When Marion opened her eyes, it was to see Belle's sleeping face next to hers. This time however, the sight filled her with joy. I'm so lucky, lucky. I've found someone who can look after me, help me learn what needs to be learned. Someone who's kind and beautiful, and who wants me, wants me for who and what I am. Someone who I can trust. Love? Maybe. Certainly someone whom I've grown intensely fond of over the past few hectic weeks. I'm glad it worked out this way.

Belle's arm was stretched across Marion's middle, holding her close. Marion regarded the frothy, slightly stiff material of the garments they were both wearing. Not quite so stimulating as last night, perhaps, but pretty sensual still this morning. Her eyes examined the room they were in. It seemed to her that her vision was sharper, the colours more vivid, her hearing more acute, her skin more sensitive. She looked at the row of doors facing the bottom of the bed, picking out details and colour variations in the wood she had not noticed the previous evening. (Mind you, she had been somewhat otherwise occupied, the previous evening.)

Is this what it's going to be like, from now on? No wonder women obsess over trivial variations in pastel shades. And does this extra sensitivity make my problem easier or worse? Marion mentally shook her head, and tried to extricate herself from Belle's light grasp, but the movement woke her partner. Marion smiled at Belle.

"Hello, wonderful."

"Hello, gorgeous. I trust you slept well?" Belle said sleepily.

"Brilliantly, thanks to you. I think I was on cloud nine all night." Marion bent down and kissed Belle on the lips. "Thank you for the wonderful thing you did last night. It took me completely unawares. I didn't know it could ever be like that."

Belle managed a sleepy smile. "It took me by surprise as well. I must admit, usually one concentrates on one's own body, but watching you react affected me, as well. I got considerable pleasure from giving to you everything you deserved."

Marion reclined on the bed again. "I feel so sensitive all over now. You seem to have triggered something inside of me. Everything seems brighter, sharper."

Belle levered herself up onto one elbow, leaned across and carefully dragged a fingernail across one of Marion's breasts through the nightdress, encountering a nipple along the way. Marion collapsed as the unexpected shot hit her nervous system.

"Holy shit, Belle!" she gasped, reverting to factory floor vernacular. "Is this what it's going to be like from now on?"

"Wash your mouth out with toilet cleaner, young woman. What do you mean?"

"Young woman? I'm the same age as you."

"Yes and no. You've only been a woman for a few months, even though we're about the same age. I've had time to come to terms with this, you haven't."

"What I mean is, we're terribly vulnerable. If any Tom, Dick or Harriet can come along and push my buttons, and I just collapse on the spot, how on earth do women ever get anything done?"

"You'll learn. The ways of woman are many and devious, mostly the devious. I want to teach you enough so that you'll be able to stand on your own two not-so-dainty feet. I must admit, so far, it's giving me considerable satisfaction to do so."

Marion climbed out of bed, her breast still sparking from Belle's tweak. She headed for the bathroom.

"Mind if I have a shower?"

"Go ahead, do. I'll use the other bathroom."

When Marion got to the kitchen Belle had already arrived and started breakfast. The two were still wearing their nighties, but Belle had put a light housecoat on over hers.

"Orange juice, toast, scrambled eggs, coffee. That okay with you?"

"Yes, fine."

"Usually, I eat breakfast off the counter in here, but as there'll be two of us, we'll have to use the dining table. If you wouldn't mind?"

After a couple of calls to locate the correct plates, mats and cutlery, Marion had the table ready as Belle started bringing the food in.

"Looks and smells good," she said as she started eating. "I suppose you have today all planned out? What are we doing, then?"

"I did have today planned out," Belle said over a mouthful of toast, "but that was when you were only staying one day. As it is, I think we'll have to consider your wardrobe." She looked at Marion meaningfully. "That means shopping, I'm afraid. I can't imagine that you can live out of the contents of that bag of yours for very long." Marion's heart sank. "And we'll have to start your residency application sometime today, as well."

The euphoria with which Marion had started the day began to evaporate rapidly. Belle tried to encourage her, although the bare facts remained.

"Look, we didn't get half of what you needed when we went shopping before. I'll take you to some of the smaller shops I use which are a short walk away from here, and I know a lot of the proprietors, so we can be discreet. We'll do that this morning, and if the weather clears, we can have a walk in the park this afternoon. I was going to suggest that we eat out tonight, but that might depend on whether we can put together an outfit for you to wear or not. It's not going to be a big problem. If you're staying, we don't have to rush things any more."

"What about this residency thing then?"

"Oh, we'll do that on our way out, probably after lunch," Belle replied. "It'll involve calling into the Concierge's office, I imagine. If not, it'll mean a walk over to the Enclave's Security Control Centre. I'm sure they'll be able to fix us up."

