Dr. Director only agreed to do the bionic eye shtick on the first night. For the next, she had successfully secured it to one of the lighting rigs, facing the doorway, without anyone noticing. But after two days and nights of scanning, nothing resembling Camille Leon's brainwaves had come up.

Ann relieved Betty's stress as best she could. Still, they were running out of time. "Perhaps she is impersonating one of the crew," the brunette muttered as she lay in the neurosurgeon's post-coital embrace.

"The dossier said that was the least likely probability."

"It is. She's used to being waited on, and she's certainly never had any experience waiting on others. She doesn't have the skillset to perform any of the duties required by the crew, either."

"But she grew up a wealthy socialite. Are there any... oh, I don't know, social officers on the crew? Public relations, customer service..."

"Hm. Perhaps. Assuming the identity of a crew member would also allow her to board ship alone. If she was impersonating someone's... partner, I doubt she'd be able to continue the subterfuge for a whole week."

"No red flags on your database so far?"

"None. Nor any updates on what may be aboard that Camille would be interested in stealing. But if that is her purpose, she'd probably wait until we're returning to port, to minimize the chance of discovery before she can escape. We have a Plan B ready if it comes to that, but I'd rather apprehend her first. I'll double-check the crew roster in the morning."

"And if she's not here to steal, she's probably just hiding."

"Probably."

Ann sighed, cuddling into Betty a little tighter. "If she's posing as a guest, she won't want to draw much attention to herself. If she's not simply hiding in her room the whole time, she's probably occupying herself with the less popular or more exclusive pastimes the ship has to offer. Exploring those might be a good way to spend our third day."

"I was leaning in that direction myself," the cyclopean spy said. "Whatever her disguise, it's hard to imagine her keeping a low profile."

"Villains can change, you know."

"For better or worse," Betty replied, refusing to name Shego. The brunette had no desire to speak on that topic for now, opting instead to roll into the redhead's embrace and wait for her to fall asleep, so that she could do the same.

The next day was a bust, save for the discovery of a salsa dancing class that Ann was enthusiastic to attend; her husband's hobby choices tended to vary, but Latin American dance styles were not among them. Betty put up surprisingly little resistance to the idea, so Ann assumed she would appreciate the distraction. It became evident during the class that the spy was an experienced salsa dancer, even though she had never led before. "Six regional styles," she admitted when questioned. "I can tango, too."

Betty was a popular choice among the other dancers in the hours following the class, allowing for some surreptitious scanning. Ann noticed how a particular couple in their twenties kept taking turns inviting the brunette onto the dancefloor, and made sure that the four of them got together at the bar as the night was winding down, talking about their respective relationships among other things.

"So Zoe," Gogo asked as Gigi dragged Betty off for one last dance, "Is Liz as much fun in the bedroom as she is on the dancefloor?"

Ann laughed at the straightforward question. "I can't say for sure. Like I said, she's new to all this, and... well, I can say she's fun to do things to." Gogo, the Italian half of the European couple, giggled at the inference. The redhead continued, "In contrast, she's so much better than me at salsa, I've mostly watched her dancing with others."

Gogo nodded at her French wife. "I am sure Gigi could help you expand her horizons, if you'd like to watch that too." The raven-haired girl was completely serious, and apparently got a kick out of voicing such suggestions.

"And what would you be doing while your wife was having her way with my girlfriend?"

Gogo's grin widened. "Fucking you. In a way that doesn't obstruct your view of those two, of course."

"A foursome with every natural hair colour represented, hm?" Another shared giggle. "I've only been with two women once before, myself. To be honest, you two would probably be focusing on me while Liz watched. But if we're lucky, things could evolve from there..."

"Then ask her. And I'll hope we see you both again tomorrow night. I think, between the three of us, we can convince Liz to try anything she has not done yet."

"Your mind's every bit as filthy as mine, isn't it?"

"Blame the wife."

The last dance finished, and the quartet headed off together in the direction of the guest rooms, chatting along the way... at which point, Betty and Ann got an unexpected break.

"Oh, have you heard the rumour?" Gigi asked the older couple. "They say the American singer Britina is on the ship."

"Britina?" Betty echoed. Ann was unsure what the connection was, but knew that her daughter had helped the celebrity several times in the past.

