AP

Fat Johnny nods his head in the direction of the door.

"Oh damn," I say quietly before adding, "Is there an antidote to this stuff, or are the changes..." I gulp, "...permanent?"

Reaching down, Johnny picks up a small box and puts it on the table in front of him. The label on the lid reads 'White Owl Cigars', but Johnny isn't interested in cigars, besides there's only one layer which he strips out revealing several small bottles in the bottom of the box. He lifts one out and hands it to me; it matches the pair I already have, except for its label, a zero with a diagonal line running through it.

"Nothing is forever," he says. "But this will clear away any effects immediately."

"How much do I owe you?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No charge this time Shade." He looks pointedly towards the front of the restaurant before adding, "Be careful."

Nodding, I slip the bottle into my pocket with the others. As I turn away his voice stops me.

"Oh, and Shade..."

"Johnny?"

"Love the new look. It's good to see you looking like a woman for a change, and those shoes are to die for."

I can feel a blush rising, feeling pleased.

"Why thank you Johnny," I say as I turn and head out of the door. I've taken two steps before I stop. 'Why would he compliment my shoes?" I ask myself and look down at my feet. Instead of the usual men's Oxfords, I'm wearing a pair of open toed sandals with three-inch heels, and my toenails are painted the same bright red as my fingers and lips. I walk out in a daze, gathering Angela at the door.

Once we are in the car I think back to earlier in the day. I remember Angela putting on the makeup and then bending down to buckle the sandals before I stood as if it were part of my normal life. As I look down at my feet I feel the hairs rising on my neck. I'd never worn heels, never even painted my toenails before today; how could I not have noticed? Angela breaks my train of thought.

"What now my love?" she asks.

I look at her for a moment, as I struggle to slow the frantic beating of my heart before replying.

"Well, The Pink Pussycat Club won't be open for four hours yet," I glance at her as I pull out into the traffic. "Why don't we go to my place, I think we need to talk." AP - Chapter 5, Angela

Driving back to my apartment, I marvel at how much I've changed in the last couple of days. First, going to bed with a woman. I look at her and correct myself, robot. Then the makeup, nail polish, hair down and high heels. Glancing at the polish on my fingers, and the sandals on my feet I realize how much I like this new look, and the feelings that come with it. Removing a hand from the wheel, I lay it on her leg and feel the comforting addition of Angela's hand resting on mine.

Reaching the complex I lead her up the steps to my apartment, opening the door and ushering her in. "Welcome to my humble abode," I tell her, though looking round I realize how mannish it must appear to her. "I'm sorry..." I mumble, feeling somehow I've let her down.

Angela turns to me, seeming to flow into my arms. As she hugs me and kisses me, I hear her voice soft and husky in my ear. "You worry too much Sam, its fine, honestly it is."

I take the bottles of capture scent out of my pocket and leave them on the coffee table along with the antidote before removing my trench coat and shoulder holsters. "Can I get you anything?" I ask as I go into the kitchenette to pour myself a stiff one.

Angela's voice drifts in from the living room, like music to my ears. "Anything you fancy is fine by me."

Pouring three fingers of bourbon into a pair of glasses I return to the living room. Angela is sitting on the couch; her coat and shoulder holsters have been laid on top of mine. Sitting down beside her I hand her one of the glasses and take a big sip, almost gagging on the sharp taste of the raw alcohol.

"You bought the capture scent from Fat Johnny," I tell her.

Angela looks at me solemnly." Yes Samantha, I did.

"Why?"

"To make sure you'd help me find Alvin."

"And in the car?" I ask. For the first time she looks away.

"Because I love you, and wanted you to love me back." Nervously her eyes come back to mine. I sit there, shocked; not just by her words, but by her movements. It was like watching a human struggling against a robot.

"But you only love me because of a command I gave you," I tell her.

She shakes her head.

"You're wrong Samantha. Alvin told me one day I'd find the one I was to devote my life to. My true love he called it." She reaches out, takes my hand and looks deeply into my eyes. "You are the one," she says, "You are that true love."

I shake my head. "No. It's just a command line Angela, it's not real." I look down at her hand resting in mine and whisper softly, "I only wish it were."

"I'll prove it," she tells me. "Remove the commands Samantha, and I'll still love you."

