Four Types of Reactions - By pseudoclever

Act I: Aldehydes and Ketones

It was just after two in the morning, and Zayne's fingers were starting to burn. It was a fairly obvious sign that he should take a break. But he was making such good progress, a rarity on these long nights. Tiny beads of perspiration stood out on his temples as he hunched over, his face inches from the table surface. His white-knuckled hands moved slowly, carefully, as though the fate of the universe hung upon his every gesture. 

Suddenly, his tired muscles gave a little spasm of fatigue. His body jerked, and the pencil in his hand moved a fraction of an inch further than he had intended. The soft feminine face he had been drawing now appeared to sport a jaunty mustache. It was a full three seconds before he reacted. And then with an incoherent roar of frustration, Zayne tore the sheet of paper from his notebook. Spinning, he hurled it toward the trash bin, where it bounced merrily off the rim and came to rest on the floor. 

He sighed. These tables, he decided, were not meant for drawing. They were constructed of a tough epoxy resin, specifically designed to be unreactive in case a careless lab technician should have a chemical spill. The surface was softer than a normal table, and it made his pencil lines look messy and unprofessional. 

Or, he thought, maybe they looked that way because he was trying too hard. 

Zayne shrugged, cracking his knuckles. Abruptly he became aware that he had been humming again. It wasn’t hard to match the pitch of the room’s machinery, and when he did it caused his jaw to resonate with the sound in an oddly comforting way. All the same it was probably not a good habit, and he had been trying to break himself of it lately. 

For the first couple of weeks the endless drone of the equipment had been irritating, almost maddening. Eventually he had gotten used to it. Now, after a few months on the job, Zayne realized that he had come to enjoy the noise. He leaned back for a moment to appreciate it, and at that moment a buzzer sounded behind him. The power began to ebb from the machinery, gradually plunging the room into silence. He sighed again, and stood up. It was time to do his job.

He walked over to the giant industrial centrifuge, its bulk filling one whole corner of the laboratory. It always reminded him of some massive 50’s era robot, especially the way its structure was secured by a number of thick bolts in roughly the shape of a mouth and a pair of eyes. The thing was fully automated: self-loading, self-activating, even self-cleaning. It was not, for the good of Zayne’s paycheck, self-emptying. 

About once an hour the buzzer would go off, and the centrifuge would spin to a stop. Whenever this happened, the room would be enveloped in what he had always felt to be an oppressive quiet. Eighty decibels of noise – according to OSHA, just below the threshold to declare this a hazardous environment – suddenly replaced by only the disconcerting insect buzz of the florescent lights, and the sound of his own heartbeat. As quickly as he could, Zayne would unload the thirty-six test tubes that the machine had been mixing. He would place each one onto a blue plastic tray, pack them in Styrofoam, and carry them over to the refrigerator. There they would wait to be delivered to Product Testing on the fourth floor.

Zayne wouldn't go quite so far as to say that he liked his job. It did, he had to admit, have certain charms. During regular business hours, this lab would be staffed by fifteen or more scientists and technicians. But during the graveyard shift the place was all his, and he enjoyed the solitude. Besides that, it was only on rare occasions that he had to deal with his boss. And best of all, he was only required to spend about ten minutes out of every hour doing anything that could actually be considered work. This left him plenty of time to do with as he wished. 

It hadn't taken him long to get tired of his collection of science fiction and fantasy novels. All of them seemed to follow the same formula. Boy meets girl, girl kidnapped by dragon/alien/hypnotist, boy rescues girl, girl falls for boy, sickeningly sweet ending. How predictable. With reading eliminated, and outside electronic devices against company policy, that left drawing. 

“My terrible, terrible drawing,” Zayne muttered under his breath. No matter how much time he put into the activity, he just didn’t seem to be getting any better. Lately, he had been practicing human figures. They were supposed to be expressible as a collection of geometric shapes, he knew. But whenever he tried to do it this way, they just didn’t look right. Either his ovals were too flat, or his cylinders too narrow, or his rhombuses not quite parallel.

Still in mid-brood, he heard the door to the laboratory open behind him. He turned in surprise, and found his boss standing in the doorway. Whenever Mr. Peterson paid him one of these unannounced visits, Zayne always found himself feeling inexplicably guilty. He knew, intellectually, that he’d done nothing wrong. It was the same sensation he got whenever he drove past a police officer. Even if you were doing the speed limit, you still felt you should slow down a little.

“Working hard, Williams?” the man asked, grinning at him with a calculated warmth.

“You know it, Mr. Peterson,” answered Zayne, trying not to let his unease show on his face. “To what do I owe this…unexpected…pleasure?” 

“Ah, I thought I’d sent you an e-mail to let you know I was coming by. Perhaps it slipped my mind.” He idly straightened his tie. “It seems the company is getting ready to take the next step with PT-2715. Err…this stuff.” He gestured toward the test tubes lying on the desk. 

“Really?” Zayne asked, feigning interest.

“You bet. Our Phase 2 clinical trial went smoothly, and the FDA has given us permission to move on to Phase 3. It's a good thing, too – we've been stockpiling the drug for months now, and it would be a shame if it went to waste. Starting Monday we'll be shipping it all over the country, to thousands of new test subjects.” 

As he spoke, Zayne noticed a little girl standing in the doorway behind Mr. Peterson. It seemed a bit strange for him to have brought his daughter with him to a chemical plant, especially considering the hour. She wore a knee-length black jacket, open at the hip to reveal a sleek red pant suit with a matching handbag slung over her shoulder. Zayne couldn’t help thinking that this outfit looked far too mature for a girl so young. Perhaps she and her father had just come from a party. In any case, she sure was a cutie. Her long brown hair tumbled over her shoulders, and whenever she moved it rippled outward like a breaking wave.

I wonder if her dad enters her in any of those kiddie beauty contests….

Mr. Peterson was still talking. “It’s a big step for us as an organization. If PT-2715 gets approved for sale, it’ll really put Palladian Technologies on the map. Conversely....” He frowned. “If we have any slip-ups at this critical juncture…well, I won’t put that kind of pressure on you. Let’s just say that we all need to bring our A-game, every single day.

“And that brings me to Ms. Lambrie here,” he continued. “We’ve decided to bring her in to work the eight p.m. to five a.m. shift with you.” It took a moment for Zayne to process what he’d just heard. Slowly it dawned on him – the little girl was going to be his new co-worker! But she couldn’t be older than ten or eleven! It took him only a second longer to recognize the glaringly obvious. Her outfit was clearly business casual attire. And now that he looked, he could see the faintest suggestion of a curve to her hips, a little flare in the area of her chest. It was easy to see how he had mistaken her for a child, however. She was so short, well under five feet tall, and not terribly well-endowed either. Maybe without the jacket….

Mr. Peterson cleared his throat. Zayne, realizing he’d been staring, jerked his eyes away from the girl. No, he corrected himself. Woman. He walked across the room, and with only the slightest hesitation held out his hand. “Hi! Zayne Williams. Nice to meet you Ms. Lamberg.”

“It’s, umm…Lambrie,” she said, her voice soft and lilting, and even in the quiet room Zayne had to strain to hear her. “Nice to meet you, too.” 

“Ah, there we are,” Mr. Peterson said. “Now that you two are off on the right foot, I’ll excuse myself. I need to be in the office bright and early tomorrow. Believe it or not, some of us actually sleep at night!” He gave a forced laugh, and with a nod turned and left the room. 

The two of them listened to the echo of the man's footsteps fading away down the hall. They stood together awkwardly, Zayne looking at a spot some inches above and to the left of Ms. Lambrie’s head. She, for her part, seemed to be examining her shoe tops. 

You’re going to have to take charge here, he thought. Come on, say something!

“Well, if you’re going to be working in the lab, I suppose I should show you what we do around here,” Zayne said at last. Ms. Lambrie craned her neck upward, meeting his gaze. It seemed as though there was something she wanted to tell him. But then she looked away again, nodding in agreement.

Zayne lead her over to the table where he had left the half-full tray of test tubes. “So, this job is actually pretty simple. About once an hour, this machine will stop.” He rapped his knuckles on the centrifuge, producing a hollow metallic tone. “When that happens, we open this door, take out all the little vials one by one, and put them in these openings.” He demonstrated. “Want to give it a tray?”

“Umm,” she said. Again it looked as if she had something she wanted to say. But instead, she followed Zayne’s lead, and carefully removed one of the test tubes. Her hand shaking slightly, she placed it into the tray.

“There you go! Not so hard, is it? Anyways, once the tray is full, we carry it over to the refrigerating unit. Tomorrow morning, some of the big-wig sciency-types will come and get it. Or more likely, they’ll send a couple of grunts like us to get it for them.” He chuckled lightly.

Ms. Lambrie smiled through tight lips. “Umm,” she said again.

“That’s pretty much the whole job. I really don’t know why they thought they needed to bring someone else in. The centrifuge has to run for fifty minutes for each batch, and I’ve heard you can’t speed it up. I guess maybe if we work together we can reduce its downtime a bit? Oh well, whatever.

“That's...ahh...that's all I've got. The bathroom is down the hall to the left, and a few doors past that is the employee lounge. Got a couple of vending machines, a microwave, stuff like that. Anything else you want to know?” Zayne asked.

She looked up at him, a tragic expression on her face. “Umm…do you know where they keep the Tollens’ Reagent?”

“I'm...sorry?”

“I need it to check for aldehyde groups in the solution.” She continued, speaking quickly as a deep scarlet spread across her face. “You see, when PT-2715 is synthesized properly, it has a keto group attached in the three prime position of the tertiary carbon ring. I understand that there have been incidences of the active group being an aldehyde, preventing it from bonding with the phenol structure. In this case….” She paused, managing to look, if possible, even smaller than she actually was. “…It can be highly toxic.”

“Oh.” For an excruciatingly long moment they looked at each other, the silence in the room almost a physical object. “I take it you aren’t a test tube jockey like me.”

Ms. Lambrie shook her head sadly. 

“Just out of curiosity, what IS your job title?”

“Director of Materials Analysis.”

Zayne flinched. “Wow, I’m really, REALLY sorry. I just assumed….” 

She smiled, and for the first time he thought he saw her start to relax. “Don’t worry about it. Mr. Peterson WAS a bit vague about what I’d be doing here.” She brushed a few stray locks of hair away from her eyes. “But, about that Tollens’ Reagent….”

“Ah, sorry. I have no idea where they would keep that kind of thing. I’ll help you look for it if you want.”

“Thank you for the offer Mr. Williams, but I’ll find it myself. I should start learning where things are kept anyway.” Ms. Lambrie set her bag down on the desk, and after fishing around inside it for a moment produced a pair of green-tinted safety goggles. With a soft twang from the elastic band, she slipped them over her eyes. “So, I’ll stay out of your way. Just go about your work as if I wasn’t here.”

Zayne nodded in relief, and went back to unloading the centrifuge. It was a task he had done a hundred, or a thousand times before. But this time something felt different, and soon he figured out what it was – the quiet had gone. Ms. Lambrie had brought with her a whole symphony of noises: there was the chirp-chirp of her shoes against the tile floor, the periodic sound of drawers being pulled open and slammed shut again. And beneath it, like the whisper of a ghost, he thought he could just make out the sound of her breathing. 

He removed another test tube, smiling to himself. Perhaps solitude was overrated. 

Chapter Two

Soon his task was complete. Zayne snapped the access panel shut, and heard the faint clink of new test tubes falling into place. A moment later there came a hiss of hydraulic pressure, and once more the room was enveloped by the machine’s steady hum. Sighing, he hefted the tray into his arms and carried it over to the refrigerator. As he set it down to open the big double doors, something brushed against his arm. Startled, he whirled to see Ms. Lambrie standing next to him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you!” she yelled over the cacophony, and pointed at the vials. “Mind handing me one of those?”

“Sure!” He moved to pass her a test tube, but then hesitated. There was something intriguing about Ms. Lambrie, a strange sort of visual dissonance between her goggles and the rest of her face, and for some reason he found it nearly impossible to look away. The glasses were a bit too big for her, and they had a minor distortion effect almost like a fisheye lens. It might have made her appear ridiculous, but Zayne thought that it only served to draw attention to her eyes. They were large and round, and seemed to glow like polished wood. Her skin was a pale, almost porcelain white, and was so smooth that had he seen her on the cover of a magazine, he would have assumed she had been airbrushed. Ms. Lambrie had high cheek bones and a small, slightly upturned nose. She looked, he thought, almost like an elf from one of his fantasy stories – tiny, delicate, and blessed with an otherworldly beauty.

