Lamb In Wolf's Clothing free porn video

Lance Wolf and the Zombies of the Apocalypse ACT ONE The smile Lance Wolf shot to his brother Dirk was charming despite the blacked-out teeth. "Come on; let's get a little practice in." "All right." They stopped, and then Dirk lifted his right one leg, swung it forward a foot or two, and then dropped all his weight on it. After pausing for a second, he repeated the process with his left leg. Then the right, and then the left. He turned his head back around to look at Lance, cocking it at an odd angle, but didn't say anything. Lance gave his big brother a thumbs-up before lurching forward in the same way. It took them almost five minutes to make up the distance from the curb to the front porch that way, but they didn't mind. They had been five minutes ahead of schedule, and used a fair amount of it walking up to the door with a gait and speed that matched the zombie make-up (and matching ratty clothes) they were wearing. Lance grunted as he pushed the doorbell. Less than a minute later, the door opened to reveal Lance's girlfriend Misty. Like the guys, she was working a zombie theme for her Halloween costume; unlike them, there was a little more to her costume - she apparently had become a member of the living dead just after cheerleading practice, and not only was her clothing relatively pristine, but she had gone light on the prosthetics. Lance approved; it would be a shame to obscure her pretty face, or her blonde hair, or her perfect legs. Maybe, thought Lance, if I play this right, I'll finally get her out of that little costume tonight. Misty gave her boyfriend a dazzling, toothy smile. "You look disgusting! We'll win the contest for sure!" Lance had no idea how a girl got to the age of twenty-one as squeaky-clean as Misty had, but he was grateful. Even if she didn't put out, he'd never had more fun with a girl than with her. "Zombies, zombies, everywhere. Something must be done!" Misty giggled a little and moved aside so that the brothers could get a better look inside the apartment, where the voice came from. There, they saw the Veronica to Misty's Betty. Dirk's girlfriend Tiffany didn't play coy with her sexuality like Misty, and made her way to the door in high heels, black stockings, a white miniskirt and a top that revealed as much of her generous cleavage as it could without accidentally exposing a nipple. As she sashayed toward the door, she held up an oversized prop syringe. "Well, I guess some sexy scientist will have to find a cure." Dirk pulled his girlfriend toward him and kissed her, slipping his hands underneath the lab coat that completed the costume (along with the glasses and hair in a tight bun) and squeezed her firm bottom. After a couple minutes, Misty coughed politely, and the five-years-older couple separated. "Right, I guess we might want to get this show on the road." Misty quickly ran to get her purse, calling to her other roommate that they were going. By the time she and Lance got to the car, Tiffany had already called shotgun, but that was all right with Lance and Misty. After all, you could do a lot more in the back. * * * Twenty minutes and halfway to the party later, Tiffany looked at the pair in the back seat that had no interest in anything but each other and smiled. "And you said they'd never last." Dirk shrugged. "Lance almost never has any sort of patience. I figured he'd give up when she wouldn't, if you know what I mean." "Maybe there's more to him than meets the eye." "Like there's more to your roommate?" "Nah, she's exactly what she looks like - totally blonde, believes anything I tell her without getting suspicious, knows how to cook, annoyingly perky but her parents have money so she pays the rent on time." "Good deal. It's always nice to not have to worry about people being suspicious." "Yeah. Speaking of... How long's that van been tailing us?" Dirk frowned while adjusting the rear-view mirror to catch less of Lance and Misty making out and more of the road behind him. "It has been for a while, hasn't it? Better give him an opportunity to pass. Get out the map." While Tiffany opened up a big Delorme road atlas, Dirk let his foot come off the accelerator and stuck his hand out the window, motioning the black van to pass. It pulled along side, but as the windows lined up the driver of the other car reached into the briefcase sitting on his passenger seat and withdrew a gun, which he raised to point at Dirk while keeping pace. Seeing that, Dirk didn't hesitate, but slammed on the brakes. The rest of the passengers were jostled at the sudden deceleration, almost as much as by the sound of the shot. As soon as the other car had shot ahead of them, Dirk jerked the wheel to the right, completing a hundred-and-eighty degree turn so quickly that Lance and Misty were knocked to the floor. Lance scrambled back up to the seat, pulling Misty up after him. "What the hell was that?" His brother didn't answer, other than to tell them to put on their seatbelts and stay down. While they quickly obeyed, Tiffany was unbuckling hers and pulling a gun of her own out of the white-with-a- red-cross medical bag that had come with her costume. Misty's eyes went wide. "Why do you have one of THOSE?" "Business." As Dirk accelerated, Tiffany rolled down her window and leaned out, firing several rounds at the other car, which had turned around to pursue them. She ducked back into the vehicle to reload. As old as the other car looked, it had some pickup, and was quickly gaining on the partygoers'. Dirk scanned the road. There were no obvious turn-offs. To the right, there was a fairly sharp drop-off to the smell of salt water; to the other, a notable upward grade. They'd been ambushed well. A glint in the rear-view mirror caught his eye a split- second before the rear window exploded. Misty and Lance screamed; Tiffany took the opportunity to fire a few shots without leaning out of the car. Spider-web patterns appeared on the other vehicles windshield and dents in its hood, but the car didn't even slow down, and was in fact overtaking Dirk's. He wondered what kind of engine was in the thing. Tiffany also noticed it was no normal car. "That thing calls for a rocket." "Under the back seat." Tiffany smiled. "You're the best boyfriend ever." She turned around and told the passengers to stay down while she started to squeeze between the front seats. She pulled the cushion up to reveal a hidden chamber, which contained a Light Anti-tank Weapon. "Oh, the pleasures which civilian life denies a girl." Fortunately, the rear window had been safety glass, so she just had to brush a little out of the way as she stuck her torso out. There were too many cracks in the windshield of the chase car for her to see the other driver's reaction, but it was undoubtedly alarmed - a LAW rocket pointed directly at one tends to have that effect. He surprised her, though, by not breaking but accelerating, ramming into the back of Dirk's car. The jolt tossed her a bit further out the window. "A little help, guys!" Thankfully, Lance was a quick thinker and grabbed one of her legs. He was pulling her in, but she yelled at him to just hang on. Her heart had skipped a beat at being so exposed, but the other driver had pulled into the opposite lane to pass again. She looked at Lance. "Let me get turned around, then you and Misty hold my legs tight! Yell when you've got me so Dirk knows it's okay to hit the brakes!" He nodded and let go, allowing Tiffany to turn over and sit up. With her legs in the car and her body outside, she briefly lamented what the wind was doing to her hair before leaning forward to steady her weapon on the roof. Before the others had a grip on her legs, though, the other driver jerked the wheel to the right, ramming their car and tossing the back- seat passengers. Tiffany grunted and grabbed at the inside of the car with her free hand. That kept her from being thrown by the first impact, but the other driver