Third Act Problems, A Million Stories In The Naked Sphere, Part 2: In Cold Blood

By C. Mage

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April 23, 2014, 6:12 PM

The Packard slowed to a stop outside a nicely-sized mansion, flawless landscaping. not a leaf or flower petal out of place. Two cars in the driveway, a lovely MG and a black sedan. "Do you know what this place is?" Mitchell asked.

Elsa nodded. "Elsa2's place. What's going on, Mitchell? Who hated her so much that they'd kill her like this?"

Mitchell didn't answer, opening the doors and walking inside casually. Elsa followed his lead, reminding herself that the investigation was supposed to stay quiet. As they both walked in, they found Commissioner Barker there with a uniformed officer and a medical examiner. "Well, Percy, looks like we don't need you anymore."

"How do you figure that?"

"We got us a suicide. Over here." He walked them over to the body of Elsa2 on the ground, lying on her back, a rope tied in a simple knot around her neck. Mitchell felt Elsa stiffen next to him. "Gardener found her hanging from the balcony an hour ago. Left us a suicide note, too. Said she was dealing with Characterization rejection pain and didn't want to give up being herself. The other Elsa apparently found out and was about to turn her in, so Elsa2 killed her." He smiled. "Case closed."

Mitchell wasn't smiling. He walked around the body, looking it over, checking the neck, then the fingernails, then the wrists. He noted the lack of furniture close by. The others watched as he picked up the phone and pressed the REDIAL button. He listened to it for a few moments, then smiled. "Hello, this is the car service for Elsa2, I just wanted to confirm the reservation. Yes. Thank you…...seven tonight? Thank you very much. Yes, I wanted to inform you that she won't be able to make it tonight. Sore throat. Thank you."

Mitchell set down the phone. "Same person who killed Elsa12 killed her, too."

Barker stared at him. "And you know that because?"

"First, ligature marks on the neck."

The coroner sighed. "Consistent with hanging."

"Take a closer look. There's two sets of marks on her neck. One is consistent with hanging, those go up going from front to back. But there's another set that run parallel to her shoulders, meaning someone garroted her from behind. Second, look around." He pointed to the dining room and the staircase nearby. "The closest chair, table or stool is more than fifteen feet away. What was she standing on? Third, she made an appointment for Ratatouille's tonight. The place has a two-week waiting list, and she made it for today, counting on her prestige to get in...so why work so hard to get into a place like that if you're going to end it all later?"

He walked over to the dining table. "Lastly, there's the suicide note." He picked up the note and read from it aloud. "Listen 'Please forgive me, I've done so much I can never forgive myself for, and I have to end it all.' The person who wrote this was using accusatory language, but she didn't say why, and people using accusatory language tend to be specific about the bad things they've done. This isn't a suicide note. It's a condemnation." He walked over to the dead Elsa, showing her fingernails, then taking out a set of tweezers and withdrawing some fibers. "Rope fibers...and I'll bet they don't match the rope she hung herself with. Check her records. I'll bet the farm she was on the way up, not down."

Commissioner Barker turned to the coroner. "Don't just stand there! Get to work!" he added, irritated that the coroner ended up having to learn how to do his job from Percy. "So what are you thinking, Percy?"

"We're dealing with something desperate. Something changed in the last few weeks that triggered this. This wasn't done by a hardened criminal. Too many mistakes." He turned to Barker. "Check on all the other Elsas, FAST. We may have another body or two to deal with."

"MORE bodies?" Barker blanched at the idea, not so much about the dead women, but on how that'd make his life a nightmare with the Higher-Ups.

"Elsa? I need you to get the files on all the other Elsas. As complete as possible. Before they were Characterized and after."

Elsa nodded, feeling more resolute after seeing what had happened to Elsa2. "Absolutely," she said firmly.

"Let's go, Elsa. Barker, call me at my office."

Getting the files from Francois was relatively easy. Any qualms he might have had about providing the protected files turned to smoke in a high wind after hearing from Elsa about what happened to Elsa2. They headed straight back to his office and both of them dove into the files. "What are we looking for?"

