The Look Suits You

(A transformation tale , exploring self-alteration/mutilation and its consequences)

by Anima

The waiting room was nearly deserted, a small circular chamber ringed with uncomfortable chairs. Swift shifted in his seat in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure on his lower back. Lying at his feet like a crumpled bird was the magazine he'd been reading, long forgotten.

'Hmm, wonder if they forgot about me.' He found that idea actually pleased him a bit. The young man wasn't at all certain he should be here. But before he decided just to pick up and go, a young woman swung open a door to the room.

"Swift? Swift Granull? We're ready for you now." She smiled charmingly, and held the door for him. Swift tried not to stare at the receptionist as he stepped past her. Iridescent green and blue feathers framed her delicate face, sprouting directly from the skin. It was one of the simpler procedures done here at Altered States. But the young man had never been this close to one of the altered...his only experiences were with a few folk who lived in his apartment complex. They were not to be feared, especially not here, their point of origin. So Swift shyly ducked his head in greeting and followed the woman to a new room. A number of video screens were arranged in front of a comfortable chair, (Knew there had to be ONE of those around here,) which sat beside a bank of cameras. Bird-lady spoke again, gesturing with a feathered hand toward the seat.

"Please sit down Mr. Granull. These cameras will record an image of you, and incorporate it in a number of simulations. These sims will show you how you'd look with any of the alterations we do here at Altered States. Take your time, this isn't something to be taken lightly." Swift nodded quickly, he'd known that. The bank of scanners and cameras whirred to life as he plopped down in the seat, etching his face and body into Altered's computer memory. Bird-lady sat in a chair about four feet away, ready to answer questions and make suggestions. Before Swift could ask how to start the simulations, the main screen before him lit.

[Welcome to Altered States. Do you understand what you plan on subjecting yourself to?]

Swift nodded, and the cameras picked up the movement.

[Excellent. Which enhancement are you seeking today?] [Complete] [Athletic] [Specialized] [Cosmetic] *Please choose one*

When his index finger extended out to touch the [Complete] option, Swift could've sworn the avian receptionist squawked in dismay.

"Are you aware...?" She managed, half rising out of her chair. Swift sighed and nodded.

"I've been researching for months, I know what the complete package involves. All my affairs are in order."

"It's your body." She shrugged, and sank back down. The computer basically repeated Bird-lady's question, then presented a new menu. A list of genus and species filled the screen, all clickable. Swift chose [Snow Leopard] and was rewarded with a new screen.

[Simulation running....please wait....medical details will scroll by underneath the image]

After a moment, an image of Swift, rendered beautifully, popped into sight. He wasn't a bad looking youth, average height and build, dark-haired, with green eyes. Most would've protested changing himself. That 'most' category included Swift's legal guardians. Swift's electronic portrait melted away before his eyes, warping and twisting. Soon a new being appeared. A tad taller than Swift was now, the new body was sheathed in a gorgeous gray pelage with black rosettes. A tail nearly half a foot thick swayed luxuriously behind the new-Swift. Nude, the illustration also revealed a change or three to the boy's private anatomy...nothing too drastic. Bird-lady hmmed, drawing a leg up beneath her where she sat.

"That's a good look on you Sir. I like the tail especially." But Swift shook his head, and returned to the list.

[Leopard]

A new picture appeared, similar to the first. The pelt had changed hue from gray to gold, the skull shape was slightly different, and the fur wasn't nearly as thick. It was beautiful. But still...not quite what he wanted. Then a new option caught Swift's eye.

[Melinate]

Not entirely sure what the word meant, Swift touched the glowing screen with his fingertip. The frame of the creature on the screen remained the same, but a curtain of darkness descended on it. The gold fur blended with the black, then plummeted in value to a dead ebony. Deep gold eyes stared back at Swift from the screen. He sighed, tension flowing out with his breath, and the teen lay back in the chair.

"This one." He murmured, scanning the medical data.

[Procedure time: Three months Recovery period: Three months]

"The two coincide you know, given the fact that the alterations can't all be done at once. You'll look exactly like that and be walking out these doors in three months, or you get a full refund and procedure reversal." Bird-lady spoke with renewed confidence, back on ground she was familiar with. Swift nodded.

"When can we start?"

