it still she thought, not remembering the feel of his hand in her coat pocket as he tucked it away for safety. Well, she had an emergency one in the medicine cabinet so she'd be okay if something happened. It was just irritating.

Breathing back under control she stretched and looked out over the view from her apartment. The city looked so pretty, covered in white and with a hazy feel that no Instagram filter could reproduce. Maybe they could go out again today and just be outside. It was so hard with their schedules to just be with each other and not in a restaurant or at a show or at their places. Sometimes she felt the city was passing them by and they didn't know it. Stacy didn't even have any girlfriends in the city, not yet, and so was feeling a little cut off from having fun shopping, or getting tea, or going to get her hair or nails done, or just gossiping with her besties. Few of Jason's friends had girlfriends, he was kind of the shining star of his group, and the ones that they did have didn't click with her. That was okay. So long as she had Jason she didn't need anyone else. A girl needed a guy and she had hers.

Stacy poked her phone to life and reread his text. Night love. Did he mean Night, Love or Night Love. As in he was calling her Love or saying he Loved her? It made a difference! With a sigh of exasperation she took a chance on waking him up. "Siri, call Jason"

"Do you mean Heart Emoji Jason Heart Emoji Sparkle Sparkle?"

"Yes!"
 
Jason jerked awake upon hearing Uptown Funk playing next to his head. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He had been wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs and he scratched his black chest hair absent-mindedly as he picked up his buzzing phone. It really itched for some reason. A happy, but sleepy smile graced his face as he saw who was calling him.

He swiped right, and held the phone to ear, pushing some hair away from the side of his head to do so. He didn't realize he'd needed to go to the barber. No, he must've just been sleepy. "Hey, sweet pea, everything alright? You're calling a bit...early." His voice cracked slightly on the last sentence and he shook his head. He wasn't feeling too well. His head ached. His belly felt strange and it seemed like it itched wherever he had body hair.

He listened to her and laughed, scratching at his chest hair again. In the early morning, he didn't notice that his scratching was actually causing the hair to fall out on his mattress. "Yeah, you woke me up, but it's okay." He cleared his throat a few times. He clearly needed some water. His voice did not sound right.

They chatted for a few more moments until a gut-wrenching pain went through Jason's abdomen. He gripped his belly for a moment a let out a gasp. "Stace, I need to go. I think I'm going to throw up. Call you very soon!" He tossed his phone onto the bed and scrambled to the bathroom adjoining his bedroom. He curled over the toilet, waiting for the inevitable.

But he didn't throw up. Instead, as he knelt there, hands gripping the bowl, he noticed that his hand looked shrunken slightly, and had an almost feminine appearance. His long black hair fell in front of his vision and he pushed it back again. Wait, what? He didn't have long black hair. That was when he saw his hairless chest and arms and his eyes grew wide. What the hell was going on? Another pain shot through him, this time in his groin and chest and he thought he saw his chest raising up slightly. But the pain was too much and Jason slipped into unconsciousness.

About thirty minutes later, Jason opened his eyes and shook his head. He didn't feel right and he sat up and looked down at himself. Two impressive globes stared back at him and he pressed back against the wall in shock. He took a few breaths, closed his eyes, then opened them again. No, they were still there. Hesitantly, he grabbed hold of the kitchen sink and stood, shakily, as if his entire sense of balance and coordination was off. The face that stared back at him wasn't his own. It wasn't even male. He let out a short scream and it was high pitched and not his own.

He stumbled out of the bathroom, his legs not entirely knowing how to walk in this new body and he fell into bed on his phone. Fingers that were not his, that were soft and feminine with cute fingernails picked up his phone and he pulled up his texts. Something weird is happening. Come over. I need you! I'm so scared. He sent the text to Stacy without even thinking. Wait, what was she going to think when she got here? Oh, this had to be a dream. He started shivering in fear and curled up in bed. What had just happened to him?
 
