The Dresden Files/Codex Alera is copyright Jim Butcher. This story is licensed under the Creative Commons as derivative, noncommercial fiction.

"Everything is a rat's nest! A rat's nest, I tell ya, Tiffany!" The woman in the chair spoke in a heavy New Jersey accent. She was about 65 going on 150 years old and had fluffy blond mixed with gray hair that had grown out over the past few months into a lumpy, oily mess on top of her head.

"I can see that," I said from behind my designer N95 mask. It was white trimmed with black accents and looked to have been created in Apple's Tesla lab.

"I want a trim and the roots! Look at my roots! I want those taken care of, doll. You can do that, yes?"

"Yes, Mrs. Feinstein." I ran my fingers through her damaged gray and blond locks.

Harry would never have known what to do, but from accessing Lara's memories, I was able to put together a strategy for curing her hair woes. Leaning her back in the chair, I began to shampoo her hair using warm water.

"I am so grateful to you; you have no idea." She said as I worked the water and shampoo through her hair. She wasn't wearing a mask, apparently believing herself to mean for the virus to take hold.

I looked over at Thomas and could feel his grin behind his own designer mask. He worked on a lovely thirty-something blond who only needed a trim. Mrs. Feldstein was going to take me most of the day.

Three other hair designers were working this morning in 'The Coiffure Cup," Thomas's salon. It's not that he enjoyed working with hair; he used it to skim life force from each of his customers. Just a bit here or there to not cause any worry or panic.

As I reached in to shampoo the bottom of Mrs. Feldstein's hair, I did the same. I inhaled a little, taking in just a bit of her life force. I saw her eyes droop in response.

"I'm a little sleepy, dearie," she said. "Might take a lil nappy."

"You go right ahead, Mrs. Feldstein, and I take care of this for you."

In a few moments, she was asleep.

I finished her shampoo, then started the hot oil treatment. I knew her hair would not take the harsh bleach without repairing it first. She should do this in several visits, but Lara knew a concoction that would work wonders in a matter of hours, instead of days. As Mrs. Feldsteing slumbered, her head resting on her shoulder, I mixed up the different oils into a container, then set it to heat up.

As I was working, I glanced in the mirror. I'd bound Lara's hair up in a tight bun, then put on a lovely blond wig that hung in a bob just to my chin. I'd put on a bit more makeup than usual, with bright pink lipstick and eyelash extensions. I wore a pair of pink glasses without any prescription to complete the disguise, and though it wasn't too bad. No one would guess without Lara's…without my long dark signature hair who I really was.

I worked the oil into my customer's hair and sighed. This wasn't what I wanted to be doing.

It had been an interesting experience sleeping in Lara's body. It was strange, and at the same time, so familiar. I had wicked dreams, and in each one of them, I, as Lara, was having kinky sex in some fashion or another. I didn't hate it, but when I awoke, I had to use Lara's…implements to achieve release. Lara detested having to stop to using implements; she'd much rather find some human toy to bring her release.

I could feel my mind in turn, shifting more. As Harry, I had been a stalwart Guardian of the Light, able to tread on the boundary between what is Light and what is Black but always on the side of Rightousness. While Lara wasn't a monster, she had a carnal need for Lust that she adored, nurtured, and developed over the hundreds of years she'd been alive.

It drove me a little crazy to think of what she might be doing in my body to Murphy. I'd need to check on her later today to make sure she was still okay. Lara had created toys in the past using her skills as a Tantric, and plastic surgery to craft playthings that left little to the imagination. I could only guess what she'd be doing now that she had access to my Thaumaturgy, Alchemy, Evocation, and other wizardly skills.

I also needed to somehow get in touch with the White Council. The second law of magic; Thou shalt not invade the mind of another. And the third law; Thou shalt not enthrall another, had definitely been violated. If I could convince them that Lara had stolen my body, they'd remedy it quickly and efficiently. They'd also probably kill Lara, so I hesitated to get them involved considering Thomas's relationship with her.

I sat Mrs. Feinstein up in the chair and placed a hood over her head. She was still out like a light, thank the Goddess. I turned the dryer on to high and let her sit a few moments while I went out for a smoke.

One of the other stylists, Tricia, was outside smoking as well. She nodded her head to me, as I took out a long cigarette and pulled my mask down.

"God, I hate working in these masks," Tricia said.

"Yes, they really interfere." I sparked the cigarette and held them between my elegant fingers.

"So, how do you like The Cup?" I'd been introduced to the other girls as Tiffany, a contractor from Missouri who would only be in and out for a short time.

I shrugged. "Not bad. Upscale clientele. I hope for good tips."

Tricia smiled. "You're in for a treat. I don't know what Raith does to these women, but they tip like you wouldn't believe. And he always shares his tips with his stylists and doesn't take any himself. Can you believe that?"

I nodded, taking a drag. "I can, actually. I've known Thomas awhile now."

She smiled. "I can see you have. He looks at you differently than the rest of us."

"Oh?"

Tricia smoked. "He smiles at you. Usually, he's a pretty fierce taskmaster if you know what I mean. Ordering us around, directing, commanding, correcting. It's usually like Hell's Kitchen around here, minus the profanity. I don't think Raith knows the word 'fuck' if you know what I mean.

