By grapehyacinth

“Roman, Dave is in bad shape.”

I had just gotten off the phone with my mom, and for the first time ever, I was worried about Dave, my stepfather.

“Well, he's in his own natural shape. Which must be depressing. I liked him better when I turned him into a wall.”

For once, I didn't chuckle along with my husband's silly quips. “Roman, stop it. Really. He stopped going to work, he's so messed up.”

Roman scratched his head, standing up. “I thought he kind of liked it at the end.”

“The sensation of being suddenly trapped keeps coming back to him. He feels helpless.”

My husband had been eating a piece of peanut butter pie that I had made for him. He still thought it was funny that I liked to cook occasionally, but he provided everything for us through his transformation ability, so I wanted to contribute something in return.

Still standing, he picked up the remainder of the pie slice and tossed it into his mouth. “Delicious. I couldn't have made it better.”

“It's a lot messier than your perfect pieces of pie.”

“Sometimes 'not perfect' can be refreshing.”

I was still holding the phone in my hand, and I began to play with the buttons. “We should go over to my mom's house and see if we can help Dave.”

“How? I'm no psychiatrist...psychologist...Whatever he needs...”

“I don't know, but talking to him might not be a bad idea.”

As Roman placed on his jacket to leave, a button flew off and rolled under the couch. From there, we could hear it clink beneath the heater. Roman bent down, searching for the runaway button. “Corrie, would you mind being a flashlight for a minute? I can't see a thing.”

“Sure.” You didn't need to ask me twice to be changed. I tossed my purse onto the couch as Roman had already begun to transform me.

“I need to see just where it rolled.”

Needing to make use of me, Roman did not put as much into my metamorphosis as he usually did. He kept a tight grip on my arm as it melded with the rest of me, then, as I thinned, he was soon able to put his hand all the way around my hardening plastic body. My head snapped up a bit, and I felt my face flatten. “Oh, turn me on! Turn me on!” I begged. I guess part of me had become a battery, because Roman gladly obeyed, and I felt the bliss of electricity stream though me.

As I moaned and shuddered in my own little elated world, Roman hunted around until he located the button. “Damn. I can't get in there. Hang on, Corrie. I gotta change myself.”

I lay where he placed me, shining my light and being the best flashlight I could be.

Quickly, Roman morphed into a raccoon. He shimmied under the couch, fished out the button with his claws, and came back towards me. “What a good little flashlight!” he chuckled. “You are so cute like that, all small and compact...I want to hug you!” The raccoon pounced on me, embracing me with its whole body.

“Uh...Roman...” I obviously couldn't return the favor, being a light and all...

“You're so smooth,” he ran his claw down my hard surface.

“Roman, this is... weirder than...weird...”

“A raccoon hugging a flashlight? What's weird about that?” he chuckled, but he jumped off, and I felt myself changing. I was growing limbs again, but considering I was under the couch, I knew I wasn't to be human quite yet.

I was quickly a plump raccoon like my husband. He tried to hug me again, but of course, it didn't stop at that.

We darted through the woods, still in raccoon form, until we reached my mother's house. We had hatched a plan to ease us into the visit, and, fully human, I knocked on the door.

My mother answered, a worried look on her face. “Where's Roman?” she asked, her eyes searching around behind me.

“Here,” said his voice.

A regal peacock sauntered around me and into my mom's living room.

“What the hell?” I heard Dave's voice from inside, and I entered, thinking perhaps this was not as well-thought out as I had assumed.

But my mother's face was a mixture of shock and amazement. She clasped her hands together and exclaimed, “How beautiful! That's Roman?”

“It's me,” said the peacock, flaunting its spectacular tail feathers.

Okay, it was going better than I thought. “I know how much you like peacocks, Mom,” I offered in a gentle tone.

My mother approached Roman, her mouth agape. “Wow...you're...wow! Dave, look! He's...he's beautiful.”

Dave, who was lounging on the couch, did not look her way. “Great. Wow. The man's a bird. Nice.”

