Well, thankfully, I've gotten most of the school stuff I've needed to do out of the way-yay, I get to spend hours writing again! :D

www. youtube. com/watch?v=fsIQZVmKZKU&feature=related

"What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yep. Ken Castle's daughter, Sandra is pissed." He released a sigh. "I'll start at the beginning. We both know Ken Castle was some level of insane, right? I mean, controlling people and releasing it as a video game is a psychotic. His daughter, whom I've had the 'pleasure' of meeting her. She is a little…" he searched for the right word. "I would say insane, but that word alone isn't enough. Not like 'screaming-at-dust-bunnies' crazy, but it's not something subtle. Her father had those nano-thingys in her. He can control her completely, and yet, somehow in death, he's still controlling her."

"Again…what?"

"It seems as if she's trying to avenge his death. She plans on killing all those responsible for her father's death and bringing 'Society' and 'Slayers.' Only, she acts like a robot. She set all of this up."

"What up?" He was still making no sense.

"There's more to this then you know. The government is scrambling to get this technology, willing to get it at any cost. There's people after you, Aydan. Trained professionals, government agents, fanatics, lunatics, and God knows what else. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they build a nuclear missile-a small one, but still, a missile." He shrugged. "Kitty was being controlled by Sandra Castle. And Sandra Castle is being controlled by Ken Castle."

"But how is that possible?"

"He might be dead, but what he left behind lives on. Aydan, I've been finding this information solely for your sake-I've been tracking you, tracking them, and tracking every person you've associated with." If I had been a normal, teenage girl, I would call this 'stalking' but in my life, I called it 'having my back.' If all of this was true, then he was probably protecting me for longer then I've had the job.

I walked forward, and hugged him closely. A honest-to-God, pure smile crossed my face. It had been a long time since I've been able to both hold someone and be held. It felt safe with him, a feeling me, and all humans need.

"So, this is no longer about keeping Simon safe. It's about getting rid of these assholes." I slammed my fist into my palm. "Great. We'll teach Simon how to use a gun, track down these people, and kill them. I get my money after all threats to him are eliminated, and then I'll leave the biz forever, all ties cut."

"Sounds like a plan." He gave a smirk. "Let's wash up and grab something to eat. We'll catch up then-it's been years since I've last talked to you, and I mean really talked. Not about all this serious people-trying-to-kill-you shit."

"Good idea." I quickly got in the shower, wiping away all the blood and grime, and letting the hot water relax my muscles. After drying my hair, I slipped into my now ripped and blood-stained black spandex leggings and cotton black shirt. When I stepped out, Lane looked at me and scoffed.

"You look like you just went on a killing spree." He chuckled.

"I did."

"We'll get you some new clothes. Also, we got a call from the hospital. Simon will be out tomorrow, 8 o'clock sharp."

"Good. We'll pick him up, head back over to the 'states, and hunt down this mother fuckers." He laughed.

"You haven't changed a bit, Aydan. Well, except for a few places, but…" he gave an evil grin.

"And you've been observing?"

"In fact, I have." He winked, and we left the hotel room.

We ended up at a Target, which, though not the best place to buy clothes, was the cheapest. Normally, I wouldn't worry about money, but Lane isn't getting any money from this job, unless I split with him, which I probably will. Right now, however, I wasn't too picky. Anything clean and easy to work in is perfect for me.

"How about this?" Lane said, holding up a lacy bra. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"You are strange, Lane. One minute you're Mr. Southern Gentlemen, then you're the pervert of Australia." I ended up getting a few simple black camisoles, black leggings, and a black jacket.

"You like black, don't you?" he tilted his head to the side while we were paying.

"Gets the job done." I shrugged.

Afterwards, we went to a nice little Italian place-not some big, fancy thing, but just a small place that contained a only a few tables and two person working.

"What have you been doing all these years?" Lane asked.

"Working." I was going to be very vague. One of the reasons I've survived so long is from not revealing any information. "I've been moving from here to there-don't really have a home, though. I live in hotels, pretty much."

"There has to be more to it then that." He grabbed my hand. "You're beautiful, and you'rer telling me you didn't have boyfriends, or at least brought home a few guys?"