It took Zayne perhaps the space of three heartbeats to make these observations. He was sure, however, that Ms. Lambrie had noticed the pause – and worse, had understood its nature. Pressing the vial into her outstretched hand he turned, feeling his cheeks grow hot, and hurried away. As he moved there came a sound that could possibly have been her calling after him. The room was so loud that he couldn’t be entirely certain, and in any case he didn’t stop to find out. Instead he returned to his desk and, sitting down, opened his sketchbook. 

For a while he could only stare at the blank page before him. When he was finally able to summon up the courage to look in her direction, she was standing with her back to him, absorbed in her work. He clutched at his pencil, trying not to dwell on what had just happened. 

It seemed only moments later that the buzzer sounded, and Zayne felt as well as heard the centrifuge begin to slow down. He blinked, bringing himself out of a deep reverie. It was as though he had been half asleep and, wakened suddenly, remembered only fragments of the dream he had just been lost within. He knew, logically, that at least forty-five minutes had elapsed since he sat down. What had he been doing all that time? The paper in front of him held only.... 

Circles. Circles within circles. Circles attached to other circles. He didn't recall drawing any of them. How strange. He had heard of sleep walking...but sleep-sketching?

Still in a fog, Zayne stood, cracking his neck, and sauntered over to the giant machine. As he did, he couldn’t resist stealing another covert glance at Ms. Lambrie. She was still faced away from him, carefully pouring a small amount of liquid into a tall, thin flask. The woman was forced to stand on her tip toes in order to reach the container's opening high above her. He wondered if she would be offended if he offered to fetch her a step stool.

Suddenly she looked over her shoulder, and caught his eye. He felt an electric jolt shoot through his body as their gazes met, and once more Zayne found himself unable to look away. As he stared, he noticed the way a few wisps of her long brown hair had fallen down over her glasses. How he wanted to reach out and brush them away….

“Mr. Williams?” 

Zayne started visibly. “Yeah, sorry. What can I do for you?” He felt hot blood pounding in his temples – but at least he could move again.

“Do you think you could bring me one of the tubes from that batch you’re unloading?” She smirked at him. “That way I won’t have to chase you down, like last time.” 

Zayne let out a short bark of a laugh, and obediently carried one of the small glass containers over to her. She took it from him, and clamped it into what looked like a tiny plastic-tipped vice. As he watched, his curiosity overcame his self-consciousness. “Mind if I ask what you’re doing? I mean, if you think I would understand it,” he added hastily.

“Sure,” she said, not taking her eyes off her work. “I mentioned earlier that I’m testing for a particular active group on the molecule. I’m trying to make sure that the group is a ketone, and not an aldehyde. Do you know what that means?” 

“Umm…not…as such,” he mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

Ms. Lambrie set down her flask and turned to regard him. “That’s okay. Not many people would. Hm…how can I explain this….” She peered up at Zayne, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. For no reason, he found himself wondering exactly how tall she was. The top of her head was at least an inch below his collar bone, which put her around...four ten? Four eleven, maybe? What was it like to be so short? He wondered if she had been teased in high school. 

Luckily, she began to speak again before this train of thought could get out of hand, and he forced himself back to reality. “Okay, let’s try this. Hold out your hand this way.” She demonstrated, making a fist with her thumb folded over and her index finger extended. He watched, and duplicated her actions. “Good. So, you’re a phenol group. We want you to be attached on the end of the molecule we’re trying to synthesize. That’s the reason why all these tubes are being mixed in the centrifuge. If you manage to combine with the rest of the structure, everything’s great. You’re part of what makes the drug work. With me so far?”

Zayne nodded.

“Good. So let’s say that I’m the primary molecule. We want you to connect to me. The only problem is, my active group is an aldehyde.” As she spoke, she fixed her hand with her thumb pointing upward and forefinger curled back upon itself, as though pulling a trigger. “There’s nowhere for you to grab hold. See?” Ms. Lambrie rapped her knuckle against the tip of his finger. “And that’s bad, because not only does it make the drug not work, but it means that YOU, Mr. Phenol, are just floating around in the solution. And by yourself, you’re a deadly poison.

“But!” she exclaimed, beaming at him. “Let’s say I’m a ketone.” She straightened her index finger, holding her hand the way a child would to mime a gun. “In that case I have an open slot, and so….” She reached out, wrapping her finger around his and pulling firmly. Zayne felt his heart skip a beat. “…we can bond.”

For two wonderful seconds, Ms. Lambrie smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling. Then a dark flush began to creep across her pale cheeks. She released his hand, and turned back to the lab bench. “That’s the general idea, anyway. My finger is a mono-substituted carbon atom and yours is a hydroxyl group. The test I’m doing will positively indicate the presence of an aldehyde – the bad one – by precipitating the metallic cation from the Tollens' reagent.” She spoke quickly now, and Zayne wondered why she had suddenly retreated into her clinical language again.

Determined to build on the ground he had gained, he took a half step forward. “Do you mind if I watch you run the test? It sounds interesting.”

“Sure, I guess. But if everything goes the way it should, it'll be really boring.” She picked up the flask of clear solution she had been working with earlier, then paused. “Actually, do you want to give this a try? You showed me how to do your job, after all. The least I could do is return the favor.” 

“I supposed,” he answered, frowning slightly. “Is it hard?”

“Not this part, no. Just do as I say and you'll be fine.” She stepped out of the way, and with an encouraging look pressed the container into his hand. “Okay, put the lip of the graduated cylinder up against the test tube. I've already measured out ten milliliters of reagent. Pour all of it into the vial of PT-2715...the yellowish stuff. And make sure you don’t spill any.”

He did as she instructed, moving slowly and deliberately. “Good,” she said. “Now, pick up that glass stirring rod resting on the bench, and mix it up a little.” The instant he disturbed its surface, the material took on a lustrous, metallic color. Zayne could see Ms. Lambrie's image reflected within it, distorted like a fun house mirror. 

“Ah, that's definitely a positive test,” she said, disappointed. “The nitrate anion bonded with an aldehyde, and the silver precipitated out of the solution.”

“It's beautiful,” Zayne said, transfixed by the shimmering glass. 

Ms. Lambrie looked at him quizzically. Once more she regarded the test tube, her expression softening. “I...you're right, it is. I've been doing this kind of work for so long, I must have forgotten.” She lifted the container from the bench top, and carefully, almost reverently, poured its contents down the sink.

“Hey! Why did you do that?” Zayne shouted.

She winced. “No...it's not….” Ms. Lambrie held up the emptied vial for him to see. A thin layer of silver remained, coating its surface. “It'll stay like this.” 

Zayne's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to apologize. Before he could speak, she cut him off. “Documented procedure in the case of a positive Tollens’ test is to dispose of the contaminated test tube.” The clinical language again, he thought wryly. But maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand what it meant. “But perhaps, under the circumstances, we can bend the rules.” She offered the shining container up to him, a nervous smile pressed on her lips. “Would you like to have it?”

He blinked. “Y-yes. Yes, I think I'd like that. I'd like that very much.” Not knowing what else to say, he took it from her outstretched hand. He held it above his head, admiring the way it refracted the light. The thing was like a work of art. It made him wonder if he could ever create something so lovely.

By then it was time to go home. Zayne walked back over to his side of the room, and carefully wrapped the silvered test tube in a sheet of paper from his notebook. He packed up his belongings, slipping the vial into his coat pocket. 

Behind him, Ms. Lambrie was pressing a yellow sticky-note with a large “X” drawn on it onto the tray. “It's a bad batch,” she explained, gesturing. “We can't give this stuff to our test subjects; it would kill them. This is to let the clean-up crew know to get rid of it.”

“Oh.”

Pulling off her safety goggles, Ms. Lambrie walked toward the door. Zayne followed. “Well,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Williams. Do you work tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Monday through Friday, rain or shine. And ahh.... thanks again for...you know.” He hesitated, and at last decided to say it. “If you want, you can just call me Zayne. ”

She smiled at him warmly. “You're welcome, Zayne. And please, call me Bella.” 

Chapter 3

Zayne and Bella came to work well together. At first they didn't know quite how to react to each other, and their conversation was forced and awkward. Eventually they were both able to relax, and a budding friendship began to develop between them. This was in spite of the fact that they could only talk for about ten minutes out of every hour, while Zayne was unloading test tubes from the machine. The rest of the time the room was far too loud.

Zayne found himself coming to look forward to these little bursts of socialization more and more with each passing day. Bella was a fascinating woman, and he loved to listen to her talk - provided she didn’t lapse into her complicated mode of speech too often. But it always seemed that, just when things were really starting to get interesting, Zayne would come to the last vial. Whenever this happened, he would shut the centrifuge door, and once again the room would be filled with noise.

After the machine was online again, he would return to his desk in the corner of the room and pull out his sketchpad. Letting his thoughts wander, he would draw whatever came to mind. And every day, it was always the same thing – circles. They were fairly nice, as circles went, but he wished he knew why he was drawing them, and what they meant. 

When Bella had finished running her tests, she would come over to his side of the room and pay him a visit. Although it was too loud for them to talk comfortably, what she had to say could be communicated with one gesture. Either a thumbs up, meaning he should load the batch of serum into the refrigerator, or a thumbs down to let him know there had been another failure. Sometimes, if he didn't observe her approach, she would gently place her hand on his upper arm to get his attention. 

Zayne was becoming much less observant lately.

The Friday after she had been hired, the two of them were passing the time, chatting away idly. Things were going great, until Zayne quite unexpectedly ran out of things to say. Grasping for a topic of conversation, he said the first thing that came to mind. “Hey, just out of curiosity...what does this stuff we’re making DO, anyway?”

Bella stopped what she had been doing, and turned to look at him critically. “How long have you been working here?” she said.

“Ah, three months or so. Why, what does that have to do with anything?”

“And you’re just NOW asking that question? You haven't wondered about what all these vials you've been unloading are FOR?” She rolled her eyes. “I guess it's just a paycheck to some people.”

“Hey, that's not fair,” Zayne protested, trying to keep the indignity out of his voice. “It just hasn't come up before, that’s all. Besides, until a week ago I was here by myself every night, with no one to ask. Well, there's the security guard, but I doubt he'd know anyway.”

Bella seemed to consider this for a moment, pursing her lips. “Alright, I suppose you have a point,” she said. “I'll save you the grief. You really want to know?”

He nodded, putting down the test tube he had been holding and giving her his full attention.

“Okay. Well first, have you ever heard of a condition called Turner's Syndrome?”

“I...it sounds familiar. Maybe I saw a special about it or something when I was a kid. Isn't it some kind of disorder that keeps people from growing up? Like, in Peter Pan?”

“Close. It happens when someone – specifically a female – is born missing a chromosome. Most girls have two X's, you see. But women with Turner's Syndrome have only one. There are quite a few negative consequences, as you might imagine. Heart problems, diabetes. And they tend to be...short, and to not develop secondary sexual characteristics.”

The way she paused before the word ‘short’ caught his attention. Zayne had enough tact not to investigate the matter further. “So what? Does this stuff fix the problem by giving them an extra chromosome?” he said instead.

“Ah, if I remember, it's actually way simpler than that. Hold on, I have the brochure here somewhere.”

“Brochure?” he asked incredulously. “The drug has a BROCHURE?”

“You better believe it,” she answered, digging through her handbag. “The pharmaceutical industry is ALL about making money. You get doctors to prescribe it, you get parents of children with the disorder to ask for it, whatever. That's capitalism, kid. Ah-ha!” she pulled out a crumpled pamphlet, holding it up triumphantly. 

Bella began to read, her voice comically puffy and official. “PT-2715 is a breakthrough drug currently in development by the good people at Palladian Technologies. It is intended to treat the developmental symptoms most often associated with Turner's Syndrome, as well as late onset maturity in females due to genetic and other factors. 

“Taking advantage of cutting edge research in neuroscience, PT-2715 acts upon GnRH receptor sites in the brain, using non-competitive enzymatic action to cause rapid hormone release. In addition, the medication separately targets each organ in the endocrine system, allowing for quick uptake and utilization by the body. The result is the stimulation of the natural growth and development process in females, safely, reliably, and several hundred times faster than by any other method currently available. Side effects include blah blah blah, yachety-schmackety.” Bella snorted in disgust, and threw the document down on the table.

