A TURN OF THE MOON
Day Five
by
Jessica Drew

The morning sun was beginning to peek over the edge of the lake, bringing with it a golden band that crept slowly into the dark sky. Dots of rain began to ripple the surface of the lake, making it shimmer in the light of the dawn.

Lauren rolled the glass-paned door open and we quickly ran out, still in our nightwear.

“Quick, get the washing!” I said, hurrying over.

“Ah!” Lauren yelped as a few drops of rain began to hit her face.

We quickly grabbed our clothes from the washing rack, piling them into the basket. I could feel the rain against my exposed arms and legs, as my mint-green pyjamas began to mottle with damp spots in the rain.

We made it back inside with the basket just in time. The shower began to pick up, the breeze making waves of rain across the lake.

“That was close!” Lauren said, shaking out her brown hair. “Come on, we can lay some of this out on the radiators for the moment.”

I flicked my hands through my own blonde hair, and wiped the rain from my arms. We’d managed to avoid getting soaked, but the washing hadn’t fared quite as well. I picked my beige sweatpants out of the basket, feeling their dampness. That was annoying, I was hoping I would wear them again today.

We began to lay the clothing across the radiators. Lauren shook down the dark blue leggings I had worn yesterday. “Are you feeling okay about today, honey?” she asked.

This was it. Today was the day we were finally going to get some news from Axis Labs. “I can’t believe they’re sending someone to the house,” I said, “And they mentioned ‘progress’... that must mean they are close to a cure, right? Maybe they even have a cure and they’ve got a treatment plan or something.” I found myself speaking quickly as I laid the clothing out.

“I know, it certainly sounds encouraging, doesn’t it!” Lauren beamed.

“Who knows, by next week you could have your husband back!” I stood with my hands on my hips, staring into space as my thoughts raced ahead of me.

Lauren paused, her gaze drifting to my hips for a moment. “Hey, my husband never went anywhere,” she said warmly. “Although, I admit I am missing having a man around. We’ll certainly have to do some celebrating once you’re back to normal,” Lauren winked, and it became obvious what she meant.

I felt my cheeks warm a little and I played with the hem of my pyjama top. “I’d like that,” I said quietly. We finished laying out the clothes. Our underwear had been mostly protected from the rain, so we left them in the basket.

We began to bustle about the kitchen, putting the coffee on, opening cupboards, and setting places for breakfast. We slipped effortlessly past each other, reaching across, asking each other to pass things. As I bent down to open a lower cupboard, I felt a light tap on my backside.

“Mind your tushy,” Lauren said as she squeezed past me.

I straightened again, watching her as she began to pour the coffee. I gave a small huff of amusement before turning my attention back to the breakfast.

“We’re nearly out of milk,” Lauren said as she filled a small jug.

I opened the bread box. “Oh, damn, we’re out of bread too,” I said drumming my nails against the kitchen counter.

“If you want, you can have some of my fruit and yoghurt? But we’ll need to pick up some more stuff soon.”

“Yeah. Okay,” I said. I picked up a couple of peaches from the fruit bowl.

* * * * *

We took our breakfast and coffee over to the lounge. I watched as Lauren set her mug down onto the coffee table, smoothed her nightdress and sat down onto the plush sofa. She slipped one leg over the other, leaning forward to hold her bowl of yoghurt.

I sat down opposite with my own bowl. As I began to eat I became aware of the sweetness of the chopped peaches mixing with the smoothness of the yoghurt.

“Nice?” Lauren asked.

“Mmm,” I nodded, sweeping blonde hair back over my shoulder so it was out of the way. “You know, I was thinking. Whatever this compound was... B-52...”

“Isn’t that a band?” Lauren smiled.

“Maybe!” I shrugged. “Anyway... I was thinking, how does one chemical just... do all this?” I gestured down at my female body. “It must have... I don’t know... activated my own genetics somehow.” I pointed at Lauren with my spoon. “Genetics is all about switches. Things turning on and off... so, if it’s already happened once, it might not be that difficult to kick it back the other way.”

