Sarah collapsed to her knees on the cold linoleum floor, tears dripping off her chin. Nothing had really changed, and yet everything felt like it had changed. She still had the rock, but she found herself questioning whether she should.
She lay the stone on the floor before her, about four inches away from her knees.
"Should I just leave you here?"
"HOW DARE YOU." Sarah's own voice raged within her head. "YOU WILL WISH ME HUMAN NOW."
"I-- I shouldn't make more wishes."
"You will make this wish. You must make this wish. It will be the very last wish you make, but you will make me human."
Confronted with her own voice putting thoughts into her head, Sarah relented. She placed a palm over the stone on the floor, and made the wish that she knew would circumvent the one Jon had accidentally wished earlier that day: "I wish Jon was human, but was standing in front of me and holding a bra which would fit me perfectly."
=====
Just outside the bathroom door Buffy stood alone, wearing a bra that could have talked had it chosen to, but didn't really feel the need.
And then a moment later, she was no longer alone. Jon Gibson was standing before her, offering up something made of a black material. Something with two cups.
"I, ah, I got you a bra like you asked." Jon's face was more than a little red. "I'm sorry you forgot to wear one today."
The two hadn't heard the wish that made Jon human, so reality wrote a scenario for them which, at least marginally, made sense. Buffy had asked Jon for help. Which meant that Jon was someone that she trusted. But it was still an embarassing request.
"Thank you," Buffy's face reddened a bit, itself. "Now I just need to wait until Sarah's done in there."
"Is she alright?" Jon didn't much care for Sarah, but he cared by proxy through Buffy.
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know what's going on with her."
Just then, they heard a muffled shout from the other side of the bathroom door.
=====
"Get up!"
The Sarah McMillan that was crying on the floor of hte bathroom picked her head up at the sound.
"I said, get up!"
Before her was an almost exact duplicate of herself, dressed almost identically to her, waving a red bra at her menacingly.
"Take this stupid thing out of my hands so that I can move on."
Sarah stood, solidifying what she had surmised from the floor: the person in front of her was not completely identical, she was a full eight inches taller than Sarah. Everything else was the same. And, having extended to her full height, Sarah now realized she was no longer wearing a bra. The taller duplicate, eyes piercing her soul, was.
"Take it!"
She did so, then turned around noiselessly to remove her top and put the bra on, trying to retain some dignity.
"I wish I knew and fully understood all of the mechanics of the changes that have been happening this morning," Sarah heard from behind her. The duplicate had the stone. But Sarah didn't really want it at this point.
"I wish," Sarah could hear the smile in the voice, "that I was wearing a pair of big ol' granny panties, with a daisy print, that was two-- no three sizes too big for me and had the words 'Karyn Black' written in sharpie under the waistband on the back."
Sarah finished clasping her bra behind her and pulled her top back on, then turned around. The Sarah of ten minutes ago would have laughed at the sight she found. The normally midriff-baring outfit suddenly obscured the giantess's middle, covering it with three inches of loose, scrunched-up white fabric with little tiny pink and blue flowers set equidistant from one another. It was clear that they'd fall off if it wasn't for the waistband of the skirt holding them in place. Yes, the old Sarah would have been in stitches.
But the new Sarah could only shrink, intimidated. "What are you going to do?"
"Oh, we're going to do this together," the taller Sarah sneered. "We are going to trade our underwear, right now."
"What?"
"Come on, off with it." The taller girl adjusted her skirt to let her underpants slide down her legs. Sarah tenderly did the same, and the hand-off was made.
Sarah McMillan began pulling the large, garish garment up her legs, but Karyn Black finished adjusting it around her waist. It was horribly loose, but it wouldn't be for long, as her thighs were already expanding, her hips widening, her butt growing with flab, all to match the pair of panties as if they were her own. Because now they were.
Other adjustments were made. The cute black-and-pink outfit she'd been wearing didn't match the kind of person who would wear this particular pair of underpants. And so they changed: the light and airy skirt wrapped itself around her legs, thickened, lightened, and ended up a loose, comfy pair of tan pants with a high elastic waist. The flirty halter top grew shoulders and sleeves, filled in its bustline, grew several inches at the hem, and became a heavy, faded black cotton. Strappy sandals became canvas shoes. A Victoria's Secret bra became Hanes. Makeup smudged by tears disappeared entirely.
The girl who had once been kind, confident, quirky Karyn Black, who had become snotty, sexy, stuck-up, Sarah McMillan, was now Karyn Black once again, but now a much homelier version. Her body was pear-shaped and bottom-heavy. Her face looked pathetic. Her clothes were hand-me-downs and thrift store fare. Even the cheerleader's bust and blonde hair, which could not be unwished, were hidden by her otherwise-plain features.
**
The taller girl, who had once been gentle Jon, then an inanimate bra, adjusted her new underwear beneath her skirt and remained the vindictive, angry, horny amazon that had materialized in the bathroom just a few minutes ago. She was now the only human Sarah McMillan in the room.
**
And as she already matched the panties she was wearing perfectly, they didn't change her.
In fact, due to her wish to understand the mechanics of the change, Sarah now knew that the red panties she was wearing would continue to try to absorb characteristics from her until they found something they could alter. When they failed to do this, they would simply store up the excess energy. The more that energy built, the more it would affect the wearer, building up energy within them as well. This would create a feedback loop, effectively reinforcing Sarah's Sarah-ness and giving her a magical resistance to any future changes that may happen.
And Sarah knew this. So while she did not want a duplicate of herself to materialize in the morning any more than the Karyn-Sarah hadn't, and while she could already feel Tiffany Sanders's influence on her to start looking for a boy to defile, the conniving, vindictive part of her took the reigns and decided to lay low for a few hours and allow these energies to build.
Ignoring the pudgy girl with her who didn't quite seem to understand what had just happened, Sarah crossed the linoleum and left the bathroom, pausing only for a split second at the sight of the boy standing with Buffy Meadows outside. Was that Jon? How had he gotten there? It was no matter. Everything could be fixed later.
Sarah McMillan, ruthless Amazonian slut of Lake Point High, left the school grounds.