Getting up I go to the bedroom and recover my little black book from its hiding place. Inside I kept a copy of the codes Jimmy the Geek had given me. Angela was still on the couch, watching me closely with a tear running down her cheek. Sitting beside her I kiss the tear away and taste its saltiness on the tip of my tongue. Opening the book, I ran my eye over the codes. My mind was torn with indecision, what if I was right, what if she doesn't really love me?

"Read them Samantha," her voice was soft in my ear.

Turning to Angela I kiss her hard and fast before looking down at the book and reading the codes out loud.

"Command override priority Alpha Beta Gamma X-ray Kilo Niner." I look at Angela, sitting frozen in place beside me, and my heart sinks. A large part of me wanted her to be real and not an AP. "How do you feel about Samantha Shade?" I ask her.

"I'm in love with her." Angela's reply comes in a flat, emotionless voice.

"Remove program."

She closes her eyes. "Ready," she says, and I swallow uneasily.

"Remove all program entries relating to the names Shade, Sam and Samantha in any combination," I tell her.

"Processing... complete." She opens her eyes, staring off into the distance. I take a deep breath and ask her the question I'd rather not ask.

"How do you feel about Samantha Shade?"

"She is my soul mate," comes her reply, "I love her."

My breath explodes out of me, I hadn't realised I was holding it in to that extent. "End program," I say, shocked, and not knowing what else I could say or do.

Angela blinks once and looks at me.

"I love you Samantha Shade," she says. Taking my hands in hers she lifts them to her lips and kisses them gently. "I love you so much. I was wrong to use the capture scent on you, that isn't love." Letting go of my hands she picks up the antidote bottle and sprays me full in the face before I can stop her.

The spray hits me in the face with the force of one of Fat Johnny's right hooks. As I rocked back from it, my world seemed to take one step to the left before clicking back into focus. Shaking my head to clear the last of the haze I give Angela a surprised look. Then I catch sight of my fingers, my nails an inch long instead of the short, stubby broken ones they'd been a few days ago. My hair is also a good four inches longer than it had been; I look at her in confusion.

"How did you? Why did you?" The questions came tumbling from my lips.

Angela looks at me with a shy smile on her face.

"Forced growth treatment," she explains, "And as to the why - you wanted me to."

I think back to the moment I asked her to do my makeup, when I close my eyes it comes rushing back to me. I can hear myself begging her to make myself beautiful; tears well up and I sob with the realization of how plain I was before she came along, how ugly.

"Thank you for making me beautiful," I tell her.

"You're welcome my love," she answers.

I stand, my legs are shaky but I pick up my drink, walk across to the window and stare down at the street below. A car moves slowly, searching for a parking spot, an old lady walks her dog. I see them but my mind is elsewhere. Her reply has struck a chord in me, a longing for something lost. Looking out, I find myself looking in, trying to analyze my feelings. For years I've walked alone, but the last two days, even knowing I wasn't myself, have been the happiest time I can remember; and yet when I ask myself the question 'do I love Angela?' The answer is yes, no, I don't know.

I hear her call my name from the couch and turn to look at her. It's like she can read my mind.

"I'm sorry," she says, "I didn't mean to hurt you Samantha...I love you too much for that."

Without thinking further I decide what I must do. Walking back to Angela, I leave my glass on the coffee table and sit beside her, reaching for the capture scent and spritzing a little on her neck. Looking her in the eye I catch a hint of the aroma,

"Help me," I say. "Make me happy Angela, make me as beautiful as you, and make me yours." Wrapping my arms around her I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the scent and kissing her neck as she holds my head in place, cooing to me like a dove.

Snip. Time passes, and when I come to the sun is going down. I don't feel any different and look up at Angela with confusion. "What's wrong?" I ask, "Didn't it take love?" She strokes my hair lightly.

"It's okay Samantha, we'll worry about that after we find Alvin."

Sitting up, I smile and kiss her again, "Good idea sweet angel. I glance at my watch, "We'll just be in time for the opening of The Pink Pussycat." I turn back to Angela and take her hands in mine. "Frankie Desalvo is king of the underworld here, getting in to see him will be a lot harder than getting past the two goons we dealt with earlier."

