by Francesca

Author's Notes:  With apologies to Gillian Middleton and her story BJ Sandburg.  I just couldn't help myself.

Jim Ellison stared:  he couldn't believe what was happening, even though it was happening in front of his very eyes.  Blair was on his hands and knees on the floor, moaning:  "It's happening...oh, god, it's happening!"

Jim backed away slowly, feeling fearful.  The curse — god, Blair hadn't been kidding, or crazy... it was real!

His partner's form shimmered, and changed, and shimmered again. Blair's shoulders grew more slender, Blair's legs grew rounder and smoother.  The hips curved, the breasts filled out and...

Jim covered his eyes.  Oh, god, please no.

Finally, he heard Blair give a last, final grunt and collapse to the floor.  Jim's eyes flew open.  "Chief?"

But there was no more Chief.  On the floor, wrapped only in Blair's ratty blue bathrobe, was a woman.  A beautiful woman with pale skin, blue eyes, and a mass of dark curls around her shoulders...

"Holy shit," Jim murmured, covering his face with his hands.  "Holy fucking shit..."

He heard Blair's outraged snort, which was in a higher pitch than he was used to hearing.  "Tell me about it!"

Jim dropped his hands and looked again:  the young woman had rolled to a sitting position, and was looking disgusted.  "Holy shit, Chief," Jim said for the third time.  "I can't believe — god, look at you!"

"I know!" Blair said, getting to his feet:  he looked ready to spit nails.  "I told you man!  I told you about this fucking curse!"  As he stood, the blue bathrobe fell open, and Jim could see the round breasts, the soft swell of abdomen, the slim hairless legs, the lush pubic hair...

"Oh god, Chief," Jim choked.  "Your penis!  You've got no cock!"

"I KNOW!" Blair yelled, throwing himself down on the sofa angrily.  "THANKS A LOT FOR POINTING THAT OUT!"

"But Chief!" Jim nearly shrieked:  he wasn't at anger yet, he was still at fear and denial.  "Your cock — you have no cock! "  He swallowed;  he was on the verge of hyperventilating.  "I like to suck cock!" he whimpered.

"I KNOW, I KNOW!" Blair yelled, kicking at the coffee table angrily, knocking it over.  "Well, you'll just have to fucking deal for a year, won't you?"

Okay:  here was anger.  Right behind fear and denial.  "For god's sake, Chief — if I'd wanted a woman I could've stayed married to Carolyn, couldn't I?" Jim demanded.

Blair glowered back.  "Like this is my fault!"

Jim gestured at him wildly as if to say, "Isn't it?"

"Look," Blair yelled back, "as far as I'm concerned you're getting the good end the deal here, okay??  So shut up before I pop you one.  Believe me, it's no fun being me right now!"  He scratched angrily underneath his left breast.

"All right, all right," Jim sighed, sinking into the armchair.  "It's only a year, right?  And I guess I can still fuck your ass and everything."

Blair snorted.  "That's what you think.  I haven't got a prostate anymore, man — so you can just kiss my ass goodbye."

"This is a nightmare," Jim muttered.  "You'll still suck me, won't you?"

"If you're lucky," Blair retorted.  "And in the meantime, you had better start reading up about the fucking female orgasm, all right?  You're a Sentinel — if you can't find the g-spot, it doesn't fucking exist."  

The End...?