Yusuke Urameshi was not having a good day and if one more thing happened he was going to blow the cause all the way to the Spirit World. He tossed his jacket onto the back of the couch and threw his keys onto the end table where they skid across the top and landed on the carpet. He sat down and roughly pulled off his shoes tossing them haphazardly near the doorway before lying back with a loud grunt.

Despite being a government worker, Yusuke still had to deal with idiots who didn't know what the hell they were doing. They seemed to be intent on getting themselves sliced, diced and served on a silver platter to a salivating demon. Killing a demon was not as simple as pointing the gun and shooting. Yes, sometimes it was, but the skilled demons were much tougher. In some cases they were also bullet proof. These kids they kept sending him may be the best in their class against humans, but demons were another ball park.

He was the designated demon expert and fighter in the government. He had no complaints about it, he could come and go as he pleased, he got to fight demons that caused trouble and he only answered to his boss. Mr. Katashi simply made certain he did what he needed to and left him to his devices. He never breathed down his neck and asked him to do things he was uncomfortable with.

He was appointed to train various men in the basics of demons. Sometimes he'd be required to give the military a quick session on 'how to detect demons 101' and 'taking the buggers down 203'. Other times he'd be given up to twenty men looking to be part of the special forces formed to take down demons. He'd run them through a twelve month course and, usually, by the end he was left with five. Some of them simply couldn't stomach the things he'd witnessed. He could never bring himself to blame them.

The only thing about his job that pissed him off, on days like today, was when he was requested to take a few men for 'field experience'. If they hadn't been training for at least a year and had already faced a demon once before, it always ended badly. If you missed the first shot and the demon comes at you, just drop your gun and kiss your ass goodbye unless you can pull a trick out of thin air like he was accustomed to doing.

He cursed as the bandages around his wound pulled slightly causing the injury to sting. On top of all that his truck, the old junker he'd used since he could afford a car, had been reduced to nothing more than scrap metal. The men all survived, but his truck paid the price.

Yusuke pulled his bloodied shirt off and strode to the hamper. He pressed a button on his answering machine and listened to the messages as he went into his room to change.

Message one: Yusuke, it's Katashi. I would like you to come in early tomorrow. Miss Shwine is inquiring about a few things that concern you and please, if not for her sake then for mine, behave.

"Yeah, yeah," Yusuke muttered.

Message two: Yusuke, are you sure you don't want me to set up that date for you? I think the two of you would get along well; she's also quite a looker. Oh, sorry about your truck. Heard its dead…..finally. Call me back.

"For the last time, no!" Yusuke yelled at the inanimate machine as if it could carry his voice to his co-worker. He wasn't surprised that Jensen sounded relieved that his truck was dead. It had been the ugliest piece of junk, but it had been all he could afford at nineteen. He kept it simply because it had been his first truck, he'd been attached. It never let him down and hadn't ever needed to be towed despite looking ancient. "Guess I should start looking at trucks tomorrow," he sighed. He was too tired to drag his feet out right now. With his paycheck he could afford a nice ride and have it customized if he so wished. A grin splayed across his face as he thought about it.

He deleted the messages on the machine and made a mental note to chew Jensen out when he went to work tomorrow. If and when he decided to start dating again he'd choose which chick he'd pursue, if at all. He'd much rather have a partner…a mate who'd take all aspects of him. Human, demon and fighter alike. Someone who wouldn't try to tie him down, but could be there alongside him as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. It was a little much to ask for he supposed.

He opened the fridge and promptly shut it with a snap. Amidst his grumbling, cursing and pains he had forgotten to pick up groceries.

"Easily remedied," he grinned as he picked up the phone and dialed. Take-out was always part of the life of a bachelor. That, he mused as he glanced at the hamper, and waiting until he had nothing to wear before washing.

III

I've re-thought this story through, have a more defined plot-line and might even be able to stretch this for two fanfics. If my muse keeps up that long. So, Mechs and Demons is back and re-modified! My love for Transformers is strong and my interest in this parring has been re-kindled. Thank you for being patient with me for taking so long and I hope you enjoy the new version just as much as the last.

I realize the chapter is short, but I will try to keep them fairly long. It's just the introduction really.

Transformers (c) Hasbro

Yu Yu Hakusho (c) Yoshihiro Togashi