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” she sneered. “It isn't actually a CURE. It's just a band-aid. A twenty-dollar-a-pill, non-insurance-covered band-aid. Well, doesn't THAT just brighten my day.”

“At least it's something,” Zayne said, his voice barely above a whisper. He had never seen Bella angry before, and until then hadn't even considered it a possibility.

“Something?! Yeah, it's something alright! 'Don't fret ladies. You'll still have a terminal heart condition, hypothyroidism and be on kidney dialysis before your sixteenth birthday. But at least now you'll have BOOBS!'” She glared at him, daring him to disagree.

“I'll admit, this isn't anything close to the answer these people must be hoping for,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “But it's....” He struggled, trying to find the words. “…morphine.”

Her scowl dissolved into a look of begrudging curiosity. “What?”

“Have you ever had someone you were close to die? I mean, from a long drawn out illness, or old age. Not something sudden.”

She thought about it for a moment. “There aren’t that many…no, no I haven’t. Why, where are you going with this?”

“When I was eight, maybe nine years old, my grandmother got sick. I loved her. She was always so nice to me. Baked me cookies when I came to visit, took me to the movies. Nothing special, you know, grandma stuff. But it means a lot when you’re so young.

“Anyway, she had lung cancer. It was all those years of smoking, I suppose. To this day, whenever I smell Benson and Hedges Menthol, I think of her. My parents didn’t bother explaining the situation to me, not until I was much older. She was in her late eighties, and at that age there’s really no fighting against any serious kind of cancer. If it doesn’t kill you, the chemo will. So the doctors put her on a morphine drip. Put a button right in her hand, and if she was hurting she could press it and get a fix. It…made her comfortable. She got a few more weeks to be with her family, and then….” He trailed off, trying to keep some distance between himself and the memory.

“When they give you control of the morphine like that, they have a reason. You’re going to die soon enough anyway, and if you want, you can just keep pressing that button until your heart stops. That’s what happened.

“So, this is what I’m getting at,” he said, smiling at her unconvincingly. “Let’s say you’re one of these girls with Turner’s Syndrome. You know you’re going to die one way or another, probably soon. And there’s no real treatment. If it bothers you, looking like a little kid, at least you can do something about THAT. Maybe, I don’t know, have some fun before you go. That sounds stupid, but….” He flailed for a way to bring his point home.

“I understand what you're getting at,” she said slowly. “And I'm sorry about your grandmother. But with all due respect, it's really not the same thing. There's a huge difference between intense physical agony, and just being under-developed. God, what the company is trying to DO with this snake oil!” She stamped her foot angrily.

“Jesus, calm down,” he snapped. “Why the hell are you taking this so personal?” The moment the words left his mouth he knew the answer, and he wished he had known when to shut up.

“Isn’t it obvious? Look at me!” She waved her hands over her slight frame. “I’m practically a fucking midget. I’ve got next to no curves, and when I go bra shopping I have to head straight to the pre-teen section. They're trying to treat a condition that is essentially ME!”

“But wait a second. The description of the drug said that it works on women who haven’t matured for reasons other than Turner’s Syndrome. You could take it if you wanted.”

Bella’s eyes flashed, and the word 'hellfire' came unbidden to Zayne’s mind. “No, you don’t get it! There’s nothing wrong with me! I'm perfectly...I'm....” She sputtered incoherently for a moment, too overcome with rage to speak. 

It took her only a fraction of a second to compose herself. “It has become painfully obvious that this conversation has become unprofitable, Mr. Williams,” she said, her voice empty of all emotion. “I suggest you complete your task, which has already remained unattended for far longer than is advisable. I will do the same. If I have need of your services, I will call for you.”

The clinical language again. It had been days since she had felt it necessary to bring that out against him. 

He sighed. “If that's what you want. Let me know if I should load this batch.” She didn't respond. He went back to work, and finished emptying the centrifuge. Zayne closed the door, glad that its reassuring hum would soon blot out the oppressive silence that had filled the room. Slowly, he made his way back to his desk. He picked up his pencil, and sat for a long time tapping it rhythmically against the pad.

It seemed that the last thing on his mind was drawing, however. Over and over the scene replayed itself in his head. Why had he pushed her like that? Why hadn't he apologized? Besides those paltry regrets, there was something that didn't sit quite right with him. Bella had said that she wasn't bothered by her height. But she had sounded so angry when she described her body. And the way she exploded when he had merely suggested the POSSIBILITY that she could take the drug.

Zayne spent the whole machine cycle pondering the situation. When the buzzer sounded, he had yet to even touch pencil to paper. He stood, trying not to think about his wasted hour, and went to empty the device. Bella was still resolutely facing away from him, a rigid set to her shoulders. Easy enough to interpret that body language. The most recent tray was still sitting on the counter where he had left it, now marked with an “X” scrawled in her handwriting. Apparently she hadn't bothered to come over and tell him the batch was a dud. 

He worked quickly, and after packing away thirty-five test tubes he carried the thirty-sixth over to Bella. She flinched slightly as he set it down next to her, but otherwise gave no sign that she had noticed him. 

So that's how it's going to be. Well, screw her too, then. 

He went back to the centrifuge, and slammed the door shut angrily. Hurrying over to his chair, he snatched up his pencil and immediately began to draw. No more sitting around brooding, he thought. This time I'm going to make it count. 

Start with a rough outline...make it more of a rectangle than a circle. Good start. Two long cylinders coming from the bottom are legs, and the feet are ovals coming toward my perspective. Hey, this isn't turning out too bad. Above the rectangle, now we need a circle. Squeeze it at the bottom, there, that makes a nice jawline. More circles, ears and eyes, and some marks for an early version of the hair. Smooth lines, from the ears to the shoulders are your neck....

Zayne continued to draw, his attention focused like a laser beam on the most minute details of his work. He forgot his troubles, the aching of his hands, the room around him. The whole of creation was filled with nothing but his paper, his pencil, and himself. The picture was almost done...just a few more lines....

An explosive crash echoed throughout the room – the sound of breaking glass, a hallow plastic THUMP, and above it all a high-pitched shriek of surprise. Before he had consciously willed himself to do so, Zayne jumped to his feet. Bella was nowhere to be seen, but he thought he knew where the noise had come from. He ran past the isles of desks, turned a corner, and froze.

There was an overturned blue tray, shards of broken glass, and everywhere the sheen of a thick, yellowish liquid. In the midst of the wreckage was Bella. She was on her back, her hands clenched into fists, her goggles askew. And in her eyes there was a look of raw animal panic, the like of which he had never seen before in his life.

Chapter 4

“Are you okay?” Zayne asked, trying to keep his voice even while simultaneously speaking loud enough to be heard over the machine. Bella's lips moved, but he couldn't understand what she was saying. He moved closer, kicking some of the glass out of the way, and kneeled down next to her. “Bella, are you okay? Did you get any of it on you?”

He could just barely make out her voice. “I...I tried to carry...too heavy....”

When he had first been hired at Palladian, Zayne had been required to watch a boring safety video as part of his orientation. He had spent much of the presentation in a half-doze, and so he was surprised to find that he remembered what it had said now in this moment of crisis. If she had been exposed to the chemical, she would have to wash it off as soon as possible. 

He needed an answer from her, and he needed it now. Snapping his fingers in her face to get her attention, he asked again, louder this time. “Bella! Did you get any of the solution on you?” She gaped at him. Then her face fell. She nodded. 

“It's okay,” he said, attempting to radiate an aura of calm. “We need to get you to the shower. Are you okay to walk?” He held out his hand to her. She looked at it for a moment, uncomprehending. Bella was clearly in shock, either from the fall, or perhaps from fear of what exposure to the drug could do to her. 

“Please Bella. We need to hurry. Come on!” She blinked twice, and looked up into his eyes. A tiny, thin smile crossed her lips. She reached out, and at last took his hand. He helped her to her feet, and led her across the room. 

“Okay, I'll go clean up the spill. Strip down and get in the shower,” he told her.

“Are you serious?!” she exclaimed. “I'm not getting naked in here! There's no shower curtain, and....”

Zayne cut her off. “We don't have time for this. You need to get ALL of that stuff off of you, and if you stay dressed some of it will cling to the fabric of your clothes.” He looked at her sympathetically. “It sucks, I know. But you've had safety training too, and you know I'm right. This is more important than modesty. And I promise I won't look.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but evidently thought better of it, and began to unbutton her top instead. Zayne obligingly turned his back, going to look for a broom and dust pan. A few moments later he heard the splatter of water hitting the floor, followed shortly thereafter by a yelp of surprise. “Oh my GOD it's COLD!” she cried.

“I'll bet,” he shouted back. He swept up the broken glass, careful to keep his eyes fixed on his work. Zayne mopped up the residual solution as best he could, and threw it into the Haz-Mat bin. It occurred to him that Bella would need to cover and dry herself after she left the shower, and that there were no towels in the room. Next to the room's fire extinguisher there was a large nylon envelope hanging on the wall, and inside he found two emergency fire blankets. They were woolen and scratchy, but they would have to do. 

He carried them over to the centrifuge's exhaust port, from which a steady stream of hot air was coming. Zayne lay one blanket down and carried the other over to Bella. “Here,” he said, shielding his eyes. The water stopped, and a moment later he felt her pull the blanket from his grasp. Teeth chattering, she followed him to the spot he had prepared. They sat down together, Bella clutching the blanket tight around her and vigorously rubbing herself dry.

“Listen, I wanted to tell you....” He began. She looked at him, shaking her head, and he realized that she couldn't hear him over the machinery. Zayne leaned in closer, rising to his knees and putting his mouth inches from her ear. “Bella, look. What I said earlier. I didn't mean to imply that there was anything wrong with you. I just...you sounded like you were saying you hated being short. And I took it the wrong way. You're right, there's nothing wrong with you, at all. You're attractive, and so smart, and....” He realized he was rambling. “It's...I'm sorry, okay?”

For a long time Bella didn't say anything. She continued to stare straight ahead, arms folded, and Zayne began to wonder if he had just made another critical mistake. What was she thinking about? Should he apologize for his apology? Finally she turned to stare at him, and when she did there was a strange sort of smoldering to her eyes.

“How do I look?”

The words were so unexpected that it took Zayne several seconds before he was able to discern their meaning. “Umm....”

“You remember the pamphlet, don't you? PT-2715 is supposed to work 'hundreds of times faster' than anything currently available. I don't know how it's supposed to be administered, if it even CAN be absorbed through the skin. But if it does work that way, I bet I'd already be showing signs.” She stood quickly, the blanket flapping up provocatively as she moved, and Zayne got a momentary glance at her naked bottom. He averted his eyes, ALMOST as soon as he was aware of what was happening. 

Bella turned around, looking down at him expectantly. “Well?”

Zayne climbed to his feet. Crossing his arms, he studied the petite girl in front of him, pacing around her slowly. It occurred to him that this was the first time that he'd been able to take a good long look at Bella's figure without having to worry about her catching him staring. God, was she ever beautiful. Her long hair tumbled down over her shoulders, little wet strands of it clinging alluringly to the sides of her face. She still had the blanket wrapped around her, but not nearly so protectively tight as she'd worn it earlier. As a result, a fair portion of her body was exposed – specifically, parts that coworkers did not generally let each other see. He tried hard not to look, but then a thought occurred to him. If PT-2715 promoted sexual development, wasn't that exactly the sort of place he was SUPPOSED to be checking? Maybe...for just a second. 

Zayne had previously surmised that Bella wasn't especially well-endowed. Clearly, he had misjudged – she might at least be a small B-cup. Several inches of her cleavage were visible, framed by the slightest hint of a tan line around the edges of her bosom, perfectly juxtaposing the pale, creamy flesh it outlined. As he examined her, she shifted the blanket, revealing another few millimeters of her breasts to him. Providence? An accident? Or was she playing with him? 

He looked away, embarrassed, and his gaze come to rest on her legs. Here again his first impression had been wrong – they appeared long, toned and shapely. He guessed that she must have spent a good amount of time on a StairMaster to get that build. While he inspected them she bounced on her tip toes once, twice, and as she did he could see her muscles bunching and flexing. 

