The jet black UND-OP cars pulled up to the house on Long st. It was 4:57 am. Roy yawned. Detective Jeffery Kovech pinched himself trying to stay on top. He had not accounted for how horny skipping sleep made him.

Looking around, the swat team looked tense. They didn't do this too often, and not to young white women (at least not on purpose, there was that one oopsie in '14, but that was ages ago.) Plus, they had all seen the pictures of Remmy Jones. The SWAT team leaders had literally drawn straws on who was going to take the operation.

The house was squatted without a permit. No need to notify any landlord, or file anything with the courts. A perfect operation.

They all watched in anticipation as the clock ticked ever forward. 5am was go time on the no-knock raid. This 'Circe' wouldn't know what hit her.

~~+-0-+~~

Circe shot bolt upright in bed. Something was wrong. Her unbody tingled in the back of her consciousness, sending strange unintelligible signals through her neural interface. It was dark, but the streetlight illuminated Brie's room.

Brie, now drowning in her fuzzy onsie, held tight to Circe's arm. One of her breasts lolled out from the neck giving her a cute sleepy slob sort of look. Her weight was attempting to drag Circe back to warm post-coital sleep..

As Circe extracted an arm from her lover's grasp, the girl whined in her sleep. Fuck. She really slept with a band mate, huh? This made things... complicated. How much was this real? Brie worshiped her like a Goddess. If she had figured her shit out the normal way, (she was petty close!) how attracted would Brie to her? She had been aging like a man in the 19th century. Medical transition would have been hard, and she'd probably not pass for years.

Another wave of primal disquiet. Circe shuddered. She didn't have time for this whiny phenomenological bullshit.

She leaped out of bed. The overalls, a bra and her suit jacket were in her hands with a thought. Dressing as she traveled down the stairs, she wondered what was driving her unbody nuts.

~~+-0-+~~

Diana woke up to her 5am alarm with a smile. She was a woman! She had her shop back! It had only been out of her hands for 10 hours, but that time had felt like a massive piece had been ripped from her. Never again.

Those cops had really given her the run around. They were really nothing like the old cops of her youth. Chastened by civil rights, but still doing the good parts of their job. She got up and started the coffee machine in her kitchenette.

Then again...

She leaned against the counter as her coffee percolated.

Then again, Sarah told him... her about the raids on the gay clubs in San Pablo, the "Go back to the Castro and get AIDS" sprayed over the queer youth center in the 80's. The cops did nothing then too. The way that cop, Roy, had laughed in her face for claiming womanhood. The way the other more 'sympathetic' cop had flinched away from confrontation.

It was funny the way having your neck on the chopping block changed things.

~~+-0-+~~

It was go time.

The SWAT team poured out of the UND-OP cars like a swarm of hornets. Patrol cars screamed into place blocking in the street off from both sides. Kovech and Roy stood with the SWAT captain, as the black clad armed men ran to the target door.

The house was an older Vicorian with cracked blue paint that had been raised several times before being abandoned during the hard 90's. As far as a cursory search from Kovech could tell, it had been continuously squatted since '97 by various groups.

All he needed to know was that it was now being used to hide a suspected murderer from questioning. The SWAT door ram was deployed. That door looked original, probably carved redwood from a thousand year old tree. The team swung forward and hit the door with bang that rang out into the quiet morning. What can you do? Bang. Bang. The door splintered, lock sheering off into unusability.

Kovech turned away. He could never watch what usually happened next. It always brought him back to that field outside De Anza high.

His service weapon was still in his shoulder holster.

He felt the cold stainless steel resting on his trigger finger.

The kid was right in front of him.

There was shouting behind him.

His finger twitched into air.

Gunshots rang out through the cold morning streets.

He stared out at the early light of dawn.

The door to his corruption had been shut.

~~+-0-+~~

Circe started putting on her suit jacket in the living room. She nervously glanced at the hole she had cut in the second floor two days ago. They had patched the roof but there were still two clean holes going up to it. She idly wondered how you fixed-

There was a loud whomp, and the front door crunched.

She looked over in the twilight at the door. Jack dick in the morning was not exactly a usual time for doors to make crunching sounds. Her thought process was interrupted by even louder noise as the cheap lock sheared out of the front door as it was forced open by four guys in SWAT gear.

Circe stared at the men as they raised their weapons and began shouting at her.

She was off the train to get food in Grand Junction, CO and a cop was shouting at her.

