It was funny how she didn't realize she'd been avoiding her reflection until she happened to catch a glimpse of it in the rearview mirror of the GTO. Of course, she'd looked into a mirror many times over the past weeks, but her eyes always searched for the things she found familiar - her eyes, the way the bridge of her nose sloped downward - it was almost exactly like it used to be, before Micky turned her life inside out.

The two of them - the mad scientist and the guinea pig - were supposed to be driving to the airport to fetch Davy, who was returning from a trip back home. But the moment she reached up to adjust the mirror and caught a glimpse of her jawline, and how her lips were so much more feminine than they were supposed to be, Sugar experienced a moment of utter panic when the knowledge that she was looking in a mirror clashed with the fact that the person staring back wasn't her. Him. Her?!

She grappled for the door handle, shouldered the door open, and only just made it out of the car before she lost her lunch.

As she was still sputtering, she registered the sound of the passenger side door opening, and a moment later, Micky's hand was on her shoulder.

"…When did you eat that?!" he asked.

Unable to help it, Sugar chuckled.

"Seriously, though," Micky went on. "What the heck was that about?"

With her head still spinning, all she could really manage was, "I'm a girl."

"I honestly hadn't noticed," Micky said flatly, helping her to her feet. As she took a couple deep breaths, lip curling from the taste still in her mouth, he added, "You were doin' so good, Shug, what happened?"

"Just… moments."

"…You gonna be okay? You want me to go get Davy on my own?"

The panic subsided, she took another deep breath, and smiled. "Pff. If I let you drive without supervision, you'll find a way t'crash the car into a flyin' airplane. Go on, I'll drive."

—-

With everyone safe at home, and their little English friend sound asleep after his long plane ride, Sugar still felt restless. The feeling, honestly, had come and gone in a way she couldn't explain - one moment she was sick, and the next, absolutely fine. And it had something to do with her reflection.

Eventually, when thinking about the situation yielded no results or answers, she stormed off to the bathroom so she could get a good look at herself in the mirror.

Unsure what to expect, Sugar was completely surprised that she really felt nothing at all. There was enough about her reflection that she recognized as herself that it didn't seem weird to look at it. Of course, it still felt weird, considering the things she saw that were just all wrong - most notably, a shapely chest that she feared she'd never get used to - but overall, she'd come to accept the abomination of science that she saw staring back as her.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that no matter how hard she tried, she was seeing less of Michael Nesmith in that face. Her hair was already longer, parted a little differently and held out of her face with barrettes instead of that old green wool hat that she missed so much. There was something about her confused expression that seemed - well, the only way she could really describe it was less male. Even her eyes, the old fallback where she searched to re-discover her identity, seemed less his and more hers.

She didn't recognize the person reflected back at her.

First, she felt a stab of fear. The very next moment, the mirror in front of her was gone, and her hand hurt; she could only conclude that she'd struck the glass, although she couldn't quite remember doing so.

Her knuckles were bleeding. By some miracle, she hadn't injured herself too badly, though, and reached for the roll of toilet paper sitting on the vanity. Unraveling it, she wrapped it around her fingers, cursing quietly, hoping that maybe no one had heard the shattering mirror.

But Peter appeared at the open door, giving Sugar a once-over as she stared back. Angry with herself, she was daring him with her eyes to say something to set her off, to give her an excuse to yell and rant and rave and otherwise cover up the fear with her shouting. Had it been Michael who'd come to the door, maybe she could goad him into a fight, but the blond young man who was standing in front of her looked at her with neither incredulity or pity. His eyes always had a strange sort of hope to them, unjudging, disarming.

"We'll, uh, need another mirror," she said, abashed. Sliding down the wall, she sat on the floor across from the vanity, nursing her hurt hand. Most of the glass had fallen into the sink, but Peter bent down to pick up the bits that hadn't, setting them safely out of the way, before he sat down next to her.

"You know, that's seven years' bad luck," he said quietly, attempting a weak smile.

Sugar laughed. "Oh, I dunno how it can get much worse than what I've been through."

Of course, she immediately thought of a dozen ways it could get worse, but by then, it was too late to take what she'd said back.

Peter hesitated, then inched a little closer to her. This cramped space wasn't exactly the best place to talk things through, but at this point, Sugar had exhausted herself in one short burst of panicked adrenaline, and didn't feel much like moving. Peter, being the kind soul that he was, didn't complain, and when he'd slid close enough, she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Not exactly the romance you were expectin', eh?" she asked.

"I'm just here as a friend right now, Sugar."

"I 'ppreciate it, Pete."

And there they sat, for maybe a half hour, just staring at the toilet.

"Ah'm startin' to put the pieces of the puzzle together," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Seein' the whole picture, instead of just the bits I wanna see."

He hesitated for a beat, before asking, "Is that… good?"

"It hurts," she said, her breath hitching. Peter's arm was instantly around her, holding her close. "But y'can't do much with your life 'til you accept who y'are." She paused, then added, "Or in my case, what y'are."

"Hey! You're not a 'what.' You're a 'who!'" Peter turned toward her, looking almost angry, albeit with his lower lip sticking out in a pout. When she smiled and rolled her eyes, he settled back against the wall, and she put her head back on his shoulder. Up until now, it was as much affection as she was willing to show, other than the occasional "accidental" kiss.

"I'm a what," she said. Leaning forward a bit, she reached for his hand, her fingers hovering over it as doubts crept back into her thoughts. She had to move on. She had to stop thinking about what the other guys would think, what Michael would think, or how she was going to make this work long-term. And as her hand shook, Peter reached up, gently took her wrist, and guided her hand away, back onto her knee.

"You don't have anything to prove to me," he said. But before he could release her, she took his hand in both of hers and gave it a squeeze.

And that was it. That was all she could manage. Quietly, she went back to fussing with the tissue bandage she'd tied around her fingers.

This time, it was Peter who broke the silence. "I know you guys think that I don't… That I don't get things," he said. "But I know. I… just don't know how to say it."

Interested, Sugar asked, "Can y'try?"

He bit his lip, meeting her eyes. She found it hard not to look away, and realized that lately, her eye contact with almost anyone had been fleeting at best. Wanting Peter to know that anything he had to say would be perfectly safe with her, she even offered a smile.

"I just like you for who you are. I know who you are in your memories, and… And I know that it's not exactly… Uh… normal… acceptable…"

"Conventional," she supplied.

"Yeah, that." He offered a genuine, beaming smile. "But you are who you are. And— And whether or not I'm in your life in any way from now until whenever, I'll always think you're the most awesome person I've ever met."

"Ever?" Sugar asked dubiously.

"Are you kidding? I don't think most of the people I know could go through what you did and still smile. I don't think I could."

She chuckled. "Well. The reality's still settling. Let's see how I'm doing in a few years."