County Museum

Mr. Wickles glared at the masked intruder, "Must you always sneak in like that?" He snapped in irritation before settling back down in his chair.

The masked figure gave a small laugh, "What? And deprive myself of seeing a friend of mine surprised? Surely you jest, Jeremiah!"

"Oh, so I'm a friend now, am I?" Mr. Wickles muttered, looking back at his computer. "So as a friend, do you intend to share your name this time?"

The figure placed his hand over his heart and gave a gasp, "Come now, that's MUCH to forward!" before dissolving into small laughs once more. "Besides, I was the one that assisted you in laying the groundwork for your forgery business" he stated once he got his laughter under control.

Mr. Wickles gave a brief nod. "Yes, but you hardly did that out of the kindness of your own heart. I seem to recall a good percentage of the profits going to you", giving the man a look, only to see the other man shrug.

"The road to life is hardly a free venture." He stated in a sage voice. He then looked at the computer screen that Wickles was looking at. "So what is it that has you in such a twist, hmmmm?"

"*sigh* I suppose you'll poke and prod until you find out." Mr. Wickles stated, looking tired. "The museum is receiving a visitor. An esteemed art professor, Professor Hyde White. He's coming with some artifacts to hand over to the museum, and has expressed interest in seeing the rest of the displays." He ran his hand across his head in agitation. "Somehow, I don't think the paintings will pass inspection."

"Hmm, you doubt your forgeries?" The figure said questioningly.

Mr. Wickles waved his hand back and forth, "To a degree, of course. Professor White is a highly esteemed connoisseur of the arts. As it stands, there is probably a seventy percent chance of him noticing something off."

Another shrug. "So distract him during his inspections," the figure said in a bored voice. "Or do some renovations and have the place shut down."

Mr. Wickles shook his head and gave a tired smirk. "Oh, a distraction has already been planned of course" he stated. "But renovations so last minute? Too suspicious."

He turned back to his computer and started typing something down, not noticing the figure walking close. "Even with the distraction though" he continued, "The odds that he'll think that something is off is quite high I believe. Sadly, the only thing that I think I can do is just wait and se-!" All of a sudden, he felt a prick on his neck, and he quickly spun around to see the figure put his hands in the air.

"Woah there!" He said quickly, "That was a decent sized mosquito there! You alright?"

Keeping an eye on the figure, he quickly felt the area and felt a bump where the sting had been. "Yes," he said slowly, not taking his eyes off of the man. "I believe so." The man continued to stare at him, and Mr. Wickles felt that something was off. He stood up and slowly started walking to the door as the feeling grew. "I'm afraid it's getting late," he said slowly. "I must get some rest and think on this issue. Maybe an idea will come to me after a good night's rest."

The figure nodded at his words, still watching him carefully. "Yes" he said, "I'm sure everything will become clear after that."

He watched as Mr. Wickles all of a suddenly stumbled, reaching out to grab the wall.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked in a concerned voice

"Yes!" Mr. Wickles gasped, "I'm... quite sure... that I am... fine..." Before suddenly collapsing on the ground.

The figure calmly walked over to him and picked him up, putting him on the couch. Already he could hear the sound of bones starting to scrape together. He walked to the office chair and waited. "Yes, Mr. Wickles" he said. "I'm sure that everything will seem much clearer after a good nights rest..."

The unconscious form of Mr. Wickles groaned in discomfort, even while knocked out, as changes started happening within his body.


Shooting Range

*BANG!* *BANG!* *BANG!*

Fred looked up from his physics book and listened to the shots for a little bit before looking back down. He could usually tell how well one of Daphne's dates went by the intensity of her shots. Based on what he's hearing now? … Eh, this one had probably been moderately disappointing for her.

*BANG!**BANG!* … *tintintin* *clack* ... *BANG!*

Of course, it probably hasn't helped that we haven't been able to find a good story to report for a couple weeks, Fred thought to himself with a frown. But then, that's just how it went sometimes for investigative journalists. They always had numerous tips to follow up on, but nineteen times out of twenty they wouldn't lead to anything, which only increased their frustration.

After a bit of silence, Daphne walked out of the range with her gun in its case. Fred glanced at her questioningly, which caused her to sigh at him. "Yes Fred," she said in exasperation, "I'm alright and feel much better. Now c'mon." and started walking out. Fred silently put away his book and walked after her.

"So," he said to open the conversation, "What did this last guy do?"

She groaned as they made their way to their car. "Well, the date actually went pretty well." She said in annoyance. "He was a perfect gentleman and we went out to that fancy Italian place. But then I got a return call from that one secretary from that tip the other day and I had to answer it."

Fred nodded slowly, "Ok, but you told Brick that that might happen, right?"

"Of course I did," she grumbled. "And the conversation with her wasn't even that long. She wanted to talk later that evening though, and I said it should be doable." They reached the sedan and got in and she continued, "He was irritated at first, and I figured 'hey, this is what happens in our occupation. He better get used to it if he wants to date me'." Fred gives out a snort at that. "Anyway, after that he seemed much less interested in the date and was distracted all evening. See, it turns out that because he went through all the trouble of paying for the date, he thought he would get 'lucky' that evening." she finished, putting air quotes around "lucky".

