Chapter 3

Originally, the plan was to make one last stop to visit relatives on the way north. But the delays and the detour caused them to miss the time for that visit. Those relatives were, themselves, out of the area.

They drove up I 25, past a lot of scenery. Just north of Colorado Springs, they saw the home of the Aerospace Force Academy. Normally, John didn't really care about his family's lack of high powered political influence. But these days, it took such influence to get a tour of the place. So just this once, he sort of wished for that kind of pull.

They continued on up the freeway, past a variety of other places that sounded interesting, and finally got to their destination: a suburb of Denver called Greenwood Village. It was a professional class suburb on the southeast side of the city. The houses were nice, if a little on the old side, and the one his father had found seemed to be a good one. It was close to the local pool - a factor Angel would have appreciated more before the change - and within walking distance of the high school.

Angel was a little startled at his own reaction to seeing his father after so long. He literally jumped into his arms for a hug. He felt himself on the verge of tears, another novel experience. After all the greetings were finished, they sat down to a dinner of supermarket fried chicken and side dishes. They talked about their experiences over the last few weeks, touching on things they hadn't gotten to on the phone. Angel said little about his powers, other than the fact that he had family help with practicing his recognition skills.

After dinner, they watched the news on tv. There was a brief report on the new threat of the MORFS variant which affected adults, dubbed AMORFS. It was creating a major stir among the group most affected - ironically (according to the newscasters) those most critical of MORFS transformees and of transformee rights.

When the news was over, they decided to get to bed. His father had work in the morning, and he and his mother would start unpacking.

His room was on the second floor. The boxes with their things had arrived some time before, probably while he was changing, Angel thought. His bed was not set up, but there was an air mattress with sheets, a pillow, and a blanket piled on it.

He hung up and otherwise put away his new clothes, made his bed, and headed across the hall for a bath. His parents had their own bathroom en suite, so this one would be all his. Once he was ready, he changed his mind. A hot, relaxing bath would probably be too relaxing. He decided on a quick shower, instead.

He had to laugh at that thought. A "quick" shower now took longer for him than the longer ones he used to take. He tucked his hair into a shower cap to keep it dry, which would save some time. Then he got down to business. He took a little more time than was strictly necessary while cleaning his more sensitive areas, but he was too tired to really get into it.

After drying off, he went back to his room (and after all that visiting, this really was his room). He made his temporary bed, slipped into the required nightgown, and went to wish his parents good night.

"She still doesn't think of herself as a girl," his mother was quietly saying, "Not really. She still sees herself as a boy in a girl's body."

"Well, he was a boy for years. Then suddenly he..."

"She, dear. If we can't even change the way we talk about her, how can we expect him ... dammit! her to?"

"Alright, she. After a young lifetime as a boy, suddenly she wakes up as a girl. She was strong as a boy, and she's strong as a girl. But I think that's working against us. She's walking the walk, talking the talk, and dressing the part, but her inner boy is doing what he always did. He's doing what has to be done, because that is a big part of who he is. But it's him doing it, not her. It hasn't changed who he is, it's reinforced it."

Angel slipped back into his room, his head reeling. It was true, every word. He kept his silence, but couldn't keep the tears from his eyes. That reminder of his new hormones just made it worse. He clamped his mouth tight against the response, and vented a mental scream.

Hey! Knock it off! an unfamiliar voice echoed in his mind. Some of us need our rest!

The touch of the telepathy reminded him of Miranda, but the "voice" was different. Someone he didn't know.

Oh ... sorry. The voice responded, having apparently read his thoughts. You must be my new neighbor. Sorry neighbor boy. I got a sunburn today, and I'm kinda cranky.

Neighbor girl, thank you. He thought back. Sorry I disturbed you.

Girl? Are you sure? You sound like a boy

I was a boy. Now I'm a girl. Damn MORFS.

That explains it. I'm Helena. Lena to my friends. Get some sleep, and we'll talk in the morning.

