Insert standard disclaimer here: The one that reminds everyone that this is a work of fiction. No one is real and any resemblance to someone who is real is purely coincidence, honest. This is also a Fan Fiction set in the Whateley Story Universe. No Canon characters were permanently harmed in the making of this story. I hope. :)

Note: Sorry for the delay. I think that you all know the reason(s). :) This "should" be the penultimate chapter. All my crazy ideas to drag this out have been soundly shot down. Thanks for my beta readers and resident SEAL expert for their feedback and patience. And last, but not least, djkauf for his magical editing.

I debate trying to tell Aunt Julie that the video is Top Secret, but I doubt that will work.  She looks very determined.  I lead her back into Uncle Jim’s office and with a touch of a few keys to make it look like I am using the PC like a normal person; I will the video to play.

“I really thought that they were here to hurt you and Uncle Jim...” I say, trying to mute the impact of what she is about to see.

I forgot to cut out the part where I sliced open her screen window to get out of the house.  She merely raises an eyebrow at that display. Oh yeah, that is coming out of my allowance.  

Aunt Julie protectively grips my arm as I begin my ‘attack run’.  I do not need to watch the screen. I am more interested in what she thinks of it.  I watch her expression as all the status, projections and targeting information flashes and overlays the action on the screen. She looks both amazed and alarmed at the same time.  She jumps when I attack Spencer with her kitchen knife.

When the video stops, she does not say or do anything for what feels like forever. Is she going to kick me out now?  Is she going to think that I am too dangerous or out of control to feel safe with me in her house?

Finally, she turns to me and silently studies me for another 3.213 seconds, not that I was counting or anything.  “Well young lady, it certainly appears that you have a slight impulse control problem.” She says, without expression before her lips quirk into a smile that tells me that she might not be too upset with me.

“Umm, yes ma’am.” I say, blushing furiously.

“But, I can’t really fault your logic too much.  They should have known better.” Aunt Julie says, frowning briefly before abruptly standing. “Come! Let’s check the damage, shall we?”

Aunt Julie leads me to the egress window. Without opening the window, she looks at the outer screen. “Hmm, I don’t see anything...”  She says as she studies the screen intently for a few seconds. She turns to leave the room. “Wait here, I just need to turn off the window alarms.”  She makes it to the room’s door before she stops and spins back around.  

Rut roh.

“Say, just how did you open the window without setting off the alarm?” Aunt Julie asks as she studies me with suspicion.

Yeah, rut roh was right.  Busted!

“Umm, I kind of told the alarm to ignore this window for an hour?” I say, hesitantly as I feel even more ashamed of myself.

“Oh, okay. So, could you tell the alarm to ignore this window now so that we can check out the damage?” Aunt Julie asks like it is no big deal.

I am not sure if she understands what it means that I can turn off the window alarm from here or if she understands, but just does not think that it is that big  a deal.  

“Sure.” I say as I touch the window frame sensor and connect with the alarm system.

Aunt Julie walks back over and looks at the window suspiciously. “Is it off?”

“Yes ma’am.” I say, waiting for her to freak out or get mad at me.

Aunt Julie pauses and studies me for a second. “Chloe, I am not mad at you for cutting the screen or taking my best chef knife.” She looks back at the window and sighs. “And, yes, I know that what you just showed me, even though it doesn’t look like much, is a big deal.  I may be old in your eyes...”

I shake my head slowly back and forth. “You’re not...”

Aunt Julie smiles. “Hehe, thanks Chloe, but what I was getting at is, I do know enough about computers to realize that Jim’s PC was responding to your touch just a bit too fast and that ‘kind of telling the alarm to ignore this window’ is also a ‘big deal’.” She says, signing air quotes as she dropped her voice an octave or two.

I sigh with defeat. “Yes, ma’am.”

Aunt Julie surprises me by laughing gently and giving me a hug. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Chloe. I trust you.  Your Uncle Jim and I had a rather long talk about you last night.  He trusts you and that is saying a lot!  I know that you are a good person and far too smart to try and use that power to rob banks or start Global Thermonuclear War.” She says with a grin when my mouth drops to the floor at her “War Games” reference.

Yes, I know, I know. That movie is way old, but it’s still required viewing for true geek certification. “Thanks Aunt Julie. I was really worried there. I was warned to keep that ‘little’ skill or power or whatever it is, secret because it scares people, ya know?”

Aunt Julie nods with agreement. “Yes, I can imagine that it would. Smart advice and I won’t say a word, but how much can you do with computers?”

I think she knows too much already. “Umm, how about a nice game of chess?” I ask, hopeful that she will understand and drop this line of questioning.

Aunt Julie holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I get the hint. Now, about if we check the damage here?” She smiles reassuringly.

I know that she is going to be at least a little upset when she sees her screen. “Thanks and I am really sorry about cutting the screen.” I say because I am worried about how much one of those screen windows will cost.  

I cringe as she slides the window open, then looks back at me with confusion. “I thought that this was the window?”

I cautiously peek at the screen in question. There is not a single cut, rip or tear to be found.  Actually, it looks brand new.  “Umm, it was. Maybe Captain Howards replaced it?” I ask, hopeful that he did instead of just swapping it out with a different screen window.

Aunt Julie ponders the undamaged screen. “Hmmm, well, if he did, then I guess I will have to thank him if I see him again.”

“Yes ma’am.” I say, feeling relieved.

“Now, how about if I cook us something better for breakfast than a bagel while we wait for your conference call?” Aunt Julie asks, smiling as she leads me back to the kitchen.

I am pretty hungry and that reminder causes my stomach to growl. “Sure! That sounds good to me.” I say, trying to cover my embarrassment.

She pauses for a second. “Yep, something is definitely in order.  Omelets? Cheese, mushrooms, green peppers with some sun-dried tomatoes sound good?”

“Oh, yes, that sounds awesome, but you don’t have to do all that. A bowl of cereal would be fine.” I say.

“It’s not a problem.” Aunt Julie says as she begins pulling stuff out of the fridge.  “Chloe, would you mind cracking four eggs into a bowl for me while I work on the other ingredients?”

“Umm, sure?” I say, hesitantly as I take the carton of eggs from her and grab a small mixing bowl from the cabinet.  Breaking eggs; that I can do, and I can even do that without too many shell fragments.  I manage to do it this time with zero shell, then she pours a bit of milk into the bowl and I whisk it all together.  Aunt Julie gives me a quick omelet cooking class and I even manage to duplicate the results with my very own omelet.  

After we eat, I make a second omelet all by myself.  Aunt Julie is a little surprised by my appetite.  