“Wow, that all sounds good,” Lauren said covering her mouth as she chewed and swallowed.

“I mean, I’m not an expert by any means. I’m just a teccy,” I admitted, though it was hard to keep my mind from racing with the possibilities. Especially today. “Do you think it will be that Hartwell lady coming to see us?”

“Doctor Hartwell,” Lauren playfully corrected me, “that would certainly make the most sense.”

I finished eating and set my bowl down on the table. I leaned back on the sofa, rubbing a hand lightly over my tummy through the mint fabric of my pyjama top. It actually felt better having a lighter breakfast this morning. My usual toast had left me feeling a little stodgy over the past few days. As I looked down, I became aware of how I was now sat, with my left leg hooked over my right. I wasn’t even aware of having crossed my legs, but I seemed to have mirrored how Lauren was sat without even realising. I rested a hand self-consciously on my thigh, tugging at the hem of my shorts. It wasn’t like I’d never sat like this before. I just usually would prefer to sit with my legs apart, or to have my ankle hooked over my knee, with one leg out at a right angle. But now I could see the way my wider pelvis caused my legs to meet at the knees at an angle, making it far more natural and comfortable to sit like this than it ever had before. Either way, Lauren didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Okay, shall we go get ourselves ready?” Lauren said, rising from the sofa and holding out her hand. I smiled up at her and took it. Uncrossing my legs, I rose from my seat.

* * * * *

I returned from the shower, a towel wrapped around me and my hair pinned up. Lauren was still wearing her nightie and lay on the bed, propped on one elbow as she scrolled through her phone. I saw how the midnight-blue satin of her nightdress settled against her hip. It was quite flattering on her, I thought.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, losing myself in my thoughts as I listened to the tapping of the rain on the skylight above us. I realised that, as a man, I would always shower after Lauren. It made sense since she took longer to get ready. Plus, I could then afford to spend a little while longer in bed! Now, since becoming a woman, we seemed to be taking it in turns. We hadn’t discussed it. It had just sort of happened.
I ran a hand along the length of one of my arms. “Could I uh… could I use some more of your moisturiser?” I asked.

“Of course baby, help yourself,” Lauren smiled, glancing up from her phone.

I squirted some moisturiser cream into my hands and rubbed it into my face and neck, before continuing down my shoulders and arms. As I leant down to apply some to my legs, I noticed that the smooth feel of my skin had been replaced by a slight prickliness, mostly at my calves.

“Have you thought about what you might like to wear today?” Lauren asked from beside me.

I put the cap back on the moisturiser bottle. “Well, I’d kind of been counting on the return of the ‘beige queen’…” I said, light-heartedly.

Lauren laughed a little. “Yeah, sorry about that.” She sat herself up a little more. “Anyway, given we’re expecting a visitor today, it might be best that we didn’t look like we’d just rolled out of bed!”

“Hey! I didn’t look that bad in it… did I?” I laughed, though a tiny part of me seemed to take it to heart.

“No… but yesterday in that plum top and leggings you looked great. Why don’t you choose some more leggings and another nice top? You were comfortable in those, right?”

“Well, yes…” I had to admit I’d felt relaxed and comfortable in the clothes yesterday. For the most part. “Okay… but no more comments about my, uh…” I trailed off, waving a hand vaguely behind me.

Lauren grinned. “You cannot close that door on me!”

I sighed in resignation, “Uh... I really walked into that one didn’t I?”

“Actually, I’d say you backed up into it!” Lauren fell back on the bed, clearly delighted with herself. I rolled my eyes and got up, holding onto the knot of my towel as I made my way over to the dresser. I opened the top drawer, looking for a pair of panties I could wear.

“Hey,” Lauren spoke up from behind me, “I’ll give you a little tip.”

I half turned towards her, raising an eyebrow wondering where this was going.

