AN: Just wanted to make it known that I've taken to mixing the British and American terms for some things. Basically, spoken dialogue will have the British word, anything written will use the American word. This is because, at least in my area, Nicktoons Network changed these words and later brought them back for some reason. So I thought it would be fun (and funny) to combine them. If you find this weird or awkward, send me a note. Thanks!

Chapter One

~*~

The thermos of tea sat cradled in her hands as she waited patiently for the next customer to come in. It was a slow day, but that was pretty typical for this place. F.U.Z.Z. was a rather funny name for a store, or anything that didn't involve an animal, but to 23-year-old Anita Knight it was quite cute and fitting to its demographic. Situated on a small corner in London, it didn't get the most traffic or harbor the most stylish of clothes; even the inside showcased its dated nature and that a budget for fixing every little problem was pretty minuscule. Paint was chipping in places, the dark wooden furniture and register area looked like it hadn't been updated in decades. However, it seemed to add a touch of charm, as opposed to the plastic and impersonal world of large chain department stores.

A small bell rang out and Anita turned to see her coworker, referred to only as Kowalski (as per her request, believing it somehow made her cooler), walk through the main entrance with a bag of fast food and a smile.

"Hey, Anita," she said. "Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

Anita smirked. "If you count a man falling off his bike, and a confused tourist asking where they could find the closest 'burger joint'".

"In other words, I didn't miss a thing." Kowalski plopped down on the stool beside her and sighed. "When will anything ever happen around here?"

A very good question, Anita thought. There was no mistake that she had fun with her job - being around children and helping make their day brighter was a welcome part of her life. But at the same time, it was about as interesting as watching a caterpillar crawl over a leaf. It was nothing to call or email somebody about, and it didn't make her feel as though she was actually changing the outcome of something important. Just what kind of occupation did this (besides, perhaps, a company executive, teacher or social worker), she wasn't sure. Maybe a super spy, Anita wondered in amusement, but that's only in the movies.

"So, are you closing tonight?" Kowalski asked, interrupting her friend's inner dialogue.

"Yes, I think so." She sipped her drink softly, using her free hand to tap her fingers on the counter in front of them.

A few moments later, a middle-aged woman who looked like she'd just run five miles came in, breathing hard and oozing desperation."I need a last minute birthday gift!"

Kowalski promptly stood, pushing her lunch aside for the time being. "I'd be happy to help you, ma'am." Then, to Anita she said, "I'll take this one, you just finish your tea."

~*~

Anita wasn't one of those workers who dreaded staying until the last possible hour; actually, it was almost poetic. The store had twinkle lights decorating the windows which were turned on when it got dark, giving the impression of night stars. It was something one couldn't see very well for real with all the light pollution of the city. She liked looking at them and becoming lost in untold stories. To those who knew her, she was a pretty strong-minded and capable woman who didn't care too much for dressy, girlie things. That didn't mean she had no appreciation for art and culture, however; she was a romantic at heart. And with even less traffic than the daytime, she wasn't interrupted too much.

But tonight would be different.

It started out normally. Once she was the only employee around (the store didn't have many people on the payroll, and no more than two were ever there at a time. It was a wonder how they even stayed afloat) Anita did some habitual dusting and refolding of clothes that had been carelessly put back, among other things. A CD played classical music on a small stereo.

So lost in her routine was she that the bell hanging above the door went unheard, and so she was completely unprepared for what happened next.

"Nobody move!"

Clutching at her chest and feeling her heart rate speed up rapidly in deep panic, she whirled around to see a young man with his hands up in the air. At first she assumed the store was being robbed, and so prepared to protect herself (it didn't hurt that she'd taken several karate classes and knew some good disabling moves).

"Just who do you think you are? Explain yourself!" she said hostilely. "I don't like thieves and I'm not afraid to take action." She did a small kick jump to emphasize her point.

He took a second or two to look at her and tilted his head, as if he hadn't expected such a reaction. "I'm Victor Volt, and this is official business!"

"Official business?" Anita still kept her hands and arms in a "ready for battle" position, but figured she'd humor the strange person that had caught her by surprise and perhaps stall for time. "For who?"

