My sister Samantha slowly raises her eyebrow, “Why is it you’re specifically looking at me on that one?”

“OK, so… I have over a dozen fake ID’s that are basically bulletproof; they were made by a mobster who was doing it for the long haul - and I mean for the REALLY long haul - a few bribes to confuse the paperwork at a hospital for babies who died at birth so the deaths aren’t recorded, shuffle a few addresses in hospital records, get the Social Security Administration to issue the social security number anyway, get an underpaid school administrator to insert records on a schedule as though the kid was enrolled there, et cetera… and twenty years later, he had fake IDs in all the right databases and all the right database backups that just need a renewal at the DMV to get a new photograph. He was doing it quite routinely, and I ended up with them. But! That takes twenty years. I have over a dozen of them, with no reason to think any of them have been broken, but they’re all for nearly identical people… and all for women. And I’m going to need to match Fred to the ID, I can’t match the ID to Fred.”

《I can probably get one issued much like I did for you earlier, and you can issue passports….》Jessica starts in mentally to me.

《I don’t actually like Fred all that much, and besides: He’s going to need this ID forever. It’s not just a driver’s license to get by, he’ll need a social security number, birth certificate, proof of residence, and on and on.》

《Ah, so we can’t arrange everything he’ll need anyway… never mind then.》

Fred just shrugs a little, but Samantha lays into me, “SERIOUSLY?! You plan to turn my HUSBAND into a WOMAN?!”

I raise my hands, “Looks, those are the only fake IDs I have readily available that will work for the long haul. I’m not an expert criminal,” although Kitty is, and will do anything I say, so I probably could get something that would work well enough, but again: I don’t actually like Fred all that much, “I can make a fake ID that’ll pass visual examination, but if I do that it won’t be tied to a ‘legend’ - there wouldn’t be a legal identity behind it, nor any history: It’d fall apart if anyone actually checked it against the actual databases. If you’ve got a better option on a fake ID, I’ll cheerfully match him to whatever you provide.”

Fred lays a hand on his wife’s shoulder, and whispers in her ear, “It’s the only way I can get out of this alive without sacrificing my friends and relatives. It’s … not so bad. We’ll need to spend a little time apart, then we can meet again ‘for the first time’ and get back together… or if you find you can’t deal with it, well… no hard feelings. You’ll have fulfilled the whole ‘As long as you both shall live’ thing, as I’ll have died.”

Samantha turns around and hugs her husband, crying on his shoulder, "But I want you as YOU."

He seems to have this… "I'll still be me, just with a different skin, you always said you liked me for my wit, not my wick. And I can have a mold made beforehand…."

"But we'll never be able to have kids…."

"Oh, that's solvable," I interject, "part of the reason I wanted to call you all here, in fact. I know a spell that will ensure conception - even between two physical females, the spell is not picky - and Jessica and I used it. We're both carrying, although it's really early in the pregnancies. And Samantha, Fred: I can run the spell for you two too, now or at any point in the future, but you'll need to avoid shapeshifting while pregnant - it could maybe kill the baby."

All my relatives talk over each other all at once. The Veil of Attentiveness lets me sort it out.

My brother: "So does that mean you've accepted your new biology and I should start calling you 'sis'?"

My mother: "So when's the wedding? I am so looking forward to grandchildren!"

My sister: "Oh that's wonderful! How soon can you apply it? And congratulations bro!"

Fred keeps quiet.

So I answer them. "Joe, I'm still a guy, just like it says on my birth certificate. Mom, I haven't thought that far ahead. And Samantha, I could cast it now if you'd like, but do at least wait until after dinner to use it, eh?" I also have a problem with asking Jessica, because she WILL say yes. Much better if she asks me… even if that is a reversal of tradition.

Fred raises both his eyebrows, "You caught all of that?"

I chuckle, "Yes, I did. Magic is useful for all kinds of things, there's a reason your soon-to-be-ex bosses want it. Which is also kind of why I’m not giving it to them: I really don’t like the idea of a magic-powered surveillance state. I mean, I can do a lot of very nasty things," and some I have, but only to people who were rapists, kidnappers, and/or murderers, and that only those where I confirmed it personally, "I mean, what would your bosses do with mind-reading, as an example?"

Fred considers, "Ooh… protect and advance national interests in various ways."

Joe pipes in, "Like?"

Fred continues, "Scan crowds for criminal thoughts, listen in on people who might have information during interrogation, have spies read minds to get code phrases… nothing an American would like, I'm sure. Best not to give it to them, agreed."

I continue as well, “Yes, and that’s one of the less abusable things in my repertoire. So no, no magic for China, and frankly I’m limiting what I sell to Uncle Sam, too.”

That gives Fred pause, “You’re selling magic to the government?”

I shrug, “Specific buffs, yes, the ability to make their own, no,” I pause a moment, “And one of the agents I empowered is currently shadowing the State Chairman, by the way.”

Fred raises an eyebrow, “They changed the official English translation to President in 1982. Why’d you use ‘State Chairman’?”

“That’s the term the agent uses, for whatever reason. They’re still testing my products, and apparently the agent’s mission is to get a whoopee cushion under the President’s seat on live TV without getting caught. They have an office betting pool on it, but I think if he can, I’m the one who wins.…”

Joe laughs, “Because that means they’ll be buying a whole lot more, right?”

“I really don’t need the money, but yes, I’m going to win more than the entire betting pool.”

Fred turns serious, “It’s because the same power you’re selling them lets you keep an eye on them.”

I nod, “It’s a simple matter to slip a scrying sensor in among several beneficial spells…” an accurate statement, but not a true one, as it’s not how I’m playing things: A scrying sensor can be noticed, even without magic. Yes, Fred is soon to be an ex-agent… but while federal agents pay turncoats well, treat them well, shelter them, give them respect, and so on… they never trust them. Because there’s no telling when a turncoat might be a double-agent instead… and he figured out I was reading his mind, and all I get with that are surface thoughts. Enough self-control could trick that - the solution to the ‘don’t think about pink elephants,’ problem is to immediately picture a plaid rhinoceros tiptoeing through the tulips, by the way. “...and I don’t entirely trust all of those elected leaders, much less the various unelected folks they’ve hired.” Also a true statement.

Fred is looking at… oh. Of course. Well, now he’s got a good idea that’s not how I do it. He watched everyone else’s reaction. Yay. Because of course I told my family that the same link that lets me grant them shapeshifting also grants me insight into their minds while I’m using it, and Fred can read THEM, even if he can’t read me. Ah well. I’m not an expert spy, it seems.

Fred chuckles, “Anyway, we have much celebrating to do, do we not?”

I nod, “that we do.”

I update my family’s buff spells to be more current (ditto for their copies of Minnie). None for Fred, of course. Dinner is a Bountiful Banquet spell - not Heroes’ Feast, I don’t want to be giving Fred any buffs - and the wine flows freely (the Enhance Water spell means I don’t run out, and Fabricate does the job extraordinarily well too).

After the meal, and a good conversation about nothing in particular, I start sending people home. Samantha and Fred come to me last.

Samantha starts: “So, about that spell…”

“I can do it right now if you’d like. It’ll take effect the next time you engage in ‘marital relations’. One hundred percent conception rate, and the spell explicitly does not care about little things like the time of the month or physical impossibilities. Would you like that?”

Fred blushes and looks the other way, as Samantha nods, a glow in her eyes.

I smile as I cast the spell, and send them both home.