This Amelia solo set right after she came back.

After being kidnapped for nearly a year, any normal woman might have considered taking some time off from work to get their life in order. They wouldn’t have confronted that same group who had kidnapped them, in an attempt to infiltrate their order. Their life wouldn’t have been kept neat, and tied with a bow for them by their evil twin. They wouldn’t have been in a position to utilize their rank within the police force to exercise a covert government organization’s hand, hidden behind the mask of law enforcement and bureaucracy. And they wouldn’t have gotten a promotion for doing nothing.

That had been the weirdest part of the entire situation, the promotion. Amelia had gone in to work at the same old location, and been informed, politely, that she no longer worked there and why the hell was she here? After a brief conversation about damned forgetfulness and women, she had learned about her new office with the Mutant Related Crimes department.

Apparently, she had put in for a reassignment, and someone higher up had liked her moxie. She had done a damned fine job during her absence, it seemed, and while she’d been cooped in a cell, learning to block bullets with her mind, Amelia Mellitus had been busy arresting several high profile targets and gaining herself a name. Gone were the days of parking tickets and paperwork. Here to stay were dangerous assignments involving mutants... and paperwork. The paperwork is dead. Long live the paperwork!

The new office at MRC had been much the same as the old one. Low cubicles, cramped together with other low cubicles and lots of coworkers, working hard. A ceiling dotted with pencils nobody had ever bothered to remove. Her partner was the only surprise. Amelia had worked with a partner before, during her first year on the job. She’d worked with this guy before, too. Ridley Hobbes. Nice guy. Brown hair. Metal arm. Something seemed off about the interaction though, and at first, she couldn’t place it. It was only after a couple of weeks on the job that it struck her.

Ridley and her had worked together many times, and they’d always been friendly. He struck her as too friendly. Sure, working alongside her as her partner when she hadn’t been present for the interaction might breed familiarity, but he was almost... flirty. And that was a problem. A problem she had to nip in the bud.

“Ridley,” she had said to him. “Can we talk?”

“Sure, Amelia.” He’d smiled, all friendly-like. “What’s up?”

“Did something... happen between us?” She’d asked.

“Um...”

“Because I can’t remember, and—“

“Amelia...” he’d grimaced.

“Workplace romances are... no bueno. And if something happened, you have to tell me, cuz—“

“Amelia...”

“What?”

“What are you even talking about? Are you having some sort of psychotic episode?”

Luckily, they’d been out for coffee and donuts after responding to a call. Not in the workplace. So the entire conversation wasn’t in the public eye. Unless you count the guy behind the counter of the donut shop as ‘public’. She could lay it all out for him, and sound even more like a psycho.

“If something happened, that wasn’t me.” She’d said flatly. “That whole inter dimensional rip that closed up a few weeks ago? Someone who looked like me came over, and—“

Ridley had stopped her with an upheld hand. “Stole your face?” He’d asked.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I’ve seen enough science fiction movies and alien flicks to guess from how you’re acting. Extrapolate, from incomplete data. You know?”

“Yeah. So it wasn’t me,” she’d soldiered on. “Not. Me. Psycho life stealing B——. And if something happened, you gotta tell me. Because that would be—“

“Messed up?” He’d finished for her.

That was the thing about Ridley. He got her. It was kind of nice. Just so long as he hadn’t, you know, GOT her. “Yes.” She finished flatly. “And you’ve been kind of flirty, so.”

He’d laughed at her. Straight up laughed. Amelia, had stared at him. “No.” Ridley had told her. “Nothing happened. Despite your best attempts. I like you, I guess, but not that way?” He shrugged his metal shoulder. “And besides, isn’t that against protocol? Canoodling with your partner?”

“So, the flirting?”

“I’m just being friendly.” He’d said. Thoughtfully, he’d added “Maybe a little too friendly? I can dial it back.”

“I guess.” She’d said.

“And just so you know, the flirting... most of it came from you before you joined MRC and got partnered with me.”

“Oh...”

“Actually, if I’m being honest, it’s been going on for a while. When did the whole life stealing B episode happen?”

“Uh...”

“Because I’ve always gotten the flirty vibe from you. And I really want to air this out since you brought it up, because we need to keep this relationship professional. I’m not that kind of guy.”

Well, crap, had she been accidentally flirting the entire time? Maybe Serena had been right to be jealous... Amelia had sighed and put her head in her hands.

“Got it,” She’d said. “Sorry. Won’t happen again. Look, I’ll fill you in on the B episode later. It’s kind of involved. But this conversation went from zero to awkward really quickly and I just want to dial it back.”

“Jelly donut?” He’d offered. Neutral territory. A peace treaty, she had accepted.

—

The rest of the month had been a whirlwind of activity. Adjusting to a new job position... and learning how to work for SUPER.

She’d never acted like she was the old Amelia, never given any indication that she couldn’t remember every aspect and regulation of the job. Since that first time, memories that weren’t her own had flowed back to her now and then. Brief things. A feeling of familiarity here or there. A momentary flash of insight. A name to go with a face. A code to go with a lock. A feeling of unneeded and unwanted superiority to go with booking a disorderly mutant on arrest. Wait. What was that last one?

‘This, too, shall pass’, she’d told herself. The job called for tagging dangerous mutants, and looking out for assets. She had SEEN the TV slot about the new and improved SUPER that didn’t do lab experiments on assets, and she had not believed it one bit. Having been a experiment, it’s not something one soon forgets, or forgives.

At first, she had avoided tagging mutants. But as she’d come to blows with more and more dangerous mutants in the line of her work for MRC, Amelia had found a strange feeling building in the back of her mind. Job satisfaction. Not always. SUPER was the devil. But the fact that some mutants were so disorderly, so dangerous, that they didn’t deserve to be on the streets... bugged her because she mentally accepted it as fact. That was something new. Amelia had never felt that way before in her life. People change. People grow. But maybe the memories bleeding into her from what the psychic had done were doing more damage than previously expected. Maybe it wasn’t all useful knowledge and memory tidbits? That scared her. It scared her more than anything else, because of memories could bleed over, what about personality? What about minds? The worst part of this fear was the fact she couldn’t share it.

If SUPER were watching her, to see if she was the old Amelia, from another world, seeing her act differently would do it. Speaking to Ridley had been enough of a risk. She had slipped and overshared. In case if surveillance, she couldn’t shard again. Not until she was ready. That meMt avoiding people like Mirror and Rebecca until she was certain she wasn’t being watched or overheard. She couldn’t talk to her friends. She was living in a bad dream, and alone with the knowledge gained from watching her watchers. Maybe soon, she’d be able to turn on them. But for now... now, she waited, and worked.