Moonstone - Chapter 1
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Duncan was sure he'd never been here before.  He wasn't even quite sure how he'd ended up in this strange mall full of little antiques shops.  As he walked deeper into the dimmed reaches, he felt as if he was being drawn forward, drawn by a shop at the very end.  When he stepped inside the dusty shop, an older woman looked up from her desk with a cheery smile.

"Are you looking for something, sir?" she asked.

Duncan looked around the shop, puzzled.  "I... don't know."  His eyes latched on a moon-faced clock, and he stepped toward it.  Incongruously, the antique clock started beeping at him, in a cadence he knew all too well.  "Oh, bother."

Duncan woke up enough to press the snooze button on his alarm clock, then sighed.  Another day, another... well, he had to admit, not *just* another dollar.  He rolled over to give his pregnant wife a kiss on the nape of her neck, then carefully extracted himself from the bed so as not to deny her the sleep she needed.  He could shower quietly and be mostly ready for work before she needed to be up.  Assuming their daughter didn't wake early, anyway, but Courtney had never shown rooster-like tendencies.  Not yet, anyway.


Over breakfast he mentioned the odd dream, as they often shared tales of odd dreams - though Sidney was usually the one to tell of her dreams, especially so while she was pregnant.

"Oh, I know that place," exclaimed Sidney.  "It's just up the street from that little bakery we get Christmas treats from every year, you know the one."

Duncan nodded.  "I know.  You like it because it's next to your favourite used book store.  Hm.  Maybe I'll wander up that way after work, to see if anything seems familiar."

"And if you see anything I might like, perhaps something sparkly..." Sidney hinted.

"I know," Duncan laughed.  "Still hoping for that sapphire birthstone, yes?"

"If he's early... we'll see."


So that was how Duncan found himself walking into a dusty mall full of little antiques shops.  This time it felt familiar - not from the dream, but because he *had* been here in the past, just many years ago.  The shops didn't go on forever like in his dream, either.  On the end wall was one final shop, and as Duncan pushed the door open he was rather surprised to see a familiar face - the shopkeeper was the woman from his dream.

"Are you looking for something, sir?" she asked with a knowing grin.

"I... I think so, yes.  Do I know you?"

She shook her head, still grinning.  "Not as such, no."

"Ah."  Duncan frowned.  "But I still...  I dreamed about this place, just last night."

"Did you now?"

"Yes.  Something about a clock... or the moon.  I'm not quite sure."

Her eyes widened a bit.  "Ah!  Well then.  Why don't you sit down, have a cup of tea, and tell me what might be troubling you."

Duncan complied, sitting across from this odd silver-haired woman in a cozy wingback chair.  The tea was herbal, a bit sweet, and relaxing.  He puzzled over just where to start - what *was* his biggest worry?

The shopkeeper broke the growing silence.  "You seem well enough off - not business worries, or money?"

Duncan shook his head.  "No, not that.  Work is good.  Money's a little tight with Sidney off to take care of our kid and a new one on the way, but not to the point that it's a concern.  It's..."  He sighed, and suddenly knew.  "It's to do with my son."

"Your son - how old is he?"

Duncan chuckled softly.  "Negative two months, or thereabouts.  I have a daughter, and we know the next one is going to be a boy.  The thing is... my wife couldn't nurse our daughter, her milk never really came in.  And... well, I know the formula is good, and she has grown up well.  But I can't help worrying.  Breast milk is supposed to be better, right?  I don't want to start my kids off on the wrong foot."

"Children grow up as they will.  But if you truly think this will make a difference for you, I may be able to help."

Duncan stared at - through - the old woman for some time before answering.  "Help?  What kind of help?"

"The uncomfortable kind.  The kind that makes you look at yourself and ask hard questions about what you would be willing to do."  She smiled as she assessed Duncan's reactions over the rims of her half-moon glasses.

"Ah.  I like to think I'm able to face such questions unflinchingly."

The shopkeeper's smile widened.  "Really.  Well, then perhaps we shall see.  Finish your tea, then I have something to show you."


The back room of the shop was filled with dusty shelves, stocked with all kinds of oddments.  The small wooden box that the shopkeeper indicated was not particularly remarkable, save that it had a set of slats on the front that could be opened by a lever on the side.  

Inside the box was a polished sphere about the size of a chicken egg.  It was shaped from some striated grey-white mineral that made it look a bit like the moon, and possessed a pale internal glow.

"It's very pretty," admitted Duncan.  "But why am I looking at it?"

"This is a moonstone.  Its power waxes and wanes with the moon.  When the moon rises in..." she checked a small printed table beside the box, then her watch, "33 minutes, you will see what I mean."

Duncan looked puzzled.  "See what?  And what should I do for the next half hour?"

The shopkeeper grinned at him.  "Your first uncomfortable task.  Go buy a nursing bra that will fit you. Then return here."

"Um... OK.  I guess I'll see you in half an hour, or so."

"I expect you will."