Now it was becoming obvious – she WAS playing with him. Zayne glanced up to see if he could scry any meaning from her expression. He found her looking right back at him, a faint smile that was almost a smirk on her lips. “Well?” This time she didn't speak the word but instead mouthed it slowly, seeming to emphasize every letter. 

Zayne gulped. The answer to her question had been plain to see from the moment he'd stood up – it was useless to pretend any longer. He leaned down close to her ear again, noting that he didn't have to lean quite so far this time. “I'm sorry I have to tell you this,” he said. “But yes, it does look like you've been affected by the drug. You're...” he coughed. “...more...developed. And even with your shoes off you seem to be three or four inches taller than you were before.” 

Bella's frowned. “That's...oh well. I thought that was the case but...thanks for the confirmation.” 

Now THAT was an interesting response. Zayne had been expecting her to be devastated, especially given the way she had responded earlier to even the implication that she could try the drug. But her reaction was closer to that of someone who has just been told by a waitress that they will have to settle for Pepsi instead of Coke.

From across the room the buzzer sounded, and the centrifuge began to spin to a stop. They stood together for a long moment in the unexpected silence, just looking at each other. At last Bella sat down and, with a little tug on his hand, indicated that he should do the same. He did so, impossibly conscious of the fraction of an inch of space between the two of them, and of the jackhammer pounding of his heart. Surely she could hear it, and would tell him to quiet down any second now.

“I over-reacted,” she said suddenly. “When I blew up at you earlier, I mean. You didn't say anything that a reasonable human being wouldn't have. I just...chose to take it the wrong way. You aren't the one that should be apologizing. It's me.”

Zayne started to speak. Bella looked at him sadly, and held up one finger. “Please, don't talk. Just listen. I've...never told this to anyone before, and it's hard. 

“All my life, I've been much shorter than everyone my age. It wouldn't have bothered me. Except for that tiny, vocal minority of kids. The ones that, for whatever reason, are only happy when they're hurting other people. The things they said...and did.” She shook her head, as if trying to banish the dark thoughts.

“So, I made up my mind. If I was going to be smaller, weaker than everyone else, then I would make up for it by being smarter than them all. I would be the BEST. If you think I'm intelligent, it's only because I've worked so hard. Anyone could do it, if they were willing to spend fourteen hours a day, seven days a week studying. Memorizing codon tables. Reaction sequences. And maybe it was all so I could fill my brain up so full that I wouldn't have room to think about anything else.

“It worked, too. For a long time. If you had asked me yesterday, I would've told you that it didn't bother me. Being little. Or flat. It was just...me.” She looked at him, her eyes hard like agates. “But...I hated it. I hated it! Why did I have to use a booster seat until I was twelve years old? Or listen to complete strangers ask if I was lost, if I needed help finding my mommy? Why couldn't I be normal?” Bella gasped once, her body shuddering. She clenched her fists, as though trying to hold back the tide of emotion that was swelling inside her. 

Zayne didn't think. He reached out to her instinctively, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tight. For a fraction of a second she pulled away, and then she was hugging him back, burying her face in his chest. He clutched her against him, gently stroking her hair. She was warm, and she smelled good, like strawberries. “I didn't want to admit it,” she continued, her voice muffled. “That I wished things were different. But then, THIS happened. I could FEEL myself growing, and I couldn't deny how...how good it felt. To be bigger, and stronger and...sexier. And I loved it when you were looking at me like that. I wanted to show off for you...show you that I was better than before.”

“It doesn't matter,” he told her softly. “From the first time I looked into your eyes, I knew that there was something special about you. You aren't any better than you were before. Because,” he breathed, lifting her chin with his finger. “...to me, you were already perfect.” 

He had time to see her anguished face dissolve into an expression of joy, to see her eyes sparkle brilliantly. Then she was pressing herself forward, and before he could react Bella was kissing him.

Chapter 5

Her lips were wet and velvety soft, and Zayne had the momentary impression that his whole body was being immersed in a bath of hot oil. He had hoped, had prayed that this moment would come to pass. Now that it was actually happening, he almost didn't know what to do. He touched her cheek hesitantly, as much to caress her as to reassure himself that she was really there, that this wasn't some wonderful dream. Bella mewed happily, and brushed the tips of her fingers along the length of his arm. He felt a trail of goosebumps spring up where she had been. 

For some reason, Zayne found being this close to Bella to be oddly disorienting. It was as though he had a kind of mental picture of her within his mind, and now, thanks to her sudden growth, that picture was just slightly off. Her waist was a fraction of an inch wider than he expected, mouth a bit larger. It was a strange feeling, but overall he decided he liked it: the change added a level of wonderful surreality to the moment. There was, however, a small consequence – when Zayne moved to rest his hand on her shoulder, he ended up touching her someplace slightly lower, and much jigglier, than he had intended. 

Bella seemed to be generally pleased by the accident.

She was kissing him harder now, more fiercely. Zayne responded by tracing a smooth line around the edges of her lips with his tongue. Bella moaned, then abruptly placed her hands on his hips, and with a slight push moved herself away from him. 

“Wuah?” Zayne objected.

“I'm still REALLY cold from that shower,” she explained, a mischievous look in her eye. “Have you...ah...ever been camping?”

He blinked, a little surprised by the non-sequitur of a question. “A couple of times, when I was young,” he replied quickly, determined not to be out-maneuvered.

She folded her hands in front of her face, a gesture that was both endearingly innocent and frighteningly seductive. “Well, in survival situations, what you're supposed to do is....”

“Body heat,” he interrupted, catching on.

Bella raised her eyebrows, and then her face broke out in a grin. “Bright boy.”

“You know, you could've just said 'take your shirt off,'” he laughed, undressing.

“Sure, but where's the fun in that?” she growled. The moment Zayne had finished removing his clothes she bounded into his lap, wrapping her legs around his midsection. She did not, he noted, feel especially cold. All the same, he pulled the blanket tight around the two of them and hugged her body close against his, feeling the supple mounds of her naked breasts pressing against him. She nuzzled him softly, and once more planted her lips firmly on his. This time the kiss was slower, more serious. 

The two of them slid to the floor, clutching desperately at each other. Zayne cracked his eyes open and found Bella staring back at him, her face adoring. Her eyes were unfocused and slightly glazed, almost as if she were intoxicated. Just like the first time he had looked into them, those eyes had him ensnared. Before, being unable to look away carried a tremendous burden of guilt. But now, being caught this way was the greatest ecstasy he could imagine.

Her body was writhing against him, her movements growing more and more frantic. Bella's hands were working their way past his shoulders, down his sides. She took hold of his ass, squeezing it between her fingers and groaning softly through their kiss. It was all great, but Zayne wasn't sure how much longer he should allow this to continue. Bella was, after all, a girl that he had strong feelings for, even though they had met so recently. Something about just jumping into the sack with her this way seemed...wrong? In any case, if they kept going like this he would quickly pass the point of no return. And from the fire burning behind her eyes, it was perfectly clear that Bella was willing to go to that point, and to destinations beyond.

She seemed to sense something of his reservation. “It's okay Zayne,” she purred, giving him a doleful, almost pleading look. “Don't be afraid of me. I know you're shy. But I need this right now. So, come on. Please. Touch me...wherever...you want.” As she spoke her hot breath fell upon him, and her hands slipped even lower. 

He was tempted. Lord, he was tempted. She was so beautiful, her body was so close. Bella was rhythmically thrusting herself against him, weakening his resolve. There was the sensation of a slick wetness spreading along his thigh where she had passed. And...her transformation. That was enticing as well, for reasons that he couldn't quite explain. If he closed his eyes he could almost see it...Bella growing taller, her breasts larger, her hips curvier, her butt more shapely. How easy it would be to just give in.

Zayne sighed. “Please, please don't take this the wrong way. I like you. I REALLY like you. But, this is all happening so fast. Here we are, rolling around together on the laboratory floor....”

“If you're worried about getting caught on tape....” she answered, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“No, it isn't that. And anyway, there are no cameras in this room.” He rubbed his eyes, trying to get his thoughts straight. “Bella, I've never met a girl like you before. You make me feel happy every day when I come in to work. Even when we don't get to talk, just being in the same room with you makes me feel like the luckiest guy in the world. This,” he said, placing his hand on her bare shoulder, “...is amazing. And I want it too. But I also want more. I want to know you, to be with you, to find out who you really are. Because, if this turned out to be some meaningless fling, well...I....”

She placed the tip of her finger on his lips, silencing him. “There is one thing about you that I already know,” she said, her voice cold. “You like to play the hero. The knight in shining armor. You're so gallant it makes me want to puke.” She glared at him, and climbed to her feet. Zayne got an excellent view of her assets as she did so, and for a moment he wondered if he hadn't just made a terrible mistake.

Bella stooped over, and after once more wrapping herself in a blanket she shoveled his pants across the floor to him. “What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked, her tone warning him that the wrong answer could be fatal.

“Nothing important,” he answered nonchalantly.

Bella walked over to Zayne's desk, her hips swaying in a way that was almost painfully inviting. She moved to rip a piece of paper out of his sketchbook, but suddenly paused. “This...this is....” She was silent for a long moment. Then she bent down and, with an air of quiet contemplation, wrote something on the page. “Tomorrow. Pick me up tomorrow, at my place. I wrote down the address. Ten o'clock, okay?” She smiled at him, her expression far kinder than it had been a moment before.

“How about nine?”

She considered it for a moment. “Nine thirty.”

“Deal.” Bella crossed the room, and offered Zayne her hand. They shook, and she helped him to his feet. 

He looked down at her, and did a double-take. “Hey...not to upset you or anything, but I think you might be just a bit taller than you were the last time I, uh, checked you out.”

“Oh?” she replied, and he thought he saw a little twinkle in her eyes.

“Yeah. You were, what, about four ten, four eleven when you came in today?”

“Four nine,” she answered impatiently. “And now...?”

“Well, I'd say you were maybe five two as recently as fifteen minutes ago. You're at least an inch taller than that now.”

“How...interesting. Well if I recall, PT-2715 has a half-life of about ten minutes in the human body. That means I could keep growing, albeit very slowly, for the next hour or so.”

Zayne's eyes widened. “Are you...okay with that?”

Bella smiled wistfully. “To be honest, it's kind of exciting...who knows how much taller I'm going to get?” She turned, and glanced at the clock. “Holy CRAP, it's almost five a.m.! The janitors are going to be in here soon, and I'm still butt-naked. Okay...ah...” She held two fingers to the side of her head, thinking quickly. “We need to deal with the batch that finished while we were...talking. My clothes are ruined...tell you what. Grab me one of the vials so I can test it, and then see if you can find something for me to wear. Maybe in one of those drawers.”

Zayne nodded. He opened the guard plate, retrieving a test tube, and placed it on the rack where Bella usually worked. 

It took him five minutes of searching the room before he finally came upon a white lab coat. The outfit might be a little revealing, especially in the back, but it would have to do. By that time Bella had finished running the experiment, and had even managed to do his job for him and empty the centrifuge. “These are all okay,” she said. “Go ahead and load it up.”

“Sure you don't want to give it another try?” he asked playfully, passing her the coat. “You might even be able to do it this time. Since you're, you know....”

“Bigger? Stronger?” She grinned at him impishly. “I probably could at that. But let's not risk it. I mean, what if I accidentally spilled even MORE of that stuff on myself?” 

Laughing, he hefted the tray into his arms and carried it to the refrigerator. “Well, I guess that's that,” he said. “Want me to walk you to your car?”

He turned around, and saw that she was already standing in the doorway. “Let's not spoil the moment. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all.”

“Interesting choice of words,” he observed.

Bella smiled. “Tomorrow,” she said, blowing him a kiss. And then she was gone. 

Zayne walked over to his desk and began to pack up. When he came to the notebook, he looked at the address she'd written there. He read it over and over, memorizing it, just in case. Then he saw what else was on the paper, and he gasped.

“The circles,” he whispered. 

The same circles he'd been drawing for the past several days were represented on the page before him. They had formed the outline of the human figure he'd been sketching earlier. It was the best one he had ever produced, hands down. And he realized now that, as hard as he'd been concentrating on his mechanics, he hadn't even been aware of what he'd been drawing. 

“I think that, just maybe, things are going to get better,” Zayne said to no one in particular, a serene smile on his face. He carefully slipped the portrait of Bella into a folder. As he left the room, he noticed that he was humming again. But maybe that wasn't such a terrible vice after all.