"Well, yeah. Of course. But I didn't find that important enough to talk about." I admitted, squirming uncomfortably. "And what about you?"

"I? I've been doing the same as you until recently. Once I heard about Ken, I had to dig around for a little while to figure out what truly happened." That was as far as he was willing to go in public. "What about Simon? Do you recall think we should take him with us?"

"Jealous?" I chuckled. "Don't worry. I'll whip him into shape."

"Well, it's just we're supposed to look out for him. Bringing him into this situation is pretty much the opposite."

"Don't worry. I'll protect him." We chattered aimlessly for a while, ate, and then returned to the hotel room. We met with Ace and Gavin in Lane and I's room at about 8 or so. They gave me the de-briefing-apparently, they've been running around the Earth, following me and getting information, though it wasn't easy as they. They had to beat it out of some people-had to fight their way through underground bunkers, mind-controlled lunatics, and all sorts of bullshit.

They were in as much trouble as I. If their names got out, There would be more people willing to kill them then people who wanted to kill Hitler. That was actually Ace's words-obviously a hyperbole, but probably not too far from the truth.

"They call themselves the Gecko group." Gavin informed us, at which I raised an eyebrow.

"The Gecko Group?" I scoffed.

"The only conclusion I can come to it they think they're 'insuring' America's welfare. Think about it-insurance…Geico? The Geico Gecko?"

"That…is weird." I shook my head in shock. "Why that, though?"

"So anyone who looked in from the outside would think that they work for Geico." Ace shrugged. "We never said it wasn't stupid, only that they chose it. Keep in mind, they're insane."

"Great." Lane sighed. "Once I start killing them, I'll think of those cute little geckos and hesitate."

"They aren't cute. They're reptiles. There's no cute reptiles." I said.

"Well, according to Ms. Shooty-Shooty-Kill." Gavin retorted. I don't know if he was being snide or funny. Both, possibly? I hope so, 'cuz I laughed at it.

"Our goal is to kill Sandra Castle and her army of geckos." I concluded. "Sounds easy enough. Do we know where their base is?"

"In the middle of a desert. In Death Valley." Gavin grumbled.

"Ah! I've had enough of deserts!" I reached out and punched the table. Before my mother sold me, she taught me that physical release is the best kind of release. Better to give someone a bruise or two then to emotionally scar them for life.

"What did the table ever do you?" Ace laughed. "I think I like her."

"If you keep it up, next time I'll punch you instead of the table." I growled. Not in the mood now. I was a few minutes ago when I didn't know all this shit is going on, but now, I was in the killing mode.

"We should probably get some rest." Lane advised. "We have a long day tomorrow-we have two options, however."

"And those are?"

"Ditch the stolen helicopter and get on a plane, or fly all the way to the U.S in a cramped little chopper." Ace explained. "We could get busted for the stolen 'copter, and, of course, they would want our names, but we're just as vulnerable on the plane." Just as he said this, Lane turned the TV on. And, as if a sign, on the news, there was a report of a stolen helicopter.

"Guess we're taking the plane." I smirked. "As long as there's no snakes."

"Do you have some fear of reptiles?" Gavin asked.

"I don't fear them. I had a strong dislike for them. I fear nothing." I answered.

"We'll see about that."

I was glad when they left. I already didn't like Gavin, and I didn't feel trust for Ace.

"He's kind of an asshole." I told Lane when he asked.

"I know what you mean. He's a smart ass, but I needed someone as a medic. You see this?" He rolled up the sleeve on his arm to show a display of scars. "Got carved up while looking for you."

"Ouch." He just shrugged, and rolled it back down.

"You know, I just realized how much I missed you. I mean, with that crazy dude raising us and Kitty, you were the only normal thing I had." He admitted.

"I'm far from normal."

"More so then Namir." He smiled. "Remember when we snuck off that one night after we killed that one dude? The government guy, the one who beat our client in a seat for the House of Representatives. His wife wasn't too happy about that." I laughed in remembrance.

"Yeah. She came at us with a wooden spoon." I smiled at the memory. Apparently, she remembered our faces and tracked us down. We were walking around that small town late at night, and there's this old lady yelling 'You naughty little children!' and swiping at us with kitchen appliances. We didn't killed the poor woman, just knocked her out and left to make out behind a Wal Mart. Heh. Good times. "What made you remember that?"

