TO DIE FOR: THE FEMININE MISTAKE PART 4: A DATE WHICH WILL LIVE IN INFAMY by BKWillis The conference began about as inauspiciously as anyone could expect. "Hey, look! It's Heathcliff!" Number One allowed himself a slight smirk. Perhaps there were a few laughs to be had from this meeting after all, judging by the way that name made Catbert's fur stand up. "No, Tyson. It's Garfield." Number One's smirk promptly vanished at the sound of David's voice. He had business to attend to with that boy, oh yes. He gingerly touched the bandage on his head as he motioned the WANKERs into the room. "Boys, this is Number Five," he said, indicating the cat. "He'll be in charge of handling your budget from now on, so I want you to explain to him _all_ about how you went about buying that 'car'. And I use the term in its loosest sense." Catbert gave him a questioning look. "Is there some irregularity in the finances?" he asked. "You be the judge of that, _boss_. You're in charge, so it's your call." Number One seized David's arm in a painful grip and shoved the protesting boy toward the door. "I have important business with Daniel, here..." The two stepped outside, Number One cracking his knuckles as they went, leaving the other three WANKERs to make their explanations to the sadistic feline. ---- "Gggekkh... uggrrgghh... gggllaaahhk..." David's eyes started to roll back in his head, and Number One eased up the pressure on his neck just enough for him to get a single, short breath, then resumed throttling him. It was a fairly impressive sight, had there been any witnesses: Number One held young David against the wall in a two-handed grip, keeping a body half-again his own weight suspended a good six inches off the ground. "You utter little turd," the psychopathic Southerner spat. "What in the name of God's grandmother were you doing? You almost _killed_ me-- I mean, that girl!" He bounced David's skull off the wall a couple of times. "Hhhggkk... ukkkhh..." David was too busy asphyxiating to form coherent sentences. "Worthless bastard!" He shook the helpless boy like a rag doll. "Bad enough that you nearly kill... that girl. But now you've gone and ruined _my_ reputation by shooting the wrong person and then runnning off like a scared rat!" Number One conven- iently overlooked that it was his own plan that went awry to begin with, but he wasn't much in the mood for an equitable sharing of blame at the moment. David's struggles subsided as everything began to fade out. Number One let him slide down the wall and forced the pudgy WANKER to his knees. One hand still locked around his throat, Number One tilted the boy's face up with the other. "Give me one single reason why I shouldn't wring your neck like a chicken's for what you did over at the 'Round!" Someone was watching over David Ogden that day. He was about two seconds away from joining his ancestors in the Great Dark Beyond, and managed to gasp out only a single croaking word. As it happened, it was the only word that could have conceivably saved his life. "...crow..." Number One froze in mid-neck twist, his hands loosening their death grip. David gratefully sucked in great lungfuls of air as Number One knelt in front of him, an oddly intense look on his face. "Did you say, 'crow'?" he asked. David nodded. "Tell me," Number One said with peculiar gentleness, "what did the crow have to do with it?" David told him. ---- "I don't think Bill the Cat was real pleased with what we told him," Tyson muttered worriedly as he, Eric, and Darren stepped outside. "Really?" Darren asked in genuine puzzlement. "Why do you say that?" "It was kind of a clue when he coughed a hairball in your face." "Huh. And I thought everything went rather well." Darren gave a shrug that indicated his absolute inability to deal with reality on any level. "What do you think he meant when he said that about 'a fate worse than death for the car dealer'?" Eric asked. "Nothing to do with us, I'm sure," Darren answered. He stopped walking abruptly, causing the others to bump into his back. "Hey. What do you suppose _that's_ about?" In front of them, next to the side wall of the building, David and Number One were crouched down, deep in conversation. David appeared to be rather shakily explaining something, while their sometime boss listened with an increasingly wintry scowl on his face. "You think David's about to get it?" "Better him than us, Tyson," Eric replied with somewhat cowardly pragmatism. The three watched, anxious to see if a good butt-kicking was in the offing. It was therefore something of a surprise (and disap- pointment) when Number One, instead of smacking young David around in his usual fashion, simply nodded thoughtfully as the boy finished his explanations. What was even more unexpected was when he gave the boy a pat on the shoulder, a strangely distracted look on his face. ---- "That's about what I figured, Desmond," Number One muttered distantly. "That's David, sir." "Whatever." Number One absently gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder, clearly deep in thought, and dark thoughts, at that. David watched the other man's face out of the corner of his eye, afraid to be caught looking at him. David Ogden may not have been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he was no fool when it came to self-preservation, and the way Number One's jaw was clenched and lips twisted denoted that violence was soon to come. "So, umm, does that mean you aren't going to kill me, sir?" he asked hopefully. "What? No, no. Not today, anyway..." Not completely reassuring, but a step in the right direction. David allowed himself to relax a little. "So... can I go, now, sir?" Number One was obviously focussed on something else, and he just waved the boy off without looking at him. "Yeah. Take off. No problem." David gratefully got up and took a few steps, when something brought him up short. He turned back to Number One, an uneasy look in his eyes. "Uh, sir? Excuse me? One last thing...?" "Yeah, what?" the other snapped, irritated at the distraction. "I just wondered... That girl. You said I hurt her." David chewed at his lip. "Is she... okay? I'd hate to think I, you know, hurt an innocent person..." Number One regarded him for a moment, almost as if seeing him for the first time, then gave a quick nod. "She's all right, kid," he replied softly, noting the obvious relief on the boy's face. "Just a little banged-up and ornery, but just fine. Here." Number One dug in his pocket and pulled out a $50 bill, which he handed over. "Don't worry. You and Shemp, Larry, and Moe go out and amuse yourselves. Go on. Get." He watched as David fell in with his fellows and the foursome piled into their hideous old car, then he scowled and stalked back inside to deliver a little message. ---- Catbert was rubbing at his temples with a paw when Number One slung the door open and stomped inside. "Where did you manage to find such a gang of morons?" the cat asked with a pained expression. Merely talking to them had left him with the feline equivalent of a migraine, and how in the world Number One could have been dumb enough to trust them with money was a prominent question in his mind. It did not help his mood, then, when Number One snatched him up by the neck and brought him up to nose-to-nose contact. "Where is Lucas?" the man growled. "I don't really see how Number Six's whereabouts are any of your concern, and I might remind you that I am your URK!" The cat fell quiet as Number One clamped down hard on his neck. "Tell me, or I'll kill you," Number One said simply. It was the very plainness of the threat that convinced Catbert that the man was serious. Usually, in their near-constant war of insults and snarls, Number One would make references to tennis racquets or violin strings or the multiplicity of methods by which a feline might be skinned. This time, there was no mockery or one- upmanship in the man's voice, just the plain fact of his words. "Lucas is in the back, on the phone." ---- Lucas Buck held a mint julep in one hand and the telephone in the other, sipping occasionally as he talked. "Uh-huh. So there's nothing in your files that might clue us in who these ADF weirdoes are?" "Not a thing," said the man on the other end. "I've got some of my agents asking around at the FBI and Justice Department to see what they can turn up, but that's slow going. We aren't exactly the most... _trusted_ government agency these days." This last sounded a bit aggrieved, as if the reasons for this were somehow mysterious. "Let me know if anything turns up, Brother Twelve. Also, I'd like to see about bringing some of your men in as backup, if you can get away with it." "Nobody will question my orders, Brother Six. I can send you a couple of Tac Squads, an OV-10, whatever. The only problem will be with making sure that they can keep their mouths shut, but my men get better at that every day. We'll skip jurisdictional issues by claiming it as a 'training liaison exercise', or some such bullshit. We could even write it up as a special deputization to the Trinity County Sheriff's Department." The voice sounded pleased. The sound of footsteps drew Buck's attention. "Hold on a minute, Twelve," he said into the phone. "I think there's about to be a confrontation." He unhurriedly set aside the phone receiver and let his free hand rest inside his coat, near his holster. "Well howdy there, Trannie Oakley," he smarmed as Number One strode into the room. "Always good to see my little switch-hitter. Looks like you got a booboo on your noggin." Number One paid the taunts no heed, but just walked up and glared stolidly into the taller man's face for a long moment. Lucas was expecting some sort of outburst, or possibly even violence, but Number One just regarded him silently without making any sort of move. This was mildly unnerving. "Uh, something you need, Number One?" "I just want to let you know something," the young man said at last in a flat, toneless voice. "Someday soon, all this mess will be over with, and everything will be back to normal. When it is, I am going to personally drive a stake right through your fucking heart." That said, he turned and calmly walked out. Lucas watched him go, then picked the phone back up. "Lucas? Lucas? Are you there? Lucas?" the man on the other end repeated anxiously. "Yeah, Dwight. No problem. I just had a visitor, was all. Our little buddy. We may have to tend to him later." "Ah. Is that why you were wanting some of my men on hand?" "Partly, yes." "Not a problem. I've already got a file on him. 'Dangerous militia terrorist', and all that." Lucas chuckled. "I see. You're setting it up to not only take him out, but get yourself some good press for having done it." "Bingo. ATF needs all of that we can get, these days..." ---- Catbert interposed himself, rather foolishly, between the quietly- seething Number One and the office door. "Number One," he began somberly, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you a severe reprimand in your file for your--" Without breaking stride, Number One punted the cat into the wall. "--behavior," Catbert weakly finished from the hole in the plaster he was now imbedded in. "Outta my way, furball. I've got a date to get ready for." With that rather un-ominous declaration, he stalked out, slamming the door hard enough to shake Catbert free. The cat, against the generally-accepted wisdom, did not land on his feet, but on his head, in a small pile of broken plaster. Catbert coughed out a bit of plaster dust. "I... shall also be... Oww... calling the ASPCA..." ---- "Don't be nervous, Adric. This is a nice girl you're going to meet, not some violent loony." "I know, Ryoko, I know." Adric sighed and ran the comb shakily through his hair. "I just-- I've never been on a real date before." "So, where are you taking her, Casanova?" Wesley chirped. Adric shrugged. "I don't know. I thought I'd just see where she wanted to go and--" "Aaadrrrriiic," Ryoko groaned, "that is _not_ how a date works." "It isn't?" "No! You're the man. You're supposed to be in control of the situation." "I am?" "Yes!" Ryoko fixed him with a weary stare. "You don't have any idea where to take her?" Before Adric could answer, Wesley pulled a small envelope out of his pocket and handed it to him. "We expected something like this," the Starfleet genius explained, "so we planned ahead. Your itinerary is in there, along with expense money." Adric eyed the envelope a little mistrustfully. "So, where am I taking her?" "Nerima." "WHAT?!" "You heard him. Now, about your clothes..." ---- "Why are we doing this again? We could be out having fun somewhere." David turned to fix Darren and the other two with a surprisingly frosty stare. "This is business. And it's important to me." So saying, he turned his attention back to watching This Time Round's parking lot through his binoculars. Darren drew back a little, slightly put off by such a show of real backbone from David, who had thus far always seemed to lack any traits that would mark him as a vertebrate animal. Still, spine or not, this whole scene still seemed a waste of time. "It's important to you that we hide in a drainage ditch?" Eric asked. "I'm watching for someone," David answered. "I'm just follow- ing up on the assignment Number One had me carry out yester- day." David liked being able to say that. It made him feel important, which was something he almost never got to do. "If you three don't want to be here, you can leave. I'll find my way back alone." "Suits me fine," Darren replied instantly. "Give me the money, and we'll be on our way." "That money was entrusted to _me_, Darren." "Well, I'm the leader!" "And _I_ am on special assignment from _your_ boss," David shot back, neatly trumping his friend. He was actually starting to like this chain-of-command business. Darren sulked, unable to come up with a reply. Eric and Tyson sulked as well, more or less just to have something to do. Tyson sighed, bored with sulking after only a few seconds of it. "What are you watching for, anyway?" David started to explain, then bit the words back. Let 'em stew! "That's classified information, Tyson." "Classified?" his fellows chorussed. David nodded, relishing the feeling of having something to hold over their heads. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Darren, Tyson, and Eric looked at one another, impressed. "Was this what Number One was talking to you about outside?" Eric whispered. Now that they were discussing classified opera- tions, whispering seemed appropriate. Since they were on a stakeout, it was anyway, but none of the four really realized that. "You might say that." That wasn't completely untrue, David justified. "Did Number One say how long this 'assignment' would last?" Darren asked. He didn't much care for David being one-up on him like this. "That's classified." The four sat in silence, David never taking his eyes off the parking lot. "By the way," Tyson asked a few minutes later. "What happened to Number One's head? He had a bandage on." "That's classi--" David began automatically, then stopped and scratched at his chins. "I don't know. I forgot to ask him." ---- In the branches of a nearby tree, two camouflaged figures looked out from the concealing foliage and scrim netting, warily eyeing the WANKERs. "What do you think those idiots are up to?" Di asked. Doug grimly replied, "Whatever it is, we'll put a stop to it." ---- A few trees over, a large crow watched the two ADF troopers, somehow managing to look amused in spite of its immobile features. ---- Not too far away, a large, dark-haired man sat in his car, obser- ving WANKERs, ADF, and crow alike on a laptop which was tied in to a CIA surveillance satellite. Frowning, he sipped at his mineral water and mumbled, "Bunch of amateurs." He looked up to see a young woman walking toward him, a hopeful expression on her face. "Excuse me, sir," she stammered nervously, "but, aren't you John Travolta?" The man sighed. He was really coming to hate that question. ---- "Are you sure about this, Ryoko? I mean, _Nerima_? The district voted 'Weirdest Place in Japan' for six years running? The single most chaotic place this side of... well, here?" Adric held the envelope as if it were covered in radioactive fire ants with leprosy. "Well, of course, Addy," the space pirate replied. "Think about this. For one thing, you already know a bunch of people there, people who aren't normally out for your blood. And the PLOT hole that opens next to the Higurashi Shrine is just a short walk from the 'Round, so you won't need a ride. From there, you can go right to Ucchan's, and where could be a better place for you to take her than there? The food's great, and you know Ukyou will spatulate anybody who tries to bother you." Ryoko mimed walloping someone with a two-handed battle spatula, managing to swat Wes on the nose in the process. "Ouch! Watch it, Cat-Eyes!" Wesley had, for whatever reason, taken to calling Ryoko by the name Francois had tagged her with. "Oops. Sorry, kid." Resigned to his fate, Adric opened the envelope and flipped through its contents. Hmm... "Hey! What are these places? 'Arasuji no Benri Theater'? 'Hankosha-san's Karaoke Barbecue'? I've never heard of them." Ryoko whapped him lightly. "Duh, Adric. What's a date without a movie and some karaoke? We got you two tickets to the Arasuji no Benri because it's just a couple of blocks from Ucchan's." She traced the route on the little hand-drawn map Wesley had included. Something about that seemed mildly worrisome to Adric. He pointed to the map. "Isn't that a bit close to the Kuno Mansion?" Wesley peered at the map for a moment, thinking, then shrugged. "Kind of. What's your point?" "My point is that a run-in with Kodachi or her idiot brother or -- God forbid -- the Principal, himself, would be just about the perfect way to ruin a date. Unless, of course, Ember _enjoys_ being poisoned, groped, or having her head shaved." "Just relax, Addy. You worry too much." Ryoko poked him on the nose. "Besides, what makes you think the Kunos or anyone else will care about you being there? They all have other people to obsess over." "Because we're talking about _Nerima_, and that's just the kind of thing that happens there..." ---- Number One stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver, too pre- occupied to notice the way his eyes lingered on her legs as she turned to walk up to This Time Round. "Damn," she thought, "I knew I'd have to watch my back around Five and Six, but I didn't think they'd try to knock me off. Sigh. My life sucks. I've got the ADF out for my blood, my own people plotting against me, a pair of panties crawling up my butt, and Her Holiness doesn't even know I exist. One friend, that's all I ask for. One person who gives a damn whether I live or die. Is that so much? Oh, well. No use hoping for something that ain't gonna happen..." ---- "Aha!" David adjusted the binoculars, bringing the image of the young woman into better focus. That was her, all right. He hadn't really gotten that close a look at her the day before, due to his 'distrac- tion', but the hair and height were unmistakable. Darren yanked the glasses out of his hand. "What are you scoping out there, Davey? Whoa! Babeage! Who's she?" Pawing unsuccessfully for the binoculars, David answered, "That's classified." "You don't know, do you?" "Aheh heh..." Tyson easily snagged the field glasses away from Darren and took a look for himself. "Ooh. She's unquestionably... mammalian." "Huh?" Eric asked, grabbing the binocs for himself. "He means she's got big ol' hooters," Darren answered. "Ah. So she does. Very nice." And lo, there was much lusting. ---- Doug muttered to himself as he watched the activity in the ditch below. "Just try something, idiots. It ain't gonna happen on my watch, no sir..." Diane just sighed, then suddenly stiffened as she felt a strange crawly feeling between her shoulders. If she didn't know better, she'd have sworn they were being watched. She looked around unobtrusively, but the only thing nearby was a large crow that, for some reason, seemed to be glaring hatefully toward the pub. ---- The man who wasn't John Travolta allowed himself a quick smirk. It wasn't an attractive smirk by any stretch of the imagin- ation. It was the sort of smirk you might see on the face of a particularly nasty-minded nine-year-old as he contemplates an anthill with a magnifying glass in one hand and a sack full of firecrackers in the other. "Scurry, little ants," he whispered as he watched on the screen. "Hatch your little plots and fight your little battles and keep each other occupied..." He smirked again, and it was even nastier than before. ---- Number One scanned the crowded pub, looking for Adric's familiar yellow-and-green outfit and not finding it. She quickly quashed the mild disappointment this caused. "Maybe idiot-boy forgot. That would be fine by me, to not have to go through with this stupid project." All the same, she kept looking, finally spotting the unmistakable blue-green mass of Ryoko's hair across the room. "Hey, Miss Ryoko," she called as she walked over, "have you seen-- huh?" She stopped in her tracks as the young man sitting across from Ryoko turned to her. "Adric sugar... is that you?" "Heh. Hi, Ember," he replied, fidgetting. "Whoa, he actually looks kind of normal," the half-girl thought. Someone with a modicum of sense had evidently picked him out some clothes and forced him at gunpoint to change out of his old 'banana-suit'. He now had on a simpler outfit of jeans, button- down shirt, and a pair of shiny black engineer boots, which went a long way toward making him look less like the Dork from Beyond the Stars and more like an ordinary, if slightly clueless, teenager. "You, ah, look really nice," he said after a mild poke from Ryoko. "Thanks, sugar. So do you." Or at least better than you did... He grinned, appearing to gain a little confidence. "Shall we?" he asked, standing and sweeping an arm toward the door. ---- "Target sighted once more," David muttered. He'd heard that in a movie somewhere, and it seemed appropriate. "Who's that she's with?" Eric asked over his shoulder. "Dunno. Can't tell yet. Some dark-haired kid." The WANKERs watched from their improvised Observation Post as the redhead in the short skirt and her escort walked toward a small path that led away from the road to town, chatting amiably. David focussed his glasses on the girl's face, getting his first clear view of her. He noted with a slight twinge of conscience that she had a small bandage on her temple, neatly obscured by the fall of her hair. Shifting a bit, he turned to the young man, hoping he'd turn his head a little more so he could see his face... "Christ on a mo-ped! It's the Dweeb!" ---- In the tree, Doug gave a quiet but heartily satisfied laugh. "The babe-magnet strikes again. I feel so _vindicated_!" Diane sighed. ---- Wesley looked at Ryoko. "Well, he's really doing it. He's actually on a date." "Mm-hm," she replied, her eyes on the clock. "Don't you feel... I don't know, kind of a sense of something, like it's the end of an era, or something like that?" "Paradigm shift is the concept you're looking for." "Maybe." Ryoko shrugged. "I was trying for something less corporate-buzzword sounding, but that'll do." She kept watching the clock for a moment, then stretched and stood up. "Well, I suppose that's enough of a head start. Let's get going, Trek-boy." "Huh? Where are we going?" "Duh. After Adric, of course. What kind of friends would we be if we just left him to the winds of fate? Now c'mon, and let's go meddle..." ---- "So, what do you suppose the deal is, here?" "Hmmmmm..." Darren rubbed his chin, looking either very thoughtful or like he was trying to wipe off a gravy stain. "Could it be that maybe that girl is Adric's girlfriend?" he said at long last. "Sacrilege!" declared Eric. "He's supposed to be trying to get Our Lady." "And she's too cute for him, anyway," David added. "Not as cute as Her Holiness, though, riiight?" Tyson hissed dangerously. "I dunno..." David mumbled, not really thinking. "Blasphemer!" shouted the other three, simultaneously walloping the pudgy WANKER upside the head. "Most Holy Executioner," Darren said gravely to Eric, "administer the Punishment to this heretic, that he might rethink his error." Wordlessly, the hulking enforcer stepped behind David and, with a ferocious heave, hauled the waistband of the boy's underwear up nearly to the back of his neck. "Hggrrk!" explained David, as he promptly fell over and began trying to _rectify_ the Atomic Wedgie to which he'd just been subjected. The others continued their discussion. "Anyway," resumed Eric, "what do we do about the little two- timing creep?" "Hang on a minute," Darren said in the tones of a man who has just had a sudden revelation. "This is a _good_ thing. We don't want him after Nyssa, right? So, Adric having a girlfriend, even though it violates some Universal law, plays right into our hands, right?" "Hey, yeah! That's right!" "I knew there was some reason we let you be leader! Good call!" "Grrrhhrrrkk..." Catching a glimpse of movement, Darren took up the field glasses that David was still too wedgified to use and trained them on the pub. "Hey. It looks like somebody's following Adric. Some geeky-looking kid and a chick with green hair." The squeaky little wheels of Darren's brain began to twitch, eventually manag- ing to actually turn a little. An observer with eyesight capable of seeing into the metaphorical range would have noticed a tiny, low-watt bulb flicker to dim life over his head as his mind made the 'logical' connections. "They must be evil-doers, out to ruin Adric's date! We must stop them at all costs!" ---- Doug and Diane noted the increase in activity among the WANKERs below them, and instantly became on-guard. "What could they be up to?" Diane whispered. "Let's wait and see," Doug replied, fingering the trigger of his Uzi. "Aha! They're moving." Two sets of binoculars tracked the foursome as they abruptly set off in the direction of the path that led to the Nerima PLOT hole. Doug's hand clenched, but fortunately the safety was on his Uzi, otherwise a nearby crow would have been blown to pieces. "They're after Adric," he hissed. "They must be out to ruin his date! We must stop them at all costs!" Unfortunately, by the time the pair had extricated themselves from their camouflage net and climbed out of the tree, the WANKERs were long since gone. Grimly, they set off for Nerima in hot pursuit. ---- It was about the time the final group of Adric-chasers was setting off down the path that a new group arrived at the 'Round. "I really appreciate you giving me and the Loyal Crew a lift, Doc." "Think nothing of it, Captain," the Fifth Doctor assured the burly privateer. "It was the least we could do, after your timely rescue of us on Delos." "No problem, Doc, although in all honesty I'm not sure how much rescuing you needed. Not with that berserk little cutey of yours." Marlowe jerked a