Roman became human, and he walked over to Dave. “Dave, I'd like to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Suddenly outraged, Dave jumped up from the couch. He pushed his face into Roman's. “Do you know how much you've screwed me up? All I can dream of is...being a... Oh, God. I can't even get counseling, because no one will believe it...”

My mother placed her hand on Dave's shoulder. “Corrie and Roman came to help you.”

“How the hell would they do that?”

I glanced at Roman. Now I wasn't so sure. “Would you like to be something you actually want to be?”

Several different expressions came over Dave's face at that moment. Hadn't he ever dreamed of being something else? “Why should I suddenly trust him?” He stared straight at Roman. “Why should I let him do anything to me?” His tone was gruff, but I could see that, although very slightly, he was softening.

“I don't have to, but I'm making the offer. I'm trying to help. You were pretty nasty to us, but I guess you didn't deserve being transformed against your will,” Roman said, coughing into his hand.

“Being transformed when you do will it is really fun, however,” I added, with a smile at Roman.

My mother and stepfather looked back and forth at each other. “Dave, it might be good for you,” my mother murmured.

My stepfather studied the floor, then his eyes went past us and gazed out the window. “I'll think about it,” Dave whispered. “I need time.” Gently, my mother embraced him, and we said our good-byes.

As we walked to the front door, I heard my mom squeak, “Please make me a peacock.”

Roman turned around in shock. “What?”

“Please?”

“Well, you'd be a peahen,” Roman stuttered.

“No, I want the tail.”

“But...you'll be a male. Well, unless you want to be a female with male plumage...” For once, Roman appeared uncertain.

I took my mom's hand. “Yes, he can do that. Do you want to try it right now?”

My mother gulped, then straightened up in resolve. “Yes...please...just for a little bit...I want to fly...”

“You're crazy, Kate,” Dave mumbled, and turned away from us all. But as Roman approached her, I saw him watching from the corner of his eye.

“You really want this, Kate?” Roman questioned, lifting his arms towards her.

“Yes. I want to see what Robert did with you all those years...” Her eyes teared up as she spoke of my father, and I saw forgiveness in them. It had always angered her that my father was constantly off with Roman. Now she knew he was transforming with him, but back then she could only suspect the worst.

Wistful, Roman looked into the air for a moment. “Ah, Robert, if only you could see this.” His hands came down on my mother's shoulders, and she made a delighted gasp as the waves of pleasure rocked her changing body. By now Dave's full attention was on her, and as she shrank away, his mouth fell open in awe.

Her arms had rearranged into wings, and she tossed back her head and cooed out of her forming beak.

“Is she finished?” Dave whispered.

In response, my mother gave a great shudder, fanned out her spectacular tail, and looked back, admiring it. Carefully, on her new legs, she made her way over to the dresser and launched herself on top of it so she could view herself in the mirror.

“Mom, you're beautiful,” I cried, tears in my eyes. I really wanted this for her; to be able to feel the freedom of a whole different form, and to be able to fly...

After studying herself approvingly for several minutes, she flew across the room to the door.

“Wait, Kate, let me open it for you.” Roman held it open wide, and my mother's expression was a truly grateful one.

“Just don't stay out too long. I want to get Corrie home.”

She nodded, and launched into the sky, testing her wings and cooing with abandon. Dave walked to the door and watched her antics almost longingly.

Roman walked up behind him. “You can join her, Dave.”

Dave studied him momentarily. “Not yet, Roman. Not yet.”

We walked back home, human hand in human hand, and I was misty-eyed. “It was nice that you did that, Roman. I think it'll help them both.”

“Well, it's a beginning. I don't know if that'll stop Dave's nightmares.”

“We'll visit again soon and see.”

“I do wish things had been different back then with your mother, though. Robert would have been so happy if he had seen her today. But when he told her about me in the beginning, obviously she didn't believe him, and she accused him of having an affair, then she accused him of having an affair with me... It just got worse and worse, and he had no wish to open up to her any further.”

I sighed. It was all true, and very tragic. I think my parents really had loved each other once, but then all the Roman cover-up started, and that was that. “I could almost blame you for all their problems,” I said ruefully.

He gulped. “And you'd be right.”

