a thin-shaped nose, pierced ears, now filled with gold sleepers, and soft skin, but he had always been pampered, even as a boy. As his eyes traveled down, Bud stopped for a moment at his brother's chest. It couldn't be! The mounds were moving as Linda breathed and the bra was only the softest webbing possible for support.

"Yes," Linda giggled. "I've got breasts. They're all my

own!"

Bud reached for his coffee, averting his eyes for a moment. He had seen and worked with so many different transsexuals, transvestites, queens, queers, that he'd seen just about everything

- but on his own brother! It was as if he had violated himself! "You're not pleased for me," Linda was anxious. She sat putting her feet on the carpeted floor.

Bud took a long drink before replying. "Should I be?" he asked.

The crestfallen look on Linda/Allen's feminized features made Bud feel like a monster. "I've always wanted them,” said Linda quietly. "Now I'm complete as Linda Hamilton."

Bud took another drink. “I supoose that this is the end of the transvestite and the beginning of the transsexual, eh?" Linda looked at her brother blankly. "What?" her full lips parted to show her fine, well spaced teeth.

"You have a boyfriend, a fiance, I hear," said Bud sar- donically. "You know, of course, that's it illegal, even if not impossible, for one man to take another man as his wife,"

"Oh, Tyler," there were bright tears in Linda's eyes. “I see why you'd think what you do. But you're wrong. Let me explain about Clay, my fiance."

Bud drained his coffee. Linda had not yet touched hers. "Are you sure I really want to hear?" he asked, turning to her. "Look, I know there's an Alan in there someplace, underneath all that femme stuff. I'm Alan's brother, remember?" He was harsher than he intended. "And Alan's my brother, too. Re- member that?" He was shouting.

'Sh-sh-sh-sh-," Linda put a finger, topped by a long, pointed red-lacquered fingernail, on her pursed lips. She looked nervously towards the little hallway which led from the kitchen area towards the bedroom.

"Why should we be quiet?" shouted Bud. "Who are we going to wake up? Are you sharing this place with someone? As if in answer to the call, a tall, sandy-haired guy, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes, came ambling from the bedroom. "Who is it, Linda honey?" he asked, peering into the living room.

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