'Til She Went Away
by dkfenger & JMD

"You turned me into a condom!"

Cyndi sighed heavily as she made the turn into Lynda's neighborhood.  "Come on, girl," she pleaded with her skin-tight leather pants.  "Will you let that go already?"

"Let it go?" Lynda's sent back over their bracelet link.  "You turned... me into... A CONDOM!"

"Ow!" Cyndi spat out with a wince.  "You don't have to shout.  It was just a joke.  I was never really going to use you."

"Well, you said you were," Lynda pointed out.  "When your latest boy-toy didn't have one."

Cyndi rolled her eyes.  "Geez!  I was kidding, okay?  You were perfectly safe in my bag the whole time."

"Yeah?  Well, how was I supposed to know that?" Lynda countered.  "I was deaf and blind in there!"

"And whose fault was that?" Cyndi protested.  "You're the one that insisted that I take the bracelet off.  Remember?  And right in the middle of foreplay, too."

"That's because..."  Lynda's angry response died abruptly.  The silence went on long enough for Cyndi to get worried.  But before she could ask, Lynda came back, much quieter this time.  "...because it felt good."

"It's supposed to," Cyndi replied with a crooked smile.

"For you, sure," Lynda said.  "Not for me."

"Well, why not?"

"Because…" Lynda began with frustration in her tone.  She stopped and took a mental breath before starting over.  "Because your Mr. Right-Now wasn't my..."  She paused again.  "You know I'm saving myself for Milo."

"I know," Cyndi agreed.  "But it wasn't real.”  She paused for a second to think, then added, “Well, not real for you anyway.  So, what was the big deal?"

"It felt real enough to me,” her friend answered quietly.

Cyndi considered the comment before shrugging.  "Okay.  I don't get it.  But if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll make sure to take the bracelet off next time."

"Thanks," Lynda acknowledged with a slight note of sarcasm.  After a moment, she went on in a more positive tone.  "So.  Next time?  Does that mean that Mr. Right-Now..."

Cyndi cut her off with a bark of laughter.  "Hardly.  He was barely even Mr. Right-Then."

"Oh," Lynda sighed, the disappointment obvious.  "Well, can I ask another favor then?  Can you at least buy some condoms and keep them in your bag?  That way, when your next stud du jour doesn't have any, I don't run the risk of filling in."

Cyndi laughed wickedly.  "Oh, there’s no risk of that.  I'm well stocked."

"Then whyinthehell..."  

"I told you.  It was a joke.  A hilarious..."  She stopped as she turned onto Lynda's street.  "Hey!  Are your folks expecting company or something?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Lynda replied.  "Why?"

"There's a cab in front of your house."

"What?" Lynda asked.  "Are you sure?"

Cyndi glanced down with a sarcastic expression.  "You know, I may have spent the better part of the last year as your underwear," she commented, turning into Lynda's drive, "but I'm pretty sure I know where you live."  She pulled the car into Lynda's regular spot and killed the ignition.  She turned and looked back toward the house.  "I thought they weren't leaving for a couple more weeks."

"They're not."

"Well," Cyndi told her, "something must have changed.  Your dad just brought out a couple of suitcases and handed them to the driver."

"What?" Lynda said again.  "Let's go.  We have to find out what's going on."

Cyndi sighed.  "I guess so.  But I was really hoping to make it in before your mom got up."

"Yeah?" Lynda said in a critical tone.  "Well, you should have thought about that before you went home with Mr. Right-Now.  So, either get in there, or turn me back and wait out here in your underwear until the coast is clear."

Cyndi sighed again.  "Not an option," she said, reaching for her bag.  "I'm not wearing any."

"You're not?"

"Nope," her friend confirmed, opening the car door.

"Cyndi," Lynda insisted, "you had on panties when you changed me into these pants yesterday."

"I know."  Cyndi slowly climbed out of the car.  "I left them at his place," she went on, answering the unasked question.  "A little something to remember me by," she added with a crooked smile.

Lynda was silent for a moment, before sighing.  "So, there's nothing between me and..."

"Afraid not."

"Shit," Lynda sighed.  "I really didn't need to hear that."

"You asked," Cyndi said matter-of-factly.  "Besides, what’s the big deal?  I mean, I’ve worn you as panties, so you’ve been there before."

"Maybe," Lynda admitted.  "But never right after you’d..."  She left the rest unsaid.

"Maybe not with a guy," Cyndi pointed out, "but what about last week when I..." She stopped suddenly.  "Crap," she hissed.

"What?"

"There's your mom."

The woman stood on the front stoop of the house, watching the young girl as she slowly restarted her approach.  She was obviously on her way out, as she was wearing a light coat over her casual pants suit.  "Good morning, Cyndi," she said in a neutral tone.

"Mrs. P," Cyndi replied, unable to look her in the eyes.

"Long night?" the older woman asked.

Cyndi answered with an embarrassed shrug.

Seeing that she wasn't going to get any more, the older woman looked past her at the empty car.  "Lynda's not with you?"

Again, Cyndi didn't answer verbally.  Instead, she reached down and gave the leather covering her legs a couple of quick pats.  The older woman looked down at the tight pants, then back up at the girl wearing them.  This time, the shrug was accompanied by a half-crooked smile.

"I see."  Lynda's mother waited a beat before going on.  "And how exactly did she get into that particular... um... condition?"

Cyndi swallowed before answering.  "It's kind of a long story."

"I see," Mrs. P said again.  "Well, it'll have to wait then.  Her father and I have less than an hour to get to the airport to catch our flight."

"WHAT FLIGHT?" Lynda shouted, causing Cyndi to wince.  "Cyndi!  Let me loose!  I need to talk to her... NOW!"

"Okay, okay," Cyndi told her.  "Just let me get out of sight first.  Excuse me, Mrs. P."

