Angela's mouth dropped open, and Drew smirked at her.

Yeah, I've got useful powers, like being pretty, and she's got useless ones, like summoning anything she wants, any time she wants.

Shaking her head at the irony, Drew left the others staring at Angela. If her friend warped time and space itself so she could take a look at herself, she really ought to oblige her. She sauntered over to the mirror and froze. She stared at the creature before her, unable to do move, to speak, to think coherently.

I ought to get my bangs trimmed.

With that single errant thought she lost herself in memory.

***

"You need a new style, Drew."

Two young women sat in the waiting area of the salon. One, her Kate Jackson hairdo grown shaggy at the ends, shook her head, denying her Asian friend's charge.

"This haircut is classic."

"Hon, that haircut was classic in the eighties. It was retro in the nineties. It needs to go."

The one the Asian called Drew growled her reply, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. The other one ignored her, continuing to leaf through the style books, looking for her friend's 'new look'. After an increasingly rapid search, she turned to the hairstylist behind the reception desk.

"Do you have any magazines or books with Angie Harmon or someone like her modeling?"

"Why are you asking about Angie Harmon, Jesse?"

"Because you look a little bit like her."

Drew stared at Jesse, mouthing incredulous profanity for a few moments. "Jess, the only way I'd look anything like Harmon is if she had breast reduction surgery and they packed the extra on her butt."

"Drew, you can't..."

"And after they were done with inflate-a-butt, they'd need to dye her hair mud-mouse brown..."

"Yeah, but she's..."

Despite Jesse's attempts to interrupt, her friend spoke right over her. "To top it off, you'd have to hit her across the nose with a baseball bat a few times. Oh, and her voice is fantastic, too."

The hairstylist hadn't been listening for the past couple comments. Initially, she'd been as skeptical as Drew about the comparison, but as Drew listed out her reasons, one coming methodically after the other, she began to see the similarity. The way she moved, the way she spoke, both reminded the stylist of the characters Harmon played, and that called out the little similarities in bone structure, although those had been damaged by the aforementioned broken nose.

"Actually, ma'am, I see what your friend is saying." She walked back to the hair dryers, and started fishing in the magazine racks. "I know I had a couple of them here. Ah, here they are!" She walked the magazines back up to where Jesse waited, flipping through one of them as she did. "Take a look at this one; she's gotten in shape for some new role, and I think the style she's wearing would really work with your friend's, sty..." She glanced at Drew's outfit for the first time. A threadbare tee shirt, ratty old sweatpants, and a pair of worn canvas sneakers didn't count as 'style', or a look. "I meant to say, really work with your friend's bone structure."

***

Drew blinked, and the vision of the past disappeared. She'd expected to see herself, maybe with a little better curves, but a vision of perfection stared back at her from the mirror. Perfect cheekbones; narrow, unbroken nose; faintly almond shaped eyes; high, arched brows; and a broad, flawless smile all made up a face which reminded her of herself, but... The woman in the mirror drew the eye the way Drew never had in her life. She could totally pull off the vagabond look if she wanted to, but the body and face the dust gave her screamed for evening wear, or suits, or...

Leather. She needed leather.

"Drew! If you're done starin' at yourself, Angie's in trouble!"

Steve's acerbic comment snapped Drew out of her fugue. He crouched next to Angela. She knelt on the floor, head in her hands, a low keening forcing its way through her clenched lips. A quick glance showed Jesse out cold, but breathing, with Charlie and Sergeant Maliss working together to shift her gently to a gurney they'd wheeled in from the hall. With both Angela and Jesse out of action, they had no one trained in anything more than basic first aid.

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"Steve, go get a doctor. I'll stay with her."

"Why me?"

"You won't have to deal with idiots flirting with you."

Steve shot her a look, rolled his eyes, and stood. "Figured it out, did you?"

"Yeah." Something about the flashback teased at her, but she couldn't figure out what. "Just go."

"I'm already gone."

With that he jogged away down the corridor. Drew knelt next to Angela and tried to get a look into her eyes, but she had them clenched shut as tight as her jaw. Sucking air through her teeth, Drew grabbed Angela by the back of the neck and used her other hand to force one of her eyes open. The pupil obscured the iris almost completely.

That's bad. I have no idea what it means, but it's bad.

"Sergeant, do you have any medical experience?"

"No, ma'am, and not much more first aid than how to stop someone from bleeding out."

