Angel from the Ashes

This is set just before and during the Covid lockdown. I have been working on this on and off for what feels like ages. There were parts that I wasn't happy with so needed time to address the issues. This doesn't focus too much on the actual lockdown, but the journey of my two characters. I hope you enjoy.

This is fiction. This story includes themes of feminisation, cross dressing, lingerie, hosiery, heels and romance. This may be another small series.

All parties are over 18 years.

I was reflecting on the changes in my life over the past months and the milestones. I reread my journal and smiled at the key date when life took an unexpected direction. No I'm not a hobbit, I wasn't off to seek fame and fortune, but I had no idea what was going to happen. Life does that to us sometimes: we become accustomed to the consistent repeated activities. For me much of that was combinations of: work, sleep, eat with an occasional social event with friends or work colleagues.

Saturday March 21 2020

It was a mid-morning when my life turned unpredictably upside down. I was stood in the pouring rain watching my apartment block burn. The rain wasn't doing much to put the fire out even though it was a downpour. Everything that was combustible in the block was ablaze. Flames reached out of windows like tentacles of a huge roused angry fire beast. Everyone had safely evacuated and we huddled together in the small park on the opposite side of the road. A dozen fire trucks were in attendance. Multiple hoses were aimed at openings and more water as pumped onto the roof as the fire broke free.

By chance and some luck I had my laptops: both work and personal with associated technology in my rucksack. I had stuffed my wallet and mobile phone in my jacket pockets when the alarm had sounded. We were lucky it hadn't been the middle of the night. I was at least dressed. I had grabbed my rucksack and jacket as we evacuated. Everything else looked to be a complete loss.

After thirty minutes of watching flames and smoke dance towards the heavens we were taken to the local church hall. Oh the irony- an act of god had destroyed our homes and we were offered sanctuary by the local church. At least we were out of the rain. The driving rain had dripped from my hair, down my neck and into my shirt. We were given hot drinks, later hot vegetable soup by the church volunteers. They were lovely people that wanted to help: I could only praise their charity and generosity. I stood with a blanket around my shoulders. I checked in with my neighbours offering a smile, a handshake, a hug or a shoulder to cry on. I knew most of neighbours well and it was hard to see them distraught. Even grumpy old Mr Evans smiled when I shook his hand.

I find it amazing that the 'normal' barriers collapse in the time of crisis. We were bound together by misfortune. I saw Mr Singh with his recognisable turban hug Mrs Abdullah with her hijab. The local Catholic priest was knelt beside Mrs Levenson- an elderly Jewish lady that taught piano. I smiled- humanity at its best.

Two hours later the senior fire officer reported that the main fire was extinguished. They were still making the area safe, but it would take some time. The housing block wouldn't be fit for habitation. It wasn't safe for anyone to return to their homes. The council and speciality teams would be securing the area. I don't think they were worried about theft- there as probably nothing worth stealing and was more a case of safety. He suggested that people stay with other family members until other permanent arrangements could be put into action. Anyone that needed help would need to talk with the council representative.

This presented me with my next challenge. My father was in New York on an overseas assignment, my mother didn't work so had accompanied him. My older brother was living and working in Singapore. I had elected to remain near London as I had a good job after university. I was working towards a promotion. I would have to call some friends and see if I could crash on a floor. My phone rang. I noted the call ID. It was Micky, also known as my best friend Michaela, but had been Micky to me from our first day at school. Now more than twenty years later we were still close.

"Hi Micky, how are you?"

"I'm fine. I just saw your place on the news. Are you okay?"

"We're all good, everyone was evacuated. Everyone's safe."

"Well that's a relief that everyone is safe. So how bad is it?" she asked.

"I need to find alternative accommodations."

"Come here, stay with me," she instructed me.

"I don't want to be in your way."

"You're never in my way and I need to see you: I need to know you're safe. I know it's not logical, I know I'm talking with you, but please, please do this for me. You need me to drive out to collect you? You have a couple of suitcases?"

"Okay you win, but I'll get a cab. I 'll explain everything when I see you."

"Okay, love you my Angel. See you soon."

So my parents had named me Gabriel, but since our first Christmas play at school I had been Angel. Almost of my friends, and many of my work colleagues know me as Angel. I received some teasing. Playful comments like: where's Buffy, where do you hide your wings, and have you dropped your halo? It was playful banter. It was part of who I was.

"Love you more Micky."

