A journey to the airport, part4

"Uh, sure," Tim says, trying to keep his voice even as he takes the bag. He can't believe the way Beverly has so quickly adapted to Tracy's body, moving with a grace and confidence that was never hers. It's like watching a snake shed its skin, revealing a new creature beneath.

"Thanks, Timmy," she says, patting his cheek with a familiarity that makes him cringe. She struts out of the room, her hips swaying in a way that is definitely not Tracy. She's enjoying this too much, he thinks.

Tim follows her, lugging the suitcase with a grimace. "Could you at least help me with the luggage?" he asks, his voice strained.

Beverly turns around, her smile widening as she watches Tim struggle with the heavy suitcase. "Oh, darling," she says, her voice dripping with sugary sweetness that doesn't quite match the sultry purr she had been using earlier. "You know how I feel about manual labor." She winks, her hand lingering on the door handle of the waiting taxi. "Besides, I'm feeling a bit... delicate today." She slides into the backseat, leaving Tim to deal with the luggage on his own. Her movements are fluid and graceful, a stark contrast to the way she used to shuffle around in her Goth attire. She crosses her legs, the dress riding up slightly to reveal a tantalizing expanse of thigh. She doesn't bother to adjust it, knowing full well that Tim's eyes are glued to the sight. "Don't keep me waiting," she calls out, her tone light and teasing.

Tim grits his teeth, trying not to let his frustration show. He knows she's enjoying this, reveling in the power she's stolen from Tracy. He hefts the suitcase into the trunk, slamming it shut with more **** than necessary. He opens the door and slides into the taxi, his eyes narrowing as he sits next to her. "This isn't funny, Bev," he says through clenched teeth.

"Oh, Timmy," Beverly says, her voice a perfect blend of Tracy's sweetness and her own brand of sarcasm. "You're just not taking this whole 'new me' situation in stride, are you?" She crosses her legs, the sundress riding up even higher, and leans back against the seat, her arms folded beneath her ample breasts. "I mean, look at this body," she says, her eyes glinting with amusement as she watches Tim's gaze flicker down to her thighs. "Tracy works out so much, and you can't even lift a little luggage without breaking a sweat. It's adorable, really." She giggles, a sound that seems to echo in the confined space of the taxi, making Tim's skin crawl. "Maybe you should hit the gym more often," she adds, her voice dripping with fake concern. "You know, for your health."

"Bev, cut it out," Tim snaps, his annoyance palpable. "This isn't funny."

"Oh, lighten up, Timmy," Beverly says, her voice still a perfect Tracy but with a sneer that Tim knows is all her own. She reaches into the bag and pulls out a pair of large, designer sunglasses. She holds the middle finger of her hand up to him, the sunglasses balancing precariously on it. "You're the one who wanted to go to Hawaii," she says, slipping the shades onto her face. "Now, I'm just making the most of it."

"This isn't what I had in mind," Tim says, his jaw tight. He watches as Beverly puts on the sunglasses, effectively hiding her eyes. She's enjoying this way too much.

"Oh, darling," Beverly says, her voice dripping with condescension as she adjusts the sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. "You always did have such a limited imagination." She crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her new breasts up even further. "But don't worry, I'll make sure we both enjoy this little trip. After all, it's not every day I get to be a 'loving' girlfriend." She laughs, the sound grating on Tim's nerves.

"Look, just... don't do anything crazy, okay?" Tim says, his grip on the seat tightening. "We're going to get through this, and then we'll fix it."

"Crazy?" she repeats, her voice a perfect Tracy but with a brittle edge. "I'm just living my best life, Timmy. Besides, what's the harm in a little makeover?" She taps her nails against the window, watching the scenery pass by. "And you know what? I think I'd like to be called 'Tracy' in public from now on. It's only fair, don't you think?"

"Bev, you can't do that," Tim says, his voice firm. "This isn't a game. That's Tracy's body and her name. We need to be respectful and get her back to normal."

"Respectful?" she scoffs, her voice still Tracy's but her tone unmistakably Beverly's. She opens Tracy's purse with a flourish, pulling out the ID. "Look at this," she says, holding it up so Tim can see. "It says 'Tracy.' That means I'm Tracy now. And Tracy," she says, emphasizing the name, "doesn't take no for an answer." She flashes the ID at him, her eyes challenging. "So, unless you want to explain to everyone why your girlfriend has breaked with you before holidays, I suggest you get used to calling me Tracy." She said with a grin.

Tim's eyes widen in horror as he sees Beverly holding Tracy's ID, her smile growing as she watches his reaction. "You wouldn't," he whispers, his heart racing.

"Oh, but I would," she says, her voice a syrupy sweet imitation of Tracy's. She snaps the ID shut and tucks it back into the purse with a smug grin. "After all, who's going to argue with a pretty face and a perfect body?" She leans closer to him, her breath hot against his ear. "Besides, it's not like you can tell anyone the truth without sounding like a lunatic."

The taxi pulls up to the bustling airport, and Tim's anxiety spikes as he realizes the gravity of the situation. He helps 'Tracy' out of the car, trying to ignore the way Beverly's movements are so uncannily similar to his girlfriend's, yet tainted with a wicked glee that is entirely her own.