Scribe's POV

The next morning the clothes were marginally more acceptable, though an unpleasant scent still wafted around them. The underwear had survived pretty well, thank heaven, protected by the other layers of clothing.

My hair was throwing its usual post-wash hissy fit. I managed to drag a brush through the worst of the snarls, wishing for a good wide toothed comb. I ended up staring at myself sourly in the mirror. My hair waved around my head sort of like Ariel's did underwater in The Little Mermaid.

Lois came up behind me, peeking at my reflection. I grimaced at her in the mirror and said in my best Boris Karloff tones, "It's alive. Alive!" I snatched a thick rubber band out of a small dish of odds and ends and jerked my hair back ruthlessly into a ponytail. It was as thick as my forearm at the base, and wild wisps still ghosted about my face.

"That is a little untamed." Lois picked up an aerosol can, shaking it, and reached out to smooth a strand into place. "Hold still."

I ducked, covering my head with my arms. "No you don't! I hate that stuff, I can't stand it, and it's killing the ozone layer."

She frowned. "What's an ozone layer?"

"Never mind, I just don't want that stuff in my hair. No spray, no spritz, no gel, no mousse."

"Mousse?"

"Especially no mousse."

"Scribe, I know you're a little nutty, but surely even you wouldn't rub a chocolate dessert into your hair? I mean, I've heard of doing shampoos and treatments with vinegar, beer, even eggs and mayonnaise, but..."

"It's an interdimensional thing: you wouldn't understand. No artificial stuff, thank you. I'd rather frizz."

She sighed. "All right, if you seriously want to look like a... a demented lion."

"I'll have you know that people spend lots of money to buy wigs like this. God knows why, but they do. Maybe I should chop it off and sell it, like in 'The Gift of the Magi'. I should have enough here to weave two wigs with enough left over to knit a cat and stuff a pincushion."

"Oh, come on. I'm not going to argue with you about it now. We'll see what we can do with it later."

"Just tell everyone I got curious and stuck a bobby pin in an electric outlet. It's true, you know. When I was about three. But I don't think I can blame the fuzz on it, not after seeing the baby curl that my mom saved in my baby book."

"You're babbling. Are you nervous?"

"Well, gee, let me think. I'm about to go out into a different universe for the first time and deal with people who were never more than comic book characters to me. Blood pressure, up. Pulse, rapid. Breathing, a little strained, but don't call Superman for artificial respiration again. Palms slightly sweaty. Yeah, I'd say nervous is a fair assessment."

"Don't be. You'll be fine. Just remember, I'm here if you need me."

"Promise?"

I must have sounded like a homesick twelve year old, but Lois just smiled. "Promise."

I'd never been in a department store the size of the one we visited, but then, I'd never been into a really big urban area, like New York, Chicago, Metropolis, or Gotham. It must have been like... I don't know, Macy's or Bloomingdale. It was huge.

The first thing she tried to buy for me was a business suit: jacket and skirt. I looked at it, humming. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing. It's lovely--for you."

"You'll need something for the office."

"I don't know how to break this to you. I don't do dresses, or skirts. Not unless I'm attending a wedding or a funeral, and I don't get invited to many of either, so that lets out those styles. You did notice how I was dressed, didn't you?" I indicated my stained running pants and sweatshirt.

"I thought... You said you were at a costume contest."

"At one, not in one. I quit wearing dresses on a regular basis when they relaxed the dress code in sixth grade. Up till then we were only allowed to wear them on extra cold days. Extra cold by their definition, which meant at least a foot of snow and more on the way. You have no idea how angry I got seeing the guys walking around in nice, snug pants and jeans while I was shivering with cold winds blowing up my skirt, freezing my twa... my behind off. I decided that it was pretty much going to take a gun to my head to make me wear those again. I do hope you don't intend to draw down on me."

"No, I suppose you can get away with it at the Planet, since Superman is explaining things to Perry, and you won't really be working with the public."

"Good, good. Mustn't frighten the mainstream. So, pants?"

"You can't use the lounging pajamas for the office. These are awful casual, but maybe..."

"Lois, those zip up the side."

"Well, yes."

I laughed, and she put them away, picking out another pair. "And those zip up the back. It's like some man designed them so that the woman putting them on is forced to push her boobs out while she's trying to get them fastened."

"I never thought of it like that."

"My mind runs in strange circles. Years of graveyard shifts will do that to you. There's what I need!" I made a bee line.

"Scribe, that's the men's department!"

"No, really? Explains why all the mannequins have crew cuts, I guess. Now this is more like it!" I held up a pair of black chinos. "Yowza! Looks like they're my size, too. Where's the dressing room?"

"You can't try those on here!"

"Sure I can. It's not like I'm going to have a guy in there with me. Just stand guard. And as long as I'm at it, I need a shirt." I grabbed a plain white shirt, really large to accommodate a bosom. "And a belt." I snatched a nice braided leather one off a rack and hustled into the dressing cubicle before she could object.

I stripped off my odiferous garments and struggled into the new ones. Oh, the glory of clean clothes! I felt human again, or at least humanoid. The pants were comfortable, if a tiny bit tight in the butt. I could live with that. I guess they just didn't expect guys to have big booties. The shirt felt crisp and cool. I took up my discarded clothes and went out.

"Whataya think?" I turned in front of a three sided mirror. Hm, definitely tight in the butt, but a larger size would be too loose in the waist. I'd just have to be careful not to bend over too fast.

"It... looks good on you."

"Well, don't sound so surprised." I put my hands in the back pocket and rocked happily on my heels. "Can I have a couple more pairs, different colors?"

"Uh... sure. Khaki and dark brown would be good. And some more shirts." I was nodding happily. "You need some more underwear."

"Yeppers. Gotta stay fresh." I headed for Ladies' Undies. I saw Lois hanging back by the BVDs. "Come on." She looked from the display to me, and followed.

I vetoed the Maiden form chest protector she showed me first. The one I settled on was actually a training bra, nothing but soft, stretchy fabric, but it would hold the assets fairly firmly. I passed up the frilly little things for my usual cotton briefs. I laughed at the girdle. Lois tried to explain, "You'll need it for your hose." I had to sit down to catch my breath on that one.

"Hose are an invention of the devil. Socks. I'm not wearing a dress, I'm not wearing hose. Socks, or I go barefoot, and that will make me need Odor Eaters."

I know she didn't understand me, but she was a good sport about it. She knew better than to point out high heels when we hit the shoe department. She did try to argue me into a woman's shoe when I started looking at the loafers, but I pointed out that they really didn't have my size. I have big feet. Lady Sasquatch time. While I was at it, I asked her if she didn't think that most women's shoes were designed by sadistic misogynists, because who the hell really believed that women's feet came to a point? I ended up with comfortable loafers, and nice lace ups for the office.

On the way out, she paused at the men's gift counter and said hesitantly. "Do you want a tie?"

I looked at her, puzzled. "Lois," I said gently, "Ties are for guys." She looked like she didn't know whether to laugh or groan, and she nodded.