A Change of Orders               by: Tigger              © 1998

 

Lieutenant Commander Allain Charboneau stood quietly just outside the one of the entry doors to the small, enclosed room. He was trying to be unobtrusive, but knew that was impossible. The young watch officer inside the curtained space had known that U.S.S. Scorpion's Engineer Officer had been in the propulsion plant spaces within seconds of Allain sticking his head through the watertight door that separated the forward compartments of the ship from the aft spaces that housed the ship's propulsion and power generation systems. "Engineer's Aft!" had surely been passed over the communications circuit to the Maneuvering Room, or simply "Maneuvering", by at least one of the enlisted watchstanders - probably more.

Of course, everyone knew he'd be back there. The Captain had just given permission for them to start up the ship's reactor plant. The ship might belong to the Captain, but the reactor was all Allain's, and it was his job to make sure that everything was done correctly. With nuclear reactors, *correctly* meant *safely*, and the alternative to "safely" simply did not bear considering. Not that there was even the most remote likelihood of anything going wrong. The young officer supervising the procedure in Maneuvering was top notch, as were the enlisted sailors on watch with him.

Merde, but he was happy to be going back to sea. They'd been here at the shipyard for almost a year, and everyone was bloody tired of having to deal with the bureaucracy of the repair department and the nuclear regulatory types. Allain mused that even if they spent two months out of every three at sea, he'd probably see more of his family than he had in the months here at the shipyard.

He turned his attention back to his crew, watching them go about their duties. They were as excited to be getting the hell out of Dodge as he was, but they still took the time to check procedures and to do the job right. God, but he was a lucky man!

The startup went well, and soon the reactor was generating the power that would change Scorpion from several thousand tons of barely floating metal into one of the most powerful warships ever devised.

"ENGINEER, REPORT TO MANEUVERING!" The young officer's voice had a touch of panic as it blared over the engineering announcing circuit.

Allain was inside the room in moments and immediately saw the problem. The measured power from the reactor was wrong - it was way too high for the electrical demand on the turbo- alternators. "Shutdown, Lieutenant!" Allain ordered, but power continued to be wrong even as the normal reactor shutdown procedures were commenced. "Scram the reactor," he ordered with a calmness he did not feel.

The ship vibrated with the force of heavy, neutron absorbing rods of metal being dropped into the reactor pile. Finally, the indications were back to normal. Normal for a non-operational plant, that is.

An abnormal quiet fell upon the Maneuvering Room watchstanders, as each tried to find something to explain what had just happened. The surreal stillness was only broken when the senior enlisted watchstander appeared, highly agitated, at the door. "Engineer, you better come to the reactor view port. I don't know what the hell that is, but it does not belong there!" Allain tore out of the room and followed the older man to the heavily leaded glass view port.

"It" definitely did not belong there. "There" was amid the various control connections on top of the pressure vessel that enclosed the reactor pile. Something, painted to look like it did belong there, was now hanging from the wires and cables that connected it to whatever provided it power. Had it been there when Allain had checked the heavily shielded chamber before locking it closed?

"I never saw it, Engineer, not in all the times I looked inside." the grizzled chief petty officer told him. "It must've been shocked loose when the plant was scrammed."

"Call the skipper. Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide that inside. We need to get inside there and get whatever that is out. And we need an explosive ordnance disposal team standing by, too." There had been briefings about the increased terrorist threat against the nuclear powered ships. No one had much believed that they could get past the security, but it looked like they had.

The Captain, a tall New Englander, strode up to them. Allain told him what had happened, and what he feared. "Too soon, Eng. The plant has not been shut down long enough. We can't go in until the radiation levels go down."

"Skipper, if that is what we both think it might be, I don't see that we have a choice. Look, by the time we can get the door open, the levels will be down far enough that a few seconds inside, just to look at it, won't be fatal. If it isn't a bomb, I come out and we wait for the levels to go down. If it is a bomb . . ." Allain let that one slide. The skipper knew what that meant. Someone, perhaps more than just one someone, would have to get the bomb out of there, no matter what the cost. What had Mr. Spock said in that old Star Trek movie about the good of the many? Allain could not remember, but he understood the bottom line.

The Captain handed over the key he wore around his neck. "Who goes in?"

Allain shrugged. "My plant, Skipper. That makes it my job. Besides, I am as close as we have to a bomb expert."

The preparations were made and the door opened. The Captain looked at the Geiger counter's reading and shook his head. "Less than a minute of safe stay time, Allain. Don't fuck around in there."

"Aye aye, sir", Allain muttered. Swallowing hard to put his heart back down in its normal place, he slipped in the opened door and slid down the ladder. He moved quickly over to where the hanging tube swayed in the overhead near the pressure vessel. Allain's heart sank when he looked inside the tube. It was a bomb. He listened to it for a few precious seconds, but could hear nothing over the beating of his heart pounding wildly in his ears. Grimly, he accepted what had to be done, and then yelled up to the Captain.

He took a few more seconds to check out the wires. He found the power wire and clipped that, then pulled the rest of the wires free. Fortunately, the device was pretty simple and straightforward - evidently the saboteur had not counted on it being found. On the other hand, the package was a lot heavier than it looked, and he staggered under its weight, but recovered and moved unsteadily to the ladder.

A rope had been tossed down and he quickly tied it to the device and guided it up the ladder. His head was starting to spin. Stress, he thought, and gamely worked to keep the device moving steadily upward without hitting anything.

He came out into the safe part of the ship in time to see the device leaving, being carried by two men in the camouflaged utilities of a Navy Explosive Ordnance Disposal Team. Only then did he let himself look down at his watch. He'd been in there for almost ten minutes.

Too long, he thought with cold detachment as the world began to spin sickeningly about him. *Much* too long.

And Allain Charboneau's world went black.

~----------~

Pain - dark, biting, unrelenting pain drove him back to wakefulness. He was in a hospital room, IV's in each arm.

"You are awake, are you? Wasn't sure if you would come back. Do you know what happened to you?" a man in a white lab coat asked.

Allain nodded weakly and instantly regretted the movement. "Yes." he said. The sound was not meant to be a whisper, but he did not have the strength for anything louder. "I got a heavy dose pulling that bomb out of the reactor containment room. How bad, doc?"

"Bad. You aren't going to make it. You are already showing signs of advanced radiation poisoning. Your blood work results are. . . " he hesitated. "Well, lets just say it is a minor miracle that you are lucid at all."

"The bomb?"

"Neutralized. You beat the bastards that did this, my friend."

"Well, if you have to go, that is a pretty good reason, I guess."

"Commander, I will be up front with you. As it stands right now, you will be dead within twenty-four hours. I am being harsh about this because we don't have much time. There is an experimental procedure that might, just might, mind you, save your life. We have never tested it on humans, but it has worked on some lab animals. Basically, we reprogram and regenerate your genetic code. If it works, everything that has been damaged or is already dead from exposure will regenerate."

Allain tried to speak and couldn't. He fought back a coughing fit. "And if it doesn't work?" he finally managed to rasp out.

"You will die." was the frank answer. "But we think that your chances of surviving a genetic transition are at least one out of five. If we don't try it, your chances are exactly zero."

Allain thought about his family, his wife Jeanne and his little girl, Nicole. "Do it, doc!" he ordered, just in time - just before the world started to spin away once more.

In a swirling miasma of dark and light, the sputtering spark of life that was still Allain Charboneau floated. In that undefined nowhere, he thought he heard bits and pieces of words and conversations.

". . .inject him quickly . . ."

". . .works fast, doesn't it. . ."

". . .Doctor? I need you. . .STAT!"

". . .Oh . . . my . . .god. . ."

". . . in a hurry. . .wrong serum. . ."

". . . .HOW!?!?!?"

~--------------~

The room was dark when Allain awoke once more. He still felt weak, and more than a little strange, but no longer ill. A trickle of perspiration tickled its way down his nose. That is when he discovered that he was restrained. Soft bands around his ankles, wrists and his waist kept him from moving at all in his bed.

He was about to call out, when a figure moved into his field of vision from the shadows beyond his bed. It was the doctor who had offered him life. "Hello." he said softly, "and welcome back to the world of the living. Sorry about the restraints, but you have been on IV's for a while now, and we could not take the chance of you pulling them out. Mouth dry?" Allain nodded. The older man took a glass and fished out an ice chip that he dropped into Allain's mouth.

The moisture was heavenly. "Did it. . ." he sucked harder to moisten his throat so he could ask. He HAD to ask. "Did it work? Will I live?"

"Yes, my young friend. You are completely cured of the radiation sickness. Now, you are going to need complete bed rest while we adjust your body's electrolytes and get some nutrition into you that is suitable for being awake. Tomorrow we will talk."

The doctor slipped a needle into one of the IV's and Allain felt himself starting to drift almost immediately. Strange drug, he thought. Must be why my arms feel so short. . . .

~---------~

Medical Log Entry:

I am very relieved to have Dr. Whitaker assigned to this case now that Commander Charboneau has beaten the odds and come out of the coma. We have come much too far to lose this patient now.

End Medical Log Entry

~------------~

He "heard" the voices before he was really sufficiently awake to comprehend what they were saying. For some reason, he wanted to understand and that is what brought him slowly up out of the drug-induced fog.

The first thing he was sure of was that there were two voices, one male and familiar, the other lighter and unfamiliar. Slowly, the words began to form meaning in Allain's head.

". . . going to need a lot of help dealing with this. . ."

"You're telling *me* that? Dammit, Nathaniel, *I'm* the shrink here - you keep telling me how you slept through that cycle of your internship. Christ, there's no precedent for handling something like this."

"So, take your best shot, Janelle. You are here because you are the best." So, Allain thought, the other voice is female.

"My best shot is to keep her drugged for the next ten years, but we can't do that. Every other option could lead to her losing it big time."

"You know my thoughts on this."

"Direct as always. Probably why you are a surgeon." the female voice answered with a soft laugh. "Certainly the simplest method. And if she isn't able to handle what has happened?"

"As you told me, the alternative isn't any better. The truth certainly does have the advantage of simplicity."

"You're probably right." was the resigned answer. "So lovely, isn't she?"

A cool, fine-fingered hand stroked across Allain's forehead, and he moaned softly in pleasure at the contact. With an effort, he forced his eyes open.

"Well, hello there." said the unfamiliar voice. Allain lifted his eyes in the direction of the voice and slowly, the figure of a tall, strongly built woman of mature years came into focus. Her hand came back to check his forehead again. "My name is Janelle Whitaker, Allain."

"And although we have met twice before," came the familiar male voice, "We have not been properly introduced. My name is Evans, Commander - Nathaniel Evans. How are you feeling?"

Evans put his hand underneath the blankets and Allain felt a strong, gentle grip on his wrist pulse point. "Okay, I guess. I am here, alive, when I did not expect to be." What was wrong with his voice? "Doctor! My voice. What has happened to me?"

The woman moved to the head of the bed and let Evans move up into Allain's field of vision. "Commander, do you remember what I told you we were going to do to you?" He said forcefully. "We gave you a treatment that rewrote your entire genetic code. Your voice is different because *you* are different. The only parts of you that is still Allain are your name and your mind."

Allain's eyes went wide as he struggled to cope with that. The cool hand returned with it, a surprising degree of calm. He swallowed once or twice before giving a brief nod of acceptance. "How much?" He rasped out.

"How much what, Commander?" Evans returned.

"How much have I changed?" was the quavering response.

"Quite a bit, Allain." came the soft voice above and behind him. "And not very much. Physically, just about everything about you is different. But your memories, your thoughts, the things that made you what you were and are - those are still there, aren't they?"

Allain relaxed, just a bit, and let his mind float back, reliving times in the life of the Louisiana farm boy who went off to Annapolis to get the education his parents could not afford to give him. Tears of relief prickled behind his eyelids. "Thank you." he whispered up before turning his eyes back on the older doctor. "Is that why I feel so funny? Like my arms and legs don't seem to reach anymore? I feel so . . . so short."

