The Primary home for "Midnight Downloads" is my site at Sapphire's Place
You can find Sapphire's Place here: http://www.sapphireplace.com
My site at Sapphire's is mirrored at TG-Fiction.Net with a delayed posting schedule.
You can find TG-Fiction.Net here: http://www.tgfiction.net
Don't forget to look to these wonderful sites for other delightful stories not found here.

WARNING!

This story may NOT be archived in ANY FORMAT whatsoever in existence today or under development now or developed in the future for public display, FOR FREE or PAY without the expressed WRITTEN consent of the author. Midnight downloads is available electronically, for free. It will NEVER be found on a pay to access site with the author's permission!

This is a work of fiction. Any people, places or locations within are purely fiction and the product of the author's imagination, or their names are used to add realism and/or for satirical purposes. Their use does not constitute any type of endorsement or agreement, in part or in whole, with any belief or message, expressed, implied or otherwise inferred by the author and the story/story line, nor do they imply any endorsement of the story or author.

This story contains scenes of EXTREME VIOLENCE, mature subject matter and deals with alternative lifestyles. If you are not comfortable with these concepts and materials, STOP reading NOW. If you are under the age of seniority and consent where you live, or if these types of materials are illegal for you to read, possess or download, you must STOP reading NOW and you may NOT download this story. If you are very religious, this work will probably anger you. Do not read it. Do not download it. Hello, nice to see you, GO AWAY. You'll be more comfortable at http://www.disney.com please go there instead of here.

 

Midnight Downloads
by Wendy-J
Wendy-J@KimEM.net
© 1999-2004 Wendy-J All Rights Reserved.
Unauthorized distribution or archival prohibited.

 

Part-25
Tuesday Morning September 15^th

After Jenny left the room, Linda sat up in bed, and then reached down to rub at a sore spot on her leg. The motion triggered a new pain in her shoulders. "Aaah!" she hissed involuntarily. "Damn, that hurts," she mumbled. As she slid her feet to the edge of the bed, she felt something dragging at her heel. "What the…?" Once her foot cleared the blankets, she saw a large bandage covering her heel. Her mind flashed to the night before. Joanne, holding her in the chair by the shoulders and her wild kicks at the desk…the steel band of Joanne's arms about her chest securing her to the chair, and the splintering sounds… "No way," she mumbled. "There's no way I split my foot open on…" She left the thought unfinished as she stood and limped into the bathroom.

The bathroom was luxurious in its size and antique appointments. The tub, a humongous, deep, six-foot long, claw-footed affair, was richly appointed in gold trim and fittings. There was a large gold curtain ring that ran the circumference of the tub; it was suspended from the ceiling by thin gold bars. The tub had a long gold cane-shaped pipe that extended up from the end with the faucet. The faucet also had a shower massage attachment on a six-foot long golden metal wrapped hose. This little gem brought a smile to the petite blonde's face. At the top of the cane-like curve of the pipe was a broad, circular, old-fashioned showerhead, also in gold. It almost looked like the nozzle of a sprinkling can for gardening. Linda released the tiebacks and pulled the satin and lace curtain and its plastic liner closed, and then ran the water for a shower.

As the water warmed, Linda looked into the mirror over the pedestal sink. The nightgown she wore covered a bit more skin than any of the nightgowns she'd purchased for herself, but it fit her perfectly. As Linda removed the soft cotton garment, she discovered the cause of her shoulder pain. There were four small bruises just under each of her clavicles. She turned so she could look at her back. There she found two complementary bruises, one over each scapula. Linda shook her head in amazement. Then she looked at her leg. There was an angry purple welt the size of her fist on her right thigh. She shook her head and braced herself against the sink. Linda lifted her right foot and peeled the bandage from her heel. It looked like several large splinters had been removed.

"The desk?" she wondered aloud. "Damn, Joanne's strong," she thought as she lifted the shower cap off the golden towel stand by the tub. She put it on her head and carefully poked her hair under it. Then, Linda tested the water and found the temperature acceptable, so she stepped into the steaming water of the shower and began her morning ablutions. "This is too strange," she thought as she reached for the soap. It was her favourite brand.

Stepping out of the shower, Linda patted herself dry and donned the fluffy terrycloth robe that was hung on the golden coat tree by the sink. Quietly, she padded barefoot back into the bedroom and really looked at it for the first time. It was definitely a woman's room. The soft draperies were tied back with large satin bows, which matched the satin piping of the ruffled valence.

"Decidedly feminine," Linda thought as she looked about. "Almost too feminine for a spare bedroom." The furniture pieces were all beautiful, matching antiques. There wasn't an odd piece in the room. "Strange," Linda thought, "it's so richly appointed, yet it looks almost antiseptic. Why?"