The blood pounded in her ears, she couldn't parse their instructions.

Guns in her face.

The podunk cop was raising his sidearm.

She was running for her life to gunshots.

She stared down the barrels of the SWAT team, uncomprehending.

Unthinking, she stepped backward. More shouting, the guns grow agitated.

Circe was frozen like a bunny in the jaws of a wolf. She stepped back again, involuntary. A man full of fear and cowboy glory, took that as the signal to shoot.

As the muzzle flashes, Circe's unbody takes the time to alter her brain chemistry again. The fear is gone, that night in Grand Junction is gone. Circe is the closest a woman can be to a god.

Bullets mean nothing. Police mean nothing. The laws of this land mean nothing.

There was a breeze and a clink as the brass hollow point bullet fell from the air, momentum extinguished. The bullet rolled on the hardwood floor back towards the fire team, watched by all.

Circe smiled and began walking forward. The change in her countenance obvious. The SWAT team opened fire. Shells and bullets rained down, equally useless. The wind howled as it forced the redirected kinetic energy of the projectiles out of the house. The fire team moved backward to avoid the wind and tactically disengage.

It was time for Circe to assert herself.

~~+-0-+~~

Diana poured the coffee, basking in its nutty dark roast smell. The steam of the hot water clearing her sinuses, she leaned back. What do I have to do today? What am I going to do today?

She poured some Straus Dairy half and half into her coffee. What was she going to say to Sarah?

Diana pictured it in her mind. There she is, in that swanky burgundy dress, dropping back into her ex-wife's life, to take her back. Erasing the pain and loneliness of the past decade. They had kept in touch, she was single, Diana had transitioned. It was perfect!

It dawned on her that she was too damn old to believe in fairytale endings.

~~+-0-+~~

The guns had stopped, and Kovech was back in his body. He didn't pay attention the shouts coming from the house, moving 'Circe's' body no doubt. It was almost nice feeling the main driver of his inner turmoil scream and mourn, tearing at the pit of his stomach. Almost.

Kovech watched the police lines to avoid looking at the house. He snickered to himself as the local media arrived. The bastard who was leaking to the news stations was getting a pretty good payout this morning. Two teams of cameras and anchors began setting up shop and doing takes for whatever package they were putting together for tonight.

"Media's here." He grumbled in Roy's direction, trying to sound more pissed then he was. Roy said nothing. The SWAT team captain said nothing.

"Roy?" Kovech turned to face his partner.

Roy was stuck, watching the SWAT team with deep unease.

"Captain?" Kovech tried again.

The man in black armor was shaking.

And Roy wasn't moving.

Kovech followed his partner's gaze to the front of the house. There, it was impossible to miss. The SWAT team had broken. Twisted and bent Kalashnikov '91s lay on the stoop.

The woman from the security footage stood there in the broken doorway, eyes staring out at all of them. Staring at him. The SWAT team dangled in the air kicking feet screaming like a wire stunt in a movie.

Fucked.

Totally fucked.

Kovech knew what he had to do. His right hand twitched as he made for his shoulder holster.

~~+-0-+~~

Circe stared out at the assemblage of pigs in the street. The sound of panicking SWAT team members was starting to get on her nerves. Okay, yes, I am holding you 4 feet off the ground, but c'mon.

She noticed movement out of the corner of her eyes. Shit. The media was here? Wasn't it like fucking 5 am? The barest hues of dawn were peaking through the clouds, and they were already putting together news packages for crime scared boomers.

Then Circe smelled it. One of the SWAT guys had shit himself. They were all to some degree or another begging for their lives, talking about their wife and kids, and screaming in fear. It was all too much.

With a flick of Circe's unbody the disarmed thugs were thrown several miles into the shallows of the Bay. Only for her to notice a flash of silver from cluster of pigs who seemed to be in charge.

Circe braced for a shot that never came.

One of the men stood with his hands up and his gun on the ground, as his two comrades ran for cover. He hesitantly took a step forward.

Oh.

So now they want to talk?

~~+-0-+~~

Diana paced the length of her kitchen. How was she going to tell Sarah? It wasn't like she had put her life on hold for the past decade. There had been turbulence and change in both of their lives since.

What did it really mean when he was now a she? They were still exes. Those fights at the bitter end hadn't been stricken from the record. Distant enough to be remade as people, close enough to have the pain in active memory.