That was weird, Stacy thought and frowned at the phone screen after hanging up. It sounded almost like Jason was losing his voice, sometimes making it awkwardly crack like a boy's did when he was going through puberty. It wasn't anywhere that high pitched, and soon returned to Jason's normal baritone, but it did sound weird. Maybe he had a sore throat or was getting a bronchial infection. That's probably what it was, phlegm in his throat and lungs making his voice crack and it was probably why he wanted to throw up. That worried her a little bit. They'd eaten the same thing last night, literally. Jason had ordered a plate and she stole one or two bites of everything, never eating much. It infuriated him sometimes and he'd often order her a child's plate which left Stacy sulking and him grinning like a fool before they both started laughing and made up with a sweet kiss. It couldn't have been the food though because she wasn't feeling nauseous. Nauseated. Wait, which one was it? The two words always confused her and Stacy pondered it, letting her worry about her boyfriend slip for a minute until it popped back up. Jason was sick, darn it, and she was worried about words? What kind of girlfriend was she? She should go take care of him and pamper him and sit beside him in bed and rub his forehead and let him watch those stupid Twitch streams he liked all night long. She wouldn't even get on Facebook while he did and everyone knew how hard that was. That Stacy would set aside her social media life for him would show Jason she was good for him!

Excited, already making plans in her head about how perfect it would be, Stacy threw on a pair of yoga pants, a cotton top and layered it with a big comfy sweater on top that she thought looked super cute. A little perfume, deoderant and a tooth brushing and she was ready. Before the date she'd taken a long bath and used a new bath bomb in it so she was clean enough and her hair didn't need to be washed today. Too much ruined it. Guys washed theirs every day and it ended up coarse and gross. On the way out of her apartment she pulled her coat on, still not noticing the inhaler was in the pocket where Jason put it.

Almost half an hour later, in the middle of checking out at the corner pharmacy with a big basket of cold medicine and cough drops and some treats she knew Jason liked, her phone buzzed. Stacy always hated people who were glued to the screen instead of talking to the cashier and getting out of other peoples' way, so she ignored it until after she checked out. Winter air was brisk on her face and made her eyes tear up a little bit when she stepped outside, looking up to make sure she didn't walk in front of a car while she read Jason's text. Stacy stopped in the middle of the road, staring at the words until a car honked and she jumped onto the sidewalk in shock. Jason, scared? What was going on? Oh my God, was he okay? He was throwing up, oh my God. Should she call 911?

Panicked, Stacy spun back and forth, indecision making her useless, and her heart jumped in her chest. The fog around her head showed she was breathing faster too. Not really thinking, she walked, sometimes ran for a bit, the bags banging from her hand and into her shins, to Jason's apartment. "Jason?" she asked before she banged on the door. "Jason? Are you okay?" Where was his spare key? She'd bought a heart shaped silver ring just for it when he'd given it to her a few weeks ago. There it was, in the bottom of her purse. It took several tries but eventually she got the door open and went into Jason's apartment.

"Jason, you're scaring me," Stacy said almost breathlessly. The bags and her key landed on his entry table and one of them slid off, spilling a bottle of Tylenol Cold 'n Flu and a round cobalt blue jar of Vick's vapor rub. "Jason?" she said again, going into the bedroom. "Honey, talk to me. What's wrong?" Stacy went to the side of the bed and pulled back the covers that were around the form on the bed, reaching for his hand. As much as he said he was scared, right now Stacy needed the touch of her boyfriend's hand.

What she got instead was a woman's hand, bigger than her own but unmistakably feminine. Stacy jerked back and part of the covers came with her, revealing the brunette woman.

In Jason's bed.

Wearing his boxers.

Nude with her big breasts that Stacy didn't have and felt self-conscious about spilling all over her boyfriend's mattress.

Whatever color Stacy had in her pale skin dropped completely out and she stumbled backwards, hand covering her mouth. No. No this wasn't happening. Jason was perfect and he was her boyfriend and he called her Love and thought she was pretty and smart and funny and they - this wasn't happening!

"You fucking asshole!" she screamed out then slammed into the bathroom looking for Jason. "Where are you and who the fuck is she!"
 
Jason's eyes went wide as the covers were pulled off of him by Stacy. He had completely forgotten about the fact that she had an extra key. How could he have forgotten that? What was he thinking? And, more importantly, what was Stacy thinking at that moment? His brain switched over into crisis mode and he suddenly lost all the despair and fear he'd been feeling at his situation. The important thing now was that, no matter what, he didn't lose Stacy. That Stacy didn't leave the apartment thinking he was cheating on her.

He got up from the bed, wrapping a sheet around his body, and moved towards the bathroom. Walking was strange. Not only was he several inches shorter now, but he had hips and a round ass. His breasts also were a weight he wasn't used to and it took him a second to get his balance. He didn't even notice, in his crisis mode thinking, how fixing his balance problems caused his ass to roll with each step.

