THE DOPPELGÄNGER, Chapter 10

Elsie swore under her breath. Try as she might, she couldn't maintain a consistent tension on the bandage around her wrist; whenever she'd let go of the tape to circle around beneath there followed an inevitable reduction in tautness, forcing her to start the process all over again.

It was decidedly not a one-handed job.

A week after the injury and her wrist still hadn't improved. Time was running out.

There was no longer any point in denying it - there was physical damage. Exactly how bad, she couldn't be sure. But with her New York job barely two weeks away, she had to get the swelling down at the very least.

Her lack of a dedicated compression bandage had compelled her to improvise; using a roll of generic elastic gauze, she hoped applying enough tension would make an adequate substitute. But what she'd imagined would be a simple task was proving to be frustratingly difficult.

She needed more hands - even if they happened to be the same ones that had caused the injury in the first place.

"Doppie, can you come in here please?"

A few moments later and the doppelgänger appeared in the bathroom's doorway; as usual, she'd moved through the flat without the slightest hint of a footfall.

Elsie held out her arm, the bandage dangling loosely. "Can you help me with this? I can't keep it tight..."

Doppie's gaze shifted to the blonde's wrist.

"Has it not mended?"

"Not really," replied Elsie. "But I really need to get the swelling down."

The doppelgänger stepped into the bathroom. "Should you not seek treatment? You do have hospitals in this city, yes?"

"Heh...yeah, we do," returned the blonde. "I'm really not feeling the whole hospital thing, though."

A curious look. "Why not?"

"I just...don't, is all. Look, I just need you to wrap this bandage around and keep it snug, okay? I can't keep enough tension on it by myself."

The doppelgänger moved closer and proceeded to unwrap the clumsily-applied bandage from Elsie's wrist.

"This does not look good," said Doppie, eyeing the reddened skin.

"Could've been worse," shot back Elsie without thinking.

"Indeed," agreed the doppelgänger.

Elsie drew in a sharp breath. "Shit...Doppie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rub your nose in it..."

"No need to apologize," returned the doppelgänger matter-of-factly as she began re-applying the dressing. "In my state, it's entirely possible I might've continued until I'd seen bone."

Elsie felt a slight chill at the base of her back.

"That...would've sucked..."

Elsie swallowed nervously. The same hand that had nearly snapped her wrist was now calmly wrapping it in gauze: she'd hardly needed the reminder.

Doppie maintained a constant tension on the bandage with one hand while overlapping each turn in half-inch increments. After several revolutions she paused in her ministrations.

"You were correct in what you said," said the doppelgänger, her gaze focused on the swollen wrist.

"See? Told you," returned the blonde. "Um...about what, exactly?"

"About my regretting this," replied the redhead, her middle finger slowly drawing an invisible line along Elsie's radius.

"Well...you do have a bit of a temper..."

A slow shake of the head. "It's more than that."

Doppie's finger began tracing slow circles against the reddened skin.

The blonde shivered slightly under the unexpectedly gentle touch. "Well...it's water under the bridge now, Doppie..."

"I am dangerous," emphasized the doppelgänger. "My 'major malfunction', as you put it…Lara does not suspect the extent of its sway over me, otherwise I expect she'd never have burdened you."

"You're not a burden -"

Doppie cut short Elsie's attempt at comfort. "As I understand it, Lara's physical abilities were mirrored in me, only significantly augmented...no doubt with an eye to our eventual confrontation."

"I...noticed."

Doppie's gaze shifted up and locked with hers.

"But what you may not know is that in doing so her emotional attributes were also...enhanced. But with significantly less control..."

Elsie smiled consolingly. "You may find this surprising but I noticed that, too..."

"From what I was able to gather, this was unintended," continued the doppelgänger. "I believe it was the reason I was commanded to end my own life immediately after taking hers...to mitigate the design flaws, as it were."

Elsie huffed. "Doppie, you're not a robot!"

A wisp of a smile. "Though I wonder sometimes if perhaps I should be..."

"Hey, don't even think that -"

"You must understand the risks," interjected the doppelgänger seriously, her golden-yellow eyes gazing intently into the blonde's. "I do not share Lara's proficiency at keeping her emotions in check. There is a danger in keeping me here."

"Oh, for - screw the risk!" countered Elsie. "There's risk in everything, Doppie. There's a risk in eating fish, there's a risk in rock climbing, there's a risk in just crossing the street - heck, I nearly got run over just a few days ago! My point is, risk is everywhere. I'm not going to hide from it. And neither are you."

The doppelgänger arched an eyebrow. "You seem...remarkably unperturbed."

Elsie chuckled softly. "Yeah, well...maybe I've just gotten a bit accustomed to risking life and limb when hanging around stunning brunettes."