thumb at Nyssa, who was some- what embarassedly listening to Sister Roxanne attempt to talk her into joining the Church. "She managed to impress a Venjari, and you know how hard _that_ is for a humanoid to do. And I've never seen Roxy so taken with someone before." His beard split in a toothy grin. "Gods, yes, I was impressed!" Tharon the Venjari blurted. Most of the bar patrons turned to look, not too used to the sight of nine-foot tall, four-armed, silver-haired black giants. "Even if the opposition was pretty sorry, for a mere child to reap the field like that is the mark of a true warrior!" His four eyes glared into the middle distance, and his voice became reverent. "When the Soulblade is found and Army of Heroes assaults Heaven, I should expect to see her right there in the first wave!" The Ogron crewman grabbed his shoulder and shook him out of his reverie. "Silver-hair not talk about religion," he admonished. "Pierre not wanting to break up fight between silver-hair and crazy nun again, yes?" "Actually," the Doctor said sheepishly to the Captain, "she's not a hero, she's just a homicidal maniac." Marlowe shrugged imperturbably. "So are the Venjari. For that matter, so are the Order of Saint Wanda-Sue, but don't tell Roxy I said that. Birds of a feather." Eventually, seating was obtained for the entire group of twenty, largely due to Sister Roxanne's tossing a booth's worth of drunk Peladonians down the cellar stairs. A moment later, Francois came over to take their orders. "Loony pirate people best not making trouble, or else," he growled harshly. He had taken the precaution of tucking a meat cleaver into his apron, and he made sure they all saw it. Pierre the Ogron stared at him. "Francois? Is you?" Francois blinked, thrown off his 'badass mode' for a moment. "Yes, am Francois. Why you..." He let the question trail off, cocking his shaggy head to one side. "Cousin Pierre?" Grinning, the smaller Ogron walked over and punched Francois in the stomach, hard enough to double him over. "Francois!" he yelped happily. "Not seeing you for ages! How is?" Francois straightened up, smiling wide enough to show all his teeth, of which he had an impressive number. "Little Pierre!" he exclaimed as he slugged his cousin on the jaw. "So good to see! How Uncle Antoine and Auntie Bernadette?" The two Ogrons wandered away, happily chattering about family and beating the living Hell out of each other. "I guess this means we have to order at the bar," said Kaye, taking a moment from her non-stop mooning over Tegan. The Doctor watched the Ogrons and shook his head. "French names, but they act like bloody Scotsmen..." ---- With a soft 'pop', space closed behind the two travellers as they stepped out of the swirling silver PLOT hole. "So, this is the fabled Nerima?" Ember asked, looking around. "Is it not what you expected?" asked Adric. The redhead shrugged. "From all the stories about this place, I expected something a little more... chaotic." Indeed, everything seemed as placid and normal as one would expect in a well-kept Japanese city. The sun was just beginning to sink below the roofs of the prim little apartment blocks as children wandered home from school, a street vendor sold noodles from his yattai (food cart), and birds sang in the trees at the small shrine they stood beside. "Weelll..." Adric began with a nervous chuckle, "this is one of the calmer parts of the district. Most of the _real_ weirdness goes on closer to the High Schools or over near the Mishima Heavy Industries building. Even so, this area sees its share of strangeness. You'll notice that nobody seems particularly alarmed at two foreigners suddenly appearing out of nowhere." In fact, Ember had been wondering about that, and was about to say so, when their attention was drawn by the sounds of a raging argument just over their heads. "Put me down, Inu-Yasha!" screamed a very pretty young girl at the man who was carrying her. "What if someone sees me?" "You think I like holding on to you, you ugly moron?" the man shot back. "I'll put you down as soon as we get back through the well!" The two whooshed past and into the shrine, still yelling at one another. Ember looked at Adric evenly. "That guy just now. Was it just me, or was he flying?" "He was." "And did he have dog ears on top of his head?" "He did." "And was he carrying a schoolgirl in one hand and a rusty old sword in the other?" "He was." The redhead smiled. "Just making sure. So, where to, sugar?" "This way," Adric replied as they set off down the street. "The place is called 'Ucchan's'. You _do_ like okonomiyaki, don't you?" "Never had it, but if you say it's good, that's enough for me." They walked on, quiet for a time as each was occupied with their own thoughts. Ember: "Expect weirdness. Have to remember that. Is that an attack chopper up there? How close should I stand to Adric? What if he tries to hold my hand? Sick. But I _am_ on a date with him. Maybe he won't try. But what if he does? This place is kind of nice, once you get used to it. I don't have any pockets to stick my hands in, so he might try to hold one of them. Maybe I can get some Pocky while we're here. Always wanted to try that stuff. Who's that guy in the mask and cape, and why does he have 'STRIKE' on the front of his shirt? It's sort of relaxing, hanging around with somebody who doesn't want me dead. I expected him to be twerpier-acting than this. I just hope he doesn't try to hold my hand..." Adric: "Must remember to expect weirdness. Is that an attack chopper? I hope I'm not making her uncomfortable, standing this close. Should I hold her hand, or something? I feel awk- ward, so what else is new? She has pretty eyes. But, I think I like green eyes better. No, I don't, either. I didn't think that. Blue eyes are fine. And, there's nothing wrong with red hair, either, so quit imagining it as brown! What's wrong with me? Am I so screwed-up that I spend my first date with a gorgeous girl thinking about somebody else? Don't answer that! Should I try holding her hand? How do you know when to do stuff like that, anyway...?" At that moment, their thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a figure in pink-and-white power armor being thrown through the building they were next to. Most of the nearby pedestrians merely stepped around the rubble, entirely too used to this sort of thing. "Excuse me!" hailed a second pink-armored person who came trotting up to them. The two could just make out the MHI logo beneath the dust and dents on the figure's chest. "Did you just see a woman dressed like me go through here?" Adric sighed, recognizing the voice. He pointed at the ruined wall. "Arisa just got thrown through there, Kyouko." The figure swept off its helmet, revealing the face of a harried- looking young woman with pale brown hair. "Adric?" she asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you at first." She gave him a weary smile. "Sorry to rush off, but Arisa will be upset if I leave her buried in the rubble for too long." She turned and dove into the ruins, shouting, "Arisa! Where are you?" "Well, that was interesting," Number One deadpanned as they left. "It gets better," Adric replied with a bit of grim humor, when they received another interruption in the form of a bicycle that came shrieking to a stop right in front of them. "Hi there, Adric-san!" squealed the magenta-haired teen on the bike. She was extraordinarily cute and seemed to almost radiate an aura of cheerfulness, dampened only slightly by the fact that she looked as if she'd just spent the last two hours being shot at. She patted a bit of soot out of her skirt. "How are you and your friend doing?" Adric grinned, the girl's good cheer being remarkably infectious. "We're just fine, Nuku-san," he answered, returning her honorific in kind. "This is my friend Ember Ashe. Ember, this is Atsuko Natsume." "Everyone calls me Nuku-Nuku," the girl replied as she shook Ember's hand. "Can you help me, Adric-san?" she asked with a cute little pout. "Nuku-Nuku was playing with Kyouko-san and Arisa-san, and Arisa-san got flung somewhere down this street. Nuku-Nuku needs to find them and tell them it's almost time for my shift at work, so I can't play with them any more today." Adric pointed down the block again. "Just around there. Look for the smashed wall." "Thank you, Adric-san! Nuku-Nuku hopes you two have fun today! Byebye!" This last was yelled over her shoulder as she took off at an utterly ridiculous speed on her bike. "Why, Adric sugar, I had no idea you knew so many interesting people." "I do spend a good bit of time here," Adric replied as they walked. "Sometimes, it's nice to just be around people who aren't out for my blood, you know?" "Yeah," Number One answered, too softly for him to hear. "I'm starting to realize that..." ---- Ryoko sighed happily as she and Wesley stepped out of the PLOT hole. "Ah, it's good to be home, Wes!" "But, you don't live in Nerima," he pointed out. Ryoko gave him a 'quiet, you' look. "No, but it _is_ Japan and it's not that far to the Masaki Shrine. Besides, Mihoshi and Kiyone have an apartment here in the city, and that's like a home- away-from-home." "Somehow, I can't quite think that Kiyone sees it that way..." "Will you just lay off, already? When we go visit Federation Space, you can color your perceptions however you like, but for now, it's my turn, okay?" "Whatever you say, Cat-eyes." A little grouchily, the two set off in the direction of Ucchan's, pausing for a moment to let two battered-looking women in pink power-armor run past, yelling about "getting that android bimbo if it was the last thing they did". "Hey, Arisa!" Ryoko called out mockingly. "Nuku-Nuku kick your butt again, or what?" "Shut up!" screamed the taller, darker-haired woman. "No one mocks the might of Mishima Heavy Industries and its Secretarial Department! And no one better mock Arisa Mitamura, either!" Unfortunately, the mighty Arisa Mitamura was too busy yelling at Ryoko to watch where she was going, and ended up running right into a lamp post. She keeled over, twitching slightly, as Kyouko skidded to a stop and came trotting back to her side. With a put-upon sigh, she leaned down and picked up her semi- conscious cohort, heaving her across her shoulder like a sack of rice. "Poor Arisa gets a little over-enthused, sometimes," she said apologetically as Wes and Ryoko came up. Wesley drily replied, "That's one way to put it." Kyouko smiled tiredly at them, then patted Arisa on the back. "Come on, mighty Warrior Battle-Maiden," she told her partner, "let's get you home and bandaged-up. We've got to be at the office early tomorrow." As they watched her walk away, Wes and Ryoko shook their heads. "You'd think," said Wes, "that after the Orbital Laser incident, those two would have learned to get along with Nuku-Nuku, but no..." "Ah, I suspect it's just their way of letting off steam." Ryoko nodded sagely. "After all, secretaries can be under a lot of stress." "And you'd know this how, since you've never had a real job?" "Wesley, what did we just talk about?" ---- "Welcome to Ucchan's Okonomiyaki! Oh, hi there Adchan!" Ukyou Kuonji, owner and operator of the best darned okonomi- yaki restaurant in Nerima, waved at the new arrivals from behind the grill. "I've got the window table reserved for you, so have a seat, and I'll be right there." "He seems like a cool guy," Ember commented as they sat down. "Um, Ukyou's a girl," Adric said nervously. "You're kidding, right?" Number One stared at the chef for a moment, mentally kicking herself for not watching more 'Ranma 1/2' as preparation for this. Ukyou was, or looked to be, a tallish young man with his hair pulled back into a long ponytail and a manner about his movements that just screamed 'martial artist'. Although, come to think about it, he did have a sort of andro- gynous look about his face. "Not kidding. She dresses like a guy, but she's one-hundred- percent girl, which is more than can be said for _some_ people," Adric said with a laugh. Number One's heart started slam-dancing in her chest. "Ah, meaning _what_, exactly?" she asked a little sickly. ---- In what was beginning to be a rather repetitive pattern, Darren, Tyson, Eric, and David stepped out of the PLOT hole and onto the sidewalk. "What _is_ this place?" demanded Eric as he stared around at the unfamiliar buildings. "Hmmm..." Darren looked around at the shops, at the signs with their strange lettering, at the people who were entirely too polite and neat to be Americans, and the stripped gears of his brain began another painful round of squeaking toward a conclusion. Strange place + strange alphabet = foreign (not USA) country Foreign country + polite and neat people = ? The low-watt bulb made its metaphorical reappearance over Darren's head. "Toronto!" "Huh?" "This place is obviously Toronto!" Darren was on a roll, now, with all the pieces suddenly falling into place. "I bet Adric is taking that girl to a hockey game, and those other two must be terrorists plotting to hold the entire arena for ransom! We have to stop them, now!" "Where the Hell did _that_ come from?" demanded Tyson. "Oh! I saw that movie!" David offered. "Didn't it have that Van Damme guy in it?" "Silence, knaves!" Darren roared. "Yours is not to reason why! Yours is but to do the stuff I say to do! Now, to the hockey arena!" Picking a direction at random, he led them off across the street, in a direction that was almost completely not the one the others had gone in. They had just made it