"We'll know when we find it." He checked over the files. "How deep are the background checks on these people?"

"Rather thorough...I think."

"You think?"

"I wasn't the one who did the background checks. That was left to Security. Remember, Mitchell, this is not a Sphere where violent crimes happen. We were supposed to be protected."

"Well, the system's breaking down somewhere. Keep going through the files. I have to make a call." Mitchell walked to the phone and dialed, then waited. "Hello? Yes, this is Mitchell Percy. Good, you know who I am, so let's get down to brass tacks. I want to have a word with you. In private. What's the word? The word is 'MORRIGAN'." He smiled. "Why yes, I'll hold."

"Who is that?" Elsa asked, sitting up.

"Oh...just the Big G."

Elsa's eyes went wide. "You...you just don't call up the Big G!"

"Odd...since that's what I just did. Oh, hello? Yes. Yes, I know the place. See you there in an hour." He hung up the phone. "Get the files, you can review them in the car. We've got a meeting."

The location was certainly remote, a river with an old Southern-style steamboat docked to it. The paint on it was fading, but it was still floating, persisting beyond reason. It was dark, and there were no street lights around. Mitchell was used to using his skills at night, and Elsa's eyes adjusted. "Where are we?" Elsa asked.

"A piece of history. This is one of three original steamboats used for the Production that started it all and established the Sphere. 'Steamboat Willie'. Black and white, but still seaworthy."

"Wow…"

Mitchell smiled and led her up the gangplank and into the interior. It didn't take long to find him, sitting not too far away from the big steering wheel on the bridge. "Sorry to bring you out on a night like this."

"No. You're not." The Big G smiled. "I would've been disappointed if you were."

"Tell me about what happened with MORRIGAN Control."

He frowned. "This information doesn't leave here, and is not to be discussed anywhere else with anyone else. Is that clear?"

Mitchell nodded. "Crystal."

"I need to hear the words," the Big G said, turning to Elsa.

"Understood," she said, collecting herself.

The Biig G nodded. "You know about MORRIGAN Control going down. What you don't know was that it had complete control of the Spheres. All of them. Instead of regulating them, it decided on its own that it wanted a stranglehold on everything that went on, and it almost succeeded. No one knows for sure when MORRIGAN made that choice, but its efforts suborned every Sphere, every system and safeguard in place. Then, at the height of its power, something or someone caused a catastrophic failure in its primary core. MORRIGAN went offline...and took a lot with it."

Mitchell blinked. "Including all the safeguards in the Sphere that prevented violent crimes...and the reason you haven't raised any alarms is because you want people to keep thinking the safeguards are in place."

"Can you imagine the panic this would cause? It would be ANARCHY. There would be chaos once everyone realized that not only could they ACT on those repressed impulses they'd felt, but the police would be completely overwhelmed. Murder, theft, every single violent crime, and we would be unable to slow it down, much less stop them. And that's not even counting the beings from beyond the Veil." The Big G looked into Mitchell's eyes. "Believe me when I tell you that I will do ANYTHING to prevent that from happening. Even the best-case scenario would result in future atrocities. No. That cannot happen."

"Wait a minute." Elsa walked next to Mitchell. "Isn't there a new Control System in place? Something that would do what MORRIGAN did?"

"There is...except no one wants to give the new system the same level of control. They won't commit to something like that until they can be sure the new boss isn't the same as the old boss. They're working on the problem now...but until then…"

"...this Sphere is one violent crime away from self-destructing." Mitchell shook his head.

"It's Walt's doing, really. He wanted so badly to make sure this Sphere was so child-friendly, it suppressed normal human impulses to the point of mental damage. If certain things weren't allowed behind closed doors to release those urges, everyone here would've ended up a serial killer when MORRIGAN went down. The only thing keeping things sane is the self-restraint and fear of the Rules being enforced."

"So...let's get down to brass tacks. You want me to keep this quiet."

"By any means necessary."

"Correct. No trials, no parole. Whoever did this is going into the ground. And when the next one happens...they're going to have to go away. Disappear. Bury them or put them somewhere no one will be able to find them. If and when SHODAN Control comes back up with the ability to enforce the Rules again, then...we'll see."

