Lindsey strutted off the elevator, looking completely at ease in Tim's clothes, her hands leaning out of his trouser pockets. Tim, on the other hand, was instantly struggling to get around in Lindsey's outfit. The little black dress was so tight that his legs could barely move, and the high heeled shoes made him feel like he was trying to stay balanced on a tightrope 100 feet above the ground.
"How do you walk in this stuff?" he groaned as he struggled to follow her into his office.
She swaggered around to his desk, plopped down in his chair, and boldly put her feet up, her hands folded smugly behind her head. She gave Tim a pitying look, and said, "Awww, the sacrifices we make for beauty." She appraised him up and down, then added, "But in your case, cutie, it's surely worth the pain."
Tim eased himself down onto the sofa where Lindsey usually sat when she worked away from her own desk. It felt good to not be standing, though the heels still pinched his feet something awful. "I think you got the better end of this deal," he grumbled.
Lindsey straightened her black necktie and fingered the lapel of her suit jacket. "I could pretend to find something to complain about," she admitted, "but I think you're right. I don't know that I'm ever going to trade back."
"Don't joke like that!" Tim snapped.
Lindsey pulled her feet off the desk, stood up, wandered over to sit next to Tim, and gently stroked his cheek. "Who said I was joking?"
"Yeah yeah yeah," Tim said. "Now what?"
She checked the sleek Rolex on her wrist, then announced, "Well, we do have to finish up each other's work, but there's something important I have to do first. Give me your purse, please."
Tim handed over the purse he still had on his shoulder, annoyed that she had referred to it as his, and watched as she fished through it until she produced a tube of lipstick, an eyeliner pencil, and a bottle of nail polish. Seeing where this was going, he raised his hands in protest.
"No, no no," he insisted. "I'll wear your clothes for a bit, but makeup is where I draw the line."
"But I want you to look like your prettiest self," she said with a pout. "And I think you'll feel happier in these clothes too if you can see how you look after I do my magic. Please?" She batted the lashes above her big blue eyes, and he was putty in her hands.
"Okay, fine," he grumbled. She clapped her hands with delight, then spent the next ten minutes carefully applying color (mostly red) to his lips, his cheeks, his eyes, and his finger and toenails. The latter at least allowed him to take off the cursed shoes, but now he had to wait even longer just to get back to work. Lindsey leaned back to take in the full look, pleased with her work. She fished a compact out of the purse, flipped open the mirror, and shocked Tim with his reflection. He certainly didn't look like a woman, but he did look...
"Gorgeous," he said, almost in a daze.
"You bet your sweet ass you are," Lindsey said, before getting up and going back to Tim's desk. She began going through the paperwork, warning him that he would have to do the same the second his nails were dry.
Within 15 minutes, he felt comfortable using his hands again, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that Lindsey had been right. Even though he was just doing more paperwork, the swap of role — and clothing — spiced it up enough that it was almost fun to complete. He blazed through it in record time. He was so focused on the task that, when he looked up again, he was shocked to realize that Lindsey had gone... taking his clothes, his phone, his wallet, and his car keys with her.
"Where the hell did she go?" he asked, starting to panic.
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