I chuckled at that. "I do."

"So where you from, Tiffany?" She said.

"Oh, I live in Lakeview."

"Ohh, that's gorgeous there. Do you like it?"

I pulled a healthy drag off the cigarette. "Love it."

"I bet!" She smoked some more. "I'm in Hyde Park. Well, not the park itself, but the neighborhood."

"Of course. Lovely there too."

"It's a place," she said. "Say, we're going out for drinks after. You want to join us?"

I was tempted. I really did what to mix in with the group, and Tricia seemed like a nice person. However, I had two things to do that night; visit Murphy, and help Susan.

"Have to raincheck that tonight. I have other plans. Perhaps another night?"

She shrugged. "Sure. It's tough to find a place open now anyway. We usually hang out at Stella's."

Stella's was a small bar down the block from The Cup.

"I'm surprised they're open."

"Mmm, not really 'open' if you catch my meaning. Jessie knows Stella, so she opens up the back door for us."

"Ohh, that's nice," I said, stubbing out the last of my cigarette. "Well, I better get Mrs. Feinsteing's coloring mixed up."

"First day back, and she wants the works," Tricia said. "Sorry, you got stuck with her."

I smiled. "She seems alright. I just hope —" I held out Lara's manicured fingers, rubbing them together.

"Just don't make her too blond. She hates that. She says she wants Butter Scotch, but she really wants Sand Pebble."

"Good to know," I said.

I walked back into the salon and started mixing colors.

At the end of my shift, I said goodbye to the ladies as they walked out the door, leaving Thomas and I standing at the doorway.

"Good group of gals," I said.

"They're awesome."

"You get anything about Susan today?"

He shook his head as he locked the doors to the salon. "Nope, you?"

"No." I followed him out to our cars. I'd driven that day because I wanted to go visit both Susan and Murphy.

"You going to be okay?"

"I think so. As long as 'Harry' plays nice and doesn't try anything."

"Don't throw down with him. You'll lose."

"I know, brother. Don't worry. I just want to see Murphy and make sure she's okay."

"Sounds good."

I got in the car and pulled off my wig. Taking out some makeup removing towelettes, I readjusted my face. My head was itchy from being under the wig all day, and I worried about dandruff from the dry skin (hair disaster!). I used Lara's long fingernails to great purpose, scratching my scalp and re-dressing my long curtain of dark brown locks.

I decided to see Murphy first since the expressway was near our apartment, and I could hop on it and up 295 toward Susan afterward. I drove through the less deserted streets of evening Chicago. It wasn't anywhere near the normal afternoon traffic jams that were a daily occurrence in the large city, so it was a pleasant experience, especially considering the purr of my I8 BMW. I smiled as it responded to my lightest of touches on the accelerator or pump of the brakes. I sure had come a long way from the blue beetle!

I parked in the driveway and stared up at the front door. We hadn't had the place long, and it was still fresh in Harry's memories. I remembered working with a realtor, Murphy having lots of 'requirements' finally finding this place, the diamond in the rough. She'd led the work crew who renovated the old place, holding their feet to the first the entire time. I'd been in awe of her leadership ability, to be able to take command and direct people like that with no backtalk at maybe 5 ft in height.

I walked up to the door. I rang the doorbell.

Harry answered.

It had been awhile since I'd seen "dark Dresden" or my "inner Harry."

It was startling to look up into my own face. It had been a little more than twenty-four hours, but the visage of "Harry" that faced me was much more 'Inner Harry' with a short dark beard, and his hair carefully combed. He wore leather pants and a black linen shirt with boots.

Damn, I looked good. Well, he looked good. It wasn't until that moment that I realized Lara was just a little bit in lust with Harry.

"Hello, Harry," I said.

He smiled. "Lara!" He held up his hand, letting me into the house. "How wonderful of you to stop by!"

"Cut the crap, 'Harry' I'm here to see Murphy."

"Aww," Harry said, plopping down in my favorite chair by the fire. "She's sleeping right now. Is there anything I can do for you? Want some coffee? Tea?" he gave a sly grin. "Me?"

"You just keep those paws where I can see them, Dresden," I said, sitting on the couch. "Maybe you can wake Karrin up? I want to make sure she's okay. Plus, we have…" I gritted my teeth. "Wedding plans."

He grinned at that. "Of course, of course!" He started down the hallway but paused before leaving. "Don't be too surprised when you see her, Lara. We've both had something of a makeover! What do you think of the new me?"

I rolled my eyes. "Just get her, Harry."

He gave me two thumbs up, then went down the hallway.

I looked around the living room. I could distinctly remember furnishing things, together, with Murphy. She'd chosen the furniture, but she let me hang up the Star Wars poster and other items on the wall. I could feel the bite of tears again, as I remembered purchasing the coffee table. We'd searched for hours looking for just the right one. She wanted a Spanish style, with thick scuffed pine and inlaid tile. It was completely against Lara's taste, which was a bit jarring to me.

"Here she is," Harry said, entering the room. With the panache of a stage, magician he opened his arms so Murphy could walk into the room.

"Hi, Lara!" Karrin said as she stopped in the doorway.

My jaw dropped open. "Goddess! What have you done to her?"

I think it was at that moment, I realized. Nothing would ever be the same.