|
B.J Sandburg Part Three.
Jim found himself watching Blair constantly, even if just from the corner of his eye. He had been watching women, one way or another, his whole life. But it was fair to say he’d never before noticed every last detail about a woman before. Of course, he’d never seen a woman quite like this one before either. Just yesterday morning he’d leaned in the bathroom doorway while Blair shaved off his prodigious stubble. He’d complained about the foot odour coming from Blair’s size eight hiking boots, and he’d taken his turn doing the laundry, folding Sandburg’s y-fronts right along with his own. Now he was sitting in the driver’s seat of his truck, listening to Blair talk about which shop to buy his bra from, and desperately trying not to notice that Blair now had the tiniest dimple in each cheek when he smiled. "Could be interesting," Blair was saying, laughing and slapping Jim’s arm. "What?" Jim said absently, listening to that distinctive laugh. Cataloguing it. "Community changing rooms," Blair said. "Could be interesting?" At Jim’s blank look he shook his head. "You’re not listening to me," he complained. "Stop zoning on my incredible female charms and listen to me!" "I am listening," Jim returned. "And you’re not that incredible." "Yes I am," Blair said smugly. "Vanity is an ugly trait in a woman, Chief," Jim informed him. "Can’t help it," Blair said airily. "I just can’t go past a mirror at the moment." "Sheesh." Jim raised his eyes to the heavens for guidance. "Frankly I think you’ve taken this thing in your stride way too easily. The honourable thing to do would be as shocked and terrified as I am." "Terrified?" Blair repeated. "What?" "Next time you find one of those mirrors, look real close, Narcissus," Jim said directly. "Anyone who knows you is going to look at you and see Blair Sandburg. You’re gonna end up being dissected in some lab before you can say Government conspiracy." "Not gonna happen," Blair said placidly, smoothing back his brown curls. "Face it, Jim. Most of the world looks at a problem and sees a pragmatic answer. Even you wouldn’t believe it was me if you hadn’t been there the whole time." "Wrong," Jim said quietly. Blair turned that blue gaze on him, but Jim resolutely kept his eyes on the road. "I would still know you in a fifty thousand strong stadium. In the pitch black dark in the middle of a rainstorm, from a hundred meters." "Wow," Blair said, looking stunned. "Really?" "You haven’t changed that much," Jim shrugged, wishing he could escape the laser blue stare. It saw too much sometimes. "Not where it counts," Blair agreed. "But in every other way, Jim, I am different. Remember, I’m not a man trapped in a woman’s body here. I am a woman now, with all the hormones and stuff that go with it. That’s bound to change everything, even the way I think, certainly the way I see the world." "I’m not likely to forget," Jim retorted. Blair studied him for a moment longer, and then continued airily. "And as to how easily I’ve accepted this, it’s like I said this morning. I’ve had thirty years to prepare for it. My whole life." "Must have been some bedtime stories your mom told you." Blair huffed a laugh. "Yeah. I admit, most of my childhood I figured it was some fairy tale adults told kids. Like the Easter Bunny, or Santa Claus." Jim snorted. "Fairy tale," he snickered. Blair slapped him gently on the arm again, and Jim attempted a sober question. "So, what convinced you? Oh, yeah, you said Naomi changed?" "When I was twelve," Blair nodded. "I’m trying to picture Naomi as a man here, and I tell you, Chief, it’s seriously damaging my already fragile psyche." "Naomi embraced being a man," Blair said, making a huge sweeping gesture with his arms. "I mean, she got into it." "Yeah, but going from being a woman to a man is a whole different ball game than going from a man to a woman," Jim said as he pulled into a parking spot at the mall. Blair unbuckled his seat belt and turned inquiring eyes on him. "How so?" he said mildly. Jim frowned at the basilisk stare turned his way. "You know," he said vaguely. "Well, I know more than you at this point, obviously," Blair said smartly. "But I’m curious about your reasoning here. You don’t think it’s just as stressful and disorientating to go from female to male as it is the other way around?" "Possibly," Jim conceded, exasperated. "But you have to admit, women have all these weird female things going on. Men are a lot less complex." "Simpler, you mean," Blair said, smiling sweetly. He pushed open the truck door and slid down to the ground. Jim locked the truck and joined him by the elevator. "Don’t start getting all feminist on me," he warned. "I know you’re only doing it to annoy