The bed had been made and some clean clothes laid out upon it. Smiling to herself, Linda got dressed in the much too conservative clothing selected for her. Every article of clothing on the bed was in her size. As she slipped on the hosiery, she noticed a pair of mid-heeled pumps on the floor beside the bed, almost hidden by the lace dust ruffle. Linda stepped into the pumps, and then looked about for her purse. She found it on the seat of the vanity.

The vanity beside the bed was completely stocked with all of the personal items she might need. Every cosmetic, either on or in it, was in her colour, favourite brand and shade. Intrigued by the clothes and cosmetics, Linda started to look around the room. The dresser, while not full, had more than an adequate selection of clothing. She looked closer and noticed that again, all the clothes were in her size.

"Jenny's taller and a bit bigger than me, and Joanne is way too big to fit into these… Curiouser and curiouser, Alice," she said to herself.

The clothes were a bit preppy compared to what Linda would choose for herself, but they were very stylish. The closet yielded the same interesting results. Not an overly large selection there, either. But the dresses, blouses and skirts hanging there were all in her size and just a bit more "New England" than would have made her comfortable.

"Fascinating," Linda mumbled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a starter wardrobe for the season."

As Linda sat at the vanity, she looked closely at the mirror. It looked like a couple of pieces of paper, or possibly photographs, sandwiched between the frame and the mirror, had recently been removed. Linda looked more closely at the walls of the room. It looked like more than a few items of photograph and poster size had been removed from the walls recently. The sun had faded the surrounding paint almost imperceptibly, leaving darker spots where the items once hung. While beautifully appointed, there were no decorative or personal accents to be seen anywhere in the room. They had all been removed.

"Pictures… Starter wardrobe… There's no way… is there?" Linda wondered in a stage whisper. All at once her mind flashed to her bedroom as a teen, with the pictures on the walls and vanity. "Oh, gods, but why didn't…" Suddenly, she felt very alone, and very guilty.

Linda did her face, and then made her way downstairs. The house was decorated in an interesting mix of Victorian and Contemporary styles, all of them formal or semiformal in appearance and light in colour and feel. Linda caught sight of Joanne walking back into the kitchen as she entered the formal dining room. The almost bald Amazon seemed to be moving a bit stiffly. Linda was standing behind one of the high-backed chairs when Joanne re-entered the room with a tray of china and silver. Linda averted her eyes and looked down at the tabletop's intricate lace doily. It was almost as if Linda was afraid to look the tall woman in the eye.

Linda went to her and, as Joanne set the tray down, took her by the hand. She still wouldn't look the woman in the eye.

"I… I'm sorry, Joanne. Thank you for…"

Joanne pulled Linda into a warm, almost sorrowful embrace. The action seemed full of emotion. Her breath caught in her throat and her muscles stiffened as she pulled Linda tight.

Feeling the stiffening of Joanne's muscles and hearing her sharp intake of breath, Linda jerked away and stared at the tall woman. "You're hurt!" she said accusingly. She backed away as tears came to her eyes. "I hurt you, and all you tried to do was…"

Joanne pulled Linda into another warm hug. "I'm sorry, Linda. I had to. Please forgive me, but I had to," she whispered as she began to cry as well.

"Damn it all to hell," Linda said as she composed herself. "I just finished doing my face!" Then she looked up at Joanne. Her makeup had run, too, and Linda could see the angry welt on Joanne's cheek beginning to show. She touched it gingerly. "Me?" she asked, almost sobbing.

"No," Joanne said with a sad shake of her head. "Marjorie. I still don't know why all she did was…"

"I don't think she could ever seriously try to hurt you," Linda said, fighting back fresh tears. "Not even if she wanted to. She loves you too much."

Joanne paused and desperately tried to compose herself. "Go fix your face," she finally choked. "Breakfast is in fifteen minutes, and the Boss doesn't like smeared makeup."

Linda smiled wanly. "I'm…"

Joanne put a finger to Linda's lips, stopping her. "No, Linda, I'm sorry. Now, go fix your face," she said as the tears started down her cheeks again.

As Linda left the formal room she began to cry again.

*************************

Breakfast with Jennifer and Joanne was an almost formal affair. Linda kept looking for the maids and other household staff, but the only staff apparent to her, were Jenny and Joanne. They did the all the cooking and serving this morning, anyway.

It wasn't until the dishes were cleared that Jennifer broached the subject of the previous evening. "Linda," Jennifer barely squeaked, her emotions choking her. Jennifer the impenetrable, Jennifer the indomitable, looked defeated. "I had to do what I…"

"I'm glad you did, Jenny. What was going through my mind before Eugene put me out would have landed me in prison if I'd even half a chance to act on it. Thank you…Mom."

Linda said the last word quietly, and almost as if it was a sentence of its own. The import of the word was unmistakable, pronounced, a declaration all its own.

Jenny's discomfited face went ashen. "How…how long have you known?" she said, shocked to her core, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Almost two years," Linda barely managed to whisper in reply.