Surprise showed in the Doctor's eyes before he smiled gently. "You are about five feet even now, Commander. That is more than a foot shorter than you remember being, so it is reasonable to expect that you will feel strange in these bones. We would have tried to make you a little closer to your old self, but you were almost gone when we made the decision to administer the treatment. We rushed and we used a different gene mix than we planned on. It's going to some time for you to . . . well, to learn how to move that smaller self around."

"Is that why I am still restrained, Doctor?" he asked as he tugged futilely against the snug bands on his arms and legs.

Evans seemed to hesitate before answering. "For the most part, Commander. Now, Janelle is here to help you make the adjustments to your new situation. She is a psychologist and we have brought her in on this to be here for you when you need her. Okay?"

"Okay. When can I have my hands back? I will need to practice with them if I am going to learn how to move them again."

"Soon. Let's take this slow, all right? We don't know have a lot of experience with the results of this process yet, either. You have some very odd plumbing installed down below there," he said pointing in the general vicinity of Allain's groin, "To handle waste elimination and that sort of thing. We don't want you rolling over and hurting yourself before we have had the chance to take that stuff out."

"All right." then another thought came to him. "Could I have a mirror, Doctor? I'd kind of like to see my new face?"

This time the Whitaker did hesitate, and Allain saw the man look up at the woman before answering. "We'll. . . we'll see about that." He coughed nervously and then plunged on. "Now, you just relax there. Your body has been through a hell of a strain, and needs all the rest we can give it. There will be a nurse with you, so if you want something, just ask. I will check in with you later."

"So will I, Allain," the lady psychologist said.

~--------~

The United States Navy does not make a habit of giving the responsibility for their reactor-powered ships to stupid people. Allain had seen and heard his visitors' hesitancy when he'd asked any direct questions concerning his physical condition. They were obviously working very hard to hide something from him. The only question they had really answered was that he would live. Surely that was enough for now, wasn't it?

Oh, and they had told him he was only five feet tall. *That* was going to take some getting used to - he had not been that short since sixth grade. So much had changed - his size, his voice. Well, at least he did not have the problems of that person the doctors were discussing when he woke up since he had distinctly heard them refer to that patient as a "she" and a "her".

Or did he? Allain's eyes went wide in the darkened room as his highly trained, analytical mind suddenly latched onto that question. Just the facts, Al, he thought as he fought to calm himself, just the facts.

You are a guy, his mind screamed, they can't change that!

Yeah, an ominously dark voice answered, but you've heard that soft little voice of yours, and have sensed how small this new little body of yours really is, even if they have not let you *see* it.

But they can't do that, not for real. This is not some Rod Serling episode or a movie about a guy who is reincarnated as a woman because he was a creep.

Sure they can't, Allie-cher, just like they can't take a six foot two inch, two hundred pound guy and shrink him to five feet nothing. Oh, and didn't the doctor say that they had brought her in specifically to help you? What patient do you *really* think they were discussing, Allain? Or perhaps you should start answering to Elaine.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooo!" and the sound turned into a scream of denial - a scream that what was left of Allain Charboneau's mind had to admit, was as feminine as any of the B-movie sirens whose videos populated the movie locker aboard his ship.

Lights flashed on and two white-garbed men ran into the room. Even as each moved to one side of the bed to check Allain's restraints, Doctor Evans strode into the room. He took one look at the terror on Allain's face, and ordered one of the orderlies to sedate the patient.

Allain's last rational thought as the foggy darkness took him was that there could be no other explanation. Somehow it *had* to be true. He was now a she.

~------------~

Medical Log Entry:

The patient suffered a attack of some type, and was nearly hysterical when I arrived on the scene. She was too irrational to calm and therefore, I had to sedate her. A review of the security tapes gave no indication of what may have caused the event. Dr. Whitaker believes that the patient may have discerned her gender change, but I cannot understand how she could have done that.

Dr. Whitaker has decided to disclose (as much as our security watchdogs will permit, anyway) what has happened to her and why. We will administer a mild tranquilizing agent before this takes place so that the patient will not have another anxiety attack.

Unfortunately, the treatment continues to run at only about a twenty percent survival rate on test animals, and the gender changing attempts are lower than that. Therefore, since she is alive and, by every indication healthy, another treatment to restore her masculinity is out of the question. I don't envy Janelle this duty.

End Medical Log entry.

~------------~

"How are you feeling?" Janelle asked softly as Allain's eyes fluttered open.

Allain thought for a moment and was surprised how hard it was to think. "I feel dopey," he said finally, "like the time the ship's doc gave me something for pain and it turned out to be stronger than he thought."

Janelle chuckled softly. "That is because you are dopey. We have given you something that will help you relax, but stay awake." Allain nodded in understanding, but it was so hard to move his head. "Do you remember what happened after Dr. Evans and I left you, Allain?"

Again, Allain had to struggle to get his brain to work, but soon enough, seemingly unrelated mosaic bits of memory coalesced into a more complete picture. Oddly, this time, the realization did not seem to bother him . . or was that more correctly, did not seem to bother *her*. It was like watching a movie in his . . no, in *her* head. "Yes," Allain finally answered. "I remember."

The female psychologist smiled down at Allain gently. "And do you remember why you became so agitated?"

Allain giggled drunkenly at the word "agitated". "Doc, I don't know what I was, but agitated doesn't even begin to come close. Whatever I was, it was because I had concluded that I was no longer a guy," Allain's concentration seemed to peel back the veil of fog in his head just a bit, at least enough for him to realize that he was taking this awfully calmly all of a sudden.

"That's the drug we gave you," she replied when he voiced that observation aloud. "You need to deal with what has happened to you, and the relaxant we gave you will keep you from hurting yourself. You are lucid," She gave him a half smile, "well, mostly lucid, but you can't have an anxiety attack until that stuff wears off."

"What happened to me?" Allain managed to ask plaintively. "And *how*?"

~----------~

Well, Elaine thought to him. . . no, to *her*self after Dr. Whitaker had left, he, or rather *she* *was* still alive. He still found it hard to think of herself in the feminine, but that was to be expected. Allain Charboneau had been a male for almost thirty years, but now, *Elaine* Charboneau was a female, and from what she'd just been told, was going to be one for the rest of her life. Which was likely going to be quite a long time since whatever they had done to her had not only made him female, it had regressed his genetic and physiological age to late adolescence. This body was, at most, eighteen years old. They would not know for sure until the blood work came back.

And it would likely kill him..DAMMIT.. would likely kill *her* if they tried to change anything using another dose of that treatment stuff.

Elaine hoped she was at least eighteen years old. *She'd* been voting for years and it was going to be bad enough not being old enough to have beer or glass of wine for three more years. Unfortunately, there was another, equally likely, far less pleasing possibility that she might have to face. She might be, from a physical development and maturation perspective, substantially younger than that minimum voting age. Merde, but she fervently hoped she would not have to deal with the hormonal tortures of puberty on top of suddenly finding him. . .dammit AGAIN.. *her*self on the wrong side of the yin and yang equation.

Actually, the *planned* treatment would have made him over into another, healthy male. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to any one else in the super secret research project that had developed the treatment, one member of the team had decided to play with the process. As a lark, and never expecting that particular vial would ever be used, this damned genius had "programmed" his dream girl into that serum. Then, this absent minded professor, instead of destroying the stuff, had put the vial away, in the same damn locker as the approved treatments.

In the hell-for-leather rush to save Allain's life, the team had pulled out the first vial of treatment they'd seen in the storage cabinet, thinking it would make him into a fairly average, fairly normal male. One small problem, however. There was absolutely NOTHING remotely normal OR male about the person Elaine was in the process of becoming.

Perhaps the biggest shock of the day came when Janelle had shown her patient the computer simulation of what Elaine would look like when she "finished cooking". Just what she needed, Elaine thought sourly for what had to be the hundredth time. On top of everything else, she was going to some oversexed, overaged adolescent nerd's wet dream come true.

On the bright side, however, the young man had paid attention to important details other than just those that tickled his libido. Except for the very petite frame, Elaine was going to be a superb physical specimen, with excellent cardiovascular endurance, a super high metabolism rate, outstanding strength potential and very good physical coordination.

Her brain seemed to work pretty good, too, Elaine mused. After the tranquilizing drugs had finally worn off, she'd tested herself by recalling and solving some of the classical problems of nuclear physics in her head. She was greatly relieved that she could still work out the equations and that she seemed to be able to remember everything of her life as Allain.

That had been a relief. Since there was almost nothing remaining of Allain Charboneau's genetic pattern, Elaine had been worried about what was "in" her head. Neither doctor had any clue about whether her new brain was left or right handed, or whether all those little memory connections would still work after being genetically rebuilt. Evidently, they still did. How that happened since her "new" brain had not had all the experiences of her old brain with which to build those pathways, no one could explain. She was just thankful that she still had at least *that* much of her old life.

And that realization, more than anything else including the drugs, had started Allain down the path toward acceptance of her new fate. As Janelle had said, she was still who she had always been because she had not lost those memories. Allain had always been noted for being levelheaded in times of crisis, and Elaine was determined to maintain that reputation. Besides that, she *was* alive.

With that commitment made, she sighed and shimmied herself into a somewhat more comfortable position. They'd left the restraints in place, promising her a little more freedom later if she was "a good little girl," Elaine had snarled at that because it was the expected response, but she'd recognized Janelle's pointed jibe as an attempt to lighten the mood.

Strangely enough, it had even worked.

~----------~

Medical Log Entry:

Based on Dr. Whitaker's recommendations, Commander Charboneau will begin limited physical therapy tomorrow. For the time being, this will be very limited as her muscles are very weak from long disuse.

End Medical Log

~-------------~

The next morning, Evans and a new, *female* nurse arrived just before breakfast. With quiet efficiency, they removed that "special plumbing" he had warned Elaine about. Elaine had not wanted to watch, so they had made a tent of the bed sheets and worked behind it, out of her field of vision. The sensations were quite enough to deal with without having to see her "unmaled" crotch for the first time as well. Odd that she had not "felt" that lack before.

"We used a spinal blocking agent," Evans told her when she'd asked him about that afterwards. "Same kind of thing that we used to use on most child births," He grinned as he snapped off the latex gloves and tossed them onto the tray held by the nurse. "We did not want you feeling or rather, *not* feeling what used to be there until you were strong enough to handle being told. You surprised us there, by the way, by figuring it out so quickly and by how well you are dealing with this so far."

"Well, I woke up sooner than you expected and besides, neither of you should give up your day jobs to become actors. As to how well you think I am taking it, well, don't be too sure. Half the time I am resigned and just happy to be alive, but the other half? Terrified comes close."

The nurse returned with a breakfast tray of cold cereal and a cup with a straw. While she set up the bed tray, Evans began unbuckling the straps restraining her arms and wrists. "Not very appetizing, I am afraid, but you need nourishment that your body won't reject. You also need to learn how to use your new body, so until we figure out how dexterous you are, we will keep the knives and forks in the kitchen."

Even with that subtle warning to help prepare her for the worst, Elaine was mortified at how clumsy she was using the simple spoon. She was glad there wasn't a mirror in the room yet, because she had more food on her than in her. Even getting the straw properly into her mouth was a challenge. She probably looked like Nikki did when Jeanne had run out of their daughter's preferred pears and had tried to substitute bananas.

Reminded of her family, she looked up at the Doctor. "Will my family be able to visit me here, Doctor Evans?"

The doctor's sad expression answered her question before he could begin to form the words. "Is it because this is a secret facility of some type, Doctor?" Elaine asked quietly, disappointment stealing her appetite.

Evans sighed, rose, and walked over to a sideboard cabinet. Still without making a sound, he fiddled with some instruments and files before picking something up and turning back to face his patient. "Commander, what you just said is true, but that is not the real reason you will not be seeing your family."

The door swung open to admit Janelle, who strode into the room looking flushed and breathing heavily. Glancing at Evans, she then moved over to sit down on the bed where she could look Elaine in the eye.

"You might as well give me the worst of it, folks, because not knowing what the problem is will only make me crazy," she said with a lightness of tone she did not feel.

