"Where are you going?" My mother's voice followed me from the kitchen.
"Holmes" I said simply, shutting the door behind me. I pulled my Hopkin's jacket tighter around me and jogged a bit to keep warm - the foggy night was chilly.
When I knocked on Holmes' door I heard the scurrying of little puppy feet and then a frantic scratching. The door was opened and Rascal, now twice the size we found him, greeted me with a big slobbery kiss and several happy barks.
Holmes and Marianne stood in the doorway, bundled up like I was.
"Let's go," Holmes said, shoving Rascal back in the house.
"Where are we going?" I asked, wiping puppy spit off the back of my hand.
"To meet Raffi."
"Raffi? Not like, baby beluga Raffi?" I asked.
Marianne gave me a strange look.
"You know! Baaaaby beluuuuga... swimming in the deep blue sea...?" I started to sing, slightly off key.
Now both of them were staring. I sighed, exasperated.
"No, I believe you are mistaken, Watson." Holmes drawled and Marianne snickered. I beat down the urge to hit one of them.
After about half an hour of brisk walking (I *gasp* want *gasp* a car!) Holmes knocked on the door of a basement flat.
It was opened by - dear god.
He was wearing bell-bottoms with bright blue sequins and a white shirt that was slit almost to his belly button, showing off an enormous gold goat-fish-thing on a chain. His mousy brown hair was in short spikes, and several dangling earrings flashed in the lamplight.
"Holmes, baby!" The man whipped off his pink sunglasses. "Let me be the first to say how simply delicious it is to see you! And with such babalicious ladies as yourselves!" He pointed at Marianne and I and stuck his tongue out in a wild grin.
Marianne and I began backing away, but Holmes caught our wrists. "Watson, Marianne," he said, laughing. "Allow me to introduce Raffi."
With an obnoxious grin Raffi winked at me. I felt my stomach turn over.
"But Holmes, baby, come on in! Bring the laaaa-daaayss..." Raffi turned and we followed him, rather reluctantly, into the apartment.
It was like one of those pictures where you have to find the 1000 things wrong with it - like the rubber duck taped to the disco ball and the toilet paper around the sofa and the tiki mask on the table.
Only here it was all real.
The walls were alternately tangerine and turquoise, with purple stars that flashed randomly. There was a bunk with the covers undone and a small kitchenette that was painted neon green. One whole wall was a mirror and a makeup table that was covered in every kind of wig, paint, rubber, and tubes of stuff I didn't even recognize. To top it all, weird hippie music without any lyrics was blaring from a speaker next to the bed.
Raffi swaggered over to a chair and jumped into it, making it spin around slowly.
"So, babes, what can I do for you?" he asked, putting his pink sunglasses back on.
Holmes put his hands in his pocket. "I need your help for an investigation."
"Any thing for you, Holmmy-olmmy." Raffi spun around to face Marianne and I. "He did a good thing for me, your friend. Cleared me of murder, no less."
Holmes laughed. "Yes, I, um, helped the police prove that Raffi was busy robbing a music store at the time."
Raffi grinned. "I got to keep the cd's, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did. But I need you to do a number on Watson."
I stared at Holmes. "WHAT?"
Waving an exasperated hand in my face, Holmes sighed. "I need you to make her look like Marianne."
Raffi frowned and pushed his glasses to the top of his head. He put his feet on the floor and rested his arms on his knees as he studied us.
After a minute he spoke. "Do-able. Definitely do-able." He got up from his chair. "Watson, is it? Put your cute little batootie right here."
"Holmes!" I yelped, edging for the door. He frowned and turned to me.
"Don't worry, Raffi is harmless." Holmes said, then looked back. Raffi was singing and swinging his hips as he picked up tubes of makeup. "Well, sort of."
"Why do you need me to look like Marianne?" I hissed.
"Bait."
"Bai...? Oh, no way! NO WAY! Make her do it!" I pointed at Marianne, who looked uncomfortable.
