The Shape of Your Face

DISCLAIMER: nope, not mine. too bad.

CHAPTER FOUR:


When Mousse had slid out of his window and vanished into the night, he thought it would be weeks before Shampoo noticed, months before anyone else did and an eternity before someone *cared*. He was wrong, on all three counts.

Shampoo came bouncing down the stairs of the Cat Café with her usual bright empty smile. “Morning, Great-grandmother!” She called, coming into the kitchen. The old woman was stirring a pot on the stove and greeted her with a nod.

“Good morning, great-granddaughter. Take basket, get tables ready for customers.” She jerked her spoon toward a basket filled with silverware and napkins. Shampoo stared at her.

“That stupid Duck Boy’s job! Why Shampoo do *his* work?!”

Cologne leveled a glare at her. “Because great-granddaughter locked door last night, remember?”

“Oh.” Shampoo giggled. She still thought that was funny and wondered where Mousse had been forced to spend the night. “Not worry. Shampoo find.” She unlocked the back door and flung it open. “MOUSSE!” She screamed and stood expecting a blue and white tornado to come running and throw itself at her feet. She waited.

And waited.

And waited a little longer before bellowing again. “STUPID DUCK BOY! COME TO WORK NOW!!!”

Still nothing.

“Great-granddaughter. Customers come soon. You must get tables ready, worry about Duck Boy later.”

Shampoo turned and grabbed the basket, growling under her breath. “Not *worried* about him. Going to *kill* him.” As she grudgingly lay the tables for breakfast, both Amazon women expected a breathless and repentant Mousse to come dashing through the door any moment. Instead they got an unexpected rush of customers. Shampoo was soon run off her high heels trying to wait on every table at once. Her grudge toward Mousse was growing.


*


It had reached epic proportions by late afternoon, when Ranma, Akane and Ryoga made their daily pass for free food. Instead of their usual boisterous rush to ‘their’ table, they just stood and stared.

Shampoo was staggering around the room with a loaded tray, delivering food to tables without an ounce of her usual grace. Gone were her high heels, her huge smile, her perfect clothes. Her hair was a frazzled mess and her outfit was wrinkled. She looked like she was about to drop where she stood. Most astonishing of all, she didn’t realize Ranma was there.

“Miss! Oh, Miss!” A customer called, waving her hand frantically. “Miss, this *isn’t* what I ordered!”

“And this isn’t mine!” A man bellowed, looking angry. “Really, the service around here is usually much better!”

“It certainly is!” Another woman fussed. “My food is cold and this isn’t the drink I wanted.”

Shampoo looked like she was ready to scream. She set the tray down on an unoccupied table and rushed around the room, trying to fix all the screwed-up orders. The others just kept staring at her. They had seen Shampoo help out occasionally when the café was really full, but they had never *ever* seen her attempt to do all the work herself. In the open doorway to the kitchen they could see Cologne faring a little better, though she looked tired and rushed. They eased further into the room and sat at their table.

“Uh... Shamps? What’s going on? Where’s Mousse?” Those seemed to be the wrong choice of words. Shampoo exploded.

“Mousse? Mousse?! DON’T TALK ABOUT STUPID DUCK BOY TO ME!” Then her eyes settled on who she was screaming at and she did an abrupt mood swing. She let her bottom lip quiver, big violet eyes filling with tears. “Ooooooh, Airen! Is terrible! No Duck Boy and poor Shampoo has to do all work!” She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Ranma pulled back, staring down at her with an odd expression on his face.

“No Mousse? What do you mean, Shamps? Where is he?”

“Not know, Airen! No Mousse all day! Call and call and call...”

“Is he in his room?” Akane asked, her voice concerned as she remembered Mousse’s red eyes yesterday. Maybe he *had* been crying.

“Don’t know.” Shampoo’s voice was muffled against Ranma’s neck. “No time to look.” Her words were apparently a catalyst - voices started calling all over the resturant.

“Miss! Oh, Miss, *where* is my food?”

“Check, please! I’ve been waiting ten minutes!”

“Waitress! This *still* isn’t my order!”

Shampoo moaned and got back on her aching feet. She gave Ranma a pathetic look and he squirmed. Akane sighed. “I’ll help you out for a few minutes, Shampoo, while the boys check on Mousse. Maybe he’s sick.” Shampoo looked venemous.

