Strange Days: Fire and Rain Cpts 1 to 7 Chapter 4: Strange Days, Part Four: Fire and Rain, a tenchi muyo fanfic

Disclaimer: Tenchi Muyo/No Need For Tenchi is a product of Pioneer/AIC. As such, I'm getting no compensation for writing this fiction other than my own enjoyment and to bring pleasure to the fans of this wonderful series.

Disclaimer: The X-Flies is the product of Chris Carter and 20th Century Fox. As such, I'm getting no compensation for writing this fiction other than my own enjoyment and to bring pleasure to the fans of this excellent series.

Disclaimer: Oh My Goddess is the product of Kosuke Fujishima, What's Michael is the product of Makoto Kobayashi, Ranma 1/2 is the product of Rumiko Takahashi, Sailor V is the product of Naoke Takeuchi and Nancy Drew is the product of Carolyn Keene. As such, I'm getting no compensation for writing this fiction other than my own enjoyment and to bring pleasure to the fans of both of these excellent series (this is here because characters from these series appear in a couple of scenes).

Disclaimer: The copyright holders own the songs and poems that appear in this series. All characters 'I' have created are purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is pure coincidence.

Notes: This is Chapter Four of Book Two in my crossover series, Strange Days. I would appreciate any C&C about this work. My two E-mail addresses are:

V_Bashaw@hotmail.com

Horosha@mangablast.com

The event in Book Two occur just after Episode Four ("Mihoshi Falls To the Land of Stars") and in the first season of the X-Flies (both taking place in 1992). If anyone is interested in using any of the characters I have created here, please contact me first (especially about Anthony McClean). I don't know much about the training and organizational structure of law enforcement in Nihon and have assumed that it is similar to ours. If you have questions about the story or how I portrayed the characters please read the notes at the end of each chapter and Book One, contact me at my e-mail addresses or post a message at the AFC message board (ayekafanclub.org). I have created a glossary of Nihongo words, idioms and titles to help readers understand them. You can get it at TMFFA (tmffa.com under Crossover) or send me e-mail requesting it. My prereaders for Book Two are K.T.K. (carryover from Book One), Donald Dortmund, Fuzzy Bunny (another carryover) and Top_Quark. Also Luriko-Ysabeth helped me on usage of Nihongo in fanfiction. Both Literary Eagle and Arca gave me a big thumb up for their appearance in this chapter and some helpful advice in developing the cameo. Domo arigato everyone.

"The Tales of Pretty Sami" are based on an alternate universe Pretty Sami storyline created by a good friend of mine, Literary Eagle, for her own Tenchi Muyo OAV series, "Confess To You" (gomen for misspelling the title earlier). I use it here with her kind permission and trust (See Notes at the end of Chapter Three for further discussion).

Dedication: This series is dedicated to the people who brought Tenchi Muyo to life: Hayashi Hiroki, Kajshima Masaki, Hasegawa Naoko, and Kuroda Yosuke. We also honor Chris Carter for his great series.

Warning: Just like the Tenchi Muyo OAV and the X-Flies this work contains adult language and situations (including some ecchi scenes), so any minor should get parents' permission before reading it.

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Tenchi Muyo/X-Flies Crossover

Series Title: "Strange Days"

Book Two Title: "Fire and Rain"

A Fan-Fiction by Horosha

Chapter Four: Behind Blue Eyes

Masaki Shrine

Light footsteps could be heard upon the granite stairs, just below the entrance to the ancient shrine's courtyard, along with the footfalls was the loud purring pleasure that can only come from a cabbit having its tummy rubbed. Even in the light of the evening star, you couldn't miss the luminous curls surrounding the ebony face surrounding the two sapphire eyes. If you kept your heart from answering the beauty you saw, your ears heard the whispered Nihongo words coming from the woman's red lips, "Ryo-chan, I hope Katsuhito-san doesn't mind us paying him a late visit?"

The throaty rumbles increased volume was the little animal's response to the woman who carried it in her left hand, which caused a little giggle to come from the lady in white pants, a thick pink turtleneck sweater and light brown boots. As her last footfall brought her to the shrine's flat courtyard Mihoshi turned to view the dusk landscape. The woman's vision found another moon in the lake next to the Masaki home along with the remnants of this afternoon's storm passing across the features of the man-in-the-moon.

It took only a few seconds for Ryo-ohki to realize soothing rubs she was experiencing had stopped. Opening her catlike eyes, the cabbit found listless fingers upon her furry tummy. Shifting her amber eyes up, she found the dark woman's face imprisoned by a haunted look. With concern Ryo-ohki said, "Miya?"

The first rays of moonlight glistened off of unshed tears as Mihoshi's body sagged against the courtyard's fence, her limp hand dropped Ryo-ohki to the ground as she slowly slid down to the dusty cobblestones. Ryo-ohki jumped upon the blonde's stomach, put her forepaws upon the policewoman's left breast and cried loudly, "MIYA!"

No response came from Mihoshi, her vision locked upon the two moons and the wispy clouds. In urgency Ryo-ohki bounded off the unresponsive woman and ran to the closest place where help could be found, the high priest's office.

For Mihoshi, the twin moons she saw were those of Beta Lyrae and the clouds were smoke produced by the destruction of a casino upon this well-known bandit's hideout. Again her eyes saw the broken full length mirror beside the walkway, saw herself in a GP Inspector uniform, a Navy blue coat with crimson red pants, both trimmed in gold lace, upon her head was a navy blue beret denoting her level of Inspector, Commodore. Again her mind filled with the urgency of the remembrance, she and her strike team were after one man, Hitoshi Zuzushi. The explosion and the appearance of police uniforms had sent the surrounding criminals out of the area on thunderous feet but the sapphire-eyed woman was sure her target was still somewhere in the casino.

With speed Mihoshi made her way over the broken sidewalk, going into the main entrance where Detective First Class Yui Horie met her. With a quick surveillance of the ground floor, a growing fear in the pit of her stomach found words, "Yui-san, where is Keibu Minarai Noda Junko (Detective Apprentice Noda Junko)?"

"She was with her assigned partner, Keibu Saisho Kaikyu Ueda Yugi, but we lost contact with both of them when the assault team went in," the short silvered-haired man paused as a message came over his earphone, then he stated to his commander, "Kaicho (Commander), Takagi-sama just reported the perimeter has been secured, all noncombatants have left the target area."

"Then go to search pattern Omega," Mihoshi ordered but then added, "but tell them to be careful, we have two missing officers out there."

"Hai, Kaicho," Horie replied before relaying the order to the other GP officers through the mike. His eyes refocused from the mike, found his blond-haired leader had moved but a quick look around showed her heading toward the casino's elevators. Playing catch-up, the black-eyed man said, "It's going to be a bear to search all two-thousand apartments with the power grille out in the building and no jet packs."