"But…"

Joanne got up and silently left the room, crying.

"How do you think I learned about Tina's gift with computers? She's the one who taught me how to use them." She left the why of it unsaid. It needed no explanation. She'd needed to know. Tina taught her how to find out.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

"I…I'd always hoped you'd come to me," Linda said, breaking down in tears.

Jennifer didn't know what to say or do. She just sat there, crying, staring over a formal table setting at…her daughter. She wanted desperately to hold her, yet she dared not move.

Linda decided for Jenny, she jumped up and ran to her mother. Once they finished crying, Linda pulled a chair over and sat close by as Jennifer started to talk. Linda never said a word; she just held her mother's hands and let her talk. As Jenny spoke, a head could be seen in the background from time to time, peering into the room. It was Joanne, listening from the kitchen, a washrag held to her mouth to muffle her sobs.

"I was only thirteen when I got pregnant with you, Sweetheart. It was at a skating party at the 'Spinning Wheels' roller rink in Cardiff. A bunch of my friends and I asked our moms if we could have a skating party. So, my mother -- a woman very much like Sam's mother, by the way -- gave me five dollars, a kiss on the cheek and told me to have a nice time with my friends.

"There were boys there who kept flirting with us. They were older, kind of dangerous looking… To a little girl, it was so very… racy and romantic, I suppose. An older boy was paying a romantic interest in me and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. He offered to buy me a soda and a hot dog. We never got to the concession stand… He… he raped me in the boy's locker room." A tear started to make its way down her cheek. Jennifer brushed at it angrily with her napkin and continued in a bitter voice.

"When they finally found me, my friend's mother took me to the hospital. But it didn't make any difference. At least it didn't to my parents and most of the community. My parents were catholic and my father was very much like Sam's. I was an embarrassment to them. In my father's eyes, I was a whore.

"Once they realised I was pregnant, things went from bad to worse." Jennifer was fairly spitting the words out now. "I had tarnished the family name. We were shunned by the neighbours and ostracized by the community. Father's drinking only got worse. He lost his job because of it. Of course, he blamed it on me. After I had you, we moved. Our new neighbours were told that you were Mom's baby.

"Father's drinking was now out of control. He'd already managed to put mom in the hospital twice. The laws were very different then, and people looked the other way, accepting the excuses my mother offered. Each time Father came home drunk, I became his target. It was happening so often that I knew I had to get out, or you and I would wind up dead." Her voice was beginning to waver.

"You were only a year old when I ran away. You were so beautiful, so delicate," Jenny stifled a sob. "I was fifteen at the time. I couldn't support you; gods, I tried, but I just couldn't take care of you. I was waiting tables at a bus stop and trying to care for you at the same time. I kept you in a bassinet in the kitchen. The other waitresses tried desperately to help, but you'd cry every time I went out to take an order or to serve that slop they passed off as food and you wouldn't stop till I'd return. The boss -- that's what everyone called him, 'Boss' -- told me that you had to stay at home, or I was fired." Jenny was struggling visibly to keep from crying.

"Now I understand why you hate that nickname. I'm…"

"It doesn't matter, Honey. Please, let me finish. I don't know if I'll ever have the strength to say this again.

"I couldn't afford to hire a baby sitter and, at my age, it was almost impossible to find any other job. I just couldn't take you back to live with that…that…monster in the house. So I left you with the nuns at 'Our Lady of Mercy.' They promised me they'd find you a good home." Jenny sobbed. "I had to, Honey, I had to. I tried so hard…"

"Mother, please! Don't…"

Jenny pulled herself together and continued. "Inside of a month, they placed you with an older, childless couple. That couple fell in love with you on sight.

"I never lost touch with you. I watched you playing on your swing set in your yard, on the playground at school. I spent all my free time just watching you. I moved when your adoptive parents moved. I did what ever it took to always be there for you should you need me. You were the main reason for my shoppe. I needed a way to be able to provide you with everything you might need or want. It just proved to be a bit more useful in the coming years. By the time you were twelve, I was affluent enough to provide for you, but I'd already put you up for adoption. I did what I could over the years. I…" Jenny's voice broke.

"My scholarship… that was you?"

"What other benefactor would demand so much?" she answered with a sad smile.

"My prom gown?"

Jenny just nodded.

"But…"

"Your adoptive parents would call me if you ever needed anything, Lin. I loved you so much, Honey…" her tears threatened again. It took a monumental effort, on Jennifer's part, to control them. "One day, while you were at school, I introduced myself to the Mathesons. They were so loving, so understanding. Linda, they offered to let me have you back! But…gods forgive me…I didn't have the heart to take you away from the only parents you ever knew."

Jenny broke down in sobs again. After a while she'd regained her composure enough to continue her confession. "I made them promise not to tell you about me. They sent me pictures of you, your report cards, they'd call me just to tell me how you were doing. And I sent them money, lots of it, to make sure you never went without anything you wanted. As each of them died, I mourned their passing as much as you."