me." "Would I do that?" Blair asked, batting his eyes innocently. Jim blinked in surprise. Eye batting took on a whole new meaning when it was backed up by big guns like long sweeping lashes and those damned dimples. "Let’s just do this and get it over with," Jim growled, stabbing at the Up button. Blair followed him into the elevator, pushing the button with the ‘Ladies Undergarments' sign next to it. "Fine with me," he muttered. "We just go in, get the stuff, and get out," Jim continued, making a zipping motion with his hand. "Whatever," Blair huffed. "Not like I want to make this my life’s work." The doors opened to a scene right out of Dante’s Inferno. Right in front of them was row after row of fluffy, frilly, lacy garments. Holding the garments were dozens of women, each of whom turned to stare accusingly at Jim as he froze like a deer in headlights at the lift doors. "See, this isn’t so bad," Blair said, drifting into the cloud of frippery. "Hn," Jim managed, unlocking his legs and jumping out of the lift just as the doors were closing. "This is nice," Blair was saying, holding up a pink thing with a bow on the front. "Urg," Jim nodded, eyes darting around, checking for exit signs. "Or this one?" Blair ventured, holding up a yellow checked thing. "Blah," said Jim, finally spotting a promising looking gap in the lacy racks. One man was already furtively backing towards it, something Jim took as a hopeful sign. Blue eyes lit up and Blair hung the two hangers back up and fairly leapt across the floor. "Ooh, look at this one." "Yeah, that’s the one," Jim declared, not sparing it a glance. There was the definite possibility of an exit now, and he was going to go for it. "Buy that one, Chief." He made his move. "Coward," Jim heard behind him, but he wasn’t about to turn back now. It was pillar of salt time if he did, for sure. "Wow, is that yours?" Jim tried to tune out the female voice behind him, and almost succeeded until Blair’s new female voice chimed in. "Honey, if that was mine I would be cutting my throat." Jim froze in mid step, only inches from freedom. "You’re kidding?" the stranger said. "Take my word for it," Blair said humorously. "Nothing but trouble on two legs." Jim narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, but topped by a butt like that, who cares?" the stranger joked, and then, to Jim’s horror, two giggles reached his sensitive ears. Giggles. Not wanting to believe the evidence without vision to back it up, Jim swung on his heel, turning to face the duo. He was met by the sight of two pairs of unmistakably appraising eyes. One pair widened in surprise when he turned, then blinked rapidly and headed off. The other pair remained fixed on him unrepentedly. Jim strode across the floor. "Don’t you do that!" he hissed at Blair when he reached him. "What?" "You know what," Jim said self-consciously, checking to make sure no one was listening in. "This year’s gonna be hard enough without you checking me out." "Ha," Blair said rudely. "As my friend Megan would say, don’t get tickets on yourself, Jim." "What?" "Besides, you’re the one that’s been checking me out all day." Jim saw red. "Excuse me," he whispered frostily. "I was not checking you out. You try having your partner turn into a woman, see if you can resist staring now and then." "Yeah, well maybe we need some new rules then," Blair retorted. "You’re the one who’s so fond of rules, Jim." "Good idea," Jim said, crossing his arms and trying to stare Blair down. It was very hard when something that looked like a satin g-string kept catching his attention over the young man’s shoulder. Woman’s shoulder. Whatever. "Rule number one. Don’t ogle these every time I walk by." With that Blair thrust out his still unfettered breasts. Jim snatched a satin camisole off the rack and shoved it at Blair’s chest. "Put those things away," he hissed, feeling his face go red. "Gees, Chief, have a heart will ya?" "Glad I didn’t go with my first thought and flash them at you," Blair said wickedly, grabbing the camisole before it could slither off him onto the floor. "Hey, this is nice." He held it up. "How do you think this would look on me?" Suddenly Jim’s mercury hit red and exploded out of the top of his head. His oar missed the water completely, and his elevator stalled between floors. He reached his limit. "Here," he said, fumbling his keys out of his pocket. "You take the truck. I’ll walk back." He turned on his heel and made for the exit, hoping against hope it wouldn’t turn out to be the changing rooms. "Hey, Jim?" Blair called out twice more, but Jim couldn’t turn around. Within minutes he was outside, gasping for air like a drowning man. Which was pretty much how he felt. End Part Three.
|