State Security. Marion, as Marlon, had wanted nothing to do with Proctors and Enforcers seven months previously, and here was Belle calmly suggesting they pay a call on State Security. Admittedly, the intervening period had modified Marion's view of much of the apparatus of state, but even so! Belle obviously knew what she was doing, though, and seemed quite confident in her ability to handle said apparatus of state.

After clearing away the breakfast debris the two went along to the second bedroom, where much of Marion's clothing still was laid out on the bed. Belle cast an eye over it, shaking her head.

"What were you thinking, girl? You brought no tights at all! It's just as well I bought you that nightdress as well, wasn't it? Where's your other bra?"

"In the washing bag. I had to be careful, I didn't want Hirsch to get the idea I was abandoning the apartment, so I had to leave some things behind."

"Okay." Belle thought for a moment. "I can lend you a pair of tights. Sort yourself out an outfit to wear. Looks like we have a lot to do this morning."

"Are there shoe shops where you're taking me?"

Belle smiled at Marion. "See, I told you! Shoe victim."

"Not quite. I only brought the pair of shoes I was wearing and they're still damp from last night's journey."

"Why didn't you - oh, not enough room. I'll let you off, then. Let's get dressed. Put on some make-up, but not too much, as we'll be trying on one or two things and you wouldn't want to get it everywhere."

The two women walked out of the front of Block Four and turned left, walking along an access road which led between the two rows of buildings that made up the Enclave. It was still just raining, and the cloud above looked heavy, so they held up their umbrellas as they walked to the security gate. Rather than walk through, Belle ushered Marion into the post.

"Service," she greeted the two men seated there. "This is my good friend Citizen Hillier, who is staying with me. It seems, since we made our original arrangement, that she's been made temporarily homeless by a Proctor operation, so she may be staying for some while. I've just dropped her in so that you can get a look at her. She's been fully cleared."

"Service, citizens," one of the men said. "Hillier, did you say?" He checked a list on his terminal. "Yes, that's fine, Citizen Marchand. Citizen Hillier, you're welcome. Are you both going to work?"

"No," Belle said, holding up her bandaged hand. "I've been signed off for a few days. I thought I'd take Marion shopping, as she had to leave yesterday at short notice."

"That's okay," the man said, "see you later, then." He waved as the two women left the post.

"What's up?" Belle asked as they walked along the road. "You seem disturbed."

"I'm just not as comfortable with State Security as you are," Marion replied. "I suppose it's something else I'll have to get used to."

"It's really no big deal," said Belle. "In no time at all you'll just wave as you go through the gate, and they'll wave back, and that's all that will happen. You'll see."

When they got to the shopping area, Belle made a bee-line for a specific shop. "We'll do this one first, as I don't know how long it's going to take us. We can be flexible with what we do after that according to how long Citizen Bouvier takes."

The shop window had several dummies wearing bras, foundation garments and other underwear on display. Belle ushered Marion in. A short woman, obviously quite old, with white hair and thick glasses, appeared from a door at the back of the shop.

"Miss Belle! So nice to see you again." She noticed Marion, and her expression changed. "I'm sorry. How can I help you, Citizen Marchand?"

"It's all right, Michelle. She's with me, and she's the reason for my visit. We need to fit her out. She's not got very much in the way of underwear of any sort. Michelle, this is Marion Hillier, my very special friend. Marion, this is Michelle Bouvier, one of the best foundation fitters in the country, and also a friend. I've known her since I was little, heck, she used to fit my mother."

"Pleased to meet you." Marion shook hands with Michelle. "How is it you have no clothes, then?"

"Ah, that's a long story, and you need to know it before you start," Belle said. She looked at Marion. "With your permission? Michelle knows many of the secrets of her clients, and she would never divulge any of them."

Marion gave assent, and Belle told the story of how Marlon came to be Marion. Michelle pursed her lips and shook her head when she learned of the freak combination of circumstances that had occurred, and she looked at Marion with sympathy.

"I'll take care of you, my dear." She gave Marion a knowing look. "You're by no means the first such person I've fitted in this shop, so don't get embarrassed, now, will you? It'll all be straightforward, and no different to what I do for any other woman. Now, if you'd like to come this way, I'll need you to undress so that I can measure you properly. I'll be asking you a few questions, as well. Since you're relatively new at this business, you might not know the answer to some of them, but don't worry. We'll soon find you something suitable to wear."

Michelle started a new file, and jotted down all measurements and the answers to many questions that Marion answered. After getting fitted out in Stores, Marion had no problem with the level of detail which Michelle asked about, but some of the questions surprised her.

"I think that's all, my dear," the fitter said eventually. "Fortunately for you, you're more or less a standard size, so finding you something that fits shouldn't be a problem for you. I will ask you to come back in six months, or if you feel that anything is becoming uncomfortable, as I realise you're still developing."

"Thank you, er, Citizen Bouvier."