The woman stepped to one side to allow Cyndi through the front door, which she quickly hid behind.  A second later, a restored Lynda rushed around the door, still dressed in the clothes she had worn to class the day before.  She was followed a moment later by Cyndi, whose tight white top had become a knee-length sleep shirt.

"Mom!  What the hell?" Lynda shouted.  Ignoring her mother's disapproving scowl, she pressed on.  "What flight?  Where are you going?"

"To Europe, obviously," her mother replied.

"But..."

"I know," her mother said, cutting her off with a raised hand.  "But Marvin called last night.  He's booked us for a couple of preview performances before the main tour starts.  To be ready for those, we're going to have to leave now."  She glanced at her watch.  "Right now."

"But I've got stuff I need to talk to you about," Lynda pleaded.  She glanced over her shoulder toward Cyndi.

"Obviously," her mother commented, "but..."

"And what about the mother/daughter day we were going to have before you left?" Lynda pressed on.  "It was going to be just the two of us.  I was even going to leave Cyndi at home for it."

Behind her, Cyndi narrowed her eyes.  "You were what?"

"Not now," Lynda hissed over her shoulder.  "Mom..."

Her mother put a sympathetic hand on her arm.  "Again, I know, Sweetheart," she said.  "And I am sorry.  I tried to call you when we found out, but apparently you left your phone here last night."  She looked over Lynda's shoulder to the girl behind her.  "Not that you would have been able to answer if you hadn't..."

Cyndi looked away, biting her lip.

"But..." Lynda started again.

"Look, Sweetheart," her mother cut in.  "I promise I'll call as soon as we get to the hotel.  Then, you can tell me everything.  Okay?"

Lynda sighed heavily.  "Okay," she agreed, though her tone indicated otherwise.

Her mother pulled her into a hug.  "That's my girl."  Pulling back, she glanced back over her shoulder, where her husband was waiting impatiently by the cab.  "Okay," she said, turning back to the girls, "we've really got to go.  You two..."  She paused for effect.  "Please.  Try to be careful."

Lynda didn't say anything, so Cyndi spoke up.  "We will, Mrs. P.  I promise."

Her friend's mother looked doubtful.  But after a moment, she bent forward and kissed her daughter on the forehead.  "I'll call," she said softly to her.  "I promise."  And with that, she turned and left the two of them standing in the doorway.

Lynda watched as her parents got into the back of the cab.  Her mother waved one last time to her through the glass as the cab pulled away.  She continued to watch until the cab was completely out of sight.  Then, she turned to her friend behind her.  "Well, shit," she said softly.

"It'll be okay, Lyn," Cyndi assured her.  "You've got me to keep you company.  And it's only a few more weeks until Thanksgiving.  So..."

That got a smile out of her friend.  "I guess you're right," Lynda nodded, closing the door.

"Of course, I am," Cyndi said with a smile that quickly changed into a yawn.  "Now, I don't know about you, but I'm wasted.  So, I'm going upstairs to take a shower, and then crash."

"Yeah," Lynda agreed.  "I could use a nap myself."

"Nope," Cyndi told her.

"Nope?" Lynda repeated.  A second later, she fluttered helplessly to the floor.

"Nope," Cyndi said again.  She bent down and picked up the pink satin panties from the floor.  She held them up and gave them a scolding look.  "I'm going to bed," she told them.  "You?  You're going into the drawer."

"The...  You're not wearing me?" Lynda protested.

"I am not."

"Why not?"

"Because you don’t deserve it," Cyndi told her sternly, turning and heading up the stairs.  "Leave me at home indeed."  Halfway to the second floor, she stopped and took off the magic bracelet.  "Geez," she said, continuing up, "do you kiss your mom with that mouth?"

-----

That evening, Lynda was out of the drawer and human.  "Someone has to cook dinner," Cyndi had joked.  Having tasted Cyndi's cooking, Lynda didn't argue.  She did ask if she could have a shower first, though.  Happily, Cyndi agreed.  

Later, as they ate, Cyndi looked over the lifestyle section of the newspaper.  "Oh, this could be fun," she announced suddenly.  She handed the paper over to Lynda.

Lynda looked at it carefully.  She saw two events advertised on the page.  One was a boxing match between two local boxers that were on their way up the regional fight circuit.  Meanwhile, a local charity was holding a "Saturday Night Fever" dance to raise money for the local boys and girls club.  "Which one?" Lynda asked.

Cyndi gave her an exasperated look.  "The dance, obviously."

Lynda shrugged, handing her back the paper.  "I wasn't sure," she commented.  "I mean, you go dancing all the time."

"Yeah," Cyndi agreed, noting the time and place of the dance.  "But that's dancing for sex.  This would be dancing just for fun."

Lynda eyed her carefully.  "So, if the right guy came along..."

"Look, Lynda," Cyndi explained seriously.  "I'm not going to say that if some really sexy guy was to ask me, I wouldn't go home with him.  But I'm not really in the mood for that kind of action tonight.  I just want to have some fun."

Lynda started to say something, but decided to let it go.  She just smiled and went back to eating.

"I've even got the perfect dress picked out," Cyndi said, causing Lynda to stop again.  "Red," Cyndi went on, "with a halter top and a tight waist, but the skirt will be loose.  That way it can swirl as I twirl."  To illustrate, she got up and spun around with her arms out.

Lynda sighed softly.  "And how were you planning to get this dress?" she asked.  

Cyndi just stopped and gave her a look that said "seriously".

"NO!" Lynda shouted.

Cyndi cocked an eyebrow at her.  "I'm sorry.  No?"

"Cyndi," her friend pleaded, "you can't!"

Cyndi raised her hand, giving her fingers a wiggle.  "I've got a ring here that says otherwise."