Diana fiddled with her phone, like the teens she saw downtown. Could she just call her? It was 5:15 am. Absolutely not. Text? Neither of them were texters. She would have to wait- the worst of all possible options.

There was a early morning relay league meeting at 5:30. She could kill time until then. That would distract her until she could contact Sarah at a reasonable hour. Gosh the guys are gonna be so surprised!

~~+-0-+~~

Kovech watched helplessly as the SWAT team was thrown clear of the neighborhood. No one could live through a fall like that. They're dead. They were in the UND-OP cars with him. He saw their faces, knew their names. The SWAT team was an oldboys club. He had been to picnics with their wives. They routinely shot first.

Kovech looked down at his CZ-75, laying on the cement in front of him. It was still loaded. His hands were raised. He looked up at the psionic.

She was staring into him, walking forward slowly. Panic was beginning to overwhelm Kovech. Base instincts screaming to grab the gun or run, while his upper cognition was stuck.

Circe was staring into him.

Did she see the wolf?

Could she reach into his mind and see his shame?

His horrifying desire?

Kovech felt himself grow warm and exited. This was wrong.

The wolf was baying at the door. This was wrong.

He imagined himself throwing himself at her feet, begging to be corrupted. This was wrong.

He felt himself go hard, invisible under his tweed coat. This was wrong.

The withdrawal and sleep deprivation had sapped his willpower. He felt himself running through his last fumes in the tank.

Kovech rallied one last time. Meeting the psionic's eyes, he swallowed to wet his throat. Make contact. "Ma'am you are a suspect in the death of Remmy Jones..."

Her gaze bore into him, he couldn't take it. He needed to take it. There was nothing left. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

~~+-0-+~~

"Who?" Circe's brow furrowed. The anger of being attacked in the predawn hour, deflated out of her. She had never met that man in her life. Was this all a weird misunderstanding? Was this some sort of set up to disappear her? Was this...

Circe looked at the cop. Ruddy red nose dripping snot, as it mixed into his silent tears. She took pity on him then, it was hard not to. She was basically a god after all. "Are you okay?"

The cop looked genuinely taken aback. He was blinking desperately to try and clear his tear ducts without moving his hands from the raised position. When he spoke it sounded like he was reading a police report while his mind was firmly elsewhere. "Remmy Jones lived in the same development as you and was found locked in his room with an exploded brain." He stared at the pile of guns on the front stoop. "You can kill people with your mind, and Clarence Lovelace is still missing."

Oh.

Perhaps it was not the most diplomatic option, but Circe burst into laughter. "I'm Clarence Lovelace." She pointed at herself, voice harsh, staccato. "I've just ascended to a higher state!" Her hobo brain was telling her she was revealing too much, but she didn't care. She was beyond the law at this point. The states monopoly on violence had failed to stop her. They can't arrest a force of nature. "I am Circe!"

The cop looked taken aback, knocked out of whatever stupor he was in. He began sweating profusely, focusing on Circe's eyes. "Did you or did you not murder Remmy Jones?" His hands were shaking, voice wobbling.

Circe shrugged. "Nah, donno'im."

"Are you or have you ever been associated with the Russian psionic program?" his questions were gaining a hysterical edge.

Circe snorted. "No."

"So.." The cop's tenor voice shook, entering almost a vibrato. "Y-you are c-claiming to be a psionic totally un-unrealated to the c-clear psionic murder of y-your neighbor?"

Wait, she went back over what the cop had said in her mind. This dead guy lived in her development, died of a brain attack? That was a weird coinkydink. Was it possible this fucker had anything to do with her awakening? "When... was... this?"

"D-day before yesterday." The cop choked out. "Didn't sh-show up for w-work. Union r-rep busted h-his door in."

Shit. Did her weird ass dream really fucking kill a man? As much as it'd be cool and satanic in theory, in practice it made her stomach churn. If the cop noticed the change in her continence he didn't show it. "L-look, if we could've taken you in we would've, I'm m-mostly just curious."

Circe rubbed her face. Fine, ask your burning question, he can't hurt you. "Did he have like, some sort of writing surface and utensil with him?"

A shot rang out.

~~+-0-+~~

Diana hit the big, red, electric relay articulated 'on' button bolted to her radio desk and the array buzzed to life. She focused on adjusting her highly modified IC-7851 to the morning relay league preset, while humming a tune from Pyrrhic Defeat.

The leagues conversation emerged from the static already in full swing.