"Call me Michelle, please! We've no need to be so formal here. Now, then," Michelle fingered the Facility Issue bra which Marion had removed, "I understand that, like Belle here, you'll be wearing these to work. They're quite good, actually. These new-fangled laser fabricators can get very close to the correct size these days, so I've no hesitation in saying, continue to wear these. But you'll certainly want something a little more delicate, shall we say, for when you're not at work. How many do you think, Belle dear, three or five?"

Belle pursed her lips as she considered. "Five, I think. Yes, we might as well go the whole hog."

Michelle looked at Belle carefully. "Do you have designs on this citizen, Belle Marchand?"

"Oh, most certainly, Michelle. Most certainly." Belle gave a warm smile.

"Well! That makes a welcome change. I thought you'd never find someone. And you treat this tender new recruit carefully, do you hear? I don't want to hear in six months that you've scared her off, now. Understand me?" Michelle shook a finger at Belle, who grinned.

"Yes, mother," she said, cheekily.

"I should think so. Right, my dear, come this way and we'll find something fit for you to wear."

If Marion had thought that Facility Issue bras fit accurately and supported her comfortably, she was soon disabused of the notion as Michelle brought out a selection of garments that mostly looked as though they had been made by spiders. The well-fitting bras, coupled with the newly-sensitive nature of her breasts, made her re-evaluate her body shape and appearance once more as she stood in front of the mirror. Michelle offered a number of different styles to demonstrate to Marion what was available and to determine what might suit her best for any particular occasion.

Two bras in each of three different styles were selected, together with two others designed for special occasions. Michelle then brought out matching underwear of differing designs to go with the bras. This was followed up with waist and full slips, tights, and a suspender belt and stockings. Marion queried these last two items.

"You're not quite the same as us down below, are you? While tights will be comfortable for most situations, there are going to be occasions when it might be better not to let your bits get too hot, if you follow my meaning. For example, if you're wearing a long evening gown."

Marion was startled by this thought. The idea that she might go to some big event dressed in a long evening outfit at some point, with all the trimmings, had simply never occurred to her, but she recognised that it was an inevitable outcome of her present course of action. She sighed and nodded to Michelle.

"Yes. As usual, you're way ahead of me. It's taking me some time to work out the implications of all this."

"Don't worry, my dear, you're in good hands with Belle here, despite what I said earlier. Now, I think you've got everything, come through and I'll bag it all up for you."

As they left the shop and headed deeper into Old Town, Marion said, "Long evening gown? It hadn't occurred to me that I might be wearing anything like that when I decided to become a woman. Do you do much of that sort of thing? I'm not sure that I can quite cope with formal evening wear just yet."

"It's possible," Belle admitted, "Though I try to get out of the invitations if I possibly can. Working at the Facility has it's uses, sometimes. Fortunately, I don't think we have to cross that bridge for some months yet, so you can relax. We might have to find you a party frock or two, though, for going out with the girls. No, it's okay," Belle soothed as she caught sight of Marion's expression, "We can leave that for a week or two as well. Let's concentrate on filling those immediate gaps this morning."

They had morning coffee in a small cafe where, inevitably, the owner was an old friend of Belle's. A trawl though several small boutiques afterwards produced a light floral-patterned day dress, another plain more formal dress with a matching jacket, two more skirts, a lightweight raincoat and a summer housecoat. The final call was to a small shoe shop where Marion found two pairs of shoes including a pair with a 7cm heel that she just had to have, thus proving Belle's point.

Deciding that they had enough to carry, they retraced their steps to the Enclave. By this time, the rain had stopped, although the clouds were still dark and threatening. True to Belle's word, they simply waved at the gate guards as they let themselves through the turnstile at the barrier. Belle let them into the apartment, they dumped everything on the bed, and she went off to start lunch while Marion began to unpack her new wardrobe items.

As the two picked through the lunchtime salad the light in the room noticeably brightened.

"Good," Belle remarked. "Looks like that's the end of the rain. I think it will be okay to have a stroll in the park after lunch. I don't think we're likely to get wet at all."

Marion twisted in her seat to see the rear edge of the cloud that had produced all the recent rain, with beyond it blue sky and a few fluffy white clouds. The sky was lightening even as she watched. Once lunch was finished, they carried the dishes into the kitchen and then returned to the big windows in the living room. Belle put her arm round Marion's waist as they looked out, and Marion saw what was below the Enclave for the first time.

The wall that Marion had spotted through the storm the previous evening seemed smaller, and appeared to date from the same time as the buildings it protected. Beyond it, there was a double row of trees which ran in both directions as far as the eye could see. The windows of Belle's apartment were comfortably higher than the tops of the trees, so it was possible to get a good view of the park which lay beyond. This swept gently down into the distance, with single trees and groups of trees dotted here and there over the manicured landscape. Marion knew that at the bottom, hidden behind more trees, was New Town and then the river. The rain had washed the air clear, and the view from the apartment was truly spectacular.