I wasn't looking to accuse him of anything, but his answer had been an honest one. “Your parents were fine until they moved into your house. And there I was, living there in the woods all that time before, just looking for...entertainment...I was so happy to find your dad. He was so into it...just like you.”

I was listening to him, but I was also stuck on his words “all that time before”... Just how old was my husband? He had dropped some hints, but never quite given me a year. Wasn't it a bit odd not to know how old one's own husband was?

“Let's turn into jasmine vines.”

And before I could comment, my roots were forming, I had thinned into a green stem and leaves, and I was growing up a tree. Hello, Corrie, said another vine that was twisting up towards me. And into the night, we curled and entwined into each other, and we blossomed.

Being in this form, as always with a plant, was quite nice, and the added stimulation of being in each other's embrace kept us happy into the next afternoon. “Ah, there's nothing like photosynthesising the day away. Want to go out to eat?” Roman's vine-body let go of the tree and unraveled from my own. It dropped to the ground and grew into a man who ogled me hungrily. “Even beautiful as a vine. I love you, Corrie.” He hugged me, the vine.

“You're crushing my leaves!” I yelped.

“Come here.” Carefully, he detached my frail form from its support and gently cradled me in his hands. I lay there helplessly, gazing into his eyes, trying to pull the remaining secrets from them... “Okay, let's get you back to Corrie.” As I grew into myself, my eyes remained on him. Just how old was he?

But Roman was in too good of a mood for me to grill him on that matter, so we were off to dinner at one of the restaurants in town.

As the waiter brought our food, an older man who was apparently the owner visited each table. Roman noted this and covered his face somewhat as the man approached. I found this quite interesting.

“Anything else we can get for you?” the man asked.

“No, thanks, we're fine,” I said. “The pasta's delicious.”

“And you, sir? Are you enjoying yourself?”

Roman muttered something, but the man was frowning, like he was trying to dredge up some deeply-buried knowledge. “Are you Roman's son?”

Roman's hand fell away in defeat. “Yes.”

“My God! Amazing resemblance. I knew your father! Nice man! Does he still live in that house in the woods?”

“Well, I do now. He passed away.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. My condolences. But please, let me know if we can do anything else for you here, and it's so nice to meet Roman's son. Your name?”

“Roman,” he uttered in a monotone.

“Ha! Roman junior! Jeff, send that table some wine on the house!” The man went off, and I called my thanks to him.

“He didn't know my father. He knew me,” said Roman.

“I had a feeling.”

“So, how does this work? If he knew your 'father'...” I grew silent as the waiter approached. He placed down the wine, and Roman looked at it mournfully. “Then how old does that make you?” I asked as the waiter walked off.
Roman fingered the wine glass. “Old,” he said.

“How old?”

“Old.” He took one sip of the wine, letting it sit in his mouth before swallowing it. “Mm. Nice.”

“Roman...” I said in warning.

“Two sips won't get me drunk, Corrie. I have a decent tolerance.” He took another gulp and stood up. “Let's get a check. I'm done here.”

I tasted some of the wine, but it was tart and dry. Not my thing. The only wines I seemed to like were sweet ones. I wonder what it would feel like to be wine?

I was quiet on the way home, but when we got inside the house, I set on my husband again.

“Why won't you tell me how old you are?”

“Because I don't want to 'freak you out'. I don't want to hurt you.”

“I know you're older than me. I think I deserve to know how old my husband is.”

Sighing, Roman sat back on his chair. He placed his arm on the table next to it, clicking his nails on the lacquered surface. “I've tried so hard to avoid this...”

“You know when I was born!”

Roman rolled his eyes. “You're a little baby, Corrie. I robbed the cradle with you.”

“That's disgusting.”

“It's true.” I didn't deny it, and he sighed. “Haven't you figured it out yet?”

“Not exactly.”

Taking a very deep breath, he uttered, “I was born in the 1930s, Corrie. 1931, to be exact.”

I staggered back. It wasn't like I wasn't expecting this, but just hearing it out loud was disarming. My young, beautiful husband was really...