Chapter II

This was Hell. It had to be. Sulfurous flames washed his body in agony, as he was spitted on an iron spike and left to cook over the mouth of a volcano. When he had burned to a crisp, someone took his skeleton and hooked it up to a generator. A moment later the power of a thousand lightning strikes was coursing through his bones with enough force to crack them open. Slimy, cowering beasts sucked the marrow from his bones as his tortured mind screamed in anguish. Slowly, the heat faded...and the light brightened. Very carefully and cautiously, Swift opened his eyes. Florescent light bathed him, a mild glow that didn't impinge on his senses. A man in a white smock smiled, leaning over the table to get his face in Swift's vision.

"Good morning Sir. The last treatment is done, you're a new man. I must say I adore your choice...you've turned out even better than the simulations predicted. You can move, your system is fully recovered. And there's a mirror over there, on the wall. Need a hand?" Swift shook his head weakly, and sat up. Wincing a bit, Swift swung himself off the table and felt his cushioned feet hit the floor. He was dressed in a hospital gown or something like it, but the fabric felt...different somehow. He turned to the mirror and gasped. The doctor was right, he did look better than the sims. His body was lithe and strong, every nerve, organ and vein functioning at a level higher than ever before. Swift pulled the gown off and admired himself in the mirror, his gold eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"My congratulations and thanks Doctor...you've surpassed my wildest dreams." Doc grinned and made a little half-bow in the direction of the posing feline man.

"And remember, if you ever need any more work done, or anything reversed, don't hesitate to come on in." Swift nodded, and began pulling on his clothes. He knew he couldn't afford reversal, even if he'd wanted it.

"Oh, one more thing. We have a recovery lounge where most of our patients congregate. I can show you the way if you like. It's a nice way to get acquainted with other Alts." Doc gestured that Swift should precede him.

"Alright, that'd be nice." Another short walk down a gray corridor later, Swift was admitted into what looked like an extreme costume party. More bird-people were sprinkled in the crowd, but they were probably the mildest cases in the lounge. Someone whistled when Swift came in, and heads turned.

"Wow, you got the complete package? That's incredible..."

"I'm so jealous!"

"Wow, maybe I should've been a cat."

"Meow!"

"Come sit by me, handsome!" Swift felt the insides of his ears turning red, and ducked his head shyly. A huge guy shouldered his way to the front of the group, then made his way to Swift's side.

"Don't mind these guys Mister. I'm Joe." Swift looked up, and up, and up, to meet Joe's gaze. The guy was eight feet tall easy, and muscled like an ox. In fact, that was probably what he'd chosen for an enhancement base. Indeed, his soft brown eyes did look a little dull in a bovine way. But the gaze was kind. Swift took Joe's hand, his velvet paw lost in the guy's huge mitt. Joe's fingernails were hard and black, like hooves. Interesting side effect...

"I'm Swift. I'm sure you got the same treatment when you stepped in, right?" Joe nodded, and grinned.

"Mmhmm, though I didn't mind it as much as you seem to. But then you're probably just more modest." Joe chuckled deeply. "Come on, have a seat. I'll introduce you to some of the nicer folks here." Swift soon found himself seated at a round oak table, chatting comfortably with six other Alts. Joe was one, Anthony was another. Anthony had opted for something subtle in the way of Alteration, just some boosted agility and a ridge of flexible spines on his back that protruded from his T-shirt. It made him look a little like an Iguana. Then there was Rita, a young woman with hooves and an extension of hair down her back that resembled a mane. Pete and Sandy, a middle-aged couple from the looks of things, had gone with the bird look. They had complementary colored feathers, violet and green, on their shoulders and arms. They might've had vestigial wings too, Swift couldn't tell. The last was Isabelle. She was gorgeous, something that wasn't the result of any tinkering with her genes. What had changed were her eyes, hands, and rear. She had cat's eyes, housecat's, green with vertically slitted pupils. A long gray-furred tail poured from a hole in the back of her jeans, striped irregularly. Her hands had a soft layer of fur, but only on the backs; soft leathery pads on her palms completed the look. All were quite free about sharing their reasons for getting Altered, and seemed to expect Swift to similarly spill his beans, though they politely never asked him. But it wasn't anything he was ashamed of.

"I changed for the simple reason that my previous body was not...me. I knew I was a cat at heart, I was meant to be one. This was the way I could finally get at the real me." Joe and Rita both nodded, seeming to understand.

"That's the way I feel too Swift. Joe here got boosted for football, and the others just for fashion reasons. Not that there's anything wrong with that of course." Rita paused to smile apologetically at the others. Swift nodded, his gaze drifting across the room. How many others in the room had been Altered just because they hadn't felt right in their normal bodies? As he looked about, his gaze drifted across a clock.