The unexpected exchange startled Angel out of his funk. He went back out to wish his parents a good night, making sure he made some noise on the way. They wished him goodnight, with no indication of their earlier conversation.

He was tired enough that he barely stretched out on the bed before he fell asleep.

It was not a peaceful night. His exhausted slumber was filled with strange and disturbing dreams. Luckily for him, he only remembered bits and pieces. And those quickly faded, replaced by images of waffles and bacon. Images coupled with the realization that he was really smelling waffles and bacon.

With mixed feelings, he threw on a bathrobe and made his way down to the kitchen.

"Mmmm. Smells good." He looked at his parents, both having breakfast at the kitchen table. "Ok, what's the bad news this time?"

At their confused looks, he explained. "Last time I came down to breakfast and found the two of you like this, I found out we were moving. The suspense would only spoil the meal. So what's the bad news?"

"No bad news. Just a welcome to our new home, glad we're back together breakfast. Besides," she smiled at her new daughter. "I wanted to make sure the waffle iron survived the trip."

"Apparently," Angel replied wryly, "it did." He helped himself to a plateful of breakfast, and sat down.

"I'll have to get to work pretty soon," his father added. "The integration is a lot more painful than we expected. I've been working late most days, and most weekends. Now that you're here, I have an excuse to scale back a little. But you probably won't see me that much for the next couple of weeks."

He finished his breakfast, kissed his wife, hugged his new daughter, and dashed out to his car.

"You may as well just throw on one of your old shirts and some pants. We're going to be unpacking most of the day." his mother conceded.

Much as he liked the idea of dressing completely the old way, he decided to wear some of his new underwear. He figured he might need to make a quick change, and he was still not all that quick with a bra.

The first thing they did was bring the rest of the things in from the car. The bags of dirty and well traveled clothes went down to the basement for cleaning. Other things went to their appropriate rooms.

Angel had just finished taking his last load of travel stuff up to his new room, when he "heard" a cheerful and familiar voice in his head. Hey, neighbor boy. You've got company!

His mother gave him a funny look when he came back down stairs and went right to the front door. He opened it, finding a girl about his age. She was carrying a red tipped white cane, and a tray of home baked goodies. Here eyes were an uninterrupted white. Her average figure was somewhat covered in shorts and a short top, and she was wearing Cloud Shoes with no socks.

"Lena?"

"In the flesh. Now you can put a face to the nightmare." she grinned.

"Mama! One of the neighbors is here."

"Hello, Mrs. O'Connor," Lena chirped. "My mom thought you might like these after your trip."

"How thoughtful. Did I hear Angel say your name was Lena?"

"Yes, ma'am. I kinda introduced myself to him last night."

"How... ?"

"You remember Miranda?" Angel prompted.

"Only by reputation. You're a telepath?"

"And a few other things. I'm not really powerful or anything, but it's useful."

"How do you get around?"

"Mother!"

"It's all right, Angel. My eyes would be largely superfluous if they did work. I can 'see' with my powers, more than I could with my eyes."

"I figured it was something like that. We had a couple of kids like you in the district."

"Yes, they probably read you this easily. On the other hand, we learn very quickly to keep everyone's secrets. Otherwise, we wouldn't live a week. It's nice to meet another Lena, though."

"Must be hell trying to put together a surprise party for you." Angel quipped.

"There are ways around it." She smiled.

What's it like? Angel thought, wondering whether he was coming across all wrong.

Don't worry about it. Lena thought back. We can swap details later.

"So, neighbor boy," she said out loud. "What are your plans for the day?"

"Hey! I told you I'm a girl. Now."

"Uh huh. Let's see ... A boy's shirt, boy's pants, and a boy's mental voice. Girl, huh?" she teased.

"Well, two of the three are my doing, I'm afraid. We haven't gotten around to buying things for working around the house, so I told her to throw on some of her old clothes."

"I'm just yankin' your chain. You already knew that I could see through her clothes."

Angel started feeling awkward at that.

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's just the way this stuff works. Frankly, I usually ignore it. One more set of secrets I don't need to know."