"Two-thousand-and-nineteen apartments, Yui-san," Mihoshi corrected as she stopped at one of the closed elevator doors.

"Ara . . . eh . . . Hai, two-thousand-and-nineteen apartments," Horie was still having trouble with his commander's habit of ignoring important items and instead focusing on seemly trivial things. A slight shock caused him to go rigid as Mihoshi suddenly jammed her fingers into the elevator door's left edge and watched her effortlessly pull the sliding door open.

"Gu, the elevator room is here," Mihoshi smiled as she stepped into the compartment but her tone was still dipped in worry.

"Ara . . . Kaicho, I'm confused," Horie's tone left no doubt about it, "I don't see how we can use the elevators when . . . " his statement died when his buxom leader's legs bent and she jumped up with arms above her head. Her long fingers knocked the maintenance hatch open and then they caught the edge. With duty finally breaking through surprise, Horie stepped forward as he said, "Kaicho, let me help . . . "

"That's oke Yui-san," forced cheerfulness in Mihoshi's tone, "I'm going up this way."

"You're CLIMBING the shaft!" astonishment in Horie's eyes and words.

"Iie, baka wa," Mihoshi corrected, "I'm climbing the cable."

"But the building is twenty stories HIGH!" Horie's jaw seemed to touch the ground.

"Don't worry," Mihoshi grinned down at the second-in-command, "it'll be just like gym back at the GP Academy."

"Then wait for me!" Horie started to gather himself for a jump.

"Iie, Yui-san," affection in Mihoshi's voice, "I'm going to stealth mode and I need you to stay here to operate the team."

"Are you sure, Kaicho?" a genuine concern for Mihoshi's well-being very visible in his voice, "shouldn't someone go with you?"

"I'll be fine, Yui-san," Mihoshi gave Horie a V for victory sign with her right hand, "just be sure the sharpshooters have the roof covered."

"Hai, Kaicho," professionalism back in Horie's tone, "We'll make sure this dirty bird won't fly the coop."

"Ja ne," Mihoshi called down to the blue uniformed man before disappearing from his sight.

Without any eyes able to see the foreboding on her face, Mihoshi quickly made her way to the elevator's one inch thick cable, successfully made a straight up sixteen foot jump, where she wrapped her strong hands and legs around the abrasive metal rope. For an onlooker it wouldn't be the policewoman's ability to climb the long metal cord that would surprise him or her, instead it would be the spider monkey speed she showed that would bug out the observer's eyes.

Mihoshi's GPCB body was showing no fatigue as she reached the thirteenth floor, but her undivided attention to her ascent left her open to surprise when a maintenance access hatch opened inward. Frozen in mid-climb, the policewoman found her ebony face just inches from a gray female face with big brown eyes and even bigger ears coming out of curly chestnut hair. The blond bombshell watched as the creature looked up and then down the shaft before pulling out a well-used road map with her right hand. The being studied the map it held in both of its white gloved hands, until an angry frown appeared on its bucktooth mouth, followed by frustrated English words, "I knew I should've turned left at Albuquerque."

"Eh . . . " Mihoshi's eyes, matching the size of the creature's eyes, looked down the length of the other woman's back to the gray-and-white powderpuff tail poking through the long hair, a tail that twitched with aggravation.

Looking straight ahead and realizing for the first time that someone was hanging in front of her, the fuzzy humanoid's face brightened as hope filled her words, "Say Doc, do you think you could help me?" The being in a pink tank top that barely held her chesty asserts (with an image of a whip forming black words upon the front of the top, "My hobby is S&M, what's yours?"), maneuvered the map so a very silent Mihoshi could read it before she continued, "I'm trying to reach ComicCon, in San Diego."

"You mean WE don't you, Lita!" Mihoshi's eyes reached new dimensions when she saw the new speaker's jam her raven-haired head next to the other strange woman. While there was no mistaking the gray-haired hare as a female, her honey brown feathery companion had an athletic physic that only required her to wear a buttoned sour green vest to hold her twin treasures. With the shake of her tail feathers showing her agitation, the dark brown-eyed woman said, "And the only reason I'm with you is that you assured me you knew the way to a place where it was girl season."

"Arca, I told you they had a boy season there," a calm confidence in the bucktooth speaker's voice.

"Fibber!" her birdlike face now between Mihoshi's and the bunny girl's face, "you said, girl season!"

"Boy season."

"Girl season!"

"Boy season."

"GIRL season!"

"Boy season."

"GIRL SEASON!"

"You know, Arca, this is a good skit," the one identified as Lita said as she exchanged her map for a notebook and started to write down the words.

The one called Arca pulled out a palmtop computer from somewhere and quickly wrote down the words with its pen before saying, "You're right, Lita, but what to do with it from here?"

"Mmm . . . " Lita's eyes glowed with enlightenment as she wrote down some lines, "How about this?" The duck girl looked at her friend's notebook as the bunny girl read the opening line, "Look, Arca, I'm sorry that you misunderstood me. I really meant boy season."

"Well, you did say there would be boys dressed as girls and girls dressed as boys," the webfoot wonder read her lines on the notebook, "maybe I just got the two confused."

"We could still go?" encouragement in the long-eared girl's voice, "I hear they're showing a new television series, about a boy joining a galactic police force and being chased by all these girls."

"Eh . . . that kind of show really isn't my cup-of-tea, Lita," then Arca eyes brightened as she adlib, "Hey! Maybe they're got some yuri dojinshi!"

Lita giggled at her friend's suggestion before she asked, "So, what do you think?"

"I like it but how about if we add this to the end of your part?" Arca's pen flew over the palmtop's screen and when she finished, Lita gave voice to her first line, "You know neither one of us needs a boy season nor a girl season."

"What do you mean?" a liquid sweetness to Arca's voice.

"How can a stranger give," roses bloom in Lita's fuzzy cheeks as she realized what the words she was reading could lead to, "what can only be found between friends."

"In what way?" Arca's chocolate gaze softened as she moved a little closer to her friend.

"A dove will roam the sky to find its lifelong companion," Lita's words touched her own heart, "a rabbit will defeat its rivals in winning a mate's love."

"Am I your mate?" Arca closed the remaining space between them.

"I sing the body electric," truth wasn't absent from Lita's reply, "when you are near."

"Ooohhh Lita, I love it when you're talking sexy to me," the depth of passion in Arca's response showed the honesty of her words.

"You know . . . all my pranks were meant . . . to show how much . . . I was attracted to you," Lita had trouble saying her lines as she felt her tank top rubbed against Arca's vest, a sensation that made her nipples hard.

"It was only later I found your love for me in your deeds," the feathery touch of Arca's right hand upon Lita's left furry cheek incited a loving sigh from the bunny girl's lips.