To her left, the wall was broken by a huge wrought-iron gate with smaller pedestrian gates to either side. An avenue had originally run between this building and the next, through the gates and down the slope all the way to the city at the bottom. Of course, the large gate was sealed now, but one of the pedestrian gates was still usable with a small security post to one side. Through the gates Marion could see that a wide tarmac path ran between the two rows of trees, and beside it a wide sand track which indicated that it was used for exercising horses. Where the avenue and the paths intersected, Marion spotted four pillars, one in each corner.

"What are those, Belle? I can't quite make them out."

"There are statues there, of the Founders."

"Oh, yes, I can see them now, now I know what I'm looking at. It's tricky when they're under the trees like that."

The pillars were about two and a half metres high, and on top of them were life-size statues of the four people who had created the State forty years previously. Belle released her grip from Marion, but Marion didn't notice, as her attention was on the weathered bronze figures. The statues were facing inwards towards the centre of the intersection, and Marion named them as she identified them. After all, those events had happened ten years before she had been born.

"That one's Ursula van Doorn, I suppose, the party leader who became Prime Minister afterwards. And facing her I suppose must be Henrik Bergstrom, the first President. I don't know which of the two figures in uniform is which, but one must be Air Marshal Patterson, who refused to bomb his own people, and the other -" Marion swung round to face Belle, her eyes wide.

"That's right," said Belle, with an indecipherable expression on her face. "General Bernard St. Clair Marchand." She looked as if she was about to burst into tears. "My father."

Light bulbs popped in Marion's head as she realised the many clues that had surfaced over the previous week or so, from the opulent apartment to Belle's cryptic remarks about her Army service. Then she looked at Belle's face and realised that Belle had dreaded the moment when Marion found out, afraid that it would put her off the relationship. She also recognised, very quickly, the weight of expectation under which Belle had been living all these years. She immediately went to Belle and hugged her.

"You'll have to do much better than that," she murmured into Belle's ear, "if you want to get rid of me. You poor thing, I can't begin to imagine what you've had to put up with all these years. My own trivial problems pale by comparison."

Belle did burst into tears then, as the built-up tension she'd carefully concealed found it's own way out. Marion whispered comforting thoughts in her ear, and eventually Belle rallied. Marion looked directly at her.

"I didn't know any of this when I first met you. Now I do know, it doesn't make any difference to me. It's Belle the person I want to be with, and if you're the daughter of a famous man, then so be it. If I have to live with the trappings of luxury, then I'll just have to force myself."

Belle gave a wan smile. "I was so afraid you'd be put off when you found out. Many others have been, over the years. The girls at the facility who know - and it's not all of them - are all right with it, but, as you say, I've had to put up with quite a lot. It's very difficult being the child of someone famous."

"I bet! I suppose you've had to beat off the hangers-on, as well?"

"Some," Belle admitted. "That's one reason, although not the main one, why working at the facility is so good. I can basically hide up in there, and the long shifts help. It's not seen as a place where 'fashionable' people work, either, which also helps put them off."

Marion looked concerned. "Is my being here going to complicate your life? I don't want to make any more trouble for you."

"Not at all! I wouldn't have asked you here if I was that worried about what might happen. In fact," she added, "this place could do with a bit of a shake-up. Let's get that under way this afternoon by getting you residency here."

As they walked out of the room to get changed Marion remembered.

"Oh! I'd forgotten about last night's Proctor raid. Is there anything we can do from here to find out about what happened?"

"I don't know. I can get into contact with Site Security from here, let's see what they might be willing to tell us."

Belle led the way into a small room with mostly empty shelving covering every part of the wall that wasn't window or door. There was an ornate wooden desk in the middle of it, with a modern executive chair instead of the antique Marion was expecting.

"This was my father's old office," Belle explained. "In the days of paper, all these shelves were filled with books and documents related to his job as Army Chief of Staff. They're all in the State archives now. The original chair has gone to be repaired. I'm not sure they're going to give it back to me, after all, I'd only sit on it, and it's quite valuable now."

Belle sat down and thumbed on the terminal on the desk, entering the address of the facility. After a brief conversation, she was put through to Site Security.

"Service, citizen."

"Service. I'm Shepherd Marchand, and with me is Counsellor Hillier. We were wondering if it was possible for you to give us a status report on the Proctor operation which had been planned for last night. Would it be possible to speak to Director Khiskov directly?"

"Director Khiskov is not available at the moment, citizen, and does not normally take external calls." The woman tapped a few keys and referenced something at her end, and then turned her attention to Belle again. "What connection does this operation have with yourselves, citizen? This information is restricted."

"Citizen, I invite you to verify the credentials of your callers." Both Marion and Belle had inserted their ID cards into the terminal before the call. "We were the facility staff who originally reported the problem, and Counsellor Hillier lives in the residential block under investigation."