-------------------------------------Reaction Complete---------------------------------------

Chapter 3

Bella was wearing an impossibly tight red negligée, with flimsy straps that left a huge portion of her arms and chest bare. It had clearly been form-fitting even when she had been a diminutive four foot nine, and it was a minor miracle that she had managed to squeeze herself into it now. Most of the gown was constructed of a thin, transparent mesh. In certain places – namely in the spots where a bra and panties would have been – it was thick enough to protect her dignity. But since it was meant for a much smaller girl, it was doing a rather poor job in both places. He couldn't QUITE see her naughty bits, but the tiny amount of coverage they had only made him want to look all the harder.

Bella was laying on her side, giving him an excellent view of the hourglass curve of her body in profile. Her head was propped up one arm, and she was smirking at him bemusedly. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. The nightie stretched dangerously as she moved, looking as though it might give way at any moment. 

“Now then,” she began. “As I recall, you didn't want to take things too far yesterday in the lab. You told me that you didn't know me well enough, that you didn't want to rush things. I assume that nothing has changed since then. After all, one day isn't nearly enough time to get to know someone properly.” These last words ended with the tiniest hint of a rise in tone, making it sound as if the sentence might, just might, be a question.

“Well, under ordinary circumstances I would say you were right,” he answered nonchalantly. “But we've been able to spend a lot of quality time together today. Biographies have been exchanged. Lessons have been learned. I'm confident in saying that, as of this moment, I know you pretty well.”

“Oh, is that a fact?” Bella asked. She rose to her feet, her body rippling beneath the skin-tight nightie. “Would you care to enlighten me then?”

He would have to play this just right. “Certainly. First off, I know that you're a remarkable woman: intelligent, funny, gorgeous. You have a quirky, off-beat sense of humor, one that I have to say I enjoy.”

She took a small step closer to him. “Generic, but acceptable. Go on.”

“You're also extremely complicated, with hidden depths. You have a great sense of aesthetics, a first in any scientist I've ever met, and another thing I find unbearably attractive. You're also a very shy person until you get to know someone, but you open up quickly once you do. I'm the same way.”

Bella smiled brightly, and rewarded him with another step. “So far so good.” She covered her face with the palms of her hands. “What color are my eyes?”

Zayne snorted. “I could've told you that the first day we met. They're a beautiful dark brown, and when you're happy they sparkle like diamonds.” She pulled her hands away. “There, you're sparkling now.”

“What else?” she said, taking a giant stride forward.

He hesitated. “You...you've been hurt by someone. Someone who was very close to you, who you cared about very deeply. They said...or maybe did something. And it's a wound that's never entirely healed.” He looked at her solemnly. “I won't do that to you. Ever. I swear on my life, I could never cause you pain.”

There was a flicker of something dark behind her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by an expression of supremest joy. Another step. Now they were only inches apart, so close that Zayne could smell the mouthwash on her breath. And there was something...something different about her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.... 

“What do you know about nuclear fusion?” she asked with a straight face.

He made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a cough. “Oh come on! Fair play!”

She grinned. “Okay, okay. I'll just tell you then, shall I? Fusion happens when two atoms of hydrogen get so close together that they join, or fuse, to create one helium atom. This releases an incredible amount of heat energy.” She spoke in a deep, sensual tone. Zayne thought it was the weirdest pillow talk he had ever heard – but still, terribly effective. And still the question nagged at the back of his mind. What had changed with Bella in the last ten minutes? It almost looked like....

“The remarkable thing about fusion,” she continued, her voice lilting musically, “is that both atoms of hydrogen are positively charged. They should repel each other. But forces far more powerful than either of them conspire to bring them closer, and closer.” He was sure of it now. She was taller! Bella had grown perhaps three quarters of an inch since they had arrived home. He should tell her what was happening...warn her...he really should....

Bella moved even closer to him, so close that her face filled his entire field of vision. “And once they come together like that,” she whispered, “no force in the universe can keep them apart.”

They fused. 

At first they moved slowly, savoring every moment of the experience. Zayne leaned down and, with a sigh of contentment, let his lips brush lightly against hers. She kissed him back. As she held him, there was the faint, unmistakable sensation of her body sliding upwards against his. He forced himself not to think about it, about what it surely meant. Instead, he lovingly stroked her face, looking deep into her eyes. If he could just focus his awareness on her, and not on what was HAPPENING to her....

It worked, perhaps too well. The touch of her body beneath his fingertips was driving him into a kind of frenzy. He raked his fingernails down her arms, finding them smooth and surprisingly strong. From there he travelled down toward the small of her back, and on to the generous curve of her backside. He squeezed it through her nightie, and she moaned softly, intensifying their kiss. With a little flick of his wrist he moved the thin layer of fabric out of his way, and reached down to take hold of her naked bottom. Bella gave a tiny squeak of approval. He spent a few moments pinching and rolling her firm ass while she writhed against him. 

After a while he broke their kiss, and took a step backward. Bella looked at him with a dazed, slightly irritated expression on her face. “What now? If you're about to tell me that you aren't ready again, I swear to God....”

Zayne laughed. “Believe me, you don't have to worry about THAT anymore.” It was taking a great deal of effort not to notice how much she had grown, how he barely had to look down at all anymore to meet her eyes. “I'm just looking for a change of position, is all. See, from here, pressed right up against you, all I can reach is your backside. It's a nice backside and all, but I really think I'd rather be touching your...frontside.” He looked at her chest suggestively, raising his eyebrows.

She smiled gloatingly. “Oh really? Well, I don't suppose I can blame you. They are rather nice.” Bella rested the palms of her hands just below her neck, and slowly dragged them down to cover her breasts. Quite deliberately, she began to fondle herself. “They're so big...at least a D cup, wouldn't you say? And that serum....” She paused, letting out a little mew of pleasure. “...has made them REALLY sensitive.”

Zayne moved behind her, enfolding her in his arms. “How interesting,” he growled. “Let's see if we can't take advantage of that.” He placed his hands on her hips, and lazily worked his way higher, over the curve of her waist, across to her stomach. Bella was breathing faster now, her eyes clenched shut. Zayne began to draw large circles on her with his fingertips, from the base of her ribs to the edge of her collar, and back down again. With each pass the circles were becoming smaller, bringing him closer and closer to the generous swell of her bosom. 

As hard as he might try, it was impossible for him to miss now – Bella was definitely still growing. She had gained at least two inches of height in the past few minutes, and as far as he could tell it was still happening. How much longer could he allow this to go on? The right thing to do, obviously, was to stop and let her know what was happening. But his hormone-addled brain fought against this course of action – if she knew what was happening, she would want to postpone their romantic interlude, wouldn't she? And besides that, there was still a mysterious, lingering appeal in the thought of Bella slowly growing taller, her body expanding in every direction, becoming stronger, sexier. It was just so hopelessly erotic. 

Meanwhile, Bella was practically sobbing in frustration. “Please...you...you have to....” Zayne realized that while he had been debating with himself, he had been inadvertently teasing her this entire time. With one last flourish he closed the circle, and took hold of the firm mounds of her breasts while simultaneously planting a hot, wet kiss on the tender skin at the nape of her neck. Bella let out an explosive sigh of relief, and let herself lean back against him. 

He began to move faster, pinching her tits between his thumb and forefinger and tugging against them gently. At the same time one of his hands was creeping down her side, making its way toward the frilly bottom of her nightie. It was riding even higher on her now – still more evidence of her continuing growth. He delicately stroked her inner thigh with the tips of his fingers for a moment, making sure she knew what was coming. And then he deliberately slipped the tip of his index finger under her gown. As slowly as he could, he brushed along the damp outer edge of her womanhood. Bella cried out, arching her back, and Zayne thought he could actually feel her body surging larger against him.

And that was all her outfit could take. There came the sudden sound of ripping fabric, and a huge tear appeared in the negligée just above her stomach. She gasped, and the swelling of her chest caused the hole to grow wider. Bella pulled free from his embrace and turned to look at him, a guilty expression on her face. She gaped open-mouthed at Zayne, and then down at her ruined outfit. 

“I'm...I'm really sorry, Bella,” he said. “I should've told you earlier. You started growing again. I was just so excited, and...God, I was being selfish. We should....”

His words were cut off as she dove forward, planting a savage kiss on his lips. “I know,” she told him. “I knew. The whole time. And I'm sorry that I didn't tell YOU. But don't you remember what I said last night? This is what I want.”

“But...but that was yesterday, when you were, what, five foot three?” he sputtered. “You've got to be getting close to five nine by now, almost a foot taller than your natural height. And you're STILL growing! You're OKAY with this?”

She sighed, and when she looked at him her expression was almost pitying. “Zayne, do you know what the average height is for a woman?” He shook his head. “It's about five feet, five inches tall. I've spent my entire adult life being four nine, eight whole inches shorter. That wasn't FAIR.

“But now I've been given this incredible gift – I'm actually GROWING. And if there was any justice in the universe, don't you think it would be only FAIR if I was to be, say, eight inches TALLER than average? Six foot one?” She grinned at him hungrily. “You said I'm close to five foot nine, right? Well, that just means I still have about four more inches to go, by my count.”

Zayne considered her words. What she was saying made so much sense. Hadn't he told her himself, just yesterday, that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her when she had been short? If that was true, how then could there be anything wrong with her if she were big? And if she was happy with this sudden, unexpected surge of growth....

That brought up another issue. “But why is this happening NOW? You were exposed to that stuff almost twenty-four hours ago. Shouldn't it have all worn off by now?”

Bella scratched the back of her neck, a distant look in her eyes. “Well...maybe...but...I did some calculations. And I found that when PT-2715 is absorbed through the skin, it can be temporarily stored inside fat molecules. I guess when you got my heart racing like that, a little bit more must have been released.”

Bella sighed. “Alright, let's summarize.” She placed her hands behind her head, causing the rip in her outfit to extend another few inches. “One: I want to get bigger. I'm a grown-up, and I've made the decision with full knowledge of the consequences. You should respect that. Two: whether I want to or not, I'm going to GET bigger. This stuff is already inside me, and it's not like there's a cure or anything.

Chapter 4

Zayne closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Bella watched him, studying his face for a hint of what his answer might be. Without warning he placed the palm of his hand in the middle of her chest, and pushed hard. Bella stumbled, her feet giving way beneath her, and fell backward onto the bed. The instant she landed he pounced, pinning her body between his legs. “Wh...what are you...?” she stuttered.

He grinned at her roguishly. “Let's just call this my way of saying 'I agree to your terms.'” Zayne tugged on the ripped edge of her nightie. “This thing is already completely ruined, wouldn't you say?” Bella nodded hesitantly. “That makes things easier.” He gripped her outfit with both hands, and pulled outward with all of his might. The garment tore to shreds around her. 

He took a second to admire her naked form as she lay there sprawled out before him. There was no other word – she was glorious. Her skin was creamy and flawless, with strong, well-defined abs. Her breasts, each one a bit larger than a softball, were dotted with bright pink nipples that looked tiny compared to the rest of her bosom. “Do you like what you see?” she asked, blushing slightly. 

As a reply, he placed his lips against hers, and kissed her seriously. She stuck her tongue down his throat, moaning deeply, and began to unbutton his shirt. The moment she had finished he flung it away, and lowered himself on top of her. The feeling of her warm flesh pressing against his was beyond belief. The two of them rolled around together on the bed, clinging to each other tightly. 

Eventually Zayne climbed off of her, and with a slight tap on her shoulder indicated that she should stay where she was. Sitting on the bed, he leaned down to kiss her again. Her entire body was accessible to him from this position, and he took advantage of that fact, running his hands over her at random. Her face, her neck, her taut little tummy. He spent a long time massaging the supple curves of her breasts. And all the while he could just barely notice Bella swelling larger before him, in the same way that, if one were to stare at a clock for long enough, it might be possible to see the hour hand move.

Tracing a line down her stomach, he moved ever closer to the soft, fuzzy mound of her womanhood. For just a second he teased her, lightly stroking her inner thigh and listening as her moans steadily grew louder. At last he could wait no longer. He allowed one finger to slip inside the hot, dripping folds of Bella's pussy. She shuddered, biting her lip, and dug her fingernails into his leg.