"The only thing I ever wanted, they couldn't give me, Mom. I had to find her myself."

After having another long cry, Linda said, "That's not a spare bedroom, is it?"

Jenny shook her head. "No-one's been in that room, except me, since I bought this house," Jenny said. "I made Joanne and Marjorie wait down here with you, while I got it ready for you."

"You mean, while you took the pictures and posters down," Linda said with a wan smile. Jenny nodded and smiled at her as a tear glinted in her eye. "Do you have Tuffy?"

"Your bear?" Jenny managed to choke out.

"Yes, Mom, my bear," Linda said, smiling wistfully.

"He's in your hope-chest, Honey, along with all the other things of yours the Mathesons sent me. Could we go back up and set the room to rights?"

"I'd like that very much…Mom." Linda choked back a sob with a ragged intake of breath and squeezed her mother's hand tightly. "Mom. I've waited a lifetime to say that word to you."

*************************

"But, Doc…"

"Tina, that's a very normal response for any young girl." This elicited a giggle from Sam. They were sitting in Jan's basement office with the door closed.

"But I'm not a real girl!"

"Tina, do you remember that long test I gave you on our first visit?"

"Uh huh, the Multi-Phasal thing… yes, I remember it. It kept asking the same questions over and over, they were just worded differently. It was really dumb."

"Well…that 'really dumb' test isn't as dumb as it looks. It's designed keep you from purposefully making the results say one thing or another. What the results show, among other things, is whether or not your personality is on the feminine side or the masculine side."

"So?"

"Tina, your answers showed you to be a girl. If I had looked at the results of your test without looking at the patient data, I would have said a normal fourteen year-old girl took that test."

"But I'm eighteen! I'm a senior in high school, I'm taking classes at the university…"

"That's right, you're eighteen and you're extremely intelligent. But you haven't been able to grow up and experience the things a girl your age should have experienced. In essence, emotionally and sociologically, you are still a little girl."

Sam bit her tongue so that she wouldn't laugh.

Tina looked crushed. "You mean that, up here," she said, pointing at her head, "I'm a girl whether I like it or not and I'm not going to…"

"No, what I said is, your answers on the test indicated that your reactions to a given set of stimuli would be the same as any other girl of that age. Whether or not you are a girl -- in your own mind at least -- is what this experiment -- your living as a girl -- is designed to determine."

Tina's eyes started to fill with tears.

"I see you've been taking your pills," Dr. Bennett chuckled. "Now, let's talk about yesterday some more. When he grabbed you, what ran through your mind…"

They went at it for several hours. Sometimes Dr. Bennett asked Sam questions, but, most of the time, he just ignored her. Never once did he ask her to leave, so she didn't. She just sat there and listened. Tina went through the entire range of emotions. There were times that Sam fought to keep her distance. For a little while, Sam thought she was the subject of the visit, but Dr. Bennett always turned things back to Tina. The interesting thing was that they were learning a lot about each other, Dr. Bennett included. He never once back-pedalled or sidestepped a question when Tina turned his own questions back at him. It was impressive.

Tina's stomach had just started to make some rather unladylike noises when there was a soft knock at the door. Dr. Bennett opened it to reveal Donna with a tray full of sandwiches and sodas.

"You've been going at it for so long, I thought you might like something to eat," she said apologetically.

"Thank you, Donna," Dr. Bennett said jovially, "it's just what the doctor should have ordered. You will be joining us for lunch, I hope."

"Oh! I…I wouldn't dream of…"

"Nonsense! It looks to me like there's plenty here for everyone. Please, pull up a chair. We were about ready for a break, weren't we, Girls?" Tina and Sam both nodded emphatically.

The four of them chatted a bit while they ate. Donna brought up the subject of work and suggested Sam call her employer before they start again in the afternoon.

"Don't you want to have some privacy for the call?" Dr. Bennett asked as Sam reached for the phone on the desk.

"Why? I'm just gonna call her and find out when she wants me back to work. Yesterday, she just said not to worry about my job. It's not like we'll be discussing state secrets or anything." Dr. Bennett chuckled as she dialled.

"Hi, Marjorie?"

"Sam! How are you? How's Tina?" Marjorie asked in a rush, genuinely concerned.

"No secrets around there, I see," Sam joked.

"You know the Bo…umm, Mrs. Winchester, "she said glancing around nervously." So, how's Tina?"

"I'm fine and Tina's doing much better. Mar, uh, is Mrs. Winchester in?"

"Yeah. Why? Wha'sup?"

"Oh, nothing much, I need to know when I'm on the schedule again."

"Hold on, I'll put you through."

There was a brief pause as she waited on the line. When Jennifer Winchester picked up the line, Tina giggled; she could see the change in Sam's posture.

"Hello, Sam?"