wasn't finished. He slammed into their car three more times, the last driving Dirk's car through a guard rail. As gravity grabbed hold of the car, it left Tiffany behind before Lance and Misty could grab hold of her. Their shock didn't last long, though, since the car soon collided with a rock outcropping. The hood crumpled, and none of the three remaining in the car escaped the onrushing blackness. * * * The black van pulled up to the spot where the guard rail was destroyed and stopped. The driver's side door opened, and the driver gingerly lowered himself to the ground, leaning heavily on a cane for support. His shaky hands reached into a coat pocket for a pill bottle, and he downed three. He looked at the wreck below and shook his head. This was hardly an ideal situation. "Come out of the van, Chaney." The rear passenger-side door opened, disgorged a passenger, and then closed. The elderly man walked around the car so he could look his assistant in the face. It wasn't a pretty face; what didn't bear the trace of long-ago burns was scarred by acne. There was a Cro-Magnon bulge to the forehead and the jaw had a slight underbite. The body beneath it was tall and strong, though, even if he shuffled a bit as he walked. His hands were big, even for a man of six and a half feet. He dully looked at the older man, awaiting orders. No need to keep him waiting. "See if there's anyone left alive in that wreck, Chaney, and if there is, bring them up here." Chaney wasn't the brightest, but he followed instructions well. "Right away, Doctor Lamb." With little other comment, he made his way down to the car. * * * Dirk winced as he woke up. Everything hurt, and a good portion of that was broken. He tried to move, but felt cuffs on both his wrists and ankles. Opening his eyes, he saw he wasn't the only one bound - both his brother Lance and Lance's girlfriend Misty were in similar positions, shackled to posts with hands above their heads so that their chained feet barely touched the floor. Even in his weakened state, he couldn't help but appreciate the way it made Misty's rack look even more substantial. "Ah, I see we're all awake. Now, let's all co-operate so we can get this done quickly." Dirk's jaw dropped, painfully, as he looked at the wizened man who stood before him. "Thaddeus Lamb? You're still alive?" Lamb gave a little half-bow. "They used to call me the old man at the company, and it would have been very disappointing not to grow into my name, even if doing so is a decidedly mixed blessing." He was leaning on his cane as he made his way toward the prisoners. "As you might imagine, I'm not anxious to spend much time waiting for you co-operate." "You're not going to have much choice in the matter." "Oh, but I do." He reached into another pocket and removed a syringe and a vial of liquid. "I've spent a great deal of time working with the human brain of late. Trust me, after I use this, you will tell me everything I want to know." "There's really such a thing as truth serum?" Lamb turned to Misty and grinned lecherously. "Oh, yes, although most aren't terribly effective against someone as well-trained as Mister Wolf here. Still, this should do the trick. Of course, it has its drawbacks. Once someone is injected with this, they can never lie again. It destroys the synapses that enable this uniquely human ability." He turned back to Dirk. "It would make it hard to live your double life, wouldn't it, mister long-haul trucker?" "You're not really a trucker? Then where do you go for weeks at a time... Oh." Lamb walked over toward the younger Wolf, and sneered. "It's a good cover story, but not that good. You should have caught on a couple years ago." He turned his back on Lance to face Dirk. "So, what will it be...? Speak up now, or speak the truth forever?" "Go to hell!" "Probably." The theatrical thing to do would have been to plunge it in with a mighty blow, but he didn't have the strength, and settled for the humiliating thing - pulling down Dirk's pants and gently injecting his buttocks. Lance watched in quiet horror as Dirk grimaced and groaned. Misty was crying. After about fifteen minutes, Lamb hit Dirk's already-broken leg with his cane. "That hurt, you son of a bitch!" "Yes, well, that's an easy bit of truth to tell, isn't it? How about this - where and when is tonight's handoff scheduled to occur?" "At a party. 325 Mill Road, about 11:30pm." Dirk shook his head. "I didn't want to say that." "Yes, well, it's hard to resist. Who will be giving you the code?" "Not me -- Lance. I'd lift it from him later." Lance looked at his brother, not understanding. "Sorry, buddy. I'm becoming a bit well-known in the community, but you're a bad candidate for recruitment. Too visible." Lamb got a strange look on his face as he turned around and wandered toward Lance. "Yes, I can see where the man projected to go first in the draft might be a bad spy. The media will be all over him - the 'black quarterback' thing." "You like football?" Lamb didn't even look at Misty, fixated as he was on Lance. "What, you expected me to be some German Nazi type who hates all things American and non-Aryan? The last of them are gone." He ran his hands along Lance's firm muscles, his eyebrows (which were about fifty percent of the hair on his head) rising as one passed over Lance's groin. Then, he turned to look at Misty and licked his lips, before returning his attention to Lance. "Things are looking up." "I won't help you!" "He won't, you know - he would have joined the army instead of going to college if mom hadn't laid a massive guilt trip on him. And not only will the contact not give the disc to anyone else, I don't even know what he or she looks like." "I figured as much." He fished in his coat again, this time removing a small remote control. "Fortunately, I've been doing rather a LOT of work with the brain." He casually pressed a button on the control. Lights came on, and Dirk, Lance, and Misty saw they were being held in a large warehouse. Not far away, a large spotlight turned on. Below it was a pair of hospital beds set back from a crowded computer control panel. Above them was where the really impressive sight was: A fat, vertical tube with a spherical bottom and a number of parallel rings, each of which had a multi-jointed arm sticking out, with matching pair having various tools at the end - saws, lasers, cameras, syringes, and some things the prisoners couldn't identify. Chaney, who had been quietly sitting on one of the hospital beds, sheepishly stood and walked to the side. "I don't care if I'm seeing it," Dirk said. "That's impossible." "Looks like it, doesn't it?" Lamb stroked Lance's chest. "Mmm, it's certainly taken me long enough to perfect it. There were times even I thought I wouldn't live long enough to use it. I truly cannot wait to be young--" he squeezed Lance's biceps "--and strong again. It will be truly exciting to be the second person to use this incredible machine." Lance looked down. "Second?" "But of course! You don't think I'd do this without testing it, do you?" He turned to the big man. "Chaney, please put the girl on one of the beds." "Yes, sir." Misty's eyes became saucers. "WHAT? I've got nothing to do with this! I'm no spy!" She tried to punch, kick, and claw as Chaney undid her cuffs, but the big man just shrugged it off. He carried the screaming girl with one beefy arm around her waist, and fastened the bed's restraints around her until she could barely move, though she kept screaming about just being a student, majoring in architecture for Christ's sake, until Chaney finally gagged her and tied her hair back. "Very good, Chaney. You may take the other bed now." Misty had a strap in her mouth, but her scream was almost audible. Lance and Dirk screamed as well, but Lamb ignored them. He walked over to the tables, strapping Chaney into his restraints. "Must keep both parties immobilized, after all." Certain that Chaney was secure, he hobbled over to the