It has been forever since I updated, I am so sorry. I'm not done with this story, I promise. Here is a short installment. Please take the time to review! Thanks

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"Did it work?!" Artie was standing sweating over Claudia's shoulder.

"Ew, man you need a shower." She waved her hand in front of her face to remove the smell of Artie. "It worked, she's stable again but I'm sure she felt that. I'm not sure if her own body image disappeared or if the person she is in has shone through." Claudia rubbed her forehead. "Either way it wasn't good." Artie still hovered, "Will you please SIT DOWN over there," She pointed to a folding chair in the corner, "Or go somewhere and freshen up? You're making me nervous."

Artie paused running his stubby hands through his hair, "Yeah, right. I'll just…um yeah." He glanced over at Myka. "She's fine though?"

Claudia spun in her chair and placed her hands on the older man's shoulder, "Yes, she is fine. Please chilliax will you?" She said in a strong voice that surprised even herself.

He nodded, "I'm just going to go shower and change. I'll have my Farnsworth with me. Call me if anything and I mean anything changes."

Claudia watched him go, she was worried, what if Myka's entire image just changed? She prayed that she was nowhere near anyone when it happened.

…

…

Myka gave a shout, jumping up she knocked her head on the ceiling of the coach. She looked around, it was filled with a putrid smelling sweet smoke, "Cecelia my dear, really." A deep voice grumbled from across the small space. She frantically looked around, her head ached and the smoke coming from the man's pipe was not helping the nausea that was threatening her stomach. What the hell just happened?

"Where-Where are we?"

The man leaned forward to get a better view of the scenery around them, "The outskirts of London, almost there love." He went back to his newspaper.

The outskirts of London? She was just in Helena's bedroom AS HELENA, now she was apparently Cecelia and in a carriage. She had to get back to Helena, she had to help her, "Where are we going?" She dared to ask, trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

The older man raised his fuzzy gray eyebrows at her. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes. I-I um just had the strangest dream."

He chuckled, "You women and your hysteria. We'll be at the Wells' house soon."

Myka blanched, they were going to Helena's house? Of course there could be many other Wells in London, it didn't mean that they were going to THE Wells, but what were the chances? She examined the man across from her, she guessed he was in his late fifties to early sixties, his thin graying hair hidden by a hat that was perched almost comically on his head, he looked well off, and his wool suit was obviously custom made for his large body. He chewed on the end of his pipe as he thumbed through his newspaper; his almost white mustache and beard was stained brown from the tobacco. Who was he to her, husband, uncle, father? She ran her hands nervously over the blue silk dress, her hands were incased in white pearl studded gloves, the whale bone in the corset she wore under her dress was biting into her ribs and she found it difficult to take a full breath, how she longed to be back in the comfortable clothes Helena was wearing when she first entered her body. Soon they hit the cobblestone streets of London and her traveling companion put his paper away and leaned forward in his seat to look out the window. "Not long now Cece." She smiled tightly at the man and went back to looking out the window, absolutely fascinated by what she was seeing.

"I think your mother would have approved."

Myka frowned, "Of what?"

"Of our marriages of course!" He let out a loud laugh, "Really girl, are you that in love with him that your head is full of fluff?"

Myka turned to him, wide eyed, "No-no, I guess I'm just excited." Thank God she wasn't marrying the man across from her, but who was she marrying…or for a better term, who was Cecelia marrying. The driver tapped on the roof of the carriage signaling they were arriving at their destination.

He smiled a tobacco stained grin at her and she felt her stomach turn, "I'm sure you and Charles will be quite happy, as happy as me and Helena."

"Wha-?" Myka's brain kicked into overdrive she was to marry Charles and this-this must be Mr. Anderson, he was to marry Helena? Her Helena? He could be her father! Or even her grandfather! This was the man who agreed to 'fix' her love. The thought of him touching her made her stomach roll. Myka tried to take a deep breath but the corset stopped her lungs from expanding, she tried again desperate to get air into her body but the corset was too tight. The man exhaled a puff a pipe smoke and she gagged, her vision began to darken around the edges; she tried to fight the feeling but quickly lost the battle. Everything went dark.

TBC

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