"Why do you think . . . I dressed up as a guy . . . so many times," hunger filled Lita's cinnamon eyes as she surrendered herself to her love, her hands reached around to trace her companion's spin, "it wasn't for Elma."

"I was so wrapped up in the one-upmanship," the caresses of Lita's fingers make Arca's voice voluptuous, "I couldn't see the message you were sending me." A breath of air separated Arca's golden face from Lita's gray face, noses smelled the scent of ardor in their sweetheart's breath and two pairs of eyes gave consent to the other for the touching of rosy lips.

"This is a police firefight zone and you are both in danger," Mihoshi finally clicked into action, "so I must forcefully ask both of you to make your way down the stairs, where my junior officers will safely escort you out of danger."

Arca's cornrow hair swirled as her head turned to dagger-glare at Mihoshi while Lita snapped out of the spell the moment had placed on her, then a sly smile appeared on Arca's bill as her eyes took in the full dimensions of Mihoshi's body before she asked in teasing tone, "Lita, you think the copper is jealous because she's horny for some action?"

"Errr . . . could be!" Lita barely able to pull her vision from Arca's enchanting face, unable to prevent a feeling of yearning from filling in her soul, then she attempted to distract herself from what was happening within by asking Mihoshi, "So Doc, you know where San Diego is?"

"I don't think its anywhere near here although some of the words on your map looked familiar," Mihoshi's tone showed she caught the double meaning of Arca's words, then she brighten and gave a little giggle before adding, "but that would mean you're three-hundred-and-eleven light years off course."

The brown-feathered girl gave a hurt look to her companion while the gray-furred girl said, "Boy! That was a wrong turn at Albuquerque!"

Arca's accepting sigh brought Lita's eyes back to her companion's face, a face aglow with scarlet love while wetness was summoned forth when Arca's womanhood brushed against Lita's. The magic of the words she and Arca had spoken called to the bunny girl's heart, bringing a feeling she wanted to complete but not with a stranger watching. With half-hearted resolution the bunny girl ducked out of the bird girl's embrace and out of the access hatch, calling over her shoulder as she left, "I'll find some flying sauceress to give us a lift to San Diego!"

With just the gray tips of Lita's ears visible, Arca gave a shout, "Lita! You rascally rabbit, come back here!" a devilish grin betrayed her intent, then she looked at Mihoshi and her next words became hot at the prospect of chasing her long-eared beloved, "I'm hunting Leeee-ta!" The bronze female turned to pursue her gray friend but before her right hand yanked the hatch close, Mihoshi's sapphire eyes saw beautifully printed sky blue words on the back of her vest, "I'm a LEZ and I'm LOVED."

After a few moments of digesting this dish of bizarreness, Mihoshi gave a mental shrug and continued her climb.

Upon reaching the twentieth floor, Mihoshi's powerful legs locked around the cable as she reached into her blond curls and fished out her pink control cube. After conjuring up her Hello Kitty plushie, her spare banana yellow matching panty and bra, and her Yuko Mizutani music CD, the ebony lady was able to active the emergency door opening program which caused the elevator door opposite to her to open. Without hesitation Mihoshi gathered her legs underneath her body and sprang for the opening, where she easily cleared the shaft's five-feet gap, reaching in the middle of the corridor but found the newly waxed floor too slick to land on two feet, thus she found herself sliding into an open janitor's closet. After noise of falling buckets, mops, brooms and plastic containers subsided, Mihoshi got up from her upside-down position at the room's back wall and readied herself just in case someone heard her entrance but after intense minutes passed, she realized no one had heard her. Upon booted feet the policewoman made her way to the doorway only to freeze when her sharp ears heard the stairway door open.

"Ya! Maita naa! Korya! The suke and her dani ain't here yet da zo! (Ooh, man, yeaaah! The bitch and her ticks ain't here yet!)"

Mihoshi's body stiffed with wrath at the sound of Hitoshi Zuzushi's voice, the man directly responsible for the death of the children, for the death of Kiyone, "And this roughhousing has got my hotobozu (debauched little boy) all flushed with blood ze."

Mihoshi's skin crawled at the hungry edge of Zuzushi's words and her heart stopped when her pointy ears heard naked flesh smacked against metal, followed by an effeminate moan and then the sound of a melon bounced off the wall as the man contemptuously said, "Damare! Poriman! (Shut Up! Policewoman!)"

Mihoshi bolted from the small room, wheeled to her right and unhooked the clasp on her holster on her right hip but the words of arrest died in her throat at the sight before her. Mihoshi knew that Zuzushi was seven-feet-tall but nothing prepared her for the sight of his greenish frame towering over the much smaller body of Junko Noda, the man's massive body forced the policewoman's blue body to straddle a metal drinking fountain, her face jammed against the mosaic-covered wall by his meaty hand upon her neck, the few tattered remains of her battlesuit couldn't stop her commander's eyes from the sight of the black-and-blue bruises covering every inch of her body nor from how violently it shook as the man's enormous manhood humped her asshole.

Mihoshi let out a lioness roar as her right hand slapped leather but Zuzushi's was quick for a huge man, by the time Mihoshi was in her marksman's stance the man had swung around with his stiff right-hand holding Noda in front of him like she was a rag doll. Gasoline was added to Mihoshi's fire at the sight of the rookie's nose flat against a very swollen and cut face but worse yet was the terror in her pale blue orbs. Then Zuzushi's ice water voice put out Mihoshi's flame, "You might get me, suke, but this hime won't have her ochoko (little pussy) any more na," a metallic chick told Mihoshi that the man's left hand held a gun against Noda's back but not any ordinary gun, her sonic hearing and sharp mind could tell from the heaviness of the click that the criminal held his favorite weapon, the Diamond sixty-caliber pistol.

Mihoshi shifted her aim but Zuzushi moved Noda so the young policewoman's body would block her commander's line-of-sight, yet deep in Mihoshi's mind, she scanned the different possibilities to end this stalemate but then the blonde's blue eyes saw the gleam of hero worship replace the terror in the youth's blackened eyes and the words the rookie used, when she met her commander for the first time, filled Mihoshi's mind, "You are the officer I want to be yo wa!"

"You can't escape," hot anger in Mihoshi's voice, "the whole building is covered with sharpshooters."

"But are they good enough to keep me from blowing your mune (tits) off your chest na," then the casino vibrated and the sound of muffled explosions reached them as Zuzushi added, "those are some gifts I left behind for your men," a nasty grin appeared on his face, "I bet you knew I was the explosive expert on the robbery that killed those children and your suke partner ze?"

"Ee," Mihoshi's shifted her aim again.

"But I'll bet you don't know that the children weren't supposed to die," Zuzushi smirked as he matched her move again, "they were there to keep the keisatsu busy but my hotobozu's blood got noisy, just like he is now," with those words, Mihoshi knew this man would kill her and Noda with nefarious glee.

