Towards mid-afternoon, Raquel and Jackson returned to their apartment arms loaded with packages and department store bags which they dumped, grateful to be rid of their burdens, onto the sofa in the living room. There they collapsed into separate armchairs and caught their breath.

Jackson commented, astounded at how many shops they'd been to and the subsequent expense. "I will repay you," he said.

"Don't be ridiculous, bunny darling. Call it a gift. Besides, it may be a little premature yet. We don't know how you’re going to scrub up. We might end up returning the lot."

Jackson gave a bemused smile. "You'd like that."

Raquel didn't deny that he would.

Jackson assured Raquel: “This is going to turn out fine, you'll see." He was brimming with enthusiasm for his plan. But Raquel didn't seem convinced.

"Bunny, let's talk some before we go any further into this -"

"No more talking, " he cried. "I'm impatient to get started. C'mon," he said, standing and seizing an arm load of bags and packages and leading the way it to Raquel's bedroom. Reluctantly, his friend followed after him.

Raquel had Jackson strip down to his underwear and, using a couple of rolls of bandages, showed him how to bind his genitals up between his legs. Jackson found it an exceedingly uncomfortable experience.

“You think that’s bad? Oh honey, you haven’t even begun to learn the meaning of pain,” Raquel warned him. “Just wait until you’ve waxed or applied false eyelashes or worn high heels for 12 hours…. Now that’s pain, Jacky!”

Raquel sat him down in front of the dressing table and its large, perfect mirror. Jackson watched intently, committing to memory every move Raquel made and each bit of advice he offered to the youth.

Raquel began with a close shave on the boy, using a straight razor. He told him that he was lucky, as Jackson's whiskers were lightly coloured and extremely soft and sparse. He also remarked that if, or when, he began hormone injections, then the growth rate of his body hair would be halted completely or at the very least slowed dramatically.

When the shave was over, Raquel patted dry Jackson's face and plucked the boy's eyebrows. It was also important to trim any stray nasal hairs that may have been protruding, too.

He applied a foundation all over Jackson's face, blending it into his jaw line.

"You're also very lucky that you don't have a prominent Adam's Apple," Raquel told him. 'That will make this easier."

Once the foundation was applied to Raquel's satisfaction, he set to building onto it with a daytime base. This was followed by a hint of blusher and then eye make up. Due to the youth's pale skin, long dark hair and starling grey eyes, Raquel had a wide selection of colours for the blusher, lip gloss and eye make up to chose from. Raquel chose to settle with soft pinks for the cheekbones, red for the lips and rich, warm crimson for the eyes.

During the application of the make-up, Raquel gave more helpful hints of how to apply it and what bases were best for day and night time use; the colours that the boy should avoid using, although he acknowledged that there weren't many colours that wouldn't suit Jackson.

He took from a box, sitting on the double bed, a wig that they had purchased that morning. It was black and glossy looking, straight and long. He set it on the boy's head, which was already covered in a skull cap.

Jackson stood, now fully dressed and made up, and waited, scarcely able to draw a breath, for Raquel to pass judgement on what they had come up with-

"Well, how do I look?" he asked.

Raquel looked him up and down carefully, and then met his eye. His face showed genuine surprise and pleasure. He broke into a smile.

"Good Lord. How I wish I had your face and figure, Jacky. You're so beautiful. So fabulous, darling - it almost hurts to look at you." he said with a sigh, nodding, tears forming in the comers of his eyes.

"Really?" he asked, turning to look at himself in the mirror.

He saw a wondrous creature with long, dark hair that hung way below her shoulders, dressed in glistening satin calottes of charcoal grey and a white satin blouse; a doll-like face, with large grey eyes, and full, cupid-like lips stared back at him via the mirror; her high cheekbones gave her a feline appearance, alluding to an European heritage. She was, indeed, truly beautiful to behold. The image in the mirror seemed to smile at him. Jackson had to remind himself that it was him.

"God, it's really me ...I look so different, don't I? I do look … beautiful," he concluded, and Raquel had to agree with his summation, stating that he had not seen such loveliness in many years.

“You do look amazing, Jacky,” Raquel admitted somewhat reluctantly. “ But I don't know, I just don't know about this wacko scheme of yours, bunny…," Raquel was shaking his head. "Your voice is all wrong,” he continued. “And your movements give you away – they scream out heterosexual male, believe me!” Raquel lamented. “I just can't see how you'll be able to do this," he said honestly, throwing his hands up in a gesture of despair.

'That's all the stuff you have to teach me, and you will. I'll learn, you'll see, don't worry about it."

"But your voice -" Raquel insisted.

