It was an unusually quiet and cold summer night at the Tokyo branch of INTERPOL; the normal local-crooks were hiding in their distorted dens of scum and villainy and the Tokyo Metropolitan Police seemed to have the same sort of quiet. None of the officers seemed to notice the strange sudden stop of criminal activity in the area and gladly took their night off elsewhere. Those who needed to stay on station in case of an emergency sat at the break table on the second floor corner office and chatted away with each other; exchanging stories of family and crime of books and movies.

The station had many desks in the larger main room on the second floor; each with a state of the art computer (turned off or sleeping at the moment) resting next to the silent phones and the paperwork in the "IN" and "OUT" bins. The bare concrete gray walls made the room seem cold and unfeeling; which was great when a crook was escorted to the cells or the interrogation room but the officers wished that they could paint the walls a different, livelier color or at least move the cells downstairs.

The break room, which was located on the right side of the room near the corner of the back wall, was their chance to feel at home and thus looked quite different than the stone office. The walls were an orange color that reminded many of a warm sunset at the beach. Corkboards of comic clippings and funny jokes hung upon the left wall for the amusement of the officers as well as a very expensive coffee machine which had just been donated anonymously.

The officers had checked the stores to make sure that it wasn't stolen and when they discovered that one was purchased in cash by a young French woman a few days ago, they raised their mugs and toasted to the unknown and VERY generous patron.

"So, who do you think it could be?" asked an Detective, who's badge read "Jacque Picard" in a thick French accent, his brown eyes glancing over at the machine, "if it is someone we know?"

A man, with a red mustache nearly dipped in his coffee mug, waved his hand in the air as if he were swatting at a fly. "Why does it matter?" he said in English, he began to laugh "look at us; we've practically got the night off from chasing down international crooks and dirt bags and what do we do? We try to figure out who sent us a coffee machine!"

The others joined in their laughter; they were all detectives of INTERPOL and all had their brains wired for puzzles and mysteries. Perhaps it was a curse of the job that they couldn't go for an hour without trying to solve the first thing that caused questions.

A Russian man put his hand on the smooth stainless steel machine, "We've got nothing else to do," he said as best he could in English. "Besides, what's the harm? If anything we can thank who ever donated this to us."

They all nodded and smiled in agreement, they began to mutter to themselves and think in their past of who it could be. They thought about who they had recently helped, who would have the money to purchase such a thing and who wouldn't leave their name on the package.

"What's up, Maksimov?" asked Picard to the Russian Detective upon seeing his expression suddenly change from entertained to worried. The other officers turned to Maksimov, their eyes and faces sparkled with curiosity and excitement.

Maksimov didn't say anything at first; he looked away and muttered to himself in his native tongue, choosing his words wisely before turning back to the others and speaking in a language they all knew. "This station, it isn't my branch." He said, "I don't know when I'll be coming back here but if the coffee machine was for me, it would be at a place where I knew I would be going to."

Their faces fell as they understood what he was getting at. "So, what you're saying is that because it was sent here it's for someone who's stationed here." Summarized Detective Hall, sharing a frown as he put his mug down on the worn wooden coffee table; Maksimov nodded.

"Hey," said Picard, blinking with a curious look upon his face, "I just realized something; this was already set up when we arrived." They all looked off into space, recalling earlier in the day when they had just begun to come in.

It had been a slow day the night before and the officers didn't expect to have anything when they arrived on the premises, only to wait for orders to return back to their home branch. They were surprised upon reaching the second floor to find another officer setting up the metal machine for them.

The officer had smiled and introduced himself as Detective Al Ivy from the INTERPOL's Italian branch; he explained, with a twinkle in his blue eyes and a smile on his face, that the package had come in through the mail during the last few hours of his evening shift with a note explaining that it was a gift for a hard working officer stationed at the Japanese branch of INTERPOL. When asked why he had set it up by the other officers, he shrugged and said he had nothing else to do, before clocking out and heading home for a good day's rest.

"Did anyone else see the note?" asked Hall, as he and the others began to look around for some sort of envelope or letter that should have been left behind for them to read. They opened the cupboards and Hall even attempted to look under the machine, chance it had somehow slipped underneath in their excitement or during the assembly.

Suddenly, Picard groaned. His hand was over his eyes as his head faced towards the white ceiling of the break room. The others asked what was wrong; he lowered his head and closed his eyes, an expression of annoyance crossed his face "Does anyone know that officer?"

One by one the officers shook their heads. The French Detective walked out of the break room and into the vacant, cold, unfeeling room with the air of a man on a mission. The others followed him as he sat at a computer and began typing furiously away after waking it up from hibernation.

"You think you know who it's for?" asked Hall as he looked over Picard's shoulder to the screen.