I pause to think a moment. "We need a plan." Slowly a smile spreads across my face. "I think I have it," I tell her as I look at the bottles of capture scent. AP - Chapter 6, Frankie Desalvo

No one had seen Frankie Desalvo outside of the 'Family'; he was a man of mystery and had the town clowns in his pocket. If there was something illegal going on in the city, odds were that Frankie either had his hands in it or was getting a cut of the profits. It was rumoured that he ran his whole operation out of a back room in The Pink Pussycat Club and it was there that Angela and I were headed.

I park the car in the lot in front of the club; it was doing brisk business even for a weeknight. As I start to open the door a thought came to me. I turn to Angela and rest my hand on her wrist.

"Does capture scent affect you?" I ask. She looks at me.

"Only if you wish it to Samantha, and then only if you are wearing it," she says softly, before adding. "I'm yours and no one will ever change that."

I give Angela's hand a squeeze and open the door. I'd been toying with the idea of packing the weapons into the club, but knew that even with my plan we'd stand zero chance of getting into the lion's den with them. Walking round to the rear of the car I nod to Angela.

"It's time," I tell her. We both remove our trench coats and holsters and place them in the trunk along with the weapons. Before slamming the lid, I undo a couple of buttons on my shirt and reveal more cleavage. Turning to Angela I take the male scent and hand it to her before applying the female version to myself.

"Good luck love," she says as she hands the bottle back. I watch her move closer and start to inhale the scent I'm wearing. "Mmmm, you smell good," she says breathlessly.

"Good luck," I say, returning her kiss, but as she snuggle up to me and nuzzles my neck, I stop her. "No angel, this scent isn't for you." I smile as she calms down and a pout crosses her kissable lips. I take her arm in mine and pat it gently. "Now don't forget your part," I say as we walk to the door.

"I won't Samantha," she says, putting on a bright and winning smile as we walk up to the doorman.

The goon looks as though he was cast from the same mould as Fat Johnny's thugs. He holds his hand against my chest, stopping me at the door.

"Sorry ladies, I'm afraid this is a private club."

I slide to the side until his hand is resting against my breast and listen to Angela's sultry voice.

"Are you sure you can't make an exception for us," she says, moving close and caressing his cheek with her hand. "I'd be really grateful if you could do that for us."

I smile and wink at Angela before turning back to the guard and gesturing towards the bushes to one side of the door.

"Why don't you go over there and think about time alone with us," I tell him. He just stands there with a dazed look on his face till Angela chimes in.

"Yes, why don't you do what she says, and don't stop until I tell you."

She winks back at me, smiling as he moves off towards the bushes and a moment later we hear the sound of a zipper and soft moans.

Inside the club, we're stopped by a pair of goons that remind me of Mutt and Jeff. "Sorry sister, no women allowed," says the one to the right; beyond him I can see the club. It looks like any other strip club with its cluster of center poles, around which several women are gyrating slowly, doing things I'd not have believed had I not seen them with my own eyes.

Angel moves in close and strokes both men's faces.

"We have an appointment with Frankie," she says. Dragging my attention away from the floor show, I add,

"It's a surprise."

The men's eyes glaze over and Angela slides her hand down one of their chests.

"Why don't you escort us back to Frankie's office like a good little boy," she tells him, before turning to the second guard. "You can stay here and think about your reward for being a good boy while watching the door."

The man turns away and starts heading across the club. Taking Angela's arm in mine we walk behind him as if this is an everyday occurrence. Behind us I hear the telltale sound of a zipper being lowered and giggle. Tilting my head towards her I whisper softly, "Almost there my love, good thinking."

At the far end of the club floor we stop at a door marked 'Janitor'. The man knocks and pokes his head round the door.

"Visitors Boss," he announces. From my position I can't hear the reply, but the man says, "They have an appointment." More words before he adds "It's a surprise."

Angela leans forward, "A surprise from the boys," she says, and listens as the goon parrots her words.

After a moment more the man turns to us, "Da boss says you can go in," he says.

"Good boy," replies Angela, "Why don't you stand guard out here so we won't be disturbed with Frankie?"

Giving her a tight squeeze I walk into the office and stand before the most powerful man in the city. My mind locks up at my first sight of Frankie Desalvo; he is a she. Before I can stop myself I blurt out my reaction. "A woman, you're a woman."

"Come on in Shade," says Frankie, "And bring your friend with you."

Looking at her, I'd never have dreamt she was she was the head of the city's largest crime syndicate. She looks like a mirror image of the sex bots.

