After searching through what seemed to be hundreds of rooms Nick finally found one that seemed like there might be something of value to him... an office.

He caught a glimpse of the clock as he entered through the door and his brow furrowed, "Ten-thirty?" he questioned curiously, "They can't be meeting for dinner this late," he reasoned. He took a look around the expansive office, wondering why on earth a person would need an office in their house quite this big. It was as large as his old master bedroom he figured with a sprawling oak desk, filing cabinets, and even a sitting area with couches and a coffee table. Nick was pretty sure that behind one of those walls was a bar, and behind one of those paintings there was a safe full of dirty money, but neither of those he was particularly interested in.

As he scratched his brow in thought he looked at the photos on the wall, seeing one that appeared to be two men cutting the ribbon at a new Italian restaurant, "Restaurant!" he exclaimed with eureka-like enthusiasm, "The maid didn't say that he would meet her for dinner, she said he would be meeting her at the restaurant, he must own it!"

Realizing that time was a precious commodity Nick quickly got to work looking for evidence, but like most business men who dealt in things a little on the shady side this Mr. Antonio had his desk locked up tight.

Nick quickly assessed the large oak desktop, noting that there was not even so much as a computer or calendar in sight, "Afraid of technology?" he asked as if the man were there to answer before reaching his hand through the desk to unlock the drawers from the inside. With a sneaky grin on his face he popped open the drawers seeing that they were full of brown file folders, letters, invoices, and other paperwork.

He quickly started pulling them out, taking a fast skim through them to see if there was anything he found familiar, or felt he may need. It seemed as though most of the files were pretty clean (probably as a precaution in case the authorities should ever decided to wake a look-see at what kinds of things this guy was keeping around,) but one piece of paper caught his eye. It was a list! Not the list, but a list none the less of ships and arrival times, printed out exactly like the one on the back of the matchbook. This one was probably legitimate otherwise he couldn't have seen them going through the trouble of writing out the sneaky ones on the back of a matchbook if they were just going to have it printed out at home. Nick read over the paper, not surprised to see that it was written on Esposito Oils company letterhead. Below the shipping times was an address, of a warehouse, where it seemed Mr. Antonio had an interest in. That warehouse was where he stored all of his restaurant supplies, and where he got his larger shipments, and no doubt some secret ones especially for Esposito.

"That's it that has to be the right place" Nick whispered, finding as many pieces of paper with that letterhead as he could find. As he gathered up the file folders to return them to the drawer they suddenly slipped straight through his fingers and slapped to the floor with an echoing whack.

"Shit," he muttered, not making any effort to be quiet even though unbeknownst to him Toni was standing frozen on the other side of the door.

She had been walking down the hall past the office door when she heard the noise of the paperwork hitting the polished hardwood floor. She carefully tried the door, surprised that it was in fact still locked. She was about to chalk it all up to her overactive imagination, after all she lived in a big old mansion, noises were commonplace, but the desk drawer slamming shut made her more than certain that someone was in there. She pulled out her master key, cautiously approaching the door since she had no idea what she would find on the other side.

Meanwhile Nick was standing over the desk puzzled. Now that he had the papers he had no idea how he was going to get them all out of the house. There was no way no one would noticed a small stack of 8 ½ x 11 making its way out of the house alone and he didn't think he had the strength left in him to try and carry it anyway.

The turning door knob broke him from his contemplation and he gasped as Toni poked her head in the door, slowly entering the room.

"Hello?" she called out to the seemingly empty room, "I know you're there, I heard you, so show yourself!"

Nick watched as she glanced around filing cabinets then finally behind the desk. Toni stood and looked at the papers splayed across the top of the desk. She lightly pushed through them and something seemed oddly familiar and coincidental since her encounter with Brian following her.

As Nick moved much closer to her he watched the hairs on the back of her neck and arms suddenly stand on end.

Toni gasped and whirled around, "Nick?" she struggled to say, feeling ludicrous for even thinking it, "Nick is dead, that’s crazy, you're imagining this," she told herself with false confidence.

Feeling a twinge of malice Nick could no longer fight his urge to bring out his inner Patrick Swayze. He lifted a hand and brushed it down the back of Toni's bare arm, laughing when fresh goose bumps spread like wildfire across her skin.