"I'm not an assassin, G. I'm not going to murder anyone."

"Do whatever you want, just as long as we're clear that no one else finds out. You wanted to know what the score was, flatfoot. Now you know...you poor fool."

"Thanks. Thanks heaps." Mitchell considered. "I'm going to expect some favors from you from time to time."

"Mitchell!" Elsa spun around to look at him. "Don't tell me you're actually considering this!"

"Elsa, before you start questioning my sanity...again...consider how badly the Higher-Ups need to keep this quiet. So we can make a choice. We can either be co-conspirators...or we can be loose ends. Which of those will get to leave here alive?"

Elsa turned to look at the Big G, then gulped and nodded.

"Always a pleasure to work with intelligent, rational individuals."

The Big G started to walk out, but stopped as Mitchell said, "You were a nice guy, fun-loving, jovial."

"Try running a Sphere sometime," the Big G said levelly.

"I want to know...how much of the old you is left in there?"

The Big G turned to Mitchell and Elsa with a smile. "Enough to keep people guessing."

"Ah heh...right." Mitchell turned to Elsa. "Come on, let's go...before I learn anything more."

"Right behind you."

April 24, 1:12 AM

Mitchell and Elsa came through the office door, both looking as weary as they felt. "I've only talked to him twice, but I've come to a conclusion. I REALLY wish I'd known the guy before he started borrowing his cues from the Angel Of Death…!" Mitchell groaned. "I'd sleep for a week if I could...and we need to be up in six hours for that meeting with Barker."

"Are your cases usually like this? Long hours, dealing with police bureaucrats, shadowy meetings out in the middle of nowhere?" Elsa tossed her coat on the coat rack and laid down on the sofa.

"Pretty much."

"What was it like in your own Sphere? The Wildstorm one?"

Mitchell sighed, pouring a shot of whiskey for each of them. "It was more...gritty. Guns, superpowers, women and men in skintight, usually revealing outfits. Death, widespread destruction, graphic fights, blood...just the sorts of things the Fans wanted to see. Lots of superhero-themed Spheres are like that."

"You said you were a grifter. Like a con-artist?"

"Huh. I didn't think you'd know what that was. Actually, 'Grifter' was my code name. I wore a mask resembling a bandit's bandanna, used guns all the time. Ended up with a few battle scars, although none survived leaving the Experience."

"Oh? Where?"

Mitchell pointed to different areas on his torso, legs and arms. "Here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here."

"It's a wonder you're not dead...wait, take off your shirt."

"Why?"

"I want to make sure you're not just hiding your scars...or anything else, for that matter." Else grinned, putting down her empty glass.

"I don't think that's such a good idea…"

"I knew it." Elsa pouted. "You're just full of empty boasts."

"Now wait a second, here…"

"Put your money where your mouth is, private eye."

Mitchell was no match for an tired brain and a seasoning of alcohol. He shrugged, pushed aside his suspenders and took off his shirt. "There? Satisfied now?"

Elsa looked at him, her eyes practically devouring him, then she pushed forward, forcing Mitchell on his back and straddling his waist. "Not yet...but I WILL be…!"

"Hey, wait just a gosh-darned MMMPH!" Any further protests were cut off as Elsa kissed him, rather enthusiastically. She held him down and kissed him hard, then drew her head back, looking into his eyes.

"Admit it, Mitchell...you've been wanting that since you first saw me. I know I've been wanting it since I first saw you…"

"Elsa...you're tired and drunk, you don't know what you're saying…"

"Oh, I know what I'm saying...I just haven't been tired and drunk enough to have the courage to tell you…" She leaned closer to kiss him again…their eyes closed…

Elsa woke up first, a dull, thumping sensation causing pain in her temples. She shifted and looked down to find herself draped over Mitchell's bared chest. Elsa looked at the full bottle sitting on the floor, the cap protecting them from any chance the bottle might tip over and keep emptying into the apartment.

She sat up and regretted it instantly. "...ow..." she muttered, then looked down at the sleeping Mitchell. An evil idea formed in her head, and she knew she had to act fast.

