The next two weeks dragged…really dragged. I spent most of the time on my own as my desire and ability to interact with my guards was limited. Did I say guards? It felt more and more like a prison, comfortable, but still confining. I wasn’t even interested in trying to engage with the female police members; I must be losing my touch! Actually, it was probably more that I was fed up trying to explain my position to each individual who arrived on site. There was somewhere in the order of 12-15 police force members rotating through the job, each of whom seemed to be curious as to whether I was trans or just well disguised. They didn’t seem to be the most nuanced lot and again, like the initial security team that I’d met on arrival, couldn’t seem to take my indefinite answers at face value.

I made a point of getting up, dressed, and fully made up each day before appearing for breakfast. This was increasingly more than just practice; I was getting more and more comfortable in the role of Jesse as the two weeks passed to the point of starting to feel irritation when some of the more recalcitrant cops called me “Jos”. I fairly quickly declared myself as “available” for State Cyber Security work as my own work quickly wound down. I was surprised how quickly that happened.

I secured a P228 from the Military and some range time on a military range, but masquerading as a police force member with some of my protection detail. I was hoping that nobody would recognise me, although there was little chance of that. Apparently I needed the specific gun in order to get a licence under the tight Portugal system. I would need to return my S&W Victory, still hidden from my security detail, to my shooting range for storage when Jacinta returned.

Then came the various ID’s: Passport, Driving Licence, Bank Cards, European Health Insurance Card, Gender Identity Card. I was now Jesse legally, but still Jos: I would have to check with the state solicitor whether I would be giving evidence as Jos or Jesse. Adopting another identity brings unexpected problems, let alone changing gender. All my old documents were taken by the police who would store them pending my reversion to my old identity; they explained that this was necessary as their discovery in my possession would compromise my position. It also meant that I could not, for instance, travel to the US as I could be accused of misrepresenting my gender if I used Jesse’s passport. I would have to settle for staying in Europe for the moment.

Jacinta called and texted from time to time; she seemed to be enjoying Lisbon! She had secured accommodation by the end of the first week and my firearms permit shortly after. She seemed to be having fun; she also had scouted some venues for clubbing and some good venues for eating in the general vicinity of my new accommodation. Whereas I was now anxious to get going, I was also conscious that I was leaving my parents with them having no information of my whereabouts. And they knew nothing about Jesse. Thankfully facetiming meant nothing to them; we’d get by on voice calls. And Janet; whereas we were never an item, we had been good friends and partners of a sort since college. Now it seemed that we were to have our longest break yet.

Eventually Jacinta arrived back, landed in my room unannounced carrying a large Samsonite case:

“OK girl; get packing.”

“Now that’s some way to greet your devoted admirer, waiting patiently here for you as you swanned around Lisbon enjoying the sun, wine and women.”

She closed the door, put down the case, and came over to where I was still sitting at my work-desk. I went to get up but she put a hand on my shoulder, pushed me back into the seat, straddled me and sat down on my knees.

“I’ll have you know that I was very busy, and I only sampled the local wine and women on a purely professional level, to ensure your comfort and safety!”

She caught my head and kissed me, a nice long, tongue-probing kiss. We broke off:

“And were the local women tasty?”

“Very; you’ll find out yourself. Now, time to get to work.”

“I’ll need more than one case; you can’t expect to send a girl away indefinitely with just the single case!”

“Relax babe; I’ve another in the car. I’ll get it now.”

“When are we off?”

“Tomorrow; 13:10 flight.”

“Wow; that’s fast. I’ve stuff in Janet’s, and I need to get rid of my S&W.”

“You haven’t told Janet that you’re disappearing as Jesse?”

Her voice was a little sharp, disapproving. I shook my head.

“Good; what’s there will have to stay, otherwise she might figure it out. Gimme the pistol.”

I got the S&W Victory and unloaded the magazines. That done, I stripped down the two magazines and replaced the restrictors. Jacinta was looking at me curiously.

“Making them civvy legal; can’t have magazines holding more than five rounds.”

“I never knew that.”

“I suppose you don’t need to; the firearms licensing officers know.”

She took the pistol, magazines, and box of rounds, hid them in her bag, and disappeared. She was back in a few minutes with the second case.

“OK; I’m off now: Need to repack. And get rid of your peashooter.”

I handed her a typed address on an A4 sheet.

“Thanks; here’s the range address.”