“No, I’m being serious now!” she said, sensing my scepticism. “You should work backwards— select what outfit you’re going to wear first, and then that will help you choose what style, or colour underwear to wear beneath.”

“That’s… actually helpful,” I said. I pulled open one of the larger drawers, and began to leaf through some of Lauren’s things. “Okay... these,” I said, pulling out a plain black pair of leggings. That had been easy, at least. I took a breath and then opened the next drawer down. I spent a little longer this time, but finally settled on a light-weight long-sleeved top, similar to the plum top I’d worn, but in a soft cream colour.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Lauren said as she got up from the bed, her satin nightie settling at her thighs as she walked over. She reached to feel the cream-coloured top as I held it. “This is called a boat neck. It’s a little wider across the neckline, but I think it’ll really suit you,” she said looking down at me. She ran her fingers softly along my neck. “You’ve got lovely collar bones.”

“Uh... thanks,” I turned my face away sheepishly.

“Okay, don’t go anywhere,” Lauren said as she opened another drawer. This one was filled with her bras, all arranged by style and colour, the cups stacking into each other neatly to save on space. “Now... you’re wearing a cream top, so we want something lighter today, that’s not going to show through.”

“Not show through,” I repeated. “Yes, we definitely want that!” Yesterday had been the first time I’d worn a bra under my clothes. I’d certainly appreciated how it had supported me properly. For one thing, I’d gone the whole day without a hint of back ache. But I had been very aware of the tightness around my middle, and by the time we got ready for bed, I was relieved to be taking it off again. It seemed to have been taken for granted that I would be wearing one again today.

“Now, when I’ve worn that top I’ve usually worn... this one,” Lauren said and she pulled out an ivory-coloured bra, placing it on top of the clothing that I already held in my hands. Alongside the colour difference, this one was a bit more intricately detailed than the plain black bra I’d worn yesterday. The ivory cups were decorated with a floral motif that was particularly noticeable when it caught the light. It was just a bit... well, prettier - and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

My brain scarcely had a chance to catch up when Lauren selected a pair of ivory panties to go with it. They must have been part of a set, as the panties shared the same floral pattern across the front and back. She laid them on top of the pile of clothing that I now held. “Alright, I think this will be a great look for you today,” she said tapping her palm on top of the clothes.

She turned away to go over to the wardrobe, while I set my clothing down on top of the dresser. I glanced over at Lauren who was busy finding a fresh towel to take with her to the shower. I remembered yesterday when she’d helped me with my bra. She hadn’t seemed fazed at all. She hadn’t even teased me! Which, for Lauren, was quite something! Before I had a chance to think about it too much, I untied the knot in my towel, letting it fall to my feet. I froze as Lauren turned back to face me. Her eyes glanced quickly downwards but didn’t linger.

“I’m going to go take a shower while you get ready,” she said and reached up for the spaghetti straps of her blue nightie. She slipped them off her shoulders and wriggled her hips, letting the nightie fall to her feet. For a moment we stood facing each other, naked, our breasts bared, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Do you think you’ll be alright managing the bra on your own?” she asked.

“Ah... um... I-I’ll give it a go,” I stammered.

“If you get stuck, wait for me and I’ll give you a hand,” Lauren said. She took her satin robe from the hook on the back of the bedroom door. She slipped into it and folded the bath towel over her arm.

* * * * *

I waited until I could hear Lauren start the shower before getting dressed. I glanced over at the pile she had chosen for me. The ivory bra and matching panties sat neatly on top. Yesterday’s had been plain and black, practical enough to think about as little as possible. This set looked… different. Like it didn’t want to be forgotten about. Like it wanted to be noticed.

I paused, and for a moment found myself drawn to my reflection in the mirror. My skin looked shiny from the moisturiser. My breasts rose as I inhaled and my nipples dimpled a little in exposure to the cool air. I twisted carefully at my waist, first to one side, then the other, observing the movement. My eyes drifted further, to my narrow waist, my flat stomach, and further to the sparse blonde hair between my legs. I slid my hands down my sides, feeling the curve of my hips. I turned, glancing back to the mirror from over my shoulder and saw the swell of my backside. I looked for any indication that my body looked, moved or behaved any differently to Lauren’s body. Between a woman who had been female all her life and a man who had been female for five days, I couldn’t see any difference. It was like I had been born this way.

