Chap 6

"All you shits freeze! Hands in the air!"

After a half second of old electric chair nightmares flooding through my head I swiftly tossed the knife into a nearby rubbish bin before lifting my hands in the air like my six pursuers. Their bodies thankfully blocked the cops from seeing my knife throw but after a few of the were put in handcuffs it wasn't long before all attention was back on me. The black cop was avoiding looking at me for some reason as he walked towards me. I had to remind myself repeatedly that these cops were my saviors to keep from bolting. I was still so far in kill mode that a large part of me was still worried they'd cuff me for murder any second but I had to admit that being a short female in this situation was a bonus.

It was hard to tell with his dark skin but it sort of looked like he was blushing for some reason. "Err, lady, you can put your hands down." I obeyed, and he seemed much less shy once the breasts I'd forgotten I had were covered. Well, covered as much my skinny arms could manage. He still seemed a bit wary of them as he ushered me towards the patrol van. 'These melons are powerful, aren't they,' I thought to myself.

My protector handed me a large paper bag from the passenger seat. 'Shaqueel's Kicka*s Donuts' was emblazoned on the side. Looking way up at the 6'4" man I tilted my head askance. "It's so you can cover up," he explained. I was a little upset at the intimation that I was unsightly but I had to admit that it was a practical solution to my toplessness. I sniffed it to make sure it was clean - a hint of cinnamon but otherwise fine - before holding it to my chest.

As he went back to the difficult task of shoving six tattooed latino men I stared at the paper bag, thoughts churning. I could do better than this. Some had called me a genius at blood spatter and in my opinion I could have been a nuclear physicist if not for my Dark Passenger. Making clothing that didn't require hands to keep it up was well within my capabilities.

A little tear and the extra-large bag that must have held dozens of donuts and other tasty morsels became a six-inch brown strip. Facing away from the men I slipped my arms through the paper hoop and carefully moved it down my body. I got it past my now slim shoulders easily enough but my chest cannons were very nearly a sticking point. With a little shimmying I got it in place but I'd have to remember not to breathe deeply for a while.

The Italian cop was looking at me funny but it didn't feel like a "you're the scum of humanity you terrible serial killer" look so I ignored it. I wondered if he knew that mustache and greasy comb over made him look like a pedophile. The black one returned, a much better face to look at than creepy pedo. "Ah, good, you're clothed again," he said. "My name's Carl, what's yours."

What was it I said before? Oh, right. "It's Dee."

"Dee…" He pulled out the car radio. "Dispatch, I think I found that girl Doakes was looking for." 'Kittens! Why is he looking for me?' "Pink hair though, not blue."

'?' Pulling a few strands in front of my face I noted with dulled shock that they were indeed pink. "It used to be blue," I said dreamily. Compared to a gender and possibly mass change (assuming it didn't all just go to my bosom and butt) a hair change was relatively minor. Actually, didn't it start out purple?

"She says it used to be blue."

The radio crackled. "Keep her there for a bit, someone's coming to pick her up."

"One mystery solved," said Carl. "Did you want to sit up front while you wait? It's got A/C."

I took another look at the creepy pedo cop in the driver's seat. "Nope, I'm like, A-okay out here." At least I would be until Doakes got here and totally ruined my mellow. He was probably like twenty minutes out if he was coming from my house. Probably went back there to stalk me some more and noticed the car missing.

"We'll need a statement from you but you can do that at the station if you prefer."

"Might as well do it there," I replied. Doakes wouldn't let me out of his sight a second time. He was so annoying, always calling me names and treating me like a criminal when I hadn't even done anything except bring donuts and do my job - well, at least so far as he knew. Stupid stalker-man.

I found myself wishing I had some bubblegum if only to pass the time. It wasn't long though before my ride showed up but it wasn't who I expected. She rolled down her window slowly and it felt like the gates of hell were opening.

"Deb, I can explai-"

"Get in."

Meekly I did, the door of her beat-up old car creaking and wheezing. She rebuffed Carl's attempts at pleasantries and drove off, engine rumbling. The A/C was giving me goosebumps thanks to my inadequate top but I didn't dare play with the controls. Likewise I was too intimidated by my little sister to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence. That in itself was weird because normally even when she was at her bitchiest and probably on the rag I had no trouble needling her with some offhand comment or another.

There was just this aura about her now though that made her seem in control and mature. Was this the effect of working in Homicide? Back in Vice she'd always been such an adorable little screw-up - no offense intended. Now though it was like she was all grown up for the very first time. She actually felt like a big sister, one that should be obeyed and not disappointed except when playing pranks on her. Her bust was pitifully small in comparison though so I was the bigger sibling in that at least.