She reached out to take the piece of paper and suddenly grabbed my wrist, twisted my arm and knocked me to the floor. She knelt down behind me, still holding my arm behind my back, reached her other arm over my shoulder and down the front of my blouse and bra, then whispered in my ear.

“You need to learn to be more careful. There’s lots of bad girls out there waiting to take advantage of sweet innocent little things like you!”

I leaned back and gave a soft stage moan, enjoying her nuzzling my ear and neck:

“Sounds like heaven!”

“See you here for breakfast at nine.”

She stood up, released my arm and helped me to my feet. A quick hug and kiss, and she was gone. I did realise one thing; I had let girls “overpower” and pin me down before. I wasn’t letting Jacinta; she was probably almost as strong as me, but also had a range of techniques to use. It probably reflected the difference in the unarmed combat I’d learned in the military, and her police training. Military unarmed combat is about how to kill or seriously injure; police learn how to restrain and pin. I was finding her ability, and willingness, to dominate to be almost erotic… actually, delete almost!

Concentrate! Concentrate! Time to pack.

I decided to pack all my laptops, power leads and a powerstrip. The local airport had recently eliminated the requirement to unpack electronics and liquids, but I didn’t know if that expended to three laptops, an iPad, charging pack and ‘phone. Anyway, it would weigh far too much. I decided to leave my toiletries until after my morning shower. I would travel in my green cotton dress and sandals; it should be warm when we landed in Lisbon. I folded almost all the rest of my clothes, packing what I could with the electronics and leaving the rest in a neat pile on a chair ready to pack on top of my toiletries. Then I realised that I did not have a weighing scales; I texted Jacinta.

Need weighing scales for Luggage. What about Jesse phone?

I had just realised that Jesse would need a separate mobile phone. The answer came back:

Will bring scales. Have to buy Jesse phone in Lisbon.

I noticed that she didn’t say who’ll pay for it! I had hoped the State might pick up the bill.

Packing organised if not exactly finished, I headed downstairs to try to be sociable before dinner. My current protection squad consisted of a DS, a female and a male constable. The DS and the policewoman, Annette, were in the sitting room when I entered.

“I hear you’re off tomorrow?”

“Yes; thanks for looking after me while I was here.”

“No problem; it was all good overtime!”

“So what happens when there’s no one here to mind?”

“Not much; the housekeepers are the only permanent staff. We use it for visiting police force members when we’re not baby-sitting a witness, but they don’t need the same security.”

“Well, glad I could make some money for you.”

“Just think of us when you’re sunning yourself in Lisbon!”

The housekeeper announced that dinner was ready so we repaired to the dining room.

“So what happens when it’s safe for you to come out of the programme?”

Annette didn’t elaborate on her question. I guessed what she meant, but decided to play dumb.

“I don’t know; I thought that you’d be telling me?”

“No, I don’t mean operationally. About this… your dress…disguise…being a woman.”

“Oh; do you mean to ask if I’m trans?”

“I guess so.”

“I don’t know; what do you think?”

“How could I know? It’s just… you do it…do it so well.”

“I suppose I should say thanks. But if I did say ‘thanks’, you’d know from my voice that I wasn’t a cis woman.”

That didn’t make sense… I was just having a bit of fun. Annette was getting red; the DS was enjoying the show.

“OK, but I suppose you can work on the voice?”

“Probably; I need to work on something between soft and husky. Voice excepted, what would you prefer me to be; trans or just disguised?”

As Annette pondered her answer, the DS chimed in:

“She’d need to give you a trial run in both modes to decide!”

Sounded good to me:

“That sounds like a plan.”

“Oh; very smart!”

Annette had tired of the sparring. The conversation moved on and the rest of the evening passed relatively smoothly. I didn’t have any work to do and didn’t fancy staring at the walls so, unusually, I stayed with them chatting for an hour or so before taking my leave at 8pm.

“See you guys in the morning; Jacinta will be here for breakfast at nine.”

“G’dnite.”

I headed upstairs, hung up my skirt and blouse, and took off my makeup. I had just dressed in a black satin nightie when there was a soft knock on the door. I opened it to find Annette leaning casually against the wall outside the door.

“You’ve got time for that trial run?”

I opened the door fully, stood back, and she stepped into my room.

“I’ll check my calendar, but what about your DS?”

“He’s happily married, and I don’t think he’s your type.”