I left my contact details with the lady from the council. I called a cab company I used, within thirty minutes had arrived at Micky's house. Micky opened the door having seen my arrival. My best friend was curvy with a mass of dark glossy curly hair with big expressive dark brown eyes. She was in blue jeans and a dark red woollen jumper.

"Where's your luggage?" she asked.

"I saved my rucksack. It could have been worse: everyone is safe. Furniture, clothes and stuff can be replaced. I'm just happy I digitised all of our photographs. They're safe in the cloud."

"So it's really, really bad, then?"

"I don't think there will be much to reclaim. I wanted a bigger TV anyway. Everything is insured."

Micky hugged me tightly.

"You smell like a damp dog that's been digging in a bonfire, you look like a rat that's been dragged backwards through a mud pile. Is that ash on your face?"

"Thanks, I love you too," I said with a laugh sniffing my sleeve.

"Yes, that wasn't nice was it? Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive, but you're right: I do need a wash. Or I can stand in the rain and let it rinse off."

"No, no, no! You'll catch cold. Don't be silly. Come inside, let me look after you. Have you eaten?"

"I had a mug of soup at the church hall."

"Okay, first we get you a hot drink, then a wash, some clean, dry clothes, then I'll order some hot food," she decided gently taking charge.

I set my rucksack on the kitchen table. Micky boiled the kettle before sitting at the table and holding my hand.

"You're freezing. We need you out of those cold wet clothes," she observed.

She adjusted the thermostat increased the heating.

"Let me drink this lovely tea, then you can see me naked," I joked.

I cradled the mug in both hands feeling warmth return to my fingers. I sipped the hot invigorating tea. We sat for five minutes as I drank my tea. I learned that the event had been captured by a local news team. Micky gazed at me-I felt she was inspecting my soul for imperfections.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing, just making sure you're okay. Are you feeling warmer?" she asked tipping her head to one side.

The Micky head tip as I think of it: I find it so adorable, no-one else I know does it, so it was unique to my lovely Micky. It reminded me of a puppy when it hears someone call its name.

"I'm fine. I'm a bit warmer. Thank you for the tea."

"Come on, let's get you and your clothes washed."

I followed her upstairs to the bathroom.

"You can shower or take a bath: there's lots of hot water. Take your clothes off. Drop them outside the door. I'll wash them in the machine."

She indicated shampoo, conditioner, shower gel and towels. She left me to get clean. I undressed, set the pile of clothing outside as instructed. I entered the shower cubicle. It was as promised lovely hot water. The wash products had a nice smell. It was different to my normal scent, but so much better than smoke, scorched wood and burnt plastic. I wrapped a towel around my waist. I dried my hair roughly. I towelled my body dry. I'm no way a gym bunny or anything, but I am lean and toned. I left the bathroom. My longish dark hair felt softer. Micky met me in the hallway.

"Are you staying like that?" she asked.

"It might have escaped your notice I only have the clothes I arrived in," I laughed.

"And they're in the washer... um, you'll catch cold. Come with me."

"Just give me a blanket I'll be fine," I said already feeling warmer than earlier.

I no longer had cold wet clammy clothing against my skin so I was happy. Micky rummaged in a drawer finding a pair of black panties.

"Try these!" she instructed.

"You're going to dress me up?" I joked.

"You're similar in build to me I guess."

"I don't think so: you have such lovely and exquisite thoracic embellishments."

"You mean I have nice boobs?"

"Yes, that too," I laughed.

She found a pale blue sports top.

"Here, try this, it's quite stretchy, it might cover your boobs," she teased.

"I don't have boobs, they're pecs!" I defended, but slipped the top on anyway.

It was tighter and softer than my normal clothes, but felt rather comfortable. It did look like I had small boobs.

"Jeans aren't going to work: your lower body is just the wrong shape. You have a bigger waist than me. It would be easy if you just wore tights and a skirt, but I guess that's a step too far, right?"

"Hey, I'm comfortable with my sexuality. I trust you."

"Really? You would wear tights and a skirt?"

"If it means I'm warm, why not? They're just clothes."

She thought for a moment or two. I had no idea what was going through her mind, but made some sort of decision and retrieved a pair of black opaque tights from a drawer.

"You think you can put these on without damaging them?" she asked with a smile.

"I've undressed my share of ladies without ripping their clothes I'll have you know."

She turned her back while I slipped them up my legs. She then handed me a skater skirt with an elasticated waist band. I stepped into it and adjusted.