"Elaine, please look at this file," Janelle said kindly, as she passed a manilla file folder into Elaine's trembling fingers.

The folder fumbled in her uncoordinated hands, but she managed to get the file open. What she saw made her eyes go wide in amazement and disbelief. Each page of the dossier was a cutout from a major newspaper, and most of the cutouts were banner headline articles.

 

"Terrorists Sabotage Nuke Sub - Officer Dies Stopping Atomic Disaster"

"Navy Orders All Nuclear Ships to Sea Pending Investigation"

"President Awards Posthumous Medal Of Honor to Sub Hero"

"Nuke Sub Plot Investigation Continues - No New Leads"

One of the articles was of his funeral and showed pictures of his wife and daughter at a cemetery, being escorted by a four star admiral. The article said that his casket had been lead lined and sealed for the protection of the mourners.

"Merde," she said in shocked confusion. "She . . my wife. . she doesn't know? that. . .that I'm . . .that is, what really happened to me?"

"That you are alive, well and a woman now? No, Elaine. She doesn't, because for a while there, only the 'woman' part of that was of any certainty. And we did not think it was fair to give her hope when we did not know if you would survive," Janelle answered.

"We almost lost you four times during the transition, Commander," Evans added apologetically. "When you finally showed signs of coming out of the coma, well, . . . there were other . . . . difficulties."

"Like my sanity?" Elaine asked bitterly, looking accusingly at the psychologist.

"That was part of our problem, dear," rejoined Janelle gently. "The other major issue was the time factor."

"Time factor? What do you mean - time factor?"

Evans moved around the bed, so that Janelle was no longer between him and his patient. He nodded to his colleague and then she continued. "Elaine, you were in a coma for a very long time while your body rebuilt itself all the way down to the cellular level," She said very quietly.

"Define 'a very long time', please," Elaine ordered in icy tones that were pure career naval officer for all her voice's youthfully feminine timbre.

Elaine felt Dr. Evans grasp her arm, but she did not take her eyes off Dr. Whitaker. "Fourteen months, Elaine. You have been unconscious for more than a year."

"Oh . . . . my . . . . . God," Elaine said before the world began to spin again. She'd been so shocked, she had not even felt the prick from the needle that Evans had palmed behind his back until it was too late.

~------------~

Medical Log Entry, Dr. Evans.

We had hoped to delay this revelation until later in the subject's recovery, but once again, she has surprised us. This leads to several very touchy questions which Naval Intelligence really does not want broached. Unfortunately for them, this is a medical issue, and the President has ordered that this patient's medical needs supercede security issues. Good thing the President decided to award the Medal when those terrorists leaked the story of the attempted sabotage to the press. Now, I have all the leverage I need to ensure that this patient makes a complete recovery. And if that means contact with her family in contravention of the desires of the Special Security detail leaders guarding both Elaine and her wife and child, then so be it. A lot depends on how she deals with this when the sedative wears off.

Medical Log Entry, Dr. Whitaker.

One issue became clearer as a result of today's crisis: Elaine is still resisting acceptance of her physical sex change at very deep levels. This became obvious when she was unable to even say that she was a woman while asking if her spouse knew about the transition.

"Gender" as opposed to physical primary sex characteristics (i.e., what kind of gonads are installed or what type of chromosome pair a body has) is a very difficult topic to deal with. Throw sexuality into that mix and it really becomes uncertain. Right now, we can only say that Elaine is physically fully female from a *sex* perspective. It is obvious, however, that the mind, the id is still all male. Moreover, that male self image is, subconsciously at least, strenuously fighting confrontation and acceptance of the being a member of the female sex.

While I fully support the theory that Elaine should be free to live as her own self perception dictates and to live her life as she sees fit, that does pose a multitude of problems for her. Failure to accept, at least at some basic level, her intrinsic and extrinsic femininity could isolate her. She needs to confront those new and frightening aspects of her being, so that if she does choose to reject the all the feminine trappings of our society and to live such a lonely life, she will do so with as much profound knowledge as I can help her find.

I accept that there are a huge number of women who have decided that they cannot be true to themselves and conform to societies expectations. Whether that is due to their inherent sexuality, the self perception or whatever the cause, they have elected to stand apart from the mass. My problem with Elaine making such a decision, right now in any case, is that she does not have the lifetime of experience that led these other women to make that choice for themselves.

The question is: how do I get her to realize that and open herself up to the types of experiences that would give her the knowledge she needs to make an informed decision?

End Log Entry

~-----------~

When she awoke, the two physicians had been there for her, had helped her begin to deal with the situation of her family, and had shown her the records that the Naval Investigative Service had developed while providing discreet surveillance and protection for Jeanne and Nikki. There had been a very real danger that whichever terrorist group that had threatened the ship might attempt to wreak vengeance on the family members of the fallen hero. The NIS was determined to prevent that.

They had moved back to Louisiana to be near Allain's and Jeanne's families. Jeanne was working part time as a librarian, and Nikki was too young to realize that she used to have a daddy. She was enrolled in a pre-school program and by all accounts, having a wonderful time.

"They are all right? I mean, *really* all right? They are okay financially, and they're safe?" she'd finally been able to ask through a throat choked anew with fresh tears.

Evans was the one who answered, attired for the first time in Elaine's memory in the uniform of a Navy Captain, Medical Corps. "They are fine, Allain. Some very important people in the National Security business have made it top priority to keep them safe. As for their financial status, this country takes care of the families of heros, my friend. Your wife is working because she wants to work, not because she needs the money."

A harsh bark of laughter, tinged with a sob, tore from Elaine's throat. "God, that almost sounds funny. My *wife*. She can't be my wife anymore, doc. We're both Catholic, and the Catholic church does not recognize same sex marriages. They'd annul the union."

"Do you want us to find a way to tell her you are alive, Commander?"

The part of Elaine that was still Allain wanted to scream "Hell *yes*!", but she stifled that knee jerk reaction. She loved Jeanne, but she also knew her very well. "Jeanne couldn't handle this, Doc. - no way, and besides, she has already grieved for me" Elaine seemed to shake herself for a moment as she reconsidered her words, "that is, she has grieved for Allain. If she'd found out I was alive and Elaine, . . . Allain would still be dead to her, only she'd have to grieve all over again," Tears were cascading down her cheeks now, as she, too, grieved for a dead relationship, a lost-forever love.

Janelle spoke for the first time. "Don't you think you are being a little harsh on her, Elaine? She might surprise you."

Elaine gave a sad little smile. "No, I am not. Jeanne was planning to take the veil and enter a missionary convent order when I first met her," A watery chuckle hiccuped through the spate of words. "She wanted to be the Cajun Mother Theresa. Took me more than a year of hard courting to convince her that giving up that vocation to marry me was the right decision. She's still very devout. No, it is better for Allain to stay dead."

"Perhaps when you are more acclimated you could go visit. Maybe the spooks could set up an identity for you - you know - a distant unknown cousin or something," Nathaniel offered.

"Don't know much about Cajuns, do you, Doc?" Elaine responded. "No such thing as an unknown family member to a Cajun. Family is very tight in my part of Louisiana. The few members of the clan who don't live there are known to everyone else who still does. If I tried to pass myself off as a cousin, I'd get run out of town on a rail."

"There are other ways, Elaine," Janelle offered. "Maybe you could move there. Get a job with some local company or a government office. Get to know your family as a friend. It is not the same as being a parent, but at least you would get to watch your little girl grow up. Don't give up yet, all right? It may take time, but let's give the spooks a chance to work on it, Okay?"

~-------------~ Medical Log Entry - Dr. Whitaker

The patient's beliefs and revelations about her family are disturbing, and although she seems to be confronting them, I remain concerned. I have ordered round the clock observation of the patient for the foreseeable future to ensure she does not do herself harm.

I am having a great deal of difficulty "reading" this patient. Part of that is that when I am with her, I "see" a young woman. For all of my training about treating *individuals*, my first instinctual reaction is to treat her as a young woman.

Other times, I remember that "she" was once a mature "he" and try to treat her like I would a mature male.

Unfortunately, she is a highly unpredictable combination of both the young puberty-ridden woman and the mature male mind. I feel like I am juggling eggs and hand grenades at the same time. One moment she is very fragile, almost ready to crack under the strain of being what she has become, and the next, she is almost explosively volatile, ready to fight.

This is not a good situation, but all I can do is be there for her and try to earn her trust.

End Medical Log

~------------~

The shock of that revelation required time to heal, and Elaine's still developing hormones made her moody and emotional. Janelle worked tirelessly, trying to help her "young" charge deal with the worst of it. Elaine was impressed that Janelle always seemed to come visiting just when the dark thoughts started creeping into her head.

What also helped was having to work so hard at being mobile again, or as Elaine angrily described it after yet another fall, at *trying* to be mobile again. It was not an easy process, although as Elaine remarked in one of her more rational moments, it was an experience she might be able to look back upon and laugh about some time in the future . . . . certainly not more than about fifty years!

The root cause of her difficulties was that Elaine did not "know" how to walk on *her* two feet or how to use *her* hands. Elaine "knew" how to move *Allain*, but there was a *huge* coordination mismatch between Allain's brain/muscle memory that was trying to direct her movements, and Elaine's new body. Instinctive movements were usually ineffectual, often slap-stick funny and sometimes painful. Getting out of bed the first time was the initial painful movement. Elaine just "hopped" out of bed as Allain had for the last thirty or so years of his life.

Unfortunately, *Elaine's* feet were almost a foot further above the floor because of her greatly reduced height compared to Allain. Only Dr. Evans' quick action had saved her from injury.

Her first "walk" had not been much better. Her muscles were weak from the long coma. There had been therapy while she'd been in fugue, even electro- stimulation to prevent too much atrophy, but the honest truth was that Elaine was a not even a 98 pound weakling - she was more like an 89 lb one. Coupling that weakness with a center of gravity that was in the "wrong" place, and she'd barely managed two faltering steps before pitching over into the arms of the attending nurse.

"I guess this means karate is out," Elaine quipped after the nurse had finished with her and had left the room. Inside, she was disgusted that she'd only managed one pitifully inept circumnavigation of her ten by fifteen foot room before the nurse had gently helped her back into the now-lowered hospital bed.

"You did karate?" Nate Evans asked curiously. "This isn't one of those old jokes where the patient asks the doctor if he'll ever be able to play the piano again when he couldn't before the surgery?"

Elaine chuckled at the jest as she settled into the bed. "Yes, I 'did' karate. Earned my first degree black belt when I was fifteen, and got all the way up to fourth degree while I was at the Academy. Used to take a lesson when ever I could while we were in port, and would do katas between the main engines while we were at sea."

"Katas?" Janelle asked. "What's a katas?"

"Kata - singular, Jan. Ritual shadow boxing. You imagine attackers and respond to them physically as if they were real. Some folks elevate that to a thing of real beauty, almost like ballet."

"Well, Elaine," Evans said after digesting that, "There's no reason you can't continue that once you get yourself built up a bit. It would probably do you a lot of good in the areas of coordination, strength and conditioning. Want me to arrange something?"

For the first time since learning of Allain's "death", genuine enthusiasm sparkled in Elaine's otherwise weary eyes. "God, yes," she breathed with a sigh. "I really need the focus and the discipline very badly right now," then she hesitated, "only. . ."

"Only what, Commander?" Evans asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Make sure it is a real sensei and not one of those fly-by- night kung fu chop- shoppers. I need the mental and spiritual discipline at least as much as I need the physical training."

~-------------~

Elaine lay in her bed hurting in places she did not know she had muscles to hurt. Of course, she mused with an incipient giggle, that just might be because she *did* have muscles in places that Allain never had. That being the case, she sure as hell knew all about them now. One thing had not changed - who ever called them "physical therapists" had been in the forefront of the political correctness movement. Physical terrorist was close; physical torturer might be even better. Even her eyelids seemed to ache with each involuntary blink.

The new day-nurse assigned to her case was also a physical therapist, and part of her duties included supervising Elaine as she learned how to use her new body. Unfortunately, Donna Ellison, Lieutenant Junior Grade, United States Navy Nurse Corps was not cleared for the true story about Elaine's incapacity. She was given the cover story that Elaine had been in a long term coma during which her youthful body had changed significantly. The coma explained the muscle weakness while the body change was supposed to explain her patient's clumsiness.