She got off of him slowly, then slowly worked his pants off, finding out Mitchell was apparently a boxers man. Elsa hiked up her skirt to her waist, took off one of her stockings, unbuttoned her blouse, then carefully crawled back onto his sleeping body, draping herself over him again…

...and then she pulled out a couple of his chest hairs.

As soon as she felt him stir, he closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, waiting for the hilarity to ensue.

Mitchell woke up, blearily looking around, then groaning as he felt his blood pumping painfully through his brain. He looked down...and froze. There was a nearly naked Elsa on his chest and he was having a hard time remembering what happened the night before. He tried to move, then heard her murmur, "Mark...not so hard...first time.."

Oh no oh no oh NO...this is not happening. This is NOT HAPPENING! Okay, get it together...THINK, Waltdammit! Okay….okay...we came home….we both had drinks….and...oh I am so DEAD. I'll need to be cremated TWICE. Mitchell tried to extricate himself from underneath Elsa, no small feat despite Elsa being so willowy. He managed to get halfway out from under her when he realized something. There was a significant lack of..the usual scents that accompany...frenzied intimacy. Come to think of it, there's usually more dampness around…

He stopped as he realized that she was shaking slightly. Light dawned as he looked down at her. "You better be CRYING…!" he said angrily.

Elsa answered, still hiding her laughter, "I AM…!" She shifted, looking up at his face, which inspired new peals of mirth from her as she sat up, buttoning up her blouse.

"That was just plain wrong…!"

"Oh, you had it coming. Admit it to yourself, if not to me. You've been treating me like some pampered, naive Princess. Well, here's the news: I don't do 'pampered' and I really don't do 'naive'. Think about that the next time you get tempted to treat me like a damsel in distress."

Mitchell looked at her for a long time, then reached down and pulled his pants up. "You're still very much a Princess to me in one way."

"Oh? How?" Elsa asked with a smirk on her face.

"You're still a royal pain in my ass!" He turned and walked towards his room to change.

"When that stops being the shortest distance to your BRAIN, then I'll change the way I get your attention!"

The door slammed behind Mitchell and they both had the same thought about the other: Why does that person piss me off so much...and why am I so turned on?!

They drove in silence for some time, then Mitchell finally broke the ice. "Got it out of your system yet?"

"For now. You?" Esa asked, relaxing slightly.

"Yeah. We got a killer to find, and I got questions."

"Go ahead."

"Characterized people are physically identical in every way...but there has to be SOME way to tell them apart. You don't want Elsa12 picking up Elsa5's paycheck."

"Especially since there's a hierarchy in place. The smaller your number, the better the work you can do and the more you can get." Elsa considered. "We need to talk to Francois again. He's the only one who has the information we need.

"All right. Let's hope we catch him on a good day."

As it turned out, they did not.

"HEADS WILL ROLL FOR THIS!" Francois was livid, barking orders as his employees and technicians ran about, doing their level best to keep their jobs. "DO YOU HEAR ME? I WILL HAVE SOMEONE'S LIVER ON A PLATE FOR THIS INSULT!"

"Francois?"

He spun around, getting ready to deliver an onslaught of hostility until he realized who it was. "Mr. Percy, Elsa, darlings! JUST the people I needed to see! It's a DISASTER!"

"What's wrong?" Elsa asked, taken aback by seeing Francois in a way she'd never seen before.

Francois led them back to his office, explaining as he went. "We've been violated! Our internal security was shattered! Someone managed to hack the Characterization Mainframe itself! Oh, the agony! The SHAME!"

"I thought it was impossible," Mitchell said as they went into his office.

Francois threw himself into his chair and put his head in his hands. "It was impossible! When I found out about the breach, I was in utter denial, until the proof was shown to me by the technician that discovered it!"

"What did they take?"

"Emptied out the operational account! Five hundred THOUSAND bucks! They also erased all of the communications logs for the past three months, just out of spite! Oh, how will I explain this to the Big Three? I shall be lucky if I am simply fired!"

Mitchell considered. "Is that all the hacker did?"

Francois looked at him, aghast. "That's not ENOUGH?"