"How do you stand it?"

"I learned to ignore most of it. After I got a quick education in the realities of human nature." She shook her head. "You don't get to keep many illusions like this."

Then she made an obvious effort to change the subject. "Hey, I never got any answer to my question, neighbor boy. What are you doing today?"

"Mostly unpacking. Our stuff got here while I was wasting all that time sleeping and ... other stuff."

"Would you like some help?"

"With the unpacking, or the other stuff?" Angel was half kidding.

"Both. But the unpacking will be faster. Besides, I need to keep this sunburn out of the sun for a while."

"How can you help with my changes?"

"Out of self defense, I learned how to help people with some things. It was either that, or endless months buried under their whining. I sympathize with their problems, but I need the occasional night's sleep to deal with my own life."

"You're that powerful?"

"Power has nothing to do with it. It's mostly some visualizations and sh ... stuff. I have an advantage with a little more direct feedback, but anybody can learn it."

"Ok ... Well, you wanna help me put my room together?"

"Sure. We can talk while we do it. Just a second." She had a look of quiet concentration. "Ok. I let my Mom know where I will be."

Magdalena looked a bit wistful, and Angel rolled his eyes. Lena heard their mental comments loud and clear.

When they went upstairs, the first thing he unpacked and set up was his music system. Since he didn't know the area, he let her choose the station. She chose one that specialized in music for girls and young women. Chick music, as he thought of it.

"I suppose you could call it that. They also have good news reports and shit like that. Think of it as an aid to help you find your new self." She grinned.

The first thing they did was assemble the bed. It was definitely a two (or more) person job, but they got it done. Angel found that Lena's "vision" was good for things like finding dropped bolts and nuts, among other things. Once the frame was together, and everything else added, they made quick work of making the bed.

As they sorted through his things, he realized that a lot of his things would have no real place in his new life. That thought depressed him. He could use most of his t-shirts, and a few other bits and pieces of his clothes, but most had to go. And his decorations, souvenirs, and even his old toys were mostly out of place in a girl's room. It hurt to realize it, and he couldn't bring himself to get rid of them. Yet.

"You know, down at the old mall there's one of those swap shops. You know, the places where people like you can take the stuff from your old body and trade it in for stuff for your new one. Well, there are small charges and stuff, but it's still good."

"I'll check it out."

Lena looked at one box, and commented "This one is all slacks and dress shirts. You can probably just take it as is."

That got them on the subject of Lena's powers, and what they were like. "Part of it is like hearing. I can listen, and pick things out, or I can ignore some things. But sometimes, something is too loud to ignore."

"Sorry!"

"Yeah, well ... I was just sensitive because of the sunburn and all. Sorry I snapped at you last night."

They agreed to forgive each other, then continued with the conversation. Of course, that lead to his powers, and what it was like to use them.

When she heard about the minor healing ability, she asked if he could cure her sunburn. He wasn't sure, but offered to try. They agreed to have him try a small area with his finger before trying to fix the whole thing. It worked, but was limited to the same small area as his other effects. He mentioned the exercises with his grandma, and his later practice.

Once the finger test worked, he tried his entire hand. That worked, with the same space limits as the finger. He suggested that he could do much of her at once, if they pressed their naked bodies together. But she saw the leftover male take on the possibility, and decided it was too soon for that. While he worked on her, two hands worth at a time, they continued to talk.

"Now that ability to see what MORFS will be doing to someone, that's pretty cool. Can you do anything about it?"

"I haven't tried. Seemed kinda dangerous to be messing around with it."

"I see your point, but that could be pretty powerful, and help a lot of people."

Almost on queue, the radio announced a report on the wave of MORFS hitting the radical Pures groups, including the variant hitting the adults. They went on to talk about the range of responses the victims had. Some turned around and became supporters of other MORFS survivors. Some kept to the party line, even to the point of giving up their positions and authority. Some tore their families apart over the issues.

Some killed themselves.