"Frankie?" I say, "You're Frankie Desalvo?" She stands, walking round her desk hugging me first and then Angela

"And you are Samantha Shade," she says, before glancing at Angela, "And friend. She looks back at me and smiles. "So to what do I owe the honour of your visit?"

I feel as though I've stepped into a cobra's nest when I was expecting bunny rabbits. "I'd like to ask you a few questions Frankie...if I may." I notice her moving closer to me and inhaling the scent deeply.

"Sure Samantha...but first...I love that perfume you..." Her eyes widen as she realises her danger. "Capture scent," she whispers before diving for her desk.

Moving fast Angela and I stop her in her tracks. I smile as I hold her struggling form. "No, don't fight it Frankie...relax and be my good girl...be my good girl." I repeat my mantra over and over again, stroking her face gently as I do so. "Good girl, be a good girl Frankie."

Slowly she relaxes and begins to repeat my mantra, "Good girl," she says, relaxing and moving into my arms moaning with pleasure.

I guide her over to one of the chairs and sit her down before sitting beside her. "You saw a man named Alvin Williams didn't you?" I say. She nods, looking at me with a dreamy expression on her face. Looking up at Angela, I find myself wondering whether I looked that way when under the influence. "Why did you see him?" I asked. "Why did you see him Frankie?"

She smiles, and starts to giggle like a schoolgirl. "Because I wanted to."

I scowl at her, the last thing I needed at that point was bullshit.

"Why did you want to see him Frankie?" I asked her again.

"He was supposed to have the perfect robot." She looks at me, pouting. "Only he didn't. It was all fake, a con job to get money." She pouts a little more. "I could have been rich."

"What did you do to him when you learned the truth?" I ask, taking another look at Angela. I was worried about what might happen if she found out Alvin was feeding the fishes.

"I kicked him out."

"He left with a Rachel9 unit," I said, not believing her. "You know that to make me happy you have to tell the truth don't you Frankie?"

She looks at me with those big doe eyes of hers. "He rented the unit and left," she says.

I move across to Angela. "What do you think?" I ask her. Frankie is sitting there looking at me with devotion in her eyes, "And what do we do with her now?"

Angela looks from me to Frankie, "I think...I think she's telling the truth, as far as she knows." Her eyes switched back to mine slowly, "Doesn't she look a lot like the dancers?" she says.

I smile at Angela and give her a quick kiss before turning to Frankie.

"Take off your clothes," I tell her. As she strips down I look her over. My first thought was correct, either Frankie was the model for the Rachel9 units or she'd had plastic surgery to make herself look like one of them. I rest my hands on either side of her face. "You're in for a treat," I tell her.

Frankie smiles up at me and nuzzles my hands with her face as though she were a cat and listens carefully.

"You are a Rachel9 unit...living only for pleasure," I tell her, moving one hand to cup her breast and pinch her nipple. "When the club closes you will come back here and go to sleep." I smile as she nods at my words. "By day you will be Frankie Desalvo and by night Rachel9."

Frankie smiles and repeats my words, "Day Frankie Desalvo, night Rachel9."

Nodding, I agree. "That's right, day Frankie, night Rachel9."

I look around for a cloth and, not able to find one, lift my skirt and remove my panties. 'Skirt?' I think to myself and flash a questioning look at Angela. All I get in return is a smile. 'Never mind,' I think to myself, 'I'll have to deal with that later.' Taking the female scent I spray the crotch of my panties and hand them to Frankie.

"Here," I say, "Smell them...worship them."

Frankie rubs the panties over her face, nuzzling them and absorbing their scent as I continue with her instructions.

"Every night at 9.30, I want you to make sure you're alone. When you are alone you will worship the panties I've given you so you can become Rachel9." Frankie nods as she holds the panties to her face. "Good girl," I tell her. "Now get dressed and put the panties somewhere safe."

Frankie gets dressed, walks round behind her desk and opens a floor safe, taking a last nuzzle at my panties before locking them away. "When 9.30 strikes, remember what you must do," I tell her. Turning to Angela I ask her quietly. "What do you think my love?"

Angela nods and raises a finger. "One more thing," she says, turning towards Frankie and speaking her name. "Frankie, you will remember Samantha coming and talking to you, but you didn't help her and sent her packing." She pauses a moment before adding, "Do you understand?"