You decide not to make a switch now, and head back to your seat. You watch as the barista goes about her business, and Claire walks out of the ladies' room, your chance missed. Karin is still talking, stroking her pixie-crop and its out-of-a-bottle blonde strands. She looks at you, as if mentally firing daggers into your chest.
"Well, that was rude!" she snaps. "It goes to show though, haven't I been telling you that you should see a doctor recently, mwah mwah mwah..."
She continues to talk all the way through lunch. As Thom, you sit there, letting his mind block out her droning, chipping in only with 'yes' and 'no dear' every so often to keep the stream coming. All the while you plan out your next move. Heading back to Protean is, as you've already decided, a bad option. And a cold shiver of sweat runs down your back as you wonder if they'll check the security tapes. It's just too dangerous.
"Anyway, I was going to meet Vicky North later, get our nails done, and then, mwah mwah mwah". You frown with irritation at Karin's' nasal New York tone, and go back to your planning. You shouldn't have run from Jillian, and somehow you need to get word to her you're OK. That's when it hits you. Vicky North... isn't she the wife of Dr North, who works just a few doors down from your own lab? That could be a perfect way to keep tabs on the facility, but in a way nobody would ever suspect. They might scan every employee, but they wouldn't scan an employee's family, would they?
You look at Karin, and give a smile. The frame, uncomfortably turning to fat in places; the awful haircut; the voice. But she's your best option right now. You keep up the pretense, letting Thom block out her complaining and gossip, and hatching your plan.
Fifteen minutes later, and she's demanding that you carry her items to the car boot. You do so, Thom's arms holding the excessive amount of shoes, clothes and accessories Karin's piled on to your - or at least Thom's - cards. You lift the backs up into the boot, depositing them down. Then you turn to Karin.
"Well aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" She demands.
"Of course dear," you say, walking towards her and placing your lips on hers. Then your hands on hers. Then, as your bodies merge, flesh becomes one and identification becomes an irrelevance. You watch as her eyes bulge in horror, before the eyes are sucked into your frame. Then the muscles unknit and twist, the bones crack and reform, the flesh bulges out at your chest and around your thighs and butt. Your hair becomes tighter, a horrendous shade of fake blonde. Your lips pout and turn a violent, lipstick red. Your nose thins as breasts erupt from your chest. And, as you step back in your new body, heels and clothes that should be worn by a woman ten years your junior tight against your flesh, you let Thom slip out. You look around to make sure nobody saw you, then look down at your husband.
Karin's thoughts fire through your brain: no real concern if he's all right, just irritation he's keeping her from a date with her friends. She's really an unsympathetic woman, and as you flick her hair and scratch her earrings as she always does when she's thinking, you try and search for a redeeming feature. She does seem to be a good mother at least, but you intend to be away from her life as soon as you can. After all, her form isn't the most appealing, and then there's the voice.
Oh. You forgot about that. You cough. "Testing, testing. Hiya, I'm Karin Allen. Oh man, Thom I have no idea how you put up with this. I have no idea how she does, either, just listen to me, will you?"
On the up side, nobody is going to suspect you'd choose to be someone so... irritating. And as Karin, you'll still be able to get access to the research data through Thom. Looking through her memories, there's a lot of fun to be had too, spending money with reckless abandon. Or you could go after Vicky North: she's a better choice for a more permanent residence, you think; although you'd still have to put up with Karin on their weekly pampering excursion.
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