Mirage surveyed the crowd over her sunglasses, holding a clipboard close to her chest. Her white hair looked stark against the black dress suit she wore, her heels clicking on the floor as she walk through the crowd, eyeing each invention with spectacular interest.

But she knew none of them were going to interest her boss quite like the presentation that had just been wrapped up on the far side of the stage. a young boy- Japanese, by the looks of him- had just finished exhibiting his invention; 'microbots', as he had called them. From what she had seen, they were able to do anything.

And all you had to do was think.

Mirage pretended to look at her clipboard, watching as the boy was joined b his friends and family, as well as a few visitors. An older man approached, handing him a letter. Smiling to herself, she reached up and pressed a button on a bluetooth device in her ear, the tool cold against her skin.

"I've located a possible attraction, sir," she said matter-of-factly into the receiver. There was a bit of rambling on the other end until a scraggly voice made it's way through, vibrating in her ear.

"I saw," he said, and Mirage nodded; it seemed her boss was able to know everything. "When can you get them to me?" The woman walked a bit closer to the group, careful to make it look like she was coercing with colleagues. Of course, a few of them were confused as to why she was there, but she ignored them, keeping her eye on the group as they huddled around the boy with the microbots.

Flipping her white hair over her shoulder, Mirage threw bad her shoulders just as she saw the group diverse, leaving the man who had given the boy the envelope all by his lonesome.

Perfect.

Heels clicking on the tiled floor, Mirage reached up to turn on her bluetooth headset, make it look as if she were making some sort of important call, flipping through papers on her clipboard for emphasis; of course, all these papers had absolute nonsense written on them, a few of them blank, as they were just for show.

Mirage stopped in her tracks when another man had approached the professor, the two of them arguing- she thought she had heard the words "death" and "Abigail," but she couldn't be certain- for a few minutes before he stormed off, leaving the second man to inspect other inventions alone. Well, Mirage thought as she looked around, I'll have to speed things up, it seems.

The noise in the exhibition room had seemed to quiet as Mirage focused on the professor's back, making sure to look busy as she followed him, darting in and out of the crowd like an eel. He breathing hitched in her throat as she went.

This had to go exactly as planned, no matter what.

Mirage had managed to get a few feet away from him, now breaking into a light jog. Alright, Mirage, she psyched herself up, at the precise moment, you stall him, got it? But there was no need to give herself a pep talk. She and everything under control.

"Ready?" her boss's voice was staticky through the bluetooth.

"Yeah," Mirage said, "I've got it all under wraps."

"I'll have the car ready for you out back," said the boss, and there was a click as he went offline. Mirage sighed. She was now a foot away from the professor, save for a few visitors who just couldn't seem to get out of her way, eyeing gear with annoyance as she pretended to bump into one of them.

As she apologized (and quite loudly), she noticed to of the corner of her eye the professor stealing a glance back at her before turning around again, fists clenched.

Perfect, she thought, pretending one again to inspect and scribble on a set of non-existent notes.

She was now thirteen inches away from him, their shadows elongated under the fluorescent lights.

She and to do it soon.

Ten inches.

The professor had stopped to talk with someone.

Mirage beta t talk into her bluetooth headset, "Yes, sir. Now, when do you need those files by?" She stopped for a minute to scribble on her notepad. Glancing up, she met eyes with him, and sent him a polite smile.

If she looked to obvious, then the plan wouldn't work.

"Yes sir," she nodded, looking away from the professor, "I can have them in your office by three that afternoon." Mirage decided to steal another glance, this time darting her eyes around the room as the professor had looked at her curiously once more.

It looked like he was finishing up his conversation anyway. In fact, she heard his heavy footfalls, and she knew. "Well, Miss Turner isn't able to cancel her appointment unless we move it."

She took a few distracted steps, aware of the man's presence.

Now.

"I can have security call Miss Turner to-oh!"

Mirage spun just in time to collie with the man's chest, skillfully tossing herself to the floor like a rag doll. Her clipboard flew from her fingers, clattering a few feet away as she landed with a thud on the shiny waxed floor.

"I-I'm so sorry, Ma'am!" she heard the professor say, and Mirage smiled to herself before putting on an alarmed face, hoping it wasn't obvious. She let him help her up, his large, beefy hands almost wrapping completely around her forearm. She nodded gratefully as someone else picked up her clipboard, handing it to her.

