Since the temperature in the outside world was far below the controlled climate of the limousine, Celeste took the chance to glance at the building one more time before going out. Was it the correct place? The address was right but the building looked too average for her taste. It was not in the best neighborhood, it was not fancy or exclusive and it did not look like the best detective agency of the city… it was just average. Why would her father trust such a common-looking business? Maybe she did not hear the address as well as she thought, after all, she just happened to hear him talking on the phone… but which was be the odds of having the wrong address but finding a detective agency anyway? It had to be the right place.

She descended from the limousine slowly while trying to resist the urge to jump inside again, it was freezing cold outside and she was not dressed accordingly but appearance was first, so she took the time to straighten her skirt and cardigan despite the cold and then she skillfully donned a silver scarf around her neck and a pair of warn gloves. Once she was ready, she moved toward the front door of the office building as fast as she could to avoid being in contact with the freezing air for more time than necessary. One quick look at her bodyguard was enough to command him to open the door for her, and another one told him to wait outside in the freezing cold.

The girl advanced toward the reception desk as if she owned the place, moving with an incredible amount of conviction. Once there, she stared intently at the receptionist until she acknowledged her presence. “Hello. Can I help you?” She said in a very professional tone. Celeste was not professional and replied with a hint of disdain. “I hope so. I am looking for a roach.” The woman glanced at her with curiosity. “Is that your lost pet?” She glared at the receptionist. “Of course not. It is a human…” She did a small pause to decide how much she would tell the woman. “… Or it used to be one at some point…” She would not tell her that she was looking for a giant cockroach that killed the whole humankind in a distant future… that could not go well, so she waited for her to say something back. “So, is this human a friend of yours?” Apparently the receptionist was not good at guessing… Celeste did not blame her. Who could guess she was asking about a mutant whose appearance resembled a cockroach? It was farfetched even in her wildest nightmares… so she just negated with her head. The conversation was not going well… she was losing control of the situation quickly, so she tried to regain some control by changing the subject, the woman did not even flinched. “I heard your agency has a very particular detective.” In the past she would have used the word “mutant” to refer to that kind of uniqueness, now she prefers “Primus”, it has a certain charm that the other words did not. “Is Mr. Crowe available at the moment?”

Harlan Crowe was checking e-mails on his desktop computer, his right hand clicking on the mouse while his eyes were focused on the screen. He was also taking a leak in the personal bathroom of his office, his left hand providing assistance while his headless body stood there, aiming by ear. Having floating hands and head had its perks.

The ads had gone out, some online and others on printed media. The Crow's Eye was now advertising private investigation services to mutants and his father had warned him that such a move could actually make him lose some customers instead of gaining them, but Harlan thought the opposite. Apart from the NYPD, there were no serious options for mutants to go to and many agencies simply opted to turn down any cases involving mutants. Too many variables and too many dangers was the general consensus, but Harlan was willing to take the risks.

Ellie called him on the phone and Harlan pressed the speaker button. "Yes, Penny Mae?"

Her short silence spoke volumes but the fact she talked to him in a calm manner and did not even bother to correct him was proof that she wasn't alone.

"Mr. Crowe, there is a young client here wishing to talk to a 'particular' detective" she said in that sweet voice of hers. "She has... quite an interesting case to talk with you about."

"I'll be right out" Harlan answered as he sent his hands flying to wash themselves while his body walked out of the bathroom. He placed his head back into his neck and when his clean hands returned, they brought the blazer with them. He slid his handless arms through the sleeves and was now pretty presentable. It was a nice, sober, navy blue suit, very professional and it made him look more like a banker than a private investigator, but some clients still thought the profession was more James Bond-ish than it actually was and it felt good to play the part.

With his hands back on his wrists, he readjusted his tie as he came out of his office. When he entered the lobby he saw the girl, who was indeed, young, blonde and pretty and her clothes immediately gave away her status, which was far more interesting to Harlan than her age.

"Hello" he said, extending a friendly hand and flashing a smile. "I'm Harlan Crowe, how may I be of service to a nice, young lady like yourself?"