“I’m not sure why, but I seem to need more food now.  They mentioned something about me possibly being an energizer, but it could also be due to my muscles just needing more fuel too.” I say, shrugging apologetically as I polish off the second omelet.

“Okay, one more thing that I will want to check on.” Aunt Julie says with a wry grin. “Oh, for the call, can you route it through the house phone like you did before?”

I study the secure phone for a second before decide to try cloning it. “Here, I think that you can just use this while I connect directly.” I say, handing the phone to her.

Promptly at 1000 hrs, I dial the number for Mr. Reilly with my internal cloned phone and the real phone connects at the same time.  

“Nicholas Reilly speaking.”

“Hi Mr. Reilly. Umm, Whisper here with Mrs. Stiles.” I say.

“Excellent Whisper. I think that I can safely say that everyone in this room is glad to know that you are safe and sound. Of course, Captain Howards just finished briefing us on your little, umm, training exercise last night.” Mr. Reilly says, his voice sounding a little amused, but with some exasperation in there too.  

“Yes sir, I know. I have been informed that I have some ‘impulse control’ problems.” I say as I feel myself shrink down to three feet tall from embarrassment.  Aunt Julie does not help when she covers her mouth to hide a giggle.  It also doesn’t help when I hear the rest of the people in the conference room laugh.

“Well, I hear that there is a school that can help with that.” Mr. Reilly says.

Now I am worried that Whateley will not accept me. “Yes sir, but do they let trouble magnets like me in?” I ask.  

Mr. Reilly laughs at me this time. “Oh Whisper, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that you will have a thing to worry about on that front.”

“Oh, okay...” I say, still feeling a little unsure about that because I know that public schools are prone to kick out troublemakers and send them to the special education centers where they can learn a valuable trade skill, like small engine repair.

Mr. Reilly clears his throat. “So, down to business.  As you already know, the CIA team was found early this morning and the members are currently being debriefed.  The good news is that there are no other CIA teams on the loose; the bad news is that it appears that we have a leak with this facility. More bad news is that the MCO is still looking for you.  The FBI informed us that the MCO managed to get a copy of the mall security feed from yesterday.”

“Oh, that’s not good...” I say as my stomach drops to my feet.

“No, it’s not. If they spot you on the video, then they might be able to find you.”

“Weeellll, I know you told me not to, but I kind of disguised myself with an illusion so I doubt that they will recognize me.”

I hear a new voice in the background sputter. “Impossible!” It sounds like the esteemed Dr. Remus. I stick my tongue out at him, which makes it a good thing that I am not in the room with him.  

“Hmmm, how good  an illusion?” Mr. Reilly asks.

“Is Captain Howards there?” I ask.

“Yes I am here and I have to say that based upon what I witnessed this morning; I have zero fears that the MCO will be able to identify her in the video feeds.” Captain Howards says.

“Well, that is certainly reassuring and I think it helps with our current plan. We would bring you in right now, but we need time to isolate the leak here. Because of that, we would prefer to keep Whisper with you and Mr. Stiles until Saturday morning. Will that be okay with you and your husband, Mrs. Stiles?”

Aunt Julie looks at me and smiles. “Oh, that won’t be a problem Mr. Reilly. She is an absolute gem! Will Chloe’s, I mean, Bree’s mother be able to join us?”

Mr. Reilly sighs with relief. “I am glad to hear that and as much as she would love to join her daughter; we all feel that her presence would increase the risk of detection since Mrs. Peters can be placed at the H1 incident.”

“I could disguise her too, I think...” I say.

“I am sure that you could, but remember what Fey told you about pushing yourself?” Mr. Reilly says.

I was hoping that he forgot about that. “Yes sir.” I say, despondently.

“I know that you probably miss your mother and I know that she misses you. I would love nothing better than for you to be on a Air Force dropship and at Whateley right now, but Mrs. Carson feels that would be too disruptive to the students during Spring Finals.  The majority of the student body will be leaving for Spring Break starting Friday afternoon and an early Saturday arrival will be the best from a security standpoint.”

Did he just say ‘a dropship’? Wow! I would love to get a ride in one of those things. I try to keep the excitement from my voice. “Okay, I guess that if it is okay with Aunt Julie, then I wouldn’t mind staying with her for a couple more days. Are you really going to get me a ride in a suborbital?” I ask, totally giving away my excitement.

Once again, I hear the room laughing at me. “Yes. The Air Force has a training flight that has been on the books for over a month now. We could fly you out in my jet, but the MCO is watching that like a hawk and I don’t trust them to not try something stupid.  They really hate secrets that aren’t of their own making.”

I try not to bounce up and down on my chair with excitement, but I fail in that too. “Yes sir!”

“Now, Captain Howards showed us the video from last night. Is there any way that you can connect to our network and upload the rest of your adventure?” Mr. Reilly asks.

“Umm, I tried, but it said that it couldn’t find it.” I say while wishing that I had thought to make a copy of it when Captain Howards was here.

“Did you try with the VPN client?” Dr. Edmundson asks.

“No, do I have one of those?” I ask as I take the liberty of searching for one myself.

>Searching...
>File Found!
>vpn.exe
>
>Execute? Y/n

Ummm, Yes?

>Initiating secure connection...
>Connected to darpa.mil.net
>Warning!
>This is a United States Government site.  Unauthorized access will be prosecuted.
>Continue? Y/n

Spooky. Yes.

>Connected as node whisper.darpa.mil.net

“Well, yes, you should. It should be called vpn.exe. Can you search for it?” Dr. Edmondson says.

“Found it and I am connected now using Uncle Jim’s wifi, is that okay?” I ask both to Aunt Julie and Mr. Reilly.  Aunt Julie nods her head.

>System Diagnostic Access Request from 192.123.10.9:2030
>Allow? Y/n

I guess that means that it is okay since that is the same IP that Dr. Edmundson used the last time. Sure, I mean, Yes.

I feel the data pouring out of me as Dr. Edmundson accesses the monitor. “Interesting, very interesting...” He says, distractedly and just loud enough for their conference room phone to pick up his voice.

“Can you upload the video from the abduction and up until you were picked up by Mr. Stiles?” Mr. Reilly asks.

I queue that file, but it is huge. “Umm, yes, but it is two gigabytes and over Uncle Jim’s wifi it says that it will take five hours to transfer. Is that okay?” I ask.

“Yes, that will be fine.” Mr. Reilly says.

I decide to break it into two parts before I start the file transfer so that they can view the kidnapping video sooner.  “Okay, it is on its way and I broke it into two parts for you.”

