A beautiful young woman silently surveyed her prey with callous and uncaring eyes. No emotion, as usual, it was how you kept going in a profession like her own. Not many could do it, almost everyone on the planet lacked the essential qualities for the tasks that were constantly falling upon her. They didn't have the patience, the sharp character and the abnormal drive to get a job done, and done well. Nor did they have the guts. What an old phrase that was, she wondered where it had come from. 'Guts'? Ah well, time to figure that out later, she had a job to do.

As soon as she received her orders it was always the same. It was as though she tuned out from the entire world. She wasn't really participating in what was about to occur, it was more like she was watching it from afar, and most of the time, she was utterly horrified at what her body was being forced to do, but the pain was eased slightly when she realised who exactly it was that she was killing, and of course that it wasn't even really her who was doing it.

The door to the motel room opened slowly, and a blonde woman's face peered out, the same woman that she had watched enter not even sixty minutes ago. As she picked up the features of the young, but worn looking woman, she noticed the faint tinges of bruise and blood on her once pretty face, and it caused an upsurge in anger that was normally absent. This guy was a real bastard.

It was the girl's own fault really, or some might choose to say, shouldn't be messing with these sorts of characters. Just some criminal's mistress who got what she deserved. That was the kind of crap people like the scum in the room opposite her own usually said. It made them feel like there was absolutely nothing wrong with what they were doing. She pushed the feelings of anger and hatred further down into her being, and reached for that callous nature to resurface.

As soon as that woman was out of earshot, the man across the way would be meeting his end. It was no more than he deserved. He probably blamed the girl for what she got as well.

She placed her small set of binoculars on the table beside her, and pulled the curtains in her room fully shut, and opened her door just a crack. She watched, her breath completely noiseless, a trait she had picked up after what seemed like countless years on the job. Although it was far from it. How long had she been forced to do this for?

Too long.

The young woman was now hurrying along the road outside of the motel, checking over her shoulder for any oncoming traffic, and then proceeded to cross over to the other side.

Quickly, the woman hidden in the motel room slipped out of her door, and left it slightly ajar, a pencil holding it open by mere millimetres. That would allow her a swift retreat back to the confines of her lodgings for the night.

She ran her finger along the cool black lines of the weapon in her hand, the one that had served her so well, the one that he gave her. She had never done her job with another, and this one was somewhat a lucky charm for her. She padded around the balcony that held the doors to the rooms on the first floor, clothed in all black, complete with bobble hat, another one of her objects that she now felt brought her good fortune. Her slender frame made no sound, nor did any of the other residents for the night take in the presence of a black attired assassin running about. It wasn't as though they were expecting one. They needn't worry.

Unless they'd been bad.

She now stood at the door of her next target. This one certainly was a bad egg, she had done her research on him. Name? Who cared, he would be dead in a few minutes. All that mattered was that he had killed, but unlike her, not for righteous reasons, as she constantly told herself. Her reasons were righteous. All done for the correct reasons.

Plus, he was a known drug runner, extortionist, et etcetera, et etcetera. The usual stereotypical gangster stuff. And then of course there was the poor girl that had left a few minutes earlier. Her timing had been perfect, the well trained killer had a lot to thank her for, she had left the door unlocked.

Slowly, trying to eliminate the creak in the door's hinges, she pushed it open. The motel room consisted of a considerably sized living space type of room, with a television, lamps and a sofa, the usual stuff, and this led out to a bathroom and a bedroom. She could see him there, sat on the corner of the bed, engrossed in what was on the television in that room and allowed a smile to grace her beautiful lips.

Poor guy was going to die watching the Disney channel . The police would have a riot with this one! A real hoot. Her footsteps were silent as she approached, but she allowed herself a little fun, stepping down hard at one point.

"I thought that I told you to piss off!" He hissed through clenched teeth. She could almost taste the stench of sweat reeking off him, his fat body causing him to sweat at even the easiest of tasks, even sitting on a bed watching television.

He obviously thought that it was his girl back for another visit. She grasped the pillow in her hand tighter, the one that she had decided upon using when entering through the door. She had a suppressor on her gun, but this way it would be even quieter and make much less mess. She didn't want to trouble the over stretched police department any more than she would have to. Normally she hated silencers, they were so impersonal, but this was a crowded place, and last time she had done one like this she hadn't used one, and had very nearly been caught out. He hadn't been happy at all after that. Only a bit of flirting and a flash of a bit of leg had got her out of it.

"Piece of shit..." She whispered, and he turned around sharply, a look of pure terror, anguish and confusedness mixed onto his bloated face. The dark clothes and black leather gloves had been a bit of a give-away, the gun in her hand the clincher. He was about to be killed. By a beautiful woman. In a bobble hat. He moved to get up, but his own weapon was back in the bathroom with his jacket.