“In that case, I think my calendar’s free.”

“I’m due to take over the cameras at ten; until then I can do close protection.”

I caught the buckle on the belt of her jeans and pulled her over to me.

“I think that just about gives us enough time for that trial run…”

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

I was up early and had showered, dressed, packed and was fully made up by the time Jacinta arrived at 08:40. I heard her chatting to the DS and Annette for a few minutes then she came bounding up the stairs, carrying a portable luggage scale. It was a matter of only a few minutes to transfer some stuff from the heavier case so that both came in around 19.5kgs. I picked up one to carry downstairs; Jacinta picked up the other one.

“Jacinta; thanks, but I don’t expect you to carry my case.”

She put down the case, came over to me, put her hand around my waist from behind as I dropped my case, caught my hair with her other hand and pulled my head back. She seemed to like to do that.

“Just thought you might be tired after your trial runs last night!”

I reached my hands back, caught her tail, and pulled her closer.

“Just getting back into practice for tonight.”

“Oh, I’ll be much more demanding!”

She let go my hair, gave me a slap on the ass, and we carried the cases downstairs. The male PC and the DS joined Jacinta and me for breakfast; Annette’s turn to be on the cameras. As well as keeping to a schedule for this role, I had noticed that the constables alternated for every second meal. Made sense, and I wasn’t entirely displeased not to be sitting with both Annette and Jacinta at the same time. Breakfast over, I did stick my head into the security room to say goodbye.

We were dropped to the airport by the DS; Jacinta would pick up her car at the house on her return. I was surprised when the car bypassed the normal terminal entrance and drove into a small, secluded parking space. We got out, collected our cases from the boot and stepped into what I realised was a private departures and arrivals area for VIPs. We were given a small room with some lounger chairs, coffee tables and a small conference table with chairs. There was a flask of coffee, teabags and water, a drinks tray and some snacks. So this was a small taste of how the other half live; to mangle mathematics, a very small half! Unfortunately the whiskey was of indifferent quality, blends rather than single malts, so we both settled for G&T’s, but not before we’d packed our pistols into our hold luggage and checked our cases through the private luggage system. For the next few hours we would have to put our trust in Airport Security as we couldn’t access them again until we retrieved our luggage in Lisbon. It was my first time unarmed in around a month; not a nice feeling. We settled down to wait; a car would bring us directly to the steps of the aircraft about fifteen minutes before the flight.

“Did you set all that up with Annette?”

She gave a slightly mischievous grin.

“Now why would I do that?”

“OK; put it another way. When and why did she tell you?”

“Are you sure you weren’t in a police force? Military Investigations?”

“No; why?

“You seem to have a knack for questioning.”

“Nice deflection; now back to my question.”

Jacinta was still grinning; enjoying herself immensely.

“Well, she was asking me about you yesterday, so I told her that she had all night to find out for herself. I guess she did!”

“And the DS? Were you not afraid he’d report her?”

“No; he was there when I challenged her. He’s sound. Anyway, you can’t say I didn’t warn you!”

“Warned me?”

“About all those bad girls waiting to take advantage of you!”

“You little minx!”

“More leopard than minx; you’ll find out!”

I had no doubt about that.

The car arrived and we had to pass through the private security scanners before going airside and being driven to the ‘plane. Most of the passengers were already embarked and the driver stopped behind the tail of the aircraft so that we would not raise too much attention with our unorthodox arrival. We boarded and settled into our seats. Jacinta was in the aisle seat and I was stuck in the middle; I hate the middle seat. There was a middle aged man in the window seat who was doing his best to appear nonchalant as he swivelled his eyes around to check us out. I decided to ignore him for the time being at least.

He was still at it about an hour into our three hour flight; I whispered into Jacinta’s ear:

“My next door neighbour’s eyes are out on stalks.”

She nodded imperceptibly, then reached her hand over to caress my knee. Taking my cue from her, I reciprocated. Old swivel eyes beside me could hardly drag his eyes away. She glided her hand up my thigh under my dress and we kept up this play for a few minutes before both getting a fit of the giggles, which put paid to our activities.