control station and hit a switch. Several monitors lit up. Heart function and body temperature normal. Brain functions normal." He chuckled. "Well, at least as close to normal as can be expected for Chaney and a cheerleader." Angry noises came from Misty's general direction. "That's about enough of that." Lamb pressed a pair of buttons, and a small arm emerged from each bed. A laser scanned the forearms of the "patients", and upon locating a vein inserted a catheter. Liquid flowed through the tube, and both bodies went limp. The monitors' beeps slowed down a bit, and Lamb smiled. "Excellent. Brain and heart readings at expected levels. Initiating master sequence." He turned around to look at the Wolfs. "This is going to be really cool." He pushed the panel's largest button, and suddenly all the robot arms dangling from the upper cylinder started going into motion. The first to move were the lasers, which traced a path just below Misty's and Chaney's hairlines. The line showed up on the monitors as soon as the laser was finished tracing. Next up, though, were the saws. New and shiny, they started up, spinning so fast that it was impossible to see the teeth. They were unusually quiet, too perfectly aligned to make any noise from friction. They slowly descended toward Misty's and Chaney's skulls. As they got near, Dirk and Lance closed their eyes and turned their heads away, but there was no hiding the horrible noise as they made contact. A few minutes after the sawing noise stopped, Lance opened one eye, but closed it right away after seeing a pair of shallow baskets at the end of manipulator arms gliding in opposite directions. Each contained a human brain, with the eyes still attached. There was a new series of noises that lasted for another few minutes, and then silence. The brothers opened their eyes again, staring at the beds. It looked almost as if nothing had happened, aside from the stitches that wrapped around the heads and the bloodstains on the sheets. It was terribly quiet for another moment, and then the monitors started beeping again. "Success! Now to see how much of Chaney's meager intellect remains intact." He pushed a button, and a trickle of liquid flowed into Misty's arm. Just moments later, her lovely body started to stir. Lamb waddled over to the bed to undo the restraints. As he did so, the girl sat up, somewhat stiffly, but without a great deal of trouble. The decrepit scientist noted that there didn't seem to be any loss of motor skills. Free of the restraints, Chaney stared at his new hands, with their manicured nails at the end of slender fingers, in something like awe. It didn't take long for those hands to make their way to the chest, where they gave his new breasts a squeeze. "That feels funny." Lance shouted that he was going to kick Chaney's ass for that, as soon as Misty was back in her old body, but Lamb told Chaney to ignore him. He proceeded to ask him a few simple questions - what was two plus two, who was President of the United States, what did he have for breakfast that morning? After a few minutes, Lamb clutched his chest, wincing and declared himself satisfied. Getting Chaney's old body off the bed was a little bit of a hassle - it was something like twice the weight of Misty's, so Chaney and Lamb satisfied themselves with rolling it onto a gurney once it was unstrapped. While Lamb slowly moved a second gurney toward the prisoners, Chaney busied himself with changing the sheets and needles on the beds. Lamb gave Dirk a sarcastic grin. "Just a few minutes in that body, and already he's doing the women's work." Before Dirk could tell the truth about what a terribly sexist attitude that was, Lance interrupted. "I think you'll find I'm a little harder to get into your machine. Misty isn't exactly strong enough to haul me there." "Ah, you foolish boy. Why do you assume that the anesthetic must be administered in the bed?" Just as Lance processed that thought, Lamb stuck him with a needle, and the younger man soon dangled limp. "Chaney! Bring him to the bed." Chaney practically skipped over, but blushed sheepishly when he found that he could no longer reach Lance's handcuffs. "I, uh, think I'm going to need a stool or something." Lamb waved dismissively. "Yes, yes, yes. Just make sure you don't damage him." While Chaney fetched a chair to stand on, Lamb limped over to the bed that had previously held Chaney's body. He winced as he heard Lance's body flop onto the gurney with a thud, but by the time he had hoisted himself onto the bed, Chaney was well on his way to getting Lance strapped into the other. Soon, he was gently applying the restraints to Lamb, even as the old man gave him last minute- instructions. "Remember, the buttons are all labeled in the order that you must press them." With that, Chaney removed Lamb's glasses and gave him the strap to bite on. As Chaney moved to the console, Dirk resolved to watch this time. Chaney looked peculiar poking at buttons with Misty's body and crazy costume, but he seemed to get everything right. Still, all the things Dirk had seen in the Army and after failed to prepare him for the saw cutting into his brother's skull, or the manipulator arms pulling the skullcaps back, snaking in behind the exposed brains to sever the links between the medulla and spinal cord, the eyes falling back in the heads as they remained connected to the brains via the optic nerve. There must have been some nanotechnology in the goop that a pair of tubes squirted - first inside the skull cavity to link the brains with their new bodies, and then again to reseal the heads after the brains had been settled into place. As soon as the vitals for Lance's body returned to normal, Chaney pushed the button for the stimulant and walked over to free Lamb from his restraints. The newly-young man inclined his head to look at his new body, but scowled. "Chaney! Bring me my glasses, and wake him up. We might as well allow the brothers to say good-bye." Chaney complied, with Lamb making sounds of approval as he looked at his new body in a mirror. He couldn't resist undoing the restraints that held his old body, noting how red the face was as Lance tried to sit up. "I'd save your strength, young man" - Lamb chuckled at that - "it looks like you're having a heart attack. I think I got out of that body just in time." As Lance collapsed, Lamb turned to Chaney, ran his hands through the long blonde hair, and smiled. "It looks as if we've both managed to trade up." His eyes caught a glimpse of Chaney's old body on the gurney, and he smiled. "Let's take out some rubbish." He grabbed hold of the gurney and started running, delighted by the newfound strength and speed. Chaney opened a door, and Lamb ran right through, eventually letting go of the gurney and watching it roll away. It rolled for quite some distance - the warehouse was on the waterfront and the gurney traveled to the end of a pier before upending and tipping the body into the drink. Chaney looked a bit alarmed, but Lamb laughed, picking him up and even tossing him in the air. "Trust me; I'll make sure you never miss that old thing. Now," he said, grinning maniacally at Dirk, "we've got a party to go to." As Chaney brightened up, saying he'd never been invited to a party before, Lamb just cackled, and that was the last thing Dirk saw before he finally passed out. ACT TWO The cold water worked as effectively as any chemical stimulant, waking Misty up just as soon as she hit it. She didn't immediately recognize the full extent of her predicament, beyond being cold and wet and not nearly as buoyant as she thought she should be, so she splashed around a little, trying to get her bearings. It was dark, with clouds covering the new moon and most of the stars, but she could see some shapes. The immediate concern was that she seemed to be at the base of some sort of pier at low tide, which meant she'd have to climb to get back onto land if she stayed there. Treading