Doppie craned her neck to gaze in the mirror overlooking the vanity; with her free hand she stroked a lock of chestnut ponytail that had drifted over her shoulder.

"Speaking of which, I should very much like to revert to my own colour..."

"Didn't think about that in your diabolical plot, did you?"

"It was not of immediate importance."

Elsie mulled over her in-house possibilities. "Well, I don't have any dedicated colour remover, but I do have bath salts...I seem to recall something about their having similar properties. But you'll probably have to soak for a good while for that to work..."

She detected a tiny shift in the doppelgänger's demeanour - the subtlest hint of enthusiasm as she resumed wrapping the blonde's wrist.

"I don't mind," said Doppie with false disinterest.

Elsie grinned slyly. "Uh huh..."

~oOo~

"How can you drink that sludge?" asked Rollie as Elsie set the coffee tray atop the supply cabinet.

"It's not 'sludge' okay?" shot back the blonde as she hung her coat and scarf in the wardrobe.

Rollie dropped the ream of paper into the photocopier tray and shook his head. "Liquid candy..."

"Philistine!"

At that same moment Elsie caught side of the imposing form of the Gallery owner storming down the hall towards them - she'd never seen him so visibly annoyed.

Her jaw dropped.

"Er...good morning, Nathan?"

"This is bloody unprofessional," said Nathan Fletcher in an unusually gruff voice. "Three days without so much as a word - Mr. Kaminski, may I trouble you to stop by Mr. Klipman's apartment on your way home after your day's work and advise him of his conditions of employment? Otherwise it appears we may need to procure another photographer."

Rollie nodded. "Absolutely sir, not a problem."

Fletcher strode off, grumbling something about bad references. Rollie leaned close.

"I assumed he was off sick or something," he whispered to Elsie. "He didn't call in since Monday?"

"I...haven't heard," replied the blonde anxiously. "Uh...catch you later, Rollie..."

"Yeah, sure..."

Elsie grasped the coffee tray and scurried down the hall.

Slipping into Gellis' office she slid the coffees onto the desk, profoundly relieved to have escaped the uncomfortable situation brewing in the hall.

The raven-haired woman looked up from her laptop and smiled. "Morning, El."

Elsie smiled back as she popped the French vanilla from the tray. "Hey, how's the little one?"

Gellis struck a few keys and turned to the blonde, gratefully accepting the professed coffee. "Oh, she's fine. You know kids - walking germ magnets. Thanks for covering for me yesterday, by the way."

"No worries," returned Elsie. "Besides I owed you big time for Monday...whatever happened to the folio, by the way? Did he buy?"

Gellis' features turned sheepish. "Oh, yeah..."

"Uh-oh...how much?"

The raven-haired woman hesitated, her expression pained. "Forty-nine thousand..."

"Ouch..."

"Yeah."

"Well, if it's any consolation you got a better price than I could've," consoled the blonde, flopping down in one of the guest chairs. "I'd probably have ended up selling it at a loss..."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not a seller, Gel!" exclaimed the Elsie plaintively. "Do you have any idea how edgy I was handling a piece like that? I've never sold anything even remotely close to that price!"

Gellis laughed. "It's the same as buying, El, I don't know why you're freaking out. Heck, you've procured stuff that cost that much and more for the Gallery, what's the big deal?"

"Because when you're buying you can just walk away," countered the blonde. "Selling is where all the pressure lies."

"Come on, don't sell yourself short," said Gellis consolingly. "It'll get easier, don't you worry."

Elsie tested a small sip of coffee and grimaced - too hot.

"Not for me it won't," she maintained. "I feel like such a con artist when I sell something, Gel, I don't think I'll ever get used to that. I was a total neophyte compared to that dude...he was a former Harvard Dean, for God's sake!"

"How is that conning someone?" countered the raven-haired woman. "You're just trying to get fair value, is all. It's not like you were trying to sell him a fake now, is it?"

Elsie sighed. "Well...no, of course not, but..."

Gellis idly traced a finger along the coffee cup's lid.

"Who was that girl, by the way?"

Elsie blinked. "Uh...girl?"

Gellis' dark eyes became impish. "Yeah, you know...a member of the female gender."

"Oh, her...yeah, she's...a friend."

The raven-haired woman turned contemplative. "Hmm...have I ever met her before?"

Elsie shook her head - perhaps a little too vigorously, she thought in retrospect. "No, I wouldn't think so."

"She seems familiar, though," continued Gellis pensively. "I could swear I've seen her before."

Elsie felt her anxiety slowly rising. "She...probably just reminds you of someone..."

"I dunno," mused the raven-haired woman. "That's not the kind of face one tends to forget...has she ever been on television?"

"Um, not that I'm aware..."

"Does she vlog?"

"I don't think so."

God, let go of it, Gel...

"She from around here?"

Dammit...

"Not really, no..."