She cried out in fear, launching herself back against the nearest filing cabinet, her eyes shuffling back and forth across the room, "It was the wind," she told herself but the window was shut tight, "It wasn't real," she said though she knew it was real as day.

Nick hadn't really wanted to scare the life out of her, but he couldn't help but hold resentment against her for his untimely demise. He couldn't deny that a part of him still loved her, but at this point he really didn't like her very much.

Her chest heaved with deep frantic breathes as she waited for something awful to happen. She could feel her body temperature lowering and it was only proof to her that she was not alone in the room.

"Nick? Is that really you?" she whispered, not really expecting a reply, "You don't know how sorry I am for everything that happened. I never meant for you to get hurt...let alone killed. This cop, he told me if I ever told anyone what really happened he would make it look like I hired someone to kill you and I would spend the rest of my life in prison. I had to pretend like nothing happened and move on; you can't imagine how hard that was for me. I had to pretend like I didn't miss you, and feel responsible. I really did love you. I still love you now."

Nick was moved by her words, feeling sorry that she too had to suffer through everything that had happened. He watched tears slip down her cheeks and he sighed, "I forgive you," he said to what he thought was deaf ears but the sudden look of sheer horror on Toni's face told him otherwise.

She let out a scream, covering her mouth wide eyed, "Nick?!" she squeaked out, her eyes growing bigger the more terrified she became. She tried to back up further into the filing cabinet to get away from the ghostly version of her former lover standing before her. With cheetah-like speed she made a break for the door, not seeing the small African elephant statue propped against the desk. The statue was just enough to trip her and send her flying through the air and to the floor, her head soundly smacking against an antique coffee table.

"Oh my god!" Nick yelled out in shock, rushing over to the girl on the floor, "Toni!" he tried to revive her but with his mind racing he couldn't seem to find a pulse. He grabbed a glass coaster from the coffee table and held it beneath her nose, thus confirming his worst suspicions.

"Oh shit," he moaned, "I think she's dead! Oh, I know! I'll do CPR!" he nodded with his expert idea, setting up his hands over her heart before realizing it was not that great of an idea, and kind of a lost cause, "What am I doing? I don't breathe."

With a heavy sigh Nick sat down next to the body, wondering how the hell he was supposed to get his information and get to that restaurant if his guide, his ride, was lying dead on the floor. Surely their entire operation would be compromised if Mr. Antonio was preoccupied with the death of his fiancé.

"I guess a broken neck is better than life in prison," he said down to the woman, sighing again. Many things raced through his mind including some possibilities of what his options might be at this point in time. He looked down to Toni's still warm body and cautiously passed his arm into her, watching as the deceased jerked in response, "That's it," he gasped, "When I walked through Brian he had to make the conscious effort to keep walking, to pass through me, but what if he hadn't been able to? This is why I'm really here, I know it!"

As morbid as it seemed, and felt, Nick went with his gut and laid down on the floor next to Toni, closing his eyes firmly before rolling onto her... into her.

When he opened his eyes he was disappointed. It must not have worked. He was still himself. He heard his voice in his thoughts; his eyes looked out at the world, but those most definitely weren't his delicate feminine hands, or his smooth shapely legs.

Nick laughed aloud a higher more femininely enhanced voice being what resonated through the room, "It worked! I'm her!" he exclaimed, getting up to give a few triumphant victory jumps, pumping his tiny hands in the air. His feet came back to the floor and he was surprised he was able to keep himself from breaking an ankle in Toni's extravagant stilettos since he was so preoccupied with amusedly watching his supple bosom bounce with every jump thanks to the gift of gravity.

"Now that was a feature I was hoping came standard," he grinned mischievously, having to sincerely fight the urge to test out his new body further.

As Toni he quickly gathered up his papers (unable to his excitement at being able to pick things up without deep concentration) and locked the room back up just as it had been before. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and quickly adjusted his hair, not wanting it to look like he had just fallen and broken his neck or anything. He wiped a drop of blood from Toni's hairline, making sure she looked perfect as always before he was seen in public.

"I do believe I have a date to get to," (S)he grinned, walking haphazardly down the hall, dangerously perked atop a pair of five inch heels.