"Your eyes had that sparkle they do now. The one that you get when you feel evil."

"Oh really?" I narrowed my eyes. "And how am I feeling 'evil'?" He sat down on the edge of my bed.

"I can think a few things." And suddenly, I was back to being 13 again, when we knew of the approaching darkness of our future lives, but our minds were too bright to care, when we didn't think about the fact that we were killing machines and we didn't murder our friends, when those we loved was more important then getting the job done.

When we didn't think about sex, or drugs, or money, or alcohol; when life was so much easier due to the fact that we didn't think any of that effected us. We weren't worried about the world around us, and all I cared about was how cute his eyes were. When, I knew that soon I'd have to deal with life, real adult life, but in those precious moments of innocence and ignorant bliss, I didn't really care.

Feelings I hadn't felt in years, feelings of familiarity and comfort, came back to me. I imagined those were the feelings you get when you hug your mother-a sense of safety and warmth that made you think that somehow, by some miracle, everything would be ok. There was an edge to it though-this was Lane, not my mother, and we weren't children anymore.

Looking into his eyes was like remembering a deeply-rooted, almost forgotten feeling. You know it felt great, and loved every moment of it, and you can recall the emotions you felt, but you couldn't feel them again.

And that was all it remained. A memory.

I could faintly remember what was a tingly feeling whenever he touched me-my skin would crawl pleasurably-and sent pleasant electric waves through me, and I remember it feeling so wonderful, and I desperately wanted to feel that again, but I couldn't make it come back.

I don't think I ever could.

But I still hoped, and that's why when he pressed his lips to mine, I didn't object.

I've had sex before-a few times in order to get information out of someone, but other then that, nothing. It wasn't very pleasant-painful, actually. After my first time, when I was only 16, and had to sleep with some sleaze-bag in order to reach my client, who was being held hostage by drug dealers, I've been turned off it. I assumed it would always hurt.

But after seeing all the romance movies and novels, I guess it can't be too bad, you know, if the guy isn't some sex-hungry drug-addict.

"Aydan?" he asked, stroking my cheek. "I've really missed you. I mean, I know we were only 13, but you were so much better to me then all the other bitches I've tried to care about. It never turned out too well." I chuckled.

"I wonder if it was you or your 'job'?" I asked. He adjusted himself so he was sitting right next to me, arm around my waist, pulling me close.

"I think it was both. They heard how I was a 'mercenary' or some shit like that, and they expected some bad ass." He shrugged. "Eh. They were still teenage girls-hardly 17, some of them."

"And you're not a bad ass?"

"Not really." He laughed. "In my own way, I guess. I've actually become sort of a geek-I've learned a lot of computer hacking."

"Hey, geeks are cool. I went to high school for about half a year to track down some guy that killed so-and-so. I, somehow, got labeled as geek."

"You? I'm surprised those high school boys weren't drooling all over you."

"Well, they were, but they were too worried about what would happen to their status if they slept with a 'geek.' They might not keep their cheerleader girlfriends." I rolled my eyes. "Oh well. I was there for a semester and hated it. I don't know how they stand four years of it."

"And how did we get on this subject?" he narrowed his eyebrows.

"To tell you the truth, I have no idea." We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment. I saw Lane bite his lip with nervousness. Deep down, Lane was shy, or, at least, afraid of rejection.

Annoyed with the awkward moment, I encased Lane's lips with an intensity I didn't know I had. I might not feel all the things I felt when I was 13, but, damn it, I wanted to kiss someone. In my lifetime, I've only kissed one man (willingly) and that score was unacceptable.

I felt his hands glide around my waist, pulling my even closer, pressing me against him. With unfaltering courage, I pulled off his shirt, running my hands over the perfectly muscled chest that he hid under baggy clothes. He released a groan, at which I smiled at. He rolled so her hovered on top of me, and nipped at my neck. My breathing hastened.

He could tell, because he advanced, callused hands sliding up the back of my shirt. I had forgotten how good it felt to be held like this.

But I wanted more.

And before I was about to get that, the phone ringed.

Lane released a discontented groan, much unlike the sexy, pleasured one he had earlier, and answered.