"I don't THINK, I KNOW who it's for and I THINK I know who sent it and if I'm right then we've got to keep our voices down." He pointed do another door on the right.

The group of Detectives looked over to it and as soon as they glanced at the name on the door they were all on the same page.

The room he had pointed to was the office of a very frustrated Inspector who had dedicated their life to the point of being obsessive over a single criminal. The Inspector, although had failed countless times to apprehend the criminal, had great respect in INTERPOL for the soul reason that no one else ever got as close as they did. This "Criminal" was no ordinary common crook; this was a thief, a MASTER thief; a genius against the law and impossible to fool, not to mention infamously honorable and somewhat kind to others to the point that it somewhat mocked the police and other governmental law-enforcement units.

The sounds of snoring reached their ears from behind the door; the Inspector was sleeping for once but if they even so much as breathed the name "Lupin", hells furry would wake up faster than they could say "Crap" in Japanese.

Picard typed as softly as he could, fearing that any change in the environment's sound would trigger the Inspector's built-in alarm clock. He and the other officers felt the heat rise, their palms began to sweat as their adrenalin began to pump though their veins and into their brains. The computer seemed to take an agonizingly long time to load the data from the database mainframe; its thoughts seemed to clunk, whirl and echo in the stone room.

Finally, Picard found what he was looking for; opening a file labeled "CONFIDENTIAL: 167" and imputing his security code, the data loaded up onto the monitor.

They had heard of Lupin, no doubt about it; more than once they had crossed paths with the Inspector on the trail of the thief and had even had brief encounters with said-thief. But what they found in the file that contained all the known information surprised them all.

The date of birth was unknown; the height was an observation, the weight was a guesstimate, the hair color was unknown, there wasn't even a descent photo available and the only pictures that were offered were blurred and poorly taken. The information that was on hand stated all the crimes he was wanted for, which ranged from Grand Larceny to Impersonations (the list was several pages long) to mocking Police Officials to recently driving a motorcycle though the Vatican. The list of charges went on and on, amazing the officers as the list continued.

Then, finally, at the bottom of the page, stated: "RUMORED TO HAVE BEEN SITED IN TOKYO, JAPAN." The date was just four days ago.

The officers groaned, the coffee machine wasn't from a grateful citizen but from Arsene Lupin!

AND not only was the coffee machine meant to piss off Inspector Zenigata; it was more than likely purchased with the stolen money an Italian Mob Boss mysteriously lost during his arrest last week, along with stolen jewels, gold and other assorted illegally obtained valuables.

Detective Maksimov swore under his breath and groaned loudly, the palm of his hand making contact with his forehead emanating a sharp SMACK on impact. The others looked to him, "Detective AL IVY?" he questioned them "from the ITALIAN branch?"

Detective Hall rolled his eyes, doing his best to keep his voice as low as possible, "Don't tell me that was Lupin!" his hands flew up to his mouth as the name left his loose lips, the others stood still as statues for a moment. All turning around they faced the door where the Inspector continued to snore loudly beyond the door and after a few more moments of statue-life, they relaxed.

"Sorry." Detective Hall apologized quietly.

"Well, what do we do now?" Asked Maksimov, "The Inspector's going to find out sooner or later and this was obtained some-what illegally."

Picard, who apparently had been appointed leader of the situation, thought for a moment before whispering, closing down the file on the computer, "I'll tell Zenigata in the morning, no use getting worked up when the poor gi-"

A sudden sound began to echo from somewhere in the room, the sound of a phone-ring tone that they all had heard before at least once. The detectives, simultaneously, turned towards the door with wide-eye stares, knowing what was coming and powerless to stop the tempest.

The song was "That's Her" and no sooner had the first line ended did the sound of Japanese swearing vibrated from the lair of the beast which quickly accompanied by a yell and a loud crash; obviously the chair the Inspector had been sleeping in had just fallen to the floor.

As the second line began the door burst open and a gust of wind seemed to blow from the figure that stood in the doorway.

The young, angry and determined Inspector Haruhi Zenigata, ninth generation of the Zenigata family to join the police force, had been awakened in the worst possible way and you could bet that that one way or the other, someone was going to wind up in handcuffs before the night was over.

The Inspector practically leapt over the detectives, homing in on the ring tone with the aid of her canine-like hearing, her dark brown French-Persian coat, it's six shiny black buttons unfastened and the tie around her waist trailing like a tail behind her, blowing in the air she cut through. Just as the song reached "Who's got the kind of charisma that the boys prefer?" she pulled a yellow flip phone from the depths of the recycling bin.

Recalling what a man by the name of Shakespeare had said on "Hell hath no Fury" and "Women scorned" the middle aged men quickly ran for cover elsewhere and out of sight of the angry Japanese Inspector as she flipped the phone open. She scowled even more as a familiar chirp announced the flipping of the phone that imitating a communicator once owned by a Captian Kirk fellow.