"-on about you dingbat!"

"Hey, c'mon now."

"You can't have 'chicken al-pastor', its not al-pastor unless its pork!"

"k9bd, I keep telling you, its what they had on the menu, and it was good"

"Well, w7rr, whatever you gringos are eating in Philadelphia, is f-I-mean hot, hot garbage!"

"This is k6df and I don't care what you call it good meat is good meat."

"Yeah you would say that."

"Are you callin' me racist k9bd?"

"What? I'm not answering that."

"Aren't you, like, Argentinian?"

"What's that got to do with anything? I live in LA."

"Now, I might just be a Okie, but I'm pretty sure I remember from my World War 2 documentaries that y'all were white enough to welcome Hitler with open arms."

"This is w7rr coming in to remind you that this conversation is about a chicken dish in Philly."

Diana giggled, she had only skipped one night, but she already missed these clowns.

~~+-0-+~~

Det. Jeffery Kovech had never really cared for the SWAT team leader. He was ex-UN Special Forces, Vet of the second Baluchi war of independence. His eyes were always cold and hard, like Kovech's father's.

Kovech watched him jump out of cover and try to put two in Circe's back while she stood in front of Kovech. It made the detective really appreciate how little the Captain really cared about him.

Of course the bullets didn't connect. Kovech would be dead on the ground if they were. It would've been better that way. Could have died a hero that way. Now he had to watch as Circe killed another coworker.

As the Capetian was disarmed and raised into the sky, the gas tanks of each patrol car blew in turn. Kovech watched in horrified silence as the street was blocked off by competing walls of fire.

The news teams struggled to stay on their feet. One group fleeing back to their van, the other standing strong to record the scene. Kovech looked back at Circe. He could almost make out a strange heat haze around her.

He wasn't thinking.

If he was thinking he would be trying to guard against the wolf.

All the mental barriers were down.

The door was unlocked.

His fingers were drawn to the haze.

It was the end of the world anyway.

Fingers made contact with something that wasn't.

Kovech's world went red.

~~+-0-+~~

Fuck. Circe was furious. She couldn't let this motherfucker get away with taking cheap shots. She had spared the SWAT guys, but this was too far. The cop in black armor began to bleed from the nose. How dare they try and kill her, attack the bands squat, all for what? Her power? The cop was bleeding from the eyes, now. Foolish enforcers for an outdated system, lining up to be slaughtered. His struggling ceased, and she let him fall to the ground dead.

As Circe turned back to face her erstwhile interviewer, she watched in horror as the cop exploded in a fountain of viscera. The blood was on her hair, her jacket, her overalls, her hands...

And she crumbled. Diana's panicked face as radio store owner realized she was trapped in the car floated through her mind.

She looked at the blood on her her hands with a certain amount of horror. The bravado of her godly power reduced to a fleck of red on her palm. A rain of blood continued painting her hands crimson. It was all she could focus her eyes on. She had just killed two people. One in a rage, and the other on accident. No thought given, just by instinct.

She found herself looking around wildly. Cameras, shit, she just killed two cops on TV.

As the blood raining back down on them stopped, she saw the figure of the tweed cop, still standing. Thank god. Thank fucking god.

The cop was clearly a girl now. So far she had only used her ability on trans people. Did she force feminize this man? When? How? What?

He(?) stated at her in stupefied shock.

~~+-0-+~~

"This is kb6zz coming in. I just wanna point out that Hitler's body was dumped in the Volga by Soviet troops after the war."

"You don't know that for certain... wait!" Diana smiled. k6df was on to her.

"What?"

"Yeah, this is k9bd whats wrong with being corrected, k6df?"

"I know kb6zz and he doesn't sound like that!"

Diana chuckled. "Triangulate me all you want you'll get my correct address."

"This is w7rr and I'm confused."

"What do you mean 'I'll get the correct address' you freeloader!"

"It's very simple," Diana explained in the most patient tone she could muster. "I'm Transgender."

"What!"

"I thought the rule for this relay league is no politics."

"Wait how is her being a woman political?"

"I knew you were a pervert kb6zz!! I knew it."

Diana felt her good mood lessen. "Listen w7rr, I'm only gonna bring this up so people who knew me don't freak at my new voice. Why is this such a big deal?"

"Why is this such a big deal?! I don't want you out here grooming the next generation of HAMs!"

"Shut up k6df."

"k6df, John, I'm sorry. I think we gotta ask you to leave."

