What, was &quot;Rudy&quot; on cable last night?

Eliot smiled a little. That was what she went with, huh? "Because Hardison or Nate or Sophie would do it. And you wanted to do the right thing." He shifted to face her. "And I said it was better it was us. Because we do the things they can't."

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"Oh." Parker stared, and finally got down from the headboard so she could stare from up close. "Eliot?" She went to poke him. "You're all pretty."

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Eliot snorted. "I'm always pretty." He looked down again and sighed. "Just not usually this . . . jiggly."

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"Well, that's true." Then Parker had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep the giggles from waking up Hardison. "You look like one of Hardison's warrior priestess avatars!"

Fandom, Parker looooooves you!

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Eliot looked up from where he was most definitely not watching himself jiggle, dammit. "What? I do not!"

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"You doooo. And your eyelashes are even longer. How did you do that?" Parker peered into Eliot's face and grinned at the expression. "Eliot, ninja warrior priestess! You just need armor and your sword."

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"I am not wearing any of the armor in one of Hardison's games," Eliot grumbled. "That stuff is like asking to die."

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Which meant before this wore off, she was going to get Eliot into some other kind of armor, yes!

"Do you feel okay?" Parker asked belatedly. "Aside from jiggly. You remember what you're supposed to, anyway."

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"I'm fine," Eliot grumbled automatically. He stood up carefully, adjusting for his new center of balance as he went, then striding purposefully for his dresser. (Okay, seriously, did they just jiggle at everything he did?) "It's Saturday, right? So this'll probably just be a weekend thing?"

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"Awwww. Probably," Parker said, then blinked. "This hasn't happened to you here before? And what are you looking for?" She tilted her head. "Are you taller?"

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"Don't you think I'd've mentioned it if I'd been a woman for a weekend before?" No. No he wouldn't. "And I am not." He pulled on a pair of his boxer-briefs -- which fit differently, but not badly -- and then his jeans -- which were slightly too short and way too tight in the hips -- and sighed. "Maybe. A little." He was. By half an inch.

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"Not if you'd think I'd warn Hardison." Parker hummed and tilted sideways. "I bet that 'Dite's store has bras big enough for you right now. And some pretty stuff."

You know, thinking about it, this was maybe kind of cool. "You're lucky Sophie's not here to make you buy high heels."

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Eliot groaned. "You'd better not call her." The last thing he needed was Sophie shrieking and cooing over him like this. "I'll just use an ace bandage or something. It'll be fine."

He'd be buying at least a good sports bra before the day was out.

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"They're breasts, not muscle sprains," Parker told him, looking very dubious. "I mean, it's your chest. And mine's way smaller. But I don't think that's gonna work."

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"I just need somethin' to --" flatten them down "-- hold 'em in place. An ace bandage'll do that just fine." He came back over to the bed to get the first aid kit he kept in the nightstand, and tried not to think about how his hips were stretching out his jeans. Or how said jeans were starting to drag down from where he'd tried to pull them around his waist. "I couldn'ta turned into a flat chested chick?"

No. No he couldn't.

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"Do you look like your sister?" Parker asked, intrigued. "You're going to need a belt, too. And different shoes."

Isn't this fun?

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"Not if I got taller," Eliot said. He hadn't actually seen himself in a mirror, yet. "And I don't -- my boots are --" Eliot looked helplessly at his comparatively dainty woman-feet. "Dammit, Fandom!"

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"Why we yellin'?" Hardison mumbled, still too close to sleep to realize his voice was a few octaves higher than he was used to. "S'too early for yellin'. Babe, pretend to be sorry 'bout whatever so Eliot makes us breakfast."

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Eliot snorted and walked around the bed, still topless, to shake Hardison by the shoulder. "Wake up, Sleepin' Beauty." Which he was. Because of course Hardison had turned into a ridiculously gorgeous woman. "I ain't dealin' with this crap alone."

Or just with Parker. Who was usually a woman and thus didn't count.

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Hey, there wasn't a whole lot of unattractive in this room, let's be real.

Hardison whined and attempted to hide under the covers. Not that that would work--that never worked--but some things were habit. "Orrrr we could all go back to sleep an' no one has to deal with nothin'?"

Did he know what crap was going on? No. Did it matter? Also no.

Though something was tickling the back of his mind, like a piece of half-finished code, trying to catch his attention. He was going to double-down on trying to ignore it in favor of sleep, though.

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Eliot pulled the covers away from him with a smirk, and lost a few seconds to ogling.

Also. . . .

"Man, you got short!"

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"The hell is wrong with you, man?!" Hardison snapped, trying to snatch at the blanket. Only to become very aware of certain physical changes that had occurred in the night. He was...a little confused by how Eliot was focusing on his height right now, considering--

"THE HELL?!?"

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Oh, Eliot was absolutely focusing on some of the other changes, too. He was a multitasker.

"Yeeeeeeeah. Fandom's rearin' its ugly face again."

Or adorable and well-endowed face. One of the two.

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"Naw, no, uh-uh," Hardison declared, shaking his head as if enough vigor could put everything back to normal. "What happened to my class was Fandom rearin' its ugly face. This is--this is, like...like...witchcraft, man. Angry, evil witchcraft or somethin'! It just changed our bodies! That ain't even right!"

Hardison was pawing at some of those 'changes' now, trying to convince himself that, yes, they were real and, yes, he could feel them as well as see them.

He hadn't realized anything was amiss when he'd woken up twenty years older; from his perspective that weekend, nothing had changed. This was really Hardison's first brush with Fandom whimsy that changed a person. He didn't like it.

Okay, well, Eliot was a really hot woman. He didn't like most of it. A prior notification would have been appreciated, Fandom.

"...Are you taller?"

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