Ummm.

[the-star-fish.livejournal.com]

Clearly there is some weird sort of Jedi mind-flu going around, because I started this story this morning, without having read any of the others to which it bears a striking resemblance. Anyway.







Oh, yeah, Ray thought as he looked in the mirror. This'll do the trick for sure. He shook his head slightly to make the long earrings dance -- he couldn't do anything about the short hair, but a little bit of pretty was certainly called for now. He made a mental note to get some lip-gloss next time he was out.

He backed up to check the rest of the Look. Breasts swelled under his old black tank, one hell of a perky rack, if he did say so himself. His hips and ass were also nicely padded, filling out his old jeans in interesting ways.

He noticed then that his tattoo had changed too, evolving somehow into a heart-shape while still retaining the same Champion logo he'd had since graduation. Ray shook his head in admiration. That old gypsy woman was a fucking artist. Worth every penny.

A knock at the door made him jump, and he almost tripped on the way to answer it. Fraser was going to freak when he saw ...

"Hello, Ray."

Ray blinked.

"May I come in, please?" Fraser continued, shouldering past him in a most un-Fraser-like way.

"I ... you ..."

"Close the door, please; some men were following me making the most horrible suggestions ."

"Gah," said Ray, and closed the door. He tried again. "Girl," he said. "You're a girl."

Fraser turned to face him. "Yes," he said patiently, "as are you yourself."

"But I --"

"Although it behooves us to remember that the correct term is 'woman," Ray."

"But I --"

"May I have a glass of water?"

Ray stopped himself from saying But I again and just nodded, waving his hand in the direction of the kitchen. His knees went on strike all of a sudden, so he took them over to the love-seat for a sit-in while he tried to untangle his brain. When Fraser came over with two glasses of water, Ray took one and chugged it down, wiping his mouth on his arm reflexively and plonking the glass onto the coffee table.

"Okay," he said, "what the fuck?"

Fraser blinked at him, sipping his glass of water oh-so-delicately. "I thought you knew," he said after he swallowed. "It was on the news this morning. Everyone in the world changed gender overnight."


"Son of a bitch," said Ray. "She cheated me!"


"Pardon?"

Ray jumped to his feet and started pacing. "I went to see an old gypsy woman last night. She gave me a nasty-tasting potion to drink and said when I woke up, I'd be --" He stopped talking. This was the embarassing part. Spit it out, Kowalski, he thought.

He took a deep breath. "I'd be someone you might find attractive."

"Oh," said Fraser, sounding really, really surprised. "You ... and ... but I --" He rubbed his thumb across his eyebrow, which Ray interpreted as 'I'm mildly uncomfortable and want to be somewhere else.' To Fraser's credit, though, he didn't take off running like some other guys might've when they found out just how far overboard Ray was willing to go when he was obssessed.

Of course, Fraser wasn't exactly in the category of 'some other guys' right now, either. And he was talking again, so Ray tuned back in to reality.

"I thought you realized," Fraser was saying. "I assumed we were waiting for Ray Vecchio's return to act on what was, to me, at least, a fairly obvious attraction." And Fraser looked kind of pissed-off, too, which made no sense, unless --

"Fuck," said Ray, "you're queer."

Fraser nodded. "As the proverbial three-dollar bill," he said. "Although there was once --"

"Nnnnnnnnnnnn!" said Ray, shaking his head violently. "Not now. No Inuit stories."

"Well, strictly speaking, it wasn't --"

"Benton Fraser, don't you dare. I don't want to hear how in 1867 they decided to make a three-dollar bill, and that's not the point anyway, and ... and ... the point is, Fraser, the point we are straying from is -- do you find me attractive?"

"As a woman?"

Ray closed his eyes. You knew he was going to say that, he told himself. You can't kill him. He looked at Fraser, who was starting to squirm. "Yes. As a woman."

"Well ... no."

"What?"

Fraser winced, whether at Ray's tone or having so clearly said the wrong thing, it wasn't clear. "I, well, it's just that --"

Ray made the hand-twirling gesture for 'get on with it already.'

"You're rather ... butch."

Of all the things Ray might have been expecting, that ... wasn't one. "But ... but ... I thought you liked men."

Fraser did the finger-under-the-collar thing, which just looked weird without the tunic. "I do. And occasionally women. But currently you're ... neither."

"We have to fix me, then," Ray said, "turn me into one or the other."

"I don't see how, no one knows how or why it happened in the first place."

Ray really wished he weren't too butch to cry. He settled for pounding his fist on the arm of the love-seat repeatedly. When it started to hurt, he stopped.

"This sucks, Fraser. A lot."

Fraser nodded. "And there's one thing I don't think you've fully considered yet."

Ray let his head fall back against the back of the love-seat. "What? What could possibly be worse than me going through all this just to be told it was completely pointless and stupid?"

"The fact that in something less than a month, Lieutenant Welsh is going to have PMS."







* except Ces. It's all her fault.

Comments

[maubast.livejournal.com]

"The fact that in something less than a month, Lieutenant Welsh is going to have PMS."

Oh. Hell.

Talk about *spew*.

LMAO! Thank you!

[the-star-fish.livejournal.com]

Heeheehee. Glad you liked it.