The fact that the woman was simply gorgeous did not help either of those problems one little bit. Almost a foot taller than Elaine's diminutive height, the redheaded LTJG looked more like a runway model than a naval officer purveyor of medically approved pain and agony. She even made her navy uniform look sexy, which seriously distracted the part of Elaine that was still Allain - *big time*. At least four of the spills she'd taken today during 'walkies' were the direct result of *Allain* paying too much attention to Donna's legs and way too little attention to where *Elaine's* feet were going.

Of course, the Iron Assed Bitch, had merely snarled at her, then hauled her to her feet again with surprising strength, all the while berating her into continuing the exercise. Elaine would have some very interesting bruises on her shins, knees and hips tomorrow.

~-----------~

"Good morning!" Lt(jg) Ellison chirped as she strode into the room as Elaine was finishing her breakfast.

Uncertain as to why her tormentress of the past week was suddenly so happy unnerved Elaine. What new and diabolical torture was fiendish enough, *painful* enough to put a smile on *that* woman's face. She fought back a shudder and tried to return that frightening smile. "Ummm. . . good morning, Nurse Ellison."

"Oh, you can call me Donna, Elaine."

That *really* made Elaine worry because almost the first thing the nurse had told Elaine once Doctor Evans had left them alone was not to get too familiar. "You may call me Nurse or Lieutenant Ellison, young lady," and her tone had been definitely "adult to troublesome teenager". "You're sure of that, Nurse? I mean. . ," Elaine let her words slip off meaningfully.

Donna pulled up another of the chairs that had been moved into Elaine's room now that she could sit up and eat her meals at a table. "I'm sure," she said softly as she took the seat opposite her charge. "I just pulled that rank stuff on you at first because I did not know how hard you would work. Sometimes in this line of work, you have to be pretty tough and mean to folks to get them to do the things that are necessary to help them get well. You work hard enough without that," Then a smirk crossed the high cheek- boned face. "Of course, if you start slacking off, the "Iron Assed Bitch" can return right quick."

Hot fire flashed across Elaine's face and she wanted to slide underneath the table and crawl away. Instead, she squared her shoulders and forced herself to look into the gently laughing blue eyes. "I . . . .I'm sorry I said that and that you heard me say it. I was . . . well, it was hurting pretty bad just then and it . . . well, it slipped out," Hot moisture trickled at the corner of her eye and she brushed at it with her napkin.

"Don't worry about it. I have been called worse and have called others worse. Try motivating a thirty year-lifer chief petty officer with two badly broken legs into putting weight on them for the first time. Singe your ears off, missy, and I *always* give back at least as good as I get," she grinned mischievously. "Now, are you ready for a dirty dozen?"

The dirty dozen meant twelve laps up and down the long corridor outside the room, and was more than they had done the day before when Elaine had been in such pain. "I don't know, Donna. I am still pretty sore from yesterday."

The woman stood and straightened her black gaberdine over- blouse. "In case no one told you this, honey, in cases yours, a little pain during and after therapy is good. It means we are waking up those sleepy muscles of yours and reminding them what they are there for. They're just grumbling about it a bit," She laughed merrily at the sour look on Elaine's face before reaching over to pat her hand. "Tell ya what, kid, just give it your best effort and I will come back tonight before I go home and give you another rubdown," Then she grinned down slyly at her diminutive charge. "Finish the whole dozen and I'll give you a special surprise," she whispered teasingly.

If she'd still had Allain's external plumbing, the look on Donna's face would have given Elaine the beginnings of a hard on. Get your mind out the gutter, girl, we aren't ever going to be able to do that again, and she's regular navy. 'Don't ask, don't tell' aside, it was damned unlikely that the lovely nurse swung to other women, and even less probable that she would be interested in someone she'd been told was barely seventeen. Besides, what could she do now, anyway?

"A surprise, Donna? What kind of surprise?" she answered in a suspicious tone.

Standing up, she reached down and helped Elaine to her feet. "Finish the dirty dozen and find out," she answered enigmatically.

It wasn't much of a prod, but it worked. Especially on that last hellish lap when her legs felt like limp noodles, the carrot of something different was enough to keep her moving one foot in front of the other.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it? We'll have you jogging three miles before breakfast in no time at all," Donna soothed as she massaged Elaine's cramping leg muscles. Elaine wasn't sure she did not prefer the Iron Assed Bitch to Little Miss Mary Sunshine but did not say so. The Bitch might have decided to stop the massage and it felt *heavenly*.

"You take a short nap, hun, and I will be back after lunch with your treat. You have earned it!"

Elaine's last thought before exhaustion took her was that if she was coming *after lunch*, the surprise obviously wasn't the Whopper with cheese she'd been hoping for.

~------------~

Elaine stood in front of the mirror, trying to deal with swirling mix of emotions. At least she had been able to contain her shock and had even managed what she prayed was a creditable display of pleasure when Donna had brought in her surprise.

Elaine was slowly turning around to get a full view when the door opened. Janelle poked her head inside and said "Oh my goodness, I am sorry. I must have missed the room. . . ," as she started to back out again.

Then, she stopped cold in her tracks. The look of stunned disbelief on the older woman's face was very satisfying to Elaine. Especially since it mirrored the feelings she had been unable to express without hurting Donna's feelings. She shrugged and managed a self deprecating smile. "C'mon in, Jan. You are in the right place."

"Elaine???" she asked, her voice cracking as she tried to accommodate what she saw in front of her. The girl nodded, and Janelle moved slowly into the room, carefully closing the door behind her.

With measured steps, she moved over to her patient and then slowly circled around her before coming to stand in front of her once more. She just shook her head in amazement.

Elaine was dressed - like a *girl*! Her shoulder length, raven-black hair had been put up into a perky ponytail that swept the hair around the back of her head and let it fall gently off to once side of her face. Subtle, age-appropriate cosmetics added color and definition to her already classically lovely face. She wore a western cut, embroidered blouse, a knee length denim skirt and a pair of simple flat heeled women's shoes. "But, . . . but how?" was all Jan could get out.

"Hurricane Donna," Elaine answered as she made her way slowly and carefully back to her chair. "She promised me a surprise if I worked particularly hard today on my therapy," She turned to take another look into the mirror. "Boy, was *I* surprised!"

Jan made an effort to regain her perspective on this. This is may be exactly the opening we need to help her begin to confront this. "Well, you look lovely. You'd definitely break many a teenage male heart if you were in school right now."

Anger flashed in the girl's dark green eyes, making them go almost black. "Christ, Jan, you think I don't *know* that? I used to be one of those horny teenage males. Hell, I turn myself on, okay? God, I wish I had not done this," A tear trickled a dark rivulet down Elaine's cheek.

"Well, if it is making you that upset, lets get you out of those things, then." It made no sense to make the girl more anti-female if she was that uncomfortable.

"Can't" she said softly. "Donna's coming back in an hour or so to give me a massage. She'll be hurt if I have taken off the outfit or washed off the war paint, just like she'd have been hurt if I had followed my first inclination and refused to put this stuff on."

"It was a very sweet gesture, Elaine. Any girl stuck in hospital gowns for as long as you've been would have been over the world with such a nice outfit." Then she had a thought. "It was very clever of you to maintain your cover that way."

"Hah! That had nothing to do with it, and you *know* it, Jan. I did not even think of security. I did it for the same reason that men have been making fools of themselves over women for millions of years. She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen and I wanted to make her happy," Jan's raised a single brow in overt challenge. "All right, she turns me on, okay?"

"I'm not surprised at that, Elaine. She is, as you say, very attractive. So, if you are doing a man thing by getting rigged out as a pretty girl, what are you going to do next?" Jan did not know whether to be happy or glad about this admission. On one hand, Elaine was coming out of her self imposed isolation, but on the other, she was doing so by reacting like a male. What would they do if she made a move on the nurse?

"Nothing," The response was emphatic, definite and final. "She is a naval officer, for god's sake, and as far as she is concerned, I am a snot nosed kid. A *girl* snot nosed kid," she became quiet for a long moment before continuing. "I like her, Jan . . . I like her a lot and I don't want to hurt her. So if that means I play Skipper to her Barbie, and ignore the sexual pull I feel towards her, so be it. It is not like I could do anything about how I feel anyway."

That elicited a sardonic chuckle from the psychologist. No way was she going to let the girl wallow in self pity, and most *certainly* not for that reason. "You must have been a pretty shitty lover with your wife, then," she said with a smirk. "Good old missionary position with the lights turned off? Wham bam snore stuff without even getting to the 'thank you, ma'am'? Pull your three G's - Get in, Get off and Get out - just as quick as you could and then roll over, huh? It is a wonder she did not cut it off for you."

"Now wait just a minute! Jeanne delighted in our lovemaking, dammit! I worked very hard to please her in bed and I . . ," Elaine stopped when she realized that Jan was fighting to keep from laughing. "And what," she intoned in her coldest voice, "is so damned funny?"

"You are, you idiot. There is more to making love than shoving a male part into a female part, and you bloody well know it. There are many ways to give a partner pleasure and I am sure you know many of them. Even if you cannot overcome your male inhibitions to try having a relationship with a man, that is not the only type of relationship out there." Jan made a visible effort to control her mirth - it had not been all affectation.

If her tones were light, her face became solemn as she locked eyes with Elaine. "Let's be frank, *Allain*, all psycho- babble aside. You *are* a man trapped in a woman's body and that is not going to change - not completely, anyway. We won't risk your new life on a less than one in five survival chance just to give you your balls back. So, if you still desire women, that is only to be expected. I can guarantee you this, Elaine-who-used-to-be-Allain, there will be plenty of women who will desire you right back. You won't be a lonely, unloved, sexless creature unless *you* choose to be one."

Elaine just sat there, quietly thinking about her mentor's words. Finally, she spoke. "And this stuff," she fingered the skirt and waved her hand across her made up face, "Is part of that?"

"They should be, at least at first. They are things you need to learn and to know about before you make any final decisions. Part of living in your new skin is being female in our society. Rightly or wrongly, there are expected roles and perceptions. If, after living within those confines for a while, you decide that those public roles are wrong for you, well, then you'll know what you will be missing. However, you will need to know the things that birth- women know, so that you can at least try those things before making your decision."

"This is all very hard, Jan."

"I know just how you fee. . . ," the woman stopped herself. "No, that is not true. I don't know how you feel, but I think I know some of it, and I can empathize with other parts of it. But remember this, you have a whole new life ahead of you, with all the experience that only living that knew can provide you. Don't throw anything away in ignorance."

Before Elaine could answer, Donna bustled in and stopped short. "Hey, why have you been crying?" she demanded as she stared at the mascara tracks down Elaine's cheeks.

Pulled from the emotional maelstrom of a moment before, Elaine improvised. "A cramp. . .yes, that is it, I had some cramps in my calves and almost fell."

"DAMMIT, Elaine!" the nurse bellowed. "Didn't I specifically tell you to call for me if you felt any pain?"

More tears followed the earlier ones. "I didn't want to disturb you for something silly like that, Donna."

The nurse helped her patient stand and all but frog-walked her to the bed where she deftly helped Elaine out of her new finery. Even pantihose, thought Jan with secret delight. A sharp smack to Elaine's bottom hurried her into bed and onto her tummy. "*I* will decide what is silly, *after* you call me, missy. Is *that*," and another smack emphasized that word, "perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Nurse Ellison," was the pillow muffled reply.

"Very well then. Where does it hurt? And I *told* you, to call me Donna."

Jan slipped out to leave the pair to their work.

~-------------~

Medical Log Entry: Dr. Whitaker.

Nurse Ellison's gift of clothing suitable to a girl of Elaine's physical age may be a breakthrough. For whatever reason, the patient did not refuse Donna's gift and has, for probably the first time, begun to confront the physical ramifications of her gender transition.