"Hi, Mrs. Winchester, I, uh, called to find out when…"

"Is Tina still following you about like a lost puppy, Sam?"

"Uh, yeah, uh…how…?"

"I make it a point to know what and how my employees are doing, Sam. Besides, Grace Archer told me all about it when she called. Why don't you relax for a couple of days? I imagine you'll need it as much as she will."

"But I…"

"We'll consider it part of your, err…medical leave."

"Thanks, Mrs. Winchester."

"You're quite welcome, Sam. If you need anything, call." And she hung up.

Sam just stared at the phone in her hand for a moment before hanging it up.

"She's quite the enigma, isn't she?" Dr. Bennett asked.

"Boy, is she ever." Then Sam stared at him and started to ask, "How do you… Never mind; I don't think I want to know."

Dr. Bennett just chuckled.

They finally broke for the day a little after three. On their way up the stairs, Dr. Bennett held Sam back and let Tina get ahead of them. "Sam, when Tina goes out on that date, I'd appreciate it if you could manage to double with her. I don't think she's ready to try and handle a date on her own just yet."

"If she does, I will. I promise."

"Thank you, Sam."

Before leaving, Dr. Bennett wrote out some new prescriptions and handed them to Donna. "Donna, these are for Tina, and these are for Sam, if she wants to use them. If she does, then have her take these to the address on the top of the forms. I'll call Dr. Eastman this afternoon and talk to her about it. Call me if there are any problems…with either of the girls." Donna was speechless. She just looked from her hands to Dr. Bennett.

"You've done a marvellous job with her, Mrs. Boone. Under the circumstances, I don't think I, or anyone else for that matter, could have done better. Have a good day." Then he walked out the door, not waiting for a reply.

"You okay, Mom?" Sam asked, coming into the foyer from the kitchen.

"Yes, Darling, I'm fine. The, umm, doctor said that I should give you these," she said, handing the prescriptions to Sam. "And it's up to you as to whether or not you want to use them. I can't say as I agree, but I'll trust his…and your judgement."

Sam looked at the pieces of paper in her hand. They were for…

"No way…" Sam mumbled. Her hands began to shake as she looked at the papers there, not believing what she saw. A tear started to make its way down her cheek.

"Honey, are you…"

Sam ran up the stairs without waiting for another word. She slammed her door shut and, within seconds, guitar music was the only thing Donna heard.

*************************

"Hello, Eileen? Eugene Bennett."

"Eugene? How are you, you old quack? I haven't heard from you since you stuck your nose into the Carson case two years ago. That was a good call, by the way. Thanks."

Dr. Eugene Bennett cringed at the mention of the case. "Um… Eileen, I…"

"Sam Boone, right?" her voice was suddenly cool and reserved.

"Yes," he said in a strangled voice.

"You've prescribed?" Eugene Bennett could feel the ice in her voice even across town and on the phone.

"Yes," he answered meekly.

"Might I ask why?"

"As you're…probably…err…umm…well aware, Tina Wilson…" He was having trouble getting the words out.

"Had a psychotic break with reality yesterday immediately following a sexual assault. Yes, I'm familiar with the case. Her mother's a client. You haven't prescribed for Janice, too, have you?"

"No, I, uh, had an all day session with Tina today. Sam was present," his discomfort was a palpable thing.

"You just couldn't keep your nose out of it. Could you, Gene?" Eileen's irritation was finally making itself known. Along with the ice was an edge of fury.

"Would you, Eileen?" Eugene asked in a small defensive voice.

"I wouldn't have prescribed, but…no…I suppose not," Eileen's voice warmed some at the thought of her being in Dr. Eugene Bennett's position, but she was still feeling injured by his meddling in her case. "Want to meet over dinner and discuss it? You can buy. I think you owe me that much."

"That sounds good, Eileen. What say I pick you up at your office at seven?" The relief in Eugene's voice was tangible.

"Make it half seven, and wear a good suit. This is going to cost you. I'll make the reservations," Eileen countered.

"Done. I'm on my way to the 'Men's Wearhouse' and I'll bring my American Express Card," he said resignedly. "See you at then."

*************************

Tina walked into the kitchen and saw Donna staring at the prescriptions and lab orders. She'd spread them out on the table and was just staring at them. Tina's knees grew weak at the sight of the lab orders.

"You okay, Aunt Donna?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes, Sweetie, just feeling a bit…lost I suppose," Donna said, sounding like a lost little girl.

"Anything I can help with?" Tina asked as she approached the table.

"No, Honey. I don't think there's anything anyone can do about it."

Tina put her arm around the woman. She was beginning to feel like the woman really was her aunt.

"I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all better for you," she said in all honesty.

"Let me hug you, Sunshine," Donna replied with tears in her voice. "That always makes me feel better." She held on to Tina tightly for a bit, and then let her go. "Would you like some…"

"No, thank you; I'd like to sit with you, though. Those for me?" she asked.