Gellis tilted her head. "Well, you're no fun. Why so cryptic...?"

A slow realization crossed the raven-haired woman's features.

Oh, shit...

"Hang on," said Gellis, her mouth forming into a mischievous smile, "A friend, eh? Could it be that our little Elsie has finally found Miss Right?"

"Oh, for - no!"

The blonde jumped from the chair and bolted for the door.

"Hey, I was just joking - El, wait!"

But Elsie was already halfway down the hall.

~oOo~

"So...see anything you like?"

The doppelgänger briefly scanned the sea of clothing racks.

"They're garments," she said listlessly.

"Well, d'uh," countered Elsie. "That's kinda why we came here, remember? I told you it was time you got your own wardrobe...so c'mon, have a look around, pick something."

With her gaze locked on Elsie the doppelgänger's arm shot out and pulled a canary yellow dress from the nearest rack. She handed it to the blonde without so much as a cursory glance.

"Oh, come on!" said Elsie. "That's a maternity dress, you're not even trying!"

"How does this help me?" returned the doppelgänger. "Explain me how the colour of my garb makes a difference."

Elsie slipped the dress back to its rack. "It's part of you forging your own identity. What we choose to wear has a certain role to play in that regard, trivial as it might seem."

Doppie turned to gaze across the myriad clothing racks peppering the department store. "But it seems so unimportant. They all fulfill the same purpose, they merely look different."

"Well, from a survival aspect, sure," admitted the blonde. "But there's more to life than simply surviving, Doppie..."

She grabbed the redhead's arm and tugged her over to a nearby rack of trendy tops. "Okay, now these seem more your style...what's your favourite colour?"

Doppie looked dubious. "Why would one be superior to another?"

Elsie took a deep breath and pressed her hand to her forehead. "Just humour me...don't you have any preferences at all?"

"Since you press me, I would prefer earthy tones," conceded the doppelgänger. "Clothing that would blend in to the environment and enhance camouflage -"

"Oh, for - we're not shopping for an upcoming commando operation, all right?"

She snatched an ochre Camudo blouse from the rack.

"Here," she said, thrusting the garment at the doppelgänger. "Try this on."

Doppie arched an eyebrow. "I thought this was to establish my identity?"

"Yeah, well, you're kinda forcing me to jumpstart the process," argued the blonde. "Just try it on, okay? We'll go from there."

The redhead contemplated the garment.

Her fingers drifted down to her hemline. And began pulling it up.

"Not here!" blurted Elsie, hastily tugging the doppelgänger's hands back down. "Cripes, Doppie..."

She pulled the redhead to one of the nearby change rooms.

"Not exactly Victorian, are you?"

She waited near the alcove until Doppie emerged clad in the ochre top. The garment was attractive, trendy, and yet utterly unpretentious. She could imagine it as part of Lara's own wardrobe, which was one reason she'd selected it - it would've suited the archaeologist.

But sadly, it suited Doppie less so: though their physiques were identical, the doppelgänger's coppery-red hair wasn't really gelling with the garment's ochre hue.

Elsie herded the doppelgänger back into the alcove. "Take it off and wait here. I'll be back in just a bit."

A brief rummage through the nearest clothing racks revealed a promising candidate - a light turquoise tank top that incorporated a pair of lovely brass loops into the shoulder straps.

Ah, now this...

She made her way back to the change room and tossed the garment over the partition. "Try that."

Elsie gaped as the redhead emerged moments later. "That is...wow..."

The doppelgänger turned to look at her reflection in a nearby mirror, twisting her body to inspect various angles. "I suppose it does have a certain aesthetic quality."

Elsie bit her lip. The top was thin and form-fitting, underlining every one of the doppelgängers ridiculously flawless curves. There was no denying it - Doppie was hot.

But then how could she not be? She was Lara's mirror, after all.

"Okay, that one's a keeper," said Elsie, swallowing. "Take it off and put the first one back on the hanger...I'll be right back..."

She explored the myriad racks, collecting a half dozen items she thought would suit the redhead. One, a particularly lovely emerald green tank top caused her to hesitate - it sported a daring scoop neckline that might conceivably make Madonna blush.

Okay, is this for me or for her...?

Elsie felt a twinge of guilt. But then, she had rolled her pennies and scrounged her last few remaining dollars in order to procure the doppelgänger her own wardrobe, hadn't she?

She could allow herself this one little indulgence.

Yes, dammit...

She added it to the pile of garments draped over her arm. She shifted to the side as she heard someone approach from behind, but no one passed her. Was there not enough room?

She turned to the patron. "I'm sor-ACK!"

Doppie stood before her: she'd duly removed the turquoise top but had alarmingly neglected to replace it.

Elsie threw her accumulated bundle at the doppelgänger who caught it out of reflex, the collection at least managing to partly conceal the redhead's state of undress. But the blonde wasn't taking any chances.