We eventually landed in Humberto Delgado airport and deplaned via an airbridge. In order to avoid being too obvious, we were not met at the airbridge but proceeded to the passport control area. There was a massive queue of Brits; BREXIT had ended their facility to travel to and from EU countries without border controls. We headed for a door at the side of the hall where an airport employee and a lady in a business suit were waiting. We were quickly ushered through the door and Jacinta and the suit lady exchanged ceremonial air-kiss greetings when the door was closed. She was introduced to me as Isabel, an Intendente in the PSP, the Civil Police. This was the first time I’d heard this term: It was a rank just below Superintendente, logically enough. We were ushered into a side room and she took our passports, disappeared for a few minutes, then returned and gave them back, immigration formalities completed. She accompanied us as we collected our cases from the carousel, brought them back to the room and retrieved our pistols. She had indifferent English so our conversation was necessarily limited; in fairness, neither of us spoke a word of Portuguese so we could hardly complain. I was impressed by her demeanour. Despite knowing my situation, and my voice was still a giveaway even had she not, she simply dealt with me as Jesse. We spoke briefly; she confirmed that Jacinta had the numbers to call in an emergency, the location of our accommodation, and offered us a lift there. She also provided me with a resident’s card and a licence for my pistol. As a visiting member of a “friendly “ police force, Jacinta didn’t need one of these.

We were dropped off at an oldish looking apartment block in the Principe Real locality. The lift, evidently a retrofit, was too small to take more than one person and one case at a time so Jacinta went first with one of my cases, sent the lift back down and I brought the remaining case along with her small case to the top floor. One of the two doors on the landing was open so, assuming this to be my place, I went in to find Jacinta already running the tap in the kitchen to clear out any stagnant water. Relieved that I hadn’t inadvertently invaded the premises of an unsuspecting neighbour, I closed the door and took a look around at my new abode. It was much more modern than the exterior façade suggested, had reverse cycle air conditioning, essential in Lisbon, a bathroom, bedroom, living room and another room which might pass for an elf’s bedroom, more likely a storeroom. Overall the place was too small to swing a cat, even if swinging cats to test room sizes wasn’t already outlawed by the EU Directive on Cats.

“Well, how’d I do?”

Having long since learned the benefits of economy, most of all with the truth, I responded judiciously.

“Great; I love it!”

“Lisbon is expensive and we wanted to put you in town among the younger set so you’d blend in. We wanted a top floor, no easy access from the roof or adjoining balconies, and here we are.”

“What’s the neighbourhood like? I’ll have to do the grand tour soon to see what’s around.”

“All in good time. It’s an old part of the city, significant population of younger people, digital nomads like you, gays, cool.”

“Looks like I’ll fit right in!”

“I’ll show you around.”

It took all of five paces or so to inspect the apartment. Two features stood out: The front door had been replaced with a high tech security door which could probably withstand a charging bull elephant, and I had a screen view of the landing outside.

“That’s probably in breach of Data Protection legislation as the camera is hidden in your external light, so don’t let your neighbours see the screen.”

“OK.”

We moved about two paces.

“The bedroom”.

“I’d never have guessed!”

“Smart arse!”

Out of habit I pressed on the mattress on the heavy, wooden frame bed: It felt nice and firm. I didn’t have time to straighten up before I was propelled onto the bed on my face and Jacinta was sitting on top of me. She moved around a bit as she hitched up her skirt to get her legs fully down on each side.

“Now, let’s see if I can remember what I was intending to do to you once we got here.”

She remembered.

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

“OK, let’s get dressed. Time for dinner.”

It was rather late by my standards, I was more an early bird diner. But when in Rome… or rather in Lisbon… follow the local customs, one of which is to dine very late. I rolled off the bed and headed for the shower. Jacinta called in after me.

“I’ll take your LBD out and hang it up for you”.

I gathered we were going somewhere nice: Not knowing the area I was content to just drift along. By the time I’d finished my shower and makeup, she had caught up with me, being much more practiced in the art of makeup. She was in a silver, seiquined, shift dress; suggesting that our night out was not going to end with dinner.

“We’ve a bit to walk, not your highest heels.”

I settled for dressy, black, kitten heeled sandals. Then I ran into a problem; with just a small dress purse, I couldn’t carry my P228. Neither could Jacinta carry her pistol. This wasn’t such a big deal as we had hardly been followed to Lisbon already, but was something that I’d have to consider in the future. For tonight, we left the two pistols in the safe and headed off on foot. This was an old part of town and I had to be very careful not to fall off my heels on the cobbled lane just outside our apartment building. It made progress very slow so she linked me. The night was warm, comfortably warm in early summer, as opposed to the real heat that I would experience in the coming months.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re booked into a restaurant in Barrio Alto, then on to Purex Club.”

