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Chapter Text

How special you are
Revel in your day
You're fearfully and wonderfully made
You're wonderfully made
Skillet, “Imperfection”

She felt...odd, waking up the next morning. Not the odd she should have felt, eating a pint of ice cream and more of her favourite take-away than normal and have a bottle of a very delicious and rather expensive red by her standards to wash it down. Oh, the headache was there, and so was the dry mouth, but there was more to it than that. She felt...different. The shape of her, first off. The length of her. She felt taller. Thinner. Felt like she wasn’t stout and somewhat lumpy but…

She got out of bed and stumbled a bit. Not the drunken sort of stumble one might expect but the “I’m not used to this body” kind of movements you would see babies take when they first started to walk. She toppled over onto her bed, clutching at the quilt, and then she noticed her nails. A deep, dark red polish was on them, and they were long, which was utterly impractical for her post. But they were beautiful, just like the nails she often considered getting just for a moment before reality set in and she got her rounded square tipped nails on the short side with the pale pink polish so she could look professional. Whatever had happened yesterday had been…

The old man, tapping her with the stick. “There. Your wish has been granted.

She had the perfect life.

She stumbled a bit as she made her way to her loo, rather eager to turn on the mirror and take a look at what the perfect her would look like. It took a moment to fumble for the light switch; her mind was still used to short little Molly that this tall body with the graceful hands wasn’t used to what it was doing. But finally the lights came on and she blinked against the brightness for a moment before she focused and stared in wonder.

Her hair was long and sleek and straight, nearly a jet black, and so beautiful. She had blue eyes, like the color of a sapphire held up to the light, even more beautiful than Sherlock’s eyes, she’d reckon. Her lips were plump but not too big, and when she pursed them together in a pout she looked so sexy.

Sexy. For the first time in her life she felt sexy beyond belief, the absolute epitome of perfection that it seemed the men she had loved had wanted. Well, Tom had chosen a blonde but this...this was closer to what Janine was. Maybe not as curvy, but still as darkly mysterious and sensual. This could be the beginning of some wonderful times.

“Oh, this--” She stopped as her eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Even her voice sounded different! It was rich and smooth and sultry, rather like the women in those crime noir movies who were the femme fatales. Maybe that was what she had been modeled after? Not that she had ever wanted to be a woman who would chew men up and spit them out, but to look like them, to sound like them...oh, it was such a lovely daydream.

A daydream that was now a reality.

The only thing that bothered her was that her face was already made up, and it felt rather heavy to her, as though the make-up was caked on with a trowel of some sort. But it looked expertly done, far better than she knew she could do. And it deserved to be seen by the world. She had some money to spend, and a body like this deserved some new clothing, especially as most of hers was no longer going to fit. Oh, she was sure she could scrounge up a few pieces that would fit her new shape, at least until she could buy all sorts of pretty things that fit better. But soon she’d have a new wardrobe, a better wardrobe, one that might get her more attention. If not from a certain consulting detective than...well, there were plenty of fish in the sea. He had made his choice, it wasn’t her, and she should move on.

And in this body, she could move and shake with the best of them.

Perfection was a lovely thing.