"Tell me about the communications logs. What information is there?"

"Electronic communications, sales reports, appointments, memos…"

"Is that all?"

Francois furrowed his brow, then tapped the intercom. "Send Steven McCall in, immediately."

"Who's that?" Elsa asked.

"He's the only one around here worth a damn. He's the one that informed me about the breach. I have him chasing down where the money went."

The ding at the elevator interrupted Francois as the doors opened. A young man, wearing the uniform he wore while working in a clean room, walked in briskly. "Yes, sir?" Steven asked.

"Refresh my memory, what information does the mainframe handle, besides the communications, memos, financial transactions, appointments and memos?"

"Not much, sir. Character management, payroll, Agent contact information…."

"Wait." Mitchell held up a hand. "Character management. What's that?"

"Assignments, ranking, determining which jobs Actors qualify for…."

"Yeah, can you bring up the records for all the Elsas from two days ago?"

"Sure." Steven pulled up his datapad and started typing in it.

Mitchell watched him for a few moments, then said suddenly, "STOP!"

Steven paused, looking up. "Wh-what is it?" Michael was already up, removing the datapad from Steven's surprised hands. "What did you do that for?"

"I'd like to know that, myself!" Francois said angrily. "Mr. Percy, explain yourself."

Elsa answered for him. "Francois? Please ask your best technician to come in here."

"Why?" Francois asked, bewildered.

"He was in the Operations Room, right? Last time we were there, I noticed that you kept it cold in there, hence the long-sleeved uniforms there?"

"So?"

"If it's always so cold in there….why is Steven sweating?"

Francois' eyes spun to Steven, taking a closer look at him. Francois stabbed the intercom button with his finger. "Get Lucas in here, now!"

Steven tried to pull away from Mitchell, but he might as well have been trying to lift Cinderella's Castle over his head. Mitchell forced him into a chair, then cuffing him to it after making sure the chair was bolted to the floor. The door opened a few minutes after Mitchell finished, revealing another technician. "Yes?"

"Lucas?" Mitchell asked. "I need you to do me a favor." He handed Lucas the datapad. "What was Steven trying to do?"

Lucas took the datapad and frowned. "He was trying to delete archived information…!" He stared at Steven, who looked down. "What…?"

"Show me the Elsa List from yesterday and today. List the changes that he made." Lucas did so, showing the full list of the Elsas, and the current lists, showing which ones were deceased. "There."

"Not there. Besides the deaths, were there any OTHER changes that were made?" Lucas tapped a few buttons, then stopped. Mitchell smiled. "And Bingo was his name-o. Francois, we're heading over to talk to Elsa11...I think she knows who our killer is, and why. Have Commissioner Barker meet us there, but only him."

Francois' face was stone. "With the greatest of pleasure."

The door opened and Elsa11 stood there, dressed in her FROZEN outfit. As she saw the original Elsa and Mitchell, she smiled broadly. "Why, Elsa...it's an honor, truly, to have you come to visit me. To what do I owe the privilege?"

I'm never going to get over how eerie this is, having two Elsas. At least they're not dressed the same. "It's an urgent police matter. May we come in?"

"Of course. Please do." Elsa11's smile flickered. "What's this about? I hope there's nothing serious."

"I'm afraid it is," Elsa said, taking the lead on this conversation. "You've heard about what happened to two of the Elsas, of course."

Elsa11 frowned. "I can't even believe it. I knew Elsa12 quite well, and it horrified me when I found out that she'd been attacked. Would either of you like something to drink? I'm going to have some lemonade."

As Elsa11 went to the kitchen, Mitchell and Elsa followed. "True, I'm sure the news made much of both of the Elsas being taken to the hospital," Elsa said calmly. "But Mitchell's been teaching me a lot about the detective work he does. and I'm starting to see the appeal of his powers of observation. He read the articles in the paper, and pointed out that nothing in the news says why they were taken to the hospital."

Elsa11 poured herself a tall glass and put the pitcher back in the refrigerator. "I just assumed they were because of where they were found."