“You don’t waste time!”

“Remember, unlike you, I’ve only two weeks left here. You’ve probably got a year at least until the trial of the shooter, and probably a lot longer after that.”

We dined in a very nice Indian restaurant and headed on to the club. As I suspected, it was a gay venue which seemed to be quite cosy and upmarket. At 10:30pm, we were relatively early and perched at a small table near the bar sampling the cocktails for which the venue is famous and watching the couples, almost all same sex, as they filtered in. As the place filled up, “perches” disappeared and eventually two girls, standing right beside us, asked if they could leave their drinks on our table. We started chatting, they were locals, sharing an apartment in the locality, college friends now working in the city. I thought of Janet; I guessed their circumstance was probably similar to ours. Eventually, cocktails finished, Jacinta suggested we make our way to the now-busy dance floor and we offered them our seats.

They were still there when we returned some ten or fifteen minutes later an offered to relinquish the seats to us. We declined, and we got to chatting. Like most younger college-educated denizens of Lisbon, they had good English; I would have to learn some Portuguese soon. We shared names, they were Lorena and Adelaida. Inevitably, once we got to talking, and once they felt that it would not be rude to mention it; the expected question:

“I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind me asking… your voice… are you Trans?”

This was a dilemma for a number of reasons. In the first place, I wasn’t sure. Secondly, I could hardly tell them that I was on the run from some bad guys and had just drifted into being Jesse. I tried to be as indefinite as I could:

“I guess so.”

Fortunately they didn’t seem to mind and managed to discover that I was a semi-permanent resident, and Jacinta was out for a short break and staying with me, before joining us on the dance floor. It seemed almost natural for Jacinta and I to accept their invitation back to their shared apartment and we ended up paired off with them, as opposed to each other, as we made our way, carefully, back to their place. They opened a bottle of wine and we rather flopped down in their living area on a rug and the one, two-seater couch. I’m not sure how they made their selection between us but in reasonable short order Jacinta and Lorena were paired off while Adelaida was engaging me in a manner which made it clear, should I have been in any doubt, where this was going. I had one obvious concern which I voiced when she surfaced for air following a nice, long, introductory kiss.

“Adeleida, you know I’m trans, OK?”

“Mmmmm…”

She was only half paying attention as she lifted my shoulder to get access to the zipper on the back of my dress.

“It’s just that I haven’t had any work done… I’m still fully male under the dress…”

She had the zipper down by now and was working the dress off my shoulder, showing my lacy bodysuit.

“I suppose we’ll just have to work with what we have for now.”

Jacinta and Lorena had already departed for the bedroom; Adelaida and I would have to make do with the rug on the floor!

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

Jacinta and I left at first light, passing on the offer of a coffee but exchanging ‘phone numbers with our two new friends, and walked back to our apartment. It wasn’t a long walk, but every early morning delivery driver and commuter seemed to take a second look at the two of us, obviously heading home after a good night. Unlike when Janet and I had walked to the police station on Independence Street what seemed like an age ago, nobody commented even though we were walking arm in arm. Lisbon seemed more accepting and maybe a little more civilised in that respect than home.

There was a small coffee shop at the corner of the street where our apartment was located, just opening, so we stopped in for a superb coffee and an indifferent croissant. I was curious.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask; I mightn’t answer.”

“Both you and Adelaida are gay, right?”

“Stop! Hold the press! Jacinta Beirne is a Lesbian!”

“No; please, I’m being serious here.”

“OK… go ahead.”

“So, how come you’re both interested in shagging me? Am I missing something? Are you both Bi?”

“You’re very black and white; aren’t you?”

“Huh?”

“Sexuality is at least 50 shades of grey. I wouldn’t describe myself as Bi… the question is really about your gender.”

“I’ve no interest in men; only girls. Remember our discussion back at home?”

“The question was about gender; not sexuality. You’re not exactly a standard male, are you?”

I didn’t know whether to be hurt, offended, or simply curious. I didn’t answer, and Jacinta continued on.

“You’re not just in disguise, are you? You are taking to being female as if it’s right for you, almost as if it’s what you are.”

She paused to let this sink in.

“You don’t have to answer me now. Assuming reincarnation exists, would you prefer to come back as a girl?”