"How do I look?" I asked.

"Quite good actually, you have nice legs."

I gave a little curtsy which made her laugh.

"So you have washed me and dressed me. Please can we order some food, and I'm paying as a thank you."

"Pizza, Chinese, burgers or fried chicken?" she asked.

"I'd like Chinese, is that okay with you?"

"Yes, let's find the menu."

We selected a number of dishes: ribs, spring rolls, crispy chilli beef, pork fried rice and chicken chow mein. Micky phoned through the order for delivery. I gave her my card for the payment.

"It will be about thirty minutes. You want more tea, or a glass of wine?"

"May I have tea now, and then we can have the wine with dinner?"

"Okay. Once we have eaten, we can go on-line: order you some clothes and anything else you need. Lots of companies have express delivery so you might have some things by tomorrow."

It was Saturday afternoon the shops were open, I could have sent Micky for basic clothes, but for some reason the thought never entered my head. I sent an email using my phone to my parents, my brother and friends to prevent anyone from worrying in case they saw a news report about the fire. We drank tea. I sat on a kitchen chair.

"You should really keep your knees together," she prompted.

"What?"

"Ladies keep their knees together so people don't see up their skirts. You don't want to be flashing your knickers at everyone."

"Oh, right," I agreed adjusting my posture.

"You seem quite relaxed?"

"I feel warm and comfortable," I said honestly.

"I have known you almost my entire life and I never imagined I would have you in my kitchen dressed like a girl."

"I have dressed as a girl a couple of times for fancy dress and Halloween," I admitted.

We chatted about the few times I had dressed as a girl. Micky remembered them. I received a number of responses from friends, some were offering help, others a place to stay: it's when there is a crisis you know who your true friends are. I loved them all. The door chimed. Dinner had arrived. We ate our food: it was complimented with a nice bottle of Italian white wine. We sat in the lounge on her sofa. I remembered to keep my knees together.

"Washed? Check. Dressed? Check. Warm? Check. Fed and watered? Double checked. Spending time with my best friend? Check. Happy? Check," I reported.

"You seem very relaxed about everything. Are you really okay?" she asked sincerely.

"Yes, I'm good. I accept the things I can't change. Crying won't fix things. Anyway, I have the privilege to spend some time with you. I'm good honest!"

"You know you can talk to me."

"Yes, in the event I need to unburden my soul I will tell you."

"We need to order you some clothes."

"Ah yes, that we do."

I retrieved my laptop. We sat side by side. I was aware of the warmth of her body and the irony she wore jeans while I wore a skirt. Once connected to her wi-fi I went to one of my internet sites where I bought most of my clothes from. I selected a couple of t-shirts in navy, grey and black.

"Wait a minute, why are you going all drab?" she asked.

"Drab?" I asked.

"Why don't you have some colour: red, orange or pink?"

"Okay, I will add a red t-shirt."

I added to the basket. I repeated with shirts: five white shirts for work and then another five in dark colours. She shook her head, and took control of my laptop. She cancelled the grey ones and replaced them with a pale blue and a pink one. I then moved onto boxer shorts selecting a multipack in black and socks. Then I found a pair of black trousers and blue jeans. I added work shoes. I checked the basket to complete the transaction.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"That will do for now. What now?"

"We can chill out: do you want to watch a movie?"

"Sure, but please no mushy stuff."

The evening flew by. I checked the clock- I saw it was approaching ten in the evening.

"What's the sleeping arrangement? Do I get the sofa with a blanket?" I asked.

"Is there something wrong with sleeping in a bed?" she countered with a grin.

"I thought you only had one bedroom?"

"Yes, with one bed, but it's a double."

"You want me to share your bed?"

"Yes, you do know how to sleep, don't you? Close your eyes and rest. I'm not asking you to marry me or anything," she qualified with a laugh.

"I love hearing you laugh. Okay, I'll sleep in your bed. Thank you. I hope you don't snore and stay on your side," I responded.

"I don't snore!" she said smacking my thigh.

"Ow, be gentle with me I've had a bad day."

"Oh, poor baby! Let's go to bed. To sleep!" she chuckled.

"Okay, I get it."

I was led upstairs to the bedroom. The small house was basically two rooms downstairs: lounge and kitchen diner, matched upstairs by the bedroom and bathroom with a small hallway and stairs linking them together. The bedroom was clearly a female space. Light oak furniture: two double wardrobes, chest of drawers, and dressing table. Cream bed linen guarded by a small stuffed bear that sat on the pillow.