“Great! Thanks Whisper. I am sure that we will be very busy analyzing the feed. I think that we are done here. Mrs. Peters, is there anything that you would like to say?” Mr. Reilly says as I hear people start to move around in the room.

“Yes, thanks. Now Bree, I love you, but please try to stay out of trouble and listen to Mrs. Stiles.”

“Mooomm...I will.” I say, feeling embarrassed by my mom’s reminder.

“Mrs. Stiles thank you so much for being willing to watch after my daughter.” My mom says warmly.

Aunt Julie giggles. “Oh please, it is not a problem.As I said, she is a delight to have as our guest and please, just call me Julie.”

I hear the room empty as my mom and Aunt Julie start discussing me like I am not here. I sink down into my chair. I wonder if a person really can die from embarrassment.  I can hear the wistfulness in my mom’s voice when Aunt Julie tells her about the bikini and the skirt that she got me to wear.

“Is Bree still there?” Mrs. Townsend asks.

“Uh huh.” Aunt Julie says.

“Yes, I am here.” I say with Aunt Julie.

“Amanda says hi and wishes you could come to her slumber party Friday night.” Mrs. Townsend says.

Oh god!  That’s just what I need to keep a low profile.  Hang out at Amanda’s slumber party and be surrounded by a bunch of giggling girls.  I wonder if they have pillow fights while dressed in skimpy nightgowns.  Hmmm, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Oh wait. If I was there, I would be one of the girls dressed in a skimpy nightgown.  I sigh with frustration.

“Thanks, Mrs. Townsend and say hi back please. I miss her already and I wish that I could go, but that probably wouldn’t be very safe with the MCO.  They are probably watching your house since they saw you all at the H1 thing.” I say and the sad thing is that I really do wish that I could go. I wonder about myself sometimes. Maybe Sara is right, I just need to jump in with both feet and be the girl, na na na na na.  No, that is much too perilous! Help! Help! I’m being repressed!

I am such a geek. That makes me stifle a giggle and causes Aunt Julie to look at me with a curious expression.  

“That is probably true dear, but if something changes; you’re invited!” Mrs. Townsend says ending on a cheerful note and bringing me back to reality.

“Thanks, Mrs. Townsend. Maybe the MCO will give up...” I say, hopeful that will be the case since now I really do want to go.  

Am I crazy?

“I hope so! Well, I need to get back to my desk. I’ll let Amanda know you said hi when I get home tonight!” Mrs. Townsend says.

Mom and Aunt Julie decide to chit chat some more. Aunt Julie asks what kind of foods I like, but I decide that it is time to run to the bathroom when my mom drops the gender pronoun. “He liked everything except eggplant and Brussels sprouts, but now that she is an elf and a vegetarian, I don’t know.”

I have a feeling that the conversation is just going to get more embarrassing for me and I am right when they start talking about how cute I was when I was a baby.  I mute my phone because if I don’t hear it, I can pretend that it never happened.  While in the bathroom, I check my Chloe disguise and even use the toilet. Damn cold toilet seats.

Now, in addition to the pee-standing-upper doohickey, I am going to invent a seat warmer for toilets. Like those hand warmer things that hunters use for their hands. Maybe something that is antimicrobial and will easily fit into my purse. As an added benefit, you can use it as a hand warmer!  And if you call now...  

I sigh as I finish wiping. I can’t believe that I am even thinking about this kind of stuff or that I would have a purse to store said device. If someone had accused me of having a purse last week, I would have seriously considered punching them.

My mom and Aunt Julie are still chatting, so I carefully sit down on the couch and watch some TV on their big screen.  Yes, I could watch it on my built in, but they have cable.  Strangely enough, I find myself watching Project Runway and it takes me hearing Aunt Julie end the call before I realize that I stopped on that channel.  I quickly change to Dirty Jobs to help regain some man cred because there is nothing more manly than learning how to artificially inseminate a horse.  Eeeewww!  

I switch back to Project Runway just as Aunt Julie walks in on me. “So, your mom and I were talking and it sounds like you might need a few more clothes.  Mr. Reilly has agreed to reimburse me for up to $2,000 worth of clothes for you. Do you have any colors that you don’t like?” She asks.

That is a surprise. I mute the TV and look up at her. “Umm, definitely no pink and maybe purple?”

“Okay, well, I need to run into the office for an hour to check on some patients. After that, I will grab a few more outfits for you and if that doesn’t take too long, maybe you can come with me to the grocery store?”

“Oh, sure, that sounds good because how many people attack grocery stores these days?” I ask with a grin.

Aunt Julie laughs at my joke while I decide to look up the crime stats on that very question. I do not find a lot, but it looks like convenience stores are pretty dangerous places. She runs back upstairs to her room to get ready and amazingly, returns five minutes later ready to go.  She gives me a quick hug and races out the door looking extremely excited. “I can’t wait to go shopping for you!”

I follow her out the door and wave goodbye to her as she backs out of the garage.  She smiles and before the garage door closes I see her mouth, “Stay out of trouble...”  Geez, it is not like I look for trouble.  Up until the past week, I managed to live a pretty normal and trouble free life.  Can’t I use that as my record?

I check the upload status and the first video upload is only 39% complete with an estimated four more hours to go for the complete upload.  Uploading files via the interwebs is so slow.  I wish that I could connect via a satellite or something faster.  Well, part of the problem is with the wifi.  Hmmm, they have cable internet.  The download speed is pretty darn fast.

Is the modem limiting the upload speed to 500 kb per second instead of allowing 10 mb per second like it does for the download speed?  I find the cable modem and give it a closer look.  Yes, it is the modem itself that is controlling both the upload and the download speeds.  It looks like the modem is actually capable of 20 mb per second both ways, but the cable company is limiting it.  I fix that little ‘bug’ and bam!, the ETA drops in half.  

Crap! Now it is the wifi that is limiting the speed. I debate sending it faster, but that might raise more questions that I want to have asked.  Hmm, I decide to tone down the cable modem upload speed limit to match Uncle Jim’s wifi speed limit and leave things alone after that.  No sense in taking chances by attracting attention at this stage.

With that it going as fast as I can safely allow, I decide to watch some more of that fashion show. It is surprisingly entertaining watching these people come up with outfits out of nothing.  That lasts for 20 minutes before I can’t take it anymore and I find a Mythbusters episode. Sweet!  They are blowing up a cement truck!  Male mojo infusion, check!

[ding-dong!]

The front doorbell rings.  What the heck?  Should I answer it?  I peek out the door and there is a delivery dude there.  I don’t detect anything strange about him. No hidden radios, CAC ID cards or ray guns on him.  He has a handheld package scanner and a small mp3 player.  I cautiously open the door just as he is about to turn and leave.

