I am Baaack! Part 12

The thought of the mayhem that would ensue if ex-Navy Seal, ex-CIA, Barbie-hating private investigator Barbara Dahal were to find herself surrounded by hundreds of "That Damn Doll" was too much. Robbie stuffed her fists against her mouth to try and stop from laughing, but couldn't, and as soon as she started, so did Dainie, unfortunately dropping into Adain's tonal range every once in a while. It is a measure of the tolerance of Chicagoans and their appreciation of cultural diversity that not one patron of FAO Schwarz acted in any way odd in the presence of a deep voiced, giggling, 5'10" tall little girl and her equally loud adult companion.

Joan found them out in front of the store on the sidewalk, sitting next to each other in one of the sidewalk art sculptures, a couch shaped like a Chicago hot dog, that had replaced the cows of several years ago as THE Chicago tourist attraction; they were both smiling. "Well, what have you two been up to?" she asked. Robbie and Dainie looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

"What?" from a perplexed Joan.

This just increased the fit of giggling, and Dainie stretched out her arm and pointed at the door of FAO Schwarz. "Aunt Robbie and I had fun!"

'Aunt Robbie?' Caught herself in the illusion, Robbie felt flattered that this beautiful and happy little girl would think of her as her aunt.

'Aunt Robbie?' Joan threw up her hands. "I don't even want to know!" But she was smiling, too. She walked to the curb and hailed a cab. When one pulled over, she looked inside to check out the driver and make sure the cab was clean. She noted with approval that the driver was a woman.

-

Barbara Dahal had changed her hair color, stripped off her nail polish, and put on more makeup than she usually did. That, plus a rather worn black leather jacket, constituted her disguise. She could not remember ever meeting Joan Adkins, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Robbie had known of Joan's plans for the day and had informed The Group. Rose, when she had been Ross/Nick Mitchell, had visited the Whip and Cuff Club and had seen Stella; she had decided to provide backup just in case Joan's plan went awry. Barbara had also, in a professional capacity, visited the Whip and Cuff, and she was comforted by the feel of her Webley-Vickers in it's shoulder holster.