Before Drew could reply, Angela started to grunt and pant, forcing an 'mmm' sound over and over, rocking as she did. Glowing blue fluid dripped from her nose, stained her lips. "Mirr..."

"Mirror?"

"Uh huh. Mirr'r. I..." Angela's eyes rolled back in her head for a second, and she fell backward. Drew lunged and caught her before she hit her head. When her friend opened her eyes again, a broad smile stretched across her face.

"You caught me! Thank you, Drew! I know I can always count on you!"

"That's right, Angela. What about the mirror, Angela?"

Angela smiled. "What mirror, silly? There aren't any mirrors in here. The one on the wall showed me bad things, and I got angry, so I hit it, so it's not really a mirror anymore." Her eyes shot wide, and her smile slipped. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

"No, you're not, but what about the mirror you summoned?"

"Don't be silly, I can't summon mirrors!"

"What about that one?" Drew pointed.

Angela twisted around until she saw the huge mirror leaning against the wall. The moment she found it, she started stuttering, "Mmm... Mirr..."

"Oh, shit. It's okay, Angela! The mirror's not important! Ignore the mirror!"

Another line of blue leaked from Angela's nose, slid down the side of her face to her ear. Her whole body convulsed, and one flailing arm caught Drew's chin. The force of the blow spun her completely around, and static filled her vision for an uncounted series of heartbeats spent in a panicked scramble for consciousness.

When Drew could see again, Angela lay sprawled on the floor of the break room, staring guilelessly at the mirror. Soft cooing noises filtered through the ringing in Drew's ears. She crawled over to her friend, but Angela didn't respond. "Angela, you still in there?"

In answer, Angela's gaze wandered from the mirror to Drew. Her smile widened into a broad grin, and her hand lashed out, almost faster than Drew could see. Drew clenched her teeth to keep from screaming as Angela squeezed her ear in a grip like a vise. Then Angela yanked her down, and wet spit filled Drew's ear.

"Guh. That's really gross. Also, ow."

"G'oss. Ow." More giggles.

"Okay, Sergeant, Angela has officially lost it. I'm going to hope she'll come out of it like she did earlier if we can keep her safe, but that's going to be difficult."

"Why's that, ma'am?"

"Because I'm squeezing the nerve that ought to force her to let go of my ear as hard as I can, and she's not even flinching. I don't think we can stop her if she tries to walk away."

Of course, her phone took that opportunity to ring. With her off hand she fished it out. One glance at the screen confirmed her worst fear. She hit the button to route to voicemail, but a second later it started ringing again, the same number showing on the screen. With a sigh she shifted the phone to her clear ear and hit the button to connect.

"Hey, JJ. Did you email me about when you want to meet, already?"

"Detective Williams, I'm afraid things have escalated far more quickly than I thought possible. I'll need you to meet me as soon as possible at the First National bank just off route nine. Do you know the one I'm talking about?"

"I'm a little tied up at the moment."

"Then get untied!" A heartbeat later, he apologized. "The developing Centurion situation took us all by surprise."

"You want me to help you deal with that lunatic? I'm flattered, but what makes you think I can?"

JJ hummed a bit. "No, no... The idea has merit, but I've got other assets working on a non-confrontational solution to that situation. I need you to investigate something similar to events you've been closely associated with."

"I'm not following."

"Like I said, I'll explain when you get here. Oh, if she's available bring Jesse Rachelson. Also see if you can convince Sergeant Jack Maliss to come with you as well. He's currently a patient under the care of Doctor Angela Merilyn."

Drew pulled the phone away and stared at it for a full ten count before pulling it back to her ear. "Yeah, I know Jack. Any reason you'd need to talk with the two of them? I'm pretty sure neither one is involved with interstate crime."

"The matter at the bank isn't an interstate crime that I'm aware of. It's a bank robbery."

"Whoa. Why do you think Jesse might be involved in that?"

"We just need them to answer some questions. Can I count on you, Detective Williams?"

"I'll need to get cleaned up and see if I can collect Jesse and Jack. Meet you in... two hours?"

A thin sigh whispered through the phone line, followed by a pause. "If that's the best you can do, that's the best you can do. I'll have to see if I can work the Centurion situation by telepresence. I'll see you in two hours, Detective Williams." With no more farewell that that, he hung up.

"Who was that, and why are you going to collect me?" The Sergeant didn't loom, but his feet were set ready to bolt if he didn't like her answer.

Heck with it. If JJ doesn't like my results, he doesn't want me anyway.

"The FBI."

Charlie vanished in a cloud of sheetrock dust.