"She doesn't know she loves me."

"I don't care if you're the Rear Admiral of the HMS Pinafore. I'm not getting in that thing."

Al turned back with a sigh and tried to grab Harry's arm, getting a sharp yank and a halfhearted swat for his trouble. "Harry, you have to."

"Detective Denby," Harry corrected coldly, folding his arms. "And I don't have to anything. You've abducted a United States federal law enforcement agent. Every last one of you is going to be spending the rest of your natural lives getting porked by your cellmates anyway, so I suggest you leave me alone while you can."

Al rolled his eyes. "One, you weren't 'abducted'. All your little fed friends still think you're back in wherever you came from, okay? And two," Admiral Calavicci drew himself up as tall as he could, and even so was still forced to tilt himself back to look Detective Denby in the eye. "If you want to pull rank, son, you've got a long way to go to outpull me."

Harry stared the man down for a moment... and finally blinked.

"Get in the damn chamber," Al snapped, herding the sullen detective in front of him.

Once he was inside the imaging chamber, he turned, glancing around claustrophobically. "So what..? What happens now?"

The door slid shut behind Al as he stepped in, pecking at keys on the colorful handlink. In a moment, the white box around them vanished, replaced by the homicide office of the One Five.

Harry's face went blank, then red, then mildly green. "Maybe she did blow my brains out," he rasped.

"No," Al sighed, heading over to where Sam sat. "You're plenty alive. You just aren't really here."

At the sound of Al's voice, the man on the bench snapped his head up and gave a sharp gasp.

Harry got just a little greener.

That's me. That person is me. He looks like what I see in the mirror but...

"Are you... Harry Denby?" the man said.

"Last time I checked," he answered warily. "Who are you and what are you doing with my body?"