Switched Ch. 04

"That was the best sex I've ever had," he murmured, and I clung to him and nodded, unable to speak.

Dawn had broken. Sunlight slanted through the window and illuminated my reflection so I could see my wild, hacked-off hair from the hedge trimmer and the words in lipstick on the mirror:

"Thank you. No regrets. I love you."

*

Easter Basket

Jessica

In the morning I awoke to see him standing there, dressed. "Let's go fishing," he suggested.

My cheeks heated, remembering waking up in the middle of the night with Bryan on top of me. We'd done it one more time slowly, without a word said.

My heart said, 'noooo let's cuddle instead' but my head said, 'I think we've done enough throwing ourselves at him for now.'

I got up and got ready, then we got our stuff and went. I was so sleepy I nearly forgot to deactivate Jezebel first.

The world was as still as a postcard, flocked with curlicues of mist. The air carried the scent of cold and the sweet, green smell of the vines. Barely a word was said to disturb the quiet.

After the sun had risen and banished the shadows to little puddles, we were at our second spot, the 8th Street Bridge. The stillness was infectious and by now we were rod and reel bearing statues. Between us stood a big purple Easter basket where we kept our catches.

The silence was killing me. His silence.

I glanced at him for the second time in an hour. Maybe he was a little glum, certainly he was tired. There was just a hint of a smile there, if I squinted.

I glanced again, hoping he'd notice and look around, but he continued to be a statue.

I waited.

Another glance, same results. This time I didn't look away again but stared at him.

His eyes flickered. He began to look uneasy. Yes, I'd been noticed this time.

What was he thinking? Had we just made the biggest mistake of our lives? Was he regretting everything? Was I bad in bed?

Hah. I was not bad in bed!

I threw down the rod and jumped on him. Literally jumped on him, grabbed on with my arms and legs and hoped for the best.

He shouted and lurched, nearly overbalancing, but he didn't drop me. He let go of his rod and it teetered dangerously on the railing but didn't fall in.

I stuck my tongue in his ear. He squealed and laughed but he couldn't get away, so he staggered drunkenly around for some time.

His cheek was stubbly when I kissed it. I couldn't resist one more lick across his ear before I climbed off him.

I didn't let go, though. He seemed to see me for the first time since we'd gone out this morning. I shivered hopefully under his attention.

"Hey," he said with a tender voice. His eyes were so kind and worried.

"I have no regrets," I said.

His hands settled on my hips and my body quivered under his touch. No, no regrets at all.

"Me either." His smile was genuine.

"Then what have we been doing all morning?"

"Thinking you had regrets. I thought you would want to, I don't know. Never mind."

"No, tell me."

"Nah."

"Tell me!"

"I thought you'd want to cuddle or something. It's stupid."

"I wanted to. I did. I was just afraid that I'd gone too far last night and I didn't want to scare you off."

"Too far? You mean all those little love bites you gave me?"

He pulled down the neck of his shirt and displayed a cluster of little hickeys on his chest. The memory of making them flashed through my mind.

He looked at me like I was a fairytale come to life and said, "You're cute when you blush."

I kissed him. I could smell the sun warming his face. "Let's get outta here," I said.

He picked me up and carried me home. At least, he carried me halfway home before he set me down and I had to walk.

He took my hand along the way. All my little slivers of concern grew into full-blown worries by the time we got to the house and passed through the man-eating plant.

"What happened to your hair?" he asked.

"I had to make a choice," I said, and surprised him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey," I said in the living room. "What do you think we are?"

"Why do I have to decide?"

"You don't, I just want to know what I'm dealing with here. If the pussy made you catch feels."

"Aw, shit," he laughed, then sobered. He considered me for a long while, then reached for my hand again. He said, "The truth is, I can't figure out why not. You're my best friend and you're my lover. What else is there?" He laughed a little. "What else could I want?"

"So we're friends who fuck."

He squinted. "Do you really want to be somebody's girlfriend?"

"Gross," I lied.

Neither of us mentioned the big, love-shaped elephant in the room. We were both trying to spare the other's feelings.

It was for the best. We were going to enact the plan and I'd soon be back in my old body, and neither of us was into guys. I just had to face facts. This would never last.