"Um, I better go friends. My parents don't like me coming home too late." Swift didn't mention that he was three months late getting home. At least he'd left a long letter. Joe stood up, and took Swift's hand again.

"Well, take care okay? We like hanging around here, and the staff encourages it. We help new Alts fit in, you know? Drop by again, we'll all go out on the town." The other four chorused agreement, and Swift promised to return. Isabelle got up as well, and headed for the soda machine by the exit.

"Ummm, Swift? If you ever need a job, I think I could get you something with your looks. Call me." Isabelle palmed him a business card with a wink and a smile. Swift stepped out into another dull corridor, and from there to the lobby. He waved at the receptionist, who looked like the same young woman who had met him the first day.

"Looking good Sir. Is it everything you wished for?" She asked, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Everything I hoped for and more dear lady." He replied, smiling as he pushed open the front door. The evening was chill, but Swift hardly noticed with his new fur coat. The young man hailed a cab, and was on his front porch in an hour.

'Well, here goes. I better knock, no sense in scaring them.' Swift considered, then rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door was opened by a tall thin man with graying hair. His eyes widened when he saw the panther-man, but he didn't immediately slam the door shut.

"Hi Jean-Paul. It's me, Swift." His words twisted the man's face into a mask of rage.

"No, you are NOT my son. Whether your name is Swift Granull or not. Marie and I adopted a teenage boy, not a monster! Get off my property." The door slammed.

Chapter III

Swift had not expected anything this severe, and the slam of the door sent him into a state of shock... Slowly, he settled down on the curb in front of the house. Grounding he expected, among any number of miseries parents are known to deal out. But not disowning. Swift was seventeen, could they even kick him out until he was a year older? He hadn't the faintest idea. Maybe the library would have something on the subject. Several thoughts percolated in Swift's brain: Where was he going to sleep? What was he going to do for money? Without the electronic tutor at home, Swift would have to get enrolled at a real high school.

"Swift?" A quiet voice behind him made Swift turn, his eyes meeting those of his adoptive mother, Marie. She was a quiet, plain little woman with short brown hair and hazel eyes. She had a backpack in her arms.

"I can't believe you've done this to yourself...what could've possibly prompted you to destroy the body God gave you? I don't understand." Marie sighed, and Swift felt a smouldering ember of shame in his breast, alongside one of anger at this woman who could never hope to understand his motivations. Marie shrugged, and set down the backpack. "But your father is wrong, shutting you out. I have some of your clothes in here, some money, and your computer. Come back tomorrow, okay? Maybe Jean-Paul will have calmed down a little." Swift nodded, hugging the bag to his chest.

"I will Mom. Good night." Marie nodded, and hurried back into the house. Swift stood, stretched, put on the pack, and set off for the local shelter. School volunteer hours had required him to serve at the place, so he knew how to get there. He could get a bed and a free meal there, while he sorted things out.

"Hi, I haven't seen you here before. I'm Mr. Andrews, the shelter supervisor. We don't get many Alts as...complete as you in here." The balding man sitting across from Swift seemed a little suspicious, and waited for a response. Swift blew on his soup.

"You're wondering why I had the money to get this done and now am hanging out at a shelter." Swift's voice was wry. Mr. Andrews shrugged and nodded. "I got a job only long enough to earn the money for the procedures. My parents saw me and basically disowned me. I'll only be staying for the night, don't worry." Swift returned his attention to the soup. Andrews cleared his throat.

"Actually I do need to worry. I understand your position, but...many of the people who come here are frightened of you. To them, you're a freak, not a person with a problem." The supervisor sounded a little ashamed by this admission.

"So, I'll just take this to my room and keep out of sight." He mumbled. The older man shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry, that's not enough. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Now this was an interesting development. Swift looked up slowly, locking eyes with Mr. Andrews.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then a large number of people who depend on this shelter for their food and housing will stay away, indefinitely, and most likely will fall back into the ruts we've been trying to extricate them from for a long time.” Swift did a mental double-take. This wasn't an angle he'd thought of... Mr. Andrews continued. “Drugs, alcohol, prostitution, all of it. You on the other hand can live for a day on the streets and not come to too much harm." Swift sighed. Put that way, it sounded like he really should go. This was ridiculous. A knot of tension twisted in his stomach, the sensation he always got when he found himself in some kind of trouble.