While Celeste and her growing impatience were waiting together by the reception desk, the receptionist called the famous Harlan Crowe and asked him to meet with the young client at the lobby.Then, she hung the phone suddenly and started to pretend to order some papers on her desk. She looked as if she was about to breath fire all over the place, so Celeste chose to ignore her since it seemed to be the less dangerous thing to do. Was the woman upset because she did not want to share more information about her case? Or was it something else? It kind of made her feel a little guilty, after all her case was not a secret, she just did not want to repeat everything twice. But as the girl tried to make eye contact with the woman and start a new conversation, she found herself in front of an impenetrable barrier. It was better to let her alone, so she focused on contemplating the rest of the building.

She was finishing to complaint about the last piece of furniture when the "particular" detective sneaked out of his office. He extended his hand in a friendly way and gave her a smile so sweet that leaked honey but she was not impressed. Was he really expecting her to reply that manly handshake? She was a lady. Where was the kiss on the hand or the polite bowing she deserved? In any case, she could curtsy for him and let him standing there without handshake but that would be extremely impolite. Not that she care a lot about his feelings, but it was better to start in good terms, so she obliged herself to stretch her hand and meet his for an awkward greeting. At least she was wearing gloves. Who knows where were his hands. "My name is Celeste." She said while handshaking him and then, once her hand was free again, she started to add the rest but stopped mid-sentence. "I am here because..."

An annoying voice inside her head continued the sentence for her. "I am here because I need the services of a very good detective. No, of the best detective." As her inner voice resounded in her head, she started to notice for the first time the details surrounding the so called detective... the suit was not bad despite the fact her shoes were more expensive but the color was a different matter, it ruined the whole setup. Why would a detective pick that color? Where were the overcoat and the hat? Certainly, he did not look like a regular detective, neither a good one. So she ignored him for a moment and focused her gaze on the receptionist one more time. "Are you sure this man is Harlan Crowe?" She did not even care to lower her voice or hide her suspicions, or to sugarcoat the next line. "I was expecting someone more impressive." According to her father, that man in blue suit was supposed to be the best detective in the agency. Part of his success had something to do with his uniqueness since he was a mutant of some sort despite she could not see anything special about him. He had no wings to fly, no red skin providing him with super strength, no scales, horns or anything remotely different. As far as she could tell, he was a plain human or a very useless mutant. Could looks be so deceiving? She doubted it would be possible.

The girl's words left him dumbfounded. He took a quick glance at Ellie, who was trying his best not to laugh out loud but the little barely repressed shakes in her body were giving her away. Oh, he could see a zinger coming out of that mouth a mile away.

"Particular doesn't always mean impressive, honey."

ZING!

She hanged him up to dry and in front of a new client no less! This would take some ego damage control and maybe some retaliatory fire in return. He smiled opening both hands as if wondering about something.

"Oh, what would a receptionist, desk clerk, minimum wage assistant know?" he asked his young client, knowing without looking that Ellie's repressed smile had instantly vanished.

In his mind, however, he was measuring this new customer. Her words and demeanor were those of someone who only accepted the highest standards. Harlan's office wasn't exactly the highest, but it was the only-est openly taking cases dealing with mutants. He'd had six of them going now and five of those were from mutants, the sixth being a father looking for his mutant son. Humans were a minority in this side of the business. Could this be his first 'human' customer interested in mutant affairs? Why was she so inclined on him being 'impressive'? Or was there maybe the possibility that she respected mutation? Because she herself... hmm...

He felt tempted to show off, no doubt about it, but taking his own head off could deliver the wrong message. It was proof that he had been, well... beheaded at some point in his life and that didn't exactly scream 'I'M COMPETENT!' to a new client. He decided instead to test the waters and see if his suspicions were correct. Celeste was possibly a mutant, if statistics were to be believed, but he was taking a gamble really. It could actually score him points if he played his cards right.

"In my line of business, being impressive works against me. I must be able to blend in, to pass as human when needed and as a mutant when not. Surely an 'impressive' man would call attention to himself when doing surveillance? Besides..." he said, pausing and flashing her a charming smirk "...I believe hidden mutations are actually the best mutations, wouldn't you agree?"