through the traffic and were starting down the block, when a blood-chilling laugh rang out above and behind them. "MWAHAHAHAHA! People like you must be born evil to commit such heinous depravities upon this fair land!" Standing right behind them was an enormous masked man, his cape billowing dramatically behind him as he stood balanced atop a speed-limit sign. The word 'STRIKE' was printed on his chest, and he had a baseball bat hanging from his belt. "'Anus depravities'?" questioned Eric. "Eeew! We aren't that way!" "'Heinous', not 'anus', you putz," Tyson growled. "But, we aren't evildoers!" wailed Darren. "We're on our way to _stop_ the evildoers." "Um, just what evil did we do, anyway?" wondered David. "Foul miscreants," snarled the caped loony, "did you think you could evade the wrath of the Heavens? _I_ saw you! You dare to sully this city with your _jaywalking_?! I, the amazing Strikeman, will never permit this!" "Jaywalking?" the WANKERs chorussed. "Strikeman?" added Tyson a moment later. Quivering with righteous fury, Strikeman thrust a musclebound arm toward the street. "The lanes for crossing the streets are clearly and properly marked at each intersection, where proper signalling equipment ensures a safe and orderly passage through traffic. This was done at great time and expense, a project that took _years_ of hard labor by our dedicated public servants." The arm swivelled around to point accusingly at Darren as the vigilante's voice rose to a feverish pitch of indignation. "And then you four make a _mockery_ of the system with your casual disregard for the law! Well, the Heavens above may forgive you, but I SHALL NOT! Taste the wrath of my Split-Fingered Fastball of Justice!" Darren screamed in fear as Strikeman sent a baseball scything through the air toward him. The horsehide-covered weapon of justice struck him in the chest, knocking him into the gutter. "BWAHAHAHAHA! So shall all the spawn of evil fall before the righteousness of Strikeman!" Three more fastballs hummed through their deadly arcs, sending each of the WANKERs in turn into the gutter. With a flourish, Strikeman leapt from the sign, rope in hand to bind the four dazed and battered law- breakers. He was just getting the rope around Eric's feet when the air was split by the wail of police sirens. With a snarled curse, the base- ball vigilante jumped onto his waiting motorcycle and tore off down the street. Seconds later, a mini-patrol car braked to a halt next to the incapacitated foursome, two angry-looking police- women inside. "Strikeman's work for sure, Natsumi," said the driver as the two eyed the sprawled WANKERs. "He can't be far, Miyuki," her partner replied. "Let's get after him!" "We're already out of our jurisdiction." "When did we start caring about that?" The driver shrugged. "Just pointing it out." With a roar, the patrol car surged off in pursuit of Tokyo's Dork Knight of Justice. "Urgh... terrorists..." Darren muttered weakly after the long- gone police car. "Need to... warn cops..." Woozily, he looked down at the baseball-shaped bruise on his chest. "Ouch..." As he struggled to sit up, another mini-patrol car pulled up at the curb, the two officers jumping out and running over to check on them. "Oh, dear! Are you all right, sir?" Darren blinked up at the sight of a lovely, statuesque blonde policewoman leaning over him, her face a mask of worry. Even though she wasn't as beautiful as the Most Holy Goddess, for a mere mortal, she was more than enough to take Darren's breath away. "Do you need medical assistance?" Eric butted in before he could answer. "I think I need mouth-to- mouth resuscitation," the bearded WANKER gasped, staring at the vision of winsome loveliness above them. "Oh, my, you do look a little breathless." The officer frowned prettily in concern. "I think we both are," said Darren with a nasty glare at his subordinate. Before they could push their luck any further, the other police officer came around and slapped them on the backs as hard as she could. The second cop was much shorter and wore glasses that made her look sort of mischievously cute. "There you go," she said to the two wheezing young men. "Now you can breathe just fine." The blonde officer smiled sunnily at her. "Thank you, Yoriko." Turning back to the four Americans, she said with a snappy salute, "I am Officer Futaba Aoi of the Bokuto Precinct. Can you gentlemen tell me what happened here? This was the work of Strikeman, wasn't it?" Yoriko got a starry-eyed look. "Oh, Strikeman! He's so dashing and heroic!" Aoi coughed politely. "Ah, actually, Yoriko, he's a violent menace to public safety, and we're supposed to arrest him, remember?" Violent... menace... safety... The words connected with something in Darren's brain. "The terrorists!" he blurted. "Eh? What terrorists?" asked Yoriko. "The ones that are going to take the ice-rink hostage and ruin the dork's date!" Aoi sighed and took out a notepad. "Okay, sir. Just calm down and give us the details..." Yoriko was already jumping into the car. "There's no time for that!" she shouted. "This is awful! We need to call it in right away!" "Now, Yoriko, don't you think we should get some more informa- tion before we go taking the word of a group of strangers on..." Aoi wound down, since Yoriko was already shouting into the radio. "Mini-Pat Two to Bokuto Station! We have a report of an imminent terrorist attack on a Nerima skating rink. Suspects are, uh..." She called out the window to Darren, "Who are the suspects, anyway?" "A guy and a girl, kind of weird-looking!" "Suspects are described as a strange-looking male and female," Yoriko babbled excitedly. "They are also heavily armed and extremely dangerous!" Aoi's head shook sadly back and forth. If there was anything Yoriko was known for, it was her near-legendary ability to jump to conclusions. ---- "I wish Ryoko or Wesley had told us where Adric was going," groused Diane as she and Doug exited the PLOT hole. "Well, I think he usually hangs out at Ucchan's Okonomiyaki when he's in Nerima, so we should have a good chance of catch- ing up to him there. With any luck, we'll overtake and intercept the WANKERs on the way, then we can just shadow Adric and protect him for the rest of the evening." Diane nodded. "Good plan, Doug. If we move quick enough, we should have everything under control. So, which way do we go?" "I... don't really know," Doug replied a little sheepishly. Catching his partner's pained look, he explained, "I know that's where he goes, but I don't know where the place actually is." Diane considered this. "Okay, fine. Logically, this place can't be too far from here, so we should be able to get directions from the locals, right? All we have to do is ask." "Right, and I think I see just who to ask." Doug pointed down the street to their right, where a police car sat at the curb. "After all, cops always know where to find places to eat, don't they?" ---- "Do you mind repeating that, Yoriko?" came a slightly exasperated voice over the radio. "Terrorists, I said!" the policewoman shouted back. "On their way to attack the skating rink!" "And this information comes from where?" the dispatcher asked. "From these four guys that we, uh, found in the gutter." The sound of a long sigh came through the speaker. "Yoriko, let me speak to Aoi, please." The blonde took up the microphone, looking a little uneasy. "Aoi here. Go ahead, Bokuto Station." "First, Aoi, what in the world is Yoriko babbling about? Second, what are you doing in Nerima, anyway?" "Well, see, we were chasing Strikeman, and we found these young men that he'd beaten up. When we stopped to help them, they told us about the terrorists." "Uh-huh. Okay, Aoi. You're a cool, level-headed police officer, a respected professional. So, I want you tell me, in your opinion, do you think there's anything to this, or is it a load of crap?" Aoi's lips twisted in an uncharacteristic grimace. It would hurt Yoriko's feelings for her warning to be contradicted, but in all honesty, these four looked like the last people on earth that you could apply the term 'reliable sources' to. They hadn't even taken their names yet, and for all they knew, they could be a band of escaped mental patients. "I'd have to say..." "Excuse us, officers, but could you direct us to a place called Ucchan's Okonomiyaki?" Aoi looked up, eyes widening at the approach of a man and woman dressed in camouflage uniforms and carrying submach- ineguns. "I know that voice," Darren said, peeking up over the fender of the patrol car. "AAH! You!" he shrieked in panic as he caught sight of the two ADF troopers. "Aha! It's them!" Doug shouted gleefully, reaching for his Uzi. "No, Doug! Don't!" Diane was a little quicker on the uptake, and had determined that whipping out guns and pointing them in the direction of policemen was seldom a good idea. "Huh, wha--? Oh, crap!" Doug realized what he was doing just as the short cop dove for cover, yelling, "Everybody down! He's got a gun!" Aoi sank down into the relative safety of the mini-pat, clawing for the siren switch with one hand and keying down the mike with the other. "Bokuto! We have two armed terrorists attacking us! Male and female, with submachineguns! Send backup immediately, please! They have us pinned down east of the Higurashi Shrine!" "Well," said Diane conversationally, "I'd say this just about sucks." ---- As Officer Futaba Aoi's distress call went out to the Bokuto Precinct House, calling in dozens of police cars and elite 'white bike' motorcycle patrolmen from that area, it was also picked up on the scanners at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters. Inspector Zenigata kicked away from his desk, snatching up his revolver and trenchcoat in one movement. "It's them!" he shouted. "This must be a plot of Lupin's, to rob the ice rink while his gang creates a diversion!" As policemen swarmed out the doors, one of Zenigata's subord- inates asked, "Are you certain, Inspector?" "Of course, you idiot!" the lantern-jawed cop yelled. "Man and woman with automatic weapons, who could that be but Daisuke Jigen and Fujiko Mine? Don't you youngsters know _anything_? And wherever those two are, Lupin is always right behind!" As Zenigata bustled into his car, his driver thrust a computer printout under his nose. "Inspector, I had the clerks run a quick check, and the only ice rink in Nerima that has an event today is the one at Kolhotz High School." "Then that's where we'll go! The local cops should be able to handle Lupin's henchmen, while we grab the man himself at Kolhotz!" With a roar of engines, some fifteen carloads of Tokyo Metro's finest set off to mete out some justice. ---- "Um, just what do you mean by that, sugar?" Number One was annoyed to find herself in a near-panic on the inside. Dammit, he never panicked when he was a _guy_! Just in this stupid, cursed, hormone-addled _girl's_ body. Unfortunately, all the self-directed anger in the world couldn't alter the fact that her heart was doing things in her chest that would make a cardiologist gibber and call for his Mommy. "Oh, just that some of the prettiest girls you meet around here are actually guys," Adric said nonchalantly. "Jesus on a rocket-sled!" thought Number One. "Does he _know_? Can he tell I'm not a real girl? How? Damndamndamndamn..." Thumpthump-THUMP-thumpittyTHUMP-thumpwhump went her heart in the meantime. "For instance," he went on, "there's a certain girl in this very room who is most definitely not what she appears to be..." Number One swallowed hard, trying to keep her smile from slip- ping. THUMP-thumpTHUMP-thumpittyTHADUMP-THUMP- WHUMP... "Hey, 'Natsu! Watch the grill while I get Adchan's order, willya?" hollered the androgynous chef. "At once, Ukyou-sama," a beautiful, kimono-clad waitress answer- ed, bowing over her serving-platter. Adric nodded slightly in the girl's direction as she took Ukyou's place at the grill. "You'd never guess Konatsu there is really a man, would you?" THUMPTHUMPTHUMPWHUMPTHUMP... thump? Ukyou frowned worriedly as she came over to their table. "Hey, Adchan, is your friend all right? She looks a little woozy." ---- "Oh, don't they just look too cute, Wesley?" Ryoko and Wes stood under the awning of a small antique shop, watching Adric and Ember through the window of Ucchan's just across the road. The space pirate was smiling a bit wistfully at the sight of the two might-be-sort-of-kind-of-possibly lovers enjoying their meal, while Wes just looked irritated. "I don't know about 'cute'," he muttered, "but they _do_ look fed, which is a lot more than I do right now." His stomach gurgled in surly agreement, peeved at the sight of so much delicious okono- miyaki just out of reach. "Eh?" Ryoko asked distractedly. "I'm _hungry_, Ryoko." Wesley manfully kept most of the whine out of his voice. "I'd just about murder for a shrimp okonomiyaki right now... Mmm, yeah... shrimp..." "Oh no you don't!" Ryoko collared him as he stepped off the curb, caught up in visions of an Ucchan's Super Deluxe Shrimp Special. "They aren't to know we're here, Crusher," she scolded. "Think how embarassed Addy would be if we interrupted his romantic tete-a-tete." "Think how embarassed he'd be if I chew my own leg off," Wesley shot back. "Fine, fine." Ryoko threw up her hands in defeat. "Go get some- thing to eat, but get it from someplace else, okay? And make it _quick_." She huffily settled back in to watch the happy couple. Annoyed at her bossiness, Wes couldn't quite resist a parting shot. With an elaborate bow, he