"Oh! My apologies, citizens, I had not made the connection with yourselves. Details are scant at the moment, as the Proctor concerned is still investigating. Director Khiskov stayed until the operation was completed, and has not come to work today. Let me pull the file for you." The woman read through the file, then summarised. "It seems that the operation was successful. The Building Supervisor was arrested, along with seventeen other persons not authorised to be in the building, and not known to be visitors. Some of those are known criminals, four were on the wanted list. Widespread tampering with building systems was discovered. Many citizens who our records indicate should have been residents were found not to be living there any more, we have no numbers for those at the present. In addition, it seems there are many irregularities in the accounts for the building, again there are as yet no details. Is that sufficient for your purposes, Shepherd?"

"That's all we wanted to know, citizen. Can you tell me if the building is open for the Counsellor to retrieve any of her belongings?"

The woman checked another file. "I'm sorry, Shepherd, no, it isn't. The building is sealed for investigation, and following release by the Proctor there is a work order for restoration of the systems. It could be a week, it could be two. Is there anything else I might help you with?"

"That's fine, citizen, we've taken up enough of your time. End call."

The women began to get themselves ready for the afternoon's stroll. Belle suggested that Marion wore the floral dress she'd bought that morning, and she would pull out a similar one of her own. Marion's dress was sleeveless with a slash neckline, a tailored bodice and a full skirt which reached just short of her knees. It had a white background, but there were masses of huge red roses all over it making it more red than white. A matching red satin ribbon emphasised her waist. She put on the second of the two pairs of shoes she had bought that morning, a pair of soft lace-ups more suitable for walking in the park. Having applied makeup and brushed her hair, she was looking dubiously at her reflection in the mirror when Belle arrived.

"I would never have bought something like this on my own, Belle," she said. "It seems a little, I don't know, blatant? I feel like bait on a hook, I'm not used to this."

Belle brushed her own skirt into shape with her hands. Her dress was a similar design, although the neckline was much lower. The background was mid-blue, and the design was a mad riot of different flower types and colours.

"I know, but I think today's the perfect day to show you more of what choices you have available now. These are just right for the park, you'll see. We'll just be two women enjoying an afternoon's walk, so don't worry yourself. Are you ready?"

"We're going just like this? Do I need a coat, or a jacket, or something?"

"Not really. I've got my big bag, and I've put in a cardigan each in case the air is a bit fresh after the rain, together with our umbrellas, though I don't really think we'll need those. You'll need your shoulder bag, of course."

Each inspected the other's outfit. They looked like a pair of exquisitely wrapped sweets and both had made an effort with their make-up and hair. Gradually, both became aware that a current was circulating between them and their eyes locked together. The silence was only broken by the sound of barely controlled breathing. Belle finally broke eye contact.

"Damn," she breathed. "Come on, let's get out of here before I do something neither of us would regret."

With bare arms to the shoulder, visible knees, and a skirt which hardly made contact with her legs, Marion felt almost naked as they made their way down in the lift. It was the least she had ever worn outside of her own front door and she had to work to control her breathing. Belle knocked on the Concierge's door and let them in to his office.

"Service, Arthur."

"Service, Citizen Marchand."

"My guest Citizen Hillier here has had an unfortunate change of circumstances. Her apartment block has been closed because of a Proctor operation, and I've decided that she should come and live with me. We work together, on the same shifts, so it seems appropriate. It's likely that this will become a permanent arrangement."

Marion noticed that Belle was stating facts, not asking if a relocation was possible. Now understanding who Belle was, she realised that despite her apparent reluctance over her position, she was quite accustomed to throwing her weight around and getting what she wanted.

"So," she continued, "Can you deal with the transfer, or do I have to go to the Tenancy Committee?" As the Concierge hesitated, she added, "Or do I have to go to State Security?"

"No, no, citizen," the man replied hurriedly. "I'm sure we can make the arrangements from here." He looked at the way the two women were dressed and said, "I assume you're just going out for a walk? I'll check what needs to be done and have everything ready for you to approve by the time you return. Oh, I'll need the citizen's card for a moment now so that I can access her current residency records."

The two entered the park through the security turnstile and were immediately standing in between the four statues.

"These were the original studies that Olano did before he started on the big statues at the bottom end of Victory Park," Belle said conversationally. "I think they're more lifelike than the big ones, I prefer them. These look like real people."

"Did you meet any of the others?" Marion asked.

"I did meet all of them, though I was quite young when they were all politically active. I was only four when Bergstrom was assassinated, for example. As people, I don't remember them that much."

They stood in front of her father's statue. "He was a good father," she said. "I wouldn't care to pass judgement on what he had to do during The Uprising, but I don't have anything to complain about so far as family matters are concerned. I was twelve when he died."

Marion knew that Belle's mother must have been General Marchand's second wife, his first having been killed during the fighting. He had been in his late fifties when he remarried.

"Do you think he would have approved of what you're doing now?" she asked.