“Sorry it took me so long. Did you have something for my Aunt or Uncle?” I ask.

His eyes widen with surprise or something as he sees me.  Did I forget to re-activate my Chloe disguise? Am I not wearing clothes? Why is he smiling at me and blushing?  

He looks at the label on the letter sized package. “Is your Aunt named Chloe Stiles?” He asks.

That is a surprise.  “Umm, no. I’m Chloe, why?” I ask, then feel dumb when I realize how stupid that sounds when he is holding a package in his hands that appears to be addressed to me.  “Oh god, that’s pretty stupid of me isn’t it?”

He laughs at me, but it is a nice laugh. Not mean or anything.  “No, not at all. It happens all the time. It is amazing how many people are surprised that someone would want to send them a package.”  He grins as he holds out his scanner with the plastic stylus. “Sign here please.”  

The scanner looks legit. No sign of a hidden stun gun or anything else.  I grab it and sign Chloe Stiles in the box.  He hands me the package with a smile. “Have a nice day ma’am.”

“Umm, thanks. You too...” I say, somewhat distractedly as I study the thin cardboard envelope and close the door behind me. I don’t detect anything electronic in it. So, it should not blow up on me if I open it. Who would send me a package and who would even know that I am here?

I set the envelope on the coffee table in the living room and study it for over five minutes before I dredge up the courage to open it.  Okay, it was 5 minutes and 23 seconds. It is not my fault that my built in timer is so anal retentive.

It does not blow up and no knockout gas poofs out of the envelope when I open it.  Inside I find a piece of paper with a typed note, a New York Driver’s License with Chloe’s name and picture on it, a Social Security Card, a Student ID card for some religious private school called The Saint Quiteria School for Young Ladies along with a class schedule, official looking birth certificate that says my name is Chloe Jessica Stiles with Mother listed as Karen Stiles and Father as Jonathan Stiles and the return portion of a round trip plane ticket from Norfolk to New York.  The most important discovery that I make is that both my birth certificate and driver’s license says that I am 16, while the student ID card says that I am a sophomore.  Sweet!  I can drive!

With that discovery, I almost forget about the note.
 

Chloe,

Here are some things that might help you.  Don’t worry, they are not fake.  Remind me to de-register you from the school so that your “parents” don’t get called about you missing school next week. :)

Hugs,

P

Wow. Just wow. I REALLY need to be nice to Paige when I get to Whateley.

I decide to use Uncle Jim’s shredder on Paige’s note. No real reason to destroy it, but no real reason to keep it either.  Plus, using the shredder is easier than eating it.  Since my kidnappers left my purse back in the not so secret test lab, I don’t know what to do with my license and student ID card. The back pocket of my jeans will just have to do for now. I leave the class schedule, birth certificate and SSN card in the envelope. No reason to carry those around with me.  That was my plan, until I discover that pockets are all sewn shut.  Why do they do that?  Don’t girls use their pockets?

I borrow one of Aunt Julie’s knives again and fix that little defect with my jeans, then satisfied; I slide my new license and student ID into my back pocket.  No, I did not perform the pocket surgery while wearing the jeans and no, you do not need pictures of me without my pants on.

I make some lunch, watch more Mythbusters, watch a full episode of that other show, sorry, I can’t help it. It is kind of funny to learn how fashion designers think about clothing.  It is just clothing, but they treat it like it is going to solve world peace or something.  The show does have Heidi Klum though. She might be old, ummm, er, but she is still pretty hot and I love that German accent of hers.

At 1323 hours and just as the designers are picking their models, the phone rings. I let their answering machine pick up the call. “Chloe? It’s me. Are you there?” I hear Aunt Julie say over the answering machine. I race to the phone that has the answering machine hooked up to it and pick up the line.

“Hi, Aunt Julie! I’m here.” I say.

“Oh, good! Was starting to get worried.” Aunt Julie says with a relieved laugh. “How are you doing? Is everything okay? Did you have any trouble?”

“Hehe, nope. No problems here. I made myself some lunch and not once did someone try to attack me. It’s actually kind of boring...” I say, trying to sound disappointed by that.

“Chloe!” Aunt Julie says with a smile in her voice. “I’m almost done here at the hospital and it should only take me an hour or two to find you a few more outfits. Is there anything else you need?”

“Umm, a purse?” I ask, feeling very reluctant to admit that need to myself or her.

“Oh yeah. I can’t believe that I didn’t think of that last night. I have a few extra ones in my closet. Feel free to grab one while you wait.” Aunt Julie says.

Just like my parents, I feel a little hesitant to venture into their room. “In your room?” I ask, cringing as I immediately regret my question. My hair isn’t really blonde, why am I asking so many stupid questions this morning?

Aunt Julie giggles. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing in there that will attack you.”

“Oh, I know, I think. I just don’t feel comfortable going through other people’s rooms.” I say, finding it ironic that as a rogue, that is my job in GEO.

“Okay, well, I need to go. I have my cell; call me if you think of anything.”

“I will...bye Aunt Julie.” I say as I hang up the phone and debate hunting for a purse. I do have a lot more stuff to haul around now, but then again, no I don’t.  A driver’s license and a student ID is not “a lot of stuff”.  I don’t have a phone. I don’t have or need makeup. I don’t have, but might need some of those tampon things, eventually.  Okay, that decides it for me. I do ‘not’ need a purse right now.

Woot! Time for more of my show. I plop myself back down in front of the TV. Who will win this challenge?

[Ding-dong!]

What the heck?! Do Aunt Julie and Uncle Jim get this many deliveries every day?

“Coming!” I yell as scramble to the door and reach for the handle.

>Alert!
>Electronic surveillance devices detected!
>Searching...
>Match found!
>Mutant Commission Office device match...
>Covert Video surveillance device Model# C32KX

What does that do?

>Covert Video surveillance device Model# C32KX:

>Standard 720p video record mode

>Stereo Audio record mode

> 16 GB Onboard Memory w/ USB Interface

>Automatic Low light with flare compensation.

>Infrared equipped.

>Standard facial recognition matching algorithms.

Oh crap, I mean, crud.  Does my illusion cover the IR spectrum?

“Be right there!” I yell as I run to the bathroom, switch to IR and view myself in the mirror.  Yep, my Chloe IR signature looks like Chloe and not me.  No elf ears detected. I flush the toilet then run back to the door.  

Crap!  Maybe I should have pretended to not be here.  Oh well, too late now.