intoned, "It shall be as you say, Princess Aeka," then turned on his heel and stalked off. "Yeah, yeah," Ryoko muttered absently, then stiffened. "Hey!" she shouted after him. "What did you just call me?" ---- Meanwhile, back at the 'Round... The pub shook to the roar of the Loyal Crew strutting their funky stuff. After three months in space with only each other for com- pany, they were understandably frisky, and it showed. Pierre the Ogron had perched his massive body on one end of the bar, from which point he could keep up a running chatter with Francois as the two reminisced about their childhood together and occasionally hit each other in the head. Tharon had discovered the jukebox and was playing Iron Maiden songs over and over and over, bellowing along in something that was almost harmony in between taking bites out of the side of raw beef he'd ordered. Kaye Donegan and three or four male crewmen were all pestering Tegan to dance with them, periodically coming to blows with each other. Crewman Johnson had already given up on her and had shifted his attentions to Zoe, with the result that he was now outside getting the crap pounded out of him by Jamie. Several others had appropriated the dartboard, which had become a target for thrown cutlery, darts being deemed 'too girly', while still others had started a mosh pit with a group of Thal head- bangers. Chris Cwej was sulking a little. Since Fitz was off annoying Compassion somewhere, there was no one to talk to, and he was getting a bit bored. He'd already tried putting the moves on the scar-faced privateer girl, Kaye, but she'd made it clear that her interests lay solely with her own kind. ("Sorry, bud. I'm strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.") He briefly considered trying to chat up that pretty-but-weird nun, but discarded the notion as too bent even for him. Ah, well, maybe he'd just turn in early tonight... Chris was headed for the door when he felt a dainty hand on his back. "Hey," said a slightly whiskey-fuzzed but definitely female voice. "Where you goin'? The party's just kickin' into gear. Why don't you stay and keep me amused, huh?" Chris turned around, ready to turn on the charm. "Well, of course I couldn't refuse a..." He tapered off as he found himself staring into the reptilian face of Ellie, the Draconian engineering officer of the Loyal Crew. She slipped her hands over his chest and grinned lopsidedly at him. "You're pretty cute for a Monkey-boy," she said, giving Chris a faceful of whiskey-breath. She tugged him toward the dance floor. "C'mon, little monkey, let's have fun. You know what they say: Once you try Drac, you never go back!" Chris started to protest, then just shrugged and followed. "Ah, sure, what the Hell? Let's get funky." ---- Doug and Diane peeked out of the alley mouth, ducking back into the shadows as a trio of police cars, two from Nerima and one from Bokuto, swept past. Doug sagged against the wall and blew out the breath he'd been holding. "Damn. Looks like we'll have to keep our heads down for awhile, yet." He pounded a fist. "Curse those WANKERs! If it wasn't for them... Aaaarrrgh!" Diane nodded in morose agreement. "And the worst part is, we can't stop them from going after Adric, now." Her partner clenched his jaw and stiffened, straightening to his full height and quivering with newfound resolve. "The Hell we can't," he spat. "Priorities are priorities, after all. We've faced worse than this before, right? I say, enough of this timid skulking! We're the ADF! Boldness is our middle name--" "Actually, 'Defense' is our middle name," Di corrected. "--and danger is our hobby! We risk all to gain all! We play through the pain! We give 110 percent!" Diane made a mental note to not let Doug listen to college foot- ball coaches anymore. "Meaning what, Fearless Leader?" she asked. "Meaning we get off our butts and _do_ something," he declared. "So what if we face overwhelming odds and insurmountable obstacles? We follow the path of Adric, we're used to having our backs to the wall. Facing utter, catastrophic ruin is nothing new to _us_, of all people!" "What about facing jail in a foreign country?" "Pish-tosh." Doug waved that off. "Are we men, or are we mice?" "Actually, I'm a girl, so I'm not either one..." "Diane," Doug hissed out of the corner of his mouth, "you aren't making this any easier." "Oh, right, sorry." The blonde ADFer settled her Uzi in place and fell in behind Doug. "Where to, then?" "We set out boldly, seeking trouble!" So saying, Doug stepped out into the street. Then stepped back in as another police patrol drove by. "We set out boldly, through the alleys," he modified, "seeking trouble." As the two slipped off down the darkened alleyway, Diane mum- bled, "And I just bet we find it, too..." ---- "You were right, Adric sugar," Ember said as she fumbled another bite of okonomiyaki up with her chopsticks. "This stuff really is good. Kind of like a pizza, or an omelet, maybe." She growled a little in frustration as the morsel slipped out of her grasp for the second time. "It's just hard to hang onto..." Adric looked up from his own plate, which was already nearly empty. Number One smirked inwardly, thinking that _some_ things sure never changed. "Oh, no wonder," Adric said. "You aren't holding your chopsticks quite right. Use them like this." He held up his own, demonstrating. "Like this?" she asked, trying it. "Not quite. Your fingers aren't... Here, hold out your hand." She did so, and he shifted the chopsticks a little, then moved her fingers to the appropriate positions. "There," he smiled, "just like that." Number One was staring at her hand in mild shock. Adric was touching her. He had hold of her hand, exactly what she had feared would happen. This was a new low, sitting in a restaurant holding hands with Swamp Thing. Would she ever be able to live this down? ("Actually, this is the second time he's done that. Plus, it isn't really that unpleasant at all," said the traitorous little voice in the back of her mind. "LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU! LALA- LALALA!" replied the rest of her.) Completely unaccountably, she felt herself blush. "Umm, oh!" Adric had just realized that he was still touching her fingers, and let go with a nervous laugh, blushing a little himself. ---- Ryoko giggled happily at the scene inside Ucchan's. "Awww... It's just like 'Lady and the Tramp'! I wish Wesley would hurry back so he could see this, too." ---- "...with extra hot fudge, heavy on the peanuts, and hold the strawberries, please." "Right, sir, that'll be 400 yen." Wes handed over a handful of coins and eagerly grabbed up his Double-Scoop Banana-Split Sundae. He chuckled as he carried it to the nearest table. When he was small, he'd always wanted to have ice cream for supper, and now that he'd outgrown the idea, he was doing it. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of choice for places to eat on this block. Ryoko wouldn't let him go in Ucchan's, and while the Cat Cafe was close by, he didn't really feel like eating ramen or dealing with the shrivelled old witch who ran the place. That pretty much left the Atama-Furiza Ice Cream Parlor as the only place to go. "Well, I haven't grown up _that_ much," he muttered, digging in. "Let me have an octuple-scoop sundae, with butterscotch, choco- late syrup, whipped cream, caramel, and a _bunch_ of cherries!" sang out a very chipper female voice. Wes looked up to see who would order something even more preposterously sweet than what he had, and was startled to see one of the oddest-looking girls he'd ever set eyes on. She was a few years younger than he, with long dark hair tied back in twin ponytails and pale, elegant features that looked vaguely Scandinavian. She had a oval-shaped blue mark on her forehead, with a smaller mark on each cheek, and for some reason was carrying a long steel mallet strapped to her back. Even for Nerima, this was weird. However, what really grabbed the young Starfleet Officer's attention and held it was the book she was carrying tucked under her arm: the _Star Trek TNG Technical Handbook_. She caught him staring and responded with a disdainful sniff, making a point of ignoring him. Oh, well, whatever. Wes shrugged and went back to quietly scarfing down his ice cream. A few minutes later, the silence of the near-empty parlor was broken by the sound of a pained, "What?! Who designed this stuff, a team of monkeys?" Wes looked over to see the girl shovelling down ice cream with one hand while holding open the book with the other, a rather disgusted look on her face. She gave one particular page an angry swat. "This stuff is so wrong, it's not even funny!" Curious, Wesley finished off his sundae and went over to her. "Excuse me, Miss. I couldn't help but notice your book, there, and I was kind of wondering what it is that has you so angry..." "It's this!" She held up a drawing of a typical warp-drive engine, poking it as though the problem should be self-evident. "Yes?" Wes prodded. "Duh. Look at this mess. They're losing a full ten percent of their power right here, by not using a reciprocal shunt." She paused to gulp down a huge spoonful of ice cream. "And then there's this stupid reactor design, here. Don't even get me started on what all is wrong there. Of course, that all just begs the question of why anybody'd want to use warp drives in the first place, when you could build a wave-motion oscillation engine with a lot less trouble and get way more power out of it." She muttered something under her breath that sounded like "stupid mortals". Intriguing. "So, what would you do differently, then?" "You really want to know?" she asked eagerly. At his nod, the girl pulled a large piece of drafting paper and a pen from some- where and began rapidly sketching out a design on it. "Here, sit down and I'll show you what a _real_ starship drive should look like." He sat next to her, looking over her shoulder at the complex diagram that was taking shape with almost unnatural speed. "By the way," he said by way of introduction, "my name's Wesley Crusher." "I'm Skuld," she answered distractedly. "Goddess Second Class, Limited Li--" She stopped herself and chuckled awkwardly. "I mean, ah, I'm just Skuld." ---- Officer Aoi closed the notebook with a sigh. Taking statements from these four Americans was about the most nerve-wracking experience in recent memory, even for a person of Aoi's almost glacial patience. It would almost have been easier dealing with those two armed loonies that had run off. "How can they think this is _Toronto_?!" Yoriko wailed from the driver's seat. She held out a hand. "Look, Aoi. I'm shaking. Even the Scooter Lady never got me as upset as these four. I think I'd rather deal with the terrorists." "I know, Yoriko. I know." Aoi leaned back in the passenger seat, long legs stretched tiredly out the open door. "At least we're finished getting their statements. With any luck, maybe the Chief will let us leave them here." "Unless they ask for protective custody," Yoriko pointed out. The two cringed. "Well," she went on. "Might as well call in now and find out. Cross your fingers, Aoi." ---- "Man, will they just hurry up and let us go?" Tyson demanded. "We've told them everything already." He twitched impatiently, scowling at the police car. "Don't be like that, Tyson," Darren said placidly, not taking his eyes off the leggy blonde cop. "We'll go when the lovely Officer is finished with us. It's our duty as law-abiding guests in this country, right?" David cleared his throat. "Ah, you know, I was kind of wonder- ing, if this is Toronto, why aren't there any Mounties around?" "I see something worth mounting," Eric murmurred, eyes fixed on Officer Aoi. Darren shot him a look that promised a slow and complicated death. "Guys," insisted Tyson, "we still have those two weirdos after Adric to worry about. Remember?" Darren jerked, startled. "Oh, yeah! The terrorists! We should get after them, even if the cops are already on it. Let's go ask the beauteous Officer if they need us anymore." As the foursome walked over to the idling patrol car, Yoriko was just putting up the radio mike. Seeing Aoi's legs outstretched, they all jockeyed for a position to get the best view, elbowing and shoving one another. Finally, Darren managed to trip Eric and thus get himself in the best spot. Aoi's patient, professional smile was looking pretty strained by this point. "You four are free to go," Yoriko said before they could ask. "So please return to... wherever it is you have to go, and have a nice evening. Please." "Ah, okay," replied Darren. "You have my phone number, right? In case you need us, or something?" "Oh, smooth," mumbled Tyson. "Yes, yes. Thank you for your cooperation. We'll call you if we need you." Darren watched with some disappointment as Aoi swung those long, luscious legs up into the car and closed the door. Eric, meanwhile, had a much better and more interesting view from the ground, as his eyes travelled up those smooth calves and into the depths of the officer's skirt. "You... _gentlemen_ have a safe evening," the blonde called as they drove away. "Wow, she's really something," Darren sighed, looking after them. Eric stood up and brushed himself off, looking confused. "Hey, guys," he asked, "do Canadian policewomen all wear boxer shorts?" "I wouldn't be surprised," Darren answered. "Oh, okay." Eric looked relieved. "So, I guess that bulge in the front of them was probably her gun, or something..." ---- "Hey, Ryoko! What's