She moved quick as a flash though, years of practice beating his years of wallowing in his wealth. She placed the cushion to his head with her left hand, and pushed the gun hard into it with her right, and pulled the trigger. He fell back onto the beige carpet, his eyes wide open. She dropped the item in her left hand onto his chest, letting it fall onto his chest with a light thud, ready for the motel manager to discover tomorrow afternoon, badgering him about payment.

Smiling to herself, she left the room, pulling the door behind her, but leaving it slightly ajar, as it had been when she arrived, and went back to her own door that also lay slightly open, and after undressing, fell into a dreamless, contented sleep. A job well done indeed.

Have you ever simply looked around yourself, and actually looked? Looked at every single thing in a room that you are in, taken it all in, catalogued it all, taken note inside your mind, committing it to memory, ready for later. Son Gohan had. Detective Son Gohan did that a lot. It was his job, he was supposed to notice things, and he did so with unerring accuracy, something that had led him into becoming one of the most widely respected detectives in all of Orange Star. His city.

But lately, things had been different. He had been looking at rooms, and seeing things. Things that really should not be there, Everything in those rooms had simply been wrong. That was the only way he could explain it. They were warped, out of shape. Right now he was looking at the oddly familiar shape that was the area of wall that lay above the door of his bathroom.

He stood in the shower, the curtain pulled back slightly to allow him a clear line of sight to the wall in question. Since when did the door look as though it was sinking into the ground on one side, or that one side of the wall was growing upwards. He stared incredulously at it for a few more moments, until the ringing of his telephone stirred him from his thoughts.

Quickly jumping from the confines of his shower, switching the water off, and wrapping a towel around his wet body, he picked the ringing object up, and placed it to his ear.

"We got another one Gohan." The voice told him.

The tall male nodded to himself, he had had a feeling that there had been another last night, he had felt it in his bones. "Our Little Helper?" Our Little Helper was the affectionate name that had been given to the assassin that was running around the city whacking all of the major criminals that the police had too little evidence to prosecute. The attacks had been coming far more recently lately.

"Mm-Hmm." The voice answered. He nodded again, knowing full well that the man on the other end had no idea what he was doing, the action was more to reassure himself more than anything. He thought to himself about what would happen when this guy was caught, if he was ever caught. Never a shred of evidence was found, as of yet they had no leads, but despite the victims' dubious lifestyles, the police had now been warned to scale up their efforts.

On deciding that he was washed enough, he strode over to his wardrobe, picking out one of his crisp, brand new suits. After eating a hastily prepared breakfast, consisting of a couple of boxes of cereal, straight from the packet, he opened the door to the outside world. The sun hit him quickly, and he shut his eyes to shield them from burning in the light. Every god damned morning he opened that door and got hit by the thick blaze of light.

He turned around a hundred and eighty degrees, and reached for the sunglasses on the table by the front door. His stereotypical detective ensemble now complete, his jacket in his hand, he sauntered out of the building and towards his car that awaited him on the roadside. With the remote locking system, he unlocked the door to his new car, and stepped inside, tossing the jacket onto the back-seat. He wasn't the type to hang it up on a hanger in the back window. It would just get covered in blood today anyway.

Gohan pulled up to the drive through at his local fast food restaurant, his stomach already rumbling, despite his more than ample breakfast. After giving his order into the voice box, he leant back into his seat, awaiting his meal. His thoughts wandered back to what he would have to do today.

This killer had evaded the police for many months now, leaving not even a shred of evidence in the rooms that they had attacked within. There had been no rhyme nor reason to the attacks, one month there might be none, the next there could be half a dozen.

After receiving his order from the booth, he threw the bag down on the seat beside him, picking a burger out without looking. He went motoring along the streets at high speed towards the motel where the crime had been committed. Driving was easy for him, maybe it was the years of martial arts training with his mother. Everything always seemed to be in slow motion to Gohan, be it cars, people, or even bullets - that he seemed to have a knack for avoiding.

He let a long sigh escape from his lips, thinking back to those days. He had grown up without a father for most of his life, it had just been his mother, grandfather, brother and himself. Sure, that seemed enough for some people, but without his father it was never enough.

Despite his mother's wishes, which were of course for him to become a world renowned scholar, he joined the police force, and became a detective soon after finishing his time at the academy, owing to his superior intellect. He had obtained a Master's Degree at eighteen for goodness sake, he was a genius.

He had been present the day that his father had died, and maybe it was that moment when he decided to dedicate himself to the protection of others in some form or another.

His father, Goku, had died protecting other's lives as best he could, and he died doing what he loved best, saving people's lives

It had been the first day that Gohan would be visiting the inner city, and he had never felt so excited in his entire life! Apart from the occasional flight on Nimbus to Roshi's Island or Capsule Corporation, where he had never even left the compound, he had never even left the countryside in all of his nine long years. All of them were going together. His grandfather, his mother and the baby inside her and himself. And of course his father, that was what mattered most, as long as his daddy would be there too.

