Justin's mouth went to shape the words 'holy fuck,' but somehow they died in his throat.

His immediate thought was that somehow his girlfriend had shown up at the door. Being a smart guy, he quickly realised that such a scenario was impossible. It was only souls that got transferred, not bodies, as evidenced by all the switching and swapping of forms that had gone on between the two dimensions. He had woken up in another place and body, after all, not just another place. It would make no sense if after all this body swapping she had shown up in her own body.

The other big hint was that the woman in front of him might have been a brunette but her hair was still far too light to be his girlfriend's. Hers was a dark chocolate shade; this was very chestnut and still had some hints of blonde to it.

"So am I going to stand here all night or are you going to let me in?"

Justin shrugged in disbelief and walked dumbly back into the house, leaving her to enter at her leisure and close the door behind her. Walking back into the lounge, he saw the photo albums open on the table and hurriedly stashed them under the sofa, not wanting her to see. He'd had the basketball highlights muted on the TV in front of him as he perused the pictures, but now he put the sound on and sat back down. He blinked rapidly as he watched - not a second of it was actually registering in his brain but he didn't want Renee to think he'd been thinking about her in the slightest.

To say that he was freaked out would be akin to saying that Iraq was a bad situation - it didn't even begin to cover it.

He had thought it was bad enough when she'd kissed him. It had been extremely confusing and had made him feel horribly guilty for reasons that were somewhat beyond his understanding. Claire's reaction wasn't especially comforting and he wasn't sure he was going to forget the look on his girlfriend's face any time soon either. She'd been far more accepting than he could ever have expected, but he knew her too well and he guessed she was probably still mad at him. Justin had to understand that - he after all was still seething at the fact that she'd kissed somebody who wasn't him and it wasn't even like he blamed her for it.

It was only as Renee entered the room that he remembered he didn't have his shirt on, and hurriedly he grabbed the sweatshirt he'd discarded from the back of the couch and yanked it on. He was now going to be far too warm, as if he wasn't uncomfortable enough, but he didn't want her seeing too much of him at that second.

She was far too casual as she sat down on the couch; as soon as she did he wanted to kick himself for failing to take the armchair where she couldn't get next to him. Justin tried to look her up and down without appearing to take his gaze off of the television - it was very awkward and he could feel his eye muscles straining. The hair looked better, he had to admit; it was still dry and flyaway, not in good condition after all the bleaching it had taken, but the darker hair hid it better. He also noted with alarm that she was wearing a very preppy outfit which was far more like his Renee than her; he couldn't see how she could possibly realise that however, so he had to let her off.

"Didn't you and Trace go to this game today? Or technically yesterday?" Renee gestured to the screen, an amused smile playing on her lips.

"Umm…" He did a double take and realised that she was correct. Trace had called, he had wanted to get out of the house, and while they had been out he had been surreptitiously feeding him tips on getting the clothing line up and running. "Yeah, we did."

"So… why are you watching it now?"

Justin grunted in response. "There's nothing else on and I have insomnia."

"Oh, I know how you get."

"Umm, no you don't." He couldn't help the slightly biting way he formed the words. "You know how he gets."

"What's the diff?" She smirked. He wasn't sure why, but he found the expression very irritating.

"There's a fucking big one."

Renee sighed wearily, fingers pushing themselves through her hair. She was finding herself fiddling with her hair a lot, not used to the shorter length or the new colour she saw every time she picked it up to play with it. She hadn't expected Justin to be so confrontational - she knew their last meeting had finished in an awkward place, but he'd never been snippy with her in his short tenure in her reality. It was bruising to her already beaten ego that he was taking such offence to the whole thing.

"Hmm. Strikes me more and more that there's not much difference at all."

"Well if you will purposely try and remove all differences… nice hair by the way. Wonder where you got that idea."

Renee rolled her eyes. "It's hair, Justin. I just felt like a change, where's the big?"

"Oh, okay," he said pleasantly before narrowing his eyes at her. "You're blonde for like a decade and then just so happen to try and dye your hair my girlfriend's colour and it just so happens to come right after you throw yourself at me? How fucking stupid do you think I am? Oh, and so you know, you totally missed the shade."