There was no sign whatsoever in her person that she was a mutant, but if her mutation was also of the hidden sort, that last line was a compliment he hoped could improve his standing. Bowing his head a little to the young girl, he confirmed his identity, eager to find out what sort of concerns had brought her to his door.

"I AM Harlan Crowe, and impressiveness notwithstanding, I am curious to know what you need a detective for."

While the two of them, client and detective, were still weighting each other to determine if the other was a potential business partner or a waste of time, the receptionist took advantage of the silent and expressed her opinion about them. She turned Celeste's words against her, delivering at the same time and in the same sentence an excellent attack to Mr. Crowe. She displayed such grace, cleverness and quick tongue in that act of defiance that Celeste started to consider offering her a job as her personal assistant but before she could compliment the receptionist for the witty remark, Crowe mentioned that she was a minimum wage assistant and that alone made Celeste reconsider and reject any possibility of working with her. So she moved closer to the detective and away from the reception desk and her highly contagious poverty. After all, it could be fatal in some occasions.

Despite that each word that came out of his mouth sounded as very bad excuses, she silently listened to him. During that horrendous shared dream, she met Katrina, a girl able to create illusions and mess with your senses. Her powers alone were quite impressive but talking with an invisible woman was even more shocking. No matter how many times she did it, or the fact that she knew that Katrina could do that, it always surprised her. The experience of talking with a voice without body was always impressive. So, she was impressive and perfect for stealth operations... it could totally discredit his little speech but she remained silent and waited for him to finish. She would not give him that much information. She could not. Who would believe a bunch of people dreamed about the apocalypses to come? So telling him that she met an invisible girl during a dream was out of the question.

She was so distracted with her own thoughts that the question caught her off guard and made her flinch. The flinching alone was enough to give him the answer he wanted but her body was determined to give away her secrets and commanded blood to rush to her cheeks, coloring her face with a deep crimson that was impossible to ignore.

Celeste did her best to recover from the surprise and reply his question as best as she could, but the question was so tricky that she was not sure how she should feel about it. She was in conflict with a mutation as the source of her abilities, but in turn, she loved to color stuff and experiment with these same abilities... Hidden mutations could be a bless for the eye, since she did not need to glance at horrendous, gross or unnatural things like the big lizard that appeared in her party, but hidden mutations also helped mutants to hide and that disturbed her a lot since she could not tell apart a mutant from a human...
Before replying his question, she thought about herself and her special abilities. She liked them a lot but for the most part of the time she kept them a secret, even from her parents. Only a handful of people knew about her powers and most of them were the people that helped her survive during the apocalypses. Everything was linked to that grim dream. "No, I wouldn't agree." She replied in a hurry, not wanting to extend the waiting any longer but still trying to fully form the idea in her mind. "Those who hide their mutations are just better at lying." She paused for a moment, reordering her thoughts and adjusting the story she was going to tell him, a story about a giant cockroach. "I am still wondering if you are just a better liar than the rest or if you are really worth the money and the trouble..." She spoke in a neutral tone, trying hard to hide the mistrust she felt for him but also to hide any leftover of emotion from that dream were she crossed paths with that abomination. "Locate a human sized roach and inform me of its location." With so few information, Mr. Crowe would need to base his search on rumors alone, it could be tricky and that was why he needed to be the best but also because the roach could be very dangerous. She omitted that part.

>>"No, I wouldn't agree."

Celeste's blushed reaction was quite telling, but when words weren't crossed, the answers could be misleading. Was she being truthful and simply embarrassed at having been asked such a question or was she still in the mutant closet, so to speak?

>>"Those who hide their mutations are just better at lying."

Touché

>>"I am still wondering if you are just a better liar than the rest or if you are really worth the money and the trouble..."

"Those are not mutually exclusive. Find me a private eye who can't lie and I'll find you one without a job." he replied non-chalantly. Lying was a requisite in the business, just like it was with lawyers. "I'm worth every penny and I'll give you no trouble once I'm on my way" he added as he raised his arm, guiding her to where his private office was located. The lobby was no place to discuss cases, no matter how big or how sma...

>>"Locate a human sized roach and inform me of its location."