"Some, Honey, not all."

"But…" Then she caught sight of the name on the lab orders. "Oh…" there was as much shock in her voice as there was in Donna's face.

"Oh, is right. What should I do?" Donna asked, as much fear in her voice as there was determination to do the right thing.

"Is that why Sam's upstairs wailing away on her guitar?" Tina asked sagely.

"Yes, Sunshine. She took off so quickly I couldn't tell if she was happy or sad."

"Why don't you go up and talk to her?" the girl asked naively.

"She needs the time to herself, Sweetie. Her playing her guitar like that is her way of saying 'I want to be left alone.'"

"Then it isn't like she's supposed to take…um…"

"Only if she wants to, Sweetie," Donna replied. "Does she?"

"I don't know, Aunt Donna."

"Do you want her to?" Donna asked the girl.

"I want her to be happy," Tina replied, not caring what the answer was, so long as Sam could be happy.

"Out of the mouths of babes…" Donna said with a small, but determined smile. "Give your Auntie Donna a hug, Sunshine," Donna said, as she felt at peace for the first time in a long time.

*************************

"Sam?" Tina knocked on the door again. The music stopped. "Sam, please let me in." She waited a minute. "Sam… please?"

Sam opened the door and, turning her back on Tina, walked back to her bed. Tina quietly closed the door behind her and went to her friend. Tina embraced her from behind.

"I told you once that I loved you," Tina said quietly into Sam's hair. "That I would love you as a woman or a man to a woman or a man. That hasn't changed, Sam. That won't ever change. I'll love you in all ways, always."

Sam burst into tears. "I don't know what to do, Tee."

It took a while, but Sam finally calmed down enough to be able to talk with Tina. They were sitting on the bed facing each other.

"In case you were wondering," Tina said with a determination she did not feel, "your mom told me what she thinks you should do."

"Let me guess," Sam said derisively, "she thinks I should ask for my old clothes back and let my hair grow long."

"Try again," Tina said, her gaze boring into Sam's eyes.

Tina's words shocked Sam. Once they finally registered, she seemed to fly into a tearful rage. "She wants me to take them?!?" Sam waved the prescriptions in the air violently and fairly screeched with incredulity, disbelieving -- even for the briefest of moments -- that her mother would condone, much less encourage, such a thing. She slammed the papers back down on the bed for emphasis.

Tina shook her head. "She wants you to do what will make you happy. "

"Happy, that's a laugh. What IS happy, Tina? Seriously, I don't have a clue. Every time things seem to be going well enough to make me think I'm happy, I wind up getting the shit beat out of me, or someone does something to someone I love. Is that what happiness is? Being grateful that, today, you didn't get any bruises? Or that the last beating didn't kill you? How about, that your friend, the one you love more than anything else in the world, only got grabbed, not raped?"

Tina shuddered and pulled Sam into a hug. She held on in silence. Finally she spoke. "For me, happiness is a warm Sam," she whispered in the girl's ear.

Sam bristled and started to pull away. "Would you be serious?!?"

"I AM! In case you haven't noticed, Sam, you make me happy by just being here. For me, you are what makes me happy. The way of life I choose is just a matter of what makes me more comfortable. It's what makes my life liveable, bearable. YOU are what makes me happy."

Sam just shook her head. "I wish it were so easy."

"Maybe, just maybe -- with time -- it will be, Sam. For now, all we have to do is think about what will make us more comfortable. Happiness is something we find along the way, if we allow ourselves to find it."

"Since when did you become such a philosopher?" Sam was becoming sarcastic.

"Since I started thinking about how I felt when I saw a girl staring back at me from the mirror."

"But you're different," Sam shot at her.

"Am I so different? Look in the mirror." Tina forcibly turned Sam to face the mirror. Sam just stared at her feet. "Look. Come on, LOOK! What do you see? Ignore the bruises. Come on… tell me. What do you see?"

Sam stared in the mirror. She looked from face to face and just stared. She didn't know what to say. "I see us."

"That's a start. What about us? What do you see?"

"I…I see my best friend in the world… holding me and forcing me to stare at a mirror."

Tina shook her head. "Sam, when I started running around in skirts, I had to come to terms with what I saw in the mirror. The next morning, after my shower, SHE was still staring back at me. Washing the makeup off and slicking my hair back didn't change what I saw. No matter how hard I looked, THE GIRL in the mirror kept looking back.

I had to be able to say I like what I see. I was scared to admit that I liked what I saw. It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. When I look at you, I like what I see. But for me, it doesn't matter what you look like. Man or woman, I like what I see. The question is, do you like it? When you look in the mirror, do you like what you see? Do you like the short hair? Do you want to start seeing muscles? Maybe you'd like some facial hair? Is that what you want to see? Or do you want the image to keep looking the way it does now?

I like what I see in me. Whether or not I choose to have the surgery, I'll stay this way. But what about you?"