It was amazing how quickly he could pass through the shock and denial stage right onto anger. Possibly this was a mere symptom of the already dangerous level of frustration he was experiencing, but Justin had just about had enough. He had less than twenty four hours to go until somebody else decided his future for him, he felt powerless and helpless and the last thing he needed was for her to go off the deep end like this. Between Britney, Cameron and this one, he was beginning to wonder if he had some pestilent touch that made women crazy. Maybe the other Renee was better off without him if that was so - he liked her sane.

It was the mention of his girlfriend that managed to raise the reaction he was looking for; subconscious it might have been, but he was looking for a fight.

"Oh, wait, I forgot. Everything in this universe is about her, right? Everything's fucking about her; it could never be about me, right? God forbid I've wanted to make some changes for a while, fuck no, I'm just trying to be like Little Miss Perfect." She sang the words mockingly, like she was telling a child a nursery rhyme.

"Well if I were you I'd have gone for some intensive therapy rather than the bottle," he sniped.

"Oh because she's so fucking perfect, right? She already humped my boyfriend once before, how do you know she isn't RIGHT THIS SECOND, huh?"

"Because maybe you managed to fuck up your relationship, but ours was going swimmingly until the idiot boyfriend you screwed over decided to hijack my existence!"

"And what the fuck do you know about my relationship, huh?

"Well you haven't stopped bitching about it since I got here, so I'm kind of under the impression that it stinks." He smiled mockingly at her.

"God you're a stupid asshole."

"Wait, I'm sorry…" he pretended to scratch his ear, "remind me, was it you trying to seduce me the other day or did I just dream that?"

"Hah, you probably have dreamed about that."

"Oh you fucking wish…"

"Now, now, children!"

With an unusually dramatic puff of smoke, Claire had appeared before them. She looked ready for battle, in a very severe black outfit that made her ghostly pallor look even paler. Her stance was firm, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, and her head tipped to the side in a very teacher like position. The left eyebrow was raised firmly and she looked as unimpressed as Justin had ever seen her.

"You gotta love it," Claire said in a dangerously bright voice. "One minute you're trying to put your tongue down his throat and the next you're getting into bitch fights with him. And don't you even try to look smug Timberlake." She had pre-empted the smirk that was rising on his face. "You could use a time out yourself, brat."

"She started it…"

"Did not!"

"My GOD I feel like I'm dropping IQ points just listening to you." Claire rubbed her temples despairingly. If she wasn't dead, she'd probably have a stress headache coming on. "Does somebody want to tell me what the fuck is going on here? Starting with you!" She rounded on Renee unexpectedly. "What the hell did you do to your hair?"

"There's a multi million dollar hair care industry and yet one girl dying her hair is surprising?" Renee protested.

She was met with an impatient and disbelieving look. It was the rancour behind Claire's eyes that gave it away. "I know secrets of life and death, sweetheart, do you think for one measly second I'm going to buy that bullshit?"

"I wanted a change!"

Justin wanted to make a snippy comment about this constant desire for change being her biggest problem, but Claire looked scary and he thought that for once in his life silence would be a good idea. It had startled him precisely how quickly their conversation had devolved into childish bickering, but he couldn't help it. It was a dreadful tendency of his and one his mother always scolded him for, but when frustrated he could get a little bratty. He was not however admitting that to Claire or apologising to Renee, because she really had started it. Nobody had made her try to hijack his girlfriend's position.

He refused to entertain the niggling thought poking at him, the one that pointed out he'd considered letting her.

"Yes, well, if I thought for one second you were actually making positive change for yourself on your own terms I'd be thrilled," Claire barked at her. "Trying to clone his girlfriend is not helping. And also fairly dumb considering you never met her and have no idea how she even is."

"What happened to 'we're all the same at the core,' huh Claire?" Renee stood up and faced off with her, imitating both her stance and her steely eyed glare. "Funny how your story changes every time it suits you. Fuck, do you even know a damn thing like you claim to or are you still just pretending to know all and then disappearing every time I call you on it? We're not dabbling in high school gossip any more Clara, so you pretending to know shit doesn't work any more."