Belle shrugged. "We live in a different world. If you mean my choice of employment, then probably. If you're referring to my choice of partner, then probably not."

Partner. Another word that Marion had been mentally avoiding. The sound of it moved her, though, as it meant that what was happening now was real, that Belle wanted her, wanted to keep her. They walked down the avenue and out of the shade of the trees, into the strong afternoon sunshine. After a hundred metres or so Belle stopped and turned to look at Marion.

"How do you feel now, dressed like that?"

Marion felt the sun on her legs and her bare arms, felt the breeze ruffling the skirt and blowing wisps of her hair up. She gently brushed her fingertips on the soft fabric and smiled.

"You're full of surprises today, Belle Marchand. I feel... free. I feel like a bird. The sensation is, to use an over-used word, indescribable. This is an entirely unexpected bonus. I could very definitely get used to being dressed like this."

"I told you," Belle said knowingly. "There are numerous benefits to being female." She caught hold of Marion's hand. "Come on. If we take this path to the right, and then angle back up to the trees, there's a cafe where we can have a drink and sit and be admired."

Marion was still mulling over Belle's last comment when the other caught her hand and led off along a diverging path. This followed the contour of the hill along until it entered a small, widely-spaced grove of trees. The sudden shadow made Marion briefly shiver before Belle struck off diagonally up the hill on a much narrower track. Eventually they reached the double ring of trees again and walked a very short distance along the wide path between them, until they came to a large open space.

They had reached the main entry point where people from Old Town would enter the park. There were some small shops there on either side of the gateway, set against the old brick wall, selling snacks, souvenirs and other park-related items. Belle headed for one labelled "Gelati. Caffe. Italian Ice-Cream. Snacks."

"Hello?"

A thin, older man with greying hair bustled out, a cloth over his arm. He did a double-take as he caught sight of Belle.

"E? Signorina Isabella? 'Appy to see you again, not see you since last summer, eh?"

"Luigi, you old bandit. Yes, it's been too long, you know how busy I am. But I'm here now, and we want some of your delicious coffee, please."

"Oh," he said with curious eyes, "and 'oo is your fren' then? She as pretty as you. Will she make an ol' man 'appy?"

Belle grinned at the old man. "Keep your hands off her, I know what Italian men are like. Allow me to present Marion Hillier, my new partner. She works in the facility with me."

Luigi's face showed outrage. "You 'ave a signora for a partner? Is good, but not as good as a proper signore. Per'aps you and your fren' make Luigi 'appy together?"

Marion blushed the red of her dress at the exchange, even though she suspected neither party was serious about the suggestion. Belle on the other hand sighed.

"Luigi," she said more seriously, "it really isn't that simple, unfortunately. Marion here is a very special person, for a whole number of reasons. One day, I may tell you the story, if you'll treat us to one of your famous family lunches."

"Is a promise. I fetch coffees for you, you find table."

Here, in the break in the trees and with the wall at their backs, it was quite warm as they sat in the sun at one of the outdoor tables. Soon, Luigi returned with a tray of drinks plus some small biscotti, which he placed on the table before sitting facing them. He had obviously been thinking while making the drinks. He examined Marion closely, making her uncomfortable.

"Luigi remember case in news on video, signore made into signora in facility, ten days past, maybe fourteen? Luigi add two and two, do he make four?"

It was plain from the looks on their faces that he had worked it out. Belle nodded reluctantly.

"Yes, you do make four. But Luigi, tell no-one, okay? Not even your ever-expanding family."

He shook his head. "No, is told in confidence. Luigi can do that." He looked at Marion again, appraising her differently this time. "Luigi not guess you not signora, only by what signorina Isabella say today. You very pretty, like signorina Isabella. Sight of you make ol' man very 'appy." He grinned, then looked to one side. "Scuse, signora, signora. I have other customer."

"What's this signorina Isabella business, then?" Marion asked as the proprietor bustled away.

"More of my childhood," replied Belle. "We often came here when I was a young girl, to get ice-creams and such. Although I told him I wanted to be called Belle, he wouldn't do it. I used to stamp my foot and go red in the face, but he persisted. In the end I just had to accept it. He didn't mean anything nasty by it, it's just his upbringing, I guess."

As they sipped their drinks Marion became aware that they were attracting attention from those who passed by. Men of all ages gave them long looks, and the women were almost as attentive.

"Get used to it, love," Belle advised. "They mean nothing by it, and we're giving them a free show. We may get the odd brave soul who wants to try his luck, but we can usually fend them off without it getting unpleasant."

"'Usually'?"

"Most women know how to throw water on the flames. We'll teach you how to react, and what's the best thing to say if it ever gets to that point."

"And if it doesn't?" said Marion, quietly. "There's always one who won't be put off."

Belle shrugged. "Well, in that case there's always Shepherd training. I would consider myself to have failed if it ever got to that point, though. Most people are reasonable about these things."