After adjusting her grandfather's hat which she put on top of her black hair, she waited for a moment after the song stopped buzzing from the phone; the line was open and no sound was heard though the receiver. But she knew better than to think that Lupin would hang up on her after taking the time to plant a cellphone in her HQ, they both waited for the other to make the first move.

Finally, Zenigata broke and raised the phone to her ear with a death-grip.

"Hello?" she said in Japanese as she made her way to a computer and pulling out a link from the desk drawer.

"BONNE SOIR`EEEEEE, HARUHIIIII!" Yelled an enthusiastic female from the other end of the line in French; "You've been sleeping for a while, thought I'd help you out and suggest you head home for the night; it's not good for your back to sleep like that."

THE ICE THIEF

PILOT CHAPTER

Zenigata gritted her teeth as she stormed back into her office; blurred pictures of a young woman with a blue knitted snow-cap were pinned on a corkboard next to a world map covered in red marked circles. Lists of sightings, theories and other hints placed next to the calendar on the opposite wall. Next to the window peered the wanted posters of two girls viewed in mug shots; the one with thick spiky red hair, sticking out from her goggles wrapped around her head, glared from the wall with a smirk while the other short and somewhat out of shape girl seemed to be on the verge of an emotional breakdown from behind her thick coke-bottle glasses.

"I'd sleep on a bed of nails if it was necessary to catch you, Lupin!" Zenigata picked her chair up from the floor around the desk which was covered in discarded chopsticks and empty canisters of cheep coffee.

"I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, kid." Said the tricky thief from the cell phone, "You're a big part of why this is all fun. You nearly got yourself killed last week, what were you thinking? It's not safe to fly into power lines while you're paragliding, especially during a thunderstorm!"

Zenigata sat into her chair and turned on her computer as the thief continued; "I almost didn't get you the coffee machine, god knows you're already jacked up on it enough. Ever thought about switching to decaf? The machine has that option, I made sure of it. It also does espressos! Not that I know what any of that tastes like, since I don't drink coffee."

"YOU bought the coffee machine?" she yelled into the phone, rising out of her chair quickly, causing it to fall to the floor again with a THWUNK!

"Yeah, bought it two days ago; it's the whole reason I came to Japan! This place has THE best EVERYTHING! SERIOUSLY!"

Zenigata trembled with rage as it dawned on her that the man she helped bring the large box up with that morning seemed to be too friendly to be a stranger.

"YOU'VE GOT VENDING MACHINES FOR I-PODS! Do you know how many of those I've seen in America? ONE and that was in a Macy's up in Washington State! You're SO lucky you're Japanese! I'm only half Japanese and it doesn't even show; I'd get the WORST time if I actually lived here."

"I'll try to find some way to get you a cell here if you love it so much." Zenigata's computer was ancient, she needed to keep Lupin talking so she could plug in the cell phone and find where she was calling from. "Bet that machine was purchased with Machiavelli's stash that vanished when I caught him. You do know I was going after YOU, right?"

"You needed to arrest SOMEONE! Your bosses were being real pricks, besides, Machiavelli had it coming."

"YOU have it coming."

"I don't kill little kids or innocent bystanders. The only blood I have on my hands is the blood of criminals who have lost their humanity and forgotten about honor. THOSE are the people I steal from; same as by father, my grandfather and my Great grandfather before me."

"And the museums?" Asked the Inspector, grinding her teeth again.

"Most of the items that have been "Generously donated" are obtained though the black market and most of them have been looted; I only go after South American items when I go into museums, if you haven't noticed by now. By the way, you also need to do something with your office, I glanced inside and saw the place; it's a friggin' MESS. You used to be a neat-freak as a kid, remember?"

"We also used to be friends." Said Haruhi coolly. "Remember that, "Elle Porter"?

"Well, THAT was before the house burned down. Once you find out that your only living relative is a master thief and you have to choose between him and an orphanage, the choice becomes obvious."

"Lupin's hyper tonight…" observed the Inspector as she input her password to the computer. Lupin was normally calm, cool and she only yelled when she was surprised or angry. Zenigata thought through as her user page loaded; "Lupin gets hyper when she's happy or when she's eaten lots of sugary items. She enjoys eating and cooking but also she hasn't been this lively for about six months now. The last time this happened I spotted-"

"Arsene, what are you doing?" called a voice from the other line in a thick Scottish accent just as the Inspector connected the phone and the computer together with the link "our food's up!"

Haruhi began clicking furiously as she was determined to trace the signal of the cell phone with the few precious remaining seconds she had left of the conversation.

"Oops, sorry Haruhi-chan! Dinner's up! Say "hi" to Gramps for me!"

