A Partridge in a Pear Tree

"George? You home?" I silently hoped for no response. Nothing against my roommate, but I didn't feel like company at the moment. I'd made the mistake of telling one of the partners at my law firm that I wouldn't be going home for Christmas, which he saw as an opportunity to have a first year associate retrieve a case file from the office this morning. Who the hell works on Christmas?

I opened the door, revealing George sprawled across the sofa. "Hello, Mark. My flight canceled due to inclement weather. Looks like you and I get to spend the holidays together this year." I grunted in reply, eager to get changed and spend the rest of the day loafing in sweatpants. George was an odd dude. Decent-looking, seemed to make good money, but he always seemed a bit shady and mysterious. I would have loved my own place, but I couldn't afford it in the city.

If George had picked up on my mood, it sure didn't show. "Say, I'd prepared a gift of sorts for someone back home, but it's a bit... time-sensitive. Perhaps you'd like it instead?"

"Oh, sure, thanks. I feel a little awkward though, I didn't get you anything."

"Please, don't worry about it. I'll be much happier if it doesn't go to waste." Without waiting for any further response, George marched to his room and returned with a small box. "Merry Christmas!"

I'm not sure what I expected when I opened the package, but it definitely wasn't a pear. The fruit and I stared at each other for a moment while I tried to think of an appropriate response. "Wow, that's... something. Thanks." Nailed it.

George chuckled at my nonplussed state. "Wouldn't you like to try it? Not to boast, but I think you'll find it... life-changing."

Weird, but I figured I'd humor him. I made a show of picking up the pear, smiling, and taking a big bite. "Mmm, that's--"

I froze as I was about to take another bite, juice running down my chin. Something was wrong. My voice shouldn't sound like that. I shouldn't feel a draft against my legs, stomach, or arms. I definitely shouldn't have hair brushing against my neck or feel a weight on my chest. My unfamiliar voice shook as I asked, "What's going on?"

"Glad you asked! My full name is George Nathaniel Corning. I am 216 years old, and I am a warlock. The pear you just ate was meant for a rival of mine back home. However, since the spell had to begin today, I didn't want to let it go to waste."

I stood there processing the information. He hadn't answered what I really needed to know, what I suspected I would discover if I dared to lower my eyes. "But I'm-- am I--"

"Oh, yes, you are a woman, and quite a lovely one at that." His words hit me like a punch to the bare midriff, and I finally looked down.

"But I'm a guy!" My sputtered response would have been almost comical if I weren't so shocked. The full, perky boobs stretching my shirt and completely smooth front of my miniskirt told a very different story.

"I think if you check your purse, you'll find that's quite untrue."

My purse?!? I turned, and sure enough, there was a woman's purse sitting on the counter. Which meant it was mine. My long fingernails made it awkward to open, but I retrieved my ID. Mary Partridge, female, 5'5", 120 lbs.

Another laugh from George broke my trance. "You'll excuse the play on words. I really wanted to be clever, but the best I could think of was Mary from Merry Christmas. Your shape and surname are, of course, from the first day's gift."

First day? Did he mean...

"I can see you've put it together already. Yes, this is the first of twelve gifts. I hope you're as excited as I am!"