water, she looked around, and saw what looked like waves lapping on a beach a few hundred meters away. There could be something closer, she supposed, but she was pretty sure she could make that, and who knew how much energy she'd expend trying to find another way ashore? Heh, she thought, and people thought I only got those summer jobs as a lifeguard because I looked good in the uniform. Her decision made, she swam toward shore, using quick, powerful strokes that carried her further than she thought they would, not giving much thought to why she was in the water in the first place - after everything else that had happened that night, why shouldn't she be there? Maybe that lunatic Lamb had just tried to dump her body when his whole mad-scientist device didn't work. She'd have time to think of that when she got to shore. That didn't take long, but whatever the machine had injected her with was still in her system, and she flopped onto her back as soon as she'd cleared the water line. She closed her eyes for a second, wanting just to sleep, but figured that wouldn't be a good idea when the tide came in. Groaning, she opened her eyes. ... and did NOT see her bosoms heaving as she breathed heavily, or the bright colors of her Halloween costume. Another jolt of adrenaline shot through her, and by the time she'd grabbed at her flat chest (well, not flat, but its musculature was a far cry from what she'd had before), she'd snapped upright. She looked at her big, hairy hands and then stuck them into her pants, gasping at what she found there. She got up and stumbled back to the water, bringing her face close enough to the surface that she could see a reflection despite the darkness of the night. It was his face, that hulking brute who had been carrying out that creepy old man's orders! His machine had worked, and apparently well enough that they could just throw that beast's old body away, with her in it! Misty started to cry. She didn't understand it. She was a nice person! People liked her! She wasn't mean to anybody; why would somebody try to kill her? Briefly opening her eyes, she saw the ripples where the tears had fallen distorting her new reflection, and thought how silly it looked. Then she thought how silly it was - maybe they'd tried to kill her, but she was big and strong now; she'd make them switch her back! She stood and saw that she was at the bottom of a grade that had dropped steeply toward the water; she'd have to climb a bit. Still, any chance of getting her own body back was up on dry land. Misty hadn't trudged very far when she saw a human form lying on the ground, and she started running when she recognized Tiffany's costume. She was just a bit winded when she reached Tiffany, halfway up the hill (as ugly as this Chaney guy is, Misty thought, he seemed to keep in pretty good shape). The fact that Tiffany was at best unconscious didn't register to Misty as words started spewing out of her mouth: "Oh god I'm so glad to see you I know you don't recognize my voice but it's me Misty and we're in bigger trouble than we thought and I hope you can help us get out of it..." She knelt down beside Tiffany and turned her roommate over, hoping she was just tired and could be woken easily. As soon as she'd done that, though, she let loose a shriek that could easily have come from her own body, because it didn't look like Tiffany would be much help at all - the oversized prop syringe from Tiffany's costume was stuck in her right eye socket. She looked fine, otherwise, but the gruesome injury made Misty scamper back. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't - and a good thing, because if she had, she might not have noticed that Tiffany's chest was still rising and falling. It was slow, and it was shallow, but Tiffany was alive! "HELP!" Misty's new, deeper voice echoed back, but otherwise the area around her was silent. She felt the pockets of the clothes Chaney had been wearing when the transplant had taken place, but there was no phone in there. There was no room for one in Tiffany's costume, and her bag didn't seem to be anywhere to be found. If Misty was going to call an ambulance, it would have to be from up there. Gingerly, she picked Tiffany up and started climbing to the street. * * * Lamb pulled his convertible into the parking space and killed the engine. He had hated bringing his baby out of its garage, but Dirk Wolf's car was clearly no longer usable, and the damage to the van would be difficult to explain. Besides, this took him back to his first youth - the wind in his hair, a beautiful woman at his side, the world ready to conquer. Certainly, the hairstyle was different, the girl had the brain of a bruiser, and even the oldies station was playing something of more recent vintage than the Beach Boys, but then again, when he had been this age the first time, he hadn't had this sort of rush of scientific triumph elevating his spirits. Chaney was about to get out of the passenger's seat to help him out of the car, but Lamb laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think that would appear kind of strange, Chaney. A young man opens the door for his girlfriend, after all." Chaney couldn't help but blush and grin as his employer exited the vehicle, came around to the other side, and offered his hand as he opened the door. The blonde girl daintily stepped out, then let go of Lamb's hand in order to try to adjust the panties Misty had been wearing. An annoyed look appeared on Lamb's new face as he grabbed Chaney's arm and gently pulled it from the skirt. "Do you think the old Melissa would do that?" Chaney bowed his head in shame. "No." "Of course she wouldn't. Remember, from now on, you are Melissa Murphy. Try to act like it. Smile, be pretty, and don?t do anything a real woman wouldn't. And remember, I'm your boyfriend, Lance Wolf. Don't call me 'Doctor Lamb'." "I understand, Doctor L-- Doctor WOLF." Lamb sighed. "I think you should just call me Lance. And don't drink much alcohol - not only might it make you slip up, but our brains are still in a somewhat vulnerable state. Now" - he grasped Chaney's dainty new hand - "let's go mingle." Chaney's face lit up. He had to half run to keep up with Lamb holding his hand, but it was worth it to get into a real party! * * * The knees to Chaney's original body were quivering, but not because they were tired from carrying Tiffany. The physical work was the easy part - it was what Misty had to carry her past that made her quake. Dirk's wrecked car was near the top of the hill, just past a broken guard rail, and skid marks that told the tale of a high-speed chase. The road was improbably silent, but Misty followed it until she saw the black van that had run them off the road, parked in front of one of several empty warehouses on abandoned piers. Trying not to disturb the limp mass of Tiffany too much, Misty took a deep breath and tried to open the door. Locked. She was about to try the next one, when she saw one of those ports for fingerprint scanning. She looked at her beefy new hands, and figured it was worth a shot. Misty pressed a thumb against the pad and was still kind of surprised when the door opened for her. She stepped in cautiously, not calling out even though the loud noise of the doors had surely announced her presence. She seemed to be too late, though - the only occupants were Dirk, hanging limply from his post, and the old guy, although he didn't look like he was in good shape - and if the scar on his forehead meant the same thing as the one she saw in her new reflection, it was probably someone else in there. Just by chance, she was standing near the big machine, and the empty hospital bed seemed as good a place as any to put Tiffany down while she tried to find a phone. Misty laid her friend down as gently as she could, but jumped back a little when the readouts above the bed suddenly lit up and started beeping. Or one did. The heart rate had the familiar spikes from watching