Sigh.

It was late. Even for a world traveling detective, with constant jet lag and with a day off waiting for her in the morning, to be wide awake at 3 in the morning was not exactly normal nor was it favorable. But there she was, looking at the uniform dorm ceiling of apartment 424, no lights to be had except for the pale glow of city lights out her window and the digital readout of her bedside alarm clock.

Taking a deep breath she turned onto her side, cuddling up to her pillow as her eyes looked to the night table beside her which held her communicator, a glass of water, the alarm clock and a picture of 4 people. The pale blue lcd glow of the clock lit up the aged image of a small family sitting together in formalwear; a mother, a father, a teenaged boy and a slightly younger and chunkier girl with dark red hair and plastic rimmed glasses a bit too large for her face. It was the girl who her eyes were drawn to. It had been the focus of a number of sleepless nights, not that she had ever consciously intended it to be.

Melissa Wayward, the blond agent which now lay in bed, heavy eyes still staring blankly, knew this girl all too well. The girl\'s name was Eleanor Catherine Mayhem.

Eleanor had been born and raised in Gary, IN, the daughter of a school secretary and a research scientist. She\'d gone to college at the University of Illinois and interned with the Chicago Police Department\'s 26th precinct before graduating and becoming an ACME Agent in Boston. Eventually she\'d gained status within the company, working across the world with various agents from various branches but particularly the company\'s HQ in San Francisco, CA. Being given an oppertunity for advancement back in the Boston branch Eleanor had taken it and become a Case Director. However the decreased exposure to the field and increased desk work seemed immediately to her disliking and, find very few favorable options she applied to the company\'s Special Operations program. Her reputation for being passionate but foolhardy was, she believed, a factor that could work against her acceptance into the program, especially given her past work with Special Operations Director Chase Devineaux. Because of this she had requested that she be given a new persona for the ACME Detective Agency. A new name to cover the reputation of her past.

The persona had been Melissa Wayward.

The change of name had first been a pleasure to have - it was a brand new start in the company. She\'d bleached her hair, she\'d changed her accent, dropped weight, traded her glasses for color contacts. She\'d adopted a story about being a mechanic and throughout her training had hidden from the watchful eye of Chase Devineaux, leaving her reputation to be that of the stained grease monkey with an office and a laptop. Her change had been so convincing that Chase never knew and ACME had taken advantage of that in certain ways. Eventually the head of SO figured it out but the magic had already started to wear off by then.

For months now she\'d been simply staring at things that reminded her of herself, her old self. Staring at old pictures, Looking up her old profile.

Missy rose from her bed and walked to the bathroom, turning on the light and not being able to help squinting at its sudden brightness. In a well memorized move she opened the bathroom closet and reached back behind the bottles of contact fluid and boxes of root touchup to a tissue box which held a pair of wire rimmed glasses. At first looking of them had always made her smile, the feeling somewhere between a pleasure in getting away with no one knowing who she was and a relief in giving up her former self. Now they seemed to only make her remember everything she\'d given up.

Her hands gently placed the glasses onto her face and she looked into the mirror, giving a small and sad smile. While before they had been seen as only an emergency pair of glasses or an occasional way to remember her old look now seeing herself with the blond hair and the glasses only reminded her of how different she looked and felt now. How she presented herself to the world was different too.

Melissa gave an auditable sigh and leaned against the sink as she continued to stare at herself. She WASN\'T Melissa Wayward. She\'d thought the change would do her good but now... it didn\'t feel like she was even in her own life anymore.

\"I can\'t believe I asked for this.\" she muttered softly to herself, glaring at the mirror. \"I don\'t want this anymore.\" The glasses no longer helped to make her feel a little normal anymore. Now they were almost like grasping at the coattails of what she had been.

What had been so wrong with being Eleanor Mayhem?

Perhaps the disguise had been useful to get her into the Special Operations program but even then that was only a maybe. She\'d trained hard, she\'d dropped weight, she had the abilities to back up her actions now. She\'d been accepted into Special Operations. Eleanor Mayhem saved people. She helped people, she put people behind bars. Eleanor Mayhem was worth being. Why, when she was doing the best in her life, did she want to abandon everything that helped her become great?

There was a long pause. She stared at herself in the mirror, silent.

\"Tomorrow.\" she finally said to herself and pulled the glasses off of her face. Instead of putting them back into their hiding place she brought them with her back to the bed, placing them on the night table next to her bed before setting her alarm. Tomorrow she was going to change again.

With the decision made Melissa slid into bed and closed her eyes for the last time. Tomorrow Melissa Wayward would cease to exist.