Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes: Turn and Face the Strange - Eleanor/Chase
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes: Turn and Face the Strange
Sigh.
It was late. Even for a world traveling detective, with constant jet lag and with a day off waiting for her in the morning, to be wide awake at 3 in the morning was not exactly normal nor was it favorable. But there she was, looking at the uniform dorm ceiling of apartment 424, no lights to be had except for the pale glow of city lights out her window and the digital readout of her bedside alarm clock.
Taking a deep breath she turned onto her side, cuddling up to her pillow as her eyes looked to the night table beside her which held her communicator, a glass of water, the alarm clock and a picture of 4 people. The pale blue lcd glow of the clock lit up the aged image of a small family sitting together in formalwear; a mother, a father, a teenaged boy and a slightly younger and chunkier girl with dark red hair and plastic rimmed glasses a bit too large for her face. It was the girl who her eyes were drawn to. It had been the focus of a number of sleepless nights, not that she had ever consciously intended it to be.
Melissa Wayward, the blond agent which now lay in bed, heavy eyes still staring blankly, knew this girl all too well. The girl's name was Eleanor Catherine Mayhem.
Eleanor had been born and raised in Gary, IN, the daughter of a school secretary and a research scientist. She'd gone to college at the University of Illinois and interned with the Chicago Police Department's 26th precinct before graduating and becoming an ACME Agent in Boston. Eventually she'd gained status within the company, working across the world with various agents from various branches but particularly the company's HQ in San Francisco, CA. Being given an oppertunity for advancement back in the Boston branch Eleanor had taken it and become a Case Director. However the decreased exposure to the field and increased desk work seemed immediately to her disliking and, find very few favorable options she applied to the company's Special Operations program. Her reputation for being passionate but foolhardy was, she believed, a factor that could work against her acceptance into the program, especially given her past work with Special Operations Director Chase Devineaux. Because of this she had requested that she be given a new persona for the ACME Detective Agency. A new name to cover the reputation of her past.
The persona had been Melissa Wayward.
The change of name had first been a pleasure to have - it was a brand new start in the company. She'd bleached her hair, she'd changed her accent, dropped weight, traded her glasses for color contacts. She'd adopted a story about being a mechanic and throughout her training had hidden from the watchful eye of Chase Devineaux, leaving her reputation to be that of the stained grease monkey with an office and a laptop. Her change had been so convincing that Chase never knew and ACME had taken advantage of that in certain ways. Eventually the head of SO figured it out but the magic had already started to wear off by then.
For months now she'd been simply staring at things that reminded her of herself, her old self. Staring at old pictures, Looking up her old profile.
Missy rose from her bed and walked to the bathroom, turning on the light and not being able to help squinting at its sudden brightness. In a well memorized move she opened the bathroom closet and reached back behind the bottles of contact fluid and boxes of root touchup to a tissue box which held a pair of wire rimmed glasses. At first looking of them had always made her smile, the feeling somewhere between a pleasure in getting away with no one knowing who she was and a relief in giving up her former self. Now they seemed to only make her remember everything she'd given up.
Her hands gently placed the glasses onto her face and she looked into the mirror, giving a small and sad smile. While before they had been seen as only an emergency pair of glasses or an occasional way to remember her old look now seeing herself with the blond hair and the glasses only reminded her of how different she looked and felt now. How she presented herself to the world was different too.
Melissa gave an auditable sigh and leaned against the sink as she continued to stare at herself. She WASN'T Melissa Wayward. She'd thought the change would do her good but now... it didn't feel like she was even in her own life anymore.
\"I can't believe I asked for this.\" she muttered softly to herself, glaring at the mirror. \"I don't want this anymore.\" The glasses no longer helped to make her feel a little normal anymore. Now they were almost like grasping at the coattails of what she had been.
What had been so wrong with being Eleanor Mayhem?