Jackson went to his friend and took hold of his hands in his own, looking imploringly into Raquel’s eyes. “I can do this. You can d o this… Raquel, together we can make this happen. You’ll teach me everything I need to know…”

“Hey bunny, you ain’t no Eliza Doolittle… and I’m sure as hell no Professor Higgins,” Raquel quipped.

Jackson looked at him with a blank expression on his face. “Huh?”

Raquel shrugged and sighed somewhat derisively. “It’s a gay thing, bunny, you wouldn’t understand it… though remind me to hire a copy of ’My Fair Lady’ sometime, ok?”

Jackson chose to ignore Raquel’s flippant tone. "Look, I know you’re worried about how I walk and how I talk and stuff like that, but once I begin the hormone injections, they’ll eventually effect the tone and pitch of my voice, won't they?" he asked, and Raquel nodded.

"Well, until then, there must be some tricks you can teach me to disguise my voice...” Jackson remarked.

"Yes, there are, but Jacky, about those injections -"

"It has to be done," he said firmly, signaling that his mind was made up. But Raquel was not to be so easily dismissed.

"Jacky, let's discuss this plan of yours," Raquel suggested, "Lloyd Crane is a big timer who has been with a lot of women, if half of what you've told me is any indication," Raquel said. "You won't fool him. What if he recognises you?"

"He won't," Jackson said.

"And how can you be so sure?”

"Something you said to me once; that people see what they expect to see. I guess it's like how magicians work - a kind of slight of hand type of thing," he explained to his doubtful looking friend.

"’A kind of slight of hand type of thing’?" Raquel echoed, mortified. "Are you kidding me? What are you going to do with your dick? Put a hankie over it, wave your magic wand and go 'Poof’ -and hope it will simply disappear...?"

"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind… " Jackson replied, growing annoyed with his friend’s attitude.

But Raquel went on: "Exactly what happens when you go about … seducing him," Raquel said, obviously finding that concept both difficult and repulsive to visualise. "God, now there’s an mental image to put you in therapy for ten years! Anyway,” Raquel said with a sigh, returning to his point, “what happens when he starts coming on heavy? We don't live in the good old days anymore, bunny! You can't keep a man like that off you forever. He’s going to want you before, and after, you're wedding night. Now, alright, you can grow tits and get rid of your whiskers and the like, but you can't get rid of what's between your legs, and that's precisely what he's going to find when he goes for the grope, long before the wedding bells chime."

Jackson let Raquel's tirade of facts bounce off him. There was a simple enough answer to that problem. He went to answer, but Raquel cut him off once more.

"No, Jacky, let me finish," he commanded. "Now, let us just suppose that you do get Lloyd Crane wrapped around your little finger; how do you intend to get rid of the current Mrs. Lloyd Crane, hmm?"

"I've already thought about that," he responded, but then paused. He knew he could not tell Raquel the true plan that he had in store for Vanessa Crane. He would have to lie. "I'll force him to divorce her. She won't be any major problem, " he said casually. But in his heart he knew that she had to pay, too, for what she had done to Jackson's mother and for helping his father to murder Scott Hadley.

"I'm going to have an operation," Jackson declared, "and then Lloyd will find exactly what he's looking for between my legs."

Raquel squealed in horror and cried the boy's name out, throwing his hands over his ears, aghast by what he’d just heard. "That's got to be one of the most twisted things I’ve ever heard!” he cried.

Jackson stood there stony faced while Raquel regained his composure. Then Raquel asked him if he realised that the operation he was talking about was irreversible. Jackson said he knew and was unconcerned.

"You're taking the best course to ruining your life, you do realise that, don't you? Is that what you want, bunny, honestly?" he cried angrily.

There was only more icy silence from the beautiful she-male that stood before him.

"What's it all for? A brief moment of triumph - big fucking deal! He's not worth ruining your life over. He's done enough harm to you as it is. I mean, that’s pretty bloody obvious; because what you're talking about is fucking insane!" Raquel said pleading, trying to appeal to the youth's reason.

"I don't want to hear anymore of this shit!" Jackson snapped, loosing some of his poise. "You're either with me or you're not. So what's it to be?" He stood with his hands balled and resting on his hips as he delivered his ultimatum.

Raquel seized on to the last thing that he hoped might bring Jackson back. "And what about Claire?" he asked.

Jackson ignored the question. "With me or against me?"

Raquel bowed his head. It was a sign that he was giving in to him. He nodded unhappily. 'I’m with you, bunny," he said, at last. "But what about Claire?"

Jackson’s stance hardened. He forced the words from his lips. They came out colder than any winter's morning Raquel could recall.

"I'll handle Claire," he replied.