To this, he dropped his arm and furrowed his brow. He darted a look at Ellie to make sure she wasn't pulling a fast one over him and his receptionist simply shrugged her shoulders. He brought his eyes back at his potential client and found her face straight and serious, instead of laughing hysterically at her own joke. He looked around, just to check if there were any hidden cameras, any repressed laughter or titters and found none. Then he turned back to Celeste.

"Is this for real?" he asked, then added in disbelief: "A classy girl like you wants me to find... a giant cockroach?"

It just made no sense. They weren't a special effects company and the sign outside clearly stated they were private investigators. He wondered if under those sleeves the girl had needle marks, though her eyes and face looked quite healthy. No, no... something else was going on here and he wasn't going to run outside and start asking people if they had seen giant pests around their kitchens.

"If you're serious, I'm going to need more than just that" he said in an almost warning tone, letting her know that he didn't appreciate being taken for a fool and if she was yanking his chain, this meeting was pretty much over. "If such a thing as a giant cockroach exists, then I need to know everything you know about it."

For some reason that escaped her comprehension, her simple request provoked a few strange reactions. The minimum wage assistant exchanged a few confused looks with the not impressive Harlan Crowe and in turn, he mimicked her and showed an expression that showed a clearly lack of clarity. Was her request that difficult to understand for their impoverished minds? Apparently, it was. She sighted.
Why would he doubt of the existence of a giant cockroach when there were plenty of mutants that defied the laws of nature in a daily basis? She was living proof of that. A witch able to command colors to leave their mortal containers and then order them to jump inside any object, devouring the original appearance and replacing it with a more beautiful and impossible set of colors and textures.
So when he verbalized his doubts and asked her if it was for real, she obliged herself to put aside a wide array of expressions and curses to use a simple but deadly glare. If that was not enough, she crossed her arms over her chest, a sign that can only mean that she was serious.

Despite her eyes were still locked in the task of glaring furiously, she could not avoid to smile when he complimented her status. The smile on her lips was genuine, beautiful and sincere but since she was still glaring at him, it made her look like a mad scientist contemplating a doom's day device with a look of sinful glee. Luckily, the mix of expressions lasted just a moment and then the smile faded away and only the glaring remained.
"That creature broke into my house, stole something precious and threatened my life." She paused to breath, she did not know when but apparently she had started to raise her voice and let her emotions filter into her words. "It is a matter of honor!" The sound of her own agitated voice made her realize her mistake and soon, she was breathing slower to calm down.
As always, there was a part she could not tell him, a part of the story she could not tell anyone. A fragment about how the giant roach and a retinue of smaller yet highly disgusting roaches raider her bunker, stole a nuclear warhead and killed what was left of New York's population.

She sighted again, that time harder than before, then she started to organize her thoughts before speaking again but no matter of many times she re-wrote the next few phrases, her speech always sounded too far-fetched, like if it were something out of a bad Sci-fi movie. She sighted again, not because she was exasperated like before but out of tiredness. "You are not going to like this..." Her voice was soft and somewhat calm, yet it contained a big amount of fear. Would he believe her? The only pieces of information she possessed were so useless and unbelievable but since she had nothing else to work with, she continued with the speech. "I do not know for sure but I think it is safe to assume that this roach is a mutant." She paused. She was reaching the hard part... "I believe it is male since it... he..." She hesitated, stopping for a moment, her voice was filled with doubts. What would he think about her next phrase? "He wears some classy accessories... male accessories like a tall hat and a walking stick but he does not wear pants. " Her glaring softened. It shifted into a silent plea. A commanding stare that ordered him to believe in her words.

She glared at him. In his experience, 'glares' were the least 'I'm kidding!' expression on a human face. When she smiled at the 'classy girl' bit, even through a glare, she gave a bit of herself away. The girl liked flattery and Harlan was quick to tack that piece of info somewhere in his brain.

She explained the monster cockroach had stolen something from her and threatened her as well. Honor was in the balance. She said it in such a convincing fashion that Harlan decided Celeste was not lying or kidding and the possibility of a giant cockroach wandering about in the world might be real after all. Mutants, in the end, were known to be quite diverse.