"But what will people think if they…"

"What do those other people think about ME, Sam?" Tina asked with tears in her eyes and steel in her voice.

The question seemed to stop Sam in her tracks. She literally stood there in shock.

"THINK ABOUT IT!" Tina continued, almost harshly. "Do you live with those other people?"

Sam shook her head.

"Are they going to be there when you need someone to hold on to?"

Sam shook her head again.

"Do you REALLY CARE what they think?"

"I … No."

"Look in the mirror, Sam. Keep looking. Look every day. When you like what you see, then that's what's right for you."

"So, what do I do with these?" Sam asked, feebly waving her prescriptions at Tina.

"Are they part of what you want to see?" Tina asked quietly.

"I don't know," Sam croaked in reply.

"Then you can leave them on the dresser, throw them out, or get them filled. Any of those actions won't change what you see. It's when you use what they represent that things start to change."

"So what should I do?"

"Get them filled. That way, if you decide you want to use them, they're there. If you decide not to use them, throw them out. The trashcan's right there. It's that simple."

They sat on the bed and just hugged each other for a while.

"Come on, I think your mother needs a hug."

"Yeah."

*************************

Tina sat at the table in the kitchen, her gaze alternating between the prescriptions, Donna and Sam's face.

"So, have you decided whether of not you want to use them?" Donna asked quietly, still holding onto Sam.

"No, just to get them filled," came Sam's quiet reply.

"I see," Donna said flatly. "Feel like going to the pharmacy with me? I called Jan and told her about Tina's new prescriptions. She asked me if I wouldn't mind getting them filled. We can get yours filled at the same time."

Sam looked at Tina. Tina nodded her head. "Yeah, Ma, let's go," Sam said with a determination she did not feel.

*************************

When the pharmacist read the scripts, he looked at Donna quizzically. "This will take about twenty minutes, Ma'am," he said. His tone was sarcastic and condescending. He looked back at the scripts and asked, "Are you aware of what these are?"

"Yes, young man, I'm perfectly aware of what they are," Donna replied icily.

Shaking his head in disgust the pharmacist said, "They'll be ready in about twenty minutes. I'm not sure if I have the Depo-Provera, Testosterone Cypionate and the Methyl Testosterone in stock. They aren't something that I get calls for everyday, you know," the sarcasm was getting thicker by the word. "If I have to order them, it'll take two or three days to get them in. Is that okay with you?" He was well past impertinent, he was passing judgement on the girls.

"Yes, if you don't have them, you will give us a call when you do, will you not?" Donna asked in a very cool tone.

"If you like."

"I'd like," she continued. "Please fill the prescriptions. And in the future, keep your opinions to yourself."

The Pharmacist started to reply, but though better of it. "My apologies, Ma'am," he said sarcastically as he shook his head and went back to his work.

Standing off to one side and out of sight of the pharmacist, Tina and Sam giggled. "I don't think he approves," Sam said.

"Who cares?" Tina replied with a smile. "C'mon, let's go see if the new W.E.B. Griffin book is out yet."

"You and your military books," Sam said sarcastically.

"What? You want to look at the romances?" Tina asked, equally sarcastic.

"No! I…" Sam shot back overly defensive.

"You like them, don't you?" Tina prodded.

Sam nodded her head sheepishly and blushed.

Then, as if warming to the topic, and the thought, Tina continued. "I've always wondered what they're like."

"I like them as well," Donna said as she joined the girls. "You know, they can be just as erotic as some of those…stories you've been reading on that computer of yours."

Tina blushed furiously at the woman's words. "C'mon," Tina giggled, "maybe we'll get a few so I can see what's so special about them."

Six romance novels and twenty minutes later, Donna went to collect the prescriptions. The pharmacist was apologetic.

"We didn't have the Testosterone Cypionate, Ma'am, but I was able to locate it at our sister pharmacy downtown. They're sending someone over with it. I should have it for you in a few minutes."

"Thank you." Donna was still angry.

"Ma'am?" the pharmacist asked, apology seeming to fill his voice.

"Yes," Donna said coolly.

"I, umm…I want to apologize for my actions earlier, I…I was out of line."

"What made you change your mind?" Donna's response was aloof, almost cold.

Donna shocked Sam with her reaction to the pharmacist; her attitude was totally out of character.

"I, umm…well, I thought about why…"

"You thought! Are you so sure about that?" she asked, drawing out the word sure and calling him on his lie.

Sam started to giggle. "Mom's on a roll. Look out!" she blurted in a stage whisper.

Tina was busy biting her lip fighting the giggles that rose in her throat.

"No, Ma'am," he said contritely. "I cracked a joke about the prescriptions to the other pharmacist who, umm…gave me some things to, err…think about. I'm sorry."

"He was your boss, wasn't he?"

"Yes, she is."