"Hey! LUPIN!" yelled Zenigata, attempting to draw Lupin's attention back to her for a few more moments; but it was in vain- once Lupin had good food in front of her, there was no way in hell she was going to pay attention to anything else. The signal died as the thief hung up; but not before the computer kicked in at the last second to give the location on the detailed map the screen displayed.

Haruhi Zenigata looked at the map in wonder and anger as she realized what section of the city her nemesis was in; it was actually the local small business restaurant just across the street from the office she sat in.

Bursting from the door with a long rope in her right fist and a pair of sparkling metal handcuffs in her left, she grabbed Detective Picard and Detective Hall from their hiding place in the gap behind the soda machine and dragged them both out of the building yelling at the top of her lungs to get some more hands on to assist. She descended the stairs, her black converse hitting the sharp shiny linoleum as she hit the floor of the first story; without even giving so much as a nod to the officer on duty at the front desk, the Inspector flung the doors open and ran into the dark, gray and somewhat lonely streets of Tokyo towards the restaurant's glowing neon sign.

About three minutes later, curses in Japanese cracked the restaurant's front windows as an abandoned cell phone, which had been left behind moments ago, slammed against the glass and shattered into a million pieces.

Ten minutes later, in the same district yet somewhat more distant from INTERPOL HQ, two girls continued to chow down on the to-go ordered Japanese cuisine of fried rice and fish. The one who managed to use the chopsticks correctly was staring out into the black night sky with a faraway look in her eyes, a hand on her chin and her blue-knitted cap placed firmly on her head with three hair clips ensuring it stay there. This dreamer was in fact the very same enthusiastic thief that had called just to tease the Inspector not too long ago.

This girl was Arsene Lupin the Fourth; great-granddaughter of the great Arsene Lupin and daughter of the infamous Lupin the Third.

Carrying on the family business from the age of six, Arsene grew up on the run with her father and his partner, Daisuke Jigen for a few years before setting out on her own. Arsene is an acrobat, taking the advantage of her double-jointed bones and using it to sneak into places undetected. The most unique thing about her is her eyes; perhaps proving Darwin's theory of evolution, her eyes seem to change color depending on the clothes she wears and the light she is under.

She has the capability to think against computers and crack the most complex of codes but she is not the best re-programming or hacking them, like her father. Instead, she uses her knowledge on human physiology and psychology; waiting and watching, much like a scientist would, to predict her opponents' behaviors and uses her presence to control how they behave. Also, she is quite well known for having a big entrance and a quiet exit; as well as her skills on a motorcycle. She enjoys driving her yellow and blue Triumph as much as she loves eating foods from different cultures.

However, despite her good looks, she doesn't do much with it and actually cross dresses in loose and baggy clothes in 90% of her disguises. It is once in a blue moon that Arsene will ever wear anything "Girly" or uncomfortable. Her father often calls her style somewhat "Bohemian" and she's damn proud of it. Nevertheless; she wears similar style apparel to her father while on the job. A blue jacket, cut short to a woman's size, over a black tie and a teal V cut shirt. Her dark blue Dickey's jeans, made not of jean but of cloth, matched the blue laces of her black and white Vans.

Not that many people outside of family and a handful of law enforcement officers know her to be a Lupin; in fact, due to her preference to colder climates and cooler weather, she is more commonly known to the public as "The Ice Thief".

Brilliant, dangerous and about as prejudice towards men as possible, despite her low self-esteem, there is very little Arsene Lupin the Fourth can't do. As long as she doesn't have to go into strong winds, her greatest fear.

"HEY!" yelled an angry looking redheaded Scottish woman from beyond the sliding glass door, which separated the balcony with the penthouse hotel room, "Can you let me in now? It's starting to rain!"

Arsene sat on the red couch closest to the door, expressionless for a few moments before raising an eyebrow and yelling back "Depends. Have you stopped smelling like a cigarette?" She couldn't help but smile on the inside as the Scott began to throw a fit in such a thick accent that the only words she could understand was "Friggin'" "Paranoia" and "Shower". But she knew what she was getting at.

"Well, if you just took a shower then the shower would smell like cigarette smoke and that's even worse." Arsene rose and walked over the clutter that littered the carpet to the glass door. She flipped the latch and jumped out of the way as the spiky haired smoker attempted to grab the acrobat in a headlock. The woman lost her balance and began to fall to the floor, her brown goggles slipping down to cover the scowl plastered upon her face directed towards Arsene.

This woman was one of the two girls, whose mug shot rested on Inspector Zenigata's wall; Arsene's most dependable partner: Isabelle Shaw, or "Izzy".

