This is the new fic I'm working on. I like it so much, and I hope you do too! Let me stay right now that there is drug use, language, and sexual references, so don't read this if you're a little kid!!! It's not for you!!! Go away! BAHH! There, I warned you, so lay off.

The plot is this: AU VH Roomates Izayoi and Yukari are a stripper and a working gal struggling just to survive when they are witness to a brutal mob murder. Undercover special agent Van Fanel must protect the girls (and his heart) without blowing his cover and getting all three of them killed. Izayoi's lost memories are they key to unlocking conspiracy that could shake the very city to its core.

This is a VERY alternate universe and is set in no where in particular, just a grimy back city alley with lots of crime.

Just to let you know, I get bored with stories easily, so I probably won't continue if I don't get much feedback.

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne, so shut up.

Izayoi exasperatedly pulled herself up the final few steps of the stairwell that led to her apartment, angrily making notes in her head of every fire and health code violation Mr. Mugazi neglected to fix.

Yous don't like it, then get the hell outta here, he would say whenever she complained about the cracking plaster or grime covered hand rails while letting his enormous gut bounce as he laughed at his own idiotic joke. She knew that he stared at her when she turned on her heel and march away angrily, but she was satisfied knowing that he would never have the satisfaction of having her satisfy his statutory lust.

Now she shoved her key into the lose key hole and made sure to jingle the chain loudly. It wasn't that opening the door was difficult. In fact, the lock was so old that one good shoulder shove would make the rotting barrier give way. She just wanted to give her roommate fair warning that she was home and it was time to put away the coke or needles or get dressed and show whoever was in her bed to the fire escape.

Izayoi opened the door just a crack to make sure no one was in the living room. A broken couch, dusty night stand, old pizza boxes, cracked TV, VCR with 12:00 blinking rapidly, dirty floor, lamp with broken bulb. Everything was as usual. She swung the door all the way open and took the liberty of a noisy entrance, knowing by the quiet look of things that Yukari was probably alone. Tossing her keys on the night stand, she pulled off her shoes, letting her tired toes feel relief from the pressure of her high heels for the first time in almost ten hours.

As she passed though the hallway to her bedroom, she caught a glimpse of herself in the crack mirror on the bathroom door and couldn't help but study her appearance. Her sandy brown hair was pulled tightly back after spending the night teased and piled up with a dangerous amount of hairspray. Her green eyes shone brightly in the dim light from the street lamp outside now that she had wiped off the thick globs of eyeliner and mascara Coco had applied when she first arrived at work. Her overcoat hid her low neckline blouse from embarrassing her with its millions of rows of cheap red sequins. Her faux crocodile miniskirt, however, was is full view of all her disapproving neighbors, especially the self-righteous Mrs. Sasaki, who always had a few choice words for the girls when they came home during the wee hours of the morning.

Izayoi halted at the end of the corridor, turning the knob quietly as she remembered that Yukari had stayed behind because she had the flu. "Just come in, Izzy," she heard the red-head say in a stuffy nosed voice. "I haven't slept since you left."

The other girl walked into the dirty room, adding to the clothes that littered the floor as she slipped off her work wardrobe for an old shirt and comfy shorts to sleep in. She darted under the covers and wrapped an arm around Yukari, both desperately needing each other's warmth at night ever since the heater had broken. She felt her roommate's frail frame relax against her fuller physique. Guys she danced for at the club oftentimes bought Izzy dinner, some because they felt the need to take care of her and some because they felt a need they wanted her to take care of. Men who paid $20 for a BJ in the back seat of a car, however, did not usually take it as their responsibility to keep Yukari healthy.

On top of that was a two-month-old argument they girls had had when Izayoi was chewed out by Mr. Magazi in front of several other tenets about "a couple of teenaged no good tramps who thought they were old enough to fuck total strangers but not to pay the rent on time" had almost made certain a harm winter season for Yukari. Not yet recovered from the embarrassment, Izayoi had burst into the apartment to discover Yukari doing lines with a trick. They had a screaming match there and then about the misappropriation of funds, all while the startled junkie struggled to pull up his pants and snort up a crooked line at the same time. In the end, the girls agreed only to put in their equal halves of the rent and buy clothes, toiletries, and even food on their own.