As Mihoshi locked down the one plan that might succeed, Zuzushi's grin took on a fiendish look as he said, "Why don't you put your gun on the floor or would you like my hotobozu to have some fun na?" the man pulled Noda's body toward him, causing a terrified screech to escape her torn lips as fresh blood flowed over the dried blood that caked her inner thighs.

The sight of her commander bending her legs as she kept her eyes on Zuzushi, caused Noda to feebly pull at what was left of her sport bra, used to tie her hands behind her back, and her panty hose, used to tie her ankles together, yet when Mihoshi lowered her gun and lay it on the ground, comprehension filled the young woman's mind as she saw how the ebony woman's legs were coiled underneath her. The rookie cop gave the veteran cop a slight nod of understanding as a single tear trek down her right cheek.

The sense of lustful power Zuzushi had been experiencing, since his killing of the male cop and the capture and rape of the female cop, crumbled into white fear as he saw the blue ice glare of defiance in the blonde's eyes, even as she pulled her right hand away from the gun on the floor. He fired.

The roar of the high caliber pistol was combined by the choked shout of agony from Noda's broken jaw as her body bucked into the air while the round blew a cone of blood, flesh and spine bone, then it slammed into Mihoshi's lower right abdomen. The bullet's impact lifted and spun the policewoman around but Zuzushi swore when he saw the battlesuit underneath Mihoshi's uniform and the small hole in the blond bombshell's side, "Yabe zensuke sofudama da ze! (Fuck all bitches' grandfather bullet!)" In a fraction of a second later fire again licked the barrel's nose.

The second shot ripped the remaining muscle and tendon of Noda's lower torso, cutting her body in half, before it hoisted Mihoshi several inches into the air as it hit her squarely in the chest. Zuzushi's eyes bulged when he still saw the policewoman's eyes burned with wrath's determination as she came down on firm legs, another small hole where the bullet hit, and he shouted as his right hand let go of Noda's neck and he switched the gun to it, "Baba enma (Hag devil!)! Why won't you die da ze?"

Zuzushi's action gave Mihoshi a chance to lunge for her gun but the half naked man expected what her goal was and so lined up for a headshot. In the instant the massive man fired, Mihoshi threw herself to right of her gun, using Noda's falling body to obscure the big man's vision as she brought her right arm up and pointed her palm at his forehead. Shock was what the green man felt when his third missile only kneecapped Mihoshi's right leg and pain was the final stimuli his brain received when a plasma beam made two neat holes in his skull. A gurgling sound and spit came from the man's mouth, the stench of shit filled the air before he dropped and sagged into a kneeling position, his eyes going dead. The aperture at the base of Mihoshi's left palm melted close.

The rage that dominated her spirit gave way to horrible self-loathing, triggered waves of nausea followed by dry heaves which kept her on hands and knees despite the pain from her own wounds, in the eight years as Kiyone's partner, neither one had killed a living being. 'Is this what Kiyone meant,' the ebony lady struggled to stop what her emotions were doing to her body, 'by how horrible it was to take another's life?'

"Kai . . . cho . . . " Mihoshi heard Noda's whispered words.

With that one utterance, Mihoshi's own moral problem was banished from her mind and her kind spirit came boldly forward, without hesitation she painfully crawled over to what remained of the GP apprentice. With her right hand, Mihoshi combed the crippled girl's black hair out her eyes, saying, "I'm going to get the medievac unit."

"Iie . . . don't . . . move . . . " Noda fought the pain to make her words clear, "you're . . . hurt"

Mihoshi pulled off her uniform's fuzzy ball from her hip, which automatically changed into her pink cube and with a few twists she activated the emergency transponder. Next a quick visual inspection of her own wounds showed Mihoshi that her battlesuit and the sturdiness of her GPCB body had limited her damage to a temporary loss of the mobility of her right leg, the lessening of the stimulated pain told her the nanobots were at work. With professional demeanor the blond started to say, "My right leg is out so we got to stabilize your life functions until . . . " but Mihoshi's words are stopped when Noda's left hand covered her commander's mouth.

"There is . . . no blood . . . in my veins . . . " the light in Noda's eyes seemed to appear, disappear and then reappear as her hand dropped back down, "I'm . . . already . . . dead . . . "

Deep in her own mind, in her own heart, Mihoshi knew Noda was right but it didn't stop her from saying, "I've got to get you to . . . "

"Don't . . . " Noda struggled against the pain in her body, "My ki . . . is the only thing . . . left of me . . . please . . . just . . . keep me . . . company . . . "

Bending to the need she saw in Noda's face and to the truth in Noda's plea, Mihoshi carefully knelt behind the girl's head, picked it up tenderly and moved her lap underneath it. There was a little gasp of pain from the young lady's lips but she smiled before saying, "Domo . . . arigato . . . gozaimasu," then she asked, "Did . . . you . . . stop . . . Zuzu . . . shi . . . "

"Hai, we did, Junko-san," Mihoshi agreed as she used her cube to summon a bottle of water which she used to dampen her green handkerchief and start to clean the filth from Noda's face, a face voted, Most Cute, at the GP Academy.

"Tell . . . me . . . about . . . your . . . first . . . case . . . " a sleepy tone to Noda's voice.

Mihoshi gave the face in her lap a heartbroken smile, she knew her and Kiyone's first case was required reading at the GP Academy. With sunshine shining through the clouds of her soul, she told of the case, "I and Kiyone were assigned as partners, fresh out of the Academy. This is very unusual since rookie officers are supposed to learn the ropes from veteran officers but I think Ojiisama was responsible for it because he knew how well we worked together, and our recovery of the Pirouette Collection proved it."

Six minutes later, Detective First Class Maki Terashima reached the staircase door to the twentieth floor. Acting as point man, Terashima waited for his other two teammates to join him before checking the door for booby traps, they had already lost three officers who were killed and fourteen wounded by such devices. It took less than a minute of electronic detection to make sure the door was clear before the sandy-haired officer opened it. In the blood-splattered hallway they found the barely marked dead body of Hitoshi Zuzushi. Nearby was Commodore Mihoshi Kuramitsu, her entire body covered with dried blood spots, with the head of Detective Apprentice Junko Noda in her lap, the young woman's peaceful white face covered by pink tears dripping from the rivers flowing from the commander's eyes, the ebony lady's broken voice said, "Everyone praised me . . . for solving our first case . . . but it was Kiyone . . . Kiyone . . . "

At the same moment Katsuhito knelt next to his telephone with the receiver next to his ear as he spoke English words into the sender, "I'm glad to find this an easy problem for you, Gill."

"For the man who helped fund the building of our hospital," a man's voice came over the receiver, "it's no trouble at all."

"But still, won't these altered police records get you, the Chief of Police, in a very messy scandal?" concern in the elder's words.