"Hello?" he grumbled. "Oh. Ok. We'll be there in 10." He slammed the phone down and turned to me. "Simon's awake. He'll be released tomorrow, but we can see him."

"That's great." I said, turning the lamp on. "Don't worry-we can continue this later." I straightened my hair, and made sure I didn't look like I was just rolling around in bed with Lane. I mean, right before all of this shit happened, I was lying in bed with him too, with his kissing my neck.

Within a few minutes, we were back at the hospital, waiting outside Simon's room. The door was closed, and if they were currently pulling a piece of splinted bone out from his skin, I didn't want to see that.

But, the nurse opened the door, and told us we can see him.

And I stopped at the sight of Simon.

He looked extremely pale in the sterile white. He actually looked sick, though I suppose everyone looks sick when they're in hospital clothing: when all color is drained from their face: when they look so helpless in that bed with all those wires hooked up to them. He looked unreal, and…shaken. It was the first time when he really looked off-balance. Sure, in other situations, he had been panicked, but he had this fire inside him, this never-ending emotion that never went out. But now, it looked as if he'd lost that.

With my lips pressed together in a narrow line, I walked forward and met his eyes. Inside, I imagined him angry at me, yelling, screaming, hating me. I knew this wasn't true-I mean, HE wouldn't be angry at ME for HIM jumping in front of ME to save ME. Still, I had developed a sort of…care for him. I would be hurt if he were angry with me.

I expected a disappointed glare. What I got was a smile.

"You're alive." I smiled weakly. "I…don't know how to thank you." He smirked.

"I can think of a few ways." I rolled my eyes and laughed.

"I should have known that even on what could have been your death bed that you would still be the biggest pervert I've ever met." I sighed. "Really, Simon. Thank you. I…" I felt tears gather in my eyes.

Wow.

Was I crying? When was the last time I cried? When I was being dragged away from my mother? I had trained myself to not cry. I never found the point-I thought it was a useless show of emotions that can be used in either childish or manipulative temper tantrums, but now, I know why people cried; when they couldn't express their emotions in any others way, when no words could really describe what you felt.

"Hey, don't cry." He said, leaned up to look me straight in the face. I bit down on my lip for a moment, and regained myself.

"Why did you do it anyway?" I asked, my voice unsteady.

"You've saved my life before, and I didn't make as big of a deal about it." He shrugged.

"Yea, but I wasn't taken to the hospital."

"You almost had to. And besides, I thought you didn't care about me-why care why I would repay a favor?"

"Ouch." That came from Lane, who had remained silent until now. I released a long sigh.

"You think I don't care about you?" I narrowed my eyebrows. "Would I cry over someone I don't care about?"

"Well, I wouldn't know. Would Lane know?"

"Oh, Lord!" I hissed. Now I get it. "Damn testosterone…" My hands flew above my head as I walked to the door.

"You're welcome!" Simon yelled sarcastically.

"Thanks." I whispered, inflicting as much anger as I could with my tone before stomping out, and slamming the door behind me.

After a long taxi ride back to the hotel, I still wasn't speaking. I had figured out why he was acting like such a jerk-because of Lane. Could he tell…? Did he hear…?

I gritted my teeth and tried to stop thinking about it, as it would only make me angrier, but I couldn't stop the feelings of anger and betrayal. I cried over him. I don't cry over anything.

"Aydan, please…" he sighed as we entered the hotel room. "Will you please tell me what the hell just happened?"

"Simon's a typical male-possessive and thinks the world operates with a hierarchy system." I hissed. "He got pissed because I was standing the same room with you."

"Ever think maybe he did that because he cared about you? I mean, he probably saved your life. I saw where that bullet was heading, and it was not towards your shins." He narrowed his eyes. I sighed.

"God damn it, why are you always the one's that's right?" I collapsed on the bed. "I fucked up."

"Look, you can apologize tomorrow. He'll understand." He sat next to me and let me lean on his chest. "He can't be a total dick-he knows that humans make mistakes, and you're kind of new in the relationship business…" I groaned, and closed my eyes.

"No. I'm apologizing now." I said stubbornly before walking out the door.

Wow, long one. Feels like I dragged it out too much. If I added less, it would be too short, if I added more, it would be too long…. Oh, well.

-Hannah