Fred couldn't help but laugh at that, internally cringing at the idiot. Daphne glared at him and gave him a smack, "Hey! It's not that funny..." She muttered.

Fred slowly calmed down, "Oh, I know. I just think that he really doesn't know you that well if he thought that." he said with a sheepish grin. "How is it you manage to find all the weirdo's around here to date?"

Daphne shut her eyes and grumbled in irritation after that till they reached their office.

They had a small office - just a few rooms. Enough for a waiting room, a room for their desks and workspace, and a third that was denoted as a "thinking" room that had a collection of the tips that they were following up on.

As they walked in Daphne looked lost in thought for a second.

"You know, we didn't ever send Red a thank you note for helping us in our last case..." she said in a teasing voice. "What do you think we should get?"

Fred stiffened and let out a groan. "Uh, why do we have to give him anything?" He said in an irritated voice. "He helped us on accident!"

"Are you sure?" She asked with a small smile, "I mean, he told us that the group of guys were holing up in that warehouse, and it WAS true."

"Yes" He said slowly, trying to make her see reason, "And the reason he told us that was because he thought they were hiding on the other side of town! C'mon Daph, it's in his name - "Red Herring!" And that's what he was trying to do, send us to chase down a red herring!"

Daphne shrugged at him. "That doesn't change the fact that we couldn't have found them without his help. And besides" Her smile changed into something a little more evil, "Just imagine how he'll feel about getting a thank you note from his rival thanking him for his mistake?"

Fred paused at that, thinking for a second before coming to a conclusion. "Maybe we should drop by the store and buy some cookies for him as well," he said, looking very thoughtful now, which caused Daphne to snicker quietly.

Red Herring was the neighborhood bully when they were younger. Growing up, he always seemed to enjoy picking on everybody, especially Fred. Because of that, whenever an accident would happen, Fred would end up blaming Red for it.

They actually had Red to blame for their career choice. When they were in highschool there had been an incident were several bikes had had pieces stolen from them, and one of their mutual friends had gotten hurt before they realized their bike was missing pieces. Fred had thought it was Red Herring who had done it and wanted to make sure it didn't happen again. Daphne hadn't thought it was Red, but she also wanted to ensure that it didn't happen again, so she joined him.

It took them a week of questioning other students and following clues, but they soon tracked it down to a group of bullies from a rival school that was trying to cause problems (Not Red Herring, to Fred's dissappointment). They presented their evidence to the principal, and the students in question were punished appropriately. They were even able to submit their work as a project for one of their classes and received an A for the work they had done.

They became closer as friends through this investigation, and stuck together even through college. They found they both enjoyed the investigative work quite a bit, and after discussing their various options, they decided to become detectives (which eventually turned into investigative journalists).

It wasn't as glamourous as the movies made it, and most days it was downright tedious. The majority of their work involved following up on tips to find jobs, trying to get in contact with people that didn't want to talk, and finding and looking through records. (sooo many records, Fred shuddered at the thought.). Despite this, they were both happy with their decision.

After making it back to their office, the two of them went to their desks and started looking through the tips that they had either received or compiled, slowly putting the various tips in a "rejected" pile, or "maybe" pile.


County Museum

The figure stared in fascination and shock at the sight before him.

I remember what Bill said about the formula He thought, But I didn't expect... This!

Bill had said that humans injected with the serum would turn into "monsters". However, he had been rather lax on the details surrounding HOW monstrous, and the extent of the changes.

This was... Pretty extensive.

The being on the couch no longer looked like Mr. Wickles. It had gained a full foot and a half in height at least, and after the initial surge in height a sheen could be seen across the skin. After a bit of time, the sheen seemed to solidify and grow further, developing into a hard, metallic exoskeleton across the entire body. The man was actually grateful for this - as much as he desired to see the process, he really didn't want to see Mr. Wickles naked, as his clothes had been ripped by both his sudden growth and the development of the exoskeleton.

This of course wasn't what surprised him. The aesthetics of the exoskeleton, however, did.

Just... How? And why? Bill did say that the serum affects the brain, but why would it choose this form to replicate? And the details... The grille on the helmet, the look of the joints, even the plume... These don't serve any purpose except for how it looks...

These thoughts and more ran through his head as he stared at the form of a medieval knight laying on a couch. If he looked close enough, he could see that there weren't any screws or fasteners on the various "pieces" of the armor. He shifted and tried to get a better angle to see if he could look through the grille when suddenly a pair of yellow eyes appeared and glared at him.

He dodged the following kick by a hair.

The figure quickly put himself into a crouch a small distance from the knight, preparing to either fight or run if needed.

However, the newly knighted man didn't bother attacking right away. Instead, he slowly stood up amongst a clang of metal on metal and slowly stretched, causing loud pops to fill the room.