"Stacy," he cried out. "Stacy, I know it's impossible to believe, but it's me. I'm Jason! I don't know what happened and I'm very scared. And I know you have no reason to believe me, but I'm Jason, not some random girl!" He made it into the bathroom and saw Stacy standing there. He was worried he might lose her. He was worried she would run out and the one closest to him, who might be his closest support group, would be gone. But he was even more worried about something else? Stacy was breathing hard and her face was red and contorted with anger, and in such a state, she sometimes got major asthma attacks.
 
"Get out," she screamed then bent over and coughed deeply, the sound very hoarse and wheezy. Stacy still wore her coat but had untied its belt and undone the buttons. "Get out," she repeated and stepped forward, pushing at the bitch who wore her boyfriend's sheets like a badge of honor for fucking him. Fucking him because she was taller and prettier and had bigger tits and a real ass not a bony one and didn't have stupid problems. "Get out," she said and shoved at her again, "Just leave me alone and get Jason you bitch."

Stacy coughed again, then pushed pass the brunette woman and stumbled back into the living room. The sound of her wheezing was louder now, faster as the stress of the situation wouldn't let her try and stop it on her own. Almost knocking the single pillar table over, she got her purse and began to dig through it looking for her inhaler. Where was Jason? Had he gone out to buy her coffee or breakfast like he did for Stacy? Maybe he went out to get more condoms because he didn't need them with Stacy but that wide-hipped slut was probably infected and ovulating. Stacy worked by feel now, eyes full of tears that she didn't care were falling down her cheeks and off her nose. Where was it? Where was her inhaler? Frantic, small chest heaving to no avail and feeling dizzy from the lack of air, Stacy upended her purse. Things spilled everywhere and she knocked more of them off the table with her scrabbling hands. About to fall over, Stacy grabbed both sides of the small table and held on, bent over and wheezing pathetically. She couldn't breathe, oh God she was going to pass out.

"Am...ambu..." she fell back onto her bottom and not even the sharp pain of her butt hitting hard mattered. "Call... amb." God, why didn't she understand? The slut took her boyfriend and was just standing there now, all naked under the sheet that probably still smelled like her and Jason, and watched as Jason's now ex-girlfriend had a pathetic asthma attack.

"Ca..."
 
Jason watched in horror as the asthma attack overwhelmed his girlfriend. Yesterday, he would have immediately leapt into action. Today, he had been stung by her words. Of course, he knew that his story was unbelievable, that he wouldn't have believed it if the same thing had happened to Stacy. But, in this moment of needed action, the words caused him to freeze.

But just for a moment.

Then, his affection for her overcame everything else and Jason leapt into action. He dropped the sheets and ran to the wheezing Stacy. "Breathe, baby, breath," he said, even if it came in a different voice. He reached into her purse to help find the inhaler when he remembered. He had placed her inhaler back in her coat pocket, not in her purse.

"Stacy, I'm reaching into your coat pocket. It's where I put your inhaler last night. Just hold on. Breathe in. Breathe out. The oxygen is there. Breathe in. Breathe out." He fished into her pocket with his feminine hands and grasped the plastic he knew was there. With an exultatant feeling, he pulled out the inhaler and placed it in Stacy's mouth. Oh God, he thought, her lips were turning blue. He pressed down on the inhaler and felt her suck in a full breath. Then, he held her tight, not even realizing he was still basically naked, let alone female. "I've got you, Stacy. I've got you, love."
 
As if she was drowning, Stacy grabbed the wrist that held her inhaler at her lips. The cold plastic tasted like chemicals and the bottom of it grabbed painfully at her lip on the way in. Suddenly, timed just right as she was inhaling, the fine mist filled her mouth and was sucked partially down into her lungs. It always burned, but Stacy had learned to welcome the sting, the chemical taste of it. Even though she was so far into the attack that it didn't go deep enough, the medicine began to work, opening up the tiny, clogged byways of her lungs. A great wracking cough hit her and she was aware that someone was holding her, talking to her, but nothing else. Scrabbling at the hand she pulled the inhaler from it and pushed it back into her mouth. Just on the verge of being able to, Stacy wheezed out as deeply as she could and then hit the inhaler as hard as possible and sucked in until she felt something in her chest pop and she almost cried out from the pain of it. This time it went deeper, deep enough, and she fought to keep it in as long as possible. Tremoring as the chemical continued to hit, she held it and held it and held it then gave up and let it go.