"I'm not sharing with him: he looks like trouble," I said indicating the bear.

"Boris stays, he's been with me longer than you have," she said.

"He must be so old."

"Well you are older than me by three weeks!" she retorted playfully throwing a pillow at me.

I caught it with one hand and set it on the bed.

"Micky, why aren't you settled down, you know, with someone special?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't know, too much woman for some, too independent for others, too dominant for the rest. I want someone who's reliable like a Volvo, but looks and drives like a Ferrari with the running costs of a Mini," she said hugging me.

She kissed my forehead like she had a hundred times, or may be a thousand times before. Micky has always been tactile, but especially with me.

"Do you want a satin nightdress, oversize T-shirt or some pyjama bottoms?"

"I normally just sleep in my shorts, but I don't want to weird you out, how about a T-shirt to hide my boobs?" I joked.

"I have shorts and a vest," she offered.

"Okay that works."

She retrieved a cream set of shorts and vest. The vest had very thin straps almost like boot laces, but were satin. They felt soft in my hands. Micky found a second set in red.

"Put these on. I'll use the bathroom then you can go. We will need to visit the supermarket tomorrow for more food and you'll need a toothbrush."

She left me to remove the skirt and top, the warm thick tights and panties. I slipped into the slippery, shiny, soft satin and shivered. Micky returned in her nightwear.

"You look really good, ever thought of being a catalogue lingerie model?" I asked.

"No, have you?"

"Touche!"

I took my turn in the bathroom. I returned to the bedroom. Micky was already in bed.

"Close the door! Were you born in a barn or something?" she teased.

I stuck my tongue out, but closed the door. I padded to the bed. I slipped under the duvet. Micky turned the light off.

"Sweet dreams Angel."

"You too. Thank you again. I love you Micky."

"Love you my Angel."

The light was switched off. I was clean, warm and quickly asleep.

I woke sometime in the night. Micky was close behind me, spooning my body with her hand on my thigh. She was soft and warm. I felt her breasts against my back, feeling her gentle breath on my neck. I felt at peace. I closed my eyes. I slept again.

*

Sunday March 22 2020.

I woke, the room was light and I was alone. I visited the bathroom before heading downstairs. I found Micky in a red dress working on her computer. She saw me, smiled, and closed the laptop.

"Good morning Angel, did you sleep okay?"

"Yes, thanks for the cuddles."

"It seems ages since I had someone other than Boris to cuddle. Coffee?"

"Boris? Oh yes the bear! Yes, to coffee please. Are my clothes dry?"

"They are, but I like you like that."

"Deviant!" I teased.

"Oh, are you feeling vulnerable?" she teased hugging me.

I felt her hand squeezing my bum. My cock responded making Micky laugh.

"You're pleased to see me then?"

"Sorry, but you rubbing the satin against my body feels really good."

"I'm pleased you like it. Let's get you dressed then."

She collected my clothes. We returned to the bedroom.

"Take your clothes off," she instructed as she checked her chest of drawers.

I removed the vest. She handed me black satin panties with another pair of black tights.

"I have my shorts and socks now," I said.

"I know, but I would really like you to be my girlfriend for the day. Please wear these for me under your jeans."

"Okay. You want me in a skirt again?"

"I'd like that, I will lend you another skirt when we come back from the supermarket. You want a bacon sandwich for breakfast?"

"Bacon sounds good. Are you bribing me with food?"

"Finish dressing then come back to the kitchen," she kissed me on the cheek leaving me to dress.

I slipped into the panties and tights enjoying the feeling against my body. I pulled on my long sleeved top and jeans. I headed to the kitchen revelling in the feeling of my jeans move against the nylons.

I ate the bacon sandwich quickly not realising how hungry I was. She hugged me grasping my bum cheeks gently.

"How are the tights?"

"Nice and warm thank you, they feel soft against my skin."

"Good. Let's get some groceries."

It was a grey overcast moody day with gusts of wind, and the threat of heavy showers. It was soon raining hard. Micky drove me in her small red hatchback car to the supermarket. I pushed the trolley around as she collected food. I remembered to collect a toothbrush. She asked my opinion once or twice, but she knew me almost as well as I did. There were a couple of times when she was looking at me that I wondered what she was thinking. I paid at the checkout. We bagged our things. I loaded the car.