"Very well. I guess I should start expecting this kind of thing from 'normal' people." His words came out as a quiet snarl, something only Andrews could hear. Swift left in a hurry, throwing his backpack on and returning to the cold world outside. Mr. Andrews took the half-eaten bowl of soup back to the counter and poured it down the sink.

This was the first time Swift had actually been out on the streets this late at night. Before his change of wardrobe the teen would've been scared to death.

'But now I am a creature of the night. I'm armed, heck, I'm practically a walking weapon.' It was true, Swift had the reflexes, teeth and claws of a large panther. Nothing short of a guy with a gun he was good with would scare Swift. These weren't even tough streets though, this was the suburbs, still near where he lived. The shelter had been at the edge of the wealthier district, and instead of heading into 'the jungle,' Swift had opted for the quiet manicured lawns and identical rows of houses. Soon enough, he would find somewhere to sleep until morning. Maybe Jean-Paul would be more reasonable then. But he kept walking and found nothing. Swift was considering using some of his sorely limited cash to ride a taxi to a motel when he recalled the lounge at Altered.

'Maybe I could sleep there. It's open all day and all night, and I did see a few folks resting up there...' The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. Swift found a bus that stopped near Altered States and was soon back in the warm lounge. Some of them recognized him and nodded when he walked in. Anthony was there, and waved Swift over to a booth against the wall.

"Hi Swift. Back already?" Anthony sounded concerned, seeing the state his new acquaintance was in. Swift didn't look good, his head hung like a whipped dog's and his normally proudly arched tail was lying limply on the seat beside him. Even his fine whiskers seemed to droop.

"Family trouble. It'll probably be cleared up by tomorrow." He replied, tapping the tabletop with his claws. The iguanish guy nodded, and sipped his drink.

"No one'll mind if you crash here for the night. The couches in the back are quite nice. I slept here for a while after I was fired. The boss didn't like my spikes." Swift nodded, and glanced at the couches. Most of them were still unoccupied.

"I'm working for a dance school now, my alterations made me a natural candidate." Anthony stood up and did a little number beside the table. Some kind of jig. Swift smiled in spite of himself and clapped with the rest when he finished.

"Yep, they love me." The dancer grinned, and tossed back the rest of his soda. "Have a good night Swift, if anyone bothers you, you can tell the receptionist down the hall." Anthony left Swift to his own devices, slapping a few backs as he stepped out. Tired and a little confused by all of this, Swift crashed on one of the couches. Actually, it was more of a curling-up than a crash, a position that came so naturally to Swift that it made him wonder how much the balance had changed between cat and human... It was quieter back here, and nobody bothered the sleepers. Soon the room and its garish occupants faded from Swift's mind, replaced by comforting darkness.

A muffled cry woke Swift from a nasty dream, in which Jean-Paul had shot Swift and mounted his head on the front door. Sitting up, the teen looked about muzzily for the source of the cry. One of the bird-people was fluttering in dismay, actually molting, as a dog-alt seemed to be stalking it. Swift stumbled to his feet, scooped up his backpack, and made a beeline for the phone.

"Oooh! A kitty-cat! Easier to catch than a bird." The doggish man chuckled, and turned toward Swift. All the canine-persuaded man got for his trouble was a cool 'get lost' look. The phone rang twice before Marie picked up.

"Oh, Swift. I was worried... Jean-Paul isn't budging. He says that until you come home looking human, he'll have nothing to do with you."

"What?! I don't believe this. Do you have any relatives I could stay with while this blows over?" This was getting worse and worse. Marie sounded distressed as she tried to think.

"No, no, I don't think so... I would send you to my sister, but she hasn't spoken to me since Thanksgiving. No, I think you'll just have to get a job and keep an apartment or something. It's best to plan as if your father isn't going to change his mind."

"A job. An apartment. Oh boy..." This was horrible! Swift spent the rest of the phone call reassuring his mom, then made for the door. The bird-woman was quite agitated by now and ready to report Mr. Mutt to the receptionist. Swift walked over and pulled the antagonist aside. He raised a paw out of sight of the rest of the lounge's patrons, and extruded four-inch claws right underneath dogboy's nose. He hadn't bothered trimming them yet, and they definitely looked lethal.