"Speaking of found, we found out a few other things," Mitchell said, putting a file on the island countertop. "One, we found out that there was going to be some changes to the Elsa roster. Namely, there were going to be three positions removed. This was being kept under wraps, but somebody made the mistake of discussing it while one of the Elsas was in the area. And, due to standard procedure, the three lowest on the roster were going to be the ones cut. Ten, Eleven and Twelve. Now, I hear that there was going to be plenty of recommendations, severance pay, the whole shmear. But that wasn't enough. The herd had to be thinned a little. So one of the Elsas decided to make sure she wouldn't get cut, unless she was the one doing the cutting."

"That's HORRIBLE! And you think I'm a target?!" Elsa12 asked, nearly dropping her glass.

"Sort of. We think we're closing in on the killer. We caught someone trying to hack the Characterization system earlier today."

"That's impossible. The system cannot be tampered with. Francois said so!"

"He did...but this wasn't someone from the outside trying to get access." Elsa smiled. "This was an inside job. They stole a great deal of money and information, but that was just a smokescreen, a benefit to hide the real target. They were trying to hide something. Namely...an edit to the roster." Elsa's smile began to slip. "Namely, an edit to your place on the roster."

"Why someone edit my place?" Elsa12 asked, looking bewildered.

"Because they wanted to hide that it wasn't Elsa11 that was murdered...it was Elsa12." The smile was gone. "YOU'RE Elsa11."

"That...that's absurd! Why would I do something like that?"

"Simple. Technically, Elsa11 is already dead, so who would suspect her of being the killer? You approached Steven outside Studio Grounds and made him an offer he couldn't refuse. You found out about his weakness for Elsa and I imagine that he was pretty loyal after you 'showed him around your backyard' a few times. You got him to cover for you, leaving you free to act while people thought Elsa11 was a cold corpse."

"Elsa12" stood there, stunned. "I can't believe that you'd believe some poor, dumb technician who'd slander me to save his own skin! You said yourself, he stole money! I didn't benefit at all! I'm still in the same position I was before, at the lowest end of the totem pole!"

"Maybe...but I'll be willing to bet that it was enough for you to be there. Look at you. One of the most beautiful women in the Sphere. Who cared if you were the last on the list? Being in the list was enough for you."

Elsa11 smiled, pulling out the pistol she'd hidden in the refrigerator. "Pretty good, detective. You'll forgive me if I don't clap."

"WHY?" Elsa asked. "Why would you kill them? They didn't do anything to you!"

"You couldn't POSSIBLY understand, Elsa, you've always looked that way. So fair, so perfect. How could you even comprehend what it's like to go through life hideous and become someone so gorgeous?" She walked out from behind the island, moving closer. "I wasn't going after you for the third target, anyhow, but it doesn't matter. You two came over to harass me, Elsa reveals that she's the killer trying to get rid of everyone that looks like her, she draws the murder weapon, shoots the detective stupid enough to fall for her charms, we struggle for the weapon and it goes off…" As she spoke, her face became more and more distraught, tears coming to her eyes. "It's such a horrible, HORRIBLE thing to happen to me...and when the police come...they'll be forced to accept my version of the events, because they're rather moronic that way."

"Elsa, turn 180 degrees, now!" Mitchell said suddenly. Elsa blinked, then chose to trust Mitchell's instincts and spun around.

Elsa11 blinked. Mitchell smiled. "So, Elsa11, how are you going to sell fighting for the gun if she's shot in the back?"

"I'm not worried...I'll be able to feed them any story I like, because I'm a Feature Character! I could tell them the flying monkeys from The Wizard Of Oz were responsible and they'd believe it!"

Mitchell stood between the two Elsas. "Somehow, I don't think they will."

"You doubt my acting abilities?"

"No, I'm sure you're a great actress. But there's something you've overlooked."

"This should be amusing. What have I overlooked?"

Mitchell sighed, almost defeatedly. "Your kitchen door." Elsa11's eyes went wide as she heard the click of a hammer being pulled back directly behind her. "Did you get all that, Commissioner?"

"Every word, Percy. Kindly drop the gun, Miss Wood."

"My NAME…" Elsa11 said firmly, "is ELSA."