“Yes, I'll be eighty-five on my next birthday. Happy Birthday to me! Want to have a party for my eighty-fifth?” he snapped.

“So you're... Roman, what do you really look like?”

Now more uncomfortable than angry, his face reddened. “This is the way I look, Corrie. I just kept myself looking younger.”

“So how do you really look if you don't keep yourself young?”

“I...I don't know. I never let myself get that far. I...”

“Show me.”

“Corrie, you don't want that.”

I was crying. “I do, I do. I want honesty! Otherwise you're wearing a mask all the time...”

“Oh...Corrie...” He stood up, wrestling with his emotions. Then he seemed to have come to a decision, and he started to change. His face looked as if it were starting to melt. The youthful skin piled into craters of wrinkles that practically covered up the sparkling dark eyes. His dark hair sprouted grays and soon was obliterated by them. My husband stooped over, his hands becoming gnarled, his face sporting age spots. He blinked up at me through beseeching eyes. “Corrie...”

Taken aback with horror, I jumped back with a cry. “Oh!” I gasped.

“I'm old, Corrie...Well, not ancient, but... You wanted to see...” he creaked in a broken voice.

“But...but...” The man before me looked skeletal and sickly; his gray skin seemed to hang from his bones. Did eighty-five look this bad, or was this his idea of eighty-five? Who knew, but it was awful to watch, and I turned away, the tears pouring down my face.

“Corrie, it's still me...” He reached a shaking hand out to me, but I shied away further. I couldn't let him touch me. He was an old man, and I had been married to this old man, and he had touched me and we had done things... Inexcusable things...

I turned away even more, and started to sidle off.

“Corrie, wait! I'll just change back!” he hacked, momentarily unable to speak further.

I flipped back around, averting my eyes. “What's wrong with me? Why did I marry you? You're almost dead! You're going to die soon, and it will rip my heart out being without you! I can't bear it!”

“Not necessarily! If I change into a young man, then I'm young! I have no reason to die! I could probably live forever!”

But I could not and would not hear this. How did he know that for certain? What if he just fell down and died one day, even if he was in a young man's body? Who knew how it worked? With my mind reeling, I desperately had to escape. “Roman, change me into a bird!” I demanded, propelling myself towards him. I gritted my teeth at his shaky touch, and then quickly shrank into bird form. With a quick look at the old man, I took wing.

“Come back, Corrie! You're being ridiculous!” Roman had become young again – I could hear it in his voice – but I did not stop or look back. I flew deep into the woods so he couldn't find me.

At the top of the tallest pine, I finally alighted on a branch, exhausted. I had no idea where I was, but it didn't matter. I just needed to fly far and long and let the bird form take over my mind. I had to be buried in the bird consciousness, far away from thoughts of Roman...

As my breath came back, I launched back into the sky, circling the tree, then fanning out into the miles of woods before me. It was getting dark, and finally I settled down for the night. There was no way I was returning to Roman tonight. I just couldn't face him.

I was ashamed of how I acted, but at the same time, I felt justified. Didn't I deserve to know about my own husband? His words came back to me: “If I change into a young man, then I'm young! I have no reason to die! I could probably live forever!” That did make sense...but what if he was wrong?

Something fluttered down beside me and I shrank back.

“It's me, Corrie,” the barn owl said in a low voice.

“No, Roman. Please. I don't know how you found me...”

“I've been following you all day as various animals. Please come home. I should never have done that.”

I began to cry somehow. Who knew birds could cry? “Roman, you have to go. You have to leave me alone. I can't bear to be with you now. Please, I beg of you!”

“Corrie!”

But I flew off. “Don't follow me again or you won't see me for a very long time!” I threw over my shoulder. When I saw him cringe, I felt guilty, but I continued on my way, not looking back.

I flew most of the night, and when dawn came, I tucked my head under my wing and spent most of the day and night sleeping in the hollow of an oak tree.

A lonely male woke me up the next morning and tried to court me, but I rushed at him, scaring him off. I watched the sun rise from my vantage point, and wished Roman could share it with me.