There was a proper mall not far from the little maze of shops, and plenty of time to walk there and back.  There was also plenty of time for Duncan to contemplate just how he'd go about asking a sales clerk for a nursing bra in his size...  At first he fretted over the embarrassment, then started to concoct a fanciful story about stag-party related gags, or perhaps shower-related ones.  In the end, he kept it simple.

"I'd like a nursing bra, one that would fit me."  The middle-aged woman looked him up and down with an appraising eye, almost prompting an outburst of fiction from Duncan, but he held firm.

"I don't suppose you know your bra size?" she inquired, calmly.

"Uh, no.  But my jacket size is 44 tall..."

The clerk shook her head and started digging in the drawer under the till.  "I've got a tape here."  An expert flip of the tape later, and she finally smiled a bit.  "Turns out you were right - 44 inches.  Which makes you a... 48A.  Um, I don't think we have that."

Duncan's laugh was tinged with a slight nervous edge.  "I'm not exactly surprised.  Whatever you have with the smallest cup that will fit will do."

He walked out with a 46C bra that had been hiding on a back shelf for quite some time, judging by the dust on it.  He had been assured quite earnestly that it'd stretch enough to fit.


The bell on the shop door tinkled as Duncan re-entered 'Corrie's Antiques'.  "Hello again."

Corrie, the shopkeeper, grinned as she had before.  "Just in time.  The moon is up, let's see how you handle this."  She led him into the back of the shop once again, and this time when he looked in on the moonstone the glow was distinct, brighter than before.

Corrie looked down at Duncan's hands.  "The rings - are either of them silver?"

Duncan shook his head.  "One's white gold, the other's iron.  Well, stainless steel."

She nodded.  "That shouldn't cause problems, then.  Put the bra on."

Duncan nodded, and started pulling off his shirt.  "I kind of figured that was next... but why?"

"Wait and see," replied the shopkeeper, enigmatically.  She chuckled softly as he struggled with the new bra, and took a moment to close the moonstone's box before turning to give him a hand with it.  "Don't want you to get it on backward or sideways.  That would be... <heh>"

Duncan just shook his head in confusion.  After a bit of stretching and wriggling, the bra was in place and hooked shut.  "I look silly."

Corrie re-opened the slats on the moonstone's box.  "Does that bother you, looking silly?"

Duncan took a moment to consider the question.  "Not all that much, really.  Not since I got involved in theatre a bit at University.  It was kind of the... hey, what's happening?"  He stared at his chest.  The bra was no longer looking pathetic and empty - the cups were filling out slowly.  Duncan stared in fascination as over the course of a minute or so, the cups filled out.  It wasn't until they'd stopped that he even remembered to breathe, or noticed that the band of the bra was no longer so achingly tight.

"How?"

"The power of the moon is the power of transformation.  The clothes guide it, establish intent.  Hey, stop that!"

Duncan pulled his hand out from inside his bra.  "Why?"

"First, I don't need to see you fondling yourself.  Do that on your own time.   Second, you're still in the moonstone's view.  Look at your hand."

Duncan looked down at it, and frowned.  His hand's skin was smoother than it should be, and it seemed oddly... rounded.  Then there was the matter of the nipple sitting right in the middle of it.  "It's turning into a breast?"

"It would have, and probably merged with your breast to boot.  Then you'd have had quite a time getting the bra off, etc.  Which you should probably do, or put your shirt on, unless you *want* your entire top half to turn female."

Duncan ran his soft-skinned hand over his now hairless chest, and saw how the changing skin was working its way down his arms.  "Good point."  He slipped the shirt on, and felt the changes slowly recede.  "I don't think work would understand if I showed up with a female face and figure.  I can probably find some baggy shirts and bind my chest, but that would be a bit much to hide."

Corrie chuckled a bit.  "You'd be surprised what people will ignore if it doesn't fit their worldview.  But there are limits."

Duncan finished buttoning up his shirt, still staring at his chest.  "Um... now what?"

"You go home, see if you produce a reasonable amount of milk."

Duncan nodded.  "Uh... OK.  How... how long will this last?   I can change back at some point, right?"

"As I said, the power of the moonstone waxes and wanes with the moon itself."

Duncan waited a moment, then finally raised his gaze to the shopkeeper's face.   She was obviously waiting for him to figure it out.  "So... by the new moon I'll be back to normal?  Well, that won't help much.  He's not due for another couple months."

"And you can't keep coming back here.  Besides, I might sell it to someone else along the way..."

Duncan sighed resignedly.  "How much?"

Corrie named a figure that made Duncan's eyes widen in surprise.

"That's... wow.  I think I can scrape that much up.  Just barely."

Corrie nodded sagely.  "I'll see you tomorrow night.  I know how much this is worth to you."

"Yes... but...  Well, yes.  I don't suppose you take credit?"

She shook her head.  "Not for magic, no."


Despite having the drive home to absorb what he had done and agreed to do, Duncan was still feeling a bit shell-shocked when he opened the door into his house.   As he walked through the kitchen he called out to his wife Sidney, "Honey, do you believe in magic?"