“*Going* to be sick, when Shampoo sees him!” She spun around and flounced away. Akane rolled her eyes and gave the boys a telling look - well. She was going to, but Ryoga was the only one there. Ranma was already halfway up the stairs. Ryoga snickered and followed the younger martial artist.

Ranma was standing inside the doorway to a tiny room, staring. Three other doors were open, one a bathroom and the other two bedrooms full of women’s things. So this room had to be Mousse’s. Ryoga looked inside and winced. He’d seen nicer rooms in sleazy motels. The walls needed paint, the floor was bare, the small bed should have had new mattresses years ago. There were a very few pieces of old clothing and one or two broken, discarded weapons laying in a neat stack on a wobbly little side table. Another box apparently full of pictures of Shampoo and some weird odds and ends was on the floor beside it. Other than that the room was barren.

“This is... something’s wrong.” Ranma said slowly. “Where’s his stuff? I know he has more than that.” He waved a hand at the rubbish on the little table. Ryoga saw a piece of paper on the bed and strode forward. He picked up a scribbled note and read it, Ranma peering over his shoulder.

Cologne,

It seems I need training in a new area. I will be leaving in search of such training.

Mousse

“That’s it?” Ranma squeaked, grabbing the paper and turning it over as if there would be more writing hidden on the back. Ryoga frowned right along with him.

“It does seem a little short. They’re pretty much the only family he has, aren’t they? And not a word to Shampoo...”

“Something’s *really* wrong.” Ranma agreed. “I thought he was acting weird last night.”

“You saw him last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Where? What was he doing?”

“Uh, just down the street. He was staring at a wall.”

“Ranma - that’s odd, even for Mousse. Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah. I asked if he was okay and he said he was fine. He asked if *I* was okay.”

“Well.” Ryoga scratched the back of his head. “Obviously Mousse has been kidnapped for reasons unknown and you met a replacement. Mousse would never ask if you were okay. Wonder why the replacement didn’t show up for work?”

“Maybe because he realized how much he’d have to do?” Ranma snorted. “No, Ryoga, it was Mousse I was talking to. He *was* acting a little odd, but he didn’t look any different. Except for...”

“Except for what?”

“Well, he had new glasses. Nice frames.” Ryoga eyed him and he blushed. “What?”

“Nothing. If he had new glasses, maybe he had been to Dr. Tofu’s? Didn’t he look like his eyes were bothering him when we ate here last night?”

“Yeah. Maybe we should go see Dr. Tofu?”


*


Dr. Tofu gazed at them over the rims of his reading glasses, his expression stern. “Now boys - you know I can’t go around handing out a patient’s confidential information. Not even to friends.”

Ranma gave him his best ‘puppy eyes’ look. “Can you at least tell us if he was here yesterday?”

The doctor frowned. “I am not sure that would be...”

“He’s missing.” Ryoga’s rough voice cut in.

“Missing?!”

“He’s gone. All of his things are gone and no one knows where he is.”

Dr. Tofu stayed silent for a very long moment, staring down at his desk. Finally he spoke. “Young men, I am not quite sure why Mousse has gone missing. I do know that there are things going on in his life that he has chosen not to tell anyone. I don’t know the reason *why* he was - extremely adamant - about no one knowing, but he was.” He leaned over and took a file out of a nearby cabinet, started tapping it gently on the edge of the desk. “You know I can’t let you see what’s in this file?” Both the boys sitting in front of his desk nodded. “Hmm. Well, would you like some tea?”

They stared at him blankly.

He nearly groaned and lay the file down on the desk with obvious slowness, then lifted his hands away just as slowly. “I asked if you’d like me to... go into the other room... and make you some tea?” Ryoga was still goggling at him, eyes and mouth round. Ranma seemed to be getting it - he nodded slowly.

“Yes... tea would be... nice.”

“Good!” Dr. Tofu got up and walked out, leaving the folder laying innocently on the desktop. Ranma waited until the door closed behind him, then he pounced on it.


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AN - Just another quick kinda 'disclaimer' - I in no way think it's right for a doctor to share confidential info. It was just for the story!