If w7rr, gave k6bd time to defend himself he didn't take it.

"Honestly, chicken with al-pastor seasoning does sound good."

"Just when I thought you might actually be cool kb6zz..."

~~+-0-+~~

Kovech stood absolutely still, unsure what had happened to him. Smaller hands, lighter, cloths that felt loose against him even sopping with blood, he had obviously lost mass.

Had he?

No impossible.

So impossible he wouldn't even check.

Detective Jeffery Kovech looked down and observed his breasts.

Ah.

They were about as big as his mothers, that is to say, kinda on the small side.

His dick would have been hard by now if it still existed.

The horror of what he had done to himself burned at the edge of his mind.

Kovech could barely tell what was worse, the visceral disgust he felt for himself, or the fact that somehow, the wolf was silent. Silent, because Kovech had become the wolf. And yet, another voice in his head let him know, the door was still shut.

~~+-0-+~~

Detective Martian Roy was starting to freak out a bit. The SWAT team was dead. The Captain was dead. And Kovech, that sniveling little desk jockey had turned traitor. Martian had watched as, just as the Captain was being murdered, Kovech reached out to the psycho bitch and lost his man card.

Martian always knew Kovech was a pussy. He should have also guessed he was deep down some pervert he-she, too, seeing how that fuck played along with that psycho bitch's victim. Motherfucker selling out mankind for T and A.

Anyway next thing he knows, cop car he was hiding behind to him blows up, gets thrown clear, ended up in some wetbacks garden. He was lucky to be alive. Hopefully the beat cop boys were able to avoid their cars blowing up around them.

Then again, not everyone was Martian Roy.

He had to salvage this somehow. Poking his head up from around the planter the noticed two things. 1. He was only about 10 feet from psycho bitch and 2. she had been genuinely surprised by the Captain's sneak attack.

He fingered his Lake City Tactical OSS-4 Cosh, the basket weave stamped black leather filled with lead birdshot heavy in his hands. She had fought off bullets, but a strong enough knock to the back of the head will lay anyone out. Long odds, but Roy was a gambling man.

~~+-0-+~~

Circe smiled in a way that she hoped implied she wouldn't hurt the cop. The freshly woman-ed cop stared back in shock. "Are you okay?" Circe asked, trying to sound helpful.

The woman blinked. "Yes." The response seemed automatic, more macho deflection then the truth. It only took a moment for more of her brain to turn on, though. Embarrassment filling her ruddy cheeks as she opened and closed her freashly plusher lips. "I... touched you?"

Circe nodded in realization. "You touched my Unbody somehow." She scratched her nose. "Huh, cool, so you wanted this."

"No!" The woman screamed in denial. "I'm not a pervert!" She was panicking. "I'm not, I'm not..."

"Hey hey slow down there." Circe said. "When you touch my unbody it folds you into your ideal version of yourself."

"No! That's just not possible! Hey! Wait-"

"C'mon now, I know this is a-"

Circe felt a sharp weight against her skull. Fuck. It turned out she was only immune to projectiles.

~~+-0-+~~

Circe collapsed, unable to heed Kovech's warning. Roy slipped his cosh back into his horrible leather trench coat. Kovech was frozen. Roy took out two pairs of steel handcuffs, and squatted down to restrain Circe's hands and feet. Did this count as a win? When the man finished he got up and brushed imagined dirt from trench coat.

Kovech was horrified to discover he feared for the self proclaimed gods safety. She killed your colleges and fucked up your life forever. She had kind eyes but years on the force let him know that meant nothing. The wolf howled in his ear 'she granted your greatest wish'. He grit his teeth.

"You know, Jeff," Roy turned to face Kovech, smiling.

Kovech didn't know if he should flinch or offer congratulations. "Yeah Roy?"

He took a step forward. "I just realized something, Jeff."

Kovech frowned. Each time Roy said that name Kovech felt a punch. "I thought we agreed to keep things professional between us, whats up?"

Roy smiled up to his cainines. "No one knows who you are, Jeffery." Kovech flinched. Roy looked at his's blood soaked breasts and licked his lips.

Kovech took a step back and held up his hands. "What're you talking about Roy?"

Martin Roy took another step forward. "Poor Jeffery Kovech." His voice took a lilting mocking tone. "Hero detective cop, KIA by the terrorist Clarence Lovelace." Putting the back of his hand to his forehead he struck a pose of woe. "I did all I could but I was simply too late, he was a puddle of blood on the ground."