As the most talented driver of the two, Izzy specializes in doing things with cars that most people would think impossible; growing up in a family of mechanics contributed to her skills as such. Many people would think it ridiculous for a car to leap over tire spikes and drive up cliff sides, but Izzy has the uncanny capability to take any car apart and turn it into Speed Racer's Mach 5 (given the time and the proper parts).

She's not just limited to driving, however. In addition to being handy with disguises herself, she's also Arsene's right hand gunwoman. Izzy carries two twin pistols: two Double Action Nagant M1895's on the holster inside her dark maroon vest, a favorite in old Soviet Russia. Able to use three different types of ammunition, but prefers the .32 Smith & Wesson Long. Once upon a time, she was a punk kid with an itchy trigger finger who was being blackmailed to stay where she was: until a grumpy gunslinger with a beard sorted her out and put her on the right track.

Her style has remained the same after years on the outside of the law; her spiky red hair sticks up out of the tight loop made by her brown goggles. Her dark skin brings out the color of her green eyes and the black tank top matches the gray jeans she wears with her red Journey shoes. But while she looks tough and is prone to leap without thinking with a short fuse, she has a kind heart and it goes out to those who need it.

Living on the run with Arsene means that they live in constant panic. There is rarely a day where they can sit back and relax; or in Izzy's case, smoke a cigarette to ease off the built-up stress. Arsene's most reliable partner is Isabelle Shaw.

After landing on the floor, the hot-headed the Scott grumbled a few choice words into the carpet she was facing. Arsene shook her head as she sat, perched on the back of the red couch like a bird of prey looking down at the world. She liked her friend and her short temper was a great source of entertainment occasionally, but sometimes she wondered if Izzy would ever learn to cool down just a tiny bit. The short fuse became dangerous when they were working and it wouldn't be unusual for the job to go awry thanks to her temper.

The Ice Thief sighed, admitting that she too had emotional battles that resulted in her botching the job; she had to learn to not be so uptight but at least she was aware of it.

"Say, Arsene." Said a voice from the cream colored chair placed at the other end of the room next to a brightly decorated Tiffany lamp "Are we leaving soon? I thought you said we'd be leaving at nine."

Izzy opened her mouth to say something sarcastic, but as quick as a camera flash, the thief jumped from her perch to the chair. She stood over her, the shadows crawling up Arsene's face with a murderous glint in her eye; "VOUS ÊTES ALIÉNÉ?" she yelled, seizing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

"J'AI DIT QUE VOUS SOYEZ SUR LE COMPORTEMENT DE VOTRE MIEUX LA DERNIÈRE FOIS QUE NOUS ALLIONS RENCONTRER MON PÈRE ET MA JIGEN! VOUS AVEZ DIT "JE NE RIEN À GÊNER VOUS OU MOI OU IZZY" ET DE CINQ MINUTES, FRIGGIN' CINQ MINUTES APRÈS LES INTRODUCTIONS, VOUS DEMANDER QUEL EST LE UKE ET DONT UNE EST LE SÈME!"

Izzy rose up off the carpet quickly and rushed to the pair; attempting to pull Arsene off their team mate who was currently flustered and thoroughly embarrassed with herself from behind her thick coke-bottle glasses, but otherwise fine despite the shaking.

This girl was the face of the woman in the other wanted poster; Janelle Cagliostro.

The thirst for adventure, the refusal for a pre-determined life of royalty led her out into the world in search of her "Knight", brought her to him and Arsene and left the throne to her younger brother. Janelle is not as fit as her partners, due to her slow metabolism and her previous life of luxury which she didn't ask for. Even though she's becoming more enduring of their activities, she still has a long way to go before she's able to fit in vents or slip through windows. Her appearance is round around the middle, wearing a green coat with many deep pockets, a brown shirt beneath that and simple blue jeans with lace less, brown Airwalk shoes.

While she's not able to fight, she has an arsenal of small electronics and a fine talent for computer reprogramming/hacking that makes up for her lack of movement. In this day and age of computers, the world is literally at Janelle's fingertips. Due to her knowledge of governmental procedures, she's able to locate anything and everything within a few short minutes. Not to mention she's excellent at hacking security programs as well as controlling a few remote controlled devices; such as her personal favorite RC chopper.

In addition to computers, she's also a bit of a pyromaniac. Watching Mythbusters as a kid inspired her to become the team's demolition's expert and with a little practice she can do some pretty wicked things with her small bombs and fireworks. Even though she can't fight, her bombs and small RC's can do some serious damage. However, she has many fears; the fear of flying is one she is learning to get over and she is prone to panic at really bad times when things seem to be going downhill.

Unfortunately, Janelle also has a Yaoi fetish; which can lead to some pretty weird things to come flying out of her mouth and the girls know better than to even think about looking in the images folder on her laptop. In fact, more than once, a job has gone astray due to her perverted mind.