TV, but the other one, which measured brain activity, remained stubbornly flat. It dawned on Misty that Tiffany was not going to wake up and help her out of this fix. "Damn it." She started to sniffle. "Damn it, you can't do that to me - you can't suddenly turn all Amazon superwoman on me and then just be gone even though you're still breathing. It's not FAIR." She was starting to cry some more when she heard something. It repeated, and then she realized what it was - Dirk was saying her name. Ashamed at forgetting about him, she ran over to where he hung. "Where are the keys so I can get you down?" "No time." Dirk was just gasping out words. "I think... I think thinking is hard. Think Lamb's serum eventually kills all brain cells." Misty's jaw dropped. "No, not you too!" "No time... for whining. Have to stop Lamb. If he gets that disc..." Misty remembered what Dirk had said about Lance being passed some kind of code at the party. "What should I do?" "Find... him. Get... disk." His speech was getting more labored by the second, but then he chuckled. "Heh. Misty, of all people. We're so screwed." And then he stopped moving, his eyes staring blankly ahead. "No!" Misty mewled. Sure, Dirk had spent his last moments being a jerk, but he at least seemed to know what he was doing. How was she supposed to stop some mad scientist all alone? She sat on the floor, feeling sorry for herself, when the beeping in the background suddenly changed to a steady whine; she looked up to see that Lamb's body had flatlined. Dropping her head to start to cry again, she saw that there was an emergency defibrillator attached to each hospital bed. No, she said to herself. Not all alone. * * * "Your zombie makeup is amazing! How did you do it?" Chaney bit his lip, saying it was no big deal, and she had looked REALLY ugly earlier. "I find that hard to believe." Chaney giggled; if this boy knew what he had looked like at first, he'd have run away screaming, but instead, he was one of a half-dozen trying to give her drinks and get her to talk. A lot of them wanted to talk about stuff involving classes and teachers and the like, but Chaney just said it was a party and he didn't want to talk about that, and most of them said "she" had the right idea. Even more tried to give him drinks, but he just said that he was driving and most of them lay off. It was so exciting! Even when he was a teenager, folks had always made fun of how he looked, and now everybody wanted to be near him! Some of them, especially the ones who drank the beers that they brought for him, were kind of grabby, but none really seemed dangerous. Besides, being touched was so much fun! The music on the loudspeakers changed, and the folks around him started dancing. He looked up to see "Lance" talking to some other guys about football, looking like he wanted to get away, so he walked over and grabbed him by the hand. "Let's dance!" "We're not here to dance, 'Misty'--" "Come on, you said we had to act natural. Everyone says you coming in with me and that just hovering by the punchbowl is not natural." Lamb had to admit that his assistant had a point, and the hormones attacking his brain five times as hard as they had in decades certainly made him want to do that. "Okay, just a little while. We're still on a mission, though." "Yay!" Chaney jumped up in the air and started tossing his hair, shaking his body, and rubbing up against Lamb like he'd seen the "other" girls doing. At first he seemed a little embarrassed - his last party had probably been in the fifties - but after a while he got into it a bit and started dancing along. Sure, other partygoers may have commented that it was the lamest they'd ever seen Lance Wolf or any brother dance in a long time, but Lamb really didn't care. * * * "Does THAT gun have any bullets in it?" "How the hell should I know? I've never fired one of these things! Hell, it could have the safety on and I wouldn't know. Besides, it's not like we're going to shoot them, anyway." Misty sighed. "No, I guess we're probably not. It'd be nice to be able to threaten them, though. And - HEY, KEEP YOUR MIND ON THE WEAPONS!" Lance swallowed. "Sorry." He'd been feeling up Tiffany's body again. He couldn't help himself; every time he looked down to pick up one of the half-dozen weapons they'd scavenged from Dirk's car, he was looking right down Tiffany's impressive cleavage, and it was a major turn-on. "Why'd you put me in her, instead of Dirk, anyway?" "Did you see how Dirk's legs were bent? Besides, what if the stuff that guy injected him with was still in his bloodstream and started to attack your brain? Trust me; you do NOT want to go that way!" Lance took her word for it. "I suppose it's possible they never got a good look at Tiffany, anyway. Maybe I can use my new feminine wiles to lure this Lamb guy somewhere so you can search him." "Why, because he's got your body and you'd let yourself be seduced by Tiffany? Is that it?" Lance put a hand on Misty's shoulder. It felt insubstantial; normally he was bigger than Misty and could envelop her, protect her. Touching her this way made him feel like he couldn't do much. "No, beautiful, no. I'm just saying he's old, and kind of a recluse, so it's been a while. He probably wouldn't discriminate even though I've only got eyes for you." That mollified Misty a little, so she set her jaw and brought her attention fully back to the road. * * * Chaney was in the middle of the room, chattering away with anyone who came near him. Lamb didn't really know what he had to chatter about - after all, he'd had little life of his own since Lamb had taken him on as an assistant five years ago. But then, since when did young girls ever need a subject to run their mouths on. Heh. It was frightfully easy to take Chaney at face value. Lamb supposed that if his contact was spooked by Dirk not being at the party, Chaney might just be tempted to take over Melissa Murphy's life and no-one would be the wiser. And why not? As pretty as she was, she was destined for an insignificant life, much like Chaney. It would be trading one anonymous existence for a somewhat more pleasant one. That would not be his fate, though. Thaddeus Lamb was destined for greatness, and though he had already achieved some measure of it - how many others could manage such feats of science and engineering, without the patronage of a university, government, or corporation? There would be more. The world would know his name, and they would respect it, paying him the proper deference that his intellect deserved! Just as Lamb was thinking that, some clod bumped into him. Even transplanted into the body of a handsome football star, he wasn't given the proper defense. Why, that-- Lamb paused. The torn-up shirt Lance had been wearing as part of his costume had pockets, but they had been empty. Now, there was something in one of them. Casually, so that no-one else at the party would take particular note, he slipped his hand inside. There was definitely something new there - small, just a centimeter or two wide, maybe four long, and one thick. There was a cap on the end; Lamb removed it by feel, and touched the USB connector underneath. A hard drive, then - a tiny hard drive that nevertheless contained all the software he would need to complete his work. Now that he had that, there was no need to stay at this silly gathering. He strode across the room to Chaney, grabbing his wrist. "Time to go." "But it's barely even midnight! Aren't you having fun?" "Oh, yes. But the real fun, you remember, comes later." The girls who had been hanging around with Chaney made boisterous ooh- ing noises, which sort of puzzled him. What did he think they were going to do that was more fun than hanging out and dancing here? This had certainly been the highlight of the year! But, the doctor seemed insistent, so he let himself be pulled away. They'd almost gotten to the door when Chaney remembered their coats, and though Lamb was content to