“Hi? Can I help you?” I ask as I cautiously open the door and am almost immediately bombarded with an IR pulse from their glasses.  I pay more attention to what their system is doing than to them as it tries to find a match for my face.  It fails, but it makes me wonder if it would have failed anyway.  Do they even have a good scan of my real face?  The failure sends a buzzer tone to their earpiece that I assume indicates a failure.

“Yes, we are sorry to bother you ma’am, but I am MCO Agent Schiller.” The dude on the right says, sounding genuinely apologetic as they both display their MCO badges to me. Agent Schiller gestures to the second dude. “And, this is my partner Agent Mattsen. We just need to ask you a few questions regarding a deadly mutant who escaped from police custody yesterday.”

Wow, they are really laying it on thick there. I never realized that I was both “deadly” or in “police custody”.  Okay, I am Chloe Jessica Stiles. I am on vacation and I am missing the ending of my show. How will I ever find out who won the design challenge?  I narrow my eyes with anger. “Again? Is this about that girl from the mall yesterday?  The one who interrupted my shopping?!?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest and insolently canting my head to the side.

“We are very sorry ma’am, but we are just following standard procedure and doing some random follow ups with potential witnesses to make sure we didn’t miss anything.” Agent Schiller says as he glances back to their car with longing.

Standard procedure random follow-up my butt!  They had to have used the video footage that Mr. Reilly mentioned. “Oh, well, that’s easy. No. I didn’t see anything except for the Michael Kors purse that I couldn’t buy due to this missing mutant of yours.  Can’t you all keep better track of them?” I say, huffing with frustration as I glance back at the TV impatiently.  Now I have that show to thank for because until I watched it, I never even knew who Michael Kors was. I hope that he actually has some purses in his collection or whatever they call it.

They both take a step back. “Sorry ma’am. I think we got everything that we came for. Very sorry to have bothered you. Have a nice day!” Agent Schiller says before they both retreat back to their car.

“Fuck...I told Lainer that she wasn’t the one...why in the hell did we have to get the short straw?” Agent Schiller mutters to Agent Mattsen when he thinks that they are out of my hearing range.

I close and lock the door, then peek out the front window to confirm that they are really leaving.  I detect an encrypted radio transmission from their car as they pull out and aggressively accelerate away. Yeah, I think that they are officially pissed and Chloe is off their suspect list. I hope.

The phone starts ringing again. Geez, now what?  It is probably Aunt Julie again. I run back into the kitchen and pick up the phone before it can go to the machine.  “Hello, Stiles residence. Chloe speaking.” I say.

“Chloe!?” Uncle Jim asks, sounding worried about something.

“Oh, hi Uncle Jim. Sorry, I thought you were Aunt Julie. Is something wrong?” I ask.

“Have the MCO come yet?” He asks.

I laugh. Okay, giggle darn it.  I blame the adrenalin rush. “Oh yeah. Agent Schiller and Agent Mattsen just left. I got mad at them because they interrupted Project Runway. Why?” I ask, trying to stay in character just in case ‘they’ are illegally tapping Uncle Jim’s phone.  I don’t detect any taps, but I also don’t really know what a phone tap ‘feels’ like either.

“Oh...” Uncle Jim pauses with surprise.  “You got mad at them and they left?!”

“Well, yeah. I am Chloe Jessica Stiles and like I said, they were interrupting Project Runway.  Why wouldn’t I get upset over something as important as that?” I ask.

“That worked?” He asks, incredulously.

“Yep, I can tell you all about it tonight during dinner and would you believe that I missed who won the design challenge?”

“Well, I guess everything is okay then?” He says hesitantly. “When do you expect, umm, Aunt Julie to be back?”

It sounds a little strange hearing him call her ‘Aunt Julie’, but it is part of my cover. “Oh, she just called and said that she was on her way to shop for some clothes, then, depending on how long that took, she would either come home or just go to the grocery store to pick up stuff for dinner tonight.  Do you want me to ask her to call you?”

“No, that’s okay. I will be in court the rest of the afternoon. Just let her know that I should be home at the usual time.”

“Okay. Oh! Commercial is over. Is there anything else?” I ask with a touch of impatience for the benefit of any possible listeners.

“No, that’s it. Thanks Chloe.” Uncle Jim says, sounding a bit bewildered, yet relieved at the same time.  Chloe seems to have that effect on people.

“No problemo! Bye Uncle Jim. Love ya!” I say cheerfully as I set the phone back down and cringe at my girliness there at the end.  Where did that come from?  This Chloe character of mine is affecting me now too.  I need to change the channel back to Mythbusters or something before she takes over!

I switch the channel and some ultra-manly show about custom built choppers is on.  Phew!  I can practically feel the testosterone oozing back into me from the TV screen as the big old dude uses an axe to make a hole in his son’s office door.  Not sure why, but it is kind of entertaining in a train wreck kind of way.  That show ends and I am halfway through a very interesting show on sharks when I intercept the garage door signal.

Woot! Aunt Julie is home!  I am so bored.  I run to the door that leads to the garage and open it as Aunt Julie pulls into the garage.  She happily waves at me as she shuts off her car and closes the garage door.  “Oooh, Chloe! I can’t wait for you to try on some of the outfits I found for you!” She says as she excitedly opens the back and pulls out far too many expensive looking bags.

Her excitement, plus my chopper testosterone infusion causes me to pause.  “Umm, okay. Do you need any help carrying things in?” I ask.

Aunt Julie waves me away. “Oh no!  I can get it. Besides, I don’t want to ruin the surprise.  I can’t wait to see what you think!”

“Oh, are you sure?” I ask as I take note of the growing pile of bags with alarm.  How did she get so much in only an hour or two?

“Yep, why don’t you head upstairs to your room and I will bring your stuff upstairs for you try and see what you think.” Aunt Julie says.

I anxiously wait on my bed as she brings in the first load and sets them on the floor.  “Wait here. No peeking.” She says before she runs back down to the garage for more bags.

Even without peeking, I can’t help noticing the expensive names on the bags. Macy’s and Nordstrom's are predominant before she returns with a couple Gap and Forever 21 bags. Oh yeah, and another Victoria’s Secret bag.  Oh joy.

Counting last night’s purchases, I think she spent at least 2k on me. If not more.  Aunt Julie reveals and has me try on a tan pair of leather ankle boots with a three inch stiletto heel. Yikes! She also pulls out a pair of comfy looking black with a hint of pink Puma wrestling style shoes.  

“Sorry about the pink in them. They were the least girly girl sneakers that I could find.” Aunt Julie says, apologetically as I try them on and yes, they are comfortable.

The Victoria’s bag is easy. In that bag are a couple more bras and an assortment of panties, including some cute boy cut panties designed to resemble briefs.  Did I just think that they were cute?  Fortunately, she doesn’t have me try on any of those.  