Holmes grabbed my upper arm and steered me a few feet away. "Marianne is helpless. I know she's the captain of the fencing team, but take away her foil and she's useless. I need someone who can really protect themselves if things get ugly. I have reason to believe that someone is trying to kidnap Marianne. They'll come after you, and once they realize you're not Marianne, they'll dump you. Then we know who were up against."
"Holmes," I said. "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard of! Do you realize how risky that is?"
Our eyes met, and he was quiet. "It could mean her life," he whispered.
I groaned. "Fine, fine, fine, fine, FINE!" I stormed over to Raffi's chair and sat. "Now what?"
Raffi pointed at Marianne. "Come over here, you sit in this other chair where I can see you." He looked between Marianne and I and put a finger on his chin. "But what are we going to do about this hair?"
"Watson highlights hers." Holmes said simply, sitting on the edge of the unmade bed.
"So the underside is darker!" Raffi stood behind me and pulled my hair back into a neat ponytail. "It's still a little light, do we want to dye it?"
"NO!" I said, very forcibly.
"No," Holmes said. "She doesn't have to be identical. It's close enough."
"Aw, okay," Raffi said, sounding disappointed. He came back to stand in front of me. "Let the magic begin," he said, whipping two tubes from behind his back.
I whimpered.
Raffi sang as he worked, smearing tan cream on my face and adding blush. "And if she leaves me, oo, handle her with care..." he was singing. He had a rather good voice, actually. "Don't hurt a-little Crystal..."
Half and hour later Raffi stood back and laughed. "Well-ell-ell. Allow me to present Miss Marianne the second!"
He stepped aside so I could see my reflection.
I gasped.
It wasn't as if I really was Marianne, but as close as you could get! My nose looked smaller, my eyelashes thicker and longer, and my lips had Marianne's smaller, pinched look. My cheekbones were higher and even my chin looked less round. It was amazing.
Underneath it all I could tell I was me, but it was as if he had lifted Marianne's face and put it on mine.
I caught Marianne's eye and we gaped, open mouthed at each other.
CKC-WHIIIIIIZ... Raffi smiled and took the photograph out of the front of his Polaroid. He waved it in the air and chuckled.
"You didn't." I said, cold. It was annoyingly hard to talk under all the makeup.
"Oh yes I did." Raffi looked pleased with himself. "You two are picture perfect."
Holmes stood. "Thank you, Raffi, you are amazing."
"Anytime, baby, anytime." Raffi stuck the developing polaroid in the mirror frame. "Hm... I did do a good job, didn't I?" He started to sing again. "And if she calls you long distance, just be there, oooh, Crystal..."
As we walked out of the flat I turned to Holmes. "Why does that song sound so familiar?"
Holmes shrugged, but smiled deviously. I got the idea he wasn't telling me something...
It was now about nine o'clock, and the streets were dark and cold. I shivered as we set out towards Holmes' house.
When we got there he set Marianne up in the living room with a soda. "Make yourself at home - you're staying here for a while. You can read, if you want," Holmes waved a hand at the bookshelf.
"Where are your parents?" I asked.
Holmes rolled his eyes. "Myron is being promoted to inspector, or some such nonsense. There's a big banquet tonight. They even took Colleen."
"That's lucky." I said. "But how'd you get out of it?"
"I faked illness." Holmes said, with a hint of a smirk.
"Oh, you sly dog!" I teased. Marianne giggled.
Holmes grinned and looked at his watch. "We'd better be going."
"Can we take Rascal?" I asked, nervous.
"Good idea." Holmes said, and I whistled. Rascal came gallumphing down the stairs, slid on the rug, and crashed into the wall. He stood, shook his head and then jumped up to give Holmes a kiss.
"Down! Down, Rascal!" Holmes said, pushing the over enthusiastic puppy away. I got the leash and snapped it on Rascal.
Taking the lead from my hands, Holmes opened the door.
"Here goes nothing," I said.