Yes, I missed him, and I realized that no matter what happened to him, I should spend the time with him that I had. And if he lived forever, well, I just hoped he would bring me along with him.

But the age difference? This was no May/September romance.. This was a January/December couple...But did the amount of years on the earth really change things? He had a young man's body, so did it really matter how old he was?

The male came back, and I pushed him away with my wing. This wasn't the male I wanted...although my bird body was telling me otherwise...

My bird body desperately wanted to eat, however. I kept ignoring the deep urges for flesh and meat and little animals. Instead, I picked at berries that I knew were harmless – wild raspberries and blueberries, namely. I knew birds could eat other berries that were poisonous to humans, but I wasn't sure what they were, and I didn't want to die this way.

But I was very obviously a hawk of some sort, and with the increasing hunger pangs, I was losing a lot of my reservations on eating live prey. When a field mouse caught my gaze, it was trapped and eaten before I could even mourn it.

All through the day, I retraced my flight as well as I could, and by twilight, I had located our house. I fluttered down onto the windowsill and peered inside. I could not find Roman, but knowing my husband, he was probably not in his proper form anyway. I flapped over to the door and took a deep, anxious breath.

The door was open a slight crack.

Was Roman okay? I prodded the door with my wing, and it swung open. There was no light in the house, and my avian eyes had trouble making out our belongings in the shadows. However, on the side table next to Roman's chair was an empty wine bottle and a quarter-full glass.

A wave of foreboding came over me. Roman never drank. And the one time he did, he had changed my drunken classmates into beverages, jewelry, doormats... “Roman?” I squeaked in my bird-voice.

For a moment, there was silence, and then something twitched on Roman's chair. “Corrie.”

I landed on the chair arm and peered down at what appeared to be some old yellowing fabric. “Roman? Is that you?”

It didn't answer, and I pecked at it gently.

“Stop it. It's me.”

“What are you?”

Part of the material sagged to the side. “I'm a worthless old pile of rags.”

“Oh, Roman. You're drunk.”

“Don't you think I should be?”

Frustrated, I demanded, “Can't you at least give yourself human form so I don't have to talk to a pile of rags?”

“Fine, you want me in human form? Here!” The rags coalesced into a rag-doll version of my husband, which then slumped down into the chair, its glass eyes staring at me accusingly. “I'm just too old, you know? But now maybe you can get more mileage out of me by using me as a decorative toy. Or give me to a needy child to brighten their day.” His words were hopeless and somewhat slurred, but we had to hash this out.

“Turn me back, Roman.”

The doll didn't move for a moment, then it let out a sob. “Oh, the things you should have been...I've been thinking all day here as a pile of rags...Ah, my little platypus!” The doll suddenly reached its arm out and tapped me on my beak.

“Roman, no!” But instead of becoming human as I requested, I could already feel his power distributing itself through my form, shaping me, my wings and legs becoming limbs with flipper-feet, my avian beak enlarging and becoming the 'duck bill' platypuses were famous for.

The doll laughed, pointing. “I love watching you grow a tail!”

I tried to chide him, but he had kept me from being able to speak. I merely let out a weird sound, somewhere between a croak and a squeak. Roman, stop it! I yelled in my mind.

“But you're so cute like that! If I wasn't so worthless, I'd be your mate. Ever wonder how that works with a platypus?”

No! Roman, I want to talk! And not with you like that! You're like one of those talking dolls straight out of a horror movie!

The doll looked insulted, and immediately grew into Roman at his most dashing. He even wore a tuxedo to get the point home. “I think I make quite a handsome doll, Corrie!” He rose from the chair, taking a moment to steady himself on his legs. He walked over to where I stood on the floor, and I worried for a moment that he might step on me. I shied under the chair, but he fished me out, holding me in his hand and stroking my fur. “Oh, what lovely, lovely fur. I just want all of you in the palm of my hand...You're cute as a button...”

My body froze, and my limbs were curling in, and his power was forcing me into a fetal position. I felt myself melding into a small, shrinking ball which was flattening out until I was a button.

“I made you bright pink like you like,” he murmured, picking me up and rolling me in his fingers.

Turn me back, Roman!