Kovech shook his head in pure disbelief. "What?" Why would he fake his death? Was Roy trying to kill him?

Roy laughed. "Face it Jeffery no one at the precinct is ever going to respect you again." He had a point. Women cops were largely hazed out. Roy smiled hungrily. "No one wants a failed man around Jeff."

There he went, off again with his weird theories on masculinity. Diana felt like a real woman to Kovech... Why was Roy acting like this? Why couldn't Roy treat Kovech, like Kovech had treated her?

Kovech just stood there frowning, trying to add up what Roy was trying to say. Roy just pointed at his boobs. "Think about it Jeff! You get to go out like a hero this way, masculinity intact!" He paused relishing the look of horror and confusion on his partner's face.

"And I... For my trouble..." His eyes filled with lust as he looked down on his ex-partner. "I get a live in maid, who does exactly what I say."

~~+-0-+~~

Diana disabled her HAM rig with a click. It was time to get breakfast. She found a nice aqua mumu from shopping yesterday, and draped one of her green cashmere scarfs over it, then exited her radio shop through the back.

The local Arazmendi was two blocks away anyway.

~~+-0-+~~

Roy had his gun out now. Kovech felt the caked blood around his crotch begin to dampen again. At first he was worried he had pissed himself, only coming on the the correct answer two embarrassing seconds later. Roy was walking closer and closer. Kovech's face flushed red, was this really how he succumbed? Turned into a woman by this gender terrorist and then coerced into being the fuck slave of his fucking partner?

The wolf howled and beat at the door. "C'mon, Jeffery doesn't sound nice?" Roy said through a grin. "I can tell you're always in your head about all this shit." He stood over Jeffery. "Not have to care about money, just living for someone else." Jeffery stared at the bulge in his partners pants. "Maybe you could have my kids? It's worth a shot given what that freak did to you."

Kovech had enough. He threw open the door. The wolf bounded inside.

~~+-0-+~~

Jane smiled. "I would love nothing more." She giggled, leaning up to kiss Martian on the lips. His stubble was painful to kiss around but she soldiered on. She had to. Martian leaned into the kiss with relish, gripping her hair with firm hands.

Jane sunk her teeth into the bottom of his lip and jerked her head backwards. She felt the tear and then give of flesh separating from flesh. The taste of blood glorious in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. She was the wolf. She would not be someones thing.

Martian for his part was screaming.

Casually Detective Jane Kovech reached down, picked her service weapon off the ground, and put three in Martian's head.

~~+-0-+~~

Diana took a big bite of her Chocolate Thingy. This was why she couldn't live anywhere else. Life without Arezmendi was a life not worth living. The dark chocolate blended with the challah type beadroll perfectly.

The nutty fragrance of her black coffee washed it all down with a synergy she could not describe.

Life was perfect.

~~+-0-+~~

Circe woke up with sidewalk in her face and cold steel against writs and ankles.

Shit.

BANG.

A gunshot in a place she could not see.

Panic.

BANG.

Her ears hurt from the proximity to the shots

Fear.

BANG.

Bird in a cage.

Something moved.

CRACK

The metallic feeling around her wrists disappeared as she felt shrapnel rain down around her. That's right. She was Circe! She was a goddess. How dare they. Slowly she lifted herself up with her unbody, shaking off the last remains of the handcuffs.

Floating three feet off the ground Circe turned her wrathful gaze on her would be capturers, only to see the cop she had girled with new coat of blood on her lips standing over the body of the other cop, gun in hand. The girl looked up at her, her face changing from elation(?!) to fear.

"Hey." Circe raised her hands, face softening. Did the cop kill her partner for Circe? The loyalty of the girls she had shifted, prickled at the back of her mind. A hard won instinct to avoid authority at all costs lashed out in the back of her mind. "I still don't wanna hurt you, how are you doing?"

~~+-0-+~~

Jane paused for a beat. It was strange, watching the psionic react to her. The evidence of her blood-thirst, the clear signs that she had given in to her worst urges, was laid at her feet. Yet, this fucking crazy with godlike power, was worried about her?

Jane snorted, admiring how even this felt cute in a feminine way. She stopped to think, to actually ponder how was she doing. "This either the worst day of my life or the best?" Her face fell with that realization. "Fuck this is so horrible, I've given in to all my demons and feel... better?"