Her next breath was deep again and she felt the pain of it like spikes behind her closed eyes. But it was deep, deep enough, and she was going to be okay. For a full ten minutes Stacy lay there, not really aware of anything other than concentrating on her breathing and the coughs that left her lower lip and chin wet. She was a mess, mascara and eyeliner ruined by tears, her skin pale as a corpse, and her hair plastered in a sweaty mess to her face.

Finally she was breathing almost normally, and though exhausted she was able to find enough strength to push off the woman holding her. A few minutes past Stacy had realized that the woman was the one who held her during her attack, who brought her the inhaler, who probably saved her life or at least another expensive ambulance ride. And she'd been pillowed between her, geez where they C cups? Ds? Stacy could have looked and found out, since the slut was naked from the waist up, but all she did was use her to push off and get up onto her knees.

"Here's your inhaler," she said and dropped it in the other woman's lap, not realizing it was her own. A forearm dragged across her face cleaned the spit off and she desperately wanted to get out of the coat because she was so hot from the attack. "Just, go get me Jason and put some fucking clothes on. You look ridiculous with your big cow tits swinging around. God, what does he see in you?"

Stacy stood up finally, paused to make sure she had her balance and went to begin to pack her purse. The first thing she saw was the heart shaped keyring. "Here! You'll need this to catch him fucking the next slut." Stacy threw it at the woman, missing and nearly knocking a coffee mug off the table.
 
Jason ducked as the keyring was thrown at him instinctively, even though it came nowhere close to hitting him. He covered himself up awkwardly, not used to hiding anything on his chest before. She wouldn't believe him. And how could she? How could anyone? He thought about all the things he could say, all the moments he could relay, and he realized that every one would be something she would think he told "the slut" in front of Stacy now.

He hung his head and was surprised when a tear rolled down his cheek. He wasn't much of a crier, maybe it was a change in his brain chemistry or something, he thought. He wiped it away with the hand that didn't hold the inhaler.

The inhaler.

"Stacy, I'm Jason. I swear that I'm Jason. You have to believe me. It's the inhaler, it's the key." He held it up triumphantly. "I put it in your coat pocket last night. That's how I knew how to find it this morning." He got on his knees, still trying to hide his partial nudity. "You have to believe me. How is this something I would have told someone? No one could know that but me. Your inhaler was in your pocket because I put it there."

He looked at his girlfriend, desperation in his eyes. "I don't know how, but I'm Jason. Please. I'm Jason."
 
"Stop saying his name," Stacy said, but without yelling it like she would have just a few moments ago. It had to be the after effects of the attack, going for over a quarter of an hour with low blood ox and the you just ran a marathon feeling that the exhaustion of it brought. Not that Stacy could ever run a marathon, or even a 5k. She couldn't do any of the athletic stuff Jason loved and so far had made up for it by being the best sideline cheerleader or waiting at the finish line for him or even putting up with the funky sweat stink of his gear when he forgot to change out his gym bag every day. But her? The woman in Jason's bed? So long as she bought a industrial strength sports bra she could probably do all those things Stacy never could.

Maybe it was that, the worry that this woman was going to replace her that made Stacy cling to the desperate hope that the nonsense she was saying about being Jason was true. "Just...shut up. And fix the fucking sheet. I don't need you to remind me you've got tits and I don't. Give it to me," she said and reached out for the inhaler. It looked like hers, she saw but wanted to check. Stacy all but snatched it out of the other woman's hand and backed up before checking.

It was hers! The prescription label on it had all the right information, it was the same brand and dosage medicine and color inhaler but Stacy didn't fully believe it until she popped off the mouthpiece cover and looked. It was hers! She had dropped it not long ago and chipped the bottom. It always dragged on her lip if she didn't pay attention and Stacy had been meaning to swap it out with an empty old one she had. Last night, after passing by the outdoor ice rink before going to dinner, the cold air had given her a coughing fit that was presaging an attack. Jason, wonderful Jason who had taken a lot of time to learn how to help her, even watching some videos on how to make her stand and coach her to breathe, Jason had pulled the inhaler out of her purse and given her a hit on it. Then she'd felt him hold her from behind, making Stacy stand up straight and arch to open her lungs physically and yes! He'd slipped his hand into her coat pocket and left it there. There was no way, no way!, anyone but Jason could know it was there. Stacy patted her pocket just to make sure there wasn't somehow another one.