*

Today was the day. We were ready to return to civilization, if they'd have us. It shouldn't have taken us so long to get ready, but we couldn't keep our hands off each other long enough to load the car.

Getting into the Zone without identification had only been possible using my ability. Getting out was going to be much more difficult.

In the first year after the Exclusion directive was issued, a pregnant woman left the Blackfeet EZ in Wyoming. What she gave birth to weeks later burned down most of North Pittsburgh and killed eleven heroes before it was destroyed.

A few years later, a dangerous street drug was traced to one of the Canadian Zones. Investigators found an entire factory making it even as it slowly poisoned its workers.

For those and other reasons, leaving this place without going through an official checkpoint was a felony. Bryan was already in the system as having crossed in, so it would mean prison time for him not to check out.

We stopped the Datsun a few miles from the checkpoint and waited until we spotted a deer in the distance.

"You're sure?" he asked for maybe the twentieth time.

I was tired of answering that question, so I just did it.

Being a deer felt like being in a video game made by monks. I could jump like Super Mario and the landscape was a monochrome impressionist video loaded with meaning. Threats stood out like flags, and never failed to trigger a reactive jolt of sweet adrenaline from my endocrine system.

And smell? It was in lurid color. Everyone was filthy, especially humans, and they left their stink on everything they touched.

I went looking for humans around the checkpoint, praying that there weren't hunters nearby. I tasted the air and sniffed the ground and when I was satisfied, I returned to my body.

"I've got a path," I said.

He dropped me off a few miles from there and I started hiking.

This was the most dangerous part of the plan. He had to exit officially while I snuck through. I faced military patrols, dogs, drones, who knows what, and he was up against a government who knew he went in weeks ago with someone who avoided being identified.

I wore head to toe camouflage, courtesy of the local sporting goods store, and I was fit from our scavenging expeditions. In case everything went wrong, I wore a cycling helmet.

I kept to the low areas and tried to remember my brief time as a creature of the forest.

Snapshot moment: Me in GI pajamas, trotting through the wilderness and evading Federal soldiers.

I would be amazed if I made it.

While moving through a little overgrown creek area, I got the idea that there was somebody up the hill to my right. Ordinarily I'd be a civilized person and question it, but something about being in the wilderness and playing cat and mouse with armed men made instincts feel like facts.

Or maybe my brief time as a deer had lingering effects.

I bolted left, keeping low, and hurried along a low line of brush. If I could skirt the open area ahead of me, I could get over a low hill and with it between me and my pursuer, I could run flat out.

I had gotten over the hill and started to run when I thought, 'dog'. Pausing, I listened.

From ahead, I heard the sound of something moving fast toward me.

I turned and ran as fast as I could.

It was no use. The dog, and I was sure it was a dog now, was getting closer.

I hurdled a stream and nearly rolled an ankle landing. There was a root I didn't see in the darkness.

Wait. I was going to hurt Jessica's body if I kept on like this. If I got too hurt to move, Jessica's body was going to wind up in Federal lockdown.

I stopped and sat with my back to a big tree and waited.

It didn't take long. The dog came hurtling out of the underbrush right where I figured he would. He assumed a terrifying fighting position and barked as loud as gunshots.

I Possessed the dog.

Holy shit, this little guy was having a big time! I almost felt bad for spoiling his fun. I let out a playful yip and ran off at an angle. Periodically I'd bark, because the dog knew Master would need help following him.

I had a limited range, so I ran a few hundred feet in a tangential path and Switched back.

I scrambled to my feet and ran, but soon the dog was closing in again. I did the same thing, but this time jumped the dog onto a stream first.

I heard yelping behind me as I jumped up to run again. Poor doggy, I knew how cold that water was.

It gave me an idea, though. There was a larger stream nearby, the kind you couldn't just jump over.

The next time Ball-Biter Thunderhead approached... that's what the dog thought of himself as. He was Ball-Biter Thunderhead and his Master's name was Mongo. He knew this because every time Master wanted him to do something, he'd say his name first: "Mongo, roll over," or "Mongo, fetch," or "Mongo, get the peanut butter."

It was helpful of Master to do that for Ball-Biter, but not needed. Ball-Biter could tell when Master was talking by small changes in the smell of his breath. But Master had his ways and there was only so much Ball-Biter could do with him.