Perhaps the disguise had been useful to get her into the Special Operations program but even then that was only a maybe. She'd trained hard, she'd dropped weight, she had the abilities to back up her actions now. She'd been accepted into Special Operations. Eleanor Mayhem saved people. She helped people, she put people behind bars. Eleanor Mayhem was worth being. Why, when she was doing the best in her life, did she want to abandon everything that helped her become great?
There was a long pause. She stared at herself in the mirror, silent.
\"Tomorrow.\" she finally said to herself and pulled the glasses off of her face. Instead of putting them back into their hiding place she brought them with her back to the bed, placing them on the night table next to her bed before setting her alarm. Tomorrow she was going to change again.
With the decision made Melissa slid into bed and closed her eyes for the last time. Tomorrow Melissa Wayward would cease to exist.
----
In the heart of San Francisco, hidden in the lower levels of an unmarked brick building sat the infamous Salon Kami. Established in 1977 by Japanese hair goddess Ayano Kyo the business was only known to those who knew where to look. Ayano's talented staff were experts in their craft and were well paid not only for their abilities but for their 5 star guest service as well.
The morning manager of the establishment had wondered exactly what was going on when he pulled into the building's parking lot to find a modest sedan parked in one of the spots. Pulling himself out of his BMW and grabbing his Starbucks coffee cup from the cup holder he made sure to set the car alarm before walking towards the salon's side entrance, preparing himself for the worst.
What he found was a blond woman of a normal to slightly athletic build leaning against the wall next to the entrance, glancing at her blackberry with a slightly bored look on her face. Her manner of dress, a t-shirt and jean combo, hardly spoke of the high caliber client the establishment catered to, even if she had been trying for something along the lines of middle class chic. Renaldo Pertile, previously mentioned manager, was not impressed.
"Excuse me, may I help you?" he asked the blond. She looked up quickly from her blackberry, not startled but more trying to put away her item to allow herself to seem more polite.
"Hi, I was waiting for someone to arrive... I wanted to make an appointment."
Renaldo couldn't help but laugh. He'd seen this before yet every time he saw it again it still cracked him up just a little. The rest of the laughter came from the guilty desire to watch someone unable to get what they want. "People don't simply 'make appointments' here, Miss."
The blond seemed less broken hearted than he'd expected. Ugh. She was probably too stupid to realize the rejection yet. Instead she smiled just a little. "Actually I was hoping to be taken now."
"NOW?" the manager nearly squealed. "As in a walk in?!"
"Well, yeah. I know its early, your colorist probably won't be due in for a little while but I can wait, I don't mind."
The manager by now had lost most of his amusement but still kept at least half a smile as he coughed and approached, half strutting like a peacock. "Perhaps you don't understand. This is Salon Kami. There is no 'walk ins', no 'last minute appointments'. Even if you could afford our prices, and by your look I highly doubt you can, people make appointments here months in advance; some even YEARS!"
Amber eyes looked at Renaldo with a blank stare for a moment before reaching into her pocket and producing two items. Two business cards. One, a simple but expensive print with SALON KAMI on it in pink embossing. The edges were a bit bent but its logos stayed true as well as a hand signed signature on its back. The second was fairly pain in comparison to its companion. It had the ACME logo on it in a two ink print with the name of a detective printed in its center. Calmly she extended them to the manager who, looking at the more expensive one suddenly turned white.
"Where did you get this?" Renaldo asked softly, then turned an accusatory stare at the woman.
"IBS, Las Vegas, about two years ago. Not that its any of your business." the blond answered, her tone still sweet but her waning patience showing. "I'm going to wait here. Please go inside, lock the door behind you if you want, and call your boss. When you ask her about that card please give her my name, its on the other. Once you're done confirming please come back out and unlock the door; I've been out here for about half an hour now."
The manager, now nearly speechless, did as the woman requested, complete with locking the door behind him as he went to call his boss from the salon's phones. Within five minutes Mr. Pertile came back looking as if he'd swallowed a rather disgusting bug. Calmly he unlocked the door and motioned for the guest to enter.