"Not when everyone involved in those cases want the changes," Gill countered with surety.

"Including Miss Drew?" a doubtful tone in the priest's voice.

"Especially, Nancy," reassurance in Gill's voice, "she's coming out of Harvard this year and she doesn't want either snoopy reporters or suspicious clients to find out how much help she's been to law enforcement in River Heights."

"Then I must thank you for your willingness to do this for me," relief in Katsuhito's words.

"Kats, every person who didn't have to travel the twisting roads to Duluth to get quality medical care, owes you a debt," Gill's praise rang truthfully, "maybe their lives too."

"Again I thank you for doing this for me," friendship in elder Masaki's voice.

"There is one question, Kats," Gill's voice becoming serious, "this Mihoshi Kuramitsu, she isn't afraid of water."

"I don't believe so," uncertainty in Katsuhito's response.

"Good, Good," Gill returned, "With so many lakes and rivers around here, it wouldn't make sense for a hydrophobic police officer to start their career in River Heights."

"Are you sure her being black or having a Japanese name won't cause any problems?" again doubts touched the elder's words.

"Forty years ago they would've," Gill's voice remained strong, "but not today. I've got a Eurasian rookie working for me right now."

Satisfied with the last answer, Katsuhito said, "I'll send you the necessary information to the fax number you gave me, you should get it by noon your time."

Just then a loud thump came from the shrine office's door.

"Ara?" Katsuhito looked over his shoulder at the source of the noise but saw nothing but then his red eyes caught sight of the floppy-eared cabbit phase through the sliding door.

"Miya! Miya! Miya! Miya!" Ryo-ohki cried as she ran to the old priest.

"Gill, I've got something to take care of," Katsuhito told his American friend, "so take care of yourself."

"You too, Kats," Gill's voice full of friendship, "I'll be waiting for your fax."

Katsuhito put the phone on its hook just as Ryo-ohki jumped up next to the black telephone and continued her cry, "Miya! Miya! Miya! Miya!"

Seeing the distress in the cabbit's amber eyes, Katsuhito bounded up and turned to the door. The little gray animal shot between his wiry legs only to once again thud and roll from the door. If the urgency of the moment hadn't filled the senior's mind, he would have smiled at the cabbit's forgetfulness but his ears heard a self-disgusted growl come from the furry critter, who shot out the room as soon as elder opened the door a few inches.

Only a few feet behind Ryo-ohki, Katsuhito followed her over the shrine's moonlit courtyard toward the entrance, where his vision saw something was leaning against the stone fence. When his greater gait brought him next to the cabbit as they were ten feet from the kneeling form, he noted the cloud of hair upon the head and the shaking of the body. As the distance closed to five feet the priest's steps took on extra speed as he saw the body start fall forward.

Mihoshi's body twisted in its beginning descent, flexes of liquid gems came from her closed eyes to surround her head, her lips crying a silent scream. With lightning decision Katsuhito leaped down the first steps, turned in the air and sprang left so to catch the policewoman's falling form. The priest let out a gasp of surprise, at the unexpected weight of the officer, as his arms and chest caught her. The momentum this additional equation broke the firmness of the priest's stance and sent him and his package backwards. Using the kinetic energy instead of fighting it, Katsuhito bent his legs down and jumped high into the air.

Ryo-ohki stood at the top of stairs and watched with hope as Tenchi grandfather's leap over the granite steps carried him and Mihoshi twenty feet up the air and away from the little animal. Centuries of training and living in this place allowed the lean man to lightly set down on one of the stairs' rest landings, one hundred and fifty feet below the crest.

Katsuhito made his way back up the stairs as he held the weeping Mihoshi, his mind wishing to know why such a beautiful star was tortured by joyless pain. Halfway into the climb the policewoman's sobs lessened as she unconsciously drew comfort from his gentle embrace, then they ended completely as a tiny smile touched her red lips and she sighed with gentleness, "Kiyone."

When Katsuhito reached the steps where he caught the ebony lady, Mihoshi drowsily opened her eyes and blinked several times before she realized the person holding her was Tenchi's grandfather. Scarlet flushed her cheeks as she said in a confused voice, "Ano . . . Ara . . . "

Katsuhito allowed a few seconds to pass before calmly saying, "You came close to taking a tumble down these stone steps."

Mihoshi's blue orbs reached new dimensions as the elder priest's words penetrated her confusion and she squealed, "OYA, MAA!"

When Katsuhito reached the shrine's courtyard, Ryo-Ohki danced with joy around his feet as he carefully put Mihoshi on her own feet, the blond bombshell repeatedly said while switching back and forth between English and Nihongo, "I'm . . . Gomen . . . so . . . nasai . . . sorry . . . "

"That's oke, Miho-san," amusement in Katsuhito's voice and face, "at my age, it's not often I get the chance to catch and hold a bishojo hoshi (a beautiful girl star), especially one so kakko no ii (well-shaped)."

Mihoshi giggled as Katsuhito's playful compliment banished away her embarrassment, then she bent down and Ryo-ohki hopped into her long-fingered hands while the elder priest asked, "Ima, what good fortune has brought you to the Masaki-jinja at such a late hour?"

"Dewa . . . " Mihoshi was uncertain if she should intrude upon the priest's time but then she noted the good-natured tone of his question, so she asked, "Seto-dono and Sasami-chan are busy with Ayeka-san's ritual of adulthood and Tenchi-san is studying, so Ryo-ohki and I came to see if we could have some ocha with you?"

"I would be delighted to have two fine ladies as guests at my home," Katsuhito said with a positive tone.

"Great!" Mihoshi said in English.

"Miya!" Ryo-ohki added her support.

"I even have some ninjins," Katsuhito added as he walked by the policewoman so he could lead the way.

"MIYA!" Ryo-ohki launched herself from Mihoshi's cupped hands, landed on the slightly startled priest's firm right shoulder, where she proceeded to vigorously rub his cheek with her furry head.

Katsuhito reached up with right hand and scratched the area just behind the cabbit's big ears, sending the little animal into a bountiful purr. When the three reached the sliding door to his office/home and the priest opened the door with his left hand, he said to Mihoshi, "Actually, I'm glad you came, Miho-san."

"Oi?" a little puzzlement in Mihoshi's voice.

"Hai, a friend of mine in Amerika has agreed to create a cover story for you," Katsuhito stepped aside so Mihoshi could go in first, "to further your mission here in my homeworld."

"And you need a few facts about me for his files and the resume?" Mihoshi's guessed.