Dependable, determined to keep her friends safe and prove her worth as an ally, Janelle Cagliostro's will is unbendable once she puts her mind to it.

"SAVEZ-VOUS COMBIEN DE FOIS J'AI EU DE PRÉSENTER DES EXCUSES À EUX?" Yelled a very distraught Arsene as she ceased shaking Janelle by the scruff of her jacket. She leapt down off the chair and stepped a few feet away, her back turned to the pair. She turned around sharply and suddenly, making Janelle jump in surprise and grabbing her attention again.

"C'ÉTAIT LA PREMIÈRE FOIS J'AVAIT VU DANS LES ANNÉES ET VOUS ALLER ET TOTALEMENT RUINER LA SOIRÉE ENSEMBLE, SEULEMENT POSANT DES QUESTIONS SUR SA VIE SEXUELLE, MAIS SUPPOSONS QUE MON PARRAIN ET IL SONT GAYS! COMME L'ENFER VOUS ALLEZ AVEC US! VOUS ET VOTRE ORDINATEUR INFESTÉ DE YAOI PEUVENT RESTER ICI ET SUIVRE!"

At last, Arsene seemed to end her rant and took a deep breath before marching over to the couch and collapsing into it head first and burred in the green throw cushion. A few more moments in silence passed before Captian Obvious stated what needed to be said.

"Sorry lass, I didn't understand a word she said. I don't speak French." Said Izzy, turning to Janelle as she fixed her pigtails which had been thrown over the back of the chair by the g-force of Arsene's voice; Janelle shut her laptop.

"She just reminded me what happened the last time I went with you two to meet Mr. Lupin and Mr. Jigen." Janelle's face turned red, she quickly rose from her chair and started walking towards the white door to the bedroom.

Izzy looked at Arsene and took her reaction into consideration before walking over to the glass door again "Well, that perverted fantasy of yours and that runaway mouth led you to claim that my mentor and Arsene's father were gay."

Janelle stopped short of the door as Izzy added "and together".

A solid minute passed before she collapsed on the floor in total embarrassment. "I know, I deserved to get shot at, kicked out of the third story window and then chased by a motorcycle though heavy traffic into the river."

"Not by Arsene. Then again, maybe she was showing you mercy; compared to what would have probably happened if Mr. Lupin or Jigen acted before she did." There was another long pause as Izzy continued to look at her reflection in the glass. "You know, I actually think she's protecting you; you're safe here and who knows what they'll do if they see you again."

The rain pounded on the window a little harder as Janelle rose up from her gloom and doom with a gleam of hope and happiness in her eyes. "Really?" she turned to the Scottish woman, clutching her green laptop in her arms like a stuffed toy. Izzy bit her lip and readjusted her goggles. She had just said that to make her feel better. She couldn't stand it when Janelle, the sheltered, scared; puppy-eyed princess looked at her with such innocence.

Izzy placed her goggles over her eyes, blurring the image before her.

Janelle smiled, knowing that Izzy only did that when she was confronted with a question she could not answer. Turning back to the bedroom door, where her other equipment lie, she opened the door and flipped on the light. She stopped and stood like a deer in the headlights as she found herself face to face with a black haired, blue eyed, young man dressed entirely in black. The same look was pasted upon his face as he had his back to the safe which held all their valuable stolen items.

She screamed a loud, ear-shattering shriek that would make any horror film proud; within the time span of a few seconds; Izzy had drawn both her seven-cylinder pistols, moved Janelle aside and had rolled into a low crouch on the ground, ready to fire. Arsene had sprung up off the couch, somersaulted over Janelle's head, drawn her Walther P38 from her shoulder holster and pointed it at the man.

The young man laughed a nervous laugh. "Oh…hello ladies…horrible weather we're having this evening, aren't we?" he said in Greek.

"Has he busted the safe, chief?" asked Izzy asked, ignoring the young man entirely.

"No," said Arsene with a hint of amusement in her voice "but it looks like he was close. You're losing your touch, dude." The man smiled and winked at Arsene.

This man is Arsene's rival and her reason for her male prejudice; Emanuel Gaspard.

A lone thief trained in the style of ninjutsu, Gaspard steals from the same kind of people Arsene and her gang targets; this leads to a rivalry between the two. Sometimes he is an ally and other times, an enemy. The girls don't trust him and they have every reason to; seeing as he quite often backstabs them and takes the prize for himself.

He is handy in many ways, however. Able to fit in with any crowd and has a wide range of favors to call upon and his own creativity has saved Arsene more than once in the past. As a male, he can fit into positions that the girls cannot fill, no matter how much effort they put into a single disguise; an expert con-man, who plays on the hearts of women and men alike.

However, Gaspard has set his sights on one love; the love of Arsene Lupin the Fourth. The "Hard to Get" type seems to turn him on and he will stop at nothing to grab her attention. He believes that the rivalry they play is just a form of foreplay and doesn't get the fact that it's not. In fact, Arsene hates his guts.

