"Coming along." With her green skinsuit covered with a bright pink smock, Trina smoothed at the face putty she'd used to redefine Eve's chin. "How you holding up?"

"Boobs feel funny. Heavy."

"That's because you have some now. I know a guy who can do that permanent for you – at cost."

"I'll keep my own, thanks just the same."

"Up to you. Hold still. This needs a minute to set."

"Why is it taking so long? I can't believe those assholes spent hours a day prepping for these dates."

"Probably not. Change your appearance that way in under an hour if you know what you're doing. But we're not just changing yours. We're replicating as close as we can somebody else's image." Trina snapped the kiwi-scented gum she was chewing. "It's lots trickier."

"It's really working, too." In a smock of dizzying neon swirls of blue and yellow. Mavis stood in as first assistant. "The whole shape of your face is different, Dallas. You've lost the chin dent, the edge of your cheekbones. You look softer. Wanna see?"

"No. Not till it's done. How much longer? I've got to get in the field."

"Final inning's coming up. I've gotta blend this color, do the surface enhancements." Trina rubbed a bit of color into the back of Eve's hand, pursed her lips, studied the computer image of Stefanie Finch. "What do you think?" she asked Mavis.

"Need to pink it up just a little."

"Yeah." She added a dab to a testing bowl, blended. "Yeah, yeah, this is it. I'm a fucking genius. Mav, better call Leonardo and tell him to hustle it with the outfit. I need to know how much of her to cover with this."

"As little as possible." Eve begged.

"Relax your face. I'm going to start there. This is a nice face," she added as she went to work. "Pretty and all. Yours is actually the more interesting of the two, though."

"Golly, Trina, I'm all atingle."

"If you took basic care of it, it would last you another fifty-sixty years without serious sculpting. 'Cause you got good bones."

Across the room, Mavis was cooing into the house 'link. It seemed to Eve she and Leonardo couldn't have a conversation with each other without cooing.

"White skinsuit, red swish," Mavis announced. "Elbow sleeves, scooped neck to mid-boobs. He'll have it down in five."

"What the hell's a swish?" Eve wanted to know.

"No talking till I finish the lip area. Very sexy," Trina said to Mavis. "Good choice with this coloring. Can you do the extremities?"

"Frigid! I just love playing with the goop. I have to take your wedding ring, Dallas. I'll give it to Roarke."

Instinctively, Eve curled her fingers in protest, a gesture that made Mavis's romantic heart sigh. "Don't worry." She gave Eve's hand a part. "I remember when he put this on you the first time. Almost a year ago. It was the best wedding."

Eve relaxed again, listened to Mavis's chatter with half an ear.

She knew Leonardo came in by Mavis's purr of greeting. Then there was cooing and kissy sounds.

"Wonderful job, Trina." His rich voice sounded very close to Eve's head, which told her he'd bent down to study the work. "I wouldn't have recognized her. Did you decide on the silitrex or the plastisinal base?"

"Silitrex. More pliable, and she doesn't need it to last that long."

Eve opened one eye when a finger poked at her cheek. And saw Leonardo's wide, golden face looming in front of hers. "Am I done yet?" she asked him.

He smiled, eyes warming, teeth flashing white and gold. "Almost. You're going to be pleased. What about the eyes?" he asked Trina.

"Temp gels. We'll get them close. She'll wear some amber sunshades, too." She peered at something over Eve's shoulder. "Great outfit. I've got a lip dye that matches that red, and we'll use crisp tones on the cheeks and eyes. Can you guys handle doing her nails?"

"I don't need my nails done."

"Woman goes on a hot date, she does her nails. Fingers and toes," Trina added. "Fifteen more minutes," she promised.

It took nearly twice that, and Eve was considering making a break for it. But since she was surrounded, she stayed put and nearly wept with relief when Trina fixed on the wig she'd dyed and styled the night before.

Eve sat while her three keepers took several steps back and studied her.

"I've got one thing to say," Trina began. "I am good." She snapped a finger. "Wardrobe and accessories."

Two hours after the transformation began, Eve stood in front of the mirror Leonardo hauled in. After the first jolt, she settled down to study and critique.

She knew what a swish was now. It was exactly that – a swish of material that swirled down in a kind of open-fronted skirt. This one was murderous red and fell to mid-calf. It did nothing, as far as she could see, to make the skinsuit more modest. Nothing could. They were called skinsuits for a reason, the same reason she never wore the damn things.

Might as well walk around naked.

The body she was walking around in was curvier than her own. Despite the fact the breasts weren't hers, she felt uncomfortable having them so prominently displayed. Another inch of flesh, and she'd have had to cite herself for indecent exposure.

Her hair was lighter, longer. Sort of a subtle blonde that scooped into points at her chin. A rounded, undented chin, with soft and rounded cheeks. Her mouth didn't look quite so wide with those cheeks, that chin. Still, with the rich red dye, it practically popped off the face.

Her eyes were hazel with hints of green. But the expression in them was all Eve.

"Okay." She nodded, watched Stefanie's face nod back at her. "You are good. But let's give it the big test."

She crossed the room, walked into Roarke's office.

He was on the 'link, had a laser fax coming in and a holo-blueprint of a building hovering over his desk. "I'll approve the changes to the first level. Yes. But I'll need to see…" He trailed off, stared for a full five seconds. "Sorry, Jansen, I'll have to get back to you." He ended transmission, tapped something that had the holo evaporating.

He rose, walked to her, around her. "Amazing. Truly. Are you in there?" he murmured then looked into her eyes. "Ah yes. There you are."

"What tips it?"

"Trina may be a miracle worker, but she can't do anything about those cop's eyes." When she frowned, Roarke lifted her chin with his hand. "Feels very natural," he added with a gentle rub of his thumb.

"Check the boobs," Trina invited from behind Eve. "They're the latest temps. Can't tell them from God-made. Go ahead. Take a squeeze."

"Well, if you insist." Ignoring Eve's growl of warning, he cupped the breasts. "You feel very… healthy."

"They come off the minute I take him down. So don't get any sick ideas."

"They taste real, too," Trina assured him.

Roarke's eyebrow arched. "Really?"

"Don't even think about it." She slapped his hands away. "Give me the verdict. Will he buy it?"

"Hook and line, Lieutenant. You might want to adjust your gait a bit. Saunter rather than stride."

"Saunter. Check."

"And try not to look at him as though you already had him in Interview. You're going to a picnic in the park. Try to remember what that's like."

"I've never had a picnic in the park."

He skimmed a finger down her chin, just where the dent would be. "We'll have to fix that. Soon."

She rode to the north end of the park in the surveillance vehicle, leaning over Feeney's shoulder as he did the checks.

"Running sweeps. Baxter."

The first of Feeney's screens showed a fountain fed by a leaping dolphin. She could hear the tinkle of water against water, snatches of conversations as people strolled, and Baxter's whiny plea for contributions. The screen jumped slightly as he circled.