I brought my mind back to Axis, and the promise they’d made in their email of “progress”. As I picked up my ivory patterned panties, I wondered whether they meant their progress... or mine.

I slid into the panties, letting go of the waistband with a crisp snap. I ran my hands down my sides, then checked over my shoulder in the mirror, smoothing the fabric around the leg openings.

I picked up the matching bra and threaded my arms through the shoulder straps. I remembered what Lauren had shown me yesterday, and I leaned forwards to let my breasts fall into the cups. Fastening the bra proved a little more tricky. As a man, I had been far more used to taking them off! I struggled for a minute, reaching awkwardly behind my back to thread the hooks through the small eyelets. Finally, I felt tension in the bra and stood straight, feeling the lift in my chest. I cupped my breasts, rearranging myself until the bra fit evenly.

I observed the finished effect in the mirror. The matching ivory bra and panties didn’t just look different - they felt different too, a little more delicate, a little softer than I was used to. But the important thing was they were comfortable.

I bunched up the black leggings and drew them up my legs. I held the waistband high and moved my thighs up and down a few times to pull the fabric taut. I then pulled the cream-coloured top over my body, threading my arms through the long sleeves. As I pulled it down over my chest I saw what Lauren had meant by a “boat-neck”. It was wide across my shoulders, exposing my collar bones and a little of my shoulders. As I adjusted myself in the mirror, I wondered whether it was supposed to show my bra straps like that. At least the neck sat high, as I knew some of Lauren’s tops would have a plunging neckline that displayed her cleavage when she wore them. That style looked great on her, but I wasn’t sure I needed that for me. I smoothed out the hem of the top. It was a little longer in length than yesterday’s plum top and covered more of the upper curve of my hips and buttocks.

I stepped back to take in the complete outfit, smoothing out my top. The black leggings seemed to work well paired with the cream top. Lauren had been right about the underwear matching too. Other than the exposed shoulder straps, my ivory-coloured bra was mostly hidden from view. I reached back for my hairclip, pulling it free. I shook out my blonde hair, smoothing it down across my shoulders, wondering whether to wear my hair down, or to tie it back.

* * * * *

By the time I came back downstairs the rain had all but stopped. I opened the porch door to let some air in, but didn’t step out as my feet were still bare. As I went over to the lounge area, I could hear the pleasant sound of the last trickles of water dripping from the roof, down onto the wooden decking outside.

I softly hummed to myself as I picked up the bowls and mugs we’d left on the coffee table earlier. I walked to the kitchen and placed them in the sink, running the tap. We’d not used much else today, so I figured I’d just quickly wash them rather than use the dishwasher. Next, I went to check on the washing, placing a palm against the clothing on the hot radiators. Lauren’s lighter things seemed to be dry, so I carefully folded them and put them in the washing basket. My beige sweatshirt and sweatpants would need a little longer, so I flipped them over on the radiators.

I picked up the washing basket, balancing it on one hip, figuring I could put these things away at least. I turned towards the staircase and shrieked, my voice echoing up into the high ceilings. The washing basket clattered to the floor.

“Fuck, Lauren!” I said loudly, perching my hands on my hips. She was stood there right in front of me on the staircase. “How long have you been stood there?”

Lauren couldn’t help but giggle at my reaction. “I was just watching you flit about. It’s so cute!” she said, grinning down at me. Today she had dressed in a grey woollen dress with a thin black belt, along with black pantyhose. As she walked down the last few steps, her high heels clicked beneath her.

I sighed with exasperation. We crouched together and began to pick up the clothing from the floor, placing the items back in the basket.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Lauren said, though her smile made me think she wasn’t that sorry. “Of course, you know what you were doing, don’t you?”