"Not anymore. Francois pulled you from the Roster several minutes ago. He tells me that you should revert back to your original face by the time you're arraigned tomorrow morning." Barker said with a harsh tone in his voice.

Mitchell watched as Elsa11's face showed a terrifying look of comprehension, then she pulled up the gun she was holding fast. He yelled out, "STOP!" as Elsa11 pulled the gun up, pressed the muzzle under her jaw, and fired once.

Mitchell and Elsa moved away quickly as Barker stood there, completely dumbfounded as Elsa11 fell to the floor, lying on her back, blood pooling around her head. The bullet had made a mess leaving her body, and blood and other gore covered Barker's head and the cabinets behind him.

Elsa moved out from behind Mitchell, looking down at Elsa11. "Mitchell?"

"Yes?"

"Get me out of here...right now."

Mitchell opened the door to his office, helping Elsa inside. She was still in shock and sat down dumbly as Mitchell went to pour Elsa a double. "Here, drink this."

"I don't want…"

"I know you don't want it. Drink it anyways. Trust me."

Elsa took the drink, looked at it, then knocked it back like a pro. She winced as she put the glass down.

Mitchell sat down. "Want me to take you home?"

"And leave me alone in the house? Thanks, but no thanks." She shook her head. "I don't understand any of this. Why did she do that? Why was looking like me so important to her that she'd KILL to maintain it? The worst part is, I remember what she looked like before the Characterization. She wasn't ugly at all. She was pretty." Elsa sighed."It's all so messed up...I just don't understand it."

"It's a bad situation, and it's cruel and insane and twisted. Don't worry about it if it doesn't make sense to you. If any of this ever DOES start to make sense to you...THEN you should worry." He sat down across from her in his recliner.

"What are you going to do now?" Elsa asked, calming down a little more.

"Expect more work. Until the situation is fixed, I've got a feeling I'm going to see more clients come through that door. I'm going to be talking more with Barker in the next month than I have in the past few years." Mitchell shrugged. "Maybe I'll talk to Francois about getting my face added to the Characterization database. I could use the bucks." He looked at Elsa. "Put any thought into what you want to do next?"

"...I don't know." She closed her eyes. "I didn't realize I was so, well, sheltered. I thought what I had was everything I needed. Fame, fortune, respect, influence...and I almost lost it all over a nice-penny bullet." She opened her eyes to look at Mitchell. "You were willing to take a bullet for me. As soon as you realized she was willing to kill me, you stepped in front of her gun."

"I wasn't about to let her hurt you, you know."

Elsa raised her head a little higher. "Really?"

"Yeah. The Big G would've had me skinned for a RUG."

Elsa stared at him….then made a "snerk" sound. Mitchell grinned as Elsa stood up, walked over to him and smacked his shoulder, HARD. "You son of a….female canine!"

"I can prove my lineage beyond a shadow of a doubt." Mitchell chuckled and Elsa found it hard not to smile, feeling as if the air had been let out of the ballooning anxiety she's been feeling.

"Yeah, I think I'm going to need evidence." She wiped her eyes, feeling suddenly awkward. "I'm not...I don't want to go home yet."

"Elsa…"

"Look, don't get the wrong idea, but….I need to do some thinking, and it's too soon to go home to a house where my only friends are in the business. I can't even tell people the truth about what happened; or else I'll be blacklisted or worse. All I can tell anyone is that I've been sick...which isn't that far from the truth...and that I haven't heard anything about why two of the Elsas left."

"Yeah, welcome to my world. A private investigator who is loose-lipped about their clients ends up going hungry. I've got a feeling there's going to be more investigations to help keep a lid on things until SHODAN gets its act together." Mitchell got up. "How do you feel about pizza?"

"...make it deep dish and you got a deal."

Mitchell walked into Commissioner Barker's office, making sure to knock. On his way in. "Morning, Commish. What's the word?"

Barker sighed. "Official word is that three of the Elsas were cut loose due to inability to handle the pressures of the work. The Studio gets its cutbacks, roster's updated, and everybody's happy...and that's all I'm going to say about it."

