When a cold front meets a warm front, they try to pass each other by. But sometimes they meet, in mid-air, and clash. Storms pulse down from the sky. Tornadoes steam across the landscape, destroying everything in their path. The elements of nature conspire silently to give birth to power. Nathan Cryogen was a cold man and Carla Davis was a warm woman.
They almost passed each other by. They almost avoided the storm.
Nathan woke with a start, feeling strangely warm and comfortable. He was used to waking up cold, in his cheap studio apartment. Instead, there was a warm body next to him, pulsing out peace and contentment. He breathed an assured sigh and leaned back in bed.
Then he remembered how he'd gotten there. He yanked aside the covers and ran to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door, breathing heavily. He flicked on the light and stared back at his reflection, trying to understand what he was staring at. It was him, but he wasn't sure who him was. I'm Nathan Cryogen, he mumbled to himself, I'm Nathan Cryogen.
But who is Nathan Cryogen? He reached into his memories and found things he couldn't remember having before. A skinny girl with dark hair, living out in the country. I was so happy back then. He shook the thought. The girl was so happy back then. It was becoming increasingly impossible to understand where he ended and the girl began.
"Nathan, are you in there?" came a voice from outside. Suddenly Nathan was that voice, knocking on the door. He felt confused. He'd seen himself bolt out of bed and run to the bathroom. Had he done something last night to upset himself?
Then he was back as the man in the bathroom, staring in the mirror, "I'll be right out. Just freshening up." Relief flooded through him, but it was someone else's relief. No, it was his own. Then arousal. His hand went between his legs. He yanked it back and tried to pull himself together.
He swung open the door, taking in Carla's naked form. She was beautiful. Stunning. Arousing. "Are you ready for round two?" he said, but he wasn't sure whether he'd said it or she had.
"I have to go," he said and started pulling on his clothes. Carla was suddenly pulling on her clothes next to him. He stopped and stared. She stopped too and stared at him. Or was he she staring at him.
"Stop it!" he yelled. "Stop it! Get away from me!"
He fell backward and hit his head on the dresser, slipping into unconsciousness.
He woke up slowly in a hospital room, his eyes adjusting to the fluorescent lights. Someone was standing over him. A nurse. Not his type. Male and muscular. Not Carla's type either. He tried to shake the thought. It didn't matter what Carla's type was. She wasn't even here.
"Good to see you're awake," said the nurse. "I was just checking your vitals. You took a nasty fall, but everything looks ok. I'll get the doctor in here in a moment. Sit tight, Mister, ah, Cryogen." He gave Nathan a strange look and then left.
That was nothing new. Nathan was used to people giving him strange looks over his name. It was his legal name, but he'd heard stories of weirder legal names. The lady who had helped him with his papers had told him of some guy who came in wanting to change his kid's name to Coca Cola. It had sparked a whole debate about whether trademark law applied to first names.
Nathan had never found out the result of the case, but he hoped the kid hadn't had to live with a name like that. The torment would be endless. Nathan, at least, had chosen his last name.
"Mister... Cryogen," said the doctor, striding in. She was a young woman, probably right out of medical school, with a thin frame and her orange-tinted brown hair in a bun. "Says you fell on your head. Do you feel any lingering pains?"
"No," said Nathan. He looked her right in the eye and for a moment, he was standing there, looking down at the patient in bed, wondering when a guy with some genuine confidence would come along.
"No," repeated Nathan, back in his own body, "no, I um." He cleared his throat, "Have you ever given up control?"
She raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me, sir?"
"I'm asking," said Nathan, straightening up in bed, "if you've ever given over your body to a man. Completely."
Silence hung in the air between them. Nathan felt a pang of guilt run through him, but before he could react to it, he was over in the doctor's body, feeling shaken but intrigued. This is what you've been waiting for, came the woman's thoughts. Don't blow it, Allie.
Allie gave him a very professional smile, wrote down a number on a strip of paper, and handed it to him. "If you have any other problems, you know where to reach me. I think we're done here."
"I don't think we are," said Nathan. He pulled himself out of bed and moved over to the door, locking it shut.
"I have other patients to attend to," said Allie, "I don't know what you're doing, but I'm going to call security if you don't step away from that door this instant."
"I only represent what you want," said Nathan, frowning. "It's mutually beneficial." A war raged in his head, but he wasn't sure whether it was his own conscience or hers.
"This is unethical," said Allie.
"But it's what you want."
He could feel the wetness between her legs. The sharpness of her breath. The shudder running down her spine. Every sensation was magnified, pounding in his ears.
"I want to fulfill your wish. I- I want to understand."
Allie took a step backward, her hands shaking so hard she could barely hold onto the clipboard in her hands. "Wh- who am I? Wh- who are you?"