She broke the silence when we got stuck at a stoplight. "Dex what the hell were you thinking! Twice in one day you get picked up by the police and this time you almost…" I flinched and sent my chest jiggling as she slapped the steering wheel suddenly. "Explain to me what was going through your mind."

Normally this would be where I deflected and obliquely told her to stay out of my personal business but I felt compelled to respond to her question. Obviously I censored the bit about Jimmy Sensio but other than I tried to be as truthful as possible. "Well, first I tripped in a puddle and turned like this, y'know? And my shirt got all icky so I had to take it off. Took my shoes off too cuz they were all big and trippy. Then I walked up the beach a ways until the boardwalk and a lotta people stared at me. I was gonna buy a new top but some guys were following me so I ran into an alley but it was a dead end and then the cops showed up."

I always liked telling the truth like this. Was a nice change from hiding who I was all the time. Admittedly I still had to omit my plans to shank them all with a pocketknife but it was still nice to share all that. Frankly the experience had been a bit scary at times which was something I wasn't used to. Emotions were neat but a little overwhelming. I was being silly saying anything bad about them though after wishing for them for so long. Ungrateful even, though the whole turning into a girl thing was uber weird.

I glanced at Debra and froze. The light had turned green but she wasn't moving. She just… sat there, staring at me. There was a look on her face that I couldn't decipher. Brrrr, gave me the shivers though.

"Are you thinking at all? Is there any thoughts floating around under that stupid pink hair?" I covered my head protectively as she started poking my forehead. "Is my big brother Dex in there or is it all just Dee. Christ, forget pretending to be eighteen; I should send you back to elementary school so you can learn some fucking common sense!"

"I'm not stupid!" I was out of the car in a flash, desperate to escape the feeling that I was being attacked. Accidentally forgetting to buckle my seatbelt helped my speed but the mistake didn't make me feel any better. Neither did my makeshift paper top tearing apart two steps later. In seconds I came to an abrupt halt, arms wrapped around my breasts as hot tears built rivers down my cheeks.

I didn't know where to go or what to do. I was in the middle of nowhere with no phone or even shoes. On top of that I couldn't even breathe properly because my body kept making stupid sobbing noises. "I'm not *hic* stupid. Stop *hic* calling me *hic* Dee."

"Get back in the car," said Deb. "Dammit Dexter, please get back in the car. I'm sorry I said you were stupid."

"You're really *hic* sorry?"

Deb leaned over to push the passenger's side door open a little further. "Agh, yes. I didn't mean it so please get back inside."

The cars beeping and swerving around Aunt Deb's car were embarrassing her and it felt wrong to embarrass her on my account. Reluctantly I retook my seat, Deb strapping me in since my arms were busy keeping my breasts covered. With that done we were off.

"Are we going home now?" I asked after a time.

"No, I'm taking you to a wig store. Your hair changed color again."

This was normally where I'd try and excuse myself from whatever activity she was trying to rope me into and then go plan a kill but for some reason I didn't feel like arguing. I did shake my head for other reasons though, hair falling into my field of vision. Red and indigo stripes. "Neat."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you Dexter. I just don't think you realize yet what could have happened to you." She paused, slipping into the slow lane so she could concentrate on speaking. "The stuff that happened to me with the Ice Truck Killer… It, it doesn't normally involve a serial killer but…" She paused again. "I guess what I'm saying is that bad things happen to girls all the time, even those of us who have had years of experience to get ready for it. I'm going to get you some pepper spray and into some women's self-defense courses and but until then if you turn into a girl again please call me, okay?"

I squirmed a bit as she spoke, not really wanting to hear any of it. On the one hand I'd spent my life hunting killers, some of whom had done very bad things outside of murder as well, but I wasn't liking this new and less clinical perspective.

Not knowing what to say I just said what I felt. "Umm, do you mind if I put my arms down Aunt Deb? They're getting tired and since you're a girl and all…"

"What did you just say?"

"I asked if-"

"Never mind. I thought you might have called me… never mind. Go ahead and let those balloons fly free for now. I guess I'll buy you a couple shirts too."

"And shoes?"

"Don't get carried away," she replied. "You better not be turning into a girly girl because I don't do shopping montages."

"I'm not a girly girl," I huffed. "I'm a man. A big strong man."

"Course you are."

I smiled, glad she believed in me.