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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is a "Transforming World" story, which takes place after Madison.
October 23-24, 2003

Sen. FEINGOLD. Mr. Chelgren, by your previous statement, you've admitted you were shrunken to smaller than the size of a thumb when you met your wife. Others have questioned the future of gender relations in a world where men and women are at a different scale. My question to you, as someone uniquely qualified to answer, is this: is this a fair concern, or just a lot of hand wringing?

[laughter]

Mr. CHELGREN. Both.

Sen. FEINGOLD. Please explain.

Mr. CHELGREN. The fear is legitimate, insofar as it's not easy to be in a relationship when your partner is sixty-six times taller than you are. The strain on Sarah and I was intense; there are still times when I'm amazed we made it through everything we did.

But truthfully, there are strains on every relationship, and the ratio Sarah and I faced was extreme. Even if we end up with a world where women average seven feet tall and men five, I would be surprised if it means the end of equal rights for men.

--Scott Chelgren and Sen. Russell Feingold,
testimony before the Senate Subcommittee
on Transformation Affairs, May 12, 2004



Jenn Scott got out of her car and muttered darkly about whatever dark forces had conspired to make her decide to become an attorney. She hated the profession—hated the time commitment, the endless arguments, the constant scheming—and that was just working with her own firm.

She sighed, and headed inside. She'd see her husband, at least for a few hours. That'd be something, she thought.

Andy was a decent guy—kind, generous, willing to sacrifice. And she knew that he was devoted to her. He wasn't making tons of money, but she couldn't care less about that. He was a good person, and that was all that mattered.

Besides, the one good thing about her job was the pay. She had suggested before that Andy stay home when they decided to have kids. He'd be a good dad.

She opened the door, and said, "Honey, I'm home. Sorry I'm late, but the Smithson case is ramping up."

She kicked off her shoes, and sighed. Then, realizing her husband hadn't answered yet, she let out a quick, "Honey?"

Hearing no reply, she frowned a little. Odd, she thought, scanning the living room, his car was in the garage. Seeing that he wasn't downstairs, she headed up to the bedroom, to see if maybe he was napping.

She turned the corner, and flipped on a light. She looked the room over. Empty, except—

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the movement on the bed. A mouse! she thought, instinctively. Then, calming down, she looked back at the tiny creature in the middle of the bed.

She took a few steps forward, not quite believing what she was seeing.

It was Andy.

He couldn't have been more than four inches tall.

She started to swoon, just a bit, but caught herself.

Instead, she thought back to conversations they'd had, both before and after the recent happenings. She knew that he'd wanted something like this to happen, knew that he'd fantasized about it; heck, the two of them had roleplayed it a few dozen times.

She looked down at him. Had he done this on purpose, without asking her?

She wasn't happy when she asked him, "Andrew Scott—what is going on here?"

◘ ◘ ◘

It was a few hours later before she finally started calming down.

"I don't know what's happened," he'd told her, and she could tell he meant it. "I was just lying down after work, for a few minutes, and my mind got to wandering about…well, you know."

"I know," she'd said, calmly, her face impassive for the moment. She loved him, but if he had done this on purpose, she was going to be a little annoyed—it was her prerogative as a wife.

"Anyhow, I was just wondering about it. I never thought it would really happen—I mean, holy shit, Jenn, you're incredible, but I'm pretty scared right now."

With that, she'd smiled, sadly; "I'm sorry, baby," she had said, a pinky tousling his hair. "I was just thinking you'd maybe planned this."

"Believe me, if I was planning this, I'd want to run it by you, first."

Jenn thought back on the conversation as she looked down at him. She'd decided at that moment that whatever his fantasies, she had to preserve his safety above all else. She wasn't going to let him risk his life to satisfy his fetish; there were quite a few things more important than sex.

And so she paced as she was on hold, while he stood on the nightstand, helpless. Finally, an operator answered.

"GTS Society, this is Kari, how may I direct your call?"

"Yes," she replied, "I just got home and found my husband shrunk, and I'm trying to find out how to reverse that."

"Okay ma'am, I'll be happy to help. First of all, how big is he?"

"Four inches."

"Okay. Was this the result of a spell, a charm, something like that?"

"No," Jenn replied, "according to him, he was just thinking about shrinking, and then he did."

"Ooh! Spontaneous miniaturization! That happens from time to time—it means your husband has some latent GTS talent."

"That's great," said Jenn, sardonically, "so how do we get him unshrunk?"

"Well, that's the thing," said the cheerful operator, "he's probably not going to be able to do that on his own—it's tricky, you know, and can end badly if it's done wrong."

"And?"

"Well, we can send out a field operative to help him out. Where are you located?"

"Providence, Rhode Island."

"Great, let's see…okay, we can get Defender Shays out there by…next Thursday, the 30th."

"What?"

"Well, you're in a very stable situation—your husband is with you, he's four inches tall, which is outside of the critical danger threshold—he's relatively safe. It's inconvenient, I'm sure, but we just have a number of people who need help more urgently."

Jenn sighed. Loudly. "So—what are we supposed to do for a week? Wait—don't answer that."

A few basic logistical items later, and she was off the phone, and towering over her tiny husband.

"Well," she said, "I've got good news and bad news."

◘ ◘ ◘

She felt a bit guilty about it.

It wasn't that she wasn't willing to indulge Andy from time to time—it wasn't her "thing," but it made him happy, which in turn made her happy. And she was willing to indulge him now that it was real.

But—well, he was so small! She just couldn't—not without sleeping on it first.

Which is why Andy was sleeping in her underwear drawer tonight.