"BUT..."  Lynda took a second to calm down.  "My mom is supposed to call," she pleaded.  "Come on, Cyndi.  You already made me miss Milo's call by sleeping all afternoon."

"Hey!" Cyndi countered.  "I let you call him back.  It's not my fault he didn't answer."

"I know that," Lynda agreed.  "But...  Please.  You could always use the ring to turn something else into your dress."

Cyndi plopped back down into her chair.  "Where's the fun in that?"

"Cyn..."

"Besides that," Cyndi cut her off, sitting forward, "I'm not even sure if I could."

Lynda looked confused.  "Why not?"

"Why not?" Cyndi repeated.  "You're the one that suggested I might not be able to use the ring on anything but you.  Last week, remember?  When I was going to use it on that bitch Leesa at the club.  You said it might backfire on me if I tried."  She sat back again.  "Well, I'm not going to risk it.  So, it's you or nothing."

Lynda started to protest some more, but stopped.  She slumped back into her chair.  "Shit," she sighed.

Cyndi eyed her friend carefully for a few moments.  "I'll make you a deal," she said finally.

Lynda looked up.  "I'm listening."

"Find me something else fun to do, and I'll forget about the dance," Cyndi told her.  "But it'll have to be something really good.  I've spent enough Saturday nights wrapped around your butt while you sat around doing nothing."

Lynda thought and looked around for a bit.  What could she possibly come up with that was better than the ring Cyndi already controlled?  After a couple of minutes, she was still thinking.

"Well?" Cyndi asked when she grew impatient.

Lynda sighed.  "I've got nothing," she admitted out loud.

"Then let me offer a suggestion," Cyndi said, sitting further forward.  Before Lynda could reply, she went on.  "What about your dad's vault?"

"Uh...  I don't know."

"Come on, Lynda," Cyndi pleaded.  "I've always wanted to see what was in there."

'But that's just it," Lynda explained.  "There's NOTHING in there.  They've already shipped all of it over to Europe."

"All of it?" Cyndi asked.

"All the good stuff anyway."

Cyndi sat back disappointed.  Then, she thought of something and sat back up.  "Wait a second," she stated.  "Last year, when they went to Europe, they left the wand here.  Right?"

Lynda sighed heavily.  "They did.  And I really wish they hadn't.  Maybe we wouldn't be in this mess now."

"Hey," Cyndi pointed out.  "It hasn't all been bad.  After all, without that first time, you might never have gotten together with Milo."

Lynda considered that.  "That's true," she admitted.

"And think about this," Cyndi continued.  "If they left the wand this time, I could use it to make my dress and I wouldn't need you."

Lynda brightened.  "That's also true."  She gave it maybe a second's more thought.  "Okay, let's go look."

"Sweet!" Cyndi shouted, practically leaping out of her chair.  She waited for Lynda to lead the way, but was surprised when her friend headed for the door to the back yard.  "Where are you going?"

Lynda didn't stop to answer.  "To the vault," she said simply, going through the door.  "Coming?"

Cyndi just stared after her for a moment before rushing to catch up.  By the time she got outside, Lynda was already half way around the pool, heading across the open yard behind it.  Rushing, she caught up to the other girl just as she stopped before an old metal storage shed against the back fence.

"This?" Cyndi commented.  "Seriously?  This?"

"What?"

"This is the vault?" Cyndi scoffed.  "Come on.  It's practically falling down.  It doesn't even have a lock on it."  To illustrate her point, she reached out to pull the rickety looking sliding door open.  It wouldn't move.  She doubled her efforts, but the door remained jammed.  "See,” she insisted, dropping her hand, “it's rusted shut."

Lynda shook her head and smiled.  "Excuse me," she said, nudging her friend to one side.  She reached out and took the door handle in her hand.  With a gentle pull, she slid the door open.

Cyndi looked from the open door to her smirking friend.  "Yeah.  Well, I loosened it for you," she told her.

Lynda's smile grew wider as she pushed the door closed again.  "Go ahead," she said.  "Give it another try."

Cyndi narrowed her eyes at Lynda's triumphant smile.  Grabbing the handle, she pulled as hard as she could.  But even with all her weight behind it, she couldn't get the door to budge.  After a minute, she stood back and watched as Lynda, again, easily opened the shed.  "Let me guess," Cyndi reasoned.  "Magic?"

"What else?" Lynda nodded.  "You have to be a family member to actually open it."  She smiled again.  "You're just lucky I was standing here when you tried.  If you'd have done that without one of us here, you'd be a lawn gnome right now."

"What?" Cyndi shouted.

Lynda tried, but couldn't help but laugh.  "Oh god," she giggled.  "You're so easy sometimes.  You should have seen...  OH, COME ON!  Can't you take a joke?"

"Sure," Cyndi answered, reaching down to pick up the small porcelain sculpture that had taken the place of her friend.  "But only when it's funny."

"Oh," Lynda shot back sarcastically.  "Like turning me into a condom, you mean?"

"Exactly," Cyndi confirmed, tapping her friend's little red nose before heading into the shed.  "Now, let's see what we got here."

As soon as she crossed the threshold, lights came on inside the shed.  Cyndi stopped dead in her tracks.  "Holy crap!" she breathed.  She took a step back and craned her head around to take in the outside of the tiny shed again.  Stepping back forward, she was again amazed at the open space inside that was at least four times bigger.  "Holy crap," she said again.

"Pretty amazing, huh?"  Lynda's tone changed from pleased to disappointed instantly.  "Pretty empty, too."

"Calm down," Cyndi assured her.  "We're not looking for something huge here.  Just something fun.  How about those drawers over there?  Maybe they left something in them."

"Yeah," Lynda agreed, her tone brightening a bit.  "That's where the wand would be if they left it.  Third drawer from the top."

Cyndi moved over to the drawers and set Lynda down on top.  Without a word, she opened the indicated drawer and looked inside.  Instantly, her shoulders drooped.  "Empty," she stated.