leave them, Chaney pouted and said it would be chilly in the convertible. He followed his assistant to the bedroom where the various jackets had been thrown. Chaney checked the closet, but couldn't find the one he'd come in, and then noticed a pile on the floor. He bent over to start rooting through them. The sensation which that sight elicited surprised Lamb; it had been a long time since he'd felt it. But, of course, what better way to capitalize on his newly stolen youth? "Stay right there, Chaney." "Why? Is there a spider?" Chaney hated spiders. Any sign of a cobweb in the warehouse and he was attacking it with a broom. "No, not a spider." Still, Lamb approached his assistant's outthrust bottom slowly, making no noise as he unbuckled his belt, slipped the button on his trousers back through its hole, and slowly pulled the zipper down. He could see his new manhood tenting the boxers he was wearing, and smiled wickedly as he pulled them down. At least in this case, one of the things he and the other boys had whispered about black men was true. Chaney didn't react as his boss lifted the back of his skirt, but when he pulled down the panties, that was a little more alarming. "What are you doing?" "Something I don't think either of us has done in a long time." Lamb reached around to fondle Chaney's breasts, which were incredible. Chaney moaned a little, and then a little more when the doctor leaned over and kissed his neck. Chaney couldn't remember the last time he'd been kissed. He turned his head to return the favor, but instead of kissing Lamb's cheek, the doctor intercepted him and kissed his mouth. Chaney's eyes went wide, especially as the doctor's hands found his way underneath the costume's top and started stroking his breast without a layer of fabric in between, even slipping fingers underneath the bra to tweak his nipples. That was incredible; Chaney felt the need to grab a bedpost for support. He felt his new girl-parts getting wet, and just as he thought he should probably do something about that before he made a mess of the floor, he felt the tip of Lamb's penis touch his vaginal lips. "What are you--?" "Just part of having these new bodies. It's the 'real fun' they were talking about out there." "Oh. OK. Just --aaaah!" It felt like an electric shock when the doctor pushed his new member into him from behind. Good, but also... "It hurts!" "That just means Melissa was a virgin. I'm told it gets much better." Lamb thrust several more times, letting go of Chaney's breasts and instead grabbing his shoulders to afford a better hold as he drove his new manhood home. Then, just as Chaney was starting to get the hang of it, Lamb came, releasing his seed in one quick burst. Satisfied, he let go of his assistant and pulled out. While Chaney fell to his knees, Lamb tucked his rapidly deflating member back into his underwear and zipped his pants back up. He looked at the girl on the floor - for how could he ever think of Chaney as a man again? - and allowed himself a cold smile. She'd been playing the part of someone he considered an equal entirely too enthusiastically; it was good to see her in the sort of meek posture where she belonged. He spotted the coat he'd been wearing when he came and leaned over to pick it up, bringing his face close to hers. "Get your underwear on and follow me. We've still got work to do." Lamb couldn't help but be amused by the expression on Chaney's face - feeling she'd missed out on something but not quite what. Chaney nodded and reached back to pull her panties up. She was still searching for her coat as Lamb walked out. * * * It was a bit easier to find a parking space just after midnight, although the van they had taken from Lamb's warehouse (the same one that had run them off the road hours earlier) was a pain for Misty to parallel-park. They finally managed it, though a little farther from the party than Lamb's convertible. Not that they knew which car was his. Misty pulled the key from the ignition as Lance gingerly lowered his feet to the sidewalk. He took a couple of experimental steps - he'd been sort of out of it when he'd first awakened in Tiffany's body - two brain transplants within a matter of hours with a heart attack in between can take a lot out of someone - so Misty had carried him to the van. This was his first shot at walking in Tiffany's four-inch heels, and he wasn't liking it at all. Misty snorted as he almost fell over. "Are those the feminine wiles you're intending to distract our mad scientist with?" Lance undid a couple more buttons. "Guess I'll have to go with these." He took another couple steps, trying to embrace the sway of his hips rather than fight it. "I'm an athlete, damn it," he mumbled under his breath, "It?s just balance and movement, same as avoiding a blitz." "Just step lightly, like you're tiptoe-ing. Right now, you're trying to drive your foot through the shoe." After another try, Lance seemed to have the hang of it. He wasn't going to be dancing, but he could get across the length of a room without looking at his feet, or so they hoped. Misty smoothed out Lance's hair, and applied a little of the lipstick from the bag that had landed ten feet from where she'd found Tiffany's body. Tiffany wouldn't likely go out like that, but she was a perfectionist. They walked toward the party, with Misty stopping once the house was in sight. "Okay, I'm going to hide out in these shadows. Try and bring them this way..." "...but if they can't, act drunk and make a bunch of noise so you know they're parked in the other direction. I've got it." Lance didn't quite have the confidence to back that claim up, but he'd have to make do. He straightened his top, took a deep breath, and walked to the house. He'd been afraid that the steps would be a challenge, but they were easy; he didn't have to worry about the heels there. He walked through the door and immediately felt a bit overwhelmed; he was used to standing taller than average and looking over the crowd; here, he was shorter than most of the guys even in Tiffany's high heels - and most of the girls had costumes that involved heels, too. The way the men stared at his chest was a little unnerving, but he figured he had opened those buttons himself. He tilted his head back, trying to see over the crowd. That someone was asking if he could get "her" a drink barely registered, nor did the rest of the party. He idly thought he would have enjoyed it under the original circumstances, but now it was just so much noise and people moving around while he tried to get a glimpse of-- There. He'd almost passed him by, just because his brain rejected the idea of his body being over there, but there was Doctor Lamb, by the hallway, looking impatient. Lance took a breath, checked his breasts (yep, there and big and inviting), and started walking directly across the room. One foot directly in front of the other, like he was on a balance beam. He was just five feet away from Lamb before the body thief seemed to notice him, but once he did, his eyes locked onto Tiffany's body like the rest of the world didn't exist. "Aren't you Lance Wolf? You were so good in last week's game against Trent!" Lamb smiled. "Was I now? I think I had a little room for improvement. I made a few... mental mistakes." Like hell I did, Lance thought. "I didn't see much room for improvement." Lance licked his lips a little; he always found that sexy. "Oh? You don't look like a particular expert on football." Lance started to sweat a little more. Was that supposed to mean he's seen through the ruse, or was it just the hoped-for flirting? "Oh, I'm a big fan. You could almost say..." On second thought, best not to say clever things like "it's my life" that might work as hints. "Well, just say I'm a big fan of the players--" He slid a hand down his old chest, then tantalizingly placed it on his new one. "--and leave it at that." Seemingly despite himself, Lamb smiled. "Are you now?" "Oh yes." He looked