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She.

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Something have changed. I'm not the same I used to be. I would like to say that I feel strange, that I feel confused, that I feel wrong. Well, maybe I am. But it's not too bad. I feel strangely satisfied. My extreme joy confuses me. I feel wrong for not having done this earlier.

I don't know when it happened, but she had started looking at me in this odd way. She would blink a lot and her cheeks would turn pink (naturally pink, not like that makeup). She would sing the words when she spoke to me and she stopped calling me awful names. I liked that. The names never bothered me though. She was always a bit too rough, she liked treating me like I was a boor but I knew she didn't actually think so. She was sweet. She liked to take care of me. When it was cold she always told me to wear more clothes (once she said "I won't sleep with you if you get cold". God. Rumours spread so easily. That day I blushed and she laughed but I never forgot it). When it was hot she would always tell me to drink fresh water. When there was some danger, she wouldn't step back. She wasn't a coward. She isn't. She is brave. More than anyone. She is braver than anyone. I've never known anyone braver. She decided to wear those dresses and still chase KGB agents. She is no pansy. She was my senior (she will always be) but she was mostly my friend. So I had to step in front of her. After all, I didn't have a skirt. And I was taller.

She was happy, I know. She stopped calling me names. She stopped drooling over the Major or Lord Gloria when I was near. She began sitting closer, sometimes she would lean against me, discreetly. I let her. She was warm and she always smelled nice. Always. It was hard to... Call her out? Properly?

"Mr G", everyone said. Well, the Major, as tough as he is, he always called her " Agent G". Never said "mister". But he'd tell me " ignore *him*, pass the phone to *him*, tell *him* to stop screeching ". And yes, for me, she was " him". Sometimes, in her little agent suit, she would sway her narrow hips from side to side and it was really awkward. One couldn't help but stare. And then one would look away, embarrassed and blushed, because one would be looking at a boy with curious eyes. A would often blush. A always said that he didn't recognize her without makeup. But he looked at her. He was one of the kindest. He and B always treated her kindly. But A also called her something I never heard before. "Transgender". It was such a strange word. But G was happy, she said it felt good. She started calling herself a maiden. She used to call herself a boy too. But when she began calling herself a maiden she never wore a suit again. Only dresses. And then, it was easier to stare.

I don't know how it happened... But suddenly, we couldn't work separately. Even the Major noticed. We were efficient when we were together. So he made us work together. And suddenly she started looking at me like that... She was grateful, because she knew I'd protect her. I'd protect her with my life.

And one day I started calling her " miss". A's eyes widened more than usual, I thought he was going to lose an eye, it would pop out. When the Major heard me he started coughing. He was mad but didn't say a thing. When I spoke about "her" he'd pretend he didn't know who I was talking about. The Major was... He is old. And tough. He can't understand a maiden's psyche. Not G's. I can't either. But I listen to her. She has a lot of nice things to say when one is willing to listen. Half or more of the time I have no idea what she's talking about, but her eyes sparkle, and her teeth are so white and she has a little dimple on her chin.

God...

But even if the Major said she was a man and even if she tried to help showing it to me, I could see how she looked at him. She restrained all the sighs. But her pink cheeks didn't lie. Why the Major? Why him? He is so rough? He never told her nice things. He always asked for coffee, even if she was busy. He would slightly wrinkle his nose at her perfume. Why? It is so delicious! She's like a little flower, she is like a flower in our bureau. And he was a cigarette butt. But she, she would always side-glance at him.

Not to mention Lord Gloria. He is so flashy. He is. He has a very pretty hair. And his eyelashes are way to long for a man's. But he always looked at me more. It's not that I didn't notice. I didn't *care*. I was afraid. He was very smart. And quite immoral. And G sometimes looked at me envious, if Lord Gloria would rather look at me more than her. But Lord Gloria is a homosexual. Why would he pay attention to the way her little cute haircut framed her pale face? He always knew which brand of lips makeup she was wearing, but I don't think he'd actually notice how lighter colours suited her full lips better than bright red. Because they look more natural, and somehow tempting. The Earl certainly could tell the name of her perfume but surely he wouldn't notice that in her skin, in her clothes, it smelled different. It smelled... Like herself, and that was nice. And I bet the Earl could point out each house where she bought her clothes but I can be sure he never paid attention to the way this dress adjusted nicely on that tiny waist, the way the neckline gave her chest a pretty feminine shape even when there was no breasts underneath, the way the skirt that was particularly short that time raised when she moved and showed a generous part of skin and thigh, that looked as soft as silk.

One day, I realized, I was looking at Lord Gloria the way G looked at me. G looked at me jealous because Lord Gloria looked at me with lust. I looked at Lord Gloria jealous because G looked at him with adoration... Lord Gloria looked at us amused because... We looked at each other with... Something.