"Shit!" Lynda breathed.  

"Easy," Cyndi calmed her, closing that drawer and reaching for the one below it.  "Let's see... Bingo!"  She reached in to get something.

"What is it?" Lynda asked.

"A box," Cyndi answered, pulling it out.

"A box?" Lynda wondered.  "I don't remember a box."

"Maybe it's new," Cyndi said, placing it on a low table beside the drawers.  "There's a note on it."

"What does it say?"

"Danger," Cyndi read.  "Do not open."

"Well, that's pretty clear," Lynda noted.  "Maybe you...  Never mind," she added as Cyndi snatched the lid off the box.  When her friend didn't explode, she asked, "Anything?"

Cyndi sighed.  "Another box," she said, pulling it out.  "And another note.  This one's addressed to you specifically."

"To me?"

"Lynda," Cyndi read for her friend, "the contents of this box are in the developmental stage and still need some work.  So, leave it alone.  You remember what happened last time.  Mom."  She glanced up at her friend.  "What happened last time?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Lynda told her.  "Just put it...  CYNDI!"  Again, she waited for her friend to end up as a pile of ash.  And again, it didn't happen.  "Well?" she asked.

Cyndi sighed again, heavier this time.  "Another freaking box," she said.  She pulled it out and held it in her palm.  "Looks like a ring box."  

"A ring?" Lynda wondered.  "I don't know anything about a ring."

Cyndi glanced back into the box she'd found it in.  "There's another note."  She pulled it out.  And smiled.  "This one's for me."

"You?"

"She says she's knows it's me because you would have stopped by now," Cyndi explained.

"That’s true," Lynda agreed.

Cyndi read on.  "I also know that it's pointless to warn you to put this back in the drawer.  So, do yourself a favor.  Make sure that Lynda is human before you put it on."  She sat the note aside and looked at the lawn gnome sitting on top of the drawers.  "You reckon she was being serious about that?" she asked.

"If she took the time to put that many warnings on it..." Lynda answered.  "Yeah.  Very serious."

"You're sure?" Cyndi asked again.

"Very sure," Lynda told her.

Cyndi sighed as she considered it.  "Fine," she conceded.  A moment later, Lynda was herself again, sitting with her legs hanging over the top of the drawers.  "Now..."  She opened the ring box.  

"Maybe..."  Lynda never finished the statement as her friend pulled a plain gold band out of the box.  "That's it?"

"Apparently," Cyndi confirmed.

"Seems kind of..."  Lynda searched for the word she was after.  "...simple."

"Simple, maybe," Cyndi agreed.  "But powerful.  I can feel it just by holding it.  This thing might even be more powerful than your ring.  Maybe it can change more than one thing at a time."

"And maybe it'll melt you into a puddle of goo," Lynda pointed out.

"Well," Cyndi said, extending her fingers, "there's one way to find out."  She slipped the ring onto her finger.

Both girls waited a few moments, but nothing seemed to happen.  "Well?" Lynda asked.

"I don't know," Cyndi admitted.  She held up her hand and looked at the ring.  "I can feel something, but...  WHAT THE HELL?!"

"Wha..."  Lynda stopped as she saw what was causing her friend's distress.  

Cyndi's fingers had gone completely white and stiff.  Hard as she tried, she couldn't move them.  They had turned into solid marble.  As both girls watched, the whiteness quickly spread into her hand and started up her arm.  She grabbed the arm with her other hand, as if to stop the progress.  But the marble just jumped onto the hand, locking it in place.  Soon both arms were completely engulfed, and the effect spread into Cyndi's torso.

"Lynda!" Cyndi shouted.  "Do something!"

"What?" her friend shouted back.

"How should I know?" Cyndi screamed.  "You're the magician's daugh..."  Her voice cut off as her head was swallowed by the quickly spreading stone.  At the same time, it rushed down her legs, locking the girl in place.  

In the sudden silence inside the vault, Lynda just stared at the statue that had been her friend.  Cyndi had been caught with her mouth still open in her final plea, her eyes wide in panic.  She was completely white from the top of her head to the toes of her sneakers.  The only bit of color to be seen was from the ring that had created her condition.

After a full minute, Lynda broke out of her shock.  "Well," she said, with a slightly crooked smile.  "At least you didn't melt."

She waited for Cyndi's cutting response, but got nothing.

"Cyndi?" she called out, hopping down from the drawers.  "Hey!  You in there?"

Again, she waited, but her friend made no reply.  

"Cyndi?" she tried again, stronger this time.

Still nothing.

"SHIT!"

She moved closer cautiously.  "Cyndi," she said, waving her hand in front of her friend's face, "say something, dammit.  This isn't funny anymore."  

She waited, but her friend remained silent and rigid.  She looked at Cyndi's wrist and immediately saw the problem.  The magic bracelet that allowed them to communicate had also been turned to stone by the powerful ring.  A quick glance confirmed that her own magic ring had also been affected by the new ring’s magic.  

"Shit!"

She leaned in for a closer look at the golden band, wondering if she could get it off.  Cyndi's finger was slightly bent, so it might be difficult.  Still, she had to try something.  Cyndi could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, but she couldn't just leave her like this till her parents got home.  So, taking a breath to steady herself, she reached out gingerly for the ring.

As soon as she took hold of the ring, it became clear that Cyndi's bent finger wouldn't be an issue.  The ring came right off, passing ghost-like through the marble digit.  Lynda wasted no time in putting it back into its box, closing it tight.  She whirled back around, watching for any sign of Cyndi turning back to normal.  But the girl remained silent and cold.

"Come on, Cyndi," she pleaded, but still no response came.  

After a minute, she sighed, her eyes going to her own ring.  She reached out to it, hoping that maybe it would follow the other ring's example, but it was just another part of the solid statue that was her friend.  