She does pull out a few pairs of shorts, two pairs of Capri pants and three more pairs of jeans.  All of those, I kind of like the black jeans with the shiny vertical row non-functional buttons that rise about six inches from the hem.  Yes, I learned a new word from that show.  

The shorts, I think those are too short, too tight and no pockets.  Why couldn’t Aunt Julie find me some nice and loose khaki explorer shorts that almost reach the knee?  I mean, these aren’t Daisy Duke shorts, but they show way too much thigh. Which is fine with me when other girls wear them, but on me?

The Capri pants still confuse me, but I guess high water pants could be okay to wear in the summer instead of jeans.  The fabric is thinner and probably not as hot.  The pockets are worse than my jeans though.  The rear pockets are totally fake while the front pockets are just a few inches deep.  Why did they even bother?

That takes care of almost half of the bags.  From the Macy’s bag Aunt Julie pulls out a dark grey skirt.  “Now, this charcoal skirt is dressier. It is something you can wear to a meeting or job interview.” She says as she lays it on the bed.  She matches the skirt with a white silk blouse and a matching charcoal blazer.  Her words. I would have called it a jacket or coat even though it doesn’t look very warm.

Next, Aunt Julie pulls out some silk skirt thing. “This is a slip. It goes on under your skirt to keep the lines smooth and the skirt from bunching up or clinging to your legs.”

She lays that on top of the skirt and pulls out a pair of black tight looking things. “Cotton stockings with 10% spandex. The best I could find that don’t need a garter belt to hold up.” She says as she hands them to me, and then reaches into the bag and pulls out another black and two white pairs of the same.

They don’t trigger an allergy alert and that both pleases and alarms me at the same time. I am not really going to wear tights, am I?

“Okay, now let’s see if this stuff fits.  Take off your jeans and top, and then put the tights on.” Aunt Julie says with an excited twinkle in her eye.  

I dubiously look at the tights, then stick my toe in and start to pull them up like they are socks. “Whoa!  Not like that. You will rip or snag them trying to pull them up like that.”

She has me roll them and slowly pull them up, past my hips.  With these, I am not sure why I need to wear underwear, but there must be a reason or she would have told me to take my panties off too, right?

Next is the slip and that plus the tights feels real strange on my legs. The blouse is next, followed by the skirt. “Your slip is showing.” Aunt Julie says critically before she rolls it up around my waist to shorten it.

“Okay, is that bad?” I ask, wondering why a slip is treated like some forbidden thing to see, like panties or something.

Aunt Julie smirks. “Not entirely, but it can be embarrassing to have it show.”

“Why?”

“Because it isn’t supposed to show and if it does show, it tells people that your skirt doesn’t fit properly.”

“Oh, can’t you just buy skirts that don’t need slips and why not just wear pants instead?” I ask because this seems like a lot of trouble for silly reasons.  Who cares if lines show or if the skirt clings a little?  

“Chloe, Chloe, Chloe...I can see that your fashion education is going to be so much fun.” Aunt Julie says with a happy smile.

There is not a lot that I can say to that. She is having way too much fun with this and I can’t believe that I am wearing this. What happened to me?  Are all the girls that I know, plus some that I don’t, along with the TV, conspiring against me?  Was it chance that today is a Project Runway marathon?  Now, I am starting to get paranoid, but is it  paranoia if they are really out to get you?

Aunt Julie hands me the matching blazer suit coat thing and with that ‘look’ complete, she pulls out her super secret weapon.  A box with a pair of shiny black pumps with a three inch heel.  “Here, put these on and walk over there. I want to see how you look.” She points to the window.

I gingerly take the offered, umm, pumps from her. “Are you sure?” I ask, hoping that she will change her mind.

“Of course, other than some jewelry, the shoes are the only thing that is missing.” Aunt Julie says.

Aunt Julie watches me like a hawk as I take a step backwards to sit on the bed so that I can slide the pumps onto my feet.  Why is she looking at me like that?  I start to sit.

“Stop!” She says.

Surprised, I stop and look at her. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You can’t just sit. You have to smooth your skirt underneath you as you sit and keep your knees together. Remember, you wearing a skirt.” Aunt Julie says as she pantomimes her instructions.

“Oh yeah...” I say feeling a tad annoyed with all the rules, but I follow her instructions and sit down.  The pumps go on without a hitch, but once again Aunt Julie is watching me, ready to pounce.  I bet that she expects me to fall over or trip in the heels.  Well, that is one area that I should not have problems with due to all my VR training.

I put that to the test when I stand without a single wobble and casually walk over to the window. Aunt Julie smiles at me when I turn back to face her.

“How was that?” I ask pleased with myself.

“Fine dear. Have you worn heels before?” Aunt Julie asks.

“Well, I had some two inch heels on my boots, but I have worn longer in my VR space to see what they were like.” I say, looking down at my feet and enjoying the feeling of being so tall.

“Ahh, that’s good, but look at your skirt.” Aunt Julie says, gesturing at it with her eyes.

I look at it and the back is a little crumpled. “Oh.” I say as I self-consciously smooth it out.

“Remember to also smooth it out when you stand.” Aunt Julie says.

“Okay.” I say as I walk over to the bathroom mirror so that I can see how I look.

“What is this ‘VR space’ thing you mentioned?” Aunt Julie asks.

I think that I look really really nice. Well, Chloe does anyway, but her question interrupts my pleased self admiration.  “I guess that I can tell you...” I say as I collect my thoughts on how to best explain it to her. “Due to the nanites, I have this Virtual Reality thing that I can do inside my head.  I have a virtual living room that I can relax in and read books or watch TV. I have a Jacuzzi and pool area now. I added that last night.” I blush when I mention that addition.  “I also have a shooting range that I practice in, too.” I try to gloss over that, but she startles a little when I mention it.

“A shooting range? Is that safe?” Aunt Julie asks, sounding concerned.

“Umm, well, I guess so? It’s not real, but it is a lot of fun.” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

“Oh, so you practiced walking in heels in there, then?” Aunt Julie asks.

“Yeah, a little.  Sara likes to visit every now and then and she likes it when we play dress up.” I say, cringing a little at how pathetic that sounds.  Dress up? Really? Is that the best I could come up with?

“Sara is a virtual friend of yours?” Aunt Julie asks.

That question surprises me and a giggle escapes me.  “Oh no, she’s real.  She goes to Whateley and is Fey’s sister or something, so now she is my cousin because Fey sorta adopted me since I am a Sidhe elf...” I notice that Aunt Julie is looking a little confused. “...yeah, it’s a little complicated.” I lamely finish.