“What?” I huffed, stuffing Lauren’s blouse back into the basket.

“You were walking,” she said.

“Walking?” I repeated. As far as I knew, I’d been doing that for a while now.

“Uh-huh,” Lauren said as we stood back up. “Walking, turning, sitting… like a…”

“Like a woman,” I finished her thought as she placed her hands lightly on my upper arms.

Lauren winced, then nodded. “When you stop thinking about it, it’s like your body just knows what to do.”

I turned away, rubbing at my forehead. “Well, I’m glad it knows, because I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“That’s not true, honey.” Lauren said. “You’ve done so brilliantly with all of this. I couldn’t be prouder.”

I folded my arms across my chest, unconvinced.

“Besides, you’re not going to have to deal with any of this for much longer, are you?” I turned back to face her as she continued. “Because we’re going to meet with Axis this afternoon… and get this all straightened out, right?” I hung my head, and felt Lauren lift my chin with a finger. “Right?”

“Right,” I said, quietly. I picked up the washing basket, walking past Lauren to the stairs. As I climbed the steps, my feet felt clumsy and awkward beneath me. It was like my body had suddenly forgotten what to do again.

* * * * *

For the next few hours, time seemed to slow down. The sun crawled its way to the other side of the house, leaving the living space a little darker and cooler.

I sat in the lounge with my legs crossed and my arms folded for warmth. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It’d only been five minutes since I last checked.

I still didn’t know who we would be expecting from Axis Labs. Maybe my supervisor, Henry. He’d been the first one on the scene during the accident and called the ambulance. Or so I was told. I’d been pretty much out of it the whole time. I hoped it might be this Doctor Philippa Hartwell, as it sounded as though her research area might be related to all this. Either way, for the first time since I’d been turned into a woman, we’d be entertaining a “guest” at our home. I really didn’t want anyone to see me like this. I felt a shiver wash over me and I rubbed at my shoulders.

I heard the sound of clicking heels and turned my head to see Lauren walking towards me. I saw that her dark hair was tied back in a bun, which along with her makeup had the effect of making her look poised and confident.

She carried a pale blue cardigan draped over one arm and a pair of plain black shoes in the other hand. She set the shoes down by the sofa and turned back to me, holding the cardigan open.

“Here you go, honey,” Lauren said. “Put this on before you freeze.”

I leaned forward and slipped my arms through the cardigan. Lauren gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, Lauren,” I said, tugging it around me.

“You’re probably feeling cold because you’re nervous,” Lauren said, nodding towards the shoes. “I brought down some flats as well, just so you look a little more presentable when they arrive.”

They were simple black shoes with a tiny bow on top – thankfully nothing like the heels Lauren was wearing. They looked so small — almost child-sized.

Then I remembered coming home from the hospital and scuffing my way up the driveway in my own oversized work shoes.

I leaned forwards and slipped my feet into them, feeling a little like Cinderella, waiting to see if they would fit. My feet slid in easily and I reached down to pull them snug over my heels.

Just as well there was no Prince Charming around to see.

“There, that’s better,” Lauren said. She looked me up and down, checking that everything was in place. Satisfied, she walked over to the mirror. She leaned close, wiping a trace of lipstick from the corner of her mouth. Stepping back, she adjusted the neckline of her dress before smoothing it across her waist and hips.

We waited. I sat there anxiously, twirling a strand of my blonde hair around my finger, while Lauren arranged the sofa cushions for the second time.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, making us both jump. We froze, staring at each other. I pulled my cardigan tighter around me.

“You wait here. I’ll go answer it,” Lauren said. She cleared her throat, threw her shoulders back and marched towards the door.

* * * * *

I sat alone on the sofa, my senses heightened as I listened, my eyes fixed on the hallway leading to the front door. I heard the door open, followed by the distant murmur of Lauren’s voice as she spoke. Then I heard a second voice. A deeper rumble. A man’s voice.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” I murmured aloud. They were here. Someone was here. In our house. A man was in our house. What was I doing? Sitting here in my wife’s clothes... her panties and bra...