Perhaps it is the genes of Arsene's mother which attracts men like Emanuel Gaspard to her.

"Wink at me again, Gaspard, and I'll shoot you where your pride is." Arsene said blandly and as clear as possible. The smile on Gaspard's face fell instantaneously as he caught the look in her cold eyes.

"I see why they call you "The Ice Thief" now. You've got a heart as cold as ice."

"I'm only cold hearted towards people who have abused my trust and good nature." Arsene pulled her gun away and stepped forward; the other two women did the same, yet knew better than to completely relax yet. "Why are you really here? I know that if you were here for the jewelry, you would have easily been able to hide from Janelle."

Gaspard relaxed, casually removing his black shirt and pants, revealing a basic black suit underneath with a red tie. "I heard that you were going to go meet your father tonight, Lupin." He sat at the edge of Arsene's bed, propping his right leg over his left thigh and putting both arms behind his head. "You know how much I look up to him; he was the one to inspire me to become what I am today." He laughed in his throat as he fixed his neck-length black hair, "Besides, I would like to pay my respects to my future father-in-law."

Arsene gritted her teeth, pulled her gun out again and took a clean shot, placing a bullet in the wall just a few millimeters left of Gaspard's head. Gaspard slowly turned from the bullet in the wall to the barrel of Arsene's gun with a petrified look as he noticed Janelle had caused Arsene's arm to move slightly as she took her shot.

"Ok…maybe not." he said as he shakily rose from the bed and made his way to the bathroom, feeling the bottom of his stomach begin to heave.

Arsene put her gun away, turned to Janelle with a knowing look in her eye that said "keep him here." Before she and Izzy both exited out of the bedroom and out of the penthouse.

Janelle turned to Gaspard, and he in turn to her with a sly look. "So, I've got a few more photos of some Yaoi action. I'll trade you three of them for one of Lupin's bras."

"Are you kidding? She'll KILL me!" Janelle wined, "I won't settle for no less than four."

Meanwhile, the two girls walked down the stairs, both had the strange paranoia of elevators and preferred the exercise anyway. Izzy had her hands deposited in the pockets of her maroon vest as Arsene had her's crossed.

"You know, we're going to have to tell Janelle to leave tomorrow morning." Said Captian Obvious to Arsene "Someone's going to report that shot, not to mention that you're going to need to have a talk with Janelle, bet that she's trading one of your bras for some disgusting Yaoi imagery right now."

"I know…" The Ice Thief groaned, palm-smacking her forehead at her own moment blind-rage; "Gaspard, he's just…He reminds me so much of…her…I see red every time he shows up." Arsene touched her left shoulder and rubbed it, unconsciously.

Izzy nodded, understanding her partner's anger towards people who resembled her mother. Backstabbers like Gaspard never looked too well in Arsene's eyes; having been shot twice in the back by her own mother at a young age and left for dead.

Izzy and Mr. Lupin had talked about it the last time they had come into contact; turns out that Arsene was a normal girl for the first six years of her life. He had no idea she even existed, and her mother, Fujiko Mine, took care of her.

Then, one day, she suddenly turned on her own child, shot her in the back twice and set the house ablaze. If it weren't for Arsene's father, who had been on the trail of his lover for a while, she would have died. Fujiko disappeared and had not been seen since and a seed of hatred had blossomed in the heart of her daughter.

"And I thought MY mother was bad." Izzy thought as they arrived in the concrete parking garage. She noticed how stiff Arsene was now, as they made their way towards a green sheet in a parking space in the corner. Izzy needed her to loosen up if they were going to meet Mr. Lupin and Jigen; otherwise, things were going to get nasty.

"Hey, Arsene." Izzy said, attempting to lighten the mood as the thief pulled the sheet off; reviling a blue and yellow motorcycle with a side car attached to it. "I was thinking about what car we should get next; seeing as we had to drive the Element into a yacht back in Italy."

Arsene seemed to loosen around her shoulders as she put her red helmet on. The helmet was not a standard motorcycle helmet, but a modified one; the bottom half had been removed so that Arsene could talk clearly while driving; the rest had remained the same but a black star had been added on the left side of the red helmet.

"Ok," Arsene said, sitting on the machine as Izzy hopped in the side car. "I know you said the Element was clunky and it wasn't the best at power-driving. So what are you looking for this time?" The motorcycle sprung alive with the turn of a key, the roar echoed in the concrete dungeon and the two began to drive up and out of the area and into the rainy city; it's neon lights flashing and it's citizens huddling under umbrellas and other means of shelter from the rain.