This might have stung incredibly, had Claire not seen straight through it. She'd been a spirit guide long enough to recognise somebody who was desperately trying to hit back because they were flailing.

"For somebody not playing at high school any more, sweetheart, you're doing a crappy job at playing grown up. Do you honestly think that trying to hurt me or even him is helping right now? You've been doing this far too long, pushing people away and hurting them because you don't know what the hell it is you want. Time to wake up and will you SIT DOWN, Timberlake, I haven't finished with you."

Justin threw his hands up in the air with an exasperated sigh, flinging himself back down on the couch. Their little Mexican stand-off appeared to have nothing to do with him and his insomnia was giving way to a desperate desire to go to bed and hide under the covers. He really wanted to leave.

"Okay so you," she pointed at Renee, "stop trying to be somebody you're not and sabotaging everything and everyone that's been good to you and YOU," she rounded on Justin, "let's talk about this whole 'you hurt me so I hurt you' mentality you got going, because as life philosophies go it stinks."

"I don't have a…"

"Yes you fucking do!" She jabbed a finger at his chest, eliciting a small squeal of protestation. "You admitted it! Your whole disgust at the wonderfully passive aggressive shit he's been doing to her is because it's hard to look in a mirror and see something you don't like. And yet here you are, doing the same shit, hitting back at her because she's confused you. For God's sake, I thought you were meant to be the sane one! My only comfort in this whole thing has been knowing that at least you had your head on straight and you're just as bad as those two!"

"Two, huh?" Renee spat. "Of course, even you think she's perfect."

"Oh will you grow up and stop obsessing about her? This is not about her and never has been - it's just you transferring all your issues and as usual BLAMING ANYBODY BUT YOURSELF!"

The yelling took both Renee and Justin aback. They were genuinely a little afraid of her in that moment. In movies and on TV whenever a God or somebody powerful got angry, their voice was given a thunderous effect - it was a total cliché. When a ghost was in front of you doing it for real, however, that was somewhat different.

Claire took a number of deep breaths in - she did not breathe and wasn't inhaling any air at all, but it was funny how the habits of the living lingered. Cracking her knuckles - which made no sound, but at least she felt it - she let the tension in her shoulders settle before continuing.

"If anybody is under any delusion that I'm playing here, now is the time to wise up. I ain't got time to play. Whatever this shit is between you, you are going to solve it. NOW. You are going to discuss it and solve it between you - like adults instead of the overgrown brats you're being now. Understood?"

"But…"

"But nothing," she growled at Renee. "You are going to fix this. I suggest you go home and sleep on it and come back here first thing with your grown up hat on. You are going to stop fixating on everything and everyone but yourself and blaming all you problems on them, and he is going to act like the grown ass man he is and actually deal with his feelings instead of lashing out. Okay, is anybody not clear on the plan here?"

Renee's response was to turn on her heel and to stomp out of the house, slamming the front door viciously on the way. Clearly, she had some way to go before dropping the childish behaviour she'd been so guilty of. With her gone the wind seemed to disappear from Justin's sails. All he could do was compulsively rub his hands over his shaved head, looking dazed and somewhat stoned.

"You're one scary lady, you know that?"

Claire couldn't help it; a small laugh left her mouth. "I've been told."

"Note to self, try not to piss you off."

"I don't have time to play, Justin," she repeated.

Thinking of the photo albums he'd stashed under the sofa and the girlfriend he'd been fretting over before her alter ego had shown up, he smiled sadly. "I'm kind of short on the stuff myself."

Briefly Claire considered telling him a decision had been made, but she thought better of it. There was no incentive for him to hash it out with this world's woman if he knew he was leaving, and she really thought he needed to. He needed to for both their sakes.

"Go to bed, Justin." She rubbed her knuckles over his head in admonishment and affection. "Wake up in your more mature guise, okay?"

"Can't promise."

"Try."

"That I can."