“Come on, you know you love this! You and your father were so obsessed with transformation, it's probably unhealthy!”

Hurt by this, I didn't respond.

“Answer me!”

I didn't. With another sob, he tossed me into the darkness of his pocket and went off somewhere. Then he pulled me back out, and I saw my sewing kit before me. What are you doing?

“I want you near me. I'm making you part of my tux. And you're so bright, you'll stand out.” With shaking hands, he simply sewed me into the inside of his tux jacket. Thankfully, I was plastic, because in searching for my holes, he jabbed me with the needle more times than I could count.

“There. Comfy, huh?” He pulled the jacket closed, and I was bathed in darkness.

I waited for a while, but it was too much. Roman, I'm so sorry. Please take me out.

I heard a bottle clink, and Roman gulped. “Great vintage,” he commented.

Roman, you're right. If you're in a young man's body, then you probably won't die soon. And whatever happens, I want to spend whatever time you have with you.

After a pause, I felt him tap at me from outside the jacket. “But I'm a dirty old man deep inside.”

Well, I wouldn't say 'dirty'.

“So you're okay with me now?”

I keep thinking – what does it matter how long you've been on the earth? I couldn't imagine being with anyone else, and I love my life with you. But I really would like not to be a button right now.

Something obviously clicked. Swinging open his coat, he ripped me from my bindings and rolled and rubbed me in earnest. Of course I couldn't complain because I was enjoying it too much.

“Another thing I realized I never did to you that your father loved...” He burst open the front door and ran into the night.

Roman, how about we go to sleep? You're still drunk, and–

“No, no. You have to have this.” He placed me down in the middle of the yard, and I started to shudder and grow.

“Oh, I always meant to do this. Your dad loved it...”

“What are you doing to me?” I asked nervously. I still didn't have any form, but I felt myself hardening into what seemed like cold stone.

“Oh, just wait and enjoy!” he began to stroke my surface, and between that and the delicious feelings of transforming, I was rendered quite speechless.

I realized I was getting quite large, and was growing and increasing in height and girth. Such bliss! I felt so good, increasing in mass exponentially...

Now I was taller than the treetops and I began to grow nervous. Forcing my voice, I uttered, “Um, you're making me a hill?”

He chuckled, but didn't respond. But by now I was far above the trees. “Roman, you can't do this. Someone will see!”

“What, the mountain in the middle of the woods? It's dark night! And it's a shame no one will see what a majestic mountain you're becoming!”

A fight raged inside of my stone form. I wanted to keep growing and growing into the clouds... It felt wonderful, and I was king! I was majestic and beautiful and bursting with pleasure...

But I was very obvious. “What if a plane flies by me?”

Roman had lodged his hand into a crevice in my surface and was massaging me in it. “That's gotta feel amazing.”

“Yes, but...you have to stop me from growing. Please. Think logically for a minute.'

I felt myself abruptly grow still. Immediately I became depressed as, despite what I'd said, I still craved that feeling of growing and hardening into stone....

“You're so beautiful, Corrie. I need to be all over you.”

Roman planted his feet at my base and began to thin out. He reached his arms onto my surface and they began to spread, growing green and leafy. My husband was a vine once more, but he kept flourishing and expanding, reaching his tendrils until they embraced me in many places, and he was growing higher and higher until he reached my peak.... “Good night, my dear,” uttered a face in the vine. He went to sleep. And, as ashamed as I was to admit it, I let myself fall asleep in my husband's viney-green embrace.

A familiar voice roused me slightly. “Roman, is...it even possible? I saw this huge...mountain... from our house...”

Grudgingly, I awoke completely. The morning sun felt so nice on my surface, and I was not quite ready to not be a mountain anymore...

“The mountain is Corrie. I'm the vine.”

I could feel Roman's branches tighten up against me, and I tittered. “Want to go mountain-climbing, Dave?” My voice was thunderous, and it echoed through the trees like that of a god.

“You sound quite impressive, Corrie,” Roman contributed, shrinking down to himself. He patted his hand against my surface. “Majestic, isn't she?” Before Dave could answer, Roman let out a groan and placed his hand on his head. “Hangover.”