up and saw Misty - no, Chaney - emerging from one of the bedrooms and heading their way. "So tell me, Lance Wolf - are you a player?" He was about to answer when Chaney reached them, looking annoyed. "Who's this?" "Just a fan. I have fans, you know." Chaney didn't seem impressed. "You SAID we were in a hurry!" "Of course." He turned to Lance. "Some other time, Miss." Chaney wrinkled her nose, grabbed Lamb's hand, and led him to the door. Lance quickly followed. "I know about another party," he said. Chaney didn't even turn around. "We have other plans." They were out the door, but Lance followed. The front steps were a little trickier going down. "What other plans? Can anyone come?" "No!" Crap; they were heading in the other direction. "Come on, don't go AWAY!" He grabbed at Lamb's sleeve, trying to stall him long enough for Misty to get there. The jerk made Lamb stutter-step a little, causing the hard drive to drop out of his pocket. Lance went to a knee and reached for it. "What's this?" Lamb reached his hand out and grabbed Lance's wrist. "Just... something I need for biology class." Behind Lamb, Chaney gasped. "It's... it's..." Lamb glanced up and saw Misty in Chaney's body making her way down the street. He grabbed the hard drive and then took a look at the girl in front of him. "You... You shot at me." Lance reached into the bag with his left hand and pulled out a small gun, which he pointed at Lamb. "Good idea." Lamb's heart skipped a beat for a moment, but his face was just inches away from Lance's, and now that he looked, he could see the scars that his machine left. He chuckled. "No, I don't think there's a chance in hell that you do that. You want my body." "My body." "Not anymore." Certain Lance wouldn't fire, Lamb yanked on his wrist, twisting Lance around and making him drop the weapon. Lance winced at the pain as his new arm was twisted behind his back. Lamb wrapped his other arm around Lance's neck so that Lance could feel the bulk of his old arm muscles against his throat. Even with the four inch heels, only Lance's toes were touching the ground. "Tell your boyfriend to back off." "Girlfriend." "Accept reality, kid; otherwise I'll break your pretty new neck. You're inconvenient enough as it is. Now, tell your boyfriend to back off." Lance grunted. "What makes you so sure I care about living it has to be like this anyway?" He felt the grip on his neck loosen a bit, and deciding he didn't need any dignity anyway, Lance screamed. The rest of the street fell silent, and people came to windows to see what was going on. Misty started running. Seeing how the situation could get very bad, very quickly, Lamb shoved Lance at the onrushing Misty, and while the two of them were tangled up, turned and ran, with Chaney right on his heels. As soon as Lance was steady on his feet, he turned around to see Lamb and Chaney getting into their convertible. "We've got to catch them." Misty nodded and started back toward their stolen van. Lance followed, but running in Tiffany's shoes was even harder than just walking, and every step seemed more erratic until he caught a heel in some sort of sewer grating. He flopped forward, wincing as his breasts took much of the impact but bracing himself enough with his arms to avoid messing up Tiffany's face. Misty looked back, but Lance motioned with an arm to keep running. He was in pain as he slowly sat up, and by the time he was back on his feet, Misty had pulled up with the van. She leaned over to open the door for Lance, and offer a hand to help him into the car. "You okay?" "Fine. Damn it, why'd Tiffany have to wear heels while you wore sneakers on top of everything else tonight?" "It has been a lousy frickin' night, hasn't it?" She reminded Lance to buckle his seat belt and pressed the accelerator. As they'd discovered when they had been chased by the van, it was deceptively fast. Lance grunted a comment about hoping he'd left the convertible with a stock engine, and it looked like that may have been the case. Of course, they couldn't exactly try and run Lamb and Chaney off the road, but they figured the others had to stop sometime, if only at the warehouse. Surprisingly, though, Lamb turned off the route to the warehouse, prompting Lance and Misty to give each other quick, panicked looks. They quickly turned to follow, laying down some rubber on the unexpected turn. They'd barely straightened out when they saw Chaney turn around and throw something in the air. Thinking it might be a grenade or something, Misty swerved to avoid it, going off the road and into a tree. This time, at least, there were airbags that inflated as the front of the vehicle crumpled. The convertible carrying Lamb and Chaney sped off while the traveler's coffee mug which Chaney had thrown landed harmlessly. Lance and Misty looked on in shock as their real bodies drove off in some unknown direction * * * Half an hour later, Lamb pulled into a spot near his warehouse. After using his phone to check his various surveillance cameras to assure himself that their bodies' original owners hadn't called the authorities to set a trap, he entered a sequence to remotely open the door so he could drive in. He walked past the corpses of Dirk Wolf and his own original body without batting an eye, though Chaney appeared a little apprehensive. Once he reached the far wall, he pulled an old-fashioned contact switch. As impressive as the machine to exchange two human brains was, the hum of power that came from the device behind it made anyone who heard it shudder. He smiled, though Chaney didn't. Now, the night's real work could begin. END OF ACT TWO ACT THREE Lance closed Tiffany's cell phone. "The tow truck will be here in about half an hour; I guess it's a busy night." "Okay." They were sitting on the middle bench seat of the van, not wanting to be out in the chill or stuck behind the partially-deflated airbags. Misty dabbed at a tear, but there were more behind it. "Hey, don't cry. We're all right. We'll get through this. We're going to be O.K." "But what if we don't? What if we're stuck like this? You'll hate me, and so will everybody else." "What? That's crazy!" Lance put his hands on Misty's face and turned it so that they were facing each other. "You saved my life, Misty. I can't imagine thinking as fast as you did to put restart that heart so you could my brain in here. How could I possibly hate you? "And we will get our real bodies back. We'll find out who Dirk and Tiffany really worked for and make them believe us so that they'll catch this guy and put things right. And when they do, because of everything you've done tonight, everyone will know you're not just a pretty face. They'll know you're just as amazing as I know you are." "But what if we DON'T?" "In that extremely, extremely, extremely unlikely event, I'll still love you." He leaned in and kissed Misty on the mouth. "See? Nothing important's changed." "You wouldn't have a problem with this? Kissing another guy?" Lance gave her a toothy grin. It was his grin, not as wide as Tiffany's usual one, but it still worked pretty well on her face. "I'd be okay with it even if only one of us could change back." Misty half-smiled, though it didn't look like she really meant it. "You don't have to say that." "It's the truth." He kissed her again, moving to sit on her knees and wrapping his arms around her. "I can't imagine wanting anything or anyone more than I want you." Misty stopped crying and wrapped her arms around Lance. She pulled him close and kissed him back; they held each other for a time until Lance could feel something stirring in Misty's pants. Misty started to pull back, but Lance pulled her closer. "It's okay," he whispered. He adjusted his seating, and Misty moved in response, until finally she was laid out on the seat. Lance shivered as Misty ran her hands along Tiffany's body, removing the lab coat so that Misty could fondle his breasts. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He slowly unzipped Misty's fly, half-hoping she'd say to stop but also unable to resist his own curiosity. He was a little taken aback by the erection - does it always look that big from this point of view? - but soon had his own panties down, and taking a deep breath, gently lowered himself onto the organ. Lance and Misty held each other tight, coupling with quiet intensity until they both came. Afterward, Lance lay on top of her, and they just stared into each other's eyes, where they could see the person that the other had been before all the craziness. They almost fell asleep in each other's arms; it was just the arrival of the truck which would tow the van back to the city which kept that from happening. * * * It had been years since Lamb had felt so good following an all-night session. Certainly, as he'd grown older, he'd needed less sleep, but he still didn't have very much energy. Despite his mind being sharp, everything seemed to take more effort than it should. Now, though, he felt like he could go another whole twenty-four hours before falling. Good thing, too; as well as things had gone, his plan had been one made by an old man - someone who didn't have much time, and who had perhaps been overly sentimental about his old body. He'd had some silly idea of harvesting DNA for in vitro fertilization or even cloning, but instead, he had to worry about people who should be dead. Still, that had just meant he had to move a little bit faster; it never was going to take long for the Agency to realize that the code had been intercepted, so it had been vital for most of the work to be completed before acquiring it. And it had been. In theory, he should have been able to start as soon as he had arrived back at the warehouse, but he'd lived long enough to know that installing a new component into a computer system never went smoothly. It was ready now, though. He looked around the control room, with its screens all active, every diagnostic run, and every preparation made. It was shaping up to be an exciting day. Chaney didn't seem quite so excited. Even before she opened her mouth, Lamb knew that she would try to find a way to back out. Lamb didn't even listen to her words. "Remember, Chaney, you made a promise - that as soon as we had acquired the code needed for a direct interface between the human brain and a mechanical system, you would be the first to use it. Now is that time." Chaney fidgeted in that chair. "Don't you maybe want to use someone else? What if I let you down?" "Dear girl, you can't. This system isn't designed to use your brain to do advanced mathematics, but to do the things even the simplest human brain can control almost without conscious thought. Your ability to take direction well, in fact, makes you ideal. Now, we're ready to begin." Chaney was tense, but sat up straight in her chair. Lamb carefully wrapped a headband around her forehead, which sent a number of readings to his monitors. As he had ordered, Chaney had tied his hair in a ponytail, so there was nothing in the way as he dabbed some alcohol on her neck. With the push of a button, dozens of small needles game out of the neck rest and pierced Chaney's skin, connecting him to the rest of the system. Instantly, new screens lit up with information. It was almost too much for Lamb to follow alone, but having designed the system, he that the middle screen in front of the large window had all the most important information for all but emergency situations. "Very good," he said. "Now attempt to stand up." Chaney's stolen body didn't move, but everything else did. Looking out the window, Lamb saw the interior of the warehouse appear to drop, though he knew that he, in fact, was rising like a man in a Ferris wheel. "Excellent. Now take us to the door." Lamb's ride was not completely smooth, but that it was moving at all was enough. "Good. Now take us outside." Another success! Through the main window, Lamb could see a large mechanical arm reach forward, with the four-fingered hand on the end grasping the bar that held the tall warehouse door closed. Setting that aside, a second arm joined the first, pushing the double doors open. Then the forward motion began. If anybody had been working at these abandoned docks, they would have been the first to see an astonishing sight as a thirty-meter tall figure exited the warehouse. It mostly had the shape of a man, though its body was made of solid, thick metal. A gridlike network covered its surface, sending tactile data back to the brain in control. Tubes which had to be weapons were attached to the arms, while others were mounted on the hips, shoulders and even atop the flattened, featureless head like a lethal beanie. Recesses led from the groin to the chest like a ladder, and that chest featured a large portal of bullet-proof glass so that Lamb could be seen sitting near where this gigantic mechanical man's heart would be. He smiled. "Let's go to town." * * * With the sun rising, Lance and Misty wandered the quiet streets. They'd gotten a tow into the city, but felt no need to stick around the garage; after all, it wasn't really their car. They'd called the state police with an anonymous tip that two dead bodies and some illicit medical experiments could be found at a certain downtown warehouse, but figured it would probably be best not to actually show up in person until Lamb and Chaney were in custody. They'd actually caught a few hours of sleep on a park bench without trying as just how draining the night had been hit them. They weren't quite sure what they were going to do next. They were walking in the general direction of the bus station, figuring to take the hour-long ride "home" and then... well, they didn't know what they'd do then. Maybe try and convince the school that they weren't who they appeared to be, or wait for whoever Dirk worked for to contact them, or something. After half a mile or so, Lance saw a diner opening and realized he was hungry. He pointed it out to Misty, who shrugged, and they went in. The girl at the counter gave them an odd look, but pulled out a pad. "What can I get ya?" Misty stepped up and looked at the old-fashioned placards above the counter. "Hi. I know it's not up there, but could I get an egg white om..." As she brought her gaze down to look at the counter girl, she saw that the wall was mirrored, to give an impression of the place being bigger than it was, and caught a glimpse of her Chaney-face in it. She cringed inwardly, but also realized that this body, at least, wasn't going to be worried about looking good in a sports bra any time soon. "You know what? Screw that. I'd like a tall stack of chocolate chip pancakes, with real butter and maple syrup. And bacon. I want a lot of bacon. And, oh my god, home fries. Give me some home fries. And coffee, with whole milk - no, cream! - and none of that decaf shit!" The girl finished writing that down, and looked up at Lance. "And you?" "I, uh..." Lance couldn't help but put his hand on the belly he'd inherited from Tiffany, wondering just how much it could hold. "I think I'll go with a poached egg and toast, please. And some orange juice." The girl nodded, passed the note through a window to the kitchen, and divided her attention between the customers and the morning crossword as Lance and Misty seated themselves in a booth. Lance looked around the restaurant, which looked close enough to a genuine Worcester Diner to his inexpert eye to seem ancient. He sighed. "I've got to call mom." Misty reached out to take Lance's hand into hers. "Oh, God, you're right. With everything that's happened tonight, I almost... I'm so sorry." "Yeah... What do I tell her? 'Hi, your oldest son wasn't a long-haul trucker but some sort of spy, only Blofeld killed him and by the way, I'm not his girlfriend but your other son in her body!' Honestly, I wonder if the only thing that keeps me from completely breaking down is that as weird as last night was, I think he mi