“Okay, I guess you can try to explain it all to me tonight or tomorrow.” Aunt Julie says as she stands and grabs another bag.  She roots through it and pulls out a small black leather purse. “Here you go.  You probably don’t have much to put in it right now, but you can’t go out without a purse.” She says as she hands it to me.

“Oh, thanks!” I say with a surprising amount of enthusiasm.  Surprising for me anyway.  I grab my jeans and pull out my Chloe driver’s license and student ID from the back pockets.

“What are those?” Aunt Julie asks suspiciously.

Rut Roh!

“Oh,” I try to laugh like it is no big deal, but it comes out as a no big deal giggle instead. “Sara managed to send me a real fake ID to help with my disguise. Sorry that I forgot to tell you about it when you got home, but...” I glance down at my outfit and all the bags.

“Hmmm, can I see them?” Aunt Julie asks as she holds her hand out expectantly.  

“Sure.” I say as I hand her the IDs.  

She studies them and holds the license up to the light in an attempt to discover if it is a fake.  The license has the official looking hologram and Paige sent it to me, so I doubt that it is fake.  

“It looks real to me and The Saint Quiteria School for Young Ladies is a pretty exclusive private school in Karen’s, umm, your Mom’s neighborhood. How did?” Aunt Julie asks with wonder as she hands them both back to me.

I shrug my shoulders. “Beats me, but I also have an official looking birth certificate, a round trip plane ticket and a class schedule downstairs on the kitchen table.”

Aunt Julie shakes her head with a mixture of confusion and wonder. “Amazing...” She says.  Then, she thoughtfully studies me. “Hmmm, can you drop your illusion? I want to see how you look as yourself.”

I drop the Chloe illusion and gaze at Aunt Julie self consciously.  What will she think?  

“Okay, turn.” She says as she studies me.

I turn and catch my reflection in the mirror. I think that I look pretty nice, but I am not sure because I think that my pale skin, short black hair with the charcoal suit kind of makes me look a little too pale.   

Aunt Julie purses her lips in thought before she joins me at my side. “Hmmm, I think that you could use just a little more color around your eyes and maybe something to bring out the color of your lips a bit more too.  Maybe some green to help make your already gorgeous eyes pop a little more along with a touch of red on your lips.”

With that in mind, I cast a very minor illusion to add some smoky green eye shadow with a touch of red to my lips.  Not too dark, but not too light. I do not want to look Goth or have pink lips. I keep the illusion open so that I can make adjustments to it if needed.  

Aunt Julie looks at me with surprise as my make up changes to match her suggestion. “My, that’s umm, surprising.” She laughs nervously. “I mean, I guess it shouldn’t be, due to your Chloe disguise, but wow, just wow. Can you do that to other people?” She asks, sounding a bit hopeful.

I decide to drop the makeup illusion on myself so that I can concentrate on Aunt Julie’s look.  Using a VR overlay of Aunt Julie, I change her hair from blonde to dark black and make it long and full of body or gentle curls as they explained on the show during the makeup and hairstyle portion.  I give her that sort of wild and unkempt look that probably takes a lot of time and hairspray to achieve in real life.  Then, I give her image dark red lips and to help make her blue eyes pop, I add a brilliant turquoise blue/green color around her eyes that fades to dark blue.

Essentially, I just follow the example that the pros did to one of the runway models for the big reveal, but I also tweak things a little to adapt it for Aunt Julie.  I also add some thin dangly blue sapphire earrings that hang down to the top of her jawline and for a twist, a blue sapphire nose stud.  I finish the look with a matching blue sapphire encrusted choker necklace and I smile at those additions.  Sara is definitely a bad influence on me.

“What are you doing?” Aunt Julie asks, nervously.

“Nothing...yet.” I say as I lock her image in my head and open myself up to the magic.

Aunt Julie shivers a little as the magic settles over her and I can’t help feeling extremely pleased by how she turned out.  All I need to do to complete her look is change her outfit to a tight black mini-skirt with some black leather stiletto heels and she would look, umm, my thoughts trail off there as I start to blush. Then, I notice that my nipples feel strangely sensitive and something low in my belly reacts in embarrassing ways.

“Chloe? What’s wrong?” Aunt Julie asks as she studies my face.

“Umm, nothing. Look in the mirror.” I say, managing to squeak out a reply.

Curious, Aunt Julie turns and spots her reflection.  “Holy shit!” She says as she grabs for her hair, then runs forward to examine her face in the mirror.  Her fake hair responds as if it was real when she runs her hands through it, but I can tell that she feels something wrong because her real hair is straight.  

Aunt Julie laughs when she spots the stud in her nose. “Oh my!  Chloe, this is so, ummm, well, I don’t know.” She cautiously touches the stud, then smiles when she realizes that it isn’t real. She also tries to grasp the choker. Finally, she takes a step back to take in the entire look as she turns her head from one side to the other.

“Wow...I thought your Chloe disguise was amazing, but this is...How long will this last?” Aunt Julie asks.

“Umm, I’m not sure? I think it might last for a few hours, but maybe a day. I can cancel it now though.” I say apologetically.

Aunt Julie doesn’t say anything as she intently studies herself in the mirror for another minute. “Hmmm, I like it. I might have to dye my hair black one of these days. I doubt that I could get away with the nose stud, but, surprisingly, I like that too.” She turns to me and laughs. “You’re a bad influence Chloe. I might have to get a magnetic stud for Halloween.”

Her grin fades as she looks at me with a calculating expression. “You know, if you could make this last for a day, you could make a pretty good living as a makeup artist. Heck, more than just a makeup artist...can you do this to me again tonight after dinner? I have something that I want to...” She trails off with a blush.

I grin and nod my head as I figure out what she probably plans on doing. Uncle Jim is going to be so surprised when he sees her.

Abruptly, Aunt Julie looks past me. “Whoa! It’s almost 4:30. We need to get to the grocery store so that I can cook dinner tonight. Can you cancel this...” She gestures toward her face. “Redo your Chloe disguise and then, let’s get a moving.”

I cancel Aunt Julie’s illusion and look down at myself.  I am wearing a skirt and high heels. “Umm, shouldn’t I change my clothes too?” I ask, hopefully because I do not want to go out in public like this.

Aunt Julie glances at me without concern. “No?  Why? You look perfect in that.”

“Umm, I don’t want to get anything on it?” I say, hesitantly as I pray for her to agree with me.

She waves my concern away. “Oh, we are just riding the grocery store and walking down a few aisles. Shopping is not like football or something.” She laughs.

“But...” I say, feeling the hope dwindle away.