At first Zayne moved with agonizing slowness, probing her with just the tip of his middle finger. He moved in and out of her rhythmically, sliding just a bit deeper each time. Periodically he would pull his hand out to caress the outer lips of her womanhood, or to stroke the hard nub of her clitoris. And once, for just a moment, he pressed himself hard against the rough edge of her g-spot. Her voice was a constant howl of ecstasy, punctuated with short, high-pitched squeaks whenever he touched one of her many sensitive spots.

Abruptly he pulled out of her, and jumped off the bed. Zayne knelt in front of her, and lifted each of her legs into his hands. He leaned forward and, extending his tongue, began to methodically lap up every drop of moisture along the fringes of Bella's pussy. Her rich, heady odor enveloped him, overwhelming all his other senses. The air was thick with her pheromones, and the more of her he tasted, the more he wanted. 

Deciding he had paced himself long enough, Zayne wrapped his arms around her waist and at last began to eat her out in earnest. Bella screamed, and clamped down on him with her thighs. He was vaguely aware that with each passing second there seemed to be more of her. He could feel her legs sliding against his head as they inexorably grew longer. This only served to encourage him further. 

The tone of her moans changed slightly, taking on a thick, guttural sound. She thrust herself at him, forcing his tongue even deeper inside her. And then, she came, calling out his name as her juices streamed out all over his face. 

Zayne stood up, wiping off his face. He looked at his hand for a moment, and after a moment's thought, stuck his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. “Good to the last drop,” he remarked.

Bella gave a weak laugh, peering up at him through eyes that were barely open. “Do...do you...think...I'm any...bigger?” she asked, struggling to catch her breath.

Ah, so it was going to be straight to business. “Yes, definitely. But if you want to know how much, you're going to have to stand up.” 

She winced. With some difficulty Bella pushed herself into a sitting position, and he helped her to her feet. Zayne examined her critically, placing a hand on the top of her head and pulling it toward him. “Let's see. That little bit of 'exercise' seems to have given you about two more inches. I'd say...five ten, maybe five ten and a half. I'm just a hair under six feet. Keep it up and you're going to be taller than me.” 

“That's the plan,” she said, stretching. His words appeared to have restored a great deal of her energy. Then she paused, giving him a concerned look. “Does that...bother you? That your girlfriend is going to be bigger than you, I mean.”

He smiled, and kissed her passionately. “No, it doesn't. In fact, let's see if we can change that 'going to be bigger' into 'IS bigger.' Do you have any condoms?”

She cocked her head at him, and then her face broke out into a cheshire cat grin. “I don't,” she replied. “But....” She pointed toward the other side of the room. Zayne looked, and saw an oddly shaped white plastic case sitting on her bedside table. “Do you know what that is?”

“It...looks familiar. Why, what is it?”

She punched him on the shoulder playfully. “Birth control, you dummy. I'm on the pill.” She threw herself onto the bed. Laying on her back, she looked up at him with a come-hither stare. Bella cupped her breasts between her fingers, and blew him a kiss. If the Catholic church was looking for a way to turn gay men straight, he thought, Bella could easily be their secret weapon. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here and do me!”

Zayne didn't need to be told twice. He undid he belt, moving so fast that his hands were almost a blur, and stripped naked. 

“Mmm, not bad. Not bad at all,” she purred. Bella lifted one of her long legs and gently stroked his fully erect manhood with the heel of her foot. 

“One does one's best,” he replied. He moved in front of her, and slowly lowered himself into position. “Are you ready?” 

She smiled at him, her face deliriously happy. “Yes.” 

He leaned in, sliding his member up and down along her lips. The two of them moaned softly in unison, and Bella wrapped her arms around his neck. And then he thrust himself inside her. There was a moment of resistance, and Bella cried out in pain. But then he was through into all-encompassing velvety softness. Her voice dropped an octave lower, and she began to buck her hips in time with his motion. 

This was the first time that Zayne had ever had sex without a condom. There was just no comparison. The heat; the delicate, gliding smoothness; and perhaps best of all, the wet sensation of her juices splashing out to trickle down his leg. 

He took hold of her waist, lifting her a few inches off the bed and giving his thrusts a slight upward angle. The tip of his cock pressed directly against her g-spot, and Bella shrieked like a banshee. For his part, Zayne thought he did a good job not showing how difficult it was to pick her up this way. She had become quite a solid weight with her recent increase in size! His arms were beginning to shake with exertion, and sweat was standing out on his forehead.

Deciding he needed a break, he pulled out and sat down on the bed next to her. Bella took his cue immediately, and climbed into his lap. Holding her this way, it was still obvious how heavy she was – but her weight was far easier to bear, and Zayne found that he actually enjoyed the feeling of her bulk pressing against him this way.

Bella reached down, taking his length in her hand, and directed him back inside her. She began to bounce up and down on top of him, pulling his head forward into the vast expanse of her cleavage. He took one of her thimble-sized nipples into his mouth, sucking on it greedily, and dragged his fingernails down her back. 

As one they climaxed, their cries of ecstasy reverberating throughout the house. And then, completely drained, they sank back onto the bed, holding each other as they gasped for the sweet breath of life. 

Much later, Bella stirred. She sat up, lifting him with her, and he slid himself out of her.

“That was...it was....” Zayne struggled to find the words to describe it.

“Transcendent? Divine? I could go check my thesaurus, if you want.”

He chuckled. “No, I think you've got it.” 

She grinned, and kissed him. “Well? Would you like to do the honors?”

Zayne guessed what she meant – time for another measuring. With some effort, they stood up. He squinted at her, trying to remember exactly how tall she had been earlier. “Hmm....”

“Hmm?” she repeated.

“Ah, to be honest, you aren't very much bigger at all. You might be five eleven. I mean, you MIGHT.”

Her face fell. “All of that sex just for half a lousy inch?” she pouted. 

“Wow. Damn.” He turned away from her, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Oh you know that's not how I meant it,” she laughed, grabbing his hand and kissing him again.

“I don't know. Maybe you finally used up the last of the drug that was being stored in your fat,” he said.

“What? Oh, yeah. You could be right.” She furrowed her brows, apparently lost in thought. “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?”

It was an unexpected change of subject, but Zayne took it in stride. “No plans. Why, what have you got in mind?” 

“Well, it was hard enough trying to find anything that fit me this morning, when I was five six. There's no way anything I own is big enough for me now.” She looked at him, and he saw that sparkle in her eye that he was coming to know so well. “Want to come shopping with me?” 

“I...suppose we can do that,” he answered unenthusiastically. It didn't actually sound like his idea of a good time.

Bella grinned, and kissed him once again. Zayne noticed how their lips were exactly the same height now. The way they fit together, so perfectly... perhaps there was order to the universe after all. 

Act III: Decomposition (Things Fall Apart)

Chapter 1

“Well, how do I look?” Bella asked, striking a pose. 

Zayne fought down a sigh. It was perhaps the fortieth time today those exact words had crossed her lips, each time with the same timbre, tone and inflection. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of subtle joke on her part, or simply an accident – a repetitive, boring accident.

The two of them had been in and out of nearly every clothing store in the mall. Each time they entered one, Bella would ask to be directed to the plus size section, and Zayne would find himself a nice comfortable spot to sit down outside of the dressing room. She would parade in front of him in a series of outfits, asking for his opinion on each. And it hadn't taken him long to discover that a simple “You look good,” or “Beautiful!” was not going to suffice. When Bella asked him how she looked, she expected a real, thought-out answer. 

At first, it had been exciting seeing his girlfriend in a variety of different clothes. Most of them were cute, and a few rather enticing – these made him wonder what they were going to look like crumpled up on her bedroom floor later. Before long, however, the activity had started to wear thin. He was doing his best to be a trooper here...but they had been at the mall. For. Seven. Hours.

Zayne closed his eyes, and sighed under his breath. He reminded himself that Bella needed a whole new wardrobe, and that this wasn't the sort of thing that could be done quickly. And more importantly, she was having fun. Bella absolutely loved seeing how her new and improved figure looked in all these outfits.

He scratched his chin, studying her latest ensemble. “The pants are nice, although you might want to go a size smaller. Same with the jacket. But I love the shirt underneath it...especially the nice low cut.”

She winked at him, leaning forward to give him a good look at her cleavage. “I thought you might enjoy that.”

Zayne laughed. “The only problem I can see is the shirt's color,” he went on. “The blue kind of clashes with your eyes. You might want to think about red, or possibly white.” 

“Yeah, good point. Can you see if you can find me one while I change? Thirty-six....”

“Thirty-six wide, nylon or polyester only,” he interrupted, his voice flat.

“Ah, you remembered,” she said, grinning at him, and went back into the stall.

Zayne poked around the store, his thoughts wandering. There were a couple of things about this shopping trip that didn't quite add up. For example, her fabric preference. Most people were more partial to clothes made of natural materials, if that was the kind of thing they were going to care about at all. But Bella had been insisting on synthetics all day, and it was starting to make him curious. In addition, a fair number of the articles of clothing she was trying on were far too big for her. Whenever he pointed this out, she would agree with him, and then discreetly buy them anyway. 

Finally locating a shirt that matched her parameters, he made his way back to the dressing area. Bella was just coming out wearing another outfit. “Well, how do I look?” she asked yet again.

Zayne stared. She was wearing a pair of black jeans and a simple button-up shirt. Both garments were several sizes too large. Even at 5'11” Bella looked like a little girl who had gotten into her mother's closet. This was just going to far – he had to broach the subject. 

“Why do you keep trying on all these gigantic clothes?” he asked, passing her the shirt he had found. “At first I thought you were just making a mistake. But it's happened way too often now, and this one just confirms it. What's up?”

She gave him a flippant little gesture. “Weren't you ever a boy scout?”

Bella seemed to love to throw him these wicked conversational curve balls. He stuck with this one. “No. And neither were you, unless you have some sort of terrible secret that you haven't told me.” He looked at her seriously. “What do you need to 'be prepared' for? I thought we proved that all of the drug was out of your system after last night.”

Bella scratched the back of her neck. “Well...you just never know. Some of it could be stored in my liver, or in my soft tissue. But look at it logically. If I DO get any bigger, I don't want to have to come out here and buy another set of clothes. If I DON'T...I can just have these taken in.”

Zayne made a sudden connection. “Then the polyester and nylon....”

“They stretch,” she said, tugging on the shirt Zayne had brought her to demonstrate. “Come on, just tell me you aren't getting a little excited even thinking about me growing again. I saw the disappointment on your face when I stopped.” She patted him on the cheek affectionately. “Don't you worry hun. I guarantee I'm not done yet. It might take a few days, is all.”

An hour later the two of them were making their way through the parking lot. “Pretty successful shopping trip, if I do say so myself,” Bella said. She was bouncing on her heels as she walked, to such an extent that she was practically skipping. “I especially like that purple dress – you know, the sleeveless one, with the really short skirt. Oh, and these side-tie panties,” she held up the bag she was carrying for him to see. “Bet you'll get some good milage out of those, huh?”

Zayne nodded, keeping his eyes on the car. Just another hundred feet now.

“You know, I CAN get some of those for you,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “I'm not as weak as I used to be.”

“I'm...fine....” he said, gritting his teeth. His arms were full of shopping bags and packages, to the point that he looked like a living mountain of commerce. “Just...get my keys out of my pocket...okay?”

They loaded Bella's purchases in the trunk, the vehicle's frame sagging slightly under their weight. “Hey Zayne, I just want you to know how much I appreciate your patience today. There aren't many guys who would put up with such a long, boring day. I know you did it for me. And well....” She took his hand, smiling demurely. “When we get home, I'll give you that reward I mentioned, okay?”

They drove back to Bella's place, and she demonstrated yet another of her many talents – cooking. In short order she had prepared a meal of grilled chicken with hand-mashed potatoes. For an encore, she made dessert as well – cheese cake, as good as the kind they had had at the restaurant the previous day, and made from scratch no less. 

“I don't know how you did all of that so fast,” Zayne said after they had finished, leaning back in his chair.

“It's all about knowing your order of operations,” she told him, polishing off the last few crumbs on her plate. “Before you start, you have to ask yourself...what's going to take the longest to make, what's going to need the most attention, and what can you be doing while you wait. It's something every chemist should know how to do.”