up?" The space pirate cringed and slowly looked behind her. There, leaning out of an open door, was a little girl, ten or so years old, with long, spiky red hair and a peculiar gleam in her eyes. This was somewhat odd, since there hadn't been a door in that spot five seconds ago. "Oh, not much," Ryoko replied too casually. "Just keeping an eye out for someone." "You're interfering in Adric's love life again, aren't you?" Ryoko spluttered. "I am _not_... exactly. I'm just looking out for him while he's on his date, is all." Shaking her head, the girl stepped on out to get a better view into the restaurant. "That's his date, huh? Cute. Reminds me of Ranma-chan, or that Suzuki girl. Except that she doesn't have a pigtail, of course." "Ah... yeah. Was there something you wanted?" Ryoko eyed the girl warily, especially now that she saw the nurse's uniform she was wearing. The redhead shrugged. "I just thought you might be interested to know that Aeka and Sasami have gone off to a hot spring resort with Mihoshi, so Tenchi's pretty much alone at the shrine right now." Ryoko gave the doorway a longing look. "Ooh, I hate to miss a chance like this," she whined, "but I really need to stay here and keep an eye on things, at least 'til Wesley gets back." The little girl smiled dangerously. Suddenly, where she had been standing was a much older, taller, more filled-out woman with the same unruly red hair and piercing eyes. Where the nurse's outfit had been baggily cute on the ten-year-old, it now presented a much more risque appearance. "Very well, then, Ryoko," she purred "You just do that. I think I'll go back and see if Tenchi can help me in the lab..." "Oh no you don't, Washu!" yelled Ryoko, zipping through the doorway ahead of her. "You keep your hands off my Tenchi!" Washu chuckled evilly, returning to her child-form as she watched Ryoko's hasty exit. "Oh, my daughter," she sighed, "you are _so_ easy to manipulate." She made her way unhurriedly back through her doorway, pausing to give Ucchan's one more look. "There you go, Adric," she chirped. "Enjoy your privacy." She shut the door and a moment later, it was gone. ---- With the okonomiyaki gone and bellies full, the time had arrived for after-dinner small talk. "Oh, I've had various professions, here and there," Ember said in response to Adric's question. She was trying to keep her answers fairly close to the truth, so they'd be easy to remember. "I've done some factory work, some construction, and most recently I've been what you might call a 'corporate troubleshooter'." "Really? I have a hard time picturing you on a construction site." "I'm stronger than I look." "Oh." He let it go at that. "So, what about this 'troubleshooter' business? What does that entail?" She thought about how to answer that. "Well, let's say the com- pany has a big project going on somewhere. Everything has to go according to a set plan and schedule, so it's important that no problems come up that might throw off the schedule or cause a change in the plan. That's where I come in. I go in and look to see what kinds of problems could come up, and then I make sure that they get taken care of before they cause trouble." That had to be the most sanitized job description any assassin had ever come up with. "Sounds interesting." She laughed, thinking of the events of the past few weeks. "It's seldom dull, I'll say that." "Do you enjoy it?" The question brought her up short. "_Do_ I enjoy it?" she thought. "I used to, but here lately... Is it worth it? Is the Cause as noble as I always thought it was? Crap, this no time to worry about this!" But, she _was_ worried about it, and now that Adric's question had been asked, she couldn't stop thinking about it. She looked at him, and realized that he was still waiting for an answer. "Well, I'm not--" Fortunately -- or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it -- she was abruptly interrupted as a pair of strong arms ensnared her from behind, scooping her into a tight embrace. "Oh, my fiery-maned goddess! Surely the heavens smile upon me to deliver such loveliness unto my bosom!" The voice was rich, commanding, and coming from right next to her right ear as her unseen captor nuzzled against her hair. "I am going to be sick," she thought as she struggled to free herself from the unwanted hug. "Let her go, Kuno!" Adric yelled, leaping to his feet. Instantly, Number One found herself swung to one side, now pinned against her assailant's side by one arm. She was being held by a tall, handsome young man dressed in the traditional fighting garb of a kendoist. The young man's free hand held a wooden practice sword -- a bokken -- which was being pointed threateningly at the bridge of Adric's nose. "Forsooth, young gaijin varlet," Kuno sneered, "you are being exceedingly familiar with this maid, to whom my heart is bound by love. Stand fast, then, and take your punishment for your unwanted advances upon my lovely pig-tailed girl!" Adric swallowed, clearly intimidated by the raving idiot's man- ner, but he didn't back down. "That's _not_ the pig-tailed girl, Kuno," he said. "Now, let her go." "It isn't?" Kuno turned to look at Ember, who had just about maneuvered one arm free to punch him with. "Ah, so the Fates do have their sport with me, sending one who most resembles my beloved to tempt my poor heart!" the idiot wailed. "And yet, is there not yet beauty here, and the grace of Heaven upon this lovely form?" He released her and bowed low. "I, Tatewaki Kuno, the Blue Thunder of the Furinkan High School kendo team, shall permit you to date with me! What say you, fair maid?" "This," replied Ember as she landed a vicious right hook on his jaw. To her amazement, the kendoist shook the blow off. "She has the spirit of a tigress," he intoned, "to match her fair form. Even as my other loves, Akane Tendou and the pig-tailed girl, she is a woman of fiery heart! I must have you!" He lunged for her-- CLANG!! --only to stop in mid-leap as an enormous spatula slammed down on his skull. "Kuno, you jackass!" shouted Ukyou as she brained him again. "I told you about bothering the paying customers!" Astoundingly, Kuno still didn't go down, although his wits, if he had any, were clearly scrambled. Ukyou contemptuously shoved him to the door, then drew back her battle spatula like a baseball player getting ready to swing for the bleachers. "Why don't you go pester the Cat Cafe for awhile?" she grunted as she swatted the kendoist into a low trajectory down the street. "You okay, Adchan, Emchan?" The chef wiped her hands, a look of pained disgust on her face. "Honestly, I think that moron's head has gotten harder from all those beatings Ranchan gives him." She pointed to the blade of her giant spatula, which now sported a pair of shallow Kuno-head-shaped dents. "I'll go along with that," Ember said, rubbing her sore knuckles. "Cripes, I've seen some first-season 'Ranma 1/2', so I should've been expecting that dork." "Are you sure you're all right?" Adric asked. "Oh, I'm fine, sugar," she reassured him. "It takes more than being groped by a perverted dimwit to affect _me_." At that moment, the front wall caved in. "Like that, for instance," she said. "What the Hell?!" blurted Adric as he and the two girls jumped away from the falling debris. As the dust settled around the large hole that now took up most of the front wall of Ucchan's, a menacing figure strode through the impromptu doorway, a large mace clenched in one hand and a battered and unconscious Kuno in the other. Glaring icily at the chef, she flung the kendoist's bruised body into a corner booth, demolishing it (the booth, that is). "Aiyaah! Why spatula girl knock stupid stick-boy into Cafe? You trying to chase off customers?" Number One took a moment to look over the new arrival. Hmm. Chinese girl, built like an adolescent's fantasy, with long, thick, purple hair and a waitress's apron with a picture of a cat on it. Sifting throught her sketchy knowledge of the early 'Ranma 1/2' episodes, she managed to put a name to the face. This would have to be... "Shampoo! What in God's name are you doing, knocking down my restaurant?" Ukyou stomped over, spatula held up threaten- ingly. Shampoo tossed her head disdainfully. "You have nerve to ask, after throwing stick-boy through Cafe window? Spatula girl cruising for bruising, you ask Shampoo." "Bring it on, girly," Ukyou sneered back. "Anytime you feel up to it." "I think maybe we should get going," Adric said, turning to Ember with a 'let's scram while we can' look on his face. The two began to edge toward the door, having noticed that the few other patrons had already headed for safer locales. "Aiyaah! Nihao, dead boy," Shampoo chirped, noticing him for the first time. "Shampoo not realize was you, 'til you talk. Who this?" she asked, giving Ember a critical once-over. "Is dead boy's girlfriend Shampoo hear about? She not look like violent psycho nutjob." Adric shuffled uneasily. "No, no. That's... someone else. This is my friend, Ember. Ember, this is Shampoo of the Joketsuzoku Tribe." Shampoo returned Ember's smile and nod, but gave Adric a hard look. "You is not two-timing, dead boy? In Amazon tribes, mans what has two womans get dealt with, like this." She drew a finger across her throat. "Nonono! It's not like that--" "ExCUSE me, Shampoo!" Ukyou shouted, tapping her foot impatiently. "Oh, right." Shampoo took up a combat-ready stance, then looked back at Adric. "Dead boy and friend want to stay and watch Shampoo demonstrate superiority of Amazon womans when she thrash ugly spatula girl?" "Hah!" yelled Ukyou. "In your dreams, maybe!" "How spatula girl know that? Many nights, when Shampoo not dreaming about husband, have dream where Shampoo defeat you and violent pervert girl and crazy rose girl and shave all you heads and make you sing teapot song." "Less banter, more beating," the chef snarled as she took a vicious swipe at the Amazon's head. Shampoo deflected the blow with her mace and aimed a kick at her opponent's stomach, which was barely avoided. "Aiyaah!" Shampoo taunted as they began to trade blows in earnest. "Shampoo can hear it -- oof -- now: 'Ukyou little teapot, short, bald, and stout. Here is handle, here is spout.'" She sang this last in a passable imitation of Ukyou's rustic Kansai accent. Fuming, the chef attacked in a blizzard of spatula strikes, flour bombs, and swear words, forcing Shampoo into a frantic defense as spatula met mace in merciless combat. "Die, Amazon bimbo!" CLANG! "You die, crossdressing pervert girl!" SMACK! "Airhead!" CLANG! "Weakling!" WHUMP! "We'll just show ourselves out," Adric called, backpedalling out the door with Ember. Konatsu the male waitress gave them a smile and wave as they left. "Thank you, and come again," he called after them. Then, with a sigh, he set out the 'closed' sign and began sweeping rubble off the sidewalk as his employer and her rival continued their discussion inside. "Chinese slut!" KA-WHANG! "Stupid tomboy!" SMASH! ---- As the party continued inside This Time Round, Tegan managed to slip outside for a moment, unobserved. "Rabbits!" she groaned. "I like being the center of attention as much as anyone, but enough's enough." If it wasn't some half- sloshed spacer trying to cop a feel, it was that girl with the scar chatting her up, or the privateer helmsman (she never did know his name) wanting to slow-dance. "Isn't that the truth?" asked a tired voice from beside her. "Eh? You're out here, too, Nyssa?" The Trakenite nodded. "I had to get away for a bit. I mean, I'm flattered that Sister Roxanne thinks I have so much talent, but I've heard about how much the Church needs me until I could just _scream_." In a much quieter voice, she muttered, "And besides, he's not here, anyway..." The charm bracelet on her wrist jingled as she toyed with it. Tegan perked up slightly. Was that what it sounded like in her young friend's voice? "Tegan, sweetie! Are you out here?" Tegan cringed at the sound of Kaye's voice from the doorway. "Bloody Hell. I can't get a moment's peace, can I?" Nyssa plucked at her sleeve. "Why don't we just get out of here for a while?" she whispered. "Go get some supper, or something." "Count me in. Any place in particular?" "There's this place in Nerima I've heard a lot about..." ---- The man who was not in any way John Travolta scowled as the screen of his laptop showed a pair of figures slipping off toward the Nerima PLOT hole. If they went through, he wouldn't be able to track them by satellite anymore. Should he try and keep them from leaving? He considered for a moment, then discarded the idea as unnecessary. There'd be less chance of giving any- thing away if he just followed them on foot and conducted a physical surveillance. ---- "...and these two cross-channel shunts provide power for the shock cannons. You can have more than that, if you upsize the firing chamber just forward of the turbine scroll, here." Wesley looked at where Skuld was pointing among what seemed like an acre of hand-drawn schematics and blueprints. "Wouldn't you need to upsize the turbine, too, to avoid an excessive power drain?" The girl brushed that aside. "Not with an oscillation engine this size. I'm telling you, the power generation capacity is way beyond any other kind of drive. You can tap it for shock cannons, pulse guns, or whatever, and not get a significant drain." "What about phasers?" Skuld grimaced at him, her lips twisting (cutely, he noticed) to one side. "Well, _of course_ phasers," she said, her tone