“No buts, plus, we don’t have time for you to change right now. We gotta go. Come on.” Aunt Julie says as she motions for me to follow her out of the room. “And, don’t forget your purse Chloe.”

“I could stay here and umm, guard the house...” I say timidly and with the dreaded purse in hand as I let her lead me to the car and my doom.

Somehow, I manage to get into her SUV without too much trouble. I smooth out my skirt as I sit and even keep my knees together as I swing my legs into the passenger foot well. That accomplishment distracts me from my current emergency. Should I start up the STIMS?  

Aunt Julie starts the car, opens the garage door, but stops backing out after only a few feet.  Maybe she is stopping so that I can go back into the house where it is safe?

“Chloe. Your disguise.” Aunt Julie says.

Curses! Foiled again...

I recast it and she backs out to the street.  I longingly stare at the nice and safe house as it disappears behind us.  I look down and my stocking encased legs fill me with dread.  I know that I shouldn’t feel this way. I walked all over the mall yesterday as Chloe and looking like I was wearing a much more revealing skirt, but that was not real and this is.

During the drive, Aunt Julie talks to me about dinner, but I find it difficult to pay attention. I think she says something about making stuffed salmon and some other stuff.  I manage to nod my head or say “uh huh” at the appropriate places in the conversation to keep her going, but I cannot stop worrying about wearing a skirt in public.  What if people laugh at me?  I know, I know, pretty darn silly of me to worry about that since girls wear skirts all the time and the last time I checked, I am definitely still a girl.  

“Okay Bree, it’s just a skirt. You can do this!” I think to myself.

“No I can’t!”

“Stop that! Yes you can! It’s just camouflage, remember?”

“But...”

Hey, yeah. It is just camouflage.  That reassuring thought lasts all the way until Aunt Julie surprises me.

“Are you getting out?” She asks, looking over at me from her open door.

“Umm, sure?” I say as I flail with the door handle a few times due to my nerves.

Aunt Julie meets me on my side of the car. “Come on dear. You look fine. No reason for you to be nervous about this. It is just a grocery store and don’t forget your purse.” She says with a gentle smile.

We enter the grocery store and I feel somewhat reassured when no one points me out by yelling something like, “Hey! Look at the boy in the skirt! Ha ha!”  No one said that irrational fears have to be rational.

“Relax Chloe.  You’re starting to draw some second glances due to your panicked expression instead of your beauty.”

I sigh with frustration and that helps. “I know. I’m sorry, Aunt Julie, I’ve just never worn a skirt or heels out in public before and I’m so nervous about it. What if I do something wrong?” I ask.

“If anyone notices, I will just explain to them that you’re a recovering tomboy, but I really don’t think that anyone will notice a thing if you just relax.” Aunt Julie says as she inspects some broccoli.

“The other one is fresher.” I say, pointing to the clump that looks a bit greener to me.

Aunt Julie picks it up and then, turns and smiles at me. “Thanks!” She says as she puts it in a bag.  

Aunt Julie helps me relax by explaining how to cook this vegetable or that with what seasonings and method.   By the time we make it to the fresh seafood section, I am feeling a little embarrassed about my reaction. No one, including myself, sees anything other than a pretty girl shopping with her mother or older sister.  I might be over dressed, but a lot of women are dressed the same way since the store is probably their last stop before they return home after a day at the office.  

My outfit is almost the perfect disguise and that realization causes me to fully relax and enjoy myself.  It is so nice to be out of the house and not being chased by someone bent on killing or capturing me. I am able to maintain that happy Zen state until we turn down the aisle that has all the feminine hygiene products, and then, we stop right in the middle of the display.

I look up and see a veritable tsunami of choices, options and colors ready to crash down on my head.  Aunt Julie must need some tampons. She can’t be stopping here for me, can she? I wouldn’t know what to pick, I don’t want to know and the longer that I can put off that inevitable first purchase; the longer that I can pretend that I am not really a girl even though I am.

Besides, my mom stocked my purse, I avoided looking at them, and furthermore, pre-girl infection, I specifically avoided this aisle when I was forced to join my mom in the store. The one time my mom made me hand her a box of these things, I felt guilty and self-conscious until we left the aisle. What if one of the guys from school had seen me touching the box?

“Ahh, here we go, last stop. If I am not mistaken, you need some of tampons young lady. What brand do you use?” Aunt Julie asks as if it is the most normal thing in the world to ask another person.

“Umm, umm...” I stare at the shouting wall of girlhood reminders and I start to feel overwhelmed. First it was the skirt, plus all the additional girl stuff that I am wearing. Then it was appearing in public while wearing those things and now it is the one thing that I have been purposely avoiding since I turned. I want to run, but where would I run to?

“Doctor Stiles?” I hear a woman’s voice call out with surprise and distract me from my current emergency.

We both turn and I spot an older, well dressed woman approaching our position.  She appears to be in her mid to late forties and makes me look underdressed. She smiles as she receives confirmation of Aunt Julie’s identification.  

I glance sideways to Aunt Julie and she looks surprised to see the woman. “Mrs. Grantson? What a pleasant surprise.” She says with a smile.

“Oh my dear. It is such a pleasure to see you again. How long has it been?” Mrs. Grantson asks as she gives Aunt Julie a hug before stepping back. “Just look at you! How do you manage to look so young?”

“Oh, just healthy eating and regular exercise. You know, doctor’s orders.  You’re looking stunning as usual. What brings you here?” Aunt Julie asks, looking a little embarrassed and flustered.

Who is this woman?

Mrs. Grantson laughs. “You mean why am I doing my own shopping when I don’t have to?”

Aunt Julie looks embarrassed. “No, no, no. I was just surprised to run into you today.”

“Oh dear, you don’t have to pretend. I would normally never step foot into a grocery store, but we are hosting a promotion party for Rear Admiral Jensen on Friday and I had to make some last minute changes to the appetizers.” Mrs. Grantson says before she turns her gaze to me. “And who is this beautiful young lady?”

“Oh, this is my niece, Chloe. She is on break this week so she decided to visit. Chloe, this is Admiral Grantson’s wife, Mrs. Victoria Grantson.”

I feel like saluting or something, but instead, I copy the curtsy that I performed as Whisper. “Pleased to meet you ma’am.”

“Oh my.” Mrs. Grantson says, clasping her hands together with pleasure. “Such fine manners. Just where do you go to school my dear?”

“Oh, I go to The Saint Quiteria School for Young Ladies in New York.” I say, then immediately regret my answer when I see her eyes light up with recognition.

Mrs. Grantson hugs me. “It is so rare to meet a fellow Sister of the Nine!”

Oh crap!