"Back! Back!" she uttered urgently as she frantically ushered the doppelgänger back to the change room. "Cripes, Doppie! Did anyone see you?"

"I neglected to take a count," said the doppelgänger dryly.

As Elsie closed the dressing room door she caught sight of a pair of teenaged girls giggling in their direction, smartphones in hand.

Great...I guess the surveillance camera dudes will have a field day, too...hope this doesn't go viral...

Elsie sighed and made a mental note to have a talk with the doppelgänger on the tenets of modesty.

~oOo~

"That was offside! Oh, come on!"

Elsie stomped her foot in frustration as the play continued without stoppage. Doppie, for her part, had reclined on the far side of the futon and had long since given up watching the hockey game and was instead engrossed in Elsie's copy of Blood and Mistletoe.

It was only when a scrap broke out on the ice that the doppelgänger's interest suddenly returned to the television.

The two enforcers pounded each other violently, the Bruins' player eventually catching his opposite number with a solid right to the jaw which sent the Flyer crumpling to the ice. The Boston fans in the stands erupted in approval.

"Why'd he just stop?" asked Doppie as the Bruin skated off towards the penalty box.

Elsie glanced at the redhead. "Huh?"

"His opponent is unconscious," remarked the doppelgänger. "He could've attacked him with impunity."

"You're kidding, right?"

"And he's wearing ice skates," continued Doppie. "He could've simply decap-"

"Thank you, Miss Caligula!" interjected Elsie sharply, snatching up the remote and hitting the system shutdown button. "Wow...into blood sports, much?"

The doppelgänger regarded her with that frustratingly cryptic expression.

The blonde chuckled. "Well, I guess I'll have to teach you the intricacies of organized sport...but it's getting late anyway. Some of us have to work. Let's hit the sack, shall we?"

Doppie scanned the living room.

"I mean go to bed," clarified the blonde as she pushed off the couch.

"Oh..."

To her credit, the doppelgänger had acceded to the blonde's request and assembled the bunk bed earlier that day: now would come its first real test.

As thanks Elsie had given the redhead the top bunk - not that the redhead expressed anything remotely approaching thanks for the gesture, of course. Getting the doppelgänger to even agree to sleep had required a careful mix of supplication and negotiating. And in the end the top bunk had sealed the deal. Doppie still wasn't enthusiastic about it, but at least she'd climbed into her bunk without complaint.

Elsie closed her book and flicked off the mushroom lamp, pressing her cheek to the pillow. In the bunk above, all had been silent for some time - it was hard to believe there was even someone in the room with her.

"Doppie?"

"Yes?"

"Just checking..."

Elsie relaxed slightly; it was strangely comforting to have the doppelgänger close at hand, all things considered. Perhaps on this night her slumber wouldn't be quite so jittery.

She lay in silence, contemplating the day's events when a thought drifted to her.

"Um...Doppie?"

"I was under the impression you desired me to sleep?"

"I do," confirmed the blonde. "Sorry, it's just that...you mentioned you have Lara's physical abilities...her skills and such."

"Correct."

"Does that…extend to other things?"

Silence.

"What I mean is...you can obviously read, so...I was wondering..."

"I do share her academic knowledge," said the doppelgänger.

"I see..."

Outside the October winds picked up, the old flat protesting with creaks and groans. Yes, she was doubly grateful for the doppelgänger's presence.

"So...could you go out and archaeologize?"

"Yes," returned the doppelgänger dryly. "If I so desired, I could...'archaeologize'."

"Would you want to?" asked the blonde. "I mean, having the knowledge is one thing...but does it interest you at all?"

"While I share Lara's academic abilities," explained the redhead, "I do not possess the academic credentials. I would be a charlatan."

"But...does it interest you?"

There was a hesitation before Doppie responded.

"Yes," she finally said softly. "But my involvement in the field would be fraught with risk. For Lara, certainly."

Elsie swallowed her bottom lip. She was right, of course.

Lara was a known quantity in archaeological circles; heck, even Gellis had almost recognized her. Were the archaeologist's twin to take up the same profession as her template it would only be a matter of time before someone put two and two together and realized there were two Lara Crofts in the world.

And then what? Lara was an only child - no manner of explanation could adequately account for the doppelgänger's existence.

Twins separated at birth? Might work for a Hollywood production but hardly in real life.

"I see your point," conceded the blonde. "That kinda sucks for you, tough..."

Silence.

"Doppie?"

"I'm still here."

"We'll figure something out...I promise."

Elsie pressed her head deeper into her pillow and smiled.

"And Doppie...?"

"Yes…"

"I'm really glad you came back."

Elsie had almost drifted off when ear ears picked up an almost imperceptible whisper, so faint that she wondered if she'd imagined it.

"As am I..."