Tuesday Morning 5/16 [Bodyswap]
Even in the split seconds before she opened her eyes, Max knew something was different.
It wasn't just the bed, though yes, that was different, but She felt different, somehow. There were odd sensations she wasn't used to feeling. And there was someone in the bed beside her, a naked man, with a certain part of his anatomy nudging against her. Oh, shit.
Her eyes blinked open, and she found herself looking into Ben's face.
"What the Fuck!?" She was dragging the covers up against herself and scootching backwards even as the words left her lips. Her voice sounded strange. Everything about herself felt strange. She looked down at her hands, and saw that they were masculine, and most definitely not her own.
Emma's eyes split open blearily. For all of a second. Before a very male voice penetrated her consciousness. "What the fuck yourself!" She half tumbled, half leapt from the bed butt naked. Glaring in accusation at the small man in the...completely unknown bed. A hand pinched the bridge of her nose as she muttered. "Don't tell me I went on a bender. The absolute last thing I need is drunken night out and some sorry piece of ass in...why is my voice so deep?"
"Piece of ass!?" Max exclaimed, outraged and confused. "What the fuck happened last night, Ben?"
Max hesitantly dropped the sheet, stared down at herself. This was most definately not her body. "...You are Ben, right?"
Emma dropped her eyes with the sheet, eyebrows raised appreciatively. "Well, piece of -something- that's for sure." She murmured to herself. The eyes shot back up to the face of the smaller man. "Ben?" she asked quizzically. He was shorter. Much shorter than any man had a right to be next to her really. Well, next to Tim. One could hardly call him a man though. "Who the sodding hell is Ben?" She looked down.
Male. Very, very male and naked and- "What the fuck?!"
"You're not Ben, anymore than I'm..." Max caught sight of herself in the mirror. Except she wasn't herself... Michael's reflection stared back at her. "...Than I'm Michael, are you?"
"Really not," came the half whispered reply as a startled Emma turned and ran for the nearest door. Which was a closet. "Sodding Hell! Where's the bathroom in this place?" She tried the opposite door.
"Ah.." She barreled in, stopping at the mirror."Sweet Mother of God....I'm ripped." I'm Ben.
'Sodding Hell?' Max only knew one person who spoke like that. "...Emma?"
"Frost. Or Ben Bruckner apparently." A pause came from the bathroom as Emma pulled down on the skin of her- his, no -her- face with her hands. "Who in the Hell are you?"
"It's me, Whitebread... Max. Ghetto. Your roomie." There was a pause, and then, in an utterly baffled tone, added, "What the hell happened to us?"
Emma paused, mouth open and cheeks pulled down. "Max?" The head poked back out the bathroom door. "What in th- What are you doing here? In there.." A hand gestured vaguely at the still rather naked male body.The head dissapeared back inside the bathroom. "Someone's obviously on heavy drugs." Came the muttered comment. Then after a beat. "This had better bloody well not be another BLOODY CUBE THING"
Max wrapped the bedsheet around her his? body in an oddly selfconscious gesture. "I could ask you the same thing, Whitebread. Okay. So... Which of us is on drugs?" Max wondered, "Tell me this is all just some fucked up dream?"
"Umm.." the reply, when it came, was significantly subdued. Emma had opened the medicine cabinet to check for some form of explanation and she'd found... "Max?" she said weakly. Emma held a small amber pill bottle in one hand, deciphering the alphabet soup on the prescription label. She recognised this stuff. Knew what it was for.
"...Yeah?" Max asked, she approached the bathroom door, the sheet trailing on the floor behind her, "What's that?"
"Trivizir3. AZT, 3TC...it's a retroviral." She looked up from the bottle, meeting a pair of brown eyes. "HIV medication." She let the words hang in the air for a moment, they seemed to ring tinny in her ears. "Ben's name is on the label."