"Here goes everything," Holmes whispered.
"Holmes" I said simply, shutting the door behind me. I pulled my Hopkin's jacket tighter around me and jogged a bit to keep warm - the foggy night was chilly.
When I knocked on Holmes' door I heard the scurrying of little puppy feet and then a frantic scratching. The door was opened and Rascal, now twice the size we found him, greeted me with a big slobbery kiss and several happy barks.
Holmes and Marianne stood in the doorway, bundled up like I was.
"Let's go," Holmes said, shoving Rascal back in the house.
"Where are we going?" I asked, wiping puppy spit off the back of my hand.
"To meet Raffi."
"Raffi? Not like, baby beluga Raffi?" I asked.
Marianne gave me a strange look.
"You know! Baaaaby beluuuuga... swimming in the deep blue sea...?" I started to sing, slightly off key.
Now both of them were staring. I sighed, exasperated.
"No, I believe you are mistaken, Watson." Holmes drawled and Marianne snickered. I beat down the urge to hit one of them.
After about half an hour of brisk walking (I *gasp* want *gasp* a car!) Holmes knocked on the door of a basement flat.
It was opened by - dear god.
He was wearing bell-bottoms with bright blue sequins and a white shirt that was slit almost to his belly button, showing off an enormous gold goat-fish-thing on a chain. His mousy brown hair was in short spikes, and several dangling earrings flashed in the lamplight.
"Holmes, baby!" The man whipped off his pink sunglasses. "Let me be the first to say how simply delicious it is to see you! And with such babalicious ladies as yourselves!" He pointed at Marianne and I and stuck his tongue out in a wild grin.
Marianne and I began backing away, but Holmes caught our wrists. "Watson, Marianne," he said, laughing. "Allow me to introduce Raffi."
With an obnoxious grin Raffi winked at me. I felt my stomach turn over.
"But Holmes, baby, come on in! Bring the laaaa-daaayss..." Raffi turned and we followed him, rather reluctantly, into the apartment.
It was like one of those pictures where you have to find the 1000 things wrong with it - like the rubber duck taped to the disco ball and the toilet paper around the sofa and the tiki mask on the table.
Only here it was all real.
The walls were alternately tangerine and turquoise, with purple stars that flashed randomly. There was a bunk with the covers undone and a small kitchenette that was painted neon green. One whole wall was a mirror and a makeup table that was covered in every kind of wig, paint, rubber, and tubes of stuff I didn't even recognize. To top it all, weird hippie music without any lyrics was blaring from a speaker next to the bed.
Raffi swaggered over to a chair and jumped into it, making it spin around slowly.
"So, babes, what can I do for you?" he asked, putting his pink sunglasses back on.
Holmes put his hands in his pocket. "I need your help for an investigation."
"Any thing for you, Holmmy-olmmy." Raffi spun around to face Marianne and I. "He did a good thing for me, your friend. Cleared me of murder, no less."
Holmes laughed. "Yes, I, um, helped the police prove that Raffi was busy robbing a music store at the time."
Raffi grinned. "I got to keep the cd's, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did. But I need you to do a number on Watson."
I stared at Holmes. "WHAT?"
Waving an exasperated hand in my face, Holmes sighed. "I need you to make her look like Marianne."
Raffi frowned and pushed his glasses to the top of his head. He put his feet on the floor and rested his arms on his knees as he studied us.
After a minute he spoke. "Do-able. Definitely do-able." He got up from his chair. "Watson, is it? Put your cute little batootie right here."
"Holmes!" I yelped, edging for the door. He frowned and turned to me.
"Don't worry, Raffi is harmless." Holmes said, then looked back. Raffi was singing and swinging his hips as he picked up tubes of makeup. "Well, sort of."
"Why do you need me to look like Marianne?" I hissed.
"Bait."
"Bai...? Oh, no way! NO WAY! Make her do it!" I pointed at Marianne, who looked uncomfortable.