that of a person who'd just been asked if they thought the sun might rise in the morning. "Phasers, masers, ion cannons, blasters, T-ray guns, whatever. If you just wanted those instead of shock cannons, the same shunts will work. The only thing that'll really siphon off power is a wave-motion gun." From somewhere, an- other piece of drafting paper was produced and laid on the table amidst the twenty or so others already covering it and the two next to it. "And that would tie in like this, to the fore-end of the drive housing..." Wesley watched, rapt, as the sheet began to fill up with yet another super-complex diagram, the pen a blur in Skuld's deft fingers. He shifted his gaze a little, and noted the way her eyes crinkled as she worked, and the way she'd chew on her lip a little as she drew out a particularly tough schematic. "Hey," he found himself saying, "you want some more ice cream? My treat." Was it his imagination, or did those blue marks on her face seem to brighten just a little? "You mean it?" she asked excitedly, bouncing childishly in her seat. "Could I have a quadruple fudge ripple with chocolate syrup and pecans?" "Done." Man, this Skuld sure did know her machinery. She was showing him things that were decades ahead of anything the Federation had, and buying her some ice cream was the least he could do to show his appreciation. Watching her smile at him, he reflected that it was worth the price of an ice cream just to see that expression. Maybe he'd just catch up to Ryoko later, at the theater... ---- The WANKERs flitted silently amongst the shadows of the gloomily-lit street, four whispering ghosts in the cloudy night. With consummate stealth, they searched for their prey, prepared to strike mercilessly and without warning to vanquish the forces of Evil with the stunning ferocity of their irresistible assault. Yeah, right. Darren, David, Eric, and Tyson trudged down the sidewalk, glumly scanning the unreadable signs on the surrounding build- ings and occasionally calling out, "Yoo-hoo! Mr. Terrorist Person! Yo!" "Blast!" Darren swore. "They are using their diabolical clever- ness to evade our dragnet!" The others just looked at him. "Well, they _are_!" "You know," said Tyson pensively, "you'd think that a girl with green hair would, you know, stand out in a crowd." "Or we could just go to the ice rink," rumbled Eric. "That's what we're _trying_ to do," Darren hissed back. David rather timidly spoke up. "Um, we could ask somebody the way to the rink. And if they've seen a green-haired girl and a dorky-looking kid." "Don't be naive, David," Darren sneered back. He scratched his chin, pondering. "Hmmm... I know! Why don't we ask some- body? We can get directions and find out if they've seen the terrorists!" Eric and Tyson applauded their chief's brilliant perspicacity. "Ice rink?" replied the food-cart vendor they asked a few minutes later. "I guess the nearest is the one at Kolhotz High School, about twenty blocks up, then go right and you can't miss it." "Good deal. Thanks, mister." Darren gave the man a quick salute. "Oh, by the way, you haven't by chance seen a green- haired girl around here, have you?" The old man nodded immediately. "Oh yes, certainly. She and an odd-looking young man were sitting on a bench just a couple of blocks up. I passed them a few minutes ago." Darren grabbed the man's hand and pumped it heartily. "Sir, you may have just helped to defeat the Forces of Evil! You will go down in history as a true hero of WANKERdom!" Turning to the others, he thrust an arm forward dramatically and yelled, "For the honor of Our Lady, CHARGE!" The food vendor just shook his head as he watched the four go pounding up the street. "I swear, these otaku get weirder every day..." ---- Doug and Di skirted the edge of the building, trying to keep out of the glaring streetlights. The streets were still thick with upset- looking cops, and they were spending so much time avoiding arrest that they still hadn't been able to locate the okonomiyaki restaurant. However, as Doug had said, facing certain, crushing defeat on a regular basis was just part and parcel of a career in the ADF. "Damn," Diane hissed as she noticed a police cruiser prowling the parking lot next to them. In a few more seconds, the car's lights would sweep right across them. Doug cast about for a place to hide, but there was not so much as a shrub. But, wait. There was a door just a few feet away. To his grateful relief, it turned out to be unlocked, and the two ADFers were through it just as the police headlights played across the wall. What they didn't see, however, was a burly policeman in riot gear watching them through night-vision goggles from beneath a parked car. They didn't see him key up his radio, either, or hear him quietly mutter, "Sentinel Four to Zenigata. We have two suspicious individuals sneaking in through the skaters' entrance..." ---- "There they are!" shouted Darren. "Prepare to be righteously smited, evil terrorists!" With much shaking of fists, the four pelted up the street toward where a faintly goofy-looking teen- ager and a girl with green hair stood looking in a store window. Something bothered David about this, for some reason. For one thing, although he hadn't gotten a very good look at the people they were supposed to be after, he was pretty sure that the girl's hair had been a different shade of green. For another, she hadn't been wearing a tiger-striped bikini. Then again, perhaps he'd been mistaken before. The girl blinked at them in puzzlement, while the young man gave a panicked yelp and would have run off but for the fact that the girl had his arm in what looked like a death grip. "Dar- ling," she asked, "do you know these people?" Before he could answer, the WANKERs struck, plowing into the couple like a halfwitted avalanche and knocking the two apart. David and Tyson landed on the boy, who extricated himself from under them with surprising agility. Meanwhile, Eric and Darren landed atop the girl, pinning her to the ground. Darren tried to shake his head to clear it, but found his movement restricted. It was like there was something on either side of his head, something sort of soft... "You dare!?" Darren shifted slightly, and found himself looking up into the girl's infuriated face a few inches away, just visible between the two tiger-striped mounds his head was lying between. "You PERVERT!" He found himself wondering why he hadn't noticed those two little horns on her head before. "DIVINE RETRIBUTION!" Darren felt the girl's hand on his head. Then he felt about 40,000 volts of electricity slam through his nervous system. Then he passed out and didn't feel anything, which was probably for the best. The girl's escort watched for a moment as she systematically zapped each of the WANKERs in turn, then he turned and ran off shouting, "Free at last!" "Darling!" called the girl as she finished inflicting electric justice on Tyson's huddled form. "Wait up! Don't you go chasing other women!" Leaping lightly into the air, she soared off in pursuit. Moments later, four grim-faced figures stepped out of the shad- ows, gathering around the cluster of lightly charred WANKERs in a frowning conclave. A neutral observer would have noted a certain similarity of demeanor between the new arrivals and the Knights-Errant Regiment. "Scum," spat the largest of the new foursome as he kicked Darren's unconscious form. "You dare defile the beauteous Lum with your heathen touch?" "What'll we do with 'em, Megane?" another asked, turning to a solemn-looking young man with a ponytail and glasses. "For causing Miss Lum distress, they'll have to be punished," he replied in an ominous voice. "Let's give them 'The Treatment'..." ---- The crowd roared its approval as the last of the challengers sig- nalled his surrender. "And it's a clean sweep for the Golden Pair!" shouted the ecstatic announcer. "Once again the team of Sanzenin and Shiratori proves its dominance in the world of Martial-Arts Figure Skating! Let's have a round of applause for Mikado Sanzenin and Azusa Shiratori!" The entire ice rink trembled to the thunder of the crowd's applause as the local favorites took their bows. Sanzenin was a tall, suave, vaguely feminine young man, who was sometimes referred to as a 'pretty boy' by disparaging (and envious) male schoolmates, while his partner was a bouncy, fair-haired girl of such sugary cuteness that she could cause diabetes at twenty paces. Mikado blew a kiss to his legion of female admirers, causing several to faint on the spot, while Azusa's giggling pirouette raised a chorus of howls from the enraptured males. No one paid the bruised and battered challengers any mind as they limped off the ice. "But, wait! What is this? It looks like Sanzenin is calling for a microphone!" The announcer, a member of the Azusa Fan Club, was nearly delirious with fanboy euphoria. "What can this mean?" The crowd grew silent as a microphone was brought onto the ice. "Thank you, friends! I would just--" Before Mikado could get any further, Azusa snatched the mike from his hand. "It's so _cute_!" she squealed. "I'm going to take it home and name it Jean-Louis!" As she skated off, her partner sighed and called for another mike. "As I was saying," he went on, "I would just like to thank all of you here at Kolhotz High School for your support of the Golden Pair, and I hope to repay that by bringing home the Tonya Harding Cup when we go off to compete in Chicago next month." He paused to let the fans cheer themselves silly. "But, before we go this evening, we are going to make a special challenge. The Golden Pair will take on any couple in this arena in a no-rules, no-holds-barred match, with our title as the prize!" Again, the crowd cheered itself hoarse at the prospect of seeing their favorites go all-out against someone. No-rules matches were always more violent, especially when fought by the likes of the Golden Pair. "You heard him, Figure Skating fans!" cried the announcer. "Mikado and Azusa will take on anyone, with their Champion- ship Title on the line! Will there be any takers!?" At that moment, a door opened near the back of the rink and two people stepped nervously out onto the ice. ---- "Where the Hell are we?" Doug asked, blinded momentarily by the sudden glare of the arena lights. Diane shaded her eyes with her palm. "Looks like, I dunno, a hockey rink, maybe?" As their eyes began to adjust, they became aware of the huge crowd watching them. "And, it looks like we have a set of challengers!" wailed the ann- ouncer. "And it certainly looks like they came prepared for a no- rules match, all right!" "Uh, what's going on, Di?" Doug asked nervously. His partner shrugged. "How should I know? I got here the same time you did." Both gulped as they felt hundreds of eyes upon them. A tall, handsome teenager skated to a stop in front of Diane. He gave Doug a casual glance, then smirked, dismissing him. "So," he purred in a smarmy voice, "you come to challenge the Golden Pair of Martial-Arts Figure Skating, do you? Prepare yourselves, then. You, sir, shall be my 815th, while you, dear lady, shall be my 1500th. So says Mikado." "What are you talking about?" Doug demanded. "Simple. I have knocked out 814 opponents in competition, and I have stolen the lips of 1,499 lovely damsels." "Why would you want to steal lips?" Doug looked puzzled. "I've _kissed_ them, you dolt! Sheesh! I'm going to beat you up and kiss your partner, okay?!" With a roll of his eyes, he skated over to a sickeningly cute girl who was petting a microphone for some reason. "Oh, yeah!?" Doug shouted back. "Well, I'd like to see you try it!" "Ooh, so would I," said Diane in an entirely different tone of voice. "BEGIN!" screamed the announcer. "I'll show you, pretty boy!" Doug took a single step toward his opponent, slipped on the ice, and fell flat. As he struggled up to his knees, Mikado skated past him, casually kneeing him in the side and knocking him back down. "Why, you..." Doug snarled and yanked himself up to a sitting position, where at least he could see what was going on. "Oh, how cute! Azusa wants it!" Before Doug could react, the girl zipped by him, snatching the pin from one of the tear-gas grenades on his vest. She skated away, cuddling the pin and cooing to it. Cursing violently, Doug began trying to pry the hissing, sputter- ing grenade off his chest, but it was too late. Within seconds, he was at the center of a cloud of stinging smoke. Some feet away, Mikado bent low over Diane's face, her body held lightly in his left arm. "And now..." he whispered, then brought his lips to her own. There was a chorus of jealous moaning from the female half of the audience. "Mmmm... Not too bad, gorgeous," Diane husked as they parted slightly. "Me want more." "Alas, fair maiden, I must go now," Mikado said, releasing her. Or trying to release her. As he let go, she flung her arms around his neck and hung on. "Oh, no you don't." She hooked a leg behind him, sending him stumbling into a low tango-dancer's dip. As she brought her lips to his, she growled, "Gimme some sugar, baby." Doug, meanwhile, was being miserable in the tear-gas. ---- "Now!" shouted Inspector Zenigata as the blonde began to get hot-and-heavy with the poofy skater. "Those two are part of Lupin's gang! Arrest them!" With a roar, two dozen Tokyo Metro officers poured onto the ice, riot shields and billy clubs waving. Despite some slipping and sliding, they managed to make their way to the crying, coughing man in the tear-gas cloud