Displaced - Book One of the Alternate Reality Series

Chapter 25

Eric opened his eyes, then found himself standing in his 1950s Los Angeles apartment. His vision focused, and he took in the now familiar setting, but immediately noted his foreign body. It wasn't awkward, just different–a bit taller and slightly thicker.

He brought up his hands and examined their unfamiliar features, working his fingers in and out while doing so. He then looked across his arms, down his torso and over his legs, before lightly touching unacquainted facial features. Then he moved his probing digits up and over his hair and smiled. Up top was a thick mop brimming with stylish volume.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

Eric found his character smooth and attractive, despite not having seen himself. But that wasn't necessary, not with him now James Dean, an iconic figure in American cultural history. And apparently, someone else was equally impressed.

An endearing whistle blew behind James, so he turned, and his smile widened.

Before him stood the equally iconic Mary Tyler Moore, wearing a cream-white one-piece dress, whose color perfectly matched her white shoes and headband. The headband sat nestled in a puff of rounding hair, which curled in and stopped at her slim shoulders. She also wore pink lipstick and eye shadow, which played perfectly against her rosy cheeks. All in all, she beamed style and elegance.

"Hey, good looking," Mary said, her voice soft and sultry.

James didn't waste time becoming his character. He donned a look of nonchalant boredom, then popped the lapels on his black leather jacket, producing a satisfying snap. He then settled the lapels onto his white t-shirt, before fussing unnecessarily with his God-like hair. Finally, he causally eyed his dark denim jeans and black boots, both of which perfectly hugged his movie star build. "This more fun than being Lana!" He snapped up, eyes widened at the sound of his unfamiliar voice.

Mary grinned. "Keep it together, Mr. Dean." She then approached to evaluate him, continuing as she looked him over. "Yup. Someone loves tech."

"Can you blame me?"

"I'm blaming you for not joining the party sooner." Satisfied with her appraisal, she nodded.

James likewise assessed Mary, and both of them picture perfect, he felt like forgoing the mission.

As Alice had mentioned, he urged to see a movie, savoring the thought of a campy black and white, complete with cheesy plotline and terrible visual effects. Or better yet, a drive-in, where they could sit inside a vintage car, popcorn nestled between them, while a noisy speaker streamed in distorted sounds.

"Well," Mary said, shaking James from his daydream, "should we get going?"

He took a breath. "Yeah. We should. But give me a second." He looked around, considering what to bring along, then recalled his kitchen knives. He started for them, stopping after Mary called out.

"You might want this."

He turned back and saw Mary produce a pistol from her purse. She then extended the grip towards him. He took the weapon and smiled.

The piece was beautiful, with its dark-grey finish and black handle. And given its small size, it reminded him of the signature weapon James Bond carried around. His smile widened.

The perfect gift for a spy.

Still grinning, he slipped the miniature firearm into his jacket pocket.