He was, Jennifer decided, one of the creepiest men she'd ever come across. It was only a goodnight-have-a-nice-weekend, for God's sake and yet he was treating it as if it was the last chance to touch someone before the death penalty. It wasn't as if she even knew him all that well. Tim, was it?
She pushed him away gently, her tight-lipped smile showing him a boundary had been crossed. "I'll see you on Monday," she said, throwing her handbag over her shoulder and walking briskly out.
Tom watched the office door swing shut on silent, pneumatic closures and looked at his hands. The hug had been long enough to gather the requisite DNA sample. His fingers began to elongate, the skin growing pale as they took on the hue of Jennifer's skin. Moments later Tom was no more and a new Jennifer in a loose-fitting man's suit turned to a computer terminal.
Personnel records would tell her where the other Jennifer lived.