"Think about how it would feel to need these…these…drugs. Somehow, I don't think you'd be so judgmental if you did. I accept your apology. In the future, I'd think about what you say and how you say it."

"Yes, Ma'am," came the contrite response.

Donna collected the girls and started looking about the shelves of the store.

"Wow, Ma, what got into you? I've never…"

Donna blushed. "He made me mad, Sam. He just…made me mad." They were in the feminine hygiene aisle. "Do you need any thing, Honey?"

Sam picked up a box of tampons and a package of panty shields. "How 'bout you, Tee?" she giggled. "Any particular preference?"

Tina turned crimson. "Sa-am!"

"Come on, you two," Donna said with a laugh, "let's see if they have everything yet. I'd like to get home and get dinner started."

"Why don't you let Mom cook tonight, Aunt Donna? She really does enjoy it, you know."

"I…"

"It's about time you sat back and relaxed, Ma," Sam said. "Let someone else take up some of the slack. Besides, Aunt Jan uses cooking like some people use Prozac. She uses it to unwind and relax. Let her have some fun, too."

"Let's get your medicines. While we're at it, I wonder if they have anything to shut impudent children's mouths."

*************************

The two were sitting in a very nice restaurant. Dr. Eugene Bennett looked resplendent in his new suit. Dr. Eileen Eastman looked beautiful in her Japanese silk evening gown. Their table was in a corner away from the traffic to allow for private conversation.

"I trust you brought your American Express card," Eileen said.

"And my Visa, MasterCard, Diners Club and Discover cards. Would you like to see them?" Eugene Bennett asked with a wry grin.

"No. Just so long as I don't get stuck with the check," Eileen replied coldly.

"What was going through your mind when you prescribed for her, Eugene?" she asked with controlled fury, getting right to the heart of the matter. "What possible reason can you give me for something like that?"

"Eileen, she's a master at hiding her feelings, even from herself," Eugene said clinically.

"I noticed that," Eileen countered, still angry at the turn of events. "But it still doesn't…"

"Is it safe to assume," he interjected, "that when you saw her, she looked and acted like a boy?"

"She did."

"And what was her response when you asked about it?"

"That she isn't comfortable in the typical feminine stereotype and just wants to be what she feels inside. A little of both." It was interesting how Eugene was turning the table from defence to attack. It was Eileen, who was now on the defensive.

"And you didn't get the feeling that she might be hiding from the issue of her gender by using a gender non-specific, or as she likes to put it, non-gender specific role?"

"Actually, I did."

"I spent almost the entire day with those two. The impression I got is that she has become so good at compartmentalizing, that she is now adept at skirting and avoiding issues that bother her."

"So you just decided to go ahead and…"

"No, I'm forcing her to look at the issues. I want her…"

"She's not your patient, she's my client."

"I'm sorry, Eileen. This is the kind of thing that…"

"Relax. Tell me again -- why prescribe if you don't think she's even faced the issuer of her gender yet?"

"You need to knock some of her boxes of issues out of the little cubby-holes that she's set up for them in that mind of hers. Spill their contents all over the place. Make her deal with the issues as she sorts through the contents of her boxes and cleans up the mess."

"So you think shocking her into…"

"I just forced her to look at who and what she is. If you yell at her, she retreats and boxes the comments, questions and results so fast she doesn't see them. Try logic and she files it all away as fast as you give her the issues. She refuses to examine what she has in her hand. You need to force this girl to look at the issues and then let her see what choices and options are available to her.

"I'm letting her know what her alternatives are, in no uncertain terms. I'm giving her a physical reminder of that, in the form of a little piece of paper. A prescription. You have to be blunt with this one, Eileen. If not, you'll waste a lot of time just spinning your wheels while she throws ball bearings under you."

"You think she'd sabotage her own therapy?" Eileen asked. She was shocked at what she was hearing; yet feared that Eugene just might be right.

The waiter came with their orders and all conversation stopped while they were served. Eileen got the surf and turf, Eugene the prime rib.

Once the waiter left the table, Eileen took a sip of the Cabernet Sauvignon. "Delicious… As I was saying, do you think she'd…"

"She's already doing it. Think about it," Eugene said quietly

"You may be right. But I still disagree with your method. What if she actually decides to use those steroids?"

"She won't."

"Pontificating again, Old Man?" Eileen asked as she placed her elbows on the table, laced her fingers together, cradled her chin on their backs and stared down her nose at him.

"Let's call it an informed hunch; intuition, if you will. She might get them filled, but she won't use them."

"All right, Eugene," Eileen said as she sat back up and came to the conclusion that Eugene just might be right. However, it still didn't quite sit right with her that he had, again, prescribed for one of her patients. Whether or not he was right and Samantha actually did not take the drugs. "We'll see. Now, let's address this absolutely marvellous meal. It deserves much more attention than we've been giving it."

**********************

Continued in Part-26

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2004 by Wendy-J. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.