Wide-eyed she looked at the other woman, looked at her inhaler, then looked back again.

"You- This ca- Oh my God what's going on?"
 
Jason's despair turned into blessed relief as he saw that maybe, possibly, he was being believed now. His head fell to his chest in exhaustion and he immediately had to close his eyes to stop himself from staring at his chest. Tears appeared at the corner of his eyes. "I don't know," the high alto voice that now came out of his mouth said. "I woke up from your phone, started feeling really sick, things started changing, I passed out from the pain, and woke up like this."

Suddenly, his head shot up. "The pills!" And he practically ran back to the laptop in his living room. "Ow," he said, as he plopped down. "Okay, running with these hurt." He said motioning to his breasts. He pulled a pill out of the container and dropped it on the table then started googling its description in his computer. The results made his heart drop. "Corrupt Thai pharmaceutical company forced to close after mixing experimental gender reassignment pills with multi-vitamins? Change believed to be permanent, but thankfully looks like all international shipments had been stopped?"

He looked back at Stacy and reached his hand out. "Permanent? Stacy, I need you. I'm so scared."
 
"You need to put on a god damned robe," she said, still where she stood when Ja- whoever it was - left her when she ran out of the room. It was like she didn't know her own body and that she was used to being naked but not used to having breasts. "Go!" she said, stepping back and refusing contact. Stacy pointed towards the bathroom. "He keeps it on the back of the door. Just..." she rubbed her hand through her baby fine hair, not at all thick and luxurious like the other woman's. "Go get a robe," she finished. "And don't touch his stuff."

Waiting until she was alone, Stacy sat down in front of Jason's laptop. How had she known his password? Jason was really picky about his computer and Stacy was clumsy with them. When she'd accidentally installed a virus on his computer using it one day to play browser games, he'd locked her out of it.

Pushing her hair back behind her ear, Stacy leaned forward then leaned back and shrugged the heavy coat off. It immediately felt cooler and she breathed a little bit easier from having the weight gone as well. Jason, okay not Jason the slut, had already done the work of looking up things. It was weird, it was the one thing the brunette seemed to know how to do. She certainly didn't know not to run without a bra on those stupidly big unfairly perfect tits of hers. And Stacy had seen her bump into the side of the door like she didn't know she had hips. Klutz. Serve her right if she got a bruise. But at the computer, at least, the brunette was confident and fast, just like Jason.

His vitamins! Those stupid, ridiculous vitamins! That was what this was all about? He'd ordered some stupid useless expensive take time away from his and Stacy's relationship vitamins and ended up...

"That's not possible," she said out loud. "You can't just... What is going on?" Stacy put her head in her hands and leaned forward until her elbows were on her knees. "Where's my Jason?"
 
Jason grabbed his bathrobe and put it on, surprised by how much bigger it was on him. He looked at himself in the mirror, touching his face, his lips. He couldn't believe it. He was completely different. A part of him knew, but he refused to check down below. Still, it's not like it wasn't obvious. Something that had always been there clearly no longer was.

He took a few steps back out toward the living room and stopped at the door separating his bedroom from the rest of the apartment. From there, he knew that Stacy could not see him.

He swallowed. He knew he had to say something, but he was afraid of scaring her off again. "I...I need to tell you something. I know this is impossible to believe. I don't quite believe it myself. But I am Jason. I am your boyfriend. And...and I need you. Today has been the most frightening day of my life. And the scariest part was not my body becoming like this, freaky as it is. The scariest part was thinking I might lose you. From you running out the door. From you not getting enough air. I can't lose you and, I know this isn't the voice you wanted to hear it from, but..."

He paused and gathered his courage.

"But I love you, Stacy. And I need you now, more than ever."
 
Stacy shook when the woman, the woman who was somehow Jason, told her he - she - loved Stacey. It had only been two months, no time at all compared to their lives so far or the potential of their lives to come, but in those two months Stacy knew Jason was the man she wanted to give her heart to like she had her body, and wanted his heart in return. Last night, when Stacy thought he might have texted a form of I Love You and obsessed over it and made up a pretense to call Jason, she'd been giddy with the possibility that soon, really soon, he would tell Stacy he loved her. And it would be a perfect movie moment and they'd kiss and the camera would swirl around them and one of her legs would be bent up at the knee and she'd have a cute stocking cap on and it would just be wonderful.