He'd been disappointed—well, that's understandable. But she'd been firm; she wasn't going to risk his life just for sex. Tomorrow they'd both take the day off, and she'd research it, and if they found some useful information, then maybe.

But Jenn had been firm. And so she lay in bed, nude as per usual, and tried to envision it. She couldn't, quite.

As she drifted off to sleep, she hoped she was doing the right thing.

◘ ◘ ◘

Her dreams were vivid.

She was towering over Providence—she must be hundreds of feet tall, maybe thousands. She didn't know what to do.

She knew if she took a step, she could hurt someone. She was terrified of it—no matter how small, those people were people.

She was paralyzed by fear—fear of hurting them, fear of becoming a monster.

"Don't worry," he said.

"Who said that?" she asked in her dream.

"Trust yourself, and him," he said.

"Who are you?"

"Trust yourself, and him," the voice repeated. "Have faith."

And abruptly, the scene changed.

She was lying on a beach on Block Island, warm Atlantic breezes blowing in on her. She could feel his tiny feet on her stomach, moving down toward her bikini bottoms.

She wanted to stop him, but something told her not to. Instead, she smiled as she felt him slide inside the bottoms, felt individual hairs of her bush being moved as he went down to her vagina.

She was nervous, but she decided to have faith.

And then she felt his tiny hand touch her clit….

She woke up.

The sensations did not abate.

Carefully, trying not to move her hips, she slid up on her shoulders, and gazed down.

The little bastard had snuck out of the drawer, and decided to investigate on his own.

"Ahem," said Jenn.

Andy jumped back a good three inches, and looked up abruptly.

"I…err…."

"Look," said Jenn, "it's not the first time you've played with that while I was sleeping—and I've never complained before. But—"

"I know," he said, "but—well, I couldn't sleep, and I looked over, and…my God, Jenn, you were so beautiful and enormous and amazing, I—well, it maybe wasn't the best decision, but…."

Trust yourself, and him.

The voice came from within her, and she smiled. Just a bit.

"Well," she said, "I'm still not sure about your safety. But—well, if you promise to be careful…that did feel nice."

Her tiny husband looked up at her, his mouth hanging open. It took him a second to say, "You mean, uh…."

"Andy," said the titaness coquettishly, "I'm not going to spend all night repeating the invitation."

Her husband looked up at her, grinning wildly. "Thank you," was all he said. And then he took some rapid steps back toward her.

She watched, bemused, as the tiny man, no taller than her slit, began to work on her with all his might. Then, she sighed happily, as the effects of his labor began to hit her.

She wasn't willing to part with her full-sized husband forever. But she had to admit, this scale had its advantages.

◘ ◘ ◘

Hours later, he had drifted off to sleep on his pillow, exhausted from as much work as he'd put in.

She'd let him play with her outside, and even let him go inside her—but only up to his waist, and only for a moment; she didn't quite trust herself not to crush him with an ill-timed spasm. He'd explored her from top to bottom, literally—and he'd told her over and over how amazingly beautiful she was from his perspective.

She loved the attention, loved that he was getting this opportunity, and hated that in the morning, there'd be difficult matters to attend to. What was he to do about his job? What was she to do about hers? She couldn't possibly drag him with her to work—could she? And she definitely couldn't leave him home alone—not without some serious work to safeguard him.

She knew they'd both have to call in sick the next day. Hopefully, she could safeguard him. She knew he'd help as best he could—but an action-figure is ill-suited for doing heavy-duty lifting.

Still, as she looked at her tiny husband, sleeping peacefully on his pillow, she couldn't help feeling like it was going to be all right. She wanted her full-sized husband back. But she could live with this tiny man for a week and be happy.

Satisfied, and exhausted from as much work as he'd put in, Jenn drifted off to sleep.

◘ ◘ ◘

She awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs.

It took her a second to remember the night before, and when she did, she sat bolt upright. "Andy!" she called.

"Awake?" he said, walking into the room, full-sized, carrying a tray of food.

"You're—uh—you again?"

"Woke up this way," he said, half-cheerfully, half-sadly. "Maybe I was only supposed to have one night like that. I made you breakfast."

She looked at her husband, and felt suddenly a bit sad. "I'm sorry, honey. As tough as the next week would've been, I know you would've loved it."

"I did love it," he said, setting the tray down and giving his wife a kiss. "It was better than I could've imagined. And that's because of you, my love."

Jenn felt her heart swell with that. "I almost wrecked it."

"And I almost took a stupid chance and hurt myself—and we were both fine, and it was fun. And if that's the only night I get, for my entire life, Jenn—it's enough. Because it was with you."

She kissed her husband back. And then, pulling back a bit, said, "You know…it doesn't have to be the only night."

"Huh?"

"Well, the woman from the Society said that this meant you had GTS talent, right? Maybe you could learn to use it—just for fun, every so often."

Her husband looked at her, surprised, and then his face lit up. "You'd want me to do that?"

"Of course," she said. "I love you, Andy, and I know how fun that was for you. It was fun for me too. And while I don't want you doing anything permanent—it wouldn't be a bad vacation now and again, would it?"

Her husband set the tray on the floor, and the two of them spent the morning making love in conventional fashion. There'd be time for Andy to figure out how to use the power he had—and indeed, he would figure that out. Eventually, he'd abandon his job and go to work for the society. But that's another story altogether.

As for Andy and Jenn, they're still married, still happy, and still having fun. And Jenn still doesn't think of her husband shrinking being her thing. But she enjoys it enough that she doesn't care. It may not be her thing, but it's certainly a good thing.
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