AN: Strictly speaking, although 'genderswap' is the established fandom term for fic of this kind, it isn't especially accurate in this case, as more characters have changed sex than gender, defining 'sex' and 'gender' here as 'biology' and 'identity' respectively. Hence the queer themes 'warning'.

The last two times Robbie had been up here in Sportacus's airship, she'd nearly crashed it. This time, apparently it had been enough to remove all her clothes and curl up in Sportacus's comforter like she belonged there. She did make a nice picture if you ignored that she'd been trying to get him kicked out of LazyTown the last four years, the curved, long-limbed sprawl of her across his bed, covered in the comforter just enough to intrigue but little enough to titillate, unpinned hair curling around a face relaxed in sleep, snoring indelicately and drooling on the pillow just enough to remove all doubt she really had fallen asleep waiting for him.

Why, was the question. If she'd come up to tamper again, then undressing and falling asleep was a very odd way to go about it. The obvious assumption was she'd intended to seduce him, but he had no idea what she thought that might achieve. There was the optimistic idea that she'd decided she wanted him more than she wanted him gone, but that she hadn't even been slightly flirtatious when his memory had been gone, when she'd been trying her best to reshape him into somebody else, rather seemed to disprove that.

This was all rather irrelevant. Even if she wasn't up to no good, it was eight to eight and it would be very difficult to go to bed in sixteen minutes' time if she were still in it.

He knelt beside the bed and shook her shoulder, trying not to enjoy how soft her skin was beneath his fingers. "Robbie, wake up."
She started awake, sitting up and opening her eyes in the same movement, her face brightening suddenly as she spotted him. "Hello Sportacus," she said smugly, shrugging the fold of comforter off her chest.
"Good evening Robbie," Sportacus replied, more aware than he wanted to be of her breasts. They weren't any more than the proverbial handful, even with his small hands, though they seemed to be larger than suggested by the androgynous figure she cut when dressed, and they were ridiculously perky for a woman of her age.
"I think you're over-dressed," she said, and leaned forward, reaching for his crystal case.
Sportacus leaned backwards, still kneeling, out of her reach. "I think you should go home to your own bed. We can talk tomorrow, if you like."
She rolled her eyes. "If you insist," she said, getting out of his bed and standing before him quickly enough that he was left at eye level to the nest of midnight purple curls at her crotch for the second before he pulled himself together and leapt to his feet.
She sighed, and strode past him to the pile of her clothes against the wall on the other side of the bed, bending ostentatiously at the hips with her rear towards him to gather them. It figured she wasn't giving up yet, Sportacus thought.
The ship put the bed away, and he pushed the door open, indicating through with a wave. "The bathroom's through here, on the right."
"Of course it is," she said grumpily, stomping through gracelessly.

Sportacus was halfway through his second apple when she re-emerged, fully-clothed and unhappy-looking, and made a bee-line for the platform.
Sportacus put his apple down on the table. "Will you be all right with the ladder?"
"I got up here, didn't I?"
"You got up here the time you nearly crashed it into Mayor Meanswell's house, and I seem to recall having to lower you back down on a rope."
"You pushed me. I'll be fine if you leave me alone."
"If you insist." He picked his apple back up. "Platform down. Ladder," he commanded the ship, then took another bite.
She scowled up at him from down on the platform, then shakily began climbing. He watched, concerned. The airship was quite low, but she could still hurt herself if she fell. She reached the ground safely, however, just as Sportacus's inner clock informed him it was now 8:08, time for bed.

"Mayor?"
Mayor Meanswell peeked out from behind the sheet she was pegging out, and smiled. "Hello Sportacus."
"Have you seen Pixelle? I wanted to talk to her."
"I think Stevie and the girls are in the tree house. Something about a 'no boys' club. Stevie was a bit upset, so they made him an honorary girl." She shook her head and smiled.
Sportacus shook his own head, wondering if she'd ever see the obvious about the child, and headed off to the tree house.

"Hello girls," Sportacus said, pulling himself through the tree house's hatch.
"Sportacus!" Stevie squealed, latching onto him. He hugged back, squeezing her shoulders for a moment, and letting go.
"Can I borrow Pixelle for a bit? I need a word."
"No. She's mine," Penny informed him, grabbing her sleeve.
"Pe-enny!" Stevie, Pixelle and Candy chorused.
Pixelle untangled herself and followed him down the ladder.
"What's up, Sportacus?"
"Have you invented anything that can affect the personality or emotions recently?"
Pixelle looked startled. "Why?" she asked.
"Robbie was acting oddly last night. I was just wondering."
"I ... Yeah." She pulled a silvery remote control from her trousers pocket.
"What exactly does that do?"
"It, um ... makes a person like another person more."
"And you used it on Robbie?"
"I thought if she didn't hate you so much she wouldn't keep trying to make you go away. What did she do?"
"When I went to go to bed last night she was already in it."
"Damn," she said, then clamped a hand over her mouth. "That's not supposed to happen," she added apologetically. "Good thing I didn't try improving her attitude to Stevie first. He's a bit young for her."
"Pixelle, I know your intentions were good, but altering someone's mind is not the way to solve a conflict, even without the unintended effects. Can you fix it?"
Pixelle shook her head. "It might wear off, but it can't be undone."
"Oh dear. You understand I have to tell her?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't think ... " Pixelle said.
"I know," Sportacus said, bending to give her a quick hug.

Robbie was sitting bolt-upright in her orange recliner by the time Sportacus finished explaining. "The brat has been messing with my brain?"
Sportacus nodded.
Robbie crossed her arms. "This doesn't feel fake."
"She created a remote control capable of controlling people once, and that was when she was a little girl."
"Good point. Are you going to undo it now?" she asked.
"She says it can't be fixed, though it might wear off."
"It can't be fixed at all?" she asked, sounding vulnerable.
Sportacus shook his head regretfully.
"Oh, thank goodness," Robbie said, slouching back down in her chair.
"What?"
"I hadn't realised before what a disgraceful amount of effort I put into hating you." She paused. "So is this the 'talk tomorrow' you promised last night?"
He stared at her disbelievingly. "Robbie, your mind's been altered. You didn't want that before."
"Sure I did," she said lazily. "I just wanted you to go away more, and I really didn't want to give you another reason to stay."
"Seriously, Robbie. You're not thinking about me the same way you were. Even if you were attracted to me before you obviously didn't act on it, even when you had opportunities to. I can't possibly accept your consent as valid under the circumstances."
"Did you miss that you told me I'm probably stuck like this? That I told you it doesn't feel fake? I'm not under a love spell, I'm not in love at all. I just find you just as hot as I did but less annoying." She stood suddenly, striding the few steps over to him. "Just because my decisions aren't the ones I would have made before, doesn't mean they aren't mine."
Sportacus looked up into her face, seeing the determination in her purple-shadowed grey eyes. "There's just one other thing ..."

fin