After a few seconds, the figure called out, "Jeremiah? Are you alright?"

The knight stopped his stretches long enough to give the figure a small growl before continuing stretching his new muscles.

Emboldened by the lack of hostility, he continued "I must say, you look quite different Jeremiah, what's your secret, eh?" he chuckled.

He nearly jumped out of his clothes when the knight actually answered back.

"Why ask?" He questioned "I am sure that thou had something to do with this."

The figure smirked, careful to stay out of range. "Perhaps" he said "Does that change anything?"

The knight was silent for a while before he turned and headed for the door. "It matters not." He stated. "Thou came to do this, and now thou hast. Thus, thou mayest leave my kingdom."

The figure couldn't help but look on in surprise for a second before responding. "You... don't want to attack me?" He said disbelievingly "And where are you going?"

The knight barely slowed as he opened the door and left. "Attacking thou would hardly do anything, wouldst it?" He stated, ignoring how the figure went very still at that. "As for what I am doing?" He paused briefly and looked at the figure. "Somebody cometh that threatens MY kingdom." He growled. "And I shall remove all such threats."

The figure jerked back into action quickly and started following the knight, "My my Jeremiah" he said, regaining his teasing tone, "You seem so much more vindictive than before." While internally, his thoughts were racing. Dang it, he's more perceptive like this. Also, what the heck is with him talking like that? I mean, it matches the getup, but just how much did the serum change in him? And is his kingdom the museum, or his business? Gah, so many questions!

A low laugh came out that seemed to chill the air around the both of them. "My name is not Jeremiah, fool" he stated, "Thou mayest call me the Black Knight."

And with that he left the museum and went off into the darkness.


On the Road

"I hate the night shift" Stanley moaned as the three of them drove to the museum.

In the car there was himself, Robinson, and Professor White. Robinson and himself had been chosen to assist the Professor in relocating some of the items from England to a museum in the States. While normally a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, Stanley had been in the car for hours now, and he was BORED.

The Professor gave a small laugh and glanced at him before returning his eyes to the road. "Just relax" he said. "We only have 30 more minutes to get to the museum. After we reload, we'll go straight to the hotel, ok?"

Stanley just moaned his assent and tried to close his eyes to get a quick nap in. It was only when Robinson suddenly spoke up that he opened them again. "Hey, what's that idiot doing?!"

Looking at the road, Stanley could see someone in what appeared to be knight's armor standing in the middle of the road, and he couldn't help but give a chuckle. "Maybe he got lost on his way to a Renaissance Fair?" He suggested.

Professor White slowly stopped the car, and the knight walked up to the car. Rolling down the window, the Professor called out "Excuse me, can we assist you in - !?"

Stanley could only watch in shock as the knight's hand suddenly shot out and grabbed the Professor, forcing him out through the window, his seatbelt snapping from the force. Both Robinson and Stanley were frozen in shock when they heard the sound of metal slamming against skin, followed by a thump.

Robinson recovered first and immediately jumped into the driver's seat and slammed on the gas. Before the car could move though, the door was ripped off, and the knight then grabbed him and he was dragged out with a scream.

Stanley didn't wait after that. He opened his door and ran for it. He had no idea where he was, but he didn't care so long as he could get away from... THAT!

What the heck! What's going on! We're just simple movers for crying out loud! He thought frantically as he tried to get his phone out of his pocket while running. He redoubled his efforts when he heard the sound of metal clanging behind him.

HOW IS HE CATCHING UP TO ME?! HE'S IN ARMOR!

He managed to get the phone out while not tripping and barely managed to press 911 before a hand slammed down on his shoulder and spun him around.

The last thing he saw was a fist heading for his face.


Jones & Blake Investigations

As Fred was looking through some recent news stories, one stood out to him.

Three people were found in critical condition just off of Jameson and Moonlight Blvd. With the exception of the mangled door, the vehicle was left undamaged, and the goods were untouched. The victims were on their way to the County Museum to deliver multiple artifacts for a new exhibit. Police and doctors have stated that it appears all of the victims were hit repeatedly by somebody wearing metal gloves. One of the victims, Professor Hyde White, is currently in a coma, while Robinson McDaniel and Stanley Schmuck are said to make full recoveries soon. Police have asked that if anybody has any information about this attack to please contact them at ***-***-****.

He looked at the story thoughtfully for a second before putting it in his "maybe" pile. The attack had happened a little ways away, but the method of attack was unusual. Also, to rip the door off the vehicle? That took quite a bit of strength. And for nothing to be stolen from the vehicle like that? The news report also implied that the victims still had their wallets... That was enough to pique his interest.

And with that he continued looking through various news stories for more ideas to put in the pile.

Authors Notes:

Now the full gang has been introduced, as well as the first villain. What does everybody think?

Also, I'd like to thank the person that wrote a review for this story :) It was a guest review, so I don't know who you are, but you do, so I'd like to thank you for giving this story a chance and for the encouragement.

And lastly, I'd like to thank three of my sisters for helping beta read this chapter, I really appreciate their help.