"Please, Detective..." he paused and looked down at the business cards in his hand, "Mayhem. Come in."
The detective smiled, perhaps a little more than someone simply getting their way would have normally, and walked in. "Thank you."
"Madame Kyo has informed me that Salon Kami is at your disposal. What can we do for you?"
Pleased at the sudden change of attitude from the manager the woman pulled a photo from her pocket and flattened it out. Creases from its being folded were evident but the focus of the picture was clear as day. "Can you do this?"
Placing a gentle hand on the side of the photograph he looked closely at it, then at her, then it, then reached for her hair and removed its elastic with ease, letting it fall to its normal length. "You're going to need more than a colorist." he commented, his nose wrinkling.
"Can you do it?" she asked again.
"Of course we can do it." he nearly snapped, offended that she'd ask.
"Good." the woman replied softly. "Then lets get to work."----
By the time the newly changed Eleanor Mayhem reached the 11th floor of the ACME Detective Agency it was almost six in the evening. Looking out from behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses with bright blue eyes she watched for any spilling from the two Starbucks cups in her hands. Her short heels clacked against the hallway's linoleum floor at a rapid enough pace to allow her wide legged white suit pants to move just a bit with the motion.
Stopping outside the office of her boss Chase Devineaux she checked her reflection in the glass of his door before attempting to knock. Realizing that her hands were somewhat full she gently tapped with her foot at the bottom of the door, hoping the noise would reach the ears of the agent she hoped was inside.
Chase had been busy with recent projects involving minor security fixes and major renovations when he heard a tapping on his office door. He hesitated, true to his form, because very few people come to see him completely unannounced.
"It's open," he called out.
There was a bit of a pause. Slowly the door opened, first revealing a hand of coffee, followed by the white suited frame of the redhead formerly known as Missy.
Chase recognized her, but like seeing a picture of something that exists only in memory, he watched her for a while without a reaction.
"E?" he asked with hesitation, "What's going on, what happened to Missy?" In retrospect, it was a weird question to ask, but he didn't have much experience with situations like these.
She hung back towards the door for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Missy... I..." Agent E Mayhem stumbled over her words. In her head moments before it had seemed so much more clear as to how she'd explain it but now it wasn't exactly coming out the way she planned. "Missy's gone. You, uh, you should be getting a message from the Department of Records soon, I changed my name back with them. Got my old ID back and everything."
That had been a little better.
"What about S.O.?" Chase pushed aside some papers to look at her better, "are you resigning?"
"No." she shook her head quickly. "No plans on it anyway." E walked towards the desk. "I just figured... well... I'm the same person who got into S.O. no matter what my name is. So why change?"
Slowly standing, Chase took another moment to look at her.
"I suppose you're right," he spoke almost skeptically, "I was just getting used to the blonde, but we all need our level of comfort." He laughed and then pointed to the coffee, "Is that for me?"
"Hmmm?" E had half expected a worse reaction to all of this so the idea of the coffee which she still held in her hand had escaped her until he mentioned it. "Oh! Yeah, I figured you could use a mid day pick-me-up."
Carefully she handed the cup over, making sure he got a good grip on it before letting it go. "The last I remembered you liked it black...." A small smile crossed her face as she brought her own cup up for a sip. "I hope you don't mind."
Chase moved from behind his desk, took the cup, and studied it, mocking an intense stare before sipping.
"If you'd asked me before you changed back, I would have been against it," he admitted, leaning on the front of his desk, "But then I look at you now, and I'm thinking you made a good call. It's not every day you look exactly the way you feel, I hope this brings you closer to that."
He took another sip of coffee, "It's good to have you back, Eleanor."
E Mayhem grinned. "Its very nice to be back, Mr D-." she paused at the mistake and gave a light cough. "Chase." The change back was going to take a little bit of getting used to but it would, without a doubt, be worth it.
"By the way..." Chase added an afterthought, "you're only E here at base, out on the field, you're still Missy Wayward... Don't get too comfortable."