Mitchell understood perfectly. "Well, some people can't handle the pressures of show business."

"And what would YOU know about show biz? You've been out of the Experience for years."

"That 'there's no business like it, no business I know,' in the words of another detective I met once."

"Good Walt, ANOTHER detective around here. What was HE like?"

Mitchell smiled broadly. "He was quite valiant. So, got my money ready?"

"Yeah...and a surprise." Barker wasn't smiling. "And I blame YOU for this."

"What?" he asked right before the door behind him opened. He turned around and saw who it was. "WHAT?"

"Hello, shamus," Elsa said with a smile, dressed like Humphrey Bogart from the last scene in CASABLANCA.

"What in the name of the Big Three are you doing here?"

"Three good reasons. One, work's gotten more manageable due to the cutbacks, so I have a lot more time on my hands."

"How nice for you," Mitchell said dryly.

"Two, a certain someone suggested the idea that we stick together to make sure certain uncomfortable truths do not come to light. Here's a hint: it's the seventh letter of the alphabet."

"Oh. OH. Huh...and the third?"

Elsa smiled. "As a great Character once said, 'everybody's gotta have a hobby.' I want to help people, and you said it yourself, I can get us into places you can't get into on your own. So I want to be your assistant. Teach me how to do what it is that you do, observation, deduction, the whole nine yards."

Mitchell stared at her. "Have you gone quietly out of your MIND? You've seen just a fragment of my job. It's not all facing down master criminals or dealing with shadowy thugs. Sometimes it's monotonous, boring and DULL. Long hours, late nights, and not every case that goes past my desk gets solved. Cases go cold, witnesses disappear and sometimes, the work can be frustrating beyond sanity."

"So why do you do it?" Elsa asked pointedly.

Mitchell continued to look into her eyes, then sighed and admitted, "I like helping people and I don't know any other way to do it."

"Well, I'm an Actor. How often does someone like me help people, regular people, the kind of people that need help the most? This work may not be the most glamorous or exciting, but you're one of the Good Guys...and I felt what you do, just for a few moments." Elsa began to take slow steps closer to him. "I can't go back to being just another pretty face, not after feeling that. I need to feel that again….and you can give me that feeling, Mitchell." She stopped, looking into his eyes.

Barker's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "Okay, that's it, I have officially gone completely crazy, I AM NOT SEEING THIS…!"

Mitchell cleared his throat, then mentally reasserted himself. "Okay. I'l make you a deal. Six months, you're my assistant. During that time, you do what I say, when I say it, how I say it...in a PROFESSIONAL CAPACITY."

"Done," she said with a smile.

"Not finished. This is a job, which means you're going to schedule your Actor roles around my schedule, not the other way around. Contract or no contract, you work for me, my way or the highway. And if anyone has any problems with it, you tell them to talk to your boss, aka ME. Got it?"

"Agreed. Anything else?"

"Yeah. Don't dress like a detective from the movies. You're going to need good, solid clothes, stuff that will get dirty and smelly. Sensible clothes, sensible shoes, sensible hats. You're dressing down, not up."

Elsa smiled. "Fine. I'll take those off here."

"WHAT?" Barker and Mitchel gasped in unison as Elsa tossed off her hat and trenchcoat, revealing a professional-looking blouse and skirt, with lace-up shoes with a two-inch flat heel. She had gone with minimal makeup and a serious expression. "Better?"

Mitchell groaned. "WHEN are you going to stop pulling these surprises on me?"

"The moment it stops being funny. Let's go, boss. Meet you at the Packard." She walked out the door while the two men just watched.

Mitchell said without turning, "What did I just get myself into?"

"I dunno, Percy, but I do have a few words of advice for all the headaches you're going to have over the next six months."

"Yeah? And those words are?"

Barker turned to him with a grin. "Just...let it go."

Mitchell gave him a look that could peel paint. "Barker, even when you're not trying to be funny...you're not funny." He stormed out of the office and ran after Elsa.

Commissioner Barker smiled and sat back in his chair behind his desk. "Mitchell Percy...you poor dumb fool…"

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TO BE CONTINUED….