Plan: I intend to discuss this further with Dr. Evans. Since the patient accepted this treatment from Nurse Ellison, while refusing to even discuss wearing female dress with either of us, it may be profitable to enlist her aid. The security spooks are not going to like that very much, because it will mean Ltjg Ellison must be more fully briefed about the true facts surrounding Elaine's "disability". If she is going to become Elaine's school mistress in the feminine arts and womanly sciences, then she will have to be cognizant of how the girl might react if pressed too hard. She has to know she is dealing with an adult male mind in that cute teenaged body.

On another issue, Elaine's confession that she is sexually attracted to her therapist comes as no surprise. What to do about it is another question, but one thing we will not do is try and convince her that her desire for Ltjg Ellison is in some way morally or ethically wrong. That will only serve to isolate the girl who is, as noted above, still thinking with a male mind.

End Medical Log Entry.

~----------~

Jan set down her pen with a silly grin on her face. One thing that she could *not* write in the journal was the disproof of a long held theory about the mental processes of the male animal. Obviously, they did not do all of their thinking with their smaller heads. After all, Elaine was still thinking like a horny male and she did not even have a dick head anymore.

~------------~

"You are kidding me, right?" Donna Ellison had that 'you absolutely *have* to be bullshitting me' look on her lovely face. "There is *no* way in hell that the little girl in that room was ever a male, most especially not *that*" and she pointed an accusatory finger at the photo on Nate's desk, "man. He is six feet tall if he's an inch, and that girl needs thick wool socks and heels on her size five feet to make it to five feet tall."

"Never the less, Lieutenant, it is all true."

Ellison slid slowly down, her hand searching madly behind her for the seat cushion, but her eyes never leaving Nate's. "You really did it? Changed him. . .the guy who saved the city when that bomb was in that submarine, . . you changed *him* into Elaine?"

Nate carefully polished the lens of his glasses before replying. "Well, it was not our intention to change his gender, but the serums got switched and, yes, that is what happened. He is female right down to his, or rather her XX chromosome pair."

Donna looked over to the psychologist who was sitting next to her by Nate's desk. "Why are you telling me this? Obviously this is classified, so you must have decided I have a need to know."

Jan smiled. "Elaine accepted something from you that she has refused to even discuss with us. Yesterday, after you dressed her up in your gifts, was the first time she has even looked at herself in the mirror. She is a woman, now, and she has to face that somehow. She is going to need the help of a friend and a teacher. For whatever reason, she trusts you, Donna."

"Wow. But, what do I know about what is going on in her head? I am a physical therapist, not a psychological therapist."

"I am, and what she needs most right now, is help with the physical aspects of her femininity. We have to be subtle about it, or she'll rebel again, but that should not be too hard," and here she cast a sly, teasing grin at Nate. "After all, underneath all that girlish beauty is a typically unsubtle male mind."

Donna swivelled her head back and forth, looking at each doctor in turn before finally shrugging. "Okay, you'll have to tell me how to proceed, but if you want me to give her Basic Girlhood 101, I can do that. It is not like I have any other duties since you folks jerked me out of the Navy Regional Medical Center. So, what do we, or rather I, do next?"

Nate coughed, uncomfortably. "Well, um. . . Donna, we did say that Elaine was fully female?" Donna nodded. "Well, she has been out of the coma now for more than three weeks and she hasn't . . ," and here the older doctor blushed. "I mean to say that she hasn't had her . ."

Donna's eyes went wide as she caught a glimpse. "You can't mean that she is going to . . " and her voice broke, too.

Jan chuckled softly at the two tongue tied medicos, "Yes, Donna, he does mean precisely that, and yes, she is going to."

"Shit!"

~------------~

Donna walked into Elaine's room a few days later, rigged out in her sweatgear. Elaine was up to doing laps around the compound, now, and it promised to be a lovely day for it. After a brisk two miles, Donna would get the girl started on a weight training program to strengthen the rest of her muscles, too. She was surprised to find the girl still in her bed.

"Hey, c'mon, up and at 'em. We are burning daylight. It is a gorgeous day outside." She gave her charge a swat on the bottom. "Move that butt, girl!"

Elaine only groaned and rolled over, pulling her legs up into the fetal position. Uh oh, thought Donna. It's show time. "What's the matter, Elaine?"

"My stomach hurts, and I am feeling nauseous as all get out. It just hit me just as I was starting to get up." Elaine knew perfectly well what was happening - she felt like Jeanne always looked at those times of the month - she simply did not want to admit it, even if only to herself, just yet. Maybe it was only something she ate last night, she hoped. Yes, food poisoning was a wonderful idea. Then that little voice in her head taunted, sure, and bland macaroni and cheese is going to make you feel like you have the flu.

Donna put a hand on Elaine's forehead and found it to be cool. "Sweetie, I think you know what this is, even if you never experienced it before your accident," she said following the script laid out with the two doctors. "According to your records, you've had regular periods throughout your coma. This is just the first one you've been awake for," Elaine groaned and pulled her pillow over her head.

Donna gave her another swat and pulled the pillow away. "None of that, now. You won't die from it, even though it feels like hell sometimes. Let's go into the bathroom and I will show you how to take care of yourself before we go for our walk," Elaine looked mutinous, but Donna hardened her face. "I *said*, none of that, now! Gentle exercise is good for you. It will loosen up the cramping muscles, and once we're done, I will rub your back for you."

Then she walked her patient into the nearby head to demonstrate for her the joys of feminine protection.

~----------~

Medical Log (Confidential) - Dr. Evans.

Patient is now experiencing her first menses and it has been particularly difficult for her. Severe cramping and nausea. Patient has not been able to keep down any solid food for the past eight hours. Although I am hesitant to use any medicinals, I will intervene tomorrow if she has not been able to keep her fluid levels up to prevent dehydration. She is too small and too light to be able to tolerate too much liquid loss.

End Medical Log Entry

~----------~

The door to Elaine's room opened slowly, a triangle of light beaming into the darkness from the hallway. Elaine looked up to see Donna walking in, wearing civilian clothing. "Hi," she mumbled, "What are you still doing here?"

Donna walked over. "Checking on you. How are you feeling?"

"Not any worse, I guess. Dinner stayed down, if you can call jello and de- fizzed cola 'dinner'. Still feel awfully crampy, though. I just can't get comfortable."

"Well, I might have something to help with that," Donna whispered conspiratorially. Then, with a great flourish, she drew something out of the bag Elaine had failed to notice earlier. It was a stuffed bear. "Meet my friend, Pooh," Elaine cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "Oh ye of little faith. I had my own special teddy bear when I was your age, m'girl. There is nothing better for cramps than something warm on your tummy, and old Pooh is just the thing for that. Just cuddle his plush, furry bottom up against your crampy gut. Works like a charm. Here, let me show you."

Donna settled the bear against Elaine's stomach and then rolled her over onto her side. Amazingly, the warmth felt wonderful, and Elaine was quick to hug the little toy up even tighter to her locked up tummy. "Now, just relax," Donna ordered as she began to work the knots out of the girl's lower back, relieving some of the stress on her abdomen. Whether it was the bear or the massage, or a combination of both, was irrelevant. Minutes later, a soft little snore told Donna that her patient was finally asleep.

~-----------~

Worried about how Elaine was dealing emotionally and mentally with her first taste of Nature's forceful monthly reminder of womanhood, Jan arrived bright and early the next morning to check on her charge. Only long years of dealing with special people as a therapist kept Jan from goggling at the large Winnie-the-Pooh teddy bear that occupied a prominent place on Elaine's bed.

"Where did you get your new friend?" she asked easily as she sat down at the table. At least the girl was able to eat this morning, she thought relieved.

"Donna brought it. She said that hugging something warm against my belly might help, and it actually did," was the monotoned reply.

"Well, then that is all to the good, isn't it?" Jan said smiling. She stopped smiling when she got no answering smile from the girl opposite her. "Isn't it?" she asked again.

"I guess so," was the taciturn reply.

Jan's pleasure at seeing the bear evaporated. Obviously, its presence did not mean that Elaine was trying to confront a feminine lifestyle. "Well, if having such a feminine touch distresses you, dear, there are other ways to do the same thing. We could give you a heating pad or a hot water bottle for the cramps."

Her patient's mood brightened, but only for a moment. "It's okay. Donna would be upset if Pooh disappeared and she was told to give me hot water bottles."

"Donna will do what she is ordered to do, Elaine. She is a naval officer," Jan replied, soft steel in her voice. Helping was one thing - embarrassing the girl into unwilling compliance or unhappy behaviors was another.

"Ja - an," Elaine replied in two syllables, sounding for all the world like a disgusted teen. "I don't want to hurt her feelings, okay? She is important to me. She matters to me."

Is that Allain or Elaine talking, Jan wondered. "So," she continued, "what is it that is really bothering you?"

The disgusted look she got in answer almost made her chuckle. "What do you *think*, Jan. *You* may have lived your entire life with some demon putting your guts through an old wringer washing machine every month, but this is my first time. It has been an all together damnable experience." Wait until you try childbirth, Jan thought, but wisely refrained from saying aloud. "Uncomfortable and messy don't begin to describe it, and not only that - I *smell* bad! To *ME*!" disgust dripping of each syllable.

"Oh, really," Jan coughed trying to hold back a laugh and spluttering instead.

Elaine's eyes narrowed. "Don't you *dare* laugh, damn you. It is not in the least bit funny. How would you like to deal with something like this for the first time at *your* age, huh? Something that, in your sublime ignorance, you thought was could *never* happen to you because it was impossible," she fumed, pointing her spoon at Jan like a weapon. "Really! How would you like to have. . to have. ," she faltered, trying to think of something foul enough, then, "I know! How would you feel if you suddenly got a case of blue balls!" She crossed her arms defiantly in triumph.

Jan lost it, and howled with mirth. "Blue balls? ME????" she gasped out before another peal of laughter took her. "Do I look like I could suffer from testicular trauma due to unrequited lust?"

She did *not* want to smile, but she couldn't help it. "And I guess I do look like someone who should expect to suffer from a monthly visitation?" she said, cocking a brow in challenge.

"Damn straight!" Jan laughed, and then decided to take a chance. "Sorry to be the first to tell you this, old man, but you are about as feminine a female as I have seen in a long time."

"So, the mad scientist did his work that well, huh?" Jan nodded with mock solemnity, her eyes twinkling with laugh tears. "Damn. I am a walking, talking, and now *menstruating* sex bomb," Elaine sighed heavily, making the bangs on her forehead flutter prettily. "Tell me something, Jan."

"If I can, hun."

"He *is* still alive, isn't he? The mad scientist, that is?"

"Far as I know. I have never met the fellow."

"Good," said Elaine firmly. "It would be unjust for him to die before I can get my hands on the son of a bitch. I want to kill him, very slowly."

"Those are very male thoughts , dear, for such a feminine creature as you've become." Jan chided softly.

A thoroughly male, thoroughly incongruous look flitted across Elaine's pert features. "That's okay. I am a very male thinking sort of feminine creature, dear," Which set both of them to laughing once more.

~------------~

Medical Log Entry: Dr. Whitaker

Elaine has successfully passed through the crisis of her first period. Although it was even more trying a right of passage for her than for other women born as women, she has come through it and is even a bit smugly pleased with herself.

For myself, I am grateful that she has adapted so well to this aspect of her new physical gender, _particularly_ since the very cowardly Dr. Evans dropped the entire episode in my lap. As if I know what to do with a male mind having fits because its very female body is in hormone overload.

Other positive signs. Donna, acting as surrogate "big sister" has continued to encourage Elaine to deal with her femininity. She is now "loaning" her clothes, which supposedly belonged to a non-existent little sister. Of course, the program is actually footing the bill for these "hand-me-downs", but the plan is working.

Lingerie was another issue, but Nate handled that by telling her she needed the support for her still developing bosom until we were sure her back was strong enough to support their weight. We told her it was a medical expense. I just hope they stop growing soon. In his enthusiasm for large breasted women, that idiot genius may have made her a candidate for breast reduction surgery with his little attempt at playing God.