Gogo rolled her eyes at the change in topic. "They say she is whoring, too."

This time the surprised echo came from both of them. "Whoring?"

"Gogo thinks it is un impressionniste," Gigi said, "But I bet she is the real thing. Only someone rich and famous could get on a cruise for couples alone. I wonder if they know what she is doing, though..."

"How did you hear this?" Betty asked as skeptically as she thought appropriate.

Gogo answered. "From a pair of English rich bitches with bad bleached hair and terrible fashion sense. They said they spent the night with the Britina, then complained about the cost."

"A shame, if it's true," Ann ventured.

"Better than drugs or alcohol, no?" Gigi said. "But her music is not as popular since her arrest, so..."

"You just want to try her yourself," Gogo teased. "Whatever she asks for, I think it is not worth it." Her wife only shrugged in response.

"How do you even hire her if she's keeping such a low profile?" Ann wondered aloud.

"That, they did not say," Gigi sighed, before stopping at the next door along their side of the corridor. "This is us. Will you be coming in?"

The question caught Betty by surprise, but Ann couldn't help but smile at the hope in the young blonde's voice. "Next time, perhaps."

Gogo stepped toward Ann. "I hope so," she said huskily before giving the redhead a kiss that verged on passionate. Betty gaped at the sight before Gigi grabbed her and crossed the passion line entirely.

Some whispered good nights, and the European couple retired to their room. The cyclopean spy remained stunned even as Ann led her away from the door. "She... they..."

"After all the things you've seen, it's quite a different story when it's actually happening to you, isn't it?"

"...Gigi is a very enthusiastic kisser."

"Her wife is a lucky girl."

"They are girls. They must be at least ten, fifteen years younger than us. And they really want the four of us... together?"

"Gogo wants you to watch her do me while I watch Gigi do you."

"Oh. Well, um... something to think about later."

It sounded like Betty's mind was getting back on track with the mission, so Ann asked, "Britina. You think it's her?"

The brunette nodded. "Her first thefts after the experimental surgery involved impersonating various celebrities she has interacted with in the past. Your sons figured out how, actually, before Kimberly apprehended her."

"I suppose you'll be adding solicitation to her list of charges."

"Among other things."

"So, how does one hire a low profile celebrity whore?"

"That, I think you can leave to me."

Ann slipped her hand from Betty's to put her arm around her waist. "Does that give us tonight?"

"This morning, technically."

"If we're going to visit Mrs. and Mrs. Lala tomorrow night, I think we should get some practice in before dawn."

"If we apprehend Camille tomorrow, that won't be necessary."

"But it would be fun. You know Gigi would be crushed if you don't come with me. You're just her type."

"Which is?"

"Inexperienced when it comes to women."

"That doesn't explain their marriage," Betty said as the pair entered their own room. "Besides, she isn't you. But it wouldn't bother you at all, would it. Seeing me with her."

"I think it would be liberating for you. Would you be jealous of Gogo?"

"Yes," Betty admitted.

The redhead kissed her softly after the immediate response. "So if I suggested a threesome with Kim instead..."

"Shego would probably kill us," Betty finished in a flat tone.

"Actually, I think she'd film the whole thing and then blackmail you with it," Ann laughed.

Betty silently conceded the point, choosing not to voice her preference for Shego to tend to her while she watched the mother and daughter together. It would have been more interesting if Shego was still a bona fide villainess, but not by much... the things this woman makes me imagine, she thought as the redhead in question kissed her some more. Is this what Shego did to them?

Ann woke the next morning to fing the cyclopean sky already gone. Betty usually woke first, but remained in bed until the redhead followed suit. Ann supposed she was already off looking for a way to employ the services of the suspected shape-shifting whore.

When the brunette did not return after the morning's ablutions, Ann went to breakfast alone, then wandered the busier decks to practice the observation skills she had picked up from Betty in the last few days. She caught no sign of her partner, but guessed an English couple by the pool wearing tasteless yet expensive jewellery were the the pair Gogo had described. Had Betty spoken to them? The neurosurgeon suspected not, and chose not to approach them herself. However Britina or Camille arranged to meet potential clients, Betty would probably find it. Instead, Ann spent the rest of the morning by or in the pool herself.

