I'm clever with these titles. -_-

Review replies;

Dimentio713: At least I have help. :) Speaking of help, guess who'll be turning up in the chapter after this one... Thanks for reading!

Madness Abe: ...wait and see. ;) Thanks for reviewing!

Sgt Reynol: Phew, glad I managed them. :D Thanks for the review!

TweenisodeOrange: Tune in next time on GEEEEEEEEKS IN SPAAAAAAAACE! :P Thanks very much.

N. Harmonik: Yeah, sorry, I miswrote that. And yeah, it's a bit stale, but I couldn't help it. :} Thanks!

Cartoonatic55: I'm really sick of wangsty sues. :P Also, Beleiber makes me think of Believer, which makes me think of...perhaps another time. X| Thank you!

Dracula X: I should've made him say that. :) Danke Schon!

The Ghost Reviewer: On the contrary - I think 'arrow to the knee' is far worse. :| Thanks a bunch!

Wherever Girl: Aye, it's been a bit of a day. :C Thank ye!

Third Kind: Perhaps not, but I can be greviously injured. :[ Merci boku!

RandomNumbers523156: I don't know where you live, but it sounds awesome. :\ Anyway, thanks for commenting!

One Less Lonely Gurl Part III – Mile High Crud

"My name is Outcast. I am here to terminate you."

Large build. Heavy armour. Highly advanced combat armour. Face-concealing helmet. Just tore through twenty armed soldiers in fourteen seconds. At a guess, I'd say he was a super-soldier.

And he'd been hired to kill me.

As you might be able to tell, I was pretty nervous.

At that moment, there was the crack of gunfire as Loon and Systema opened fire at the man.

Danny joined in, firing a long ectoblast at the super-soldier, and both Steel and I opened up with the pistols.

Before long, the gun clips were empty, and Danny was too exhausted to fire any more.

The figure, still standing, simply crossed his arms.

"Guns and ectoplasma," he sneered, "It that it? Pathetic."

He shook his head and raised his left hand, his fist aimed at the group.

"My turn."

A gun appeared from his glove, and fired a tiny pellet at a quarter of light speed.

It as like being hit by a train.

The pellet zoomed past, but the shockwave generated by its momentum sent us flying backwards, through the front room of the studio and straight into the back wall.

For a few seconds, all I could see was stars. I could hear muffled voices around me.

Then I could see again. A Desert Eagle was aimed at my face.

"I'm sorry," snapped Outcast, "But none of you are leaving here alive."

Oh can't you see,
You belong to me,
Every move you make, every step you take,
I'll be watching you…

At the same time, a heavy VTOL was soaring over Indiana, getting lower and lower as it approached Steel's studio.

"Lord Almighty, Sarge, I can't take her any lower!" yelled the pilot, "If anything hits a tree of a building, we're all dead…"

"We're taking the risk," barked Sgt. Reynol, holding tightly to a handrail, "We need E3 alive!"

"…this ain't about E3," mumbled the pilot, "It's about your brothers…"

"And you wouldn't do the same?"

The pilot paused.

"Taking her lower."

The VTOL dropped down low, skirting the treeline as it closed the distance to the studio. Before long, they could see it in the distance, and the pilot slowed down.

"I want you in and out in thirty," he snapped, "That's how long it'll take Outcast to get up when we're done with this."

"Got it," nodded Reynol, "Get it done."

The VTOL soared to a halt just as a massive kinetic shockwave erupted underneath…

There was a sudden blast. Outcast's suit was covered in green lightening, and he froze up. Behind him, a man was running over from a large VTOL.

"Get up!" yelled Ray, "We've gotta move!"

He pulled me to my feet and practically dragged me to the VTOL. Around us, soldiers in futuristic black-and-silver uniforms were helping the others to the flying-machine, and before long we were all.

"Get us out of here!" yelled Ray.

The VTOL's doors closed as it rose off the ground.

There was a sudden clang, and a hole appeared in the left door. A soldier fell to the ground, clutching his arm. A medic grabbed him and began to bandage the wound.

Then we were underway.

"…what just happened?" I asked.

"We saved your lives," replied Reynol.

"Oh."

Reynol looked at me expectantly.

"Err…yay?"

"You're welcome," he sighed, "Look, I'll explain when we get to your place. Right now, you need to go into the back bay and keep reviewing."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Tucker's sprained his leg, that guy got shot in the arm and Loon's got a nose bleed," snapped Reynol, "The medic needs room, and you aren't…"

"I get it," I sighed, "Steel, Danny, Sandy, you're on point."

We walked into the back compartment (which was rather cramped) and Danny began to read.

As soon as we got to the Krustry Krab, all eyes were on me again and everyone dropped their patties, mouth agape. So did that grumpy-looking guy with very short, light blue hair and a big nose at the counter.

"She was the ugliest thing they'd ever seen," said Steel.

"We've just been introduced to Squidw…sorry, Ward, and he's joined by Mr. Krabs and Larry, whose names haven't been changed," I explained, "Mr. Krabs' defining character moment?"

"Hello," Eugene, this time, said to me in a way that he wants to hit on me. I decided to run as fast as I can because the mere thought of him creeped the hell out of me.

"Mr. Krabs is a pervert," I nodded.

There was a pause.

Then there was a brief struggle as I tried to steal Steel's Luger and turn it on myself.