“Just through here,” Lauren said as she stepped back into the open-plan living area. She was followed by an older man, in his sixties perhaps, his greying hair full and unkempt. He wore glasses and a tweed blazer, his hands stuffed in his pockets. As he followed Lauren through, I noticed he walked with a slight stoop. As he got closer I found myself rising to my feet. I recognised him.

He stopped in his tracks, looking at me. “My word...” he said in an unmistakable British accent. He studied me, his eyes sweeping up and down. He shook his head and extended a hand. “Forgive me, I’m Doctor—"

“Rourke,” I said, my voice unexpectedly wavering. “Yes, I know... I mean, we’ve not met but... well... I know,” I flustered, feeling my cheeks redden as I shook his hand. My hand felt tiny as his palm closed around it. I knew Rourke by name and reputation. He was the lead scientist at Axis Labs. I couldn’t believe the top guy had come out to see us!

“Please, call me Thomas,” he smiled, crow’s feet spreading at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m... Scott,” I said, “Scott Carter.” I was suddenly aware of how high my voice sounded.

“Well of course you are,” Rourke said plainly. He turned back towards Lauren. “And this lovely lady is your wife... Lauren, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Lauren smiled back, but I knew that smile well enough to see the tension behind it. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Oh... yes, just water, thank you,” he said. I glanced down and noticed the black briefcase in his left hand.

Lauren looked at me and I shot her a quick pleading look. She held up a finger and silently mouthed, one minute.

Alone with Doctor Rourke, I felt exposed and vulnerable. He was tall, and with his stoop it felt like he was looming over me. “Uh, please sit down,” I managed to say, gesturing to the opposite sofa.

I sat with my knees together, my hands resting on my thighs. Rourke took his own seat and began taking some papers from his case, spreading them out on the sofa seat beside him.

“So, tell me… Scott. How are you feeling today?” he said, frowning as he waited for an answer.

I reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Well… um… okay, I guess…” I didn’t really know what to say.

“Well, you look… comfortable.” He paused, leaning forward slightly to peer over his glasses. “Yes, yes… truly remarkable,” he said, tilting his head slightly.

Sitting there in front of Rourke, I felt like I was under a microscope. With Lauren, when we were just talking, or making lunch, or something ordinary - I’d occasionally just forget. Forget I’d been turned into a woman. Those were my favourite moments, when my mind could pretend that everything was normal.

But now, I was aware of everything. Of my hair framing my face and hanging loose over my shoulders. Of the cling of my clothes and the tightness of my bra. Of the weight of my breasts and the way my backside spread against the cushion when I sat.

To my relief Lauren returned quickly, setting a small tray down, the glasses clinking together. She smoothed the back of her grey dress before sitting beside me. Reaching over, she clasped one of my hands in both of hers.

“Well now,” Rourke began, smiling pleasantly. “Firstly, thank you for welcoming me into your lovely home. Obviously, we find ourselves amidst some very extraordinary circumstances,” he said, removing his glasses for a moment. “This is… unprecedented. I have truly never witnessed anything quite like this in all my years of scientific research.”

Lauren and I glanced at each other. I don’t think either of us felt particularly reassured by that. She gave my hand a soft squeeze.

“Now, I understand this must be unsettling for both of you, but I’d like to begin by asking some questions, if I may,” Rourke continued, slipping his glasses back on and picking up one of his papers.

Lauren waited for my nod before speaking for us. “Yes, of course.”

“Now, Scott, you said you’re feeling okay, which is good to hear. But I’d just like to check off a few things that I have here,” he said waving his paper. “Firstly, have you been in any physical discomfort or pain since the transition?”

I took a deep breath. “No, I haven’t,” I said quietly.

“Any headaches, dizziness or nausea?”

“No.”

“Any gastrointestinal distress?”

“Uh, no.” I rubbed my palms against my thighs, realising they felt clammy.