"Tadshii," Katsuhito took them over to a chabudai where an electric pot of hot water and a saucer of carrot sticks awaited them. Once her amber orbs caught sight of the orange twigs, Ryo-ohki dropped onto the low table where it took all of her willpower to wait for the tanned man to fish out another cup for Mihoshi from a small blue cabinet. Once the two humans knelt down at opposite sides and the priest gave the cabbit a slight nod, Ryo-ohki started to reduce the stack of sticks. Mihoshi looked about the room as Tenchi's grandfather poured the streaming water over the green tea leaves in the strainer, then he cleared his throat which caught Mihoshi's attention, "Since you are a citizen of the United States, we need to get you used to speaking Eigo (English) like a native, so the rest of our conversation will be in that language na?"

"Yip!" Mihoshi's gave an enthusiastic answer as she accepted the cup from Katsuhito's worn hand.

"Let's start with a simple question," the priest took a slip of his tea before finishing his words, "what are your measurements?"

"Height, five-feet-six-inches, weight, three . . . eh . . . one-hundred-and-eighty-nine-pounds," Katsuhito could tell from carrying the woman that this wasn't the blonde's true weight but chalked it up to female vanity, "blood type O, hips' thirty-three, waist twenty-two, chest thirty-four-double-D."

Katsuhito wiped his mustache to hide his smile while saying, "You know you don't need to tell people anything beyond your height and weight?"

"I know but because so many men and some women ask for them," innocence in Mihoshi's eyes after she took a sip of her own tea, "I've included them."

"You might want to be more careful who you tell," Katsuhito calmly said as he offered to refill Mihoshi's cup, "Some people might get the wrong impression."

"That's what Kiyone used to tell me," a contemplated look on her ebony face as she held out her cup, "although they seem to have the right impression after they talked to her in private."

The remembrance that name conjured brought a happy look into Mihoshi's face while Katsuhito asked, "So what is your age?"

"Seventy-eight," Mihoshi replied absentmindedly.

The old priest caught himself from accepting the statement blandly and so he countered, "You don't look that old?"

Puzzlement caused by the gray-haired man's words was short for the blond bombshell realized her mistake, "Oh, I'm sorry, I gave my age in Galactic Time!"

"So you would be . . . " the man in priestly grab left the question hanging.

"Umm . . . I would be thirty-one in Earth years," then a new thought entered Mihoshi's mind, "You know the different measurement systems of this planet can be really confusing, almost everyone uses a system based on the number ten while the dominating culture on this planet uses a system based on the size of a particular man's foot or the distance between the same man's outstretched right thumb and his right eye."

"It's only been in the last one-hundred years the United States and its culture has become a factor," Katsuhito informed Mihoshi, "before many other cultures have risen and fallen as the major force on this world."

"I'm probably just use to having Jurai and Seniwa as the controlling cultures in the Galactic Union for the last twenty-thousand-years," then Mihoshi's eyes reached saucer size and put her hand to her lips before saying, "Ops, please ignore what I just said."

"Don't worry, Mihoshi," amusement was in Katsuhito's voice, "my lips are sealed."

"Miya?" a disappointed tone in Ryo-ohki's voice.

Without missing a beat, Katsuhito reached under the table and produced another plate of carrot sticks to replace the empty dish, much to the little animal's delight. As the floppy-eared creature munched away, Mihoshi confidently asked, "Is there anything else you need to know?"

"I need a reason for you coming such a great distance to continue your law enforcement career," Katsuhito quietly replied. "A person usually doesn't make such a dramatic move unless they have a very personal reason," Katsuhito focused on Mihoshi's face as he continued, "a scandal of some kind or maybe the death of a partner, lover or spouse," the weathered man saw Mihoshi's physical pain at the last part before he added, "What reasons do you think we should give?"

Katsuhito saw the clash of emotions in Mihoshi's face before something clicked in her sapphire eyes and she told him with a crackle in her voice, "Tell them . . . Tell them I'm here because the place where I once worked, where I once lived, contained too many painful memories of the loss of the owner of my heart."

"This Kiyone person," Katsuhito guessed, then added when Mihoshi looked at him with surprise, "You said her name while I was carrying you and when you mentioned her earlier, there was a brightness in your voice when you said her name."

With steel in her soul, Mihoshi looked down as she waited for Katsuhito's words of contempt and outrage, over her declaration of a lover's passion for someone of the same gender, but as minutes passed only the sound of Ryo-ohki's joyful chomps touch her pointy ears. Looking back up, the blond only found the priest drinking his tea with satisfaction. With tentativeness she asked, "You aren't bothered by the way I live my life?"

"No, I'm not," Katsuhito replied as he refilled both his and Mihoshi's cups, "Shinto teaches that our soul is made of yin and yang, male and female, darkness and light. This mix is what makes each person a unique individual, the balance between these two things is where happiness is found. It is not my place to deny that other cultures beyond this small planet haven't found the path to contentment, to oneness with God."

Mihoshi let out a sigh of relief then love filled her face as she said, "I think Kiyone would be happy if your friends found a way to let her help in giving my mission a chance to succeed."

"I'm very sure they will find a way," Katsuhito aloud a touch of warmth in his voice.

"Thanks, you're sweet," Mihoshi bounced onto her feet, leaned over the low table and brushed her full lips upon Katsuhito's right cheek. On light feet the blond bombshell turned one-eighty and pranced her way to the door while calling over her shoulder in Nihongo, "I hear Nobuyuki-san's van pulling in!"

Stunned and unable to keep a blush from his cheeks, Katsuhito watched the streaming purple hair ribbon match its owner's gaiety, but his heart stopped when she turned back to him while she slid the door open, then she innocently said, "For an honorable elder you have such a soft cheek. Oyasumi!"

It took minutes after the sounds of the closed door, the fast steps on the stone pathway and Ryo-ohki's second attempt to pass through the door to join her departed friend, before Katsuhito could say with regret, "If only I wore a younger man's clothes." It took a few more minutes to make him wonder how Mihoshi had heard the van.

**********

Masaki Residence

The sound of the van's door closing momentarily interrupted the night's symphony but Nobuyuki didn't notice its absence for both his heart and mind where electrified with success. Afterward he took an evening walk in the park surrounding the Seigan Temple, his heart was joyful, his mind was uplifted and his soul at peace because over the time that separated them, Achika had told him and Scully she wanted them together, she didn't want either of them to be alone. Once he reached the front door, the black-haired man slid the front door open but before he could announce his arrival, a woman's war cry greeted his ears, "CHIKAN!"

"Now what got Ayeka-san so upset?" Nobuyuki's mumbled, then a new thought brightened his face, 'Maybe Tenchi tried to smooch her?' On quick feet the middle-aged man went up the stairs, with only a short stop on the second floor to grab his camcorder from his room, to see if his son had done something to be proud of. Upon reaching the third floor, the man slowed to make no noise and lay down on the last steps so only his head and the camcorder was visible to anyone on that level. The first thing his mind noted was how the floor was littered with the candles he had given Sasami, some of them rolling in random directions, then his eyes caught the sight of his unconscious son spread eagle on the hard wood floorboards with a nude Ayeka kneeling next to him. A zoom later showed the shocked look of horror in the princess' eyes with clutched hands at her mouth and a crimson blush that went from the roots of her purple hair down to her pink nipples. In another moment a pair of shapely legs entered the picture, so Tenchi's father adjusted his lens to get a full view of the newcomer. His brown eyes went wide and he bit his lower lip to keep a wolf whistle from coming out as he saw the perfection of Seto's body as she leaned over her granddaughter to get a better view of the knocked out boy, her bouncy breasts such lovely visions, then the oldest princess said, "It's oke, Oujo-chan, he's still breathing."