And then one day at Novosibirsk, I was cold. We shared a room, but we had two beds. She was wearing pajamas. They were pink and had little white flowers. I found myself looking at her. She had no makeup, her hair was damp from the shower, her chest so flat, her hips so narrow. But she was the cutest woman I've ever seen. I felt sick. I wanted to be sick, more like. I was, to some extent. However at the same time, I was so enchanted. Mein Gott, she was shivering. We had a warm room but still, we were cold. I was in my bed, wearing an under shirt and boxers. She was in hers, but sitting up, cross legged, inspecting a mobile phone she managed to steal from one of the French spies. We didn't understand what the French had to do with this. But we ever hardly understood anything.

I remember so well. She growled annoyed and left the mobile phone on her bed side table. It was locked and she couldn't guess the password. It didn't matter! But if she was already mad, no point in trying to make her better. She would get worse.

Somehow I remembered that joke she made. How did she find out about Anneliese? I didn't know. I didn't care? For some reason I didn't want to think of Anneliese when I was thinking of G. Made me anxious. G said she wouldn't sleep with me if I was cold. She surely knew about that girl. I blushed when I found myself completely setting aside the memory of sleeping with Anneliese to consider the idea of sleeping with G. What was wrong with me?

I squirmed in my bed. I was feeling so awkward. I wish I could say I was sick. Yes, I was... Kind of. But I was...

I looked at her. I tried to remember Anneliese, her gentle curves, her long hair, the softness of her breasts. Nice, so nice. And looking at G... She surely would look more... Like myself than Anneliese. I closed my eyes and shook my head. "You don't mind", I thought. " How is it possible that you *don't* mind?!". I opened my eyes again. I was clenching my teeth and trembling. And G was looking at me.

"What are you looking at, vomit face?" She said angrily, still upset because of that phone, surely. I was surprised. She hadn't call me names in a long time. She definitely never called me "vomit face". And I couldn't help chuckling. Her cheeks flushed and she pursed her lips, angry. " What's so funny?!" She almost squeaked.

I looked at her and shook my head. "You shouldn't treat me so bad. I know you'd respect me more if I were grumpy as the Major. But because I'm kind, you mistreat me" I managed to say. I didn't notice I was smiling so much until my cheeks started to hurt. She snorted.

"Don't be silly. The Major is a man of quality. You're nothing but a little inexperienced boy" she said, all proud in her pink pajamas.

I almost startled myself when I said "oh really?" And I sounded just like the Major. She looked at me. She was surprised and eventually, I noticed, she was starting to enjoy it. And I wonder why, but since she liked it, I got out of bed and sat next to her. I looked at her with narrowed eyes and cold expression, and I could almost sense her getting smaller next to me. "What you need is some good fucking discipline. What makes you think a bloody wimp like you can call me such stupid names? You may be older but I could break you with just a little push, so watch it".

I wanted to be sick. Really. It doesn't feel good to talk to anyone like that. But... Fuck! I could see that she was aroused. And I noticed that was what I was feeling. Arousal. I wanted her. I needed to take her. But she wouldn't let me. She wanted the Major, she wanted Eroica. Not me. She wanted someone brave. Someone rough. Someone who could face the danger and get over it successfully. I don't remember a time when the Major didn't have to save my ass. How embarrassing...

I couldn't be myself. I had to act like the Major, and it was working!

" What... Is wrong with you, Z?" She stuttered, and her cheeks flushed.
"I'm showing you your place. I'm tired of your teasing" I mumbled and I grabbed her shoulders. Believe it or not I never grabbed her like that. Mein Gott she was small. But strong. She startled but she bit her lower lip. That rosy, full lip. I felt angry. "She is aroused because I'm treating her like the Major would" I thought. And I shook her and made her lay down roughly and pinned her on the bed. She moaned... And I felt a tug in my groin.

There was no turning back. No turning back. Her pupils were dilated and her cheeks blushed. Eyes heavy lidded and the prettiest bedroom face I've ever seen. My heart ached. "Why didn't you ever look at me that way?" I thought. "I can't be rough with you. I can't. I love you. I love you. I love you". I thought to myself and my grip loosened. And once I admitted to myself that I loved her it repeated on every corner of my brain like an echo. " I love you. I love you".

I looked down at her and she was looking at me intrigued. No more bedroom eyes. Of course. I was being myself again. Soft and sissy. "Z?" She asked softly. Then she smirked. "Are you... Cold?" She giggled.

I couldn't help but smile. She was too pretty. I shook my head. "No, I'm... Warm, actually. But I wouldn't mind sharing warmth with you". Her cheeks blushed even more.

