Shopgirl

Gunnar was pleasantly surprised, though he supposed he should have expected a shopgirl, as this was a clothing store, plus there was the obvious interest in such fields as exercise, weight loss, athletics, even ballet. Her bod was thick and rather shapeless, but it was pleasingly short, and though her face was a bit chunky and only borderline handsome, her smile was a winner.

"Welcome! How may I help you?"

He noticed a small nameplate reading BUFFY. "Slain any vampires lately?"

She smirked, evidently jaded and dead tired of the old inevitable joke but still wanting to be nice. "Not lately."

He let it go. "Leotards."

"For? Exercise ... ballet?" she dared hope.

Gunnar wondered how to keep it simple. "I just bought a whole new wardrobe, but I could use leotards to help with, ah ... costuming."

"Fine. This way please." She swiftly looked him up and down as they walked. "Big guy, aren't you? I wonder whatr your shoe size is."

"Fourteen extra wide."

The smirk again. If shoe size held any significance in the selection of leotards, she did not let on.

In the dressing room, Gunnar reflected on how much he liked Buffy. She was in many ways potential girlfriend material, but there were aesthetic kinks. If only her face and body were more flattering to her personality ... He shook his head and got on with the selection.

Eventually Gunnar stepped out -- and froze.

"Is everything all right?"

Gunnar wanted to say Yes -- now! His first reflex was to wonder if Buffy had wandered off -- but it was her all right, though her face was sharper and clearer, boosted to loveliness worthy of a model, and her body was softly yet distinctly curvaceous. Even her hair flowed more freely.

As he strove to think, he heard a dark chuckling, as big as thunder but as soft as a breeze.