"Dammit," Lynda huffed.  "She tried to warn you, you dumb...  Why didn't you listen?"

Turning, she picked up the ring box.  As she went to set it into the box it came from, something caught her eye.  It was another note card like the ones Cyndi had read.  Wondering how Cyndi hadn't seen it, she pulled it out, recognizing her mother's handwriting.

"Don't worry.  She'll change back..."  She turned the note over.  "...eventually."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she dropped the note back into the box, placing the ring in after it.  She stacked all the boxes back together and placed them back in the drawer.  She turned and checked on Cyndi, but the girl remained a statue.  Just out of curiosity, she went through all the drawers, looking to see if anything else had been left behind.

A sudden groan from behind her caused her to turn.  The statue appeared unchanged, but she called out to her friend anyway.  Another groan came back to her this time.  As she moved closer, she noticed that Cyndi appeared to be getting her color back.  

Almost as quickly as she had turned to stone, Cyndi returned to normal.  She stared at her now empty finger.  "Hey, where'd my ring go?" she asked, looking up at Lynda.

"It's back in the drawer," her friend answered.  "And if you know what's good for you, you'll leave it there."

Cyndi eyed her curiously.  "What happened?"

"You turned to stone," Lynda told her.  "Completely.  No Cyndi.  Just a rock."

"I don't remember...  anything."

"That's because rocks don't have memories," Lynda told her.

"So?" her friend protested.  "I mean, I've been everything from your underwear to a fake vagina.  Why should this be any different?"

"Because you were gone, Cyndi," Lynda explained.  "This magic erased you completely."

"Magic can do that?"

"Yeah," Lynda nodded seriously.  "It can.  Now, you know why Mom had you make sure I was around.  I don't even want to think about what would have happened if you'd been wearing me just now."

"Yeah," Cyndi nodded.  "That would have been bad."  She paused as she gave it some thought.  Then, she looked up, a smile on her face.  "Well, let's see what else we can find."

Lynda just sighed, both in frustration and reply.  "Don't bother," she told her.  "While you were... out... I already checked.  I only found a couple of things.  I don't think you'll care for either one."

"I'll be the judge of that," her friend instructed.  "Show me."

With another sigh, Lynda turned back to the drawers.  Opening one, she pulled out something and handed it to her friend.  

"A bra?" Cyndi asked.  Lynda just nodded.  Cyndi held it up to her chest.  "So, what does it do?"

"It inflates your boobs," Lynda told her.

Cyndi looked up at her.  "Really?"

"Really."

Cyndi held it out to her.  "Then you should put it on."

Lynda's eyes narrowed.  "I beg your pardon."

"Come on, girl," Cyndi explained.  "There's a reason I prefer being your panties, you know.  Face it.  You've got a great ass, but you could use a little help up top."

Lynda glanced down at her chest.  "Maybe," Lynda admitted.  She nodded at the bra.  "That's not the way to get it, though."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't stop at your boobs," Lynda explained.  "Wear it for a minute, and you'll go up a couple of cup sizes.  Two minutes more, and you'll be a blow-up doll.  Five minutes, and you'll look like Violet Beauregard."

"Who?"

"The blueberry girl from Willy Wonka."

"Oh."  Cyndi gave it some thought.  "So, just throw it on for a minute, then take it back off."

"Won't work," Lynda told her.  "The effects don't last.  You deflate back to normal immediately."

Cyndi nodded.  "Well, that one's a bust then."  She grinned at her own joke, enjoying Lynda's groan.  "What's the other thing?"

"This," Lynda said, holding up a paint brush.  "It can instantly change the color of anything you touch with it.  But it only lasts for a half hour or so.  So, it's not really useful."

"Oh, I don't know," Cyndi said, holding out her hand.  "I can think of something it could be used for."

"What?" Lynda asked, handing it over.  In reply, Cyndi immediately touched the brush to her outstretched hand.  Instantly, Lynda's skin turned a vibrant green.  "Hey, what's the big idea?"

Cyndi ignored her outburst.  Instead, she looked her over carefully.  "Yeah," she said with a nod.  "That'll do it."

"Do what?"

"Get you thoroughly and completely screwed," Cyndi answered.

Lynda cocked an eye at her.  "I beg your pardon?"

"Come on," Cyndi told her.  "Think about it.  Nerds love green chicks."  

"They do?" Lynda questioned with obvious skepticism.

"Sure," Cyndi nodded.  "That dancer on that old space show.  And the girl in that Guardians flick.  Trust me, you greet Milo at the door looking like that, and he'll forget about that 'wait until marriage' nonsense."  She grinned.  "Hell, get you one of those gaudy-looking bikinis and he'll take you right there in the foyer."  

Lynda gave it some thought.  "Maybe..."

"Still," Cyndi said, handing the brush back, "it doesn't really do anything for me.  I mean, I can change the color of my clothes with this."  To illustrate her point, she used the ring to change her white shirt to black.  "See?"

"I know," Lynda agreed, unable to hide her disappointment.

"So," Cyndi went on.  "That's it?"

Lynda sighed.  "Looks like," she admitted.  "Mom even took the Twister Suit."

"Twister Suit?" Cyndi repeated.

"Yeah," Lynda confirmed.  "She must have finally worked out the kinks in it."

"You've lost me," Cyndi admitted.  "What's the Twister Suit?"

"It was supposed to make the wearer flexible," Lynda explained.  "Really flexible.  So, Mom could do that trick where Dad would twist her around like a rubber band.  That, and the one where her arms and legs would be stretched out really long.  But the suit didn't just make her flexible.  It made her soft."

Cyndi cocked an eyebrow at her.  "Soft?"  Lynda nodded in reply.  "How soft?"

Lynda gave her a serious look.  "Remember that puddle of goo I mentioned earlier?"