I stopped pinning her down and we went under the blankets. She cuddled close to me. It felt natural. I looked into her eyes, afraid of finding that teasing smile yet wishing to find that sensual look she'd give to Iron Klaus. But she was looking at me with those tender eyes of those last times. And my heart skipped a beat.

She was so small and soft. Her eyes were so big. I felt in my heart all the love that I have repressed for years and suddenly it made sense. But I didn't dare. God, I was a coward.

" You're so kind to me", she whispered. "You're the best man I've ever met..." She added. I almost sobbed. Me? She wasn't lying. Her eyes spoke truth.

"I..." I said "... Am sorry for being rough. I was being playful". My voice was weak. She smiled.

"I know. I know... You can be yourself with me, Z. What would you do now?" She asked me and her tiny hand slid under my shirt. I grasped the back of her pajamas.

"I would kiss you. I would... Make love to you. No, *with* you". We both blushed like teenagers. Like virgins. Maybe she even was.

"Do you want to...?" We asked at the same time. She giggled nervously and nodded. I said "why wouldn't I?". She rolled her eyes as if nothing were more obvious and I assured her as if nothing were more obvious "I love you. I want to be with you".

And G looked at me and all I read was " you do? I love you too! And this is making me emotional. And I will cry ". Her cute lip trembled a bit and I couldn't help it. I pressed my lips on it and it kept trembling against my lips but suddenly they were firm and confident. And suddenly we were kissing, kissing like two lovers who waited years for the first kiss. It was sloppy, it was noisy, too wet and our teeth knocked together once. It was the best kiss. It was horrible. But it was G. And I felt my heart was going to explode.

Maybe we shouldn't have done it. It was a mission and also it was the first time for her, and it was our first time together. Yesterday, no, hours ago we were just friends. Now we were lovers. But wasn't it too soon to...?

But I wanted it. God knows I'm weak for it.

And she smelled so good. And damn, the little noises she made. I felt how my parts were swollen and hard. It was just a goddamn kiss. But suddenly I was struggling with the top of her pajamas. She pulled my hands away and I did not insist. I kept kissing her. Her face, her pale neck. She began struggling with my under shirt and I took it off myself for her. No other hands have ever touched me like hers. That was love. It was dedication. I *felt* her love on every shaky caress. "Please..." I begged tugging at her top again. I needed to show her my love too. She allowed me to expose her and she was so mortified. I wasn't. I was enamoured. I ran my hands over that breastless chest and I placed hundreds of kisses there because my heart commanded me to do so. She moaned and I looked up to find she was almost crying. I almost yelped, confused.

"What is it? What is it?" And I whispered her Christian name. She shook her hand. "I'm fine" she giggled. "Just please... Be gentle. Please..." She asked.

"You needn't ask, dear... That I can be. Gentler than no one" I reassured her. And it was true. She relaxed and I kept working on her. I got rid of her pants and even if I startled a bit when I found her erection, I fought my anxiety and my need to please her was bigger. In one moment we were naked, and yes our bodies were similar but she was... G. I couldn't feel anything more... Natural. Meant to be. I instinctively moved my body in a way we both could enjoy. She learned fast and molded herself to me. She was underneath me, and we were grinding, her flushed reached down her neck and her expressions were a delight. I could wrap her shoulders entirely with just one arm. She was holding tightly against mine. I devoured that gorgeous mouth and savoured it and enjoyed the naturally skilled movements of her curious tongue. I cupped her small ass with both hands when she switched positions and I surrendered to her kisses, licks, bites and love words, a hot breath against my damp skin.

I couldn't get inside her, but it didn't matter. All it mattered when again she was under my weight, squeezing me with her thin yet strong thighs and digging her manicured fingernails in my back was that all was said now. This was us. Us. The story of two people. Two alphabets. Two lovers.

"I love you!" She moaned when she finished in irregular spurts between our bodies, wincing as if she were in pain but groaning as if nothing were more pleasurable. She was panting and thrusting up when I growled her name and finished myself, and it was it, what seemed eternity and seemed a second was nothing but maybe forty something minutes of love.

I rolled over from her, and held her tight, and vomit face now was liebling, schatz, schnuckiputzi and we were laughing and kissing and warm and safe, right where we belonged: in each other's arms.

And now I'm not the same. I've changed. Anyone can tell. The Major could tell and he wanted to send us to Alaska. But we were so efficient together. He couldn't dismiss us. But he threatened us. And then let us be... Annoyed, but as long as we worked well...

And now here I am. And she lays next to me. So small, so brave, so beautiful and cheeky. We've changed, (haven't we, my love?) But something remains the same: she's still the prettiest girl I've ever seen. The only one I love.