Now she was about to give him some details. She seemed tired and scared, hoping to be believed by someone. Harlan had much more control over his facial expressions, based on his acting skill and he figured he could pull off a face of understanding and support, even if on the inside he were plagued by utter disbelief, so he encouraged the girl to go on. She thought the roach was a mutant and that was almost a certainty. Go on, girl. She thought the roach was male. Go on, girl. The roach wore... classy accessories?...a top hat? A walking stick? NO PANTS!?. Stop girl, STOP!

Harlan kept his face as neutral as possible, but a small squint in his eyes revealed he was processing what he had just been told. Should he... follow along and keep asking her questions? There was that pleading stare from her, the one that still meant 'I am NOT kidding and I'm not on drugs!'

Harlan raised both of his hands, a signal that he needed a bit of a pause and was thinking things over before opening his mouth.

So, a male roach. As far as he knew, roaches didn't have dangly bits so even if he wasn't wearing pants, she guessed the gender by the classy accessories. A top hat. Walking stick. Maybe she ate too much peanut butter and the Planters logo decided to attack her. No, no, she didn't mention a monocle. Focus Harlan. Why would a roach need a walking stick? They have six freaking legs, don't they? Maybe it's an old cockroach? Maybe... Maybe this is all too much to process while standing in the lobby, so why don't you just go with the flow, tell her you believe her and then look at all of this carefully and critically over a shot of brandy?

"I believe you" he said, sounding as honest as he could possibly muster. While he DID have his doubts, he wouldn't let those doubts stop him from finding out if such a creature really existed. He then decided to break the tense atmosphere with a little joke. "This roach isn't much into modern fashion, is he?"

Harlan then stood to her side and with one arm urged her again to walk forward towards his office. They could sort out a few of these details in there.

"It's not that difficult to understand why others wouldn't believe you" he said, as his mind figured out a way to bring her story into the realm of reality. "If this roach broke into your house, then some clue of his presence must have been left. Broken glass? Tipped furniture? Foot prints or maybe even scratches? Did you report this breaking and entering to the police?"

As her black eyes silently asked for his help, her already wounded honor keep taking even more damage. Widening the wound even more, yet she was so focused on the task at hand that she did not notice for how long or with how much intensity she had been pleading until Harlan Crowe motioned for her to stop. He raised his hand in front of him and that simple motion conjured a spell that devoured all the sounds in the lobby to the extent that she feared to break it, so she contained her breath for the duration of that long and painful moment. Was his professional opinion worth all that waiting? Why would he make her wait if not to anger her? At least, anger was an emotion she was used to deal with, contrary to fear or despair, two feelings that made her feel weak, vulnerable and useless. All three were emotions that her father did not approve.

Luckily, when her face was starting to grow red and her lungs were about to collapse, he broke the tension with a verbal replied. Each of his words encouraged her to relax so she did by letting the contained air to escape in a smooth exhalation of relief. Sadly, when she was starting to believe that detective was worth all the trouble as he said before, he made a terrible joke about her worst nightmare. She replied by smiling faintly, a very forced smile that did not fit with the rest of her face. While she was still debating if she should laugh and hope to sound natural or giggle nervously, he moved to her side and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She was so glad to have an excuse to escape from that awkward moment that she did not even mind about the boldness of touching her. In other occasion, he would have received a kiss from her Taser.

They walked toward the office without saying another word, she wanted to reply him right away and end with that silly interrogation but he was right about wanting to talk about it in private, so she waited until they were inside his office. When she analyzed the whole story in her mind, it was not that unbelievable but somehow words made it look like a very silly thing. She could had asked Maxine and her Amazons to deal with the huge roach but all the privileges and useful gift she had during that dream were now in any convenience store. Plus, for all she knew, the group disbanded after the dream ended. So if he did not want to help, she would be alone.