They had all been walking together, Gohan between his mother and father, both of them flanking him protectively, despite the boy being more than capable enough to handle himself. He dragged his parents everywhere, this was so different to the small villages that lay nestled in the woods near his home.

As they wandered along the busy streets of Orange Star, screams, shouts and sirens could be heard. Gohan had felt himself pounding away at the floor with his feet as his instincts took over and he followed his father towards the direction that the noises emerged from, his other parent and grandfather close behind.

Skidding to a halt in front of a large building, Gohan looked up. Flames could be seen licking at the walls of the building on the first floor, and a small number of police officers were attempting with all of their might to restrain a couple of the residents of the building who were frantically trying to get back in, most likely their loved ones were still trapped inside, and the fire service were still only their way.

Goku, his natural tendencies springing to life, turned quickly to his son. "Stay here and look after your mother. Promise me that you will not move." Gohan nodded quickly, following every and any order that his father might give him without hesitation. The man ran forward, easily brushing past the two policemen desperately holding back the young mother whose two year old daughter was stuck inside, a teenage boy attempting to reclaim his twin sister, and a young man who had only just left to collect some groceries when the gas leak had ignited, his pregnant wife still inside.

Gohan's grandfather followed his son in law quickly into the building. He himself was still in good shape, his years of martial arts training allowing him to maintain his powerfully built body. It was through him that Chichi had met Goku.

Gohan watched his father bursting through the front door to the apartment building, the man's father in law only a few yards behind him. He viewed in awe as a few minutes later he emerged with a young girl even younger than himself and a pretty girl of about fifteen, soot and dust covering her features. The older man emerged just behind him carrying a twenty something, heavily pregnant woman.

A short conversation now erupted between the two men. The police were helpless, they didn't have the expertise or know-how to handle this situation, and the fire service were fifteen minutes away.

Gohan found out later that Goku had said he heard another inside, and instructed his elder to wait outside. There was no time to argue, but Gohan's grandfather wished afterwards he had stopped him, even if there had been a hundred left inside, but a hero's soul cannot be put down so easily.

Moments later, Goku was at the window, and lowering an unconscious young girl, perhaps the same age as Gohan from the window to the awaiting arms of his old friend. The hallway had collapsed, and the distance was too great, and the floor below far too dangerous to jump down to. As the young father began hesitated, checking the room for any signs of life, another of the buildings gas fires exploded.

Goku died instantly, the sheer force of the explosion far too great for even his well trained body to handle. Gohan was completely silent as his mind went blank, the screams of his mother not even heard, despite his proximity to the woman.

He violently shook his head, removing thoughts of that tragic day from his current thinking. He didn't need that sort of thing on his mind. After that, things had been tough emotionally, but luckily the family could survive easily. Chichi was stricken with grief, and didn't emerge from her depression until her second son was born, when she took care of him full time, leaving her job as a chef. The house was already paid for, it being her father's, whose ample savings kept the family going until she went back to her job when Goten was a year old and Gohan began his first stint of schooling.

Pulling up to the scene of the crime at the dingy motel, he stepped out of his car and tried to spot his partner in solving crime on the courtyard. Looking all around him, as he always did, taking all things into account, he spotted one of the female police officers stepping straight out into the middle of the road. With a resigned sigh, he realised who it was. And what could have been. Quickly looking up and down the road he saw a dark saloon coming down at breakneck speed.

The woman in question obviously hadn't seen it, and he remembered instantly exactly what she was like, she was always doing this.

Sprinting over to her as quickly as his body allowed him to, he ran straight into her side, sending her sprawling, and went to ground with her as the car sped past, inches from the two of them.

After twisting in the air a little, Gohan and the woman landed harshly on the ground. While in the air he had managed to place an arm beneath her back, to soften the landing, and a hand on the back of her head, so as not to allow her to smash it on the concrete as they landed. He lay there staring into her beautiful blue eyes for a few moments, relishing the feel of one of her slender legs between his own two, the other one bent, knee upraised, her thigh brushing his hip suggestively.

His hand had managed to make its way into the soft folds of her pitch black hair, and their faces were only inches apart, her warm breath tickling his lips, daring him to kiss her like he wanted to.

"This brings back some good memories." He whispered to her, for her ears only, and he saw her eyes flash with remembrance to those days, days that no one else knew about.

Immediately a shadow appeared above them, and Gohan turned his head slightly, seeing the entire police presence in the area staring right at the two of them, his partner Ezra, a dedicated detective in his early forties stooped over them, a broad smile captured on his face.

He bellowed a hearty laugh, one that Gohan knew well. "I knew that you wanted to sleep with Officer Satan!"