"Stop making a pest of yourself, or I'll gouge out your eyeballs. Understand?" Dogboy nodded, shifting nervously. This nerf hadn't gotten much done really, just a tail, pointed ears, and a partial dog-muzzle with nose. He looked more like a halloween byproduct than an Alt. "Good." Feeling rather proud of himself, Swift padded back out onto the streets.

'A job, hmm? Who would hire me besides a circus?' Then Swift recalled the card Isabelle had given him. He'd been too busy eyeing her to look at the card. He tugged it out of his pant's pocket.

{Fantasies Unlimited Escort Service} (463) 743-8999, ask for Denise}

'An ESCORT service?! I'm seventeen! I...I...but she doesn't know that. It's almost impossible to judge my age under this fur. And wouldn't this be kind of fun?' Swift sat on a bus stop bench to think it over. He probably wouldn't hold the job very long, and of course he wouldn't be forced to do anything improper. Of course.

'I suppose I could lie about my age. The alteration makes the normal aging system screwy, so they can't prove I'm not eighteen. Why not? And maybe I'll see Isabelle again.' The last thought was what eventually decided him.

Fantasies Unlimited was housed in an impressive building, a structure that may at one time have been a country club or something similar. Now it was a playground for the wealthy. Alts were everywhere on the grounds, many accompanied by unaltered people. The guard at the imposing front gate admitted Swift with no questions. From there, a lovely woman with a mousey look to her escorted him to a waiting room. Fifteen minutes later, Isabelle bounced in with a big grin on her face.

"I was hoping I'd see you again Swift...how's life?" She purrred, settling down on the couch, a bare inch away from the panther-man. Swift returned her smile, and inhaled her scent.

"Life's not been treating me well since my alteration dear. I've been thrown out of my house and a homeless shelter both in one night. I was hoping to find some work here..." Isabelle nodded enthusiastically, and put a soft padded hand on Swift's dark shoulder.

"Yeah, it's rough out there. I'd be thrilled to take you on, love! I run this place you know. But I've also done some background work on you. You're not exactly an adult, are you?" This startled Swift, and he reluctantly admitted it. Isabelle shrugged, and tapped him on the nose. "That's purrrfectly all right in your case. In fact, some of the clients we get would prefer a younger male." Swift began to get worried.

"What kind of work would I be doing, exactly?" Isabelle detected the concern in the young man's tone and gave him a wink.

"Oh, nothing indecent. Just playing 'date' to whomever wants you. The pay is excellent. I'd be ever so pleased if you accepted..." She pouted a little, her tail swishing over to curl around Swift's ankle. A croak escaped Swift's throat. "Oh, I can see this is a bit much for you to take in. Why don't you sleep on it? Or, if you preferred, we could sleep on it." Swift looked back up quickly, his heart racing.

"I, I...um, I'd like...that is--" Isabelle laughed huskily, and leaned forward to rest her head on Swift's chest.

"It's settled then."

Chapter IV

Three months later, Swift realized he didn't recognize himself any longer. His father still refused to admit his existence, despite the pleas of his less prejudiced mother. He had plenty of cash, but Swift felt somewhat dirty. Most of his 'dates' had been perfect gentlewomen...and men. A few had scared him pretty badly. But Isabelle made certain her employees were well protected. Oh, Isabelle. She was the real reason Swift stayed on at Fantasies. He knew he wasn't her only lover, and far from being the best one. But he still hoped...that maybe...she cared about him. Those hopes were shattered on Christmas Eve.

"I'm sorry Swift dear, but I'm afraid the lodge is full up. You can stay here at the office and rest up. There might even be an odd client or two. You'll need the money for Christmas shopping, right? Alright, farewell for now, my handsome kitty." Swift put down the phone, feeling his heart shatter into a thousand shards of pain and confusion. As snow fell on the city that night, and churches rang with carols, Swift lay on his double bed and nursed his misery. His gold eyes sparkled with tears in the glow of the street light outside his window, and his soft cheeks were damp.

'She left me. She ran up to that ski lodge of hers with most of the escorts, and left me. The only others she left were the security guard, janitor, and a couple new faces. I can't believe I was so wrong about us.' Day found Swift moping in the front yard of the estate, purposely ruining the once pristine field of snow. After a while, the loneliness got to him. Swift shrugged, and made his way to the front gate.

"Hey Samuel. Got any coffee to spare?" Swift ducked his head inside the little guard shack, smiling shyly at the guard. Sam was a beefy Irish man with copper-colored hair, who was friendly with everyone. The Irish just seemed to make friends with everyone... Well, everyone but the rowdies that sometimes tried to get into the compound. That type of folk were ejected with a nice red flower beneath their nose.