His questions were not easy to reply, it was like if he was reading her mind to find the most complicate question to ask. She sighted again, tired of explaining a story that was so clear in her mind. "Actually, the roach tricked me into opening the door." She blushed slightly, clearly embarrassed of the fact that an inferior mind managed to deceive her. He was not even a mammal. "That monster must have taken acting classes because he spoke like an elderly woman." She stared at her feet, intrigued by what he could think about her story but not daring to raise her eyes for fear of catching him laughing at her. "When I opened the door, I realized my mistake right away... but when I tried to close the door, the roach blocked it with his foot." The fear she felt during that dreadful moment managed to fill her eyes with tears, so she turned around and pretended to examine a picture on the opposite wall. The story was a little different in her head, since there was an invisible woman that entered her bunker when the roach held the door open and also a big bulky woman with red skin and a bloody trident, along with a bunch of semi intelligent roaches of the size of a dog. When she managed to control her emotion enough for her teary eyes to return to normal, she tried to continue with the explanation... but how could she explain that there was no clue left because it happened during a collective dream? She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts and then she made him a question. "Did you hear those enigmatic radio ads about an exclusive party?"

Trying to understand what was really going on was difficult. On the one hand, you had this girl, who was clearly swimming in money and willing to depart from a chunk of it to solve something she really, truly, honestly believed in to the point Harlan was convinced she wasn't lying and on the other hand, everything she said sounded so far fetched it was simply too outlandish to be real.

They were in his office now and he was sitting in his chair, listening to the chain of events as she told them, keeping his face neutral and supportive, even if his brain was having trouble absorbing it all.

The giant, pants-less cockroach with a top hat and a cane imitated an elderly woman's voice to trick Celeste into opening the door, so the creature had no longer broken into the house, therefore there were no real traces of physical evidence to prove it's existence and Harlan was forced to rely solely on Celeste's word. She then tried to close the door, but the creature blocked it with its cockroachy leg and here is where he was getting really confused. Where he was expecting to see a shred of laughter or trickery or deceit from her, all he got were eyes holding back tears as her pride forced her to move them away.

She. Wasn't. Lying.

So what the hell was she doing and why!?

She then pulled a non sequitur that caught him off base.

>>"Did you hear those enigmatic radio ads about an exclusive party?"

What? Now where did that come from? Why was she asking him this?

Oh. Oh, no that couldn't be possible. Was this some sort of elaborate ruse to... ask him out to an exclusive party? She was a teenager! He was twice her age! She couldn't possibly have a crush on him! It was... wait a minute.

He did remember the ads, they ran just a couple of weeks ago. The party must have already happened, so he was jumping to conclusions. Burke had mentioned that the ad sounded like conspiracy theory stuff. What did those ads had to do with her or the giant cockroach?

He had kept his face serious the whole time, though his eyes and eyebrows may have given a hint or two away about the roller coaster ride his brain was going through.

"I do recall the ads. Not so much the party part, but the 'apocalypse' angle they were trying to sell and the whole mystery thing. Why? What does that have to do with the cockroach guy?" he asked, hoping to get to some answers that made a modicum of sense.

Despite the question was so simple, the suddenness of it appeared to catch the detective off guard since his reply was delayed a few moments. His expression was the same as before, a natural poker face that hide everything that was happening inside his head from her but despite his efforts, his puzzlement was displayed by a pair of very expressive eyebrows raised in bewilderment. It was just a moment, gone so fast that it could be a product of her imagination but it was all she needed to regain a little of the confidence she needed to go on with the explanation. A very difficult one since she was about to reveal the existence of a collective dream that foretold the end of humankind.

For an experienced detective, he was very clueless about what the ads were really about so Celeste was glad to enlighten him on that matter. "I held that party." She said while displaying a proud smile on her lips, and then she continued with the explanation. "I had a dream about the future. It was a very dark place." She glared at him just in case he decided to laugh at her statement. She had revised the dream a lot of times and none of it made sense, it was as if a bad SCI-FI movie was broadcasted directly into their brains. She paused a moment to pick the correct words to make it as clear as possible. "The cockroach broke into my bunker during that dream." To make it short, she omitted the part about the selling of weapons and food for a profit, or the link she forged with the Amazons and pretty much anything that happened during the three years compressed in one night of dreaming. "It sounds crazy, I know." She sighted. "But I held the party to get in touch with the people I met during that dream. It was not just me. A lot of people remembered surviving through that nightmare." She was mentally exhausted, her throat was dry but at least she managed to tell the story about that dream one more time.