"Detective Childs."

Beth spins around, and with shaking hands points her gun at the woman entering the alleyway. She recognizes that voice. She's heard it before, when they'd been examining her ("show me the scar," she'd said, and she sounded so fascinated. Beth wonders if anything has ever blemished her perfect skin).

"I understand you have recently become self-aware. We can help you deal with that." She keeps walking closer, her heels click-click-clicking on the ground. The blonde is looking Beth dead in the eye, completely unafraid, ignoring the gun. The cop's grip tightens, but she can't pull the trigger, she can't she can't she can't—

And now the perfectly composed woman is close, so close, and her hand reaches up and she moves the gun away. "You can't do it," she whispers. "You want the answers I can give you, if you let me."

Beth wants to protest, say she doesn't, but she's a detective, and answers are everything she needs. She's frozen as the blonde's hand moves from her gun, to the back of her neck, and then she's being pulled in, and the other woman is kissing her, and she's strange and familiar at the same time. Beth closes her eyes, and doesn't see the needle coming up from the woman's other hand. She gasps as it sinks into her neck, and her clone smiles against her lips.

"Sweet dreams," she says. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you again after you wake up."

Beth's falling, everything fuzzing out around her, and all she can see is those perfect, gleaming teeth.