"That's for me to know and you not to know. Stand aside, citizen, and allow me to do my work." Ignoring Anita's annoyance, he briskly walked forward and scanned the place.

Judging by his accent, I'm guessing he's American, though I can't say from where exactly, Anita thought. The man who called himself Victor was also donned in the most unusual clothes she'd ever seen. What sane and practical person wore a skin tight (save for the bottom of the pants, which flared out like bell-bottoms), dark blue full body suit, complete with a belt and boots? Not something that would instill trust in the hearts of men.

She followed him very closely as he wandered through what few aisles there were, occasionally sniffing or poking something and recording whatever he was finding in a small, cellphone-like device.

"Look, I don't know what you want, but I doubt you'll find it here, Mr. Volt," she said.

"It's Victor. Mr. Volt makes me feel old," Victor said, still speaking in a serious tone.

She frowned. "Victor. You can't just come in and do whatever you like. Either leave or I'll ring the authorities." He didn't appear to have heard her, picking up a handful of baby socks and sticking a pair on his large nose. "Hey, are you listening to me?"

"Are you there? Professor Professor? Hello?" He was speaking into what was clearly not a communication device (the same pair of socks that was on his nose), when she tapped him hard on the shoulder. "Not now, citizen, I'm busy."

"It's Anita. And don't call me that."

Once he'd finished his little task he looked her straight in the eyes. "Anita. What I'm doing is important to the pursuit of justice of the earth."

"What, checking for lint? What could possibly be here that's so important?"

"Shhh. Did you hear that?" He paused, putting a finger to his lips, and checked the area cautiously. But Anita could only hear the stereo moving to a Mozart track (hardly threatening unless you disliked the composer), forget something he might consider a danger to them.

"I don't hear anything." She raised her eyebrows high in curiosity. What would he do next? Was he here to act like a clown?

"Get down!" Before she knew it, Victor had grabbed her arm and pulled her down to the hard wooden floor with him. Flinching on impact, she immediately rubbed the spot where his hand had been.

"Just what are you doing now? That hurt!"

Victor didn't bother to apologize, focusing his attention on the entrance. "It's not safe for me to be here anymore. I have to go."

She smiled wryly, standing slowly up and dusting her knees. "Yes. Do go. I have a job to do and you're not exactly making it easier."

His eyes roamed back and forth in indecision before he darted to the door. "Remember my name. I'm Victor Volt, and I was never here!" With a slam of the door, he was gone.

"I'm not so sure I even want to remember," Anita muttered to the silence. As she surveyed the damage he'd caused (clothes on the floor, a lingering smell similar to week old pizza, among other things), she grumbled and ran her fingers through her blond hair. But she couldn't deny that, for once, her evening hadn't been the same as any other.

~*~

"And then as fast as he came, he was gone. Honestly, the man was mad."

It was the next day, and Anita was retelling her experience to Kowalski. She'd been distracted that morning, making mistakes such as sorting things in the wrong sections and giving a customer 50 pounds in change, so her friend had sat her down to spill it all.

Kowalski winked. "I don't know, those dust bunnies can be pretty cunning."

"I hope I never see him again," Anita said. "If I never see him it again it will be too soon."

"Awww... but he was cute, right? They can't be all bad if they're cute. Besides, he really shook things up." Kowalski pouted. "I wish it had been me."

He was rather good looking, Anita admitted to herself. Not model handsome, but few girls would call him ugly. His hair was a light brown - a sort of tan color in writer's terms. His body had been healthy and acceptably thin from frequent exercise. And really, he hadn't seemed like he'd meant any true harm. But still, he was weird, and that was that.

Days passed, then weeks, and soon thoughts of Victor the oddball slowly left to the point that he was merely a fuzzy memory tucked at the back of Anita's mind (a "fuzzball" as Kowalski had cleverly dubbed him, mixing the two words for her own pleasure). But the blessing in disguise had only just begun.

Just who is Victor, and will they meet again? You'll just have to see! I hope you've enjoyed my story. If you find any errors or feel anyone acted out of character, please let me know. Reviews are always appreciated :)