I love you, Stacy.

Jason said it, was saying it, but she'd never hear it from him. Not...Jason before. Just...Jason as he, she, was now.

So she shook, shook like she was going to cry but the ability had been torn out of her by the asthma attack and the loss of the man she'd decided to put at the center of her world. Stacy shook, mouth opening and closing, but no tears and no sobs came out. Bending over, she rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hand so hard that the purple green electric flashes threatened to drown her in their psychedelic sea.

"What are we going to do?" Stacy said and let her hands fall. "Jason, what are we going to do?"
 
Advanced survival guides all say the same thing. In a crisis situation with two people, if one person panics, the other becomes strangely calm, as if the stress of the crisis cannot affect them. So now it was with Jason. He moved back into the living room, much better clothed than before and sat on the couch across from Stacy. He wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Yet, he knew that such an act would probably just freak her out right now. Instead, he just reached out and held Stacy's hand.

"We work through the problems, one step at a time," he said. "Someone needs to do some research on this company in Thailand, see what we can find about the effects truly being permanent or not. I can do that.

He looked down at his bathrobe. He was still shocked at the body he saw below him. "Also, I have no clothes. My old stuff won't fit me. Sure, I can wear oversized shirts, but what about below the waist. We'll have to fix that today. Can you help me with that?" The calm one will set tasks for the panicked, to help calm them down, the guides said. "And I'm starving. I'm guessing this, we'll this probably burned a lot of calories. Could you make some breakfast while I research?"
 
Holding hands with the woman, with Jason, was not exactly comforting but it was contact. Where Jason's hand would have completely covered hers so perfectly, so rightly, the new Jason's hand was not that much bigger than her own, though still big. It was softer too, really soft. Softer, Stacy realized, than her own. There was no rough skin anywhere but she didn't feel the greasy residue of any lotion not that Jason ever used it much. His hands were always a little rough, just enough so that it felt good and said that he was a man. But new Jason's hands were like a baby's, not even a hint of use on them. In fact, Stacy looked up and into the woman's eyes, trying hard not to flinch away from them because they still looked like him there, in fact the new Jason didn't even have a single blemish, not one, on his skin of his face. Everyone had blemishes, that's why foundation and concealer existed, but there certainly wasn't any makeup in the apartment and no way was Jason wearing any. You could see it was bare skin, super fine pored bare skin which made Stacy incredibly stupidly jealous all of a sudden. She let go of the hand and stood up.

"Sure. Jason is really good at finding stuff on the internet. I mean is. You are. You're good at, I'll make breakfast,' Stacy veered off that line of talk quickly and with one more puzzled, almost mad look at Jason's face, went into the kitchen. Habit drove Stacy's selection. For Jason, almost half a pound of bacon. He'd taught Stacy that if she rinsed it under cold water first then cooked it it didn't curl up as much. He also taught her to fry his eggs in the grease, and use the spatula to flip the hot grease onto the top of them while they cooked, making them look a little pink instead of yellow and so that she didn't have to flip them. Once she looked out and her heart almost broke. The woman sat just like Jason, legs spread wide and bent over at the couch to reach the laptop on the table. That made for some challenges Jason wasn't used to, like his breasts getting in the way and constantly having to push his hair back. He kept doing it and Stacy realized he had no idea how to handle it. The eggs would be okay for just a second.

The contents of her purse were still everywhere, but what she needed was on top of the table. It was an elastic headband, about two inches wide, and still had a strand of Stacy's pale red hair stuck in it. "Sit up," she told Jason, standing behind him on the couch. "Sit up," she repeated and tapped him on the back. Her on the back. When Jason did, Stacy spread the headband out with her fingers and worked it over the top of Jason's head and down to his neck before sliding it back up. She let the back of it catch on where the thick, silky mass of hair on the nape of the neck would hold it, and pulled the front up and back onto the forehead so that Jason's hair was trapped by it and held back from his face so he would work. She adjusted it to fit better on the top of Jason's ears and then stopped. Jason's hair was heavy, thick, but not like it had been. The color was the same but deeper somehow, shinier and more liquid too. There didn't seem to be any conditioner or product in it either. It was like it had never been washed and was brand new and beautifully perfect.

The eggs!