"Aye, that I do. Help yourself. You know Swift, we make a sorry pair on Christmas Day." Sam chuckled and picked his teeth with a splinter of wood. Swift nodded, resting his elbows on the sill of the shack's window. A chill wind whistled across the snow, ruffling his thick fur.

"Yeah, I guess so. Don't you have a family to go home to?" Sam shook his head, and sipped his coffee.

"Nope. I never bothered with marriage. Though seeing all you folk with your fur, feathers and whatnot has set me thinking. I'd love to find a cute otterish girl and settle down. Always loved otters y'know." Swift chuckled with the guard, his breath trailing like a miniature cloud through the air.

"If I see someone like that, I'll be sure to get you two together." Swift promised, raising his mug.

"Cheers!" Samuel returned the salute, and downed the rest of his drink. They sipped their mugs quietly for a moment, before Samuel turned to Swift, raising a thick eyebrow.

"Hey laddie, what say you and I go get ourselves warmed up at the pub down the street? I know the owner, nice fella." Swift started to protest, but remembered his 'modified' ID that Isabelle had ordered for him.

"Sure, why not. It's not like any one'll miss us." That much was true. The unlikely pair walked quickly two blocks south, then ducked into the pub Samuel had described. The air inside was heavy with smoke, irritating Swift's sensitive nose and making his eyes water. Sam ordered a pint for each of them. There were only four others in the bar, a testament to how bad life was if you wound up here on Christmas Day. Swift drowned his pain in alcohol, getting drunk for the first time in his life. All his surroundings: Sam, the warm air of the bar, the garbled grumbling of a barfly near him, the bartender refilling their glasses, blended into a cloud of yellow liquid and acrid smoke.

Swift woke up in an alley behind the bar, with Samuel nowhere in sight. He had a headache the size of Montana, trying to expand its borders out through his eyes.

"Well, that was a mistake." He mumbled, and set about the difficult task of sitting up. Managing that, Swift took stock of his situation.

'I should go back to Fantasies. Isabelle will be back in a couple of days and she won't like it if I'm not around. What am I saying?! Who the hell cares about that awful woman, she treated me like a disposable--' The knot of rage choked off even his thoughts as Swift clenched his handpaws. A colder wind whistling between the buildings helped cool his temper. Somewhat. Eventually, reason took over.

'Well, I did make quite a bit of money. I haven't had to pay for room or board, the company provided that. I've had it with this. I should go back to Altered and get myself reversed.' But that thought staggered him with the wave of pain it brought. He could never go back to being human...this was what he WAS. From the sleek fur to the slinky tail to the golden eyes, Swift had never felt as... right as he did with this body. He shook his head, slowly rising to his feet.

"Maybe one of the Alts from the lounge can give me a place to sleep." Swift thought about it for a while, then trudged slowly to the nearest bus stop, leaving paw-prints in the snow.

Inside Altered States' lounge, a Christmas party was in full swing. A man with reindeer antlers had been decorated with tinsel, and was 'hoofing it' to the tune of Jingle Bell Rock. After a moment of searching the crowd with his eyes, Swift spotted Joe and Rita. Still hulking above the rest of the crowd, Joe was dressed in a red Santa suit and handing out eggnog. Rita was wearing a brief costume consisting of mostly just a leather harness and bells. Swift saw now that short horse-fur fuzzed her body below the neck and above the elbow. It wouldn't show when she was wearing conventional clothes. Swift thought it was cute...but his study was interrupted when Joe spotted him.

"Swift! How ya...um, you alright? You don't look too swift." Rita swatted the bullish young man, who bowed his head sheepishly.

"Sorry, couldn't resist. But seriously, what's wrong?" Swift shrugged, settling down onto an unoccupied couch.

"Long story. I've been working for an escort service since you last saw me, and I just decided to quit today. I've got nowhere to go, so I came here." Rita's soft brown eyes glistened, and she sat down beside the panther.

"Aww, you poor kitty! And on Christmas..." She sniffled, and gave Swift a tight hug, bells jingling. Swift shifted with surprise, but didn't pull away. Joe placed a massive hand on his black-furred shoulder.