The good thing is that she cannot help looking in the mirror when she is done dressing. Surveillance cameras have even caught her primping, and smiling at herself. Whether that is the reaction of a male lampooning his, or rather her new self, I don't know as yet. I am, however, encouraged that she continues to accept Donna's guidance in ways of dress and grooming. The clever woman even has the girl practicing her own makeup.

That is one aspect of all this that particularly concerns me at this time. Elaine has as much as said that she is doing this for Donna and not herself. She remains infatuated with Ltjg Ellison, who has shown no signs of noticing let alone responding to her patient's uncertain overtures. While I know that many patients develop strong crushes on their physical therapists and that Donna must know how to deal with such a reaction, I am still uncomfortable with this. How Elaine will react if her feelings go unrequited is uncertain. Her emotions, as are those of any person at this point in their hormonal and developmental cycle, are highly volatile. Her masculine mind strives for control, and mostly succeeds. I am just waiting for the shoe to really drop and for her to lose that control. A lot will depend on how that happens and how we help her deal with that.

End Medical Log Entry:

~------------~

Medical Log Entry: Dr. Evans

The remarkable physical abilities of the patient continue to astound everyone involved with the program. She has been out of coma now for just over ten weeks and she is already able to run, albeit at a moderate pace, for two to three miles without undue physical stress. Her strength and coordination are improving at an equally incredible rate, although she still does have problems with the coordination part from time to time - mostly with her balance. These problems most often correlate to times when she is reacting instinctively, and not consciously. At those times, her old male self muscle memory seems to predominate. Given her loss in stature and body weight, and the major shifting of her primary balance point, this is not surprising. What is surprising is that these incidents are not more common.

Another bright spot is that her breasts have not changed in size for over seven weeks. Although she is well endowed, her breasts are not so large as to invite muscle damage in her back or to inhibit her freedom of motion. It appears that our contingency plans of breast reduction surgery will not be necessary after all.

End Medical Log Entry.

~--------------~

Elaine finished toweling off after her morning run with Donna. Damn, but a mere three miles seemed a whole lot longer when your stride was at least a foot shorter than her mind "remembered" it being. Still, she mused, twenty four minutes was not too shabby. That Allain used to be able to break nineteen minutes routinely, and eighteen when he pushed it was not germane. "He" was Elaine, now, and besides. . .she was not even close to being in shape, yet.

It was odd, she thought as she looked at herself in the mirror, the things that really annoyed her about her change in physical gender. When she'd finally been given the go-ahead to start running, Elaine had thought that her breasts would have bothered her the most. Although they had been a distraction at first, the sporting bra had helped and she'd soon found herself not noticing them. What still really bugged her, besides having a stride that was shorter than Allain's had been at age twelve, was her damned hair. No matter what she did with it, the stuff came loose and started bouncing all over hell as she ran. Felt like her scalp was being pulled every which way but loose with every step, and Elaine wasn't entirely certain that "loose" wasn't next.

And Donna steadfastly refused to let her get the stuff cut!

When she finally walked into the main living space of her apartment, Elaine was not too surprised to see Jan seated at the little table pouring coffee. These little coffee klatches had become something of a routine now that Elaine was on a more or less regular diet, and truth to tell, she enjoyed them. Jan, unlike Donna, knew the her real story, so Elaine could ask the older woman the questions that no *real* girl would have to ask. *Real*? She thought to herself, remembering her most recent period. It doesn't get much more *real* than that. Make that questions that a life-long girl would ask.

"Good morning, Ellie," she piped, using the nickname she had decided was more suited to the purpose of helping the girl acclimate, than one that sounded almost like her male name. "Coffee?"

"Just a half cup, please," she responded with a grimace. "It goes straight through me. Along with everything else that shrunk on and in me, my bladder must be the size of a peanut."

"How are you feeling now, Elaine?" Jan asked gently.

"Physically, I feel as great right now as I felt lousy forty eight hours ago, but that is not what you are asking, is it?" Elaine answered as she sipped at the dark brew. Jan only shook her head. "Mentally, I'm okay. I don't know half what I will need to know to survive in this strange new world, but Donna is helping with that." She gave a self deprecating little laugh. "I still turn my back on her when I button up a shirt. . damn . .I mean, a blouse because my fingers still go to the wrong side."

"You look very nice, you know. The quintessential girl next door."

"The clothes help. It is hard to forget you are female when you are strapped into a brassiere. I think I will be able to function when I finally have to make my own way outside of these walls."

"What about men?" Jan asked.

"What about them?" Elaine replied off handedly, then snapped alert. "OH. . you mean, what about men as the yin to my new yang? I don't think so, Jan. Underneath this soft, California Girl exterior beats the heart of a Cajun Catholic good ole boy. Heck, I still get excited thinking about making it with girls. The really funny part of that is that *now* any priest would tell me *that* was the sin, and yet, my mind tells me the sin would be with guys."

"Still lusting after Donna?" The girl blushed a fiery red, giving away the answer without having to give it voice. Jan only nodded. "So, are you masturbating?"

Elaine choked on the mouthful of coffee. "What did you say??"

"You heard me well enough, young woman. That dirty old man in your head evidently knew his way around a woman's body well enough to make a child. Are you diddling yourself?"

Looking up at the surveillance cameras, she asked pointedly, "Don't you know?"

"We've seen you tossing and turning at night. That could be trying to figure out how to get comfortable at night or it could be. . "

Sighing, Elaine gave up. "It was both. Allain was tummy sleeper. Elaine. ," and she raised both hands to her chest "can't. As to Donna, she wears these really tight running pants and a jogging bra which she changes into right in front of me - it makes me *crazy*"

"I will see what I can do about getting you a little more privacy, Ellie. You have a vibrantly alive, wonderfully sensitive young body there, and you are going to become aroused."

"Not if it means Donna changes somewhere else, you won't!" snapped the male mind through the very female mouth.

Jan broke down and howled with laughter as Elaine sat there trying to appear offended. Then she too began to laugh.

~---------~

Medical Log Entry: Dr. Whitaker

Elaine has admitted to masturbating, and as should be expected, to fantasies about Lt. Ellison. The spooks do not want to give up their "round-the-clock" surveillance and are trying to block Dr. Evans and I shutting off the camera that looks directly at Elaine's bed. I suspect that is primarily because they don't want to lose their late night peep shows. Dr. Evans agrees with me on this issue, however, and he is going to require female watchers for Elaine's privacy. He is also ordering the offending camera removed. With all the other cameras in that room, they will be more than able to see any intruder before the villain could get to Elaine's bed.

On another issue associated with the cameras, Elaine has begun working out on her own. We will need some expert assistance on this one, and the spooks are not going to like it one bit.

TOUGH!

End Medical Log Entry

~---------~

Jan and Nathaniel sat quietly, alternately watching the monitor screen, and then glancing over at the short, wiry older man in the room with them. He, on the other hand, had not so much as twitched since their patient had begun the graceful, almost dance-like exercise more than thirty minutes ago. Suddenly, Elaine's movements became faster, more forceful.

The older man looked up from the screen. "Remarkable," he said in a softly accented voice. "Fascinating. You say she has recently come out of a very long coma, one that has lasted throughout her puberty?" The two doctors silently nodded. "Well, that would explain her balance problems, but . . ," He broke off, his attention caught by a particularly vicious looking kick.

"But *what*, sir?" Nathaniel asked. "Is there something wrong with her doing that type of exercise? Could it harm her?" Nate knew his limitations and he had no experience with the martial arts.

"Only indirectly, Doctor," answered the little man enigmatically. "I have seen enough. Come introduce me to this prospective student."

"Prospective? You were brought here to teach her. You were the only one the security guys would let in and that is because you teach the Congressmen and Senators in DC. You *have* to teach her," Nate blustered.

"I can only teach if she will learn, Doctor. Whether she can and will learn from me is something we have yet to determine. Come, let us go and find out, please."

The sound of her door opening in the middle of her kata caught Elaine by surprise. One of the reasons she had chosen this particular time of the day for this particular exercise was that no one ever visited during this hour. Still in the thrall of the give and take of the graceful shadow boxing, she spun toward the door, dropped into a defensive stance, and faced the intruders.

The old man simply glided through the door, and then went motionless, facing her calmly. Elaine recognized Nate and Jan first, and began to relax until something clicked in her head. Recognition dawned - she knew that man, or at least, she knew of him.

With great solemnity, she came to attention and then bowed deeply at the waist. "Greetings, Master. This is a very great honor."

The two doctors watched, amazed, as the man simply watched their patient who held her deep bow without further comment. Finally, he spoke. "You know me, young woman?"

Without breaking her awkward position, Elaine answered. "You are Master Rhee, father of American Tai Kwan Do."

"I am here to teach you, young woman. Are you here to learn?"

"I would be greatly honored, Master."

Master Rhee returned the bow, held it, and then said a single syllable word neither doctor understood. Whatever it was, student and teacher rose from their bows to face one another.

"Who trained you, student?" Rhee asked.

Taken aback by this question, Elaine fumbled a moment. She could not tell him who had actually trained Allain, because that teacher was known to Rhee. "My dead brother, Master."

"He was a large man." It was not a question. "And he taught you as he was taught."

"Master?" Elaine asked, confused.

"You are well taught. Your techniques are, for the most part, well executed. You know enough to recognize which ones were not done properly and you work them until you correct them. That demonstrates discipline, self-awareness and excellent training. Your balance is what gives you the most trouble, probably because your mind still does not know your new body," The old man stopped for a moment and considered. "Yes, you are well trained, but what you know is all wrong!"

"I. . . I don't understand, Master."

"You were trained in techniques and movements suited to a much taller, stronger individual. They are completely inappropriate for someone of your stature. In fact, if you were to attempt to use them in actual combat, you would be in serious danger against a trained opponent. You have not the reach nor the weight to fight effectively with those techniques."

"I. . .I see." Elaine murmured, bowing respectfully.

"I hope so, young woman, I certainly hope so." He turned to the dumbfounded pair of doctors. "We shall need a larger space than this, and mats. Please arrange it by tomorrow." and with wave, dismissed the pair. "Come student, we will begin today with some exercises that will train your body to find its balance."

~-----------~

Medical Log Entry: Dr. Whitaker

One solution turns into the next problem. Fortunately, this one was solved easily enough, and it even has the side benefit of making the security types happy, or at least three of them.

Elaine needed a mat partner for her martial arts lesson. Although Lt Ellison is also taking lessons, as much to ensure that Elaine does not overdo in her enthusiasms as for her own interest in learning Tae Kwan Do, it is not enough. Donna is a beginner. Elaine, or in this case, Allain, is already highly proficient, and the exercises she needs are beyond Donna's skill level.

Three of the security team, a woman and two men, jumped at the chance to study with Master Rhee. The advantage of this is that all three are already cleared for Project Elaine, and know the truth about Allain/Elaine. That simplifies the issue of explaining to an outsider why this seventeen year old girl is under twenty four hour guard in a maximum security installation. Questions we don't want to hear and that we cannot answer.

The woman is a nationally ranked black belt competitor in judo, one of the men is a black belt karateka and the other is a former Navy SEAL. The woman is taller and heavier than Elaine, but the sensei does not see that as a problem, and both men are big enough for Elaine to learn how to deal with large, aggressive males from her new size perspective.

Aside from the to be expected bumps and bruises (Nathaniel is going crazy and cannot bear to watch Elaine during her training time), everything is working fine. Elaine even seems to be developing a friendship with the female security agent. Although very strong, the lady is still attractive; a combination of attributes that is good for Elaine to see on a regular basis.

End Medical Log Entry

Special Security Agent Christine (call me Chris or else)McKay, groaned dramatically as she slowly settled herself into the chair in Elaine's room. "You got me good, today, kid," she said with a wince.

Although all three women, Elaine, Chris and Donna, knew that Elaine had been alive the longest of them all, Chris had decided she was a "kid". There were several reasons for this. First and foremost, although Elaine suspected that Chris knew her history, she still believed that Donna had not been cleared by security to know the truth of her transformation and that nurse still accepted the cover story.