Betty rejoined her for lunch. "Well?" Ann asked without preamble.

"I acquired a mobile telephone number from a crew member who gave me a time window far removed from our meeting, and someone sounding like Britina at the other end of the line when I made the call. She's coming to our room for dinner."

"Dinner?"

"That's what she called it. I suspect she actually intends to be fed; it's easier to eat while laying low when someone else is footing the bill."

Ann chuckled. "So, three days of scanning with the fanciest technology for nothing, hm?"

"Now we have a prime suspect, one more scan should be all we need."

A woman in smart casual clothes approached their door. She looked both ways down the corridor, her ponytail swinging back and forth from its purple scrunchie, before knocking.

The door opened to pop star Britina. "Hiya!" she greeted with cheerful enthusiasm. "You must be Liz."

"That's right," Betty answered, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter.

"Cool eyepatch. Do you actually need it, or did it become a fashion trend and I missed it?"

"Necessary. But it does make costume parties easier. Pirates... supervillains..."

"Cool." Britina's eyes had just come to rest upon Ann, who was lying on the bed, laptop sitting on its namesake. "Eyepatch and Ginger. There's a TV show in the making."

"I think we're more 'behind the scenes' people," Ann said to keep the girl's attention on her, as well as to disguise the sound of the scanner as Betty used it from behind the blonde. "So, are you just here for dinner, or can you stay longer?"

"Depends on how much cash you have," Britina sighed. "After that whole thing with Nicky Nick, I'd never do this sorta thing with boys. Girls, though... well, they can be bitches, but better that than total creeps, right? It's hard for someone of my fame to explore their sexuality, but with the whole celebrity thing, I figure... I hope you don't think less of me, asking money for this. I need to make up for my recent monetary shortfalls, y'know?"

The laptop bleeped near the end of Britina's monologue, diverting Ann's attention. "Oops, here's the email I was waiting for..."

Britina glanced back to Betty. "Actually, I'm surprised girls your age are interested in me," she said, casually flicking her bangs. "usually it's, like, fans wanting to get into my pants. You're older than my usual demographic... no offense."

"None taken," Betty told her.

"I think my daughter likes your music," Ann added.

"You have a kid? It sure doesn't show."

"It's genetic."

Now observing Ann more closely, Britina frowned. "You seem kinda familiar. Have I met your daughter before?"

"Several times, yes," Ann answered, the 'yes' directed at Betty.

Whatever Britina was going to say next was interrupted by the powerful jolt of electricity she was hit with from behind. Her face spasmed into the likenesses of several different women before Camille Leon dropped to the floor, paralyzed.

"Good work, doctor," Betty told Ann.

"Thank you, doctor," Ann told Betty.

By the time Camille regained muscle control, she was securely tied to a chair. If she could morph into a child half her age, she might have been able to slip out of her bindings. She'd tried it in the past, but there were limitations to what she could do with her body. Stupid skeleton. Stupid internal organs, she thought as she started squirming. "Ugh... what... this isn't my kind of kink. What's going on?"

"You're under arrest, Miss Leon," Dr. Director answered.

Realising she was in her original form, the disowned heiress tried another tack. "I can't be! We're in international waters!"

"The oceans are international waters. The Caribbean Sea is not."

"Ugh." Camille silently cursed herself for making such a mistake. "I thought I'd be safe here."

"You're not safe anywhere, anymore, Miss Leon. You gave up that right when you became a villain."

"Huh? I'm just a thief!"

"And a whore," Ann interjected.

"Technically, that's legal," Camille huffed. She'd at least done her research on that.

Betty redirected the blonde's attention back to her. "Solicitation is not. Neither is impersonating others in the course of your wrongdoings, legal or otherwise. But we were willing to let the usual authorities handle you, once we took precautions should your criminal behaviour escalate."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember one of your first days in prison, being hooked up up to a machine and shown picture after picture after picture? You asked who was behind the mirror. I was."

Camille paled. "Global Justice."

"Dr. Director, head of Global Justice. And when someone with your abilities adds kidnapping to their résumé, they become villains." Betty leaned down until she was nose to nose with the disowned heiress, before growling, "Where is Bonnie Rockwaller?"