I was getting a lot of information from this dog, way more than I had with anyone else. I knew what his handler's face looked like. Something different about the species, maybe? There was no time to wonder about it.

Ii jumped him once more before I got to the big stream. This time I did it on the run, but thanks to the bike helmet I didn't hurt my head when my body fell unconscious. I'd have bruises and scratches, but Variants healed quickly. The next time he showed up, he didn't just go barreling in; He was starting to get the idea that something fishy was going on.

I jumped him anyway. I couldn't see or hear him, but he was there, I knew it. It was as if in the dark of night there was a clarity that enabled me to feel his presence.

I ran him into the water, feeling like a jerk, and swam to the other side just as the water soaked through my fur. I shook off thoroughly before sitting down to see what howling at the Moon is all about.

It was pretty cool, I won't lie. Not as cool as shaking off, though. Every nerve attached to a hair is lit up when you do that. It feels like that half-second body high you get after a good sneeze, only longer.

Now B-B's handler would have to go get him. I doubted he would swim across that stream again any time soon.

I ran myself breathless and continued, plagued by cramps and low branches, until finally I made it to the road.

I wanted to cry with relief.

I pulled a reflector out of my satchel, one I'd pried off the blacktop in town, and positioned it next to the road on top of a rock. After a quick check of my compass to get my bearings, I started hiking. I made sure to check frequently over my shoulder for headlights, which added to the uneasiness that gnawed at my belly.

I ate a power bar, figuring that as long as my belly was gnawing, it could get some fucking work done.

Several times I saw headlights and had to hide. Before I did, I always dropped my second highway reflector.

The fourth time, I was crouching behind a tree when the car went by my reflector and slowed down.

My heart leaped. But this could have been the Fuzz, noticing the reflector. They weren't used on this road, so it was obvious they didn't belong, but Bryan explained they were so common they were likely to be ignored anyway. Better than my idea of a marker, which was to use a pile of beer cans. And drink the beer first.

God, I could go for a beer right now.

The car stopped and I strained my eyes to see it better. It reversed quickly and stopped again where its headlights fell on the reflector.

Its lights flashed. The signal! I broke cover and ran for it. Bryan opened the door as I approached and started rolling as soon as I was in.

I couldn't help it. I hugged the shit out of him. And kissed his cheek a few times.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Did you know that dogs can smell when you're talking?"

"That doesn't sound like a 'yes'."

He'd had an easy time of it. He'd told the authorities that the woman he'd been with was a hitchhiker and he hadn't noticed anything unusual at the crossing. They seemed only mildly interested in what happened that day when I'd Possessed the guard. Bryan figured they weren't aware that I'd used a super power. The guard either hadn't realized it, or kept it quiet out of embarrassment.

When asked why he picked me up, he said he didn't know. This part was brilliant of him, though. He acted bothered by that admission, like he'd only just realized it himself, and acted all confused and dreamy when they questioned him about what happened after they entered the Exclusion Zone. They ended up with the impression that he was just a dupe of some Variant fugitive who did us all a favor by going into the EZ and staying there.

We'd survived the EZ. Sure, it was one of the quietest in the nation and our tip had given us an ideal location, but still. We'd nearly been eaten by a plant monster.

Now we were headed for Atlanta with the dumbest plan ever, and we were going to try to bring down a sitting US Senator and steal a body from his well-secured home.

I snuggled up to Bryan as he drove. "We'll probably never get to do this again," I said.

He patted my hand. "Don't say that. We can always be gay guys."

"It might not work. Pheromones could be different. Being near you as a man might make me want to throw up."

"So no different than before," He chuckled. We were fully on the same wavelength after all this time together. He knew where I was coming from, and I knew the same of him. I could no more accidentally offend him than offend myself.

"Besides," I went on. "Anal didn't work, remember?" We'd tried it last night, but it hurt like hell and I'd made him stop before he even got started. Sure, I had a Variant healing factor, but I didn't want to see if it could repair an abused rectum.

"You always joke when things get serious," he said.

"So do you."

"I know. We're too alike." He put his arm around me and squeezed my shoulders. "Let's just say this. Our time together was incredible, and we have no regrets. Yes? Yes. And we're going to still be the best of friends, yes? Yes. And if anything else develops, well... That'd be great. But we're just going to have to see what happens."