Nobuyuki was getting an eye full but cold water was splashed on his good time when Sasami came out, still wearing only her birthday suit. With sternness of mind, knowing some things should remain proper, the tanned man ducked down, then made a loud clearing of his throat before calling out, "If some people would put some clothes on, I could check on my musuko to see if we need to get him to a doctor."

"Come, Sasami!" mortification in Ayeka's tone as one set of feet fled back into the princess' room, followed by a child's light tread. In a minute, they both returned while Ayeka voiced, "Here, obasama."

"Arigato," Nobuyuki could tell from Seto's tone that the oldest princess wasn't a bit embarrassed by the situation.

"Nobuyuki-san, you can come up now," Ayeka called out.

Smiling Nobuyuki stood up and stepped onto the third floor, with his camcorder hanging from its strap but with the lens pointed at the three princess and his son, the record button pushed down. Ayeka's purple robe was tightly bound around her body, Sasami's light blue robe was properly tied to her preteen body, while Seto's yellow robe hung loosely on her tall body, revealing a little of her earthy treasure, Ayeka saw her grandmother's casualness but kept silent her opinion about it. With a slight grin on his face, Nobuyuki asked, "So, what did my musuko do to gain such a blow?"

"Atashi warui, Nobuyuki-san," Ayeka gave an ashamed bow as the man knelt next to his son, "I . . . I overreacted when he opened the door to our room and . . . I . . . " Ayeka's ruby eyes glanced at the weapons of her rage, "threw these at him."

"I think Tenchi-niichan thought our room was on fire," Sasami supplied while giving her sister's left hand a confronting squeeze with her right hand.

"It seems no one told him about the ritual," Seto's smile matched the music of her words.

Finding Tenchi reacting to his touch of the back of his son's neck, Nobuyuki gave his son a light slap before saying, "Get up segare or do I need to offer you some water?"

"Is it safe?" a thread of suspicion in Tenchi's question.

"I don't think anyone going to drop the hammer on you," a good-natured tone in Nobuyuki's tone.

Tenchi opened his eyes as he reached behind his neck to rub the place where Ayeka's waxy missile had found its mark, then he asked, "Ima, what's this about a ritual?"

"So you weren't really hurt, Tenchi-niichan?" Sasami asked.

"Iie, Sasami-chan, I was playing dead," then puzzlement came into his next words at the disappointed look on Sasami's face, "you sound disappointed, Naze no?"

"I wanted to take care of you," Sasami pouted, "make you feel all better."

With a small smile Ayeka squeezed her sister's little fingers while saying, "But Sasami, you do that every day for all of us."

"Hai, Ayeka-san is right," Tenchi added as he came to his knees, "you don't need me hurt to make me feel better," he tousled the little one's blue curls, causing her cheeks to blush in modesty.

"Miya!" Ryo-ohki's one word came from the stairs as she leaped into sight followed closely by quick footed Mihoshi, who said as she saw the strewn about candles, "Do shimashita?"

"Just a simple misunderstanding, keisatsukan," Seto told Mihoshi.

Showing no outward evidence of catching the hidden meaning in her godmother's reply, Mihoshi said, "A domestic disturbance ne," a mock authority in her tone, "I'm going to need to file a report with headquarters," confusion reigned on Tenchi's, Nobuyuki's and Ayeka's face while Seto's grinned and Sasami just looked on with curiosity, then Mihoshi ordered, "we will go down into the living room where I'll question the participants and the witnesses," at last she added as she looked straight at Nobuyuki, "Did your camcorder record the incident?"

"Only the last few minutes," Nobuyuki's voice had a dramatic tone as he caught onto what Seto and Mihoshi were doing, Ayeka's face became beet red at what Nobuyuki admission truly meant while Sasami couldn't stop her body from shaking with a case of the giggles.

"Otousan!" Tenchi shouted at his father as he got to his feet.

"A man must have a hobby, Tenchi-san," Seto came to Nobuyuki's defense before asking, "I wonder if you have any film of Tenchi-san with his okasama."

"Hai, would you like to see them?" Nobuyuki's face glowed with delight.

"Ee, I do," Seto's nodded.

"I would like to see it," Ayeka's anger now replaced with her own inquisitiveness.

"Me too," Sasami added, not wanting to be left out.

"Gu, a wide grin on Nobuyuki's face, "I'll set up the projector in the living room.

At first Tenchi groaned inwardly at his father opening up his film collection but it was quickly replaced by a feeling, compulsion, to once more see his mother's happy face. So with a little hesitation, the youth volunteered, "Otousan, I'll set up the screen."

"Ikasu, segare!" new joy joined old joy in Nobuyuki's heart for his son wanted to do something with his father.

The princesses and Tenchi followed the older man as he headed for the stairs, while Mihoshi looked down at Ryo-ohki before saying, "I think I don't need to file a report, ne?"

"Miya," approval in the cabbit's reply.

"Ne ne, let's go watch the film," Mihoshi told the floppy eared creature, "I want to see Ten-san's okasama."

"Miya," agreement in the furry critter's tone, both quickly caught up with the rest.

**********

Matsumoto Rail Station

Light winds and floating snowflakes filled all entrances and exits to the rail station, but the cold they brought couldn't dispel the giddy joy or the barking laughter that came from the two foreigners, arms around the other's shoulders, who just entered the building. Ryoko was once again cyan-haired and amber-eyed and Mulder used his weight to keep both liquid spirits and soulful spirit from making his companion's body float. Ignoring the stares and frowns that some people were giving, Ryoko said in a teasing voice, "and I thought you were going to die when you put that first piece of sushi in your mouth."

"You noticed how quick I was to wash it down with the old man's booze?" Mulder accepted his companion's jest.

"Yeah," Ryoko's right hand reached over to flick Mulder's nose, "you were the first one to get roaring drunk."

"I'm not roaring drunk!" mock anger in Mulder's retort, "just a little tipsy."

"A little?" Ryoko's flushed face just a few greater degrees less than Mulder's.

"Okay, a lot," grinning resignation on Mulder's face, "Satisfied?"

"Yip," Ryoko replied before changing the subject, "You still got your ticket?"

"Just point me in the right direction," Mulder squared his shoulders, which made Ryoko's smile bigger, "How about you?" the American added.