"Well, I need something small; sporty with a lot of horse power, yet something that blends in with most of the cars today." Yelled Izzy over the sound of the engine, wind and rain; they were going to be soaked by the time they reached their destination but the cold was a LOT better than the heat, in their opinion.

"At lot of people recognize us because of this motorcycle of yours. I'd be a lot harder to spot us if we had a car that looked like a car that every young woman would have." Izzy stated the obvious again as the duo slowed down at a stoplight. Arsene smiled, and pointed to a black car that pulled up next to them.

"Something like that?" she asked her partner as Izzy drew her attention to the black, small, sleek Honda Fit. Izzy smiled; it was small, sporty, endurable, and it just simply screamed "Rich-high-end-of-the-middle-class-spoiled-brat-who's-Daddy-pays-for-college."

"That's perfect!" She yelled, leaning back to enjoy the light sprinkle of rain as the light turned green. The two girls drove straight ahead and turned left, driving past the INTERPOL station and the small restaurant with a broken window. Arsene waved to a man inside, which wore a light green jacket and looked annoyed and surprised as he saw Lupin the Third's daughter drive by and had been the source of the ruckus that evening.

Arsene smiled her father's shit-eating grin as the restaurant disappeared around the corner. She looked at Izzy, who had her eyebrow raised with a disapproving look.

"What?"

"Do you have to do that to him?" she asked "you already beat him and put him into retirement; not to mention publicly humiliated him." Arsene shrugged "My Dad threw that match to raise me; I know. But let's face it, when we met him, Yasuo was…well…a huge jerk."

Izzy placed her goggles over her eyes as they turned a corner, "Aye, but that doesn't mean you have to keep picking at him."

The two continued to drive in silence for the next half an hour. The rain would stop for a few minutes and then begin to pound hard again as they drove out of Tokyo and into a more natural side of Japan. A country-esk setting with muddy roads splashing up from the tires was complete with a lone wood cabin perched on top of a Cliffside deep in a forest.

Arsene stopped at the metal gate; the plaque on the stone wall read "Kyon Suzuki Esquire", but the young thief knew well that it was just a prop. She clicked the button on the intercom, placed on the stone. "Hello?" said an old, crackly voice in Japanese. "Who is this? I wasn't expecting any-"

"Hello Papa! Votre fille et son complice sont ici!" Arsene yelled in French.

"Oh." The old voice had disappeared and the voice of amusement, which caused Izzy and Arsene to feel extremely mischievous, spoke in flawless English "Finally, we've been waiting for you for a while. No one's following you three?"

"Actually, it's just the two of us tonight, Daddy. Gaspard showed up, so Janelle had to stay at the penthouse. But she should be here tomorrow morning. And I promise, she won't say anything stupid this time."

"Really?" said the man over the intercom as the gate slowly began to open. "Well, you two must be soaked."

"We are." The two girls said in unison, just now realizing how wet they were.

"I'll get something warm ready then. See you soon." The intercom conversation ended as the motorcycle revved through the gates and up the hill a few more yards before stopping at last in the shelter of the garage where a yellow SSK rested, dry and safe alongside a small yellow car and a blue convertible.

Arsene looked at the mud that had splattered all over her precious Triumph. It would be a pain to clean it off later when it dried but she couldn't leave it out in the rain to wash off due to the side car. Izzy, who had had enough of the rain, walked up the wooden steps to the front door and knocked,

The door opened; the man who had pulled open to greet the girls wore a fire red blazer over a blue button up long-sleeved silk shirt. Tan pants covered his long skinny legs and his black shoes seemed impossibly shiny. His black hair, gelled back, had flecks of gray in it but none the less, his black eyes sparkled with amusement and a shit-eating grin made it impossible for Izzy to not break out into a smile of her own.

"Hello, Mr. Lupin." Izzy greeted as she wiped her feet and entered the wooden cottage. "Where's Jigen?" she looked around for him in the foyer. "I'm in here!" yelled a gruff cranky voice from around the corner. Izzy disappeared just as Arsene finished shaking her head at her vehicle.

"Hello, daughter. How's life been?" asked Lupin the Third to his not-so little girl. Lupin the Fourth looked up at her father and smiled; feeling warm already on the inside. "It's been good." She said, "I'd hug you, but I'm soaking wet."

Lupin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, "It's only water." He shrugged. Arsene held back; even though she had the world in her hand, she always came back home in her father's arms.

"Welcome home, Arsene." Lupin the Third said as he led the Ice Thief inside and closed the door.

Disclamer: I own nothing save for my own OC's.

Ok, I wrote this because I didn't see any solid "Lupin IV's" out there, so I decided to make one of my own and see how people reacted. (If any) It's only a pilot chapter, in a similar style to the original Lupin the Third Pilot episode. I could continue it, but I'd need some good comments before I do, if that's what the people want anyway...