and arrest him. Getting the blonde woman into custody was more difficult, mainly because she had to be pried off the figure skater with a crowbar. ---- Adric and Ember stood in front of the Arasuji no Benri Theater, looking over the features. "They're showing the new 'Doki Doki Kokoro' movie, if you want to see that one," said Adric, hoping she wouldn't. "'Throbbing Throbbing Heart'? Er, I'm not really much of a fan of that one, sugar. What else have they got?" "Whew," they both thought, each grateful the other didn't want to see it. Adric read down the list. He had spent enough time in the TARDIS for its Universal-translation properties to have their full effect, thus he, like most Companions, could not only speak and understand most languages, but was able to read them, as well. Number One, on the other hand, had picked up just the carryover effects of taking up residence in the Outside, which were just enough to translate most spoken words. "Let's see... they've also got 'Invasion Defense Force Random Letter: Myron's Revenge'. "Already saw that one." "Me, too. Martina Hopkins is one of my favorites. Hey! They've got the new Leiji Matsumoto movie, '_Yamato_ Ragnarok'!" Ah, what was he thinking? Girls didn't go in for guts-n-glory war movies. "Cool! Can we see that one? Please? I _love_ 'Yamato' movies!" Then again... ---- "Pardon me, Miss." The girl turned to face Nyssa and Tegan, a questioning look on her face. She was maybe thirteen or fourteen, with tousled blonde hair and a huge backpack on her shoulders. "Yes?" she asked. "I was wondering if you might help us for a moment," Nyssa said. "We've only just arrived here, and we're having a spot of trouble finding the place we're looking for. Could you please tell us how to get to Akie's Family Restaurant?" "Why, of course," the girl replied brightly. "I was just heading over there, myself, to meet someone. You can just follow me, if you like." "We'd really appreciate it, thanks." Tegan returned the girl's friendly smile. "By the way, I'm Tegan Jovanka, and this is Nyssa." "Pleased to meet you both. I'm Eimi Yoshikawa." She gave a formal bow, the motion causing something in her pack to clatter in an oddly familiar way. ---- With a degree of pushing and shoving and considerable shouting, the police managed to get the two ADF troopers out through the milling crowd and into the paddy wagon. They sat there, hand- cuffed and helpless, Doug still teary-eyed and gagging, Diane with a wistful look on her face. "Well, well, well," gloated Inspector Zenigata as he looked them over. "It looks like your little plan has miscarried, Lupin. Heh heh heh." "Umm, sir," said a uniformed officer. "This man doesn't really look like Lupin, you know?" "Of _course_ he doesn't!" Zenigata roared back, nearly blowing the man's helmet off. "Lupin is a master of disguise! You don't expect him to just wander around looking like himself, do you?" The Inspector gave Doug a disappointed look. "Although, to be honest, I'd have expected a better disguise than _this_. I mean, look at that ratty ponytail. It's so obviously fake, it's pathetic. Why, just look at how much superior Fujiko Mine's disguise is." He cocked a thumb at Diane. "She has not only dyed her hair, but has managed to reduce her height and bust size, as well." This was not the Adric Defense Force's finest hour. ---- "Somehow, I wouldn't have figured you for a Matsumoto fan, Ember." The pair sat in the middle of the slowly-filling theater. Since it was still a while yet until showtime, they were carrying on a low conversation. "Are you kidding? I grew up watching 'Star Blazers'. I knew about Gamilons and wave-motion guns and Iscandar long before I ever heard of Daleks or TARDISes or Gallifrey, sugar." Adric chuckled a little at her obvious enthusiasm. "I just meant that 'Space Battleship _Yamato_' doesn't seem like the sort of thing most girls are interested in." She blinked at him for a moment. "I'm not like most girls," she said in an oddly flat tone. "No, you aren't, are you?" For some reason, there was a strangely tense silence. "So," she said at last, "what makes _you_ a Matsumoto fan, sugar? The cool machines? The weird technology?" "Actually, no. It's--" He stopped himself. "You'll laugh if I tell you." "No, I won't. Promise." She held up two fingers in something that looked almost completely unlike the 'Scout's Honor' symbol. "Weeeell..." He debated not telling her. It wasn't the sort of thing he felt like he could tell to just anyone. But, she did promise not to laugh. Maybe she just might understand, after all. "It's... the heroes." "The heroes?" She cocked her head, not quite getting it. "It's... oh, this is silly." He stared straight ahead for a moment, then went on. "It's like... all his heroes, Kodai in 'Yamato', or Tetsuro in 'Galaxy Express 999', or Captain Harlock... They're what I wish I was, what I always wanted to be. They're... they're _heroes_. They're bigger than life. They always do the right thing. They don't let things stand in their way. They don't let their doubts get the best of them. They don't always win, but they don't ever give up. They're _heroes_. They're... everything I'm not, but wish I could be." This last came out as a mumble, with Adric staring at his boots. He sighed heavily, then looked over at her. "Stupid, isn't it?" he asked in a toneless voice. She chewed at her lip for a moment, unable or unwilling to meet his eyes. "No," she said. "I don't think it's stupid. Not at all. You... aren't the only person who feels that way, I'm sure." There was another silence, heavier than the one before. This time, it was Adric who broke it. "So, how do you suppose old Leiji's going to screw up 'Yamato' continuity in this one?" Ember snorted a laugh, and the mood lightened a little. "The way he's been going, I'd just about bet you either Harlock or Maetel shows up in this one, just so he can snarl up 'Captain Harlock' or 'Galaxy Express 999' continuity as well." "Really?" Adric arched an eyebrow at her. "I'm betting he brings Admiral Okita back from the dead. Again." He thought for a second. "You know, I can relate to that, actually..." ---- "Well, here we are. Akie's Family Restaurant." Eimi shrugged out of her backpack as Tegan and Nyssa eyed the place. It seemed like a typical restaurant, but Nyssa's practiced eye picked out the tell-tale signs of recently-patched bullet holes around the front door, while several of the windows seemed to have been very recently replaced. "So, the food's supposed to be good here?" Tegan asked. "Oh, it's delicious," chirped Eimi as she sorted through her pack. "The staff leaves a bit to be desired, but it's really a good place to eat." Nyssa cleared her throat. "Ahem. Uh, someone hasn't been doing a bit of shooting around the place, have they?" "Oh, just me, the other day," Eimi replied. Straightening up from her backpack, she held up an enormous gun which she was just finishing putting together. "That's why that clattering noise in your backpack sounded so familiar," Nyssa said. "That's an Armalite XAR-18E, with atta- ched M-203 grenade launcher, isn't it?" "Mm-hm!" nodded Eimi happily. "Nice. What are you shooting in it?" "Winchester .223 armor-piercing, every third round a tracer." Tegan eased away from both girls. "Just what are you planning on doing with that, Eimi?" she asked nervously. Eimi shrugged. "The same thing I always do. You two may want to wait just a minute before you go inside." She closed her eyes, took several deep breaths, then let out a long, witchy laugh that made Tegan's skin crawl. When her eyes opened again, Nyssa and Tegan could see that they were now glowing red. Hefting the huge rifle, she stomped over to the door and kicked it open. "Oh, Android NK-1124!" she yelled inside. "Come out and play!" This was yelled around a grin that would have made Atilla the Hun suggest therapy. "Eimi-chan!" piped a cheerful voice. A split-second later, a magenta-haired girl in a waitress's uniform barrelled into the little maniac and caught her up in a flying tackle-hug, knocking her into the parking lot. "Good evening, Eimi-chan! You come to visit Nuku-Nuku at work?" Eimi was pinned beneath the older girl and was writhing and struggling like a woman possessed, trying to bring her rifle up to bear. "I'm here to kill you, NK-1124!" she screamed. The waitress giggled and gave Eimi an affectionate swat on the shoulder. "Oh, Eimi-chan, do you still want my body?" Nyssa and Tegan shared a look. "That's right!" Eimi shrieked. "I'm going to kill you and put my superior brain in your body!" Nuku-Nuku smiled and replied, "How? Nuku-Nuku's brain is semi-organic, and yours is a purely electronic construct mated to your SNK-98 chassis." She gave the trapped Eimi a playful poke on the nose. "Papa-san could probably do it, but I kind of don't think he would if you killed me. You never change, silly Eimi- chan!" With that, she started tickling Eimi's ribs. "HAHAHAHAHA! Stop that! HAHAHAHA! Stop... HAHA! ...tickling me! HAHAHAHAHA!" With a sudden heave, she pitched the grinning waitress off of her and leapt up, rifle aimed at Nuku-Nuku's midsection. "I'll worry about details later! First things first, you obsolete model! Die!" The XAR-18E chattered harshly as tracers streaked through the air toward Nuku-Nuku. Who wasn't there anymore. "Impressive," mumbled Tegan from behind a mailbox as she watched the waitress do a high, arcing flip through the air, coming down just behind Eimi. Before Eimi could turn, Nuku- Nuku had the rifle by the barrel, pointing it straight up. "Now, now, Eimi-chan," she admonished gently. "What have we told you about playing with high-powered rifles when there's people around?" "I don't care! I'm a homicidal maniac, you idiot! I don't care about anybody!" She struggled to twist the gun away, to little avail. "You aren't a homicidal maniac, Eimi-chan," Nuku-Nuku said, giving her a pat on the head with her free hand. "You're just a little high-strung sometimes. And Nuku-Nuku knows you care about somebody else..." "No, I don't!" "Oh, really? What about Ryunosuke?" Eimi's cheeks went red to match her eyes. "Never you mind about that!" she screamed, kicking behind her. A middle-aged man poked his head out the door, giving Eimi a wary look. "Miss Natsume, is everything all right out here?" "Just fine, sir!" Nuku-Nuku chirped happily. "Eimi-chan just wants to play for a while. Is it okay if Nuku-Nuku takes a little break to play with her?" "You go right ahead, Miss Natsume," the man replied nervously. "Just make sure you don't 'play' too close to the restaurant." "Yes sir!" With that, she hefted the kicking, yelling girl and flung her across the block, toward a small park, then went boun- ding off after her, giggling the whole way. "You know," Tegan mused as she and Nyssa went inside, "I keep getting the weirdest feeling of deja-vu from that Eimi girl..." "Oh, don't start,"said Nyssa crossly. ---- Across the street from Akie's, the man who really, seriously was not John Travolta kept watch, sipping occasionally at a bottle of mineral water. ---- "Actually, I'd have to say I like 'Galaxy Express 999' more than any of his other works." "More than 'Space Pirate Captain Harlock'?" Ember asked skept- ically. Adric nodded. "Believe it or not, yes. 'GE999', I think, has a more varied storyline. I kind of like the more episodic style, with all the parts linked by the common themes of Tetsuro's quest and his growth into manhood." "I can see why," Ember replied, then looked abruptly surprised at herself. "Eh?" "Well," she replied, "it's kind of like your own story, isn't it?" She spoke slowly, as though the idea she was expressing was so novel to her that she was having trouble accepting it. "A young, orphaned kid sets off from home on a journey into the Universe, accompanying a powerful, mysterious stranger who always seems to know a lot more than she lets on." "Hey, that does make sense. I always liked Tetsuro best of all, because he's just a mixed-up, naive kid to begin with, like I was. Although, I think Maetel was a better mentor for him than the Doctor was for me. Prettier, at least." Adric grinned to show he was mostly, but not entirely, joking. Further conversation was cut off by the dimming of the lights as the curtains opened and the projector began to roll. In the dark, Adric missed the odd look his companion was giving him, almost as though she were grappling with some inner difficulty that was centered on him. ---- When they woke up, the WANKERs were in Hell. Not that they realized this just yet, of course. "Ugh. This place is a dump." Darren wrinkled his nose in dis- taste. "Can I ask a question, guys?" That was David. "What's on your mind?" Darren replied. "Anybody have any ideas where we are or why we're tied to these chairs?" "Perhaps I can answer that," a dangerous voice purred from behind them. All four craned their necks to look as a young Japanese man walked around to stand in front of them. The room's lights glared off his glasses in an effect that would have seemed rather sinister to anyone with an ounce of perception. These being the WANKERs, they were naturally affected in a completely different manner. "Uh-oh," Eric hissed, eyes big, "I bet he's one of those weird Canadian sex-perverts, and he's tied us up to have his way with our innocent bodies!" "AAH!" Tyson yelped, straining at his bindings. "I'm too young to be ravished!" "Silence, infidel dogs!" the man screamed. "You are here to be punished for your sinful transgressions!" "'Infidels'? Hah! Do you know who w