"Ewww," Cyndi grimaced.

"Yeah," Lynda agreed.  "Mom spent a week in a five gallon bucket the first time she tried it."

"Again, ewww," Cyndi said again.  She looked around the empty vault one more time.  "Well, girlfriend, I hate to say this, but it looks like you struck out here.  I'm afraid you're headed to the dance."

"But..."

"Sorry."

"I could have just left you a rock for the rest of the weekend, you know," Lynda pointed out.

"But you didn't, did you?"  Cyndi raised her ring hand at her friend.

"Wait!" Lynda shouted.

"For what?" Cyndi asked, frustrated.

"There might be one thing left," Lynda tried.  "In Mom's room."

"Something fun?"

"No," Lynda admitted.  "But it might get you that dress."

Cyndi considered it.  "Okay," she agreed.  "Show me."

-----

"It's a mirror," Cyndi said, obviously unimpressed.

"Yeah," Lynda admitted with a smile.

Cyndi cocked an eyebrow at her.  "A mirror can get me my dress?"

"It can," Lynda told her.  "Watch."  She pushed her friend back so that only she could be seen in the mirror.  She stood up straight and faced her reflection.  "Select," she stated firmly.

The image of Lynda in the mirror shimmered and changed.  In its place was one of her mother, dressed in a long evening gown.  The woman's hair was done up in an elaborate style and her makeup was impeccable.  Standing in front of the mirror, Lynda turned this way and that to take in the look from several angles.  As she did, the reflection of her mother turned with her.  

"Not bad," she said, turning to look at Cyndi, who was watching the reflection curiously.  "But let's see what else we've got."  She turned back to the mirror.  "Next," she intoned.

The image in the mirror shimmered again.  Lynda's mom was now dressed in a more conservative pants suit with much more understated makeup.  After a few moments of checking it out, Lynda again said, "Next."  Again, the image changed.  This time, her mom appeared dressed casually in jeans and a button-up shirt.  "Next."  The image sported a modest cocktail dress.  Black hose covered her legs.  

Lynda turned to Cyndi, the image turning with her.  "What do you think?" she asked.

"Interesting," her friend conceded.  "But I still don't see how this gets me a dress."

Lynda smiled in reply.  "Well, how about this then?"  She turned back to the mirror.  "Accept," she stated firmly.  This time, it wasn't the image that changed.  It was Lynda.  With a shimmer, she was replaced by her mother, dressed exactly as she had appeared in the mirror.  The older woman turned and looked seriously at Cyndi.

"Mrs. P?" the girl asked nervously.

The woman in front of her bit her lip, trying to hold in a laugh, but failing.  Throwing her hands up to her mouth, she broke out into giggles through her fingers.  After a moment, she stopped.  "You should have seen your face," the woman said with Lynda's voice.

"Lynda?"

"Yeah," her friend admitted.  "The mirror just made me look like Mom."

Cyndi came over for a closer look.  She touched Lynda's face and plucked at the fabric of the dress.  "It doesn't feel like an illusion.  It feels real."

"It is," Lynda told her.  "I mean, I'm not really Mom.  I just look like her.  But the change is real."

Cyndi nodded thoughtfully.  "And how long does it last?"

"Until the next sunrise.  Or until I say..."  Lynda stepped back in front of the mirror.  "Cancel," she stated.  With a shimmer, she returned to her own appearance.  The image in the mirror returned to her own reflection.  "Ta-dah!" she shouted, turning back to her friend with a flourish.

"Hmmm..."  Cyndi nodded slowly.  "What happens to the clothes?"

Lynda shrugged.  "Poof!"

"She doesn't get to keep them?" Cyndi asked, obviously unhappy at the idea.  Lynda replied with a shake of her head.  "Well, that sucks."

"Not really," Lynda told her.  "Everything in the mirror is something she already owns."

"Then why use it?"

"Convenience," her friend explained.  "You can get ready for a night out or an appointment without having to go through all the trouble of putting on makeup or doing your hair this way.  I’ve used it more than a few times to get ready for school myself."

Cyndi nudged Lynda out of the way and stood before the mirror.  "So, I could use this to find just the right dress for tonight?  Select."  She watched as the image of Lynda's mom reappeared.

"Not really," Lynda replied.  "I mean, you might find a dress you like, but you'd look like Mom if you decided to wear it."

"Next."  Cyndi checked out the outfit carefully before shaking her head.  "Next.  So, I look like your mom," she said, eyeing the next selection.  "Next.  It's not like she's an old crone or anything.  Next."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?  Next."  Cyndi shook her head.  "Ooh, no.  Next."

"Cyndi," Lynda sighed.  "You said that if you run into the right guy tonight, you'd go home with him.  You can't do that looking like Mom."

Cyndi considered that.  "I guess you've got a point.  Next.  So, what kind of outfits do YOU have loaded into this thing?  Next."

"You..." Lynda stammered.  "You wouldn’t..."  Cyndi cut her eyes over to her before picking another selection.  "Well," Lynda went on, "all I ever used it for was school, so..."

"Ewww," Cyndi said with a wrinkled nose.  "That’s out then.  Next.  But there must be some way we can use this to get me a dress.  Next..."

Lynda sighed to herself.  "Well..."

"Whoa!"

Lynda looked up to see Cyndi staring wide-eyed into the mirror.  She turned to see what had gotten her friend's attention.  Her own eyes shot open at the sight.  "Mom?"  

The image in the mirror, turning to follow Cyndi's movements, was dressed in a skintight black latex shirt with a tight pair of red hot pants.  Black thigh-high latex boots completed the outfit.  Lynda's mom's hair hung loose and free down her back.  Cyndi's grin was reflected on the older woman's face.  

