Alone in the room, Jon walked over to the piles of folded clothes on the tables. He was glad they'd given him a variety of choices; so much of this experience had felt chaotic, so any sense that he was still in control, even if it was just to pick out what to wear, gave him a sense of calm.
As he examined his options, he noted that the clothes were perfectly ordinary clothes, the type he would have put on at home. There were jeans, t-shirts, boxer shorts, panties, blouses, skirts, nothing strange. He also noticed that the super suit wasn't in the selection. They probably thought that he wasn't ready for the experience of wearing it yet, probably in need of more coaching.
He wanted to dress relaxed, so he matching white bra and panty set, then a black pleated skirt and white blouse, nothing too fancy. He wanted to get down to the mess quickly to debrief with the team and see how he was going to become the superhero they had described. Once dressed, Jon slipped on a pair of cowboy boots and walked out of the room.
The mess was easy to find, even without help. It was noon, so all Jon had to do was follow the noise. The room was full to the brim with people eating, mostly men in black suits, but some men and women in lab coats. Every eye looked up at him and paused when he walked in, though, causing him to feel momentarily self-conscious, which caused him to look down.
"What the fuck?" Jon exclaimed in his high, bubbly voice, noticing for the first time how he was dressed.
A moment later, Doctor Bradford was at his arm, leading him deeper into the room to a table near the emergency exit.
"I was wondering how that would turn out," the beautiful doctor said.
"What do you mean?" Jon squeaked, confused, "What the hell did you do to me?"
"Well, just like your voice, we made some changes to your psyche," she explained in a soothing voice, "We can't have you acting like a man when you're female superhero. You'll cause panic! We planted some default behaviours, all behaviours you can override by concentrating, of course, but if you don't, they'll default, well..."
"They'll make me act like a girl!" Jon's high voice squealed, "Why wouldn't you tell me this before you put me under?!"
"Honestly, we thought you'd be okay with it," Doctor Bradford continued, "You were, after all, the one who requested the cosmetic changes."
"Cosmetic changes?!" Jon squeaked again, "That was supposed to be about the costume, not about me!"
"Oh, I see. That actually makes a lot more sense," she smiled, "Well, what's done is done. Besides, those cosmetic changes, well, you probably won't even notice them until later."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know, trigger phrases, new fun habits, stuff like that. Little stuff. It doesn't matter anyway. Why are we focusing on this little stuff? Aren't you excited to become a superhero?!"
Jon stared into the beautiful woman's eyes, adjusted his bra strap, and seriously wondered if he was anymore.