"I'll ride the top of the train," Ryoko's amber eyes soften at Mulder's concerned tone, "on my way home."

"So we part for now?" Mulder suddenly felt a surge of longing in his heart.

"For now," Ryoko leaned up to kiss Mulder's right cheek, only to find Mulder had turned his head and met her lips with his.

Surprise blew through Ryoko's drunken haze, her eyes fired with confusion, before her heart filled with delight and her spirit with self-esteem, delight that a man who knew who and what she was still wanted to steal a kiss from her, self-esteem because here was one more person willing to accept her as a human being.

As their lips part, Ryoko saw guilt ruled Mulder's pale green eyes matched by his tone of voice, "I'm sorry, Ryoko. I shouldn't have . . . "

"Don't be," Ryoko interrupted Mulder's apology as she pressed her right hand's index and middle fingers together, kissed their tips and then touched them to Mulder's lips, "let this be the way we part, a kiss of friendship."

The forgiving warmth of Ryoko's words brought a shameful smile to Mulder's face, so he nodded his head before he too, performed the same act with own right hand and pressed the kissed tips to her soft lips.

"Now get going," Ryoko gave Mulder a playful shove in the general direction of Mulder's train.

On stumbling feet Mulder stepped toward his destination before he heard Ryoko call out to him. Pausing and half-turning his body, Mulder said, "What?"

"I meant to ask if you knew where the remains of Ayeka's ship were taken?" Ryoko asked.

"Ayeka's ship?" barely able to think through the alcohol fog and not catching the sly tone in Ryoko's request, Mulder continued, "I think they were taken to a warehouse near the Makuhari Messe Exhibition Grounds," it took a moment for Mulder's brain to notice how contrary this question was to Ryoko's earlier mood, "Why?"

"Ayeka wanted to know," Ryoko had to bite her tongue to keep a Cheshire Cat's grin from her face.

"Oh," a glassy tone in Mulder's return before he turned back to resume his trek to his ride to Tokyo.

"Bye-bye," Ryoko waved at him.

Mulder waved back without turning around.

After Mulder disappeared from her sight, Ryoko frowned as she thought about the plan she had come up with before concluding to herself, "I'll do it tomorrow night," a wicked grin appeared on her lips, "I've been away from my Tenchi too long," then a fond look sweetened her grin, "besides Sasami-chan sounded awfully worried about me."

After a quick glance left and right to make sure no one was looking at her, Ryoko's ample body faded away.

**********

Soja

Once again in her loneliness, Washu's wait for Tsunami's action caused her soul to travel back to yesterday, to a time only a month after Seto had left Washu, when she began the first phase of her new experiment started. The little redhead originally believed that getting the grant money from the Galactic Union would take longer but, because of Dr.Clay's forced resignation from the Galaxy Academy over his treatment of his students, she inherited his grant money. The requirements to use the grant were fairly straightforward: (1) the development of an artificial biological body with a brain that could be imprinted with already developed consciousness, (2) the body needed to withstand the extremes of heat, cold and vacuum, (3) the body had to have a combat mode and (4) the body had to able to repair massive damage to itself.

Washu's eyes reflected the shine of the new equipment in her lab that her words matched, "So they want a better police officer," her hands rubbed together in that classic mad scientist's cliché, "they won't know that my pound of flesh will be a new family."

Washu summoned her transparent computer and her purple pillow, sat on the floating pillow and then let her fingers type in the first command, still muttering to herself, "My colleagues didn't even try for the grant, they saw only the improbabilities of success and not the greatest of the achievement."

With the order finished, Washu got off her pillow, walked toward a large ergonomic examination table, with her pillow and computer followed her. The woman-child stood next to the table while she took off her clothes and placed them on the hovering cushion. Holding the feeling of purpose in her heart, she closed her emerald eyes to the pain of the past and willed her body to take on its adult form. A little caught breath was all the girl-child's reaction as she felt her bones and muscles grow, her breasts go from buds to blooms, her genitalia go from preteen bareness to dark cherry pubic hair. With a clinical gaze, the little scientist checked herself for any mistakes in the transformation before saying, "Not bad for a fifteen-thousand-year-old body," then she hopped onto and lay down in the middle of the table, with determination she pushed the start button on her computer.

Washu closed her eyes as the table's cool metal became mercurial, her body sank as the liquid metal flowed over and filled every part of her womanly body, only by her nostrils did air filled her lungs. The metal warmed to human body temperature, which made it feel like a living thing to Washu. Washu knew she could use more medical means to get an egg from her ova but the natural way was the safest way, 'Besides, this is more fun,' the bit of mirth lightened Washu's mood, then the sensation of a light kiss upon her lips came, followed by an upward caress upon her right ribs and a message of her left ass cheek. Soon Washu's body repeatedly shivered from the physical touches upon it, a sensual sigh opened her mouth, which allowed a tongue-like projectile to move between her parted lips to dance with her tongue. When a penis-shaped tube pushed between her swollen vaginal lips, moved down her slick vaginal tunnel and entered her dilated uterus, Washu's body bucked in multiple orgasm. Upon sensing that Washu had ovulated, the tube's front end opened, gently siphoned in the newly created ovum and carefully pulled out. The liquid metal pushed a panting Washu to the surface before it solidified underneath her perspiring body.

Still trying to catch her breath, the woman slowly rolled of the left side of the table but needed to lean against the metal object to compensate for her unsteady legs. After unmeasured time passed, Washu finally opened her eyes and showed a green glee through her red hair plastered to her flushed face, then with an enthusiastic pump of her right fist, her lips shouted, "Perfect! I haven't hit six in ages!" Washu typed on her computer's keyboard which produced a red towel from a subspace hole, "That was better than the Peter Gunn Ultimate." The woman briskly rubbed the sweat and the vaginal juices from her body while she added, "I should've invented it ages ago, now I don't have to take a cold shower whenever a student pinches my gluteus maximus."

Washu put on her evergreen panties and bra before punching in a command on the transparent keyboard to summon a cherry red housecoat with a crab emblem on the back. Quickly the redhead moved to a machine that contained a three-foot oval birthing chamber along with a microscopic surgical chamber. The scientist's fingers gave quick strokes on the machine's keyboard to summon an image of the ovum on a 3D display. Washu's eyes locked on the 3D image as her right hand used a control ball to maneuver a tiny hollow needle through the ova's membrane, through the cytoplasm and into the nucleus. When the tool penetrated the nucleoli, Washu's left hand activated the needle's vacuum, which removed the chromatin. A second tap of the same key stopped the vacuum but the lady scientist's right hand hovered over two keys, two desires warring in a mental conflict, the key marked X would place in the nucleoli the chromosomes of her dead female friend, Akara Naja, while the key marked Y would place an altered form of her friend's chromosomes, designed