"Looking good, Mrs. P," Cyndi approved.  She turned to Lynda, who continued to stare at the image of her mother.  "You say that your mom actually has every outfit that's stored in this thing?"

"If she's got that," Lynda answered, pointing into the mirror, "I've never seen it."

"I'm not surprised," Cyndi nodded, "but I bet your dad has."  She grinned at her friend's disgusted expression.  "But, you know..."

"NO!" Lynda shouted.  "You're not going out looking like my mom looking... like THAT!"

"Why not?" Cyndi baited her.  "I mean, if I looked like that it wouldn't be a question of IF I would find someone to go home with.  It would be a question of HOW MANY."

"Cyndi..."

"Oh, calm down," Cyndi cut her off.  "I'm just kidding."  She gave Lynda a second to relax.  "Now, you were saying..."

"About what?"

"About my dress," her friend prompted.

"Oh, right."  Lynda took a breath before going on.  "I was just thinking that you could use me."

Cyndi looked at her in confusion.  "Correct me if I'm wrong here," she said, "but I thought that was what you were trying to avoid."

"It is," Lynda agreed.  "I don't mean use me AS the dress itself.  I meant use me as the..."  She paused as she searched for the right word.  "...template for it."

"Explain," Cyndi prompted.

"Use the ring to turn me into your dress.  Then, use the mirror to record yourself wearing me."

Cyndi nodded.  "And I can use that to change into it."

"And I can stay home and wait for Mom's call."

Cyndi gave it some thought.  "That could work," she nodded.

Lynda breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wait..."

Lynda sigh of relief turned to one of worry.  "What?"

"If I record you as the dress," Cyndi pondered, "won't that make two of you?"

Lynda looked confused for a second, then got it.  "You mean will the dress the mirror creates be alive like me?"

"Yeah."

"No," Lynda answered.  "The mirror just records what it sees.  And that will just be you wearing a dress.  It won't know that that dress is actually me."

"You're sure?"

"Well..."  Lynda shrugged.  "I guess I can't be completely sure, since it's never been used this way before.  But I still think this will work."

Cyndi sighed.  "Well, I guess there's really only one way for us to find out for sure."  She reached down and pulled her sleep shirt off over her head.

"Hey!" Lynda called out.

"Oh, take it easy," Cyndi chided her, tossing the shirt onto Lynda's parents bed.  "It's not like you haven't seen me naked before."

"It's not that," Lynda said.  "I thought you said you left your panties with your guy of the hour this morning."

"I did."

"So," Lynda countered, pointing at the thong her friend was wearing, "where did those come from?"

Cyndi crossed her arms under her breasts.  "I have more than one pair of panties, you know."

"Since when?"

"Since your mom took me shopping during your week off as a bra," her friend answered.

"I don’t remember that," Lynda questioned.

"I’m not surprised," Cyndi commented.  "The way you were moping over Milo’s leaving.  Now, if you don't mind..."

She raised the ring and pointed at Lynda, who crumpled to the floor a second later.  Going over, she lifted the dress that she had turned her friend into, holding it up for inspection.

"I thought you were going to make me red," Lynda commented over the bracelet link.

"I decided white would be better," Cyndi replied, lifting her up and over her head.  A few moments later, she was checking herself out in the mirror while she adjusted Lynda's fit on her body.  "Yeah, much better, in fact."

"Looks good actually," Lynda admitted, checking herself out in the mirror.  "I was really expecting something much sluttier than this."

"Not tonight," Cyndi commented.  "Just a little tighter here."  Lynda felt herself constrict slightly around her friend's chest.  "And a little longer there."  Lynda's hem lowered down to just above Cyndi's knees.  "Yeah.  I think that's it," she nodded.  "I just wish..."

"What?"

Cyndi sighed before answering.  "Well, it really doesn't go with these sneakers," she said, looking at the shoes she was wearing in the mirror.  "It's too bad this ring can only change one thing at a time."

"Check Mom's closet," Lynda offered.  "With all the shoes she's got, I'm sure there's something you can use."

Cyndi went over and opened the closet, spotting what she needed right away.  "Perfect!" she cheered, pulling out a pair of white sling-back heels.  Kicking off her own shoes, she quickly put them on.  "Now that's what I'm talking about," she smiled at her reflection.  

"You're going to knock them dead, Girlfriend."

"Yeah," Cyndi agreed.  "I am."  She took another second to admire herself.  "Okay, now what?"

"First," Lynda instructed, "we need to get you into the ... um ... database, I guess you'd call it."

"Okay.  How?"

"Say 'new subject'," Lynda told her.  "Then, say your name."

Cyndi nodded.  "Okay.  New subject... Cyndi."  She saw a slight shimmer pass over the surface of the mirror.  "Did that do it?"

"It should have," Lynda said.

"So, we're ready to record... this?"  She ran her hands up and down in front of herself.

"If you're ready, yeah."

"Of course, I'm ready," Cyndi said with a grin.

"You sure?" Lynda asked.  "You don't want to do your hair and put on some make-up?"

Cyndi huffed.  "Like I'm not perfect without it..." she scoffed.

If she'd had one, Lynda would have shaken her head.  "Well," she said instead, "just tell the mirror to store this look."

"How?"

"Just say 'store'."

Cyndi struck a pose.  "Store."  Again, the mirror shimmered.  "So, that's it?"

"Yup.  You're in."

"So, now I just have to say the magic words."  Before Lynda could comment, she recited.  "Mirror mirror, on the wall... Make me the fairest of them all."

Lynda giggled.  "Cute, but that's not how it works."

"I know that," Cyndi countered, looking down at her dress.  "I saw you earlier, remember?"  Turning back to the mirror, she said, "Accept."

"WAIT!" Lynda shouted.  "Take me..."  Her voice cut off without finishing the sentence.

"Take you where?" Cyndi asked.

Lynda didn't answer.