Just in time she lifted the skillet off the stove. It hurt her wrist so she used both hands and jiggled them out onto the plate that already held the bacon. Stacy had already gotten out some honey dew and added two pieces, then added two more for herself.

Oh God, would she ever eat off Jason's plate again? Would they play fight about it and he'd tease her until she laughed and then have a wonderful make up kiss? Stacy almost dropped the plate and felt suddenly dizzy. It passed but left her feeling hollow. "Come eat," she said and put the plate on the buffet ledge between the kitchen and the living room. There was already a napkin and fork and knife and a cup of orange juice, the pulpy kind Jason liked that was like drinking pieces of orange as much as juice. Stacy hated it. Jason usually ate breakfast standing up because it let him put his laptop on the side and keep reading while he ate.

"Did you find anything?" she said, but from the kitchen with the half wall of the buffet between them where normally Stacy would have stood behind Jason, arms around his waist and head on his back. Her breakfast hug she called it.
 
Jason, pecked away at the keys, both grateful and terribly saddened by the new accessory adorning his head. It was a sign of the times to come, he knew. Bras would probably be next. He'd already learned the necessity of them the hard way. That made him think? Would make-up or jewelry ever be something he'd wear? He shook his head. Definitely not, body or no, he was still a guy and this body would just have to accept that fact.

His research proved rather disappointing, even scary. The company in Thailand was shady to begin with, apparently, something Jason had known going in, but didn't think it mattered. But now, apparently, the senior executives had fled the country to parts unknown and couldn't be found. The Thai government had shut down the remaining factories and distributorships, but that's bout all they could do. Without anyone to blame or prosecute or sue, those who had been affected were up the creek without a paddle. Jason sighed. He was going to miss that paddle.

At the sound of breakfast being finished, he hopped up and dragged the laptop over to the buffet and placed it in his usual spot. "Oh, this is more awkward," he said, as he realized his lost height made it harder to both eat and type while standing. He finally, closed the laptop and pushed it away. The eggs and bacon were delicious and he ate the bacon in his usual fashion, placing it above his head and tilting his head back, lowering the bacon in his mouth. Stacy had laughed the first time she saw it and pulled up a YouTube video of an otter eating. Sure enough, the motions were identical.

"I didn't find anything helpful. There are some big warnings put out by the Thai government though. Apparently, the drugs are meant to be taken in series. If I stop now, the body could reject the changes, like an organ transplant. Only, that doesn't turn me back. My body just rejects my body and I get sick and might die. So, I either keep taking the pills for a month or else." He took a swig of orange juice and licked the inside of his lips where the pulp built up.
 
It was eerie watching Jason, girl Jason, eat bacon just like boy Jason did. So many of her mannerisms were achingly familiar but jarred Stacy's mind to see them done by a busy brunette instead of her tall, muscular Jason. Disconcerting wasn't half strong enough to describe how it felt, but every action, every thing she did that Jason had done, cemented in Stacy's mind that this was Jason. Before he got halfway through the plate though, Stacy pulled it away. "If you're going to stay like this, you've got to learn some things. First thing is you can't eat like you used to. I mean...you're... You're a big girl. You've got hips and a butt and thighs and unless you want to pork up, you're done eating like Jason. You need to eat like me. A lot more like me," she emphasized. "I'm naturally skinny, and I'm not ever hungry, but you're going to get fat." If Jason, boy Jason, got fat he'd just look like a pudgy big bear. But if girl Jason got fat, she'd be, well, just a fat girl. Oh there was so much he had to learn.

She.

Girl Jason.

"Okay, look, I can't do this. I just can't. You're not Jason." Stacy held up one hand, the other rubbing hard at her forehead. "I mean you are but I can't call you Jason and I can't think of you as Jason. It's for the reals giving me a headache. We, you, need a girl name."
 
Jason blanched. His mouth fell open and he didn't know what to say. Give him a girl's name. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. The true reality of the situation hit him. He wasn't a he, anymore. He couldn't just keep thinking things would go back to the way they were, that things would be okay. The careful survival calm in him broke and he backed up, away from Stacy, away really from who he was.