Chris's other reasons had to do with security and with being able to maintain cover. As she had explained to Jan when the psychologist had talked to the agent after one of her counseling sessions with Elaine. "But she doesn't like being called "kid", Agent McKay."

"I kinda figured that out for myself, Doc, the first time she put me on my ass on the mat. However, I decided to keep on doing it because it is good for security," she'd explained. "When she gets sprung from this place, we are still going to have to watch out for her. Since I am female, that means I will probably be on her detail. Outside, her cover will be as a teenage female, not a rundown, over the hill, male submarine jockey. It will help desensitize her to being treated as a teenager, and will also help us both get used to being in character."

Jan had acceded to the wisdom of that ploy, but Elaine still didn't like it. At best she tolerated it, and sometimes - like today - she even got a bit of her own back from the Amazonian agent.

"Thought you judo experts were supposed to know how to fall," Elaine grinned at the almost six foot tall, 175 pounder.

Chris snorted. "We are, when we're thrown, smartass. That slide kick that took my ankles out from under me had me landing on my tailbone," Donna choked when the agent carefully rubbed the injured region. Her near laugh earned a steely stare from Chris. "And don't you dare laugh."

Coughing hard and scrunching up her face, Donna shook her head emphatically. "Me? Laugh?" she gasped out. "Wouldn't <ahem> dream of it," Donna paused for effect. "Even if you did look like a . . . a . . . well, words fail me. Let's just say that you were not at your most graceful when you bounced twice on your butt."

"I'd kill you, but I'd have to move and my ass is just not up to it right now," she retorted before turning back to Elaine. "What I want to know is where the hell you learned that technique. We haven't covered it yet."

She had opened her mouth to answer but then all but clapped her mouth shut. The frown that slipped across Elaine's face, and the furtive glance at Donna told the agent that she had almost blown Donna's cover. Then Elaine saved her. "Well, I did learn from my big brother, and he was even bigger than *you*," she said smartly, and then giggled, much to her own dismay. She had actually *giggled* at the pained look on Chris's face. "Just like the Master said, I couldn't do anything against him, so I learned that technique out of necessity."

Actually, a mere slip of a girl had used it on Allain with very similar results to what happened to Chris. He'd learned the technique out of self defense, but had always been too big himself to use it effectively. Until now.

"Not all of us can be pocket Venuses, kid," Chris said, looking hurt and making Elaine feel ashamed.

Donna saw an opportunity to press the other part of her tasking and piped up, "Well, it doesn't matter, Chris, because you are a very attractive woman."

The look the agent gave the tall, elegantly slim nurse was at first surprised, and then resigned. "Yeah, right. The kid here looks like she could pose for Playboy when she finishes growing up, and you belong in Paris modeling some designer's new fall line. I am the ugly duckling in this crowd."

Donna let that one hang for a few moments because she could see Elaine's regret at having begun this line of conversation was growing. She intended to use that emotion to get her charge to go along with her plan. "Ugly ducklings and swans, Chris," she said finally. "I know. Elaine, how about we keep the Agent McKay here tomorrow for dinner. We'll do a make over on her, and make her shine?"

This sounded entirely too female to Elaine. Three women getting together to play with clothes and makeup? "But. . . But we don't have any clothes for her, Donna," She was pleased with that dodge.

"Oh, I have a friend who runs a boutique. I am sure she will let me borrow some stuff if I ask. I can get some basic cosmetics for her coloring, too."

"Now wait just a bleeding minute here," Chris started to protest. "I don't wear makeup and fancy designer clothes do not look good on me. I am, as you so kindly pointed out, bigger than the average fashion model. All that silk and frou frou make me look like a male playing dress up."

If anything, that outburst made Elaine feel even worse because she could tell that for all her accomplishments, Chris was sensitive about her size and did not know how to play up her looks. She sighed inwardly and capitulated. "Oh, please, Chris? Donna is very talented. We'd have fun, and I just *know* that, as attractive as you are right now? You will be gorgeous when we get done with you."

Surrounded, her last hope of escape cut off, Chris acquiesced, but not before turning a hard look on Donna. "Okay, but just remember one thing, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Agent McKay?" Donna responded airily.

"If you turn me into Bozette the clown tomorrow, we will have a date on the mat day after tomorrow."

~-----------~

Medical Log Entry: Dr. Whitaker

What seemed like an excellent stratagem to further immerse Elaine in the feminine experience has had unexpected and unfortunate repercussions. Only time will tell how damaging it will be to Elaine's development as a female, but we will have to watch it carefully.

Elaine is now aware that Donna has known of her masculine history for some time. How this will affect their relationship and the four months of work Donna has undertaken at my request are questions that remain unanswered at this time. So far, Elaine refuses to speak with any of us about it, and totally ignores poor LT Ellison except during her therapy and physical training sessions. She also refuses to wear any of the feminine finery that Donna has "given" her over the past weeks, preferring Navy issue unisex grey sweat suits. I have tried to draw the girl out, but she is being stubbornly recalcitrant. Personally, I attribute this to her male outlook as any clear thinking female would recognize the good that was accomplished.

Unfortunately, I had not anticipated the girl finding out about this ruse until much later, if ever. Dr. Evans is furious about the setback and is worried that Elaine may decide to stop working with Donna altogether. The spooks will not like bringing yet another medical type in on this, and the damage to LT Ellison's career may be serious. The head of security wanted to bring charges against her for releasing classified information, which was just stupid posturing on his part. LT Ellison's role was always strictly informal and there wasn't ever any real classification of her activities. Still, there are those who would see her dismissal from this program as a black mark on her record.

What a mess.

End Medical Log Entry.

~---------~

Elaine sat in her room, staring at the waning patches of light through the venetian blinds on her one window. She'd been in that position since returning from her workout with Master Rhee.

The session had been an unmitigated disaster from start to finish - the first time in her life, or rather his and her lives, that she had ever been verbally rebuked by the training Master. Donna had tried to put herself in the "ring" as Elaine's sparring partner during the contact bouts. The lieutenant improved, but she was still no where near Elaine's level and they both had known it. For one small instant of time, Elaine had considered accepting Donna's challenge and then beating the living hell out of her. Instead, she had refused the challenge and had turned her back on Donna.

Master Rhee, not knowing either the emotional state nor the actual classified history of his pupil, only saw a pupil acting arrogantly superior and haughty to another student. He had reacted in the way of martial arts masters, and had sparred with Elaine himself to humble her. He had succeeded magnificently at that goal, and Elaine still hurt from the correction. Still, not fighting Donna had been the right thing to do. Elaine did not have the control that the Master possessed. If she had lost control of herself, even with all the padding they wore for mock combat, she might have seriously injured Donna.

Why had she deceived her all these weeks? Elaine had thought Donna cared about her, but she had been just playing a role to get the poor confused man- turned-girl into an acceptably female attitude and outlook.

Be honest, at least with yourself, Elaine, she thought as she batted away a stray tear. It's the friendship the two of you had developed that hurt the most. If that had been nothing more than a tactic, a tool to reach the unresponsive patient, Elaine did not think she could handle that. When Donna had slipped up by complimenting her on her selection of an outfit for Chris ("Not bad for a former guy, Elaine."), she had gone cold inside. Donna had been lying to her all along, which meant that Janelle had been lying as well.

A soft knock on her door broke that train of thought. When she turned to look at the entrance to her room, she saw it opened enough to admit Donna's head. "Could I come in, please?" the nurse asked softly. "I'd really like to talk to you about all this," Elaine turned away. "You're the nurse in charge, Nurse Ellison. There is nothing I can do to stop you from entering the room where your patient resides."

"That . ," and Donna's voice broke momentarily into a half sob, "stops me pretty effectively, Elaine." The door opened wider and the older woman drew herself to her full height as she strove for what dignity she could salvage. "If that is how you feel, I can resign my post here, and ask for reassignment. I don't want to impede your progress, so if my presence here distresses you that much, just tell me and I will be gone."

Elaine sighed. She'd thought about asking for another nurse, preferably a male nurse who would not try to make her into something she was not. In the end, however, she knew she couldn't do it. "Oh, hell, Lieutenant, come in and close the damned door," she said resignedly.

Donna stepped inside, closed the door and then actually marched to a position directly in front of Elaine and came to attention. It was a classically military thing to do as a junior entering the office of a senior officer.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, Donna?" Elaine asked with a touch of exasperation in her voice.

"Reporting as ordered, Sir."

"Oh shit, Donna. Cut the crap and sit down. I am not even sure I am a naval officer anymore and I sure as hell am not a "sir"."

Donna relaxed her rigid position and gave a weary smile. "Well, for the first time in our acquaintance, Elaine, you sure as hell *sound* like a senior naval officer instead of seventeen year old girl."

"I know all the words, Lieutenant. I just did not want you to think your young charge had a bad case of potty mouth. I was afraid the Iron Assed Bitch might elect to wash my mouth out with soap," Elaine waved her into the other chair and studied the other woman. Even seated, she was formally erect, her posture and bearing militarily correct. Her face, however, showed the ravages of recent events. Her eyes were red rimmed and what little mascara she permitted herself while on duty had made tracks down her cheeks that she had not been completely successful in cleaning away. Her hands were white knuckled as she gripped them together on the table in front of her.

"You know you can't resign this position, Donna. The Navy does not forgive officers who don't do what the Navy, in its infinite wisdom, have assigned them to do. You'd be a civilian inside of two years."

The nurse nodded her understanding. "Perhaps, but I am a qualified RN as well as a certified physical therapist. I'll find work outside. What I cannot ethically do is remain here if my presence hurts your recovery."

Elaine stood and began pacing back and forth across the room. "Dammit, Donna, I don't want you hurt, so just belay that bullshit, okay?" Donna stared at Elaine for a long time before nodding, and beginning to relax. "Just tell me, please, when did you know that . . that. . "

"That you were once a man?" Elaine nodded. "Shortly after I put you into that first skirt and blouse. Up until then, I thought you were just a confused kid who had grown up in a coma and did not know how to be a maturing female. When you accepted the clothes from me, and wore them, Jan decided to bring me in on the secret. She really is worried that you will refuse to even try to fit in as a female and will be very lonely because of it."

"I had wondered why her little "why don't you try this, Elaine?" counseling sessions seemed to taper off so quickly. So you got the job of introducing me to my femininity, of instructing me in those womanly mysteries of clothes and cosmetics? Oh yes, and lets not forget the wonders of menstruation."

"It seemed to be the best way. You responded to me for some reason in ways you did not for Jan. She felt, as your psychologist and therapist, that you needed these experiences in order to make an informed choice about how you would live your life now that you've been given a second chance."

"Was it all just an act? The gifts, the chats. . . the friendliness?"

Donna's mouth dropped and then her face went instantly from sad fatigue to rage. "No, goddammit, it was not any type of an act. I *like* you - hell, I even love you like I love my kid sister. I wanted to *help* you, dammit, and Jan said this was the best way."

Elaine's emotions got the better of her and she burst into tears as she flung herself at her nurse. "I've been so afraid that it was all a sham, and that I was all alone again. The Docs aren't family, and my family is lost to me. All I had was you, and it seemed like that was just an act."

Donna hugged the shuddering, sobbing figure. "No, it wasn't an act," She pulled back so that she could look Elaine directly in the eyes. "I care about you, missy, very much. Hell, I even set myself up so you could stomp my butt today and you ignored me. I'm sorry you got punished by the Master about that."

"S'okay," Elaine said, stifling another sob and batting at her streaming eyes. "Damn female hormones."

Her friend chuckled softly. "You'll get used to them. They are just a little overwhelming to you right now. Are we okay, now?" she asked hopefully.

Elaine started to answer and then caught herself. "Donna, there is something I need to say, now that I know you are aware of Allain. Do you know why I let you dress me up and paint my face when I resisted every effort of Jan's?"

Her friend slowly shook her head, her eyes intently scanning Elaine. "Because you are a beautiful woman that I . . .that I care about a whole lot, and because the only way I know to react to that emotion is as a male. I did not want to hurt your feelings."