"We'd make a bad couple. We're both slobs." I shifted uneasily. "Okay, I was understating. We'd make a terrible couple. Remember the Aspen Rule."

"'Thou Shalt Not Spend More Than Seven Days In a Row Together'," quoted Bryan, chuckling. "That was a hell of a fistfight."

"You mean it was a hell of an ass-whooping."

"Not this again. I literally knocked you out!"

I laid my head on his shoulder and rubbed his chest. "But when I came to, all that I had was a broken collarbone. Ha!"

He huffed a little. "We could work out how to get along. What about the Dubai Airshow?"

"We were blind drunk the whole time, and we got arrested!"

"Yeah, but we were getting along, and we were both naked."

"Streaking in a Middle Eastern country isn't really the same thing as what we've been doing."

"Well, I think we could. We could at least try, right?"

"I just don't see it. I'm sorry. If it was possible, it would have happened at some point during our lives. Dude, we went to camp together two years in a row and never touched each other's penises. That's when such things are supposed to happen. That's what camp is for!"

He gave me a little side-eye, but thanks to the vibe I knew it was because I'd joked again and not because I didn't want him.

*

Pig-Pickin'

Bryan

The day we'd been waiting for had arrived: the Annual Georgia Republicans Hog Roast. It was not, alas, the roasting of Republican hogs but the roasting of hogs for the benefit of Georgia Republicans. It was the type of activity than in a more casual setting would have been called a 'Pig-Pickin',' and that level of extreme Southern-ness was calculated to satisfy their voting base. Jessica's father, as the most prominent among them, would be there.

I tried not to be glum. This was it. Jessica was going to Possess her father and that would be that. We'd reunite him with his body and this whole weird, sexy, confusing episode would be behind us.

And I would begin the process of forgetting about Jessica. Would he ever be Chase to me again, or would he be Jessica-With-a-Penis?

We paid the cover and shuffled into the venue with the crowd. The emcee was already announcing the imminent arrival of the august Senator. This was too fast! I squeezed Jessica's hand, and she squeezed back, apparently thinking the same thing.

I grabbed her and wrapped her in my arms and held her tight against my body. "You were an incredible woman," I said.

"Thanks for everything," she replied with a sad smile and an amused lilt in her voice. She bit my earlobe and growled. The last time she'd done that I'd been fucking her against a wall, and I was sure she wanted me to be thinking of that.

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears when she pulled back. She squeezed my hands and looked up to the stage.

Amid a hero's fanfare, Senator McKenna walked onto the stage. His clothes and the stage both conspired to emphasize his already impressive stature so that he looked to be a giant.

He raised his arms skyward and cheers vaulted with him, and when he lowered them, the noise died down.

Jessica said, "Here I go. Love you, Buddy."

I was so shocked I hesitated. "I lo-" was all I managed before she collapsed.

It was over. I swallowed the sob that rose in my throat.

I hoisted her limp form to a more comfortable position and waved off a concerned onlooker. There were enough people getting drunk tonight that her condition wasn't cause for alarm.

I glanced up at the stage and frowned. The Senator should be acting differently. By now he should be destroying his own reputation by saying things like, "I can't get hard if she's got a heartbeat," or, "Let's put all the Canadians in camps." Instead he was spouting the usual bullshit about this being the only country in the world with freedom.

The woman in my arms suddenly jerked and opened her eyes, clearly disoriented. She wanted to stand so I helped get her feet under her.

Her face was haunted as she announced, "It doesn't work on him." My heart beat double-time for a dizzying moment. Had they found a way to block her Ability? I would have, had I been in their position. But what did that mean about Jessica? I didn't dare think...

She went limp again, then just as suddenly came to. Her chest was heaving, her eyes wild. Horrified, she said, "It doesn't work on her, either."

I followed her gaze to the spectacle before us.

Onstage, Chase McKenna, loyal Senator's son, shook his father's hand. Together, they proudly announced the younger McKenna's upcoming run for the state Senate.

Jessica stared at them for so long that I began to worry. After a few attempts to get her attention, she abruptly turned, grabbed my arm, and left, looking over her shoulder the whole time at Chase McKenna on the jumbo screen, larger than life.