After what seemed like well over an hour, Mason was starting to get impatient. Though he really couldn't be sure of the time, having given up wearing a watch many years ago.

He found that he had begun to lean on the shop window. He quickly stood up. This was an upmarket shop, but it didn't change the fact that it would be innately filthy.

Picking up the shopping bags, he shifted uncomfortably. He felt even more awkward standing still and on his own. Hoards of shoppers walked by, some hurriedly, some dithering. He took to watching people in his boredom. A single mother struggled to push a double pram, carry half a dozen bags and keep an eye on her older child. A young couple holding hands pointed at things in shop windows as they casually strolled by. A businessman carrying a bulging suitcase hurried past. A group of young girls dressed in the latest fashions talked animatedly as they walked. A teenage girl yelled at her mother, probably for not buying her the latest CD by her favourite pop band.

In the distance, he could see a group of people of indeterminate gender dressed in black approaching. He remembered that fad from his high school years. Some things never change, he found himself thinking. As they passed, one of them stared at him the whole time. He adjusted his glasses and stared back, but found it impossible to look intimidating while holding shopping bags.

***

About ten minutes later, the girls came out of the shop, carrying a single bag each and chatting about their purchases. Mason gave them an annoyed look, but said nothing.

"'kay, do you need to go anywhere else?" Shalimar asked him.

"Yes." He said. "I will need to purchase a new wig."

"Err...any idea where?"

"As I said before, Miss Fox, I have not been to a shopping centre in years."

"Emma?"

She shrugged, then looked around. A little shop caught her eye, and the sign declared 'Michael's Wig Emporium " in loopy, almost unreadable writing. "How about that place?" She offered.

"It looks to be acceptable." He said, setting off towards the shop. There was only one way to find out.

He pushed open the door and a bell chimed. Instantly, he noticed that the place was rather dusty and smelt of mothballs. Disregarding his first impressions, he made his way slowly to the counter.

The shopkeeper was standing behind it, brushing a long black wig.

"Good afternoon sir, ladies." He said in a posh British accent. "Welcome to Michael's Wig Emporium. I am Michael. Now, what can I do for you?"

"I require a wig, much like the one I am currently wearing. Would you be able to provide me with such a thing?"

"Of course, sir. Now would you mind if I took a quick look?"

"I would much prefer it if you did not." He said as he looked at the shopkeeper harshly.

"Okay." He said quickly, and took out a notebook. "Now, what length do you require?"

"Fourteen inches at the back, stepped to seven in the front. I want the bangs long and fairly thick, and I wish it to be slightly feathered at the ends." He said, as the shopkeeper scribbled hurried notes. "I want it to be pure white. Not platinum blond, not silver, not ninety percent grey. I would prefer it to be made from kanekalon fibre if possible."

A great deal of online shopping had taught him that it was best to be absolutely specific in what he wanted. He would receive a whole manner of strange deviations on what he ordered. What confused him the most was how some people must have rather funny ideas about what colour white is.

"Certainly. Now I don't think we have just what you want in stock, but if you leave your details, I shall have it delivered to you by next week." He tore a page out of his notebook and handed it to him along with a pen. He picked the black wig up again and continued to brush it.

Mason picked up the pen and wrote his name. Then he stopped, realising he had no address to write. He couldn't very well write Genomex's address down, and he was pretty sure that Sanctuary would not have a mailbox.

Emma passed him a piece of paper. "Here," She said, "this is the address of the safe house in town. We have all our parcels delivered there." He copied the address, and slid the piece of notebook paper back towards the shopkeeper.

"Thank you. Now, that will be seventy five dollars please."

His mind went again to money, namely the lack of it. But he didn't have much time to worry, as Shalimar had already put Adam's credit card on the counter.

"It's my father's." She said, smiling sweetly. She had told the same lie in the clothes shop. The shopkeeper nodded and smiled back. They always believed her, and if they didn't, Emma would be able to convince them to reconsider.

"Thank you, and please come again." The shopkeeper said, going back to his former duty of brushing the wig. It seemed that business was not doing very well for him.

"I don't know about you guys, but I sure am hungry." Shalimar said as they left the shop.

"Yeah, I'm getting hungry too." Emma said. "We can stop by at the food court, but then I think we'd better get back to Sanctuary. It's getting a bit late and Adam will be wondering where we are."

At the food court, Shalimar grabbed a bacon roll, and Emma finally decided to have a salad. Mason looked longingly at the food, wondering if he should risk it. Adam had not expressly told him not to eat, but he hadn't exactly been offering him meals. In the end he decided against it. After all, he didn't even know if he could eat. He hadn't been able to for many years.

"So, have you enjoyed your shopping trip?" Shalimar asked as they walked back to the car.

"It was simply divine." Was his answer, and he was being more than a bit sarcastic. Though he had to admit to himself that he had had far worse days.

***

On the journey back, Mason began to feel uncomfortable. It felt so hot in the car.

"Will you turn the heater down please." He said eventually.

"It's not on." Emma told him.

He shifted uneasily, and told himself that he would have to get used to normal temperatures again.

***

When they got back to Sanctuary, he went straight to what had apparently become his room. He dropped the bags on the floor and lay down on the bed. The shopping trip had really sapped the energy out of him.

***

"Have fun on your shopping trip?" Jesse asked as he spotted the girls.

But before either of them could answer, Brennan remarked. "I still can't believe Adam made you take Eckhart shopping. I thought he was having us on when I asked him where you guys where."

"Well, he was strangely polite and not at all unpleasant. I don't know, maybe he's changed." Emma said.

"I wouldn't bet on it." Said Shalimar. "I'm still keeping an eye on him."