After dinner the two of them snuggled on the couch, watching a movie. Bella lay sprawled out, resting her head on his shoulder. She had changed into her new pajamas, which consisted of a set of fuzzy leggings and an extremely baggy shirt. This latter article was starting to present a problem for Zayne. It didn't really provide Bella much support in the chest area, and whenever she moved suddenly he could see her breasts jiggle alluringly. And every so often she would stretch, unwittingly giving him a great view of the deep valley of her cleavage. 

Or perhaps it wasn't so unwitting after all. Before long she was gently stroking his cheek, staring up at him with a dreamy look in her eye. He shifted her body, lowering her head into his lap, and kissed her softly. They spent a few minutes making out, while the forgotten characters on the screen acted through their hopeless romantic comedy. In due course Zayne inched his hand down past her stomach, sliding the tips of his fingers into her panties. She was already soaking wet, and it took him less than a minute to bring her to a whimpering orgasm.

She lay against him for a while, recuperating. He was almost certain that she hadn't grown during the process, and in any case she didn't ask him to check. Eventually Bella rolled over, and propping herself up on her elbows, unzipped his pants. She worked his manhood out of his boxers, and began to stroke him between her thumb and forefinger. Her touch was light, like the gossamer wings of a butterfly. Almost immediately she brought him to the edge, and then kept him there for an agonizing eternity. Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, she took his length into her mouth and swirled her tongue around the head of his penis. Instantly he came, calling out her name as she swallowed every last drop. 

They held each other, savoring the afterglow. “You know,” he said after a long silence. “I'm going to have to go home sooner or later.” She hugged him tighter, as if to keep him from leaving. “No, really. We both have work tomorrow, and I'm still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. I need a fresh set of undies, and a shower.”

She sniffed him. “Hm, now that you mention it....” He gave her a hard pinch on the bottom, and she yelped, giggling. “I suppose you're right. We probably won't get to spend very much time together during the week – quality time I mean. There's not too much we can do in the lab, at least not without violating our employee conduct agreements. It's just...this weekend has been so great. Maybe...I was hoping that it wouldn't have to end.”

“Oh, well...the night is still young. I don't usually get to sleep until seven or eight in the morning anyway. And as for the rest of the week, a certain someone could extend me an invitation, if she really wanted to....”

Her eyes brightened. “Really? I could have my own house-boyfriend?”

Zayne chuffed. “Do you have to say it that way?” She laughed, and hugged him again. “I'll pack a bag and bring it to work tomorrow.”

They sat up the rest of the evening, talking of deep, meaningful things. What's your philosophy on life? Do you want children? Who is this God person, anyway? Even though they had known each other for only a short time, there seemed to be a powerful, unspoken bond between them. Zayne had always been a bit awkward socially, and could be self-conscious when he was with someone he didn't know very well. But with Bella it was as though he could just be himself, and when he told her this she agreed that it was the same for her. 

When he left it was well past nine in the morning, the sun already peaking over the trees across the street from her house. She walked him to his car, and kissed his cheek. “Until tonight,” she said simply. He drove home, down streets that were just beginning to clear of rush hour traffic. Exhausted, he crawled into bed, where he promptly fell asleep. 

Chapter 2

Zayne arrived at Palladian early the next day, but when he got there he found Bella already hard at work. She had loaded the centrifuge for him, and the machine was filling the room with its characteristic noise. His girlfriend was standing with her back to the door, her attention completely focused on the experiment she was running. He resisted the temptation to sneak up behind her and play a game of 'guess who' – although, he mused, if he startled her it might cause her to spill more of the drug on herself. Instead he put his bag down on the desk and walking into her field of vision, waving hello. She smiled, and blew him a kiss. 

He unpacked his things, pulling out his sketchbook. Usually he did this with an air of dread, but today he was excited. Zayne lifted his pencil, and immediately a drawing of Bella began to take shape on the page before him. Bella, dressed in her lab coat, carefully mixing the contents of a pair of test tubes. God, she could make anything look sexy. 

Zayne heard the refrigerator door snap shut, and he looked up. Bella was walking away from the unit with a self-satisfied expression on her face, brushing her hands clean. She strolled across the room, and sat down on the desk across from him. 

“Did you just load that batch?” he asked, loud enough to be heard over the machinery.

“Yeah,” she replied, kicking her legs as they dangled over the side. “You looked like you didn't want to be disturbed. It's no big deal. One of those things might've been too heavy for me before, but now....” She pulled back the sleeve of her outfit, flexing her muscle. “No sweat.”

“Thanks. But you don't need to do that. It's MY job, not yours, and I'd feel bad if I was getting paid just to come in here and doodle.”

“I thought getting paid to doodle was your long-term career goal,” she teased.

Zayne set his pencil down. Turning, he peered up at her, not saying anything. He kept this up for almost a full minute, looking unblinking into her eyes. Bella could only stand the attention for so long before a dark red flush began to spread across her cheeks. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just want to make sure I get your face exactly right,” he told her. “It's a little daunting, you know – trying to draw perfection.”

“Aw!” she gushed, hugging her arms to her chest.

“Also,” he added, unable to resist. “It's fun to make you nervous.”

They spent an uneventful night in the lab. Bella would come over in between machine cycles to sit with Zayne and watch him work. Around three in the morning, he insisted on testing one of the batches for her. “Since you helped me out earlier,” he explained. She removed her goggles and snapped them down over his face. After reminding him how to run the reaction, she stood back and let him do it himself. 

“This batch looks good,” he told her when the tube failed to turn silver. 

“Yup, everything's in order,” she confirmed. “You're not too bad at that, you know? You have good hands for chemistry – nice and steady.”

“I'm sure you can think of a few things you'd RATHER have me do with my hands,” he quipped, already moving out of her reach before she could punch him. 

Five a.m. came, and together they walked out into the parking lot. Zayne got in his car and followed Bella back to her place. They pulled into her driveway, and he unloaded a duffle bag of his stuff from the trunk. “Just put that anywhere,” she told him, opening the front door. “Do you want something to eat?”

“No, I'm fine. Want to just chill out on the couch for a while?” he asked.

“Sure. Just let me get out of my work clothes. Do you want to change too?” 

“Nah.” He pointed to the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing. “One of the benefits of being a test tube jockey is the total lack of a dress code.”

“Suit yourself...or rather, don't suit yourself. Sorry, that was an AWFUL pun. I'll be right back.” She went upstairs, carrying her handbag along with her. 

Zayne sat down on the couch and closed his eyes. It had been a productive night of drawing. He had managed two sketches, and while neither was as good as the one he had done in his meditative state, at least he was making progress. Maybe, if he kept at it, he could actually make something of himself. 

A few minutes later Zayne heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned to see Bella standing before him, a strange expression on her face. She was wearing the same white bed shirt that she had the previous evening. The garment was large enough that its bottom edge came down perhaps a hand's length past her waist. It was not large enough, however, to justify going without pants. And yet, in an apparent miscalculation, that was exactly what Bella had done.

“Hi,” he said, looking her up and down.

“Hi,” she replied, and tackled him. 

Her lips were locked on his before he had time to react, and then she was shoving her tongue down his throat. He kissed her back, struggling to keep up – he had never seen her so aggressive before! Bella grabbed ahold of his shirt, and unceremoniously yanked it off of him. She spent a moment caressing his bare skin before her hands made their way down to the bulge in his jeans. Zayne moaned, still trying to get his bearings.

Abruptly she stood up, and took his hand. “Bedroom,” she growled, and pulled him to his feet. He had no choice but to follow her. Upstairs, she removed his pants and pushed him down – hard – onto the bed. Panting, she climbed on top of him, and without even the pretense of foreplay she thrust his cock inside her. She cried out at the top of her lungs, her voice thick and sensual. Again and again she impaled herself upon him. To Zayne it felt like he was some prize thoroughbred, and Bella was riding him to victory in the biggest race of his life. 

Reality became a blur of images and sensations. A hot, sticky liqueur was dripping down his leg. There was a wet slapping sound, and a woman's voice screaming. A wondrous pair of breasts, barely contained by a white t-shirt, were bouncing up and down in front of him. As those breasts swelled larger, they were beginning to fill out the shirt, causing it to gradually slide up along....

Wait.

Zayne forced himself back from his ecstasy-induced delirium. No, he was not imagining it. Bella's top, hopelessly baggy on her only moments before, was starting to look like a much better fit. If he watched carefully, he thought he could actually see the top of her head inching upward with each passing second. And her bosom, without question, was expanding much faster than the rest of her body – he guessed that she was easily a Double D by now.

She looked down at him, her face contorted by an almost boundless amount of pleasure. In her eyes was an unmistakable message – 'I know, that you know, that I know.' In that shared moment, any question he could have wanted to ask her drifted away into the æther. This was not a problem to be solved; it was a fantasy to be enjoyed.

A renewed sense of passion flowing through him, Zayne began to thrust himself into Bella for all he was worth. He took hold of her waist, lifting himself as high as he could off the bed to grind even deeper inside her. With a roar she came, collapsing on top of him in exhaustion. A moment later he joined her, and the two of them lay clutching each other while wave after wave of euphoria rushed over them. And through it all he could still feel her body continuing to pulse larger against him. 

“Can you move?” she asked him after a while. 

“I...think so,” he replied uncertainly. They gingerly disentangled their limbs, and she helped him to his feet. 

Bracing for the worst, Zayne turned to look at his girlfriend. He found himself staring directly at Bella's lovely, smirking lips. She was a few inches taller than him at least, and if possible even sexier and more curvaceous than she had been before. 

“Well? How do you feel?” she asked.

Zayne blinked. “Ah, isn't that my line?”

“Oh, I feel fine. Fan-fucking-tastic, is the word that comes to mind. You have no idea. What I want to know is....” She sighed. “I know you told me you were okay with the IDEA me being taller than you. But that was just on paper. Now that it's happened, and I actually AM bigger...is it a problem? How does it feel?”

By way of response, he reached out and groped her cantaloupe-sized breasts, squeezing them between his fingers. “Pretty great, I'd say.”

She pulled back to punch him, but apparently thought better of it. “I'm being serious,” she said.

“So am I. You made your case for getting taller the other night, and I agreed with you. Besides that, you KNOW it makes me excited when you grow.”

Her eyes twinkled. “What about when you have to endure my endless cute nicknames for you? Little guy, short stuff, and so on?”

Zayne laughed. “As long as you say it with a smile on your face.”

She grinned at him impishly. “And if I still had some growing left to do? What then?”

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “You STILL think it might happen again?” 

She nodded. 

He thought for a moment. “Well, to be honest...I would probably like that. There's something infectious about all the fun you're having with this. And besides that, you've demonstrated that there are other...benefits.”

“I'm SO glad to hear you say that,” she said, beaming. “Now, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to know exactly how much taller than you I am.” She pointed at a tape measure resting on her bedside table. Zayne noted that she had been ready for this sudden, unexpected growth spurt – had she somehow known it was coming?

Bella's height turned out to be six feet, two and a half inches. When he told her this, she replied haughtily that any self-respecting scientist would insist on using metric. He did the measurement again, which came to one hundred eighty-nine centimeters. 

The two of them took a quick shower, and crawled into bed together. She snuggled up behind him in a spoon position, wrapping her arm around his chest, and pulled him tight against her. For a moment this felt a little awkward – usually he would expect to be the one holding the girl this way. The sensation soon passed, and he drifted off to sleep in her warm embrace.

Over the rest of the week, the two of them fell into a routine, of sorts. Each day they would get up, have breakfast together, and go to work. Zayne would sketch, and Bella would watch him. At the end of the day they would go back to Bella's place. She would go upstairs to change, only to come back down in one of her sexy outfits and pounce on him. They would make sweet love – and this no one would make the mistake of calling routine.

And each day, in the throes of passion, Bella would grow a little bigger. It was never much more than an inch in any one session, and in fact as the days passed her growth seemed to be slowing down. Still, it gave Zayne cause for alarm. For one thing, the bed was starting to become a bit crowded. The same was true of the shower. Bella was forever accidently pushing the small of his back into the soap dish, and as much as he tried to laugh it off, this could be rather painful.

There was also an issue with their sex life. Zayne was accustomed to taking charge in the bedroom, both because he enjoyed it, and because most women expected it. This was no longer the case with Bella. She was never as rough as she had been that first night, possibly because she was afraid she might hurt him. Or, more likely, it was because she understood the fragile nature of the male ego. No matter how gentle she tried to be, however, there was still no question that she was the dominant sex partner. But, as she once put it, “I rule with the consent of the governed.” 