Circe raised an eyebrow. "How desperately did you want to be a woman?"

Jane blushed and stuttered, her mind spiraling. "I'd ne- I'm not a perv- Just underw-" She stopped, this was stupid, Circe had explained her power to the point that they both knew what was up. "Enough for this to happen." No more excuses. Breathe. In, out. "My name is Detective Jane Kovech."

~ ~ + - 0 - + ~ ~

Circe smiled warmly landing on the ground. She looked around and noted that the second camera had bailed as well. The street was deserted at 6-something in the morning. She yawned. "Its nice to meet you, Jane, I wish it was under better circumstances."

Something seemed to click in the detectives mind, as if she was shunting off emotional vulnerability for another time. "Remmy Jones was found with a blood covered notebook, rubbings revealed the numbers Seven, Six, point, and then an unintelligible character." It was like she was reading from a case file in her head.

Circe smiled. "Well then."

Jane glared at Circe. "What does that mean?"

"You can close the case."

Jane began to look irritated but Circe was enjoying giving her the run around. "Why?"

"Remmy Jones was killed by an act of god, I'm afraid." Circe was still smiling, but it was the smile of holding back morbid laughter.

The detective threw her hands up in the air. "Okay?! Then tell me what that was, you fucking..." She paused for a beat "Is it cool for me to call you a bitch now?"

Circe could hold it no longer, she laughed. "My mom accidentally killed him when she was broadcasting her psionic distress signal in this area. Its a miracle more people didn't die."

Jane went pale. "...and this mother of yours... not human?"

"Yeah I freed her from earth though, so she shouldn't be a threat anymore... I have no idea where she is? Or my bio mom for that matter."

The detective blinked, and suddenly her face was full of more emotion again, the frustrated professionalism replaced with shellshocked wonder. "Fuck. It hit me again that I'm a woman now... I can be... a mom?"

Circe sat down on the curb and patted the spot next to her. "Yeah, its crazy, right?"

"Yesterday I was at peace with being married to the force, no spouse, no family." Jane said starring out into the distance. "Now... I don't have to be Det. Kovech, I could be... Jane, the mom."

"Kovech... that's Serbo-Croatian right?"

"Yeah, Croatian... how did you know?"

Circe laughed uncomfortably. "My dad was a Marxist academic. He had a portrait of Allende and a portrait of Tito in a little shrine to communism."

Jane looked uncomfortable. "My dad went to volunteer in Bosnia. I was 5. He always warned me about Serbo-Comunism..."

Circe was horrified, and let the grimace slip through. "On the Croatian side??"

"Well we're from Herzegovina, so..."

"Jane, you dad absolutely committed war crimes."

Jane opened he mouth. Closed it. Looked down at her blood soaked tits, and smiled. "Yeah, he was a fucking idiot." She poked them. "He'd kill me if he found out I had these." She looked out at Roy's steaming corpse. "Or that I killed my partner."

Circe scratched the back of her head. "Yeah what the hell happened there? I was kinda distracted."

Jane blushed. "He... uh... He offered to... fuck, ok." She rubbed her face trying to suppress the growing wetness in her crotch. "He offered to fake my death and become his 24/7 submissive."

Circe raised an eyebrow looking back at the corpse with new eyes. "You did what you had to." Jane looked at her, brows furrowed. "I-I mean... Oh god I'm bad at this. Look-"

Jane rolled her eyes, Roy was a bastard, it would've only been fun for like, maybe a day. "I don't care." She rubbed her chin appreciating it's smoothness. "I think..." The image of Roy lusting after her body started to blend with Kelridge's sadism and Maclesby's pedo shit and the kid's hatred and the boss's dismissiveness. It all felt like pushing to a single point. "...I don't wanna be a cop anymore."

Circe held out a hand for a high five. Jane raised her hand and paused, as if waiting for permission, then building up confidence she smacked it with all she had.

Jane smiled contentedly. Then she remembered the cooling body in front of them. "What now?" She gestured at the scene before them. "You melted the SWAT captain and popped me on live TV." She paused "I'm pretty sure they got me killing Roy, too."

Circe leaned her mouth on her palm, pensive. "I'm a class 1 Psionic." She leaned further forward stating at the horizon. "I can do whatever I want, and no one can hurt me." Jane stared at the woman that she had just started to see as a friend in horror. Circe rose off the curb, watching the cop car burn. "I'm going to organize a revolution."

The end