“And any bleeding?”

I glanced at Lauren as I felt my cheeks burn, wondering what Rourke was getting at. “No… no, nothing like that,” I stammered, reaching for a glass of water.

“So, no pain or distress.” Rourke smiled. “Yes, that’s very good news.”

Lauren seemed to be restless, shifting in her seat, about to say something when Rourke continued.

“Now, any feelings of anxiety, mood swings… depression?”

“Well, uh… anxiety, yes, sometimes…” I took another sip of water.

“It’s been a lot, hasn’t it?” Lauren added, rubbing at my arm. “But we’ve been trying to keep busy, trying to carry on.”

“And do you feel that’s helped you, Scott?” Rourke asked, crossing his legs.

“Uh… yes, Lauren’s been brilliant at that,” I looked at my wife, and smiled warmly. I wanted her to know that I meant it. “She’s very calm and organised... and that helps me to stay calm.”

“That’s very encouraging. And well done to you, Mrs. Carter. Scott seems to be psychologically adapting rather well,” Rourke smiled at Lauren.

“Look, Doctor Rourke… Thomas,” Lauren said, “I’m glad you’re encouraged, but that doesn’t really help us, does it? I think we both want to know – what is Axis doing about this? We were hoping to hear your update on the cure.”

“Of course,” Rourke said, reaching for another set of papers. He cleared his throat. “Now, as yet it is unclear how Scott came to be exposed to compound B-579H. What we do know is that there has been a systemic shift in genetic expression resulting in what appears to be a complete female phenotype.”

He made it sound so clinical, but as I glanced down at myself it had never felt so real.

“Now, what you call a cure, we are calling a genetic reversion pathway,” Rourke said, delivering those last words carefully. “I have a team – led by Doctor Hartwell – working around the clock. First, to reproduce the reaction, and then reverse engineer the mechanism.

“Reproduce the reaction?” I said, looking up at him. “You… you don’t mean—”

“It’s not what you think,” Rourke said. “We’re working with cell cultures in controlled environments. What we achieve on the microscopic scale, is then applied... to the macroscopic.” Rourke gestured towards me. “The first phase of experimental discovery is always the most time-consuming. Fortunately, we are now moving beyond that. I would expect us to have something concrete very soon. From what we’ve seen so far, there is no reason to believe the change cannot be reversed.”

“But what does very soon mean?” Lauren asked, “What sort of timescales are we looking at?”

Rourke leaned back and looked up, as if searching for the right words. “I would say we’re talking about days... not months,” he said.

I took a sharp intake of breath. “R-really?” I stammered.

“As I said, we are working around the clock. No time has been wasted,” Rourke said.

Lauren nodded reassuringly at me and I allowed myself a flicker of a smile.

“Now, that brings me neatly to the next part, which is how you can help us,” Rourke said. He leaned forward, handing a final set of papers to Lauren. “We’ll need you to fill out this questionnaire for us, keeping a daily log of any significant changes...”

Lauren scanned the document, her face contorting. “What is this?” she blurted.

“Lauren?” I asked, sensing the distress in her voice.

Her eyes darted down the page. “Changes in emotional sensitivity... signs of menstruation?” She waved the paper at Rourke. “And that’s not even half of what’s on here! What has any of this got to do with finding a cure?”

“Mrs. Carter... Lauren... It would be extremely useful for our research. If we can just—“

“Scott’s been through enough already,” Lauren said, folding the paper up in her hands. “We just need to know that you’re focusing on the right things.”

“I think we’re all agreed that we want the best outcome for Scott,” Rourke said. He took a deep breath and began placing his papers back into his briefcase. “In any case, it might be a good time for me to leave you two alone to discuss. I would like to set an appointment in a week’s time to discuss the reversion pathway.”

“A week...” I repeated quietly. It still felt like an eternity.

Lauren placed a hand on my thigh. “I think we both need to hear from you a guarantee that you’ll have a cure for us by then,” she said.