Whenever Zayne tried to take the initiative she would play along, and allow him to have his way with her. Even so, it was painfully obvious that he would not have been able to do this without her permission. Even at six two she had outweighed him, and with each passing day the disparity between them was growing more pronounced. And to top it off, Bella was becoming far stronger than him as well, with her muscle tone increasing in direct proportion to her size. It took a healthy, well-adjusted outlook on life to come to grips with the fact that your girlfriend could easily take you in a fight if she ever really wanted to do so.

All the same, Zayne was as happy as he had ever been. Bella never used her advantages in a way that he didn't enjoy – on the contrary, he loved the added twist it gave their romantic life. It also didn't seem to have affected her personality in any way, with a few notable exceptions. She was a little more outgoing than she had been, and for some reason she seemed to take a perverse joy in surprising him with glimpses of her sculpted body at unexpected moments. 

Chapter 3

Friday came, and Bella couldn't find anything to wear. “Come on babe, we're going to be late for work if we aren't out the door like...now,” Zayne prodded. 

“I'm...nggh...trying!” she replied, trying to squeeze into the biggest shirt she owned. When they'd gone shopping, Bella had had the foresight to purchase extra large clothing, things that she could grow into. While her current height was still barely within the range she had planned for, she had not, unfortunately, anticipated her expanding bust line. It looked to Zayne as though someone were trying to shove a pair of beach balls into a pillowcase. 

With one final tug, she pulled the shirt as far down as it would go. It left much of her midriff visible, and the material was stretched dangerous thin around her neckline. Still, it was good enough to go outside without fear of being arrested for indecent exposure. 

“That doesn't look very comfortable,” Zayne said, peering at her skeptically.

“I'll be fine,” she grunted, waddling toward the stairs. “Let's...just go.”

He moved to block her path, and she stopped directly in front of him. It could be a little intimidating these days, standing this close to her. After their latest romp the previous evening, Bella had been measured at just over six foot six (“Two meters even!” she had insisted.) The top of his head was now just about level with her nose. If this kept up much longer he could expect to spend even more time than usual staring at her breasts. 

“Here, let me see if I can't fix that shirt for you.” Zayne reached up, and got a grip on the strained fabric near her collar. With a sharp tug he pulled down, and the garment ripped. She immediately began to breath easier, and there was an additional benefit as well – the tear revealed a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage.

Bella did not look happy. “That shirt wasn't cheap,” she said, glaring at him crossly. “You...are going to get it later.”

“Double entendre?” he asked with mild interest.

Her expression didn't change. “Probably.”

They arrived at the Palladian and got to work managing the centrifuge. After the first batch had been loaded, Zayne settled down to draw. His sketches had noticeably improved over the course of the week. Bella had told him that all he had needed was some inspiration, and certainly that was part of it. More importantly, he was now going about his craft without feeling the need to prove himself. When he picked up a pencil, he no longer had to wonder if something good would result. He knew.

Just after midnight, Zayne was putting the finishing touches on another of his works. This one was a cityscape – he had taken particular time to get the textures on the foreground buildings just right. The drawing also featured a gigantic Bella, five hundred feet tall if she was an inch. She was kicking over a skyscraper, an expression of wrath of her beautiful face. In a fit of inspiration, he had decided that she should also be breathing fire. Suddenly, he felt a pair of powerful hands grasp his shoulders.

“Interesting,” observed Bella, giving him a firm massage. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Who can guess the artist's motivations?” he answered cryptically. “Although we DID just watch Godzilla last night.”

She considered this. “Alright, I suppose you're off the hook. Hey, I'm going to unload this next batch, okay?”

Despite his objections, Bella had been insisting on emptying the centrifuge for him a least once every night. Zayne wasn't quite sure of her reasons for doing this. Probably she was just trying to be nice to him, to give him some extra time to practice his drawing. Or maybe she wanted to show off her new-found strength – those trays could be pretty heavy after all, and there WAS something rather enticing about the way her arms bulged when she lifted one high into the air. In any case, he had long since come to the conclusion that the issue wasn't worth arguing over.

“Okay, if you want. I guess I'll just go ahead and take my lunch break now, then.” He stood up, cracking his knuckles. “I'll be back in thirty minutes or so.”

“Don't keep me waiting,” she purred, bending down slightly to plant a kiss on his forehead.

Zayne walked out into the hallway, humming tunelessly. He had only taken a couple of steps before he heard a familiar voice call out to him from the direction of the elevators. “Ah, Williams! Just the man I wanted to see!”

He turned, and saw his boss walking toward him. “Oh, hey Mr. Peterson,” he answered, trying to smile. “You're here pretty late. That's the second time in as many weeks, isn't it?”

“More like the fifth,” he answered wryly, covering the distance between them. “I just got off a marathon conference call. We were discussing...well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about actually. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure, I guess. Do you...ah...mind if I eat while we talk?”

“Fine, fine.” They walked down the hallway toward the employee lounge. For the first time Zayne noticed how tired Mr. Peterson looked. The man's suit was wrinkled, and the knot on his tie was uncharacteristically loose. His eyes looked bloodshot and unfocused, and periodically he would scrunch up his face as though stifling a yawn. 

“So, how's life in the lab?” he asked Zayne, holding the break room door for him. 

“Good. Dull,” he said evasively. He wasn't quite sure what his boss wanted to talk about, and he wanted to feel out the situation before he said anything he might regret.

“Dull is...good,” Mr. Peterson said, setting his briefcase down and taking a seat at the small folding table. Zayne pulled a couple of bills out of his wallet, and purchased a sandwich from one of the vending machines. “What about Ms. Lambrie? How have the two of you been getting along?”

“Fairly well. She's a nice lady. Really seems to know her stuff. Very professional.” That seemed innocuous enough, at least.

“Ah yes, professional. That was the word when we scouted her.” He closed his eyes, sighing. “Do you know why I'm here, Mr. Williams?”

“No, I don't,” Zayne replied truthfully, taking a bite of his lunch.

Mr. Peterson sighed again. “I'm here because Loss Prevention has been blowing up my phone all week. They've had me running around like a chicken with its head cut off, putting out one fire after another. Those damned bean counters.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “At least, that was what I thought on Monday. But now....

“Do you have any idea how much it costs to make PT-2715?” he asked suddenly. Zayne shook his head. “Well, let's just say it's a lot. Each batch represents a significant capital investment for Palladian Technologies. And that's okay. You have to spend money to make money, and this stuff is GOING to make money. We've got nine different patents on the thing – the manufacture method, the delivery system, the enzymatic...thing....” He trailed off, staring into space. “This stuff is going to make or break us.

“And God damn it, we're leaking it like a sieve!” he exploded. 

Zayne flinched. “Well, I might be able to explain that,” he said quietly. “You heard about the accident....”

“What? Oh, that. Yes, Ms. Lambrie made a full report.” The man looked at him apprehensively. “How's your knee, by the way? No lingering pain, I trust?”

“My...knee?”

“Your knee, yes. When you tripped over that broom, Bella said you banged it against one of the desks. I know she iced it for you, but she said there was still a lot of swelling, and that you were walking with a limp. I take it that it's no longer an issue?”

“N-no. I took it easy over the weekend.” Zayne's mind was racing. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “By the way, what exactly did Bella end up putting on that report? I didn't get a chance to read it – maybe she missed some details.”

“Ah, let me see. I think I have it on me....” Mr. Peterson opened his briefcase, and shuffled some papers around inside. “Here we are.” He scanned the page quickly. “Accident Date: 22nd September, Approximate Time: 3 a.m. In accordance with his usual duties, Mr. Williams was carrying a Model GF-7 tray loaded with Product code 75423...are you sure you want to go through this?” he asked, looking up impatiently.

“Just get to the part where I fell,” Zayne said, feeling himself break out in a cold sweat.

“Hmm...okay.... Mr. Williams fell, tripping over a broom that was presumably left in the aisle by the janitorial staff. He was unable to maintain his grip on the tray, and the product was considered a total loss. The contaminated product was disposed of without incident, in compliance with documented procedures. Mr. Williams also sustained an injury....”

“On my knee, yeah. I think I've heard enough.” It felt as though he had just dunked his head into a bucket of ice water. Bella had lied to upper management about the accident. Was she worried about her job? Or did she fear that the company would turn her into some kind of lab rat if they found out she'd been exposed to the drug? That was all well and good, he supposed. But why had she pinned all of this on him – and why hadn't she told him about any of it?

“So what's the problem?” Zayne asked, keeping his voice even. “You know what happened to the missing stuff. And sure it's not cheap, but it was just one batch.”

“The company isn't particularly concerned about that one-time loss, as significant as it was. Thirty-six vials down the drain we can handle, as long as we KNOW they're in the drain. The thing is, another half-dozen vials have gone missing. That may not sound like much, when we produce close to eight hundred of them a day. But the problem is, they could be anywhere. The distributer may be shorting us on our reagent orders, or we could have a problem with the equipment.” 

He looked at Zayne darkly. “Or worse, someone could be stealing, and selling them to a rival corporation. I deal in worst case scenarios, Mr. Williams. And so, that has to be my working assumption.

“With that in mind....” He produced another paper from his briefcase, and slid it across the table toward Zayne. “I need you to sign this. It's a Consent to Search form. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, we're going to begin a point by point inspection of every step in our manufacture process. Our procedure in these cases is to have every person in the departments affected sign one of these before we start. It basically says you attest that you aren't at fault here, and that you'll cooperate in any way you can. And that you understand the penalties if we find out you're responsible.”

“Just out of curiosity, what WOULD happen if I was stealing?”

The man gave him a dirty look. “You'd be terminated immediately, and criminal charges would be filed.” Mr. Peterson lowered his head, rubbing his temples. “Look Williams...Zayne. You seem like a good kid. Don't screw around with this stuff. There's a bus coming, and trust me, you don't want to dive in front of it.” 

Zayne signed. 

“Thanks.” The man put the document back in his briefcase, straightening his tie. “Would you mind sending Bella in when you go back to the lab? I need to get her signature on one of these as well.”

Zayne froze. “Have you...talked to her lately?” He had almost asked if Mr. Peterson had SEEN her.

“Not since I introduced you two, no. Why do you ask?”

There was no telling what reasons Bella had for trying so hard to keep her part in the accident a secret. But whatever they were, if Mr. Peterson found out that she was almost two feet taller than the last time they had met, everything she had done would be for nothing. “Well, it's just that she's been working really hard lately, and hasn't been in the best mood,” he said, talking fast. “Personally, I think it has something to do with her home life. Anyway, I'd hate for her to take the implication that our department is responsible for the loss the wrong way. Might be bad for morale. Tell you what...why don't you let ME get her to sign?”

Mr. Peterson looked uncertain. “I'm...not sure I'm allowed to do that.”

“Come on, let me help you out here. All you need is her John Hancock, right? I can get it, no fuss, no muss. You can go home a little early, maybe get some sleep. What time do you have to be back here tomorrow anyway?” 

He scowled. “Eight in the morning. On a Saturday. It oughta be against the law.” He handed Zayne the document. “Alright then, you take care of it. Just make sure to slip it under the door of the Legal department before you leave.”

“I will,” he said, breathing a mental sigh of relief. 

“I suppose I'll be taking off then. And don't worry. If you haven't done anything wrong, you don't have a thing to worry about.” Mr. Peterson stood up from the table. He nodded, and walked out the door.

Zayne waited until he was sure the man was gone, then bolted back toward the lab, his heart pounding in his chest. It was high time he got some answers from Bella. What was behind this complex web of lies? A possibility occurred to him, making him stop in his tracks – what if SHE was the thief, stealing the drug and ferrying it to another pharmaceutical company? Surely getting exposed herself wasn't part of the plan. And neither was getting into a relationship with her co-worker. 

Unless she was just an amazing con artist, playing him like a fiddle, making sure he was too distracted to ever discover what she was really doing.

Zayne shook his head, trying to clear away these morbid thoughts. No, there was no way it could be true. He knew her better than that. Well, whatever was going on, the sooner he could get the story straight from her mouth, the better.

He opened the door to the lab, and let it shut silently behind him. The centrifuge was running again, and Bella hadn't heard him enter. She was holding the last vial in the batch, getting ready to load it onto the tray. He saw her hold it up to the light, examining its contents. And then, to Zayne's horror, he watched as she slipped it into her handbag.