The meaning of Elaine's words slowly sunk in. "You. . You *want* me?" Donna squeaked in surprise. Elaine hid her face against Donna's chest and barely nodded. "Oh my," she said as she hugged the smaller body to her own. Then her body went rigid. "Damn her. Jan knew that, didn't she? That is why she was so sure it would work - me being your teacher - because you would take from the woman you . . . cared about that way, things that you would not take from anyone else."

Donna moved them both to the small couch. They sat there holding one another for several minutes before the nurse broke the silence. "Wow. I don't know how to deal with this. I've always been pretty much straight. Oh, some experimentation with other girls in my early teens - mostly "you show me how you do it and I'll show you how I do it" kinds of thing."

Elaine gave a self deprecating laugh. "How do you think I feel? I've always been straight, too, only now "straight" as my head sees things is "gay" for my body. . . right down to my chromosomes and entirely fertile womb. Not that I would do anything about it, Donna, but I do lust for you in my heart. I will understand if you cannot handle that. I will even make sure Evans finds a way to move you to another posting without any down checks in your service record."

"I'm not going anywhere, sweetling. I don't know how I am going to deal with this. . . revelation. I do know that I love you, and it is nice to know that you still love me. Can you handle it if we never . . . errr. . . consummate a physical relationship?"

"Oh, I had never even let myself think that anything might come of how I felt for you," then she laughed softly. "One advantage of being a female is that unrequited lust is not quite so physically painful as it is for a man. At least, I haven't yet had any reaction to compare to a bad case of blue balls."

The two women shared a laugh at the bawdy comment. "Are we okay again, Elaine?"

"Better than just okay, I think. And maybe even better than what we were before. Now, at least, I know that you understand why I might react some way."

"I still want to dress you up, young lady. I have really enjoyed that part of my duties. And I think it is important for you to learn those things."

Elaine sighed before nodding her agreement. "Okay. Who knows. . . I might even get to like it. Lord knows that I like the feeling of the softer fabrics on my skin these days. Another effect of the mad scientist's potion, I guess. I seem to have very sensitive skin."

~----------~

Medical Log Entry: Dr. Whitaker

Based on my discussions with LT Ellison, and on my observation of the security tapes of her and Elaine's confrontation, I feel that the immediate crisis of LT Ellison's broken cover is resolved. My own relationship with the patient has, unfortunately, suffered a setback as she has put the blame on me for her friend's deceitful behavior.

I am not too concerned at this juncture since Allain/Elaine is a very mature personality for all her apparent youth, and I suspect she will come to accept what I did.

As an experiment, I have seen to it that Elaine has been provided with a couple of sets of what the Navy laughingly refers to as "Pajamas-Men's- Cotton" from the Naval Small Stores uniform issue in a size appropriate to her current stature. Her comment about the sensitivity of her skin is a factor I had not considered before and may, along with the fact that menswear is simply not cut for her figure, lead her to wear choose more feminine clothing. We will see what choices she makes in sleeping apparel now that she does, in fact, have a choice.

End Medical Log Entry

~-----------~

Jan hesitated slightly before knocking on the door to Elaine's apartment. A week ago, she'd have just stuck her head inside, yelled "yoo hoo" or some such thing, and expect to be waved in by her patient. That was a week ago, and this was now.

The relationship between doctor and patient had become coolly polite over the past week. Elaine still answered any question Jan put to her, but she no longer initiated anything with the older woman. The rapport they had developed over the past months had been badly strained as a result of the revelations of the week before. Elaine could not bring herself to blame Donna, and the doctor understood that Elaine needed to fix blame somewhere.

Of course, if there was blame, it *should* be on her own head. The deception had been her idea and had been conducted at her instigation. Perhaps the worst part of it, from Jan's personal perspective, was Elaine's comment to Donna that the "docs are not family." Jan had felt like Elaine was becoming family, and it hurt to know she no longer was a member of her charge's special number. If she ever had been.

Grimly, Jan knocked on the door and then entered at the yelled "Its not locked," Which was, of course, strictly true since the spooks would not allow the door to have a lock. Why this was necessary within the high security compound, Jan did not know, but if Elaine did not complain about the lack, it was not something Jan needed to fight for. She needed to conserve every silver bullet she had with those security types for battles she *had* to win.

"May I come in, Elaine?" Jan asked from the doorway. Two things heartened the psychologist as she peered into the room. The first was that Elaine smiled at her and waved her in, much as she had before the incident.

The second pleasing observation was that Elaine was wearing the very feminine silk lounging pajamas and not the Navy issue men's cotton pajamas Jan had obtained for her. She walked over and took her seat opposite Elaine.

"Thank you for seeing me," Jan opened formally.

Elaine laughed softly, surprising her guest. "Has it really gotten that bad between us, Jan?" she asked. "First Donna comes in here like she was facing charges at a court martial and now you tip-toeing around me."

"You were very upset. . ," Jan temporized.

"True. And I still think it was a dirty trick, but I will concede that it was done with my best interests at heart."

Jan's brows rose in mock surprise. "Only with your best interests, not *in* your best interests or to your benefit?"

"Let's just say that the jury is still out on that, although I will admit that your little object lesson has been received, understood and accepted."

"Object lesson? Me?"

Elaine chuckled again. "You don't do meek well. I am wearing these silky things instead of the oh-so-manly jammies you so courteously provided."

"Oh, so you have discovered the pleasure of silk, have you?" Jan asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"I'm not sure it's the pleasures of silk or the downside of cheap Navy cotton broadcloth. I have certainly discovered that I don't like abrasive rashes on my butt, and since I don't particularly like wearing a bra to bed, I don't much like the rashes there, either."

"Oh," Jan said primly. "Does that mean I can cancel the order I just put in for some regulation boxer shorts and muscle t- shirts?"

"As I said, Jan," Elaine responded, a twinkle in her eye, "I have learned the object lesson. Having said that, however, I think *you* might want to solidify your gains and not push your luck too much further?"

"Of course, dear. So, what are your plans then, clothes-wise, for the foreseeable future?"

"Let Donna continue to have her wicked way with me, of course. The only thing that has changed is that I know why she was pushing all these frills on me."

The psychologist shook her head in amazement. "I must say that you are reacting with uncommon good sense for a girl your age. I would have expected you to hold a grudge for a much longer time."

"You forget sometimes, too, don't you? I am not really seventeen, Jan. Oh, the body is and unfortunately, the hormone systems are, but the mind is over thirty. Sometimes, like when I am really surprised or upset, the hormones overpower the rational mind and I react like a seventeen year old immediately after the fact. Once I get time to think, however, the rational mind reasserts itself and I can take action as the rational, mature adult I really am."

"That is very perceptive, Elaine. Still, I am pleased that you are willing to forgive and forget. We need to be able to work together if you are going to lead a healthy, happy life as Elaine."

An evil grin lit the gamine face. "Oh, don't get too carried away, doc. Forgive? Probably. Forget? Uh uh. We have a saying in the Navy, dear lady, to the effect that payback is an incestuous maternal male child. One of these days, probably sooner than later, I will get my own back on you." The grin widened. "And I *also* believe that merely getting even is for amateurs. I am a professional, and as a former missile submarine sailor, I believe in overkill."

That elicited the expected laugh. "I will remember that and try to cover my ass around you, lad who's a lady," Jan decided it was time to change the subject. "So, what do you think of Bert?"

Taken off guard by the question, Elaine stared at the older woman. "Bert? Bert who?" she asked in obvious confusion.

Well, that answers the question, Jan thought. "Well, Bert, the ex-Navy SEAL who is working out with you and Master Rhee?"

"Good fighter," Elaine said, choosing her words carefully in the evaluation of a fellow warrior. "Really superb control, both of his mind and his body. Excellent discipline. He makes a formidable opponent. I really have learned a lot about protecting myself against big powerful males by scrapping with him."

Disgusted, Jan growled. "That is NOT what I meant, Elaine. What do you think of his... .his looks?"

That earned her a disinterested shrug from Elaine. "Looks? He looks unassuming and easygoing, but I guess guys who know that can kick 99.99% of the world population's ass don't have much to prove," Then, it hit Elaine what Jan was driving at. "You mean.. .How does he look? As in being male to my female? *that* kind of 'look'?"

At Jan's emphatic nod, Elaine blew out an exasperated breath. "Well, let's just say I am in no danger of wanting to trip him to the mat and then have my evil way with him," She saw Jan start to speak and cut her off. "And it's the same with the other one. .. What's his name."

"Larry," Jan supplied the missing name.

"Yeah, Larry. Same as the way I feel about Bert. Nice guy, good fighter - the kind of guy you'd want guarding your back if you had to go into a war zone or into a bar fight. But Christ, Jan. They're *guys*!" and stopped herself just in time from adding, "just like me."

And that says it all, doesn't it, Jan mused. "So, the fact that they are two gorgeous examples of the male gender in all its power does absolutely nothing to you sexually?"

Elaine paused to consider that, and then shook her head. "No, can't say they do. Now Chris and Donna, on the other hand - I may trip either or both of them, really soon."

"Floozie," Jan said with gentle affection. "So I guess where we are is that you are starting to see benefit in dressing and looking like a female, but you have no interest in the male of the species."

"That's about it, Jan," Was the complacent reply.

"What about children, Elaine? You loved your daughter and now for all intents and purposes, she is lost to you. Don't you even want the chance at another?"

Elaine giggled softly at that. "Wait a minute, Jan. Aren't you supposed to be counseling me about abstinence and saying *no* to sex before I am in love? Since when, in our modern age, do people talk with seventeen year old girls about babies and getting pregnant. Other than to tell them *not* to, of course."

"Since you pointed out, missy, that you aren't your basic seventeen year old girl. You were a father, a parent and you evidently cared for.. .I mean care for that child very much.

This isn't some new ploy of yours, is it? Another way to get Elaine to deal with all aspects of her newly gained femininity? I have to experience labor in order to accept my new role fully?"

"No, dammit," Jan growled. "I was only pointing out that you are a fertile young woman who is capable of giving birth to a child of your body. It is something you might want to think about because I am certain that you never have before. That is part of who you are now, Elaine. And for that, you will need sperm, which means, you need a man."

Elaine saw that Jan was serious. "I don't know, Jan. Maybe my ambivalence to males as sexual partners will change as I become more. . acclimated to this body and gender. If not, and I really want kids, there are other ways to obtain the sperm. Hell, for that matter, I could go to the sperm bank where Allain used to make deposits and have the old me knock up the new me. Might even be a good idea so there will be at least one more Charboneau to carry on the family name."

"That is possible, I guess. Still, it is sad that you can't see your way clear to enjoy one of life's great pleasures and intimacies - to at least *try* the experience."

"That is the way it goes, dear. I don't see guys in that light, and I cannot imagine the experience being good for either of us."

"Well, I guess I will drop it for now, then. Anything you want to ask about? Anything you want or need?"

The girl went very quiet and still for several moments. Jan thought she could literally see the girl gathering herself to ask for something she knew would cause a problem. Finally, she shrugged and sat up very straight. "I would like to get out of here for a few hours. Go to a ball game, or walk on a beach or even stroll around a mall. I have been here for months and I am going stir- crazy. I mean, I'm not going to spend the rest of my life on this maximum security reservation, am I?"

Jan made some notes on her ever present note pad. "No, you are not going to have to live here forever. I will take it up with Dr. Evans and if it is not a problem medically, we will see what can be done about getting you a few days of . . . what is it the Navy calls it? Shore leave?"

"Liberty, Jan. It is called liberty."

"Appropriate name in your case. You realize that you will still have a guard force and a watcher team?" Elaine frowned, and then nodded. All right, dear. I will see you tomorrow," Jan said as she stood and then left the room.

Medical Log Entry: Dr. Whitaker

Trying to get Elaine a few days away from here certainly did throw the fox into the henhouse. Nathaniel had no problem with it, provided that LT Ellison is with Elaine. The problem, as should have been expected, came from the spook contingent. Evidently they *were* seriously considering keeping Elaine here for the rest of her newly extended natural life. God only knows why because there is no way the bad guys can know that Allain is now Elaine.

The birds and the