"You come stay at my dorm. My roommates won't have a problem with it, and Rita lives in another dorm within walking distance. Have any money?" Swift nodded. "Then why don't you apply at the university? We're real good with equality and stuff. Mostly cause there are so many of us there, anyone who gives an Alt trouble'll be shunned by half the students. Heh, shunned or given a demonstration of what an alt's body is capable of.” He flexed, and actually split the seam of his t-shirt sleeve. “Nothing violent...just things like picking up the cafeteria tables with one hand so I can sweep underneath, y'know. You won't get any shi--" Rita cuffed the larger man forcefully, and Joe bit back the unsavory language. "sorry." He mumbled, and handed Swift an eggnog. Swift sighed and sat back, Rita's arm still around his shoulders. She smelled nice...a bit like hay and a bit like snow and pine trees. Yes, things could work out this way. Joe was smiling knowingly behind his glass. At last! He'd found a nice boyfriend for his cousin.

College life wasn't easy to adapt to, but Swift managed with Rita's help. They were going steady within a month, but the physical part of the relationship never exceeded snuggling.

"I've already been deprived of the gift I would've liked to have given you, and I'll be damned if I'll let you go through what I did. It'll be just as wonderful, if not more, on our wedding night." As Swift put it. The new couple didn't have long to wait.

"Why'd you bring me out to this god forsaken place Swift?" Rita sounded worried as mile after mile of blank countryside sped past. The panther-man just smiled, and kept driving.

"It's a surprise, I told you. Just watch for that road." Ten minutes later, Swift pulled off the side of the road. To Rita's total shock, he got out of the car and started walking away! She undid her seat belt and scurried after him.

"What are you...oh my gosh..." Rita breathed as she joined Swift, looking down over a slight hill in the road. A quiet bed and breakfast lay in a field down below, nestled between a creek and a hill. It was the most delightful place the she'd ever seen! It was so 'quaint,' in fact, that no parking lot was in sight. No wonder Swift had parked where he had. He led her down the hill in the gathering dusk, the last daubs of sunset fading away below the horizon. A wizened old woman dressed in all white met them at the door.

"Mo ore? Yes, I remember you Swift. Come on in, make yourselves comfy. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes." She smiled and hobbled into the kitchen. Rita and Swift stepped inside, and found themselves in a fairy tale. Or that's what Rita first thought. All the furniture was hand crafted; not crude, just simple and elegant. No cheap K-Mart knickknacks sat on the shelves, and no department store carpets covered the floor. It was like stepping back in time...somewhere, a grandfather clock ticked solemnly away. Rita sighed, and leaned on her friend's shoulder.

"This is so perfect dear... How did you find this place?" Swift shrugged, wrapping an arm around the human mare and hugging her.

"A former employee of mine once used this place for a party...or tried to. The couple who own it threw them out when things got out of hand." Swift was grinning at the thought and was about to elaborate on that little humiliation when the woman appeared and beckoned.

"Come on in, the stew will get cold!" She led the couple into the kitchen, where a little table sat before a cozy fire. Two bowls of rich stew and a couple mugs of fresh milk awaited the guests, who took to the food eagerly. A true farm meal, the stew was followed by ham, salad, rolls, and three kinds of pie. To top it all off, spiced tea and coffee served to settle the massive meal. Sighing in deep contentment and feeling more than a little drowsy, Swift and Rita talked with the couple who owned the place. For the first time Swift was among normals who hadn't blanched at first sight of him. It made him feel so good, so accepted...

That night, as the couple was getting ready for bed, Swift sprang his second surprise. While Rita was brushing her hair, (or mane, whatever suits you,) she felt a gentle tugging at the hem of her nightgown. She turned to find Swift down on one knee, his eyes worried, tail flickering across the floor. Something sparkled in his paw, drawing her eyes... Nestled in his furry palm was a gorgeous diamond ring set in silver. Rita gasped, her hairbrush clattering to the wooden floor!

"Rita, will you marry me? I don't want to go on in life without you by my side for good." Swift's golden eyes melted her, as they had many times in the past. She dropped down to his level and caught her panther up in a hug.

"'Course I'll marry you kitty! Oh wow...this is the best..." She sniffled, tears running down her cheeks. Swift softly wiped them away, his face close enough to hers for his whiskers to tickle Rita's nose. At last, the boy who'd been rejected for finding himself, had been truly accepted.. Now, two who truly know themselves face the cold hostile world side by side. Does the world stand a chance?

THE END

(Hi all! Hope you liked the tale. Send any comments, suggestions, or constructive criticism you may have to Animakitty@hotmail.com)