"Oh." Max frowned, worried, "Uh... Maybe you should take them?" There was a slight pause, and she gestured vaguely toward the man standing before her, "Given the givens..."
A snort escaped her. "Given that I seem to be in a body with HIV?" An eyebrow tilted. "We can say it." Emma opened the medicine cabinet displaying the other assorted pill bottles to Max. "I haven't the foggiest clue what his regime is..." Emma trailed off. "Really," she said quietly. "You'd think a girl would at least get to have sex first."
Michael's eyebrow arched in a gesture distinctly reminiscent of Max. Emma had never had sex?
"Well... If we're here... In their bodies... In their house... They must be in our bodies... In our house, right?" Max theorised, "So... if we call our house..."
Emma looked slightly stunned. "I keep my mobile by my bed. Ring it."
Max found a phone and punched in Emma's number from memory, putting the phone to her ear, she listened to it ring, when the other end picked up she heard Emma's voice on the line. "Hi, Yeah, this is Max. Seems we've got a problem..."
Whilst Max was on the phone, Emma looked at the mirror, pulling faces in it as she half listened to Max on the phone. This was...different. Her analytical mind took over as she shoved the stress away. Tensing her lower jaw, she grimaced. The muscles seemed to react normally. Hand's that felt like her own drew down on her cheeks. Sensation was the same as one would expect and there was no disconnection from the body's functions so far as she could tell.
Half distracted by the sounds of Max in the other room and her own experimentation, the realisation was slow in coming to Emma. She was hearing Max. But she was -only- hearing Max. There was no sense of presence.
Tensing at the inherent implication, she leant against the sink, head bent as her breathing focused inwards. Her eyes closed and she followed the count of breath inward. Inward... Still-sodding-inward.
Her head shot up, out of place blue eyes looking back at her. "Nothing," Emma breathed. She was lame. Wrapped up in her own skull for the first truely in years. "Genetics, dammit all to hell." Strange blue eyes blinked in suprise. "Max. Michael. Ben." If she was in his body and locked up tight then... Her breathing was anything but calm now. Losing the death grip she had on the porcelain, Emma hurried to the door. Standing in the small hallway she gestured frantically to Max. As she caught her eye, she mouthed. "Genetics".
Met with a look of blank incomprehension, she decided to dumb it down for her. Emma punched the wall next to her. Hard. "OW!" She shook out her fist. "That bloody well hurt."
Still on the phone, Max stared at Ben-Emma like she was crazy for a moment... No bling. she realised finally figuring out what the word Emma had mouthed at her was. 'Genetics.'
Oh, crap.
If Max had Michael's body, and he had hers, then that meant he had her abilities, and her problems. She wondered how long it would take Michael to figure out that he wasn't exactly a normal girl. And Ben-Emma wasn't the only one who needed to take drugs, Max had to get Michael to take a dose of tryp.
"You guys need to stay where you are, we'll come to you," Max said into the phone, "We need to talk in person - and maybe... Maybe if we touch, we'll switch back into our own bodies... Can't hurt to try, right?" Max theorised, a slight edge of desperation to her tone. "Besides... There are people outside, lots of people, and... Trust me, you just don't wanna go out there without some kinda mental shielding in place, Ben."
Emma was glad Max was such a quick study. Still shaking out her hand she looked over to her roomie. "We need to be there, five minutes ago." She hesitated. "But first? Clothes, I think." Emma walked into the room, pulling open the closet and going diving for fashion. "Ugh..." Came the disgusted mutter from the depths. "I thought Ben was gay?"
"Uh, one last thing... Where do you guys live?" Max asked, trying to get her bearings, "Okay, stay put, we'll be there in half an hour."
She ended the call.
"Ha!" Emma exited the wardrobe victoriously, clothing in hand. "Perfect. Well. Almost. It's not white...still, beggars and all that." She paused, foot halfway down the leg of a pair of tight brown leather pants. "Max? Clothing. You have a very cute arse, but I'm not sure it's owner would appreciate you swanning about with it uncovered."