"Are you alright?" the professor asked as Mirage brushed herself off, heaving her chest. She nodes, brushing her hair out of her face. Thankfully, her bluetooth was still in her ear, and she let her hands graze it slightly.

Now she had to apologize to her "manager."

"I'm sorry sir, I just uh, collided with someone is all- I'll have them call Miss Turner for you tomorrow." Sighing with contempt, Mirage lowered her hand, turning to face the man she had hit.

HIs brown eyes were filled with worry, a large bulbous nose sitting between them and a square jaw. Mirage blinked, taken aback before she cleared he throat.

"I'm so sorry, sir, did I hit you?" she said. The manshook his head.

"No, it was my fault, really, " he said, "Just be a little more careful next time, alright? We don't want a young woman such as yourself getting hurt again." He smiled, but Mirage could tell there was a sort of bitterness in his tone along with the gesture- something that could only have stemmed from his previous argument.

Something, she guessed, that had to do with this "Abigail's" supposed "death."

I could use that to my advantage, Mirage thought, putting ton a megawatt smile, clutching her clipboard to her chest. It annoyed her to have to play the goody-goody character, but someone had to do it, after all.

"Of course, sir," she agreed cheerfully, "Uh, sir?"

"Yes?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Could you direct me towards the nearest exit?" she asked, brushing her hair behind her ear, "I have a meeting to get to, and I forgot where I parked my car in the lot." At his agreement, a simple curt nod, she knew she had him baited.

It was even better that he agreed to help her find her "car," making the plan so much easier.

"Professor Robert Callaghan, by the way," said the man, holding a hand out. Mirage took it gingerly.

"Mir..iam Stanley," Mirage covered quickly, "nice to meet you. Are you a professor here at the university?" Professor Callaghan nodded, beaming proudly.

"I teach the robotics classes here," he explained, "I actually just gave a few students their acceptance letters, which in itself is fairly exciting." Mirage nodded, although she felt like she was about to fall asleep. She cared nothing for the university or it's classes or its students.

But Robert Callaghan was the only way she could get those damn microbots to her boss. So she had to play along. Mirage cleared her throat, licking her lips before answering him.

"Yes, I saw one of the presentations- Hiro Hamada with his microbots, correct?" she said, "Those could definitely make a breakthrough in the scientific community, no?" She peered down at her clipboard, flipping through the pages until she got to the back. A large yellow envelope was hidden underneath, and Mirage had realized they had gotten to the exit.

Time to switch things up.

"Oh, no!" she cried, flipping rapidly through her papers, "I can't believe I forgot something!" Callaghan stopped short, giving her a nervous look as she furrowed her brow, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, and she was surprised by the concern in his voice. She glanced up at him.

Here comes the lie. "I just left my daughter's birthday card on my desk is all, but I'm sure I can buy another one before her party tomorrow-" At the mention of a daughter, he seemed to tense, his shoulders stiffening, She felt his fingers tighten on the shoulder of her blazer, gently letting go once he realized it.

"You have a daughter?" he asked, "What's her name?" Mirage smiled sweetly.

"Abigail," she said, "she's turning seventeen tomorrow. Do you have any children, Professor Callaghan?" At the mere mention of the name, Mirage noticed his jaw lock, his teeth grind.

Now for the fun part.

"You know what? I'll just buy another one tomorrow," Mirage sighed, tucking her clipboard under her arm.

"Are you sure?" Robert said. Mirage nodded. A vein in Robert's neck looked like it was about to burst, his face tinged red.

"Yes," she said, "….. will you walk me to my car?" Tilted her head at his hesitation, she added, "It's dark, and well, you never know what's gonna happen to a woman all alone."

That sold it. Holding the door open for her, he hovered by her side as they searched for her car- her boss's really, but she couldn't make out where it was. He said he'd be out back… Mirage thought, squinting into the darkness. Dull lampposts crated small pools of light in rank corners, flies buzzing around the bulbs. And then she spotted the gleam of the black hood a few feet away. Mirage tapped Robert's arm, pointing to it.

"There's my car," she said, leading him to it. He followed obediently, pausing before grabbing the handle, his knuckles turning white as he pulled open the door. Mirage smiled.

Chivalry wasn't dead, apparently.

"Thank you, Professor," she said climbing in, reaching out to brush his fingers-

-And grabbing his blazer, dragging him i the car with her. She was fully aware of how heavy he was, but that didn't matter. She needed to get hose microbots.