“It would be a poor scientist indeed that gave you an absolute guarantee,” Rourke said sadly, “But I feel as confident as I can be that we’ll have some good news for you by then.” He rose from his seat, fastening one of the buttons on his tweed jacket.

Lauren nodded and rose from her seat, smoothing out her grey skirt.

“Scott... a pleasure to meet you. I’ll see you in one week,” Rourke said. He took my hand, but paused, staring down as he held it. “Truly astonishing... the completeness of the transition.”

Lauren shot Rourke a look. “I’ll walk you to the door,” she said, quickly ushering him away.

I watched from the sofa until Rourke and Lauren disappeared from view. My mind raced with everything that had been said, trying to make sense of it all. I still felt overwhelmed from having been so uncomfortably under the spotlight. I heard the front door open, and Rourke’s voice faded away. A slight breeze swept through the house from the open front door. It felt like the house could breathe again.

* * * * *

I sat on the edge of the bed in my peach-coloured pyjamas, rubbing moisturiser along my arms. “Did you hear what he said? He said he was confident they’ll have something by the next time he visits,” I said, with a noticeable tremor of excitement in my soft voice.

“I know. I didn’t want to jinx anything, but I think we’re almost there,” Lauren turned back from the full-length mirror, smoothing out the hem of her nightdress.

“I mean, of course part of me was hoping they’d have the cure now, but that was always going to be a bit unrealistic,” I said, handing the moisturiser bottle to Lauren.

“Do you think you can do another week?” she asked carefully.

“It… it seems like a long time,” I admitted. “But, I can do it. For us.”

“I know you can do it,” Lauren smiled down at me. “At least now you can think of this as… a temporary holiday.”

“A holiday from my penis?” I laughed, and Lauren couldn’t help but join in.

“Ha! Well, yes, I suppose so,” she giggled softly as she started rubbing moisturiser into her cheeks and forehead. I got up and carefully folded the clothes I had been wearing, putting them into the washing basket. Lauren paused as she watched me. “Well for one thing, I’m getting a holiday from always picking up after you. You seem to be a lot tidier as a woman!”

I gave a small hmph as I pulled back the sheets and plumped our pillows.

“Scott… I had an idea earlier, and I wanted to see what you thought,” Lauren said softly.

“Okay?” I answered cautiously.

Without saying anything, Lauren went over to the vanity table, searching amongst her jewellery for a moment. She picked out a plain silver chain and then came over to my side of the bed. She slid open my bedside drawer and picked up… my wedding ring.

“I could see you were sad about not being able to wear it,” Lauren said. “And I was too.” She carefully threaded the chain through the ring. “Turn around for me?” she asked quietly.

I could feel a small lump in my throat. I swallowed and turned around. Lauren brought the chain to my neck, laying it across while I swept my blonde hair away from the back of my neck. She closed the clasp and let it hang. “There, see what you think,” she said, placing a hand softly on my back.

I could feel the cool metal of the chain against my neck, and the weight of the ring as it hung just above my chest. I went to the mirror, seeing it shine under the light. My wedding ring. Our marriage. I felt it between my fingers, feeling comforted by it.

“Do you like it?” Lauren asked, a little cautious.

“I… I love it.” I turned and hugged her. Our bodies pressed together, with our chins resting on each other’s shoulders. Tears began to run down my cheeks.

“Hey, are you okay?” Lauren said leaning back to look at me. She wiped at my tears with a thumb. “It’s been a big day for you.”

“For us…” I sniffed, feeling embarrassed.

“Yes…” Lauren’s own voice cracked and her eyes glistened. We held each other again, letting the stress of the day all come out.

“So, are we supposed to record this emotional reaction?” I half smiled and dabbed at my eyes.

“Oh, forget about all that,” Lauren cleared her throat and rubbed my arms. “Look, just one more week,” she said quietly, leaning closer. “Are you ready?”

I looked into my wife’s eyes.

“Go get ‘em!” we said together.

* * * * *

CONTINUE TO DAY SIX