"Hey," Cyndi tried again, "answer me.  Take you where?"

Still, Lynda remained silent.

"What's with you?"

Nothing.

Cyndi sighed.  "Are you pissed at me or something.  What did I do this time?"

Lynda still had nothing to say.

"Dammit," Cyndi cursed.  "I swear, Lynda, you better start talking to me, or I'm not going to take you off and..."

She stopped, staring into the mirror at her reflection.

"Wait a second," she said after a moment.  "If I take you off, then where's..."  She trailed off in thought, before sighing heavily.  "Crap."  She tugged on the front of the dress she was wearing.  "You're not there, are you?"  She sighed again, but with a crooked smile this time.  "I guess that answers the will-it-record-you question, huh?"

She waited for a comeback, frowning when she didn't get it.

"So, now what?" she pondered out loud.  "You said this will run out when the sun comes up tomorrow, right?  So, you should be okay then.  I could just go on to the dance and...  I mean, it's not like you could stop me.  Not that you could have anyway, but..."

She stopped, looking herself in the eye.  "But it wouldn't be right," she said, surprising herself.

She turned her gaze to the dress she was wearing.  "This is all your fault, you know?" she said with mock anger.  "Well, not your current situation, maybe.  That was all me."  She stopped and sighed.  "It's always all me."  After a beat, she went on.  "That's why everyone hates me."  Another beat.  "Everyone... but you.  Why don't you hate me?  You should, you know.  I mean look at everything I've done to you.  Look at what I've done to you NOW.  You're a dress... for real this time."

She moved over to sit on the edge of the bed.  "So, what's your fault?  Well, I'll tell you."  She smiled to herself.  "You made me care.  The old Cyndi would have gone out that door without a moment's hesitation.  Damn the torpedoes.  Full steam ahead."  She paused.  "But now...  Now, I can't do that.  Well, not to you anyway."  

She waited, as if the dress was going to ask a question.  

"Why not, you ask?  Well, you're my friend.  My best friend."  She sighed.  "My ONLY friend."  After another pause, she added, "And friends don't do that to each other.  So..."

She stood up and walked back to the mirror.  Nodding to herself, she intoned, "Cancel."

"...off first!" Lynda's voice came immediately.

"And there she is," Cyndi smiled.

"Cyndi!" Lynda shouted.  "What the hell!  Be careful.  You could have..."

Cyndi cut her off.  "Did."

"What?"

Her friend made a chopping gesture.  "Gone," she told her.  "Completely erased."

Lynda took a moment to take that in.  "For how long?" she asked.

"I don't know," Cyndi admitted.  "Five minutes, maybe."

"Really?"

"Really," Cyndi repeated, pulling her friend off over her head.  "Why?  Did you think I'd just go to the dance with you that way?"

Lynda hesitated.  "Well..."

"Well, I didn't," Cyndi scolded, dropping her to the floor.  

A second later, Lynda was human and standing before her.  "Why not?"

Cyndi considered the question.  "Two reasons," she answered.  "First, I told you I wouldn't.  Second..."  She smiled her most evil smile.  "It just wouldn't have been any fun.  Not without you actually there to torment."  Before her friend could say anything to that, she turned back to the mirror.  "Now, how do we get me my REAL dress?"

Lynda just stared at her friend.

"What?" Cyndi asked.

Lynda shook her head.  "Nothing."  She pointed at the mirror.  "Tell it 'select'."

Cyndi turned to the mirror.  "Select."  The image of Lynda's mother reappeared.  "Now what?  We have to go through all your mom's selections until we get back to mine?"

Lynda shook her head.  "No.  Say 'switch subject', then your name."

Cyndi did as she was instructed.  The image switched to her, wearing the dress she had created.  "There we go," she smiled.  "I guess I don't really need the shoes anymore."

"Not really," Lynda agreed.  

Cyndi pulled the heels off, handing them to her friend.  As Lynda went to put them back in the closet, she turned back to her reflection.  "Ready?"

"Ready," Lynda called back.

"Accept."  With a shimmer, Cyndi was again dressed for the dance.  She spun a couple of times, letting the skirt flare out.  "How do I look?"

Lynda smiled at her.  "You look good."

Cyndi turned back to the mirror.  "I do, don't I?"

"Just remember..."  

Cyndi turned to her friend.  "What?"

"Well, the magic only lasts so long," Lynda reminded.  "So, if you do go home with someone..."

"Oh," Cyndi considered.  "I see your point.  I'll try to keep that in mind."

Lynda smiled.  "You do that."

"But just in case, maybe I should take a change of clothes with me."

Lynda's smile widened.  "That might be a good idea, too."

Cyndi's eyes narrowed, as she pointed the ring at her friend.  "So..."

"Hey!"

Cyndi broke into a grin.  "Just kidding."

"Not funny."

"Sure it was."

Lynda tried not to, but smiled just the same.  "Maybe a little."

"Well," Cyndi said, turning for the door, "I'm off.  Just going to grab some clothes, then..."

Lynda followed her into the hall.  "Have fun."

"That's the plan," her friend told her.  "And you enjoy your night sitting by the phone."

"I'll do my best."

A few moments later, Cyndi stopped at the front door to grab her purse.  She turned back and looked at her friend.  "Thanks for not leaving me a statue all weekend."

Lynda smiled.  "You're welcome," she said.  "Back at you for not leaving me a dress."

"No problem," Cyndi said, turning back to the door.  "Just remember, that makes us even.  Tomorrow..."  She stopped and turned back with her evil smile.  "Well, tomorrow is another day, isn't it?"  Without waiting for a reply, she was gone.

Lynda sighed.  She turned to look at her reflection in the hall mirror.   "It's your fault, you know," she said to herself.  "You could have left her a statue, but noooo..."  

With another sigh, she headed for the living room to wait for her mother's call.