They sat in the sunshine and sipped their drinks, taking in the view of the park as it swept down the hill before them. Marion gradually realised that the attention she was getting wasn't personal at all, but merely what each man or woman automatically did when a new person entered their line of sight. Sitting at a table in brightly-coloured dresses would certainly draw anyone's attention, but after giving the two women the once-over, the viewer's attention often switched abruptly to another person who had come into view. Marion was somewhat startled to realise that she actually wanted passers-by to approve of her, and she subtly adjusted her sitting position to make her features stand out.

"I wondered how long it would take," murmured Belle.

"What?" said Marion, although she knew exactly what Belle was referring to.

"You. You're beginning to like the attention, aren't you? I saw you shifting in your seat."

"I never thought I would ever hear myself saying this, but yes. If I'm to be a woman, then I have to display to the public what the public expects to see. However, I certainly didn't expect myself to actually like doing it. It gives me a strange kind of feedback... their approval of what they think I am, seems to make me want more of it. Funny," she continued, "if you'd asked me seven months ago to do something like this, I'd probably have cut my own throat to avoid having to do it. But, having at least some of the right equipment," her gaze lowered to her breasts, "means my whole point of view has changed. I am, to my own amazement, beginning to enjoy this."

Belle's hand snaked out and grasped Marion's, and she gave Marion an encouraging smile. "It looks as if you're adjusting quite well, doesn't it? Most of what you're doing should soon become automatic, after you've done it a few times. Mind you, we shouldn't rush things, and there's still a heck of a lot you have to discover."

"If the last couple of days is any sample, I'm all for it," replied Marion. "But yes, I do realise that there's many a trap for the unwary. I still have to give it all my full attention at the moment."

After they had been sitting there a while the clouds started to thicken and the heat began to go out of the air. Belle looked at her timepiece and decided it was time they returned to the Enclave to see if the residency application had been sorted out. She paid Luigi and they started off back along the tree-lined path.

"I'll have to learn to keep my mouth shut," Belle commented as they walked away.

"Why? Because Luigi figured it out? I shouldn't think so."

"Why do you say that, then?"

"Because he's known you a very long time, and he knows where you work and what you do. It's natural he'd draw conclusions. I think someone who doesn't know you that well is not going to be able to work it out unless you tell them a lot more. I think my secret's safe enough with you."

They stopped under the edge of the trees to put on their cardigans, and Marion almost lost it completely then. The feel of the ultra-soft wool against her arms as she pulled the garment on caused her to close her eyes and sway alarmingly.

"Marion! What's the problem? Are you unwell?"

"Ooh. No," she said, opening her eyes, but staring unfocused at Belle. "I'm all right, I think. It's just the sensation of this wool against my skin, it was unexpected." She shook her head to clear it. "Oh, my. I am in a bad way, aren't I? The feel of this cardigan is just so sensational. Talk about traps for the unwary."

Marion arranged the cardigan over her breasts without fastening it. As it was one of Belle's, it hung loosely, but that was probably a good thing considering. Belle picked up her now-empty bag and they continued along the path.

"What are these made of, anyway?"

"Mine is merino, yours is cashmere," Belle replied. "I'm not surprised you came over all wobbly. I like wearing that one myself, but it goes better with your dress colour."

They pushed their way through the turnstile and waved at the gate guard before heading for the entrance to Block Four. The Concierge looked up when Belle opened his door.

"Service, citizens. Your application seems to be in order, so if I can ask you to use your cards to authorise it, I'll get things under way."

Belle and Marion did what was necessary and then made their way back to the apartment.

"So, you've finally got what you wanted," Marion remarked as Belle shut the door.

Belle winced. "Don't say it like that, love, I'm really really not trying to force myself on you." She paused, an uncertain look on her face. "Am I?"

"If you are, it's with my full blessing," Marion replied as she put down her bag. "Sophia said I needed an anchor, and you tick a whole load of boxes at the moment." She lowered her eyes. "You push a whole load of my buttons, too. I'm happy to be here, Belle, and I'm happy to be with you."

Belle gave a smile. "And I'm happy to hear that, but I have to remember not to crowd you. You've been given a chance to sample a unique experience, and I don't want you to lose that. Now, if we're going to be going out for dinner, we can just about get away with keeping these dresses on, but if we're staying in, we'll want to take them off. What do you think?"

"If it's all the same to you, and you can feed us, I think I'd rather stay in this evening. We've been out most of the day, and I've been to a lot of new places, dealt with lots of new situations, and met lots of new people. I just want to relax for the rest of the day, if you don't mind."

"That's fine by me. What kind of meal do you want? Fancy or simple?"

"Keep it simple, I think. Especially with that bandaged hand of yours."