"Anyway, C'ren swims – yeah, I don't know either – into the Chum Bucket," said Danny, "And meets Plank-I mean, Sheldon."

"Is somebody there?" A deep, manly voice said. "What would you like to buy?" He went out of his room. He was a short guy with green-gray hair and crimson eyes. He was wearing clothes that are the same color as his hair, perhaps to make himself look taller.

"Thankfully, he's not wearing leather pants," groaned Sandy.

"Sheldon recognises C'ren because he asked for her autograph yesterday," continued Steel, "They hit off in what is most certainly not foreshadowing before Spongebob swim off to Justin Beiber's concert."

"This chapter is five lines long," I snapped, "Five. Lines. Long."

"And now, the fun part," grinned Danny.

[AN: "I'm already assuming that almost none of you can actually strum a guitar with your left hand and press frets using the right hand. And also be a SELF-TAUGHT musician who can also play the drums, piano, and trumpet." I said ALMOST NONE of you. ALMOST. Know what it means. You know, I don't even know you guys personally, so as a matter of fact, I'm just doing a rough estimate. I'm sure though that it's hard to accomplish what Bieber has already accomplished for himself. And honestly, I don't think looks is a good reason for someone to get mad at another. I know that. In case you did not remember in Ch 5 and read it CAREFULLY, C'ren isn't mad at her half-brother because he's fat and disgusting but because of the things he has done to her. And Neva, thanks. There's nothing wrong with Bieber. Lotsaluv from Monica.]

"Okay, there's nothing wrong with liking Justin Beiber," I said, "I personally don't like him, that's my opinion. You know what I like? The Band of the Royal Scots."

"That's not very mainstream," muttered Steel.

"But I'm not going to belittle people for not being able to play the bagpipes like them," I finished, "And that is how I interpret these ANs. Oh, and don't worry – they get much worse."

"Anyway, we get to the concert, there's Pearl, Beiber starts singing, blah blah blah," continued Sandy…

"Hey, you," he said. He was looking at me through the crystal clear helmet he was wearing.

"…and that varmint stole my helmet!" snapped Sandy.

"Yes, you, beautiful girl with blonde, green, and pink hair.

"Sasha will crush you like little worm!" I said in my worst Russian accent.

I was elated to know that of all the people in the stadium, he would pick me to come up on stage and sing with him.

"He must have a bad judge of character," sighed Danny.

"So Beaver lets her sing for the rest of the concert, because that's realistic," said Steel, "Also, Boys Who Cry, because we really needed them in this fanfiction."

"Now, more ANs!" I grinned.

[AN: Nope, not every guy will actually love her. Especially not the guys who are like Billie Joe Armstrong, Andy Sixx, Gerard Way, or Synyster Gates.

"So basically, everyone who doesn't like her is going to be presented as bad, right?" groaned Danny.

Also, Justin Bieber is just a cameo appearance in this fanfic. Not the entire fic will actually revolve around him. It will be revealed in the later chapters. C'ren entered the Youth Olympics and in case you did not remember, she is adopted by a RICH family with many connections, thus she has many sponsors. And yes, she will have a flaw that will be revealed later on, but one obvious one is that most Goth, Emo, Punk, and Metal guys will not really like her that much.

"You know who else won't like her?" I growled, "Nerds. Geeks. Blue-collars. Artisans. Politicians. Soldiers. Policemen. Fireman. Doctors. Nurses. Comedians. Democrats. Republicans. Communists. Fascists. Tsarists. Romans. Spartans. Persians. Athenians. Dutchmen. Sailors. Redcoats. Salesmen. Pilots. Heroes. Villains. Parisians. Vikings. Saxons. Normans. Angles. Celts. EVERYONE!"

Steel, Danny and Sandy stared.

"Sorry," I muttered, "Got carried away."

"So…" nodded Sandy, taken aback, "Beiber takes C'ren back to her pad, they talk about how awesome C'ren is, and then Beiber complains that he can't have a Krabby Patty. Then he says he has to leave soon, because of his tour…"

The next day, it was all over the news that Justin Bieber's submarine engines broke, and that he will have to swim all the way back to the lands without it. I rushed to the scene where he was and told him in a worried way that it's too dangerous to go back up there.

"Maybe you're right," he replied. "Perhaps I'll just stay here for just a little longer."

I smiled as I hugged him. I thought of a grand scheme that will finally make him mine... forever. No matter what it takes.

There was a long silence.

"So our hero is a stalker," I nodded, "That's…really scary."

"Hey, guys!" called Loon, leaning into the compartment, "We're landing!"

"Yay!" I cheered, shoving the fic into Steel's chest and running out of the compartment.

Outcast walked down the road, heading in the direction of the town in which I lived. He would have looked very conspicuous, were he not cloaked at the moment.

All of a sudden, he received a transmission.

"Captain," he nodded.

"Outcast."

"What is it?" demanded Outcast.

"ENIGMA's got new orders," replied the officer, "He wants you aboard the Tirpitz within the hour. Word is that they're about to fire on E350's base, and that the firepower would wipe out the whole state."

"I'm on it," nodded Outcast.

He paused.

"You gonna bury the hatchet, Jones?"

"I should have been chosen for the Outcast program," snapped Captain Jones, bitterly, "I trained for that for three years."

"Well, you lost out," growled Outcast, "This conversation is over."

He cut off the transmission and waited as his VTOL came into view.

OH NO! PLOT!

Every Breath You Take (c) The Police