When Angel heard that, he collapsed. His guilt over those deaths overwhelmed him, and all but shouted the details of the rally and his actions to Lena. She was shocked, but quickly recovered. She had seen people with much more to be guilty about.

"It's not your fault. You didn't know, not really. And you did not kill any of those people. They died from their own poisons, the same ones they used to drive other MORFS survivors to their deaths. They made their own decisions, not you." Lena alternated between talking and thinking at him, using her best soothing tones for both.

"But..."

"But nothing. Your mother is on her way up. She heard your reaction to the story." She switched to mind mode. What have you told her?

Only that I went to part of that rally, as a test of my ability to pass. he thought back.

You should tell her.

Not yet. It would be too much.

You might be right. But at least tell her you saw it spreading there, and that you feel bad that you didn't do anything to stop it. She needs to help.

Just then, his mother came through the door, looking concerned. "What happened?"

"She heard something on the radio that upset her. Something about that rally just after she changed."

"It's horrible!" he cried. "Some of them killed themselves. And it's my fault!"

"It's not your fault. Even if you had created the variant, and infected them..."

Lena quickly thought at him, She doesn't know. She doesn't even guess. Hear her out.

" ... it wouldn't be your fault." she continued, unaware of the brief mental exchange. "That was a choice they made. It was an unfortunate choice, but it was theirs to make." She hugged her daughter, doing her best to radiate reassurance and unconditional love. Lena helped a little, letting him feel those emotions from her. After a while, he calmed back down. They talked a little about his new emotional responses, and both Lena and his mother reminded him that it was part and parcel of being a girl. Finally, he convinced his mother to go back down, and let him talk with Lena "girl to girl."

Why not tell her? Lena asked. She would have accepted it, and understood.

I know that, he thought back. But she really needs to think I'm pretty much harmless. Especially if she gets screened for a job in the school district or as part of my going to school.

Lena conceded the point, but called it weak. To give him something else to focus on, she got him to finish healing her sunburn. And since she had been wearing a thong bikini, he got to see all of her. A little at a time. By the time he was done, she was completely naked and he couldn't remember being upset.

She was a little amused, and a little sad about what had been going through his mind. He was clearly a good person, but until recently had been a teenage boy. He was excited at the idea of seeing and touching her, but it didn't have the charge he expected. He was disappointed about that, but he kept trying to keep his focus on the healing. The occasional fantasy slipped through, especially when he was working near her butt and boobs, but it was more reflex than anything.

"Poor guy," she thought. "He's going to be mostly straight. And to him, that will seem gay."

Once he was done, she decided on another experiment. "Do you think you could give me a tan? It would be a shame to have had all that pain with nothing to show for it."

He agreed to try. Starting with a small spot again, he thought about what his skin did when it tanned. Something clicked in his mind, and she had a small, round, dark tan. He worked on adjusting the level, and soon had a color she liked. Wanting to keep him distracted, she declared that she did not want a tan line. That became another session of him running his hands all over her body again.

She set her mind to the feeling of completely non-erotic contact, pleasant in the way of a hug from a friend. She let that feeling seep through to Angel as well. After a while, he relaxed and made better progress.

Lena was pleased with her new tan, but needed to keep him distracted. The next logical step was obvious. As she admired her tan, she declared "I have got to show this off. Let's get over to the pool."

"Like that?" his mind was again on her nudity, but more in a locker room way than a boy seeing naked girl way.

"Of course ... not. I'll get dressed and clear it with your mother. You get into that old fashioned excuse for a suit you put away."

As Lena dressed, Angel suddenly got shy about undressing in front of her. Lena caught that, and sent him wisps of the image and feeling of changing in the locker room. By the time she was ready to go talk to his mother, he was already topless and pulling out the swimsuit top.

"Mrs. O'Connor?"

"Call me Lena or Magdalena. Is she all right now?"

"For the moment. I have her distracted, and want to keep it that way a little longer. I talked her into coming over to the pool with me, so she can meet some other people from around here. Any problems with her doing that?"