They changed into more casual attire and went to the kitchen to choose a meal, deciding on chicken and vegetables in a cream sauce with spaghetti. Marion did most of the preparation to avoid getting Belle's hand near raw food. It was quick to prepare and Marion set the table while Belle cooked. After they had finished eating and clearing away, they sat together on the settee and talked.

"You're going to have to tell me a little more about yourself, after today's revelations," Marion said.

Belle nodded, her eyes gained a faraway look and she started speaking about her childhood in the Enclave. Marion, trying hard not to be in Counsellor mode but not entirely succeeding, kept the conversation light but informative. She knew that at some point in the future of their relationship, she would have to detail her own past to Belle, but today was Belle's day.

Eventually time passed on and they decided it was time to retire, especially as Marion would be working the following day. Entering the main bedroom, they helped each other undress.

"Shower? You go first, I'll tidy these away."

Marion climbed into the largish shower in the bathroom. She had never seen one that had glass walls or exposed piping before. She started soaping herself down as the cubicle filled with steam. The door to the shower suddenly opened, allowing a waft of cold air to enter.

"Move over, then."

Hands gently pushed Marion over, then began helping with the soap. They began soaping each other and the situation deteriorated from there. Squeals turned into shrieks and giggles, while the atmosphere changed from cleansing to horseplay to something more erotic. Marion discovered three new uses for a loofah. After some time Belle decided that they had wasted enough water and the two emerged, flushed and panting but clean.

"That was the best fun I've had in ages," Belle said as they finished drying themselves.

"I'd have to agree with you there," Marion replied. "But if we keep that up, we'll probably double the water usage for the whole block."

"Don't worry," Belle responded, discarding her towel, "we don't have to use water all the time. Come here," she said, grabbing Marion's towel and flinging it onto her own. She and Marion locked bodies and the assembly made it's way to the bed, falling on it.

"Oof! More?"

"More."

When they finally separated Marion remarked, "We'll have to have another shower, now."

Belle's eyes gleamed. "Is that an invitation?"

"Please! You might be a sex-crazed Amazon, but I'm only human."

They lay in each other's arms, happy and content. Belle sat up.

"I've had a thought. I might have a way to improve your enjoyment of our sessions." She got off the bed and made her way to a cupboard door, opening it to show the row of drawers within. She rummaged about in one of the lower drawers and came up with a shiny object.

"Ta-da! What do you think?"

It looked like an anti-aircraft shell, or possibly a giant lipstick. The thing was chrome-shiny, about twenty centimetres long and tapered to a smooth point at one end.

"Sometimes a girl has to amuse herself, especially working the way we do. I had hoped, now that you've entered my life, that Citizen Silver here would become redundant, but it occurred to me that I might be able to use it on you instead."

Belle approached the bed and climbed back on it, handing the device to Marion.

"When I talked to Sophia about you, she told me that despite appearances the underlying muscle structure of men and women was broadly the same, although of course you don't have anything like the womb in there. But she said that it may be possible to stimulate you the same way I can do myself. Would you like me to try?"

Marion handed the thing back after inspecting it. "It can't hurt, can it. Go ahead, but don't try to keep going if it's obvious it's not working."

"I noticed yesterday that you spread your legs when we got excited. That's a woman's response, which makes me hopeful." Marion stretched out on the bed and spread her legs, noticing that the extra muscle on her rump tilted her pelvis upwards. Her position felt natural. Belle switched Citizen Silver on and then leant over Marion to kiss her on the mouth. Marion's arms came up to hold Belle.

Belle touched the device between Marion's legs behind her testicles, and the contact with the vibrating point made Marion feel as though a small electric current was going through her. Belle gently moved the point up and down between Marion's legs. Much to her surprise, Marion felt a pulse go through her lower body, as her muscles reacted to the stimulus. Soon a train of disorganised pulses began, spreading out from the point of contact across her pelvis like ripples in a pond.

Belle pressed a little harder, and suddenly the pulses synchronised, and a huge wave of exquisite sensation engulfed Marion's lower body. Further, larger waves followed, and Marion could only let out a weak groan as the climax took over her whole body, a sensation she had never experienced before. As the orgasm faded, she opened her eyes and smiled at Belle, pulling her into a close embrace, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.

"Thank you, dearest, thank you so much," she murmured. "That was beautiful, it was just what I needed. Thank you." She kissed Belle tenderly again.

At some point during the evening's activities, something had changed deep inside Marion, so deep that even her subconscious would not notice it immediately, but something so profound that it would affect her for the rest of her life. A sense of rightness, of satisfaction, of contentment, of fulfilment, of security. A sense that she was in the right place at the right time.

This is where I want to be. This is who I want to be. This is what I want to be. I am Marion. I am a woman. Marlon is in my past, and he is what made me what I am, but I am not him, not any longer. I shall cherish his memories, but I am a different person. I am with a good woman who wants me for a partner. She looks after me, does good things for me, does good things to me.

This is where I want to be.