Holmes grabbed my upper arm and steered me a few feet away. "Marianne is helpless. I know she's the captain of the fencing team, but take away her foil and she's useless. I need someone who can really protect themselves if things get ugly. I have reason to believe that someone is trying to kidnap Marianne. They'll come after you, and once they realize you're not Marianne, they'll dump you. Then we know who were up against."
"Holmes," I said. "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard of! Do you realize how risky that is?"
Our eyes met, and he was quiet. "It could mean her life," he whispered.
I groaned. "Fine, fine, fine, fine, FINE!" I stormed over to Raffi's chair and sat. "Now what?"
Raffi pointed at Marianne. "Come over here, you sit in this other chair where I can see you." He looked between Marianne and I and put a finger on his chin. "But what are we going to do about this hair?"
"Watson highlights hers." Holmes said simply, sitting on the edge of the unmade bed.
"So the underside is darker!" Raffi stood behind me and pulled my hair back into a neat ponytail. "It's still a little light, do we want to dye it?"
"NO!" I said, very forcibly.
"No," Holmes said. "She doesn't have to be identical. It's close enough."
"Aw, okay," Raffi said, sounding disappointed. He came back to stand in front of me. "Let the magic begin," he said, whipping two tubes from behind his back.
I whimpered.
Raffi sang as he worked, smearing tan cream on my face and adding blush. "And if she leaves me, oo, handle her with care..." he was singing. He had a rather good voice, actually. "Don't hurt a-little Crystal..."
Half and hour later Raffi stood back and laughed. "Well-ell-ell. Allow me to present Miss Marianne the second!"
He stepped aside so I could see my reflection.
I gasped.
It wasn't as if I really was Marianne, but as close as you could get! My nose looked smaller, my eyelashes thicker and longer, and my lips had Marianne's smaller, pinched look. My cheekbones were higher and even my chin looked less round. It was amazing.
Underneath it all I could tell I was me, but it was as if he had lifted Marianne's face and put it on mine.
I caught Marianne's eye and we gaped, open mouthed at each other.
CKC-WHIIIIIIZ... Raffi smiled and took the photograph out of the front of his Polaroid. He waved it in the air and chuckled.
"You didn't." I said, cold. It was annoyingly hard to talk under all the makeup.
"Oh yes I did." Raffi looked pleased with himself. "You two are picture perfect."
Holmes stood. "Thank you, Raffi, you are amazing."
"Anytime, baby, anytime." Raffi stuck the developing polaroid in the mirror frame. "Hm... I did do a good job, didn't I?" He started to sing again. "And if she calls you long distance, just be there, oooh, Crystal..."
As we walked out of the flat I turned to Holmes. "Why does that song sound so familiar?"
Holmes shrugged, but smiled deviously. I got the idea he wasn't telling me something...
It was now about nine o'clock, and the streets were dark and cold. I shivered as we set out towards Holmes' house.
When we got there he set Marianne up in the living room with a soda. "Make yourself at home - you're staying here for a while. You can read, if you want," Holmes waved a hand at the bookshelf.
"Where are your parents?" I asked.
Holmes rolled his eyes. "Myron is being promoted to inspector, or some such nonsense. There's a big banquet tonight. They even took Colleen."
"That's lucky." I said. "But how'd you get out of it?"
"I faked illness." Holmes said, with a hint of a smirk.
"Oh, you sly dog!" I teased. Marianne giggled.
Holmes grinned and looked at his watch. "We'd better be going."
"Can we take Rascal?" I asked, nervous.
"Good idea." Holmes said, and I whistled. Rascal came gallumphing down the stairs, slid on the rug, and crashed into the wall. He stood, shook his head and then jumped up to give Holmes a kiss.
"Down! Down, Rascal!" Holmes said, pushing the over enthusiastic puppy away. I got the leash and snapped it on Rascal.
Taking the lead from my hands, Holmes opened the door.
"Here goes nothing," I said.
"Here goes everything," Holmes whispered.