"Augh!" Robert shouted, banging his head n the ri of the car door as he nearly collapsed against the vehicle. Grunting, he placed his free hand against the frame, resting Mirage's tugging.

But the woman was persistent; she was stronger than she looked. Gritting her teeth she gave one final pull, and managed to shut the door behind the man, locking them inside.

"Wha-what the hell, Miss Stanley!" Robert exclaimed, brow creased with worry. Mirage chuckle, inspecting her nails as if they were the most interesting things in the world. As she poked at them, she noticed some of the paint chipping- she made a mental note to go to the salon when this was over.

"Professor Callaghan, I assure you," Mirage grinned, "My name isn't Miriam Stanley. According to the government, Miriam Stanley doesn't exist."

She enjoyed the look of confusion that flooded his face as she went on, "In fact, you can call me Mirage. Of course, 'Mirage' doesn't exist to the government either, so let's just assume I'm a figment of your imagination, hmm?"

"I-I don't understand…" Robert began to protest, "You said you had a daughter… Abigail….!"

"Wow," Mirage deadpanned, "men really do believe everything they hear, huh?" She smiled as he then tried to unlock the door, his grubby nails unable to get a firm grip on the sleek silver mechanism.

"There's no use, Robert," she said, "Only my boss has access to the locks. You're stuck here. Unless…"

Mirage jumped as Robert turned on her, anger welling up in his eyes.

"Your boss?" he muttered, "Is that how you knew about Abigail?" Mirage pursed her lips.

This guy was a fast learner.

"So you want to avenge her?" Mirage said, "Make her death more meaningful?" His face was turning purple by now, no doubt from the emotions he and been keeping in. All those memories, lost under lock and key. According to her statistics, since Abigail Callaghan had died a young woman, Robert was never able to walk her down the aisle. He was never able to see grandchildren of his own, to have pictures of in his office at work. There would e no more family vacations, there were no more birthday parties. Just a grave and an unrequited need to get back at whomever she knew Robert thought murdered his daughter.

"You know, Robert, you're a smart man," Mirage said cooly, "probably too smart for you town good."

"What are you getting at-"

"But that's where we- my boss and I- that's where we can help you," she teased, clasping her hands in her lap. The leather of the seat was uncomfortable, her skin sticking to the material with perspiration. Robert looked at her, unsure of what to do. Mirage leaned back in her seat.

She loved seeing that look. Seeing how people would respond in this situation.

Always, it went in her favor.

"How?" Robert asked, his voice cracking, wrinkles forming in his forehead as he eyes her suspiciously. She returned the look, raising an eyebrow in disdain.

"That boy, what was his name?" Mirage asked. She watched as Robert racked his brain before answering: "Hiro. Hiro Hamada- but what do you want with him?"

"Not him," Mirage scowled, "his invention."

It took Robert a minute to process what she was saying.

"The microbots….?" he breathed. Mirage nodded. "But hat would you want with tho-"

"The details can be worked out at a later date," Mirage said, thankful she still had the clipboard on her. Carefully, she undid it from the rest of the papers, pulling out the hidden envelope underneath. She held it out to him, her nails digging into the package, "This had all the instructs you need."

Hands shaking, Robert took it.

"What am I supposed to do?" Robert asked, his voice hardened, cold.

"Get the microbots," Mirage said, "once you do that, open that envelope and there's a device that will detonate-"

"You planted a bomb inside the building?!" Robert cried shrilly.

"-and once that goes off, get the headband that controls the microbots. Protect yourself, and then get out while everyone is distracted," Mirage ignored his pleas of discontent, "A car will be waiting for you to take you to headquarters."

"Headquarters?" Robert asked, holding the package gingerly between his fingers. "But how will I know it's you?" Mirage glared up at him as she lowered her head, sorting through blank pages. Robert jumped as there was a sharp noise, and the locks on the doors sprung up like flowers in spring.

"Trust me, Robert Callaghan," Mirage said with silk in her voice, "you'll know."

A cry of alarm escaped Robert's throat as the door suddenly swung open, and he was ejected from the car, left to ponder this plan as the car sped away, coughing black exhaust into the streets as it went.

Mirage could only hope Robert went with his part of the deal, or else there was going to be a whole lot of trouble for her boss to deal with on the other end.