Yukari was stubborn and proud, and not even the unrelenting cold of winter could shake her resolve to keep their deal. As the temperature dropped, so did the number of customers stopping by the slender schoolgirl's turf. It seemed that the sleazy men of summer nights preferred to curl up with their wives and girlfriends on chilly evenings, and Yukari spent lonely days and weeks on a street corner in a mini dress and worn out windbreaker once the seasons changed.

Even now, after having lost 20 pounds since October, a dangerous drop for someone who usually only weighed about 110, the girl still refused to eat what Izayoi bought no matter how many goodies and favorite treats she stuffed in the fridge. Izzy often emptied out the refrigerator at the end of the week, feeding the trash can with gallons of spoiled milk, blocks of moldy cheese, and loafs of stale bread. Sometimes she could hear Yukari sneak out of the bed in the middle of the night, scrounge for change, and do her best to quietly make her way across the squeaky floor boards. In the morning there were wrappers from sticks of butter in the kitchen from the Stop-n-Shoppe a few blocks from the complex, only 48 cents for four bars of life-sustaining goodness.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Izayoi turned her back to Yukari, the deep raspy breaths a sure sign she had finally found sleep. The brunette pulled the short chain of the lamp on the floor near her side of the mattress, causing a dim dirty light to spill into the room. She pushed a black rubber spike-heeled boot off a worn green folder, felt around for a pen, and flipped over to the pages inside. Laying on her stomach, Izzy used her mouth to pull off the pen top and read the heading of the first application.

Suzi's Family Bakery

Name?

Ummm…Izayoi…Haragashi? Yeah, that sounds good.

Position desired?

Kitchen assistant. Or should I put waitress? No, bakeries don't have waitresses. Let's see…Kitchen assistant it is.

Experience?

Poverty, crime, and pettiness. Yep, that about covers it. But seriously, experience, experience… Lap dances, pole dancing, serving cocktails seductively. But YuYu said only put what applies to the type of work I'm seeking. Hmmm…None.

References?

Should I put YuYu? Maybe Mr. Kim from the club. No, I wouldn't want Mrs. Suzi to call my reference only to hear "Shake Ya Ass" in the background. I can hear that call now. "Yeah, Suzi baby, put her in something tight and I can guarantee those cooks won't be filling those donuts with no grape jelly." Eww. Mr. Kim is out. None.

Last place of employment?

Ugh…this whole thing is against me. None.

Have any family members previously worked for Suzi family restaurants? If yes, list names as dates of employment.

Izzy paused for a moment, feeling a familiar sting in her eyes. She crumpled up the application for a life outside her rat hole of a world to the floor and let the folder fall to the floor with a slap. She turned on her side, back still to Yukari, and looked out he dirty window to the half moon. Wondering what it would be like to see the moon from a different bed, she toyed with the tear shaped pendant that she wore around her slender neck. Right this minute there was probably a little girl slipping into bed with her mommy and daddy because she couldn't sleep. They probably made a nice cozy space for her between them and all snuggled up together against the cold.

Izayoi felt hot tears stream sown the corners of her eyes, warming her chilled skin. She turned on her back and fingered the inscription on the gold point of her pendant. Love you, Hitomi. Whoever she was, Hitomi was probably sleeping in a nice warm pest-free house right now and had forgotten all about the little trinket that had been swiped from her by Izzy, probably next to the person the necklace was intended for. Maybe Hitomi had given it to her mother, or her daughter. Maybe even her husband.

Whoever she is, she sure as hell isn't thinking about me. Izzy turned back to YuYu, once again combing her warmth with her only friend in the world, her only family.

Have any family members previously worked for Suzi family restaurants?

"I wish I could remember," Izayoi said to the air that was blowing into the room from the crack in the door.