He wasn't a guy anymore. She, Jason reminded herself, wasn't a guy anymore. She was a woman, with a woman's body, a woman's voice, a woman's...parts. And Stacy, Stacy didn't like girls. Stacy was already trying to distance herself from Jason, not even wanting to call her Jason anymore. How could Stacy want what she was now? She collided with the other wall of the apartment and curled in on herself on the floor. "I...I don't want to be a woman," she said, and the tears flowed freely. "I want to be your Jason. I know I'm not anymore, but..." And she couldn't say anything else as the emotions of the day overwhelmed her.
 
"Oh shit," Stacy said, but quietly and without any anger. She knew what to do, knew exactly how to go over to a girlfriend who was losing it and just let her cry it out, or cry it out with her. How to hold her and rub her back and rock back and forth and just be there for her. But this wasn't her girlfriend, this was Jason.

With tits.

"Shit," she said again and went into the bedroom to get a blanket. On the bed Stacy saw more confirmation that what had happened was true; the remnants of body hair that Jason had, well, shed for lack of a better word. Not wanting to clean it up, she modified her original plan and went into his closet and pulled down a spare blanket.

Jason would feel it settle over her shoulders, and then Stacy was kneeling beside Jason, one arm around the bigger girl, pulling them both closely together. "Shh. It's okay, honey. I know. You just cry, okay? I'm here, honey. I'm here." Stacy hugged Jason with her arm, and used her other hand to pull the blanket around the brunette so it left her feeling covered and loved and safe. For as long as it took, Stacy was determined to stay with Jason until tears washed everything better. Because Jason was a girl now.

And tears sometimes felt good, even when you didn't.

"Shh, honey. It's okay."
 
Jason held Stacy in her arms tightly for what seemed like hours, crying, sobbing, shivering, all the things one does when the stress is just too much and you need time and a good shoulder to recover. And Stacy was that shoulder. She was Jason's rock, and always had been. Jason wondered if she realized that, that strong, powerful Jason needed her as much as she needed Jason.

When she was finally done, and all of her crying was done, she looked up at Stacy. Her eyes were red and puffy and her nose was wet, and not just from tears. She reached up and touched Stacy's cheek, trailing it slowly. "Thank you," she said, before dropping her hand to her lap.

She took a deep breath and sighed. "Jennifer. It's what my parents always said they would name me if I was a girl. So, well..." She left the rest of that thought hanging. It didn't need to be said.
 
For a horrible second Stacy thought Jason was going to kiss her. The gesture, the hand on her cheek was so perfectly Jason, so familiar, and it usually led to a sweet kiss between the two of them. Stacy stopped breathing, afraid, and then let her breath whoosh out when Jason dropped her hand. Thank God. "Okay. So...Jennifer. I can do Jennifer and it's, it's easier to think of Jennifer than Jason when you're like this." When? Stacy was still hoping that whatever mess of medicine had caused Jason to change could be changed back. "It's cute. I was afraid you were going to pick a stripper name, like Savannah or Candy. I would have punched you."

"Come on. We need to fix your eye or they're going to keep swelling. Lay down on the couch," Stacy directed. "Go on, Jennifer."

Back in the kitchen, as she bustled through the cabinets, Stacy kept talking. "Never heat. Not for puffy eyes. It feels good but it makes them worse. You've got pretty eyes, just like you did when you were Jason, Jennifer. You need to take care of them." Stacy came back from the kitchen with two teabags she'd soaked in ice water. "Close your eyes, honey." The couch cushions dimpled slightly as Stacy sat in the hollow beside Jennifer's stomach. One at a time, hand cupped under them to keep them from dripping ice water, Stacy laid the chilly damp teabags over Jennifer's eyes. "Feel better? To cry I mean."
 
Jennifer laid down on the couch with a sigh. She'd seen the look on Stacy's face when she had brushed her cheek. It had been fear and trepidation. She bit her lip. What if Stacy never wanted to kiss her again? She may be a woman, but she still had a man's mind and a man's wants. And she still loved Stacy.

She tried not to show her anxiety as Stacy returned. The tea bags were cold, but they actually felt nice. She smiled. "You always take such good care of me. Remember when I got that cold last month and you came over and taught me to use that weird teapot thing? Well, I told you then and I'll tell you again. I'll listen to you, then my doctor."

She reached out and grabbed Stacy's hand again, giving it a squeeze. "Thanks again. I couldn't do this without you. I should take you out tonight." She winced. "God, that..." She trained off.

"Well, anyway, I'm stuck here until I get some clothes. I guess I could wear one of my shirts, but I don't think either my or your pants could possibly fit. Shoes either."
 
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