Dave started to laugh. “Seriously, Roman? A powerful...being like you gets a hangover? You were a vine! Didn't you feel it there?”

“Don't know. I was so blissed out, and then I started photosynthesising...But now that I'm back in human form...Oh, boy. I feel it.”

Curious, Dave circled my base. “Corrie, what does that feel like?”

“Great. I'm bigger than I've ever been, and being stone is awesome! But Roman, someone will see me. Make me myself again, okay?”

The shrinking and softening was a letdown, to say the least, but it was necessary. I hoped no one else had come out and seen the new mountain that was rising from the woods.

Roman put his arm around me. “I'm sorry,” he said simply.

“For what? Making me a platypus? For sewing me onto the inside of your tux as a pink button?”

He hung his head. “For everything.”

“I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have freaked out the way I did, and then flew off...”

Dave inserted, “You were a bird?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

For a moment, we were all silent, standing in the divot my immense form had left. Then Roman began, “So, Dave–”

But Dave cut him off. “Roman, turn me into a horse.”

Both Roman and I were speechless.

“Kate always wanted a horse as a girl.”

“So did I,” I murmured, remembering how Roman had offered my father to be one for me without my knowledge. Just the thought that as a child, I might have been riding my future husband around was kind of freaky, honestly.

“I want to be one for her. And don't make me a talking horse. I want it was real as possible...Well, I want to know I'm me, still, but–”

“You want to keep your mind. Yes, that's how I do it. You want it now?”

Dave pondered this. “No, I want Kate to watch me change.”

My mom answered the door, relieved. Her face turned to surprise as she saw Roman and me standing behind Dave. “I was wondering where you went, Dave. Come on in.” She opened the door, but Dave refused.

“You come out, Kate. I have a gift for you.”

My mother ventured outside hesitantly. “What kind of gift?”

“Me.” Dave nodded to Roman, who gently touched his shoulder, setting his changes in motion.

My mother watched with wonder. “What are you becoming?”

With a grunt and a shudder, Dave's tail made its appearance, and his hands and feet solidified into hooves.

“Talk while you still can, Dave,” Roman murmured.

“You always wanted a horse,” Dave shut his eyes as a wave of bliss coursed through his body, pushing black fur to sprout. “I'm going to be it for you.”

My mother advanced towards him, trying to put her arm around him as he changed, but he was growing increasingly taller and his girth was already too big for her to get her arms all the way around. “You want this, Dave?” she whispered into his furry ear.

He fell to all fours with something of a grin from his forming snout. “As long as I make you happy. Ride me, feed me...”

I turned away. It sounded almost X-rated. I knew it was innocent, but still...

Rubbing her hand down his shiny side, my mother uttered, “Look at your muscles...”

That made Roman turn away too, and I saw the smirk on his face.

“More muscles than I ever had as a humannn...nnneigh!”

Dave reared up on his back legs in what could only have been a burst of ecstasy at the conclusion of his metamorphosis. We all stood back and watched him as he let the remaining pleasure vibrate through him. Then he tested his new legs, trotting around in a circle.

“Like it this time, Dave?” Roman inquired.

Dave nodded his head up and down vigorously, and, I think we could all agree, he was magnificent.

“Oh, Dave, you're truly beautiful. But I can't keep you like this forever,”my mom lamented.

Dave nodded his head again.

“No,” Roman stepped in. “This is not permanent, Dave. I'll give you a while like this, but you're not a horse. You're a man. I just hope that you enjoy the experience, and I hope it'll stop the nightmares you've been having.”

With a 'neigh', Dave lowered himself down to the ground.

“He wants you to get on, Kate,” said Roman.

Blushing and grinning at the same time, my mom climbed on the spectacular animal's back, and, gripping its mane tightly, they rode off into the woods.

Roman glanced at me. “Wanna do that too? I'll take you home.”

I smiled. “Just like the time you came to my house when we first got together.”

“Yup.” Immediately, Roman was the same dashing stallion he liked to become. I climbed onto his back, and we rode into the night.