Max tossed Emma an irritated look, then wandered into the bathroom, and stood at the sink. She decided to forego a shower, for the moment at least - washing Michael's body seemed like an uncomfortably intimate gesture. Anyway, she reasoned, his body seemed clean enough, and they were in a rush. She used a washcloth to briskly clean up a bit, put on some deoderant, then padded back into the bedroom to find something to wear.
Her inspection of the closet was brief and not picky. She found a pair of jeans which were kinda baggy, a blue t-shirt, and a dark green shirt. Pawing through a chest of drawers, she found socks, and a pair undies featuring a motif of a cartoon character evidently called 'Captain Astro.'
She quirked an eyebrow then shrugged and grabbed them.
Max dressed efficiently, her hands business-like as she pulled on the underwear and adjusted the equipment, following the undies with the jeans, then the t-shirt, and finally the shirt, which she threw on unbuttoned, over the tee. Perching on the edge of the bed, she tugged on the socks, followed by a pair of sneakers, then she stood up, ready to go.
Emma finished lacing the boots she'd found and stood. A tight white shirt stretched across the muscular frame of Ben's body. "I'll give the boys one thing," She quirked an eyebrow at Max, hands resting on the low riding waist of the leather pants. "No bra. Definite improvement. Incidentally, how are we getting to our place?"
"There's an El stop not far from here," Max remarked, as she flipped open the wallet she found on the nightstand, glancing at the ID inside, confirming that it was Michaels, and taking a peek at the bills - just to make sure they'd have enough money to their place. Picking up the set of keys and a cell phone which were sitting on the nightstand, she tucked them into the pockets of her jeans. "You ready to go?"
She paused. "Almost." Emma turned, grabbing a backpack that hung from the wardrobe door. She slipped into the bathroom, dumping Ben's collection of medication into the bag. "He's a teacher, he -could- be more organised really." Ben's wallet sat by the vanity. She grabbed that too, for good measure. "Good to go."
It wasn't just the bed, though yes, that was different, but She felt different, somehow. There were odd sensations she wasn't used to feeling. And there was someone in the bed beside her, a naked man, with a certain part of his anatomy nudging against her. Oh, shit.
Her eyes blinked open, and she found herself looking into Ben's face.
"What the Fuck!?" She was dragging the covers up against herself and scootching backwards even as the words left her lips. Her voice sounded strange. Everything about herself felt strange. She looked down at her hands, and saw that they were masculine, and most definitely not her own.
Emma's eyes split open blearily. For all of a second. Before a very male voice penetrated her consciousness. "What the fuck yourself!" She half tumbled, half leapt from the bed butt naked. Glaring in accusation at the small man in the...completely unknown bed. A hand pinched the bridge of her nose as she muttered. "Don't tell me I went on a bender. The absolute last thing I need is drunken night out and some sorry piece of ass in...why is my voice so deep?"
"Piece of ass!?" Max exclaimed, outraged and confused. "What the fuck happened last night, Ben?"
Max hesitantly dropped the sheet, stared down at herself. This was most definately not her body. "...You are Ben, right?"
Emma dropped her eyes with the sheet, eyebrows raised appreciatively. "Well, piece of -something- that's for sure." She murmured to herself. The eyes shot back up to the face of the smaller man. "Ben?" she asked quizzically. He was shorter. Much shorter than any man had a right to be next to her really. Well, next to Tim. One could hardly call him a man though. "Who the sodding hell is Ben?" She looked down.
Male. Very, very male and naked and- "What the fuck?!"
"You're not Ben, anymore than I'm..." Max caught sight of herself in the mirror. Except she wasn't herself... Michael's reflection stared back at her. "...Than I'm Michael, are you?"
"Really not," came the half whispered reply as a startled Emma turned and ran for the nearest door. Which was a closet. "Sodding Hell! Where's the bathroom in this place?" She tried the opposite door.
"Ah.." She barreled in, stopping at the mirror."Sweet Mother of God....I'm ripped." I'm Ben.
'Sodding Hell?' Max only knew one person who spoke like that. "...Emma?"
"Frost. Or Ben Bruckner apparently." A pause came from the bathroom as Emma pulled down on the skin of her- his, no -her- face with her hands. "Who in the Hell are you?"
"It's me, Whitebread... Max. Ghetto. Your roomie." There was a pause, and then, in an utterly baffled tone, added, "What the hell happened to us?"
Emma paused, mouth open and cheeks pulled down. "Max?" The head poked back out the bathroom door. "What in th- What are you doing here? In there.." A hand gestured vaguely at the still rather naked male body.The head dissapeared back inside the bathroom. "Someone's obviously on heavy drugs." Came the muttered comment. Then after a beat. "This had better bloody well not be another BLOODY CUBE THING"
Max wrapped the bedsheet around her his? body in an oddly selfconscious gesture. "I could ask you the same thing, Whitebread. Okay. So... Which of us is on drugs?" Max wondered, "Tell me this is all just some fucked up dream?"
"Umm.." the reply, when it came, was significantly subdued. Emma had opened the medicine cabinet to check for some form of explanation and she'd found... "Max?" she said weakly. Emma held a small amber pill bottle in one hand, deciphering the alphabet soup on the prescription label. She recognised this stuff. Knew what it was for.
"...Yeah?" Max asked, she approached the bathroom door, the sheet trailing on the floor behind her, "What's that?"
"Trivizir3. AZT, 3TC...it's a retroviral." She looked up from the bottle, meeting a pair of brown eyes. "HIV medication." She let the words hang in the air for a moment, they seemed to ring tinny in her ears. "Ben's name is on the label."
"Oh." Max frowned, worried, "Uh... Maybe you should take them?" There was a slight pause, and she gestured vaguely toward the man standing before her, "Given the givens..."
A snort escaped her. "Given that I seem to be in a body with HIV?" An eyebrow tilted. "We can say it." Emma opened the medicine cabinet displaying the other assorted pill bottles to Max. "I haven't the foggiest clue what his regime is..." Emma trailed off. "Really," she said quietly. "You'd think a girl would at least get to have sex first."
Michael's eyebrow arched in a gesture distinctly reminiscent of Max. Emma had never had sex?
"Well... If we're here... In their bodies... In their house... They must be in our bodies... In our house, right?" Max theorised, "So... if we call our house..."
Emma looked slightly stunned. "I keep my mobile by my bed. Ring it."
Max found a phone and punched in Emma's number from memory, putting the phone to her ear, she listened to it ring, when the other end picked up she heard Emma's voice on the line. "Hi, Yeah, this is Max. Seems we've got a problem..."
Whilst Max was on the phone, Emma looked at the mirror, pulling faces in it as she half listened to Max on the phone. This was...different. Her analytical mind took over as she shoved the stress away. Tensing her lower jaw, she grimaced. The muscles seemed to react normally. Hand's that felt like her own drew down on her cheeks. Sensation was the same as one would expect and there was no disconnection from the body's functions so far as she could tell.
Half distracted by the sounds of Max in the other room and her own experimentation, the realisation was slow in coming to Emma. She was hearing Max. But she was -only- hearing Max. There was no sense of presence.
Tensing at the inherent implication, she leant against the sink, head bent as her breathing focused inwards. Her eyes closed and she followed the count of breath inward. Inward... Still-sodding-inward.
Her head shot up, out of place blue eyes looking back at her. "Nothing," Emma breathed. She was lame. Wrapped up in her own skull for the first truely in years. "Genetics, dammit all to hell." Strange blue eyes blinked in suprise. "Max. Michael. Ben." If she was in his body and locked up tight then... Her breathing was anything but calm now. Losing the death grip she had on the porcelain, Emma hurried to the door. Standing in the small hallway she gestured frantically to Max. As she caught her eye, she mouthed. "Genetics".
Met with a look of blank incomprehension, she decided to dumb it down for her. Emma punched the wall next to her. Hard. "OW!" She shook out her fist. "That bloody well hurt."
Still on the phone, Max stared at Ben-Emma like she was crazy for a moment... No bling. she realised finally figuring out what the word Emma had mouthed at her was. 'Genetics.'
Oh, crap.
If Max had Michael's body, and he had hers, then that meant he had her abilities, and her problems. She wondered how long it would take Michael to figure out that he wasn't exactly a normal girl. And Ben-Emma wasn't the only one who needed to take drugs, Max had to get Michael to take a dose of tryp.
"You guys need to stay where you are, we'll come to you," Max said into the phone, "We need to talk in person - and maybe... Maybe if we touch, we'll switch back into our own bodies... Can't hurt to try, right?" Max theorised, a slight edge of desperation to her tone. "Besides... There are people outside, lots of people, and... Trust me, you just don't wanna go out there without some kinda mental shielding in place, Ben."
Emma was glad Max was such a quick study. Still shaking out her hand she looked over to her roomie. "We need to be there, five minutes ago." She hesitated. "But first? Clothes, I think." Emma walked into the room, pulling open the closet and going diving for fashion. "Ugh..." Came the disgusted mutter from the depths. "I thought Ben was gay?"
"Uh, one last thing... Where do you guys live?" Max asked, trying to get her bearings, "Okay, stay put, we'll be there in half an hour."
She ended the call.
"Ha!" Emma exited the wardrobe victoriously, clothing in hand. "Perfect. Well. Almost. It's not white...still, beggars and all that." She paused, foot halfway down the leg of a pair of tight brown leather pants. "Max? Clothing. You have a very cute arse, but I'm not sure it's owner would appreciate you swanning about with it uncovered."
Max tossed Emma an irritated look, then wandered into the bathroom, and stood at the sink. She decided to forego a shower, for the moment at least - washing Michael's body seemed like an uncomfortably intimate gesture. Anyway, she reasoned, his body seemed clean enough, and they were in a rush. She used a washcloth to briskly clean up a bit, put on some deoderant, then padded back into the bedroom to find something to wear.
Her inspection of the closet was brief and not picky. She found a pair of jeans which were kinda baggy, a blue t-shirt, and a dark green shirt. Pawing through a chest of drawers, she found socks, and a pair undies featuring a motif of a cartoon character evidently called 'Captain Astro.'
She quirked an eyebrow then shrugged and grabbed them.
Max dressed efficiently, her hands business-like as she pulled on the underwear and adjusted the equipment, following the undies with the jeans, then the t-shirt, and finally the shirt, which she threw on unbuttoned, over the tee. Perching on the edge of the bed, she tugged on the socks, followed by a pair of sneakers, then she stood up, ready to go.
Emma finished lacing the boots she'd found and stood. A tight white shirt stretched across the muscular frame of Ben's body. "I'll give the boys one thing," She quirked an eyebrow at Max, hands resting on the low riding waist of the leather pants. "No bra. Definite improvement. Incidentally, how are we getting to our place?"
"There's an El stop not far from here," Max remarked, as she flipped open the wallet she found on the nightstand, glancing at the ID inside, confirming that it was Michaels, and taking a peek at the bills - just to make sure they'd have enough money to their place. Picking up the set of keys and a cell phone which were sitting on the nightstand, she tucked them into the pockets of her jeans. "You ready to go?"
She paused. "Almost." Emma turned, grabbing a backpack that hung from the wardrobe door. She slipped into the bathroom, dumping Ben's collection of medication into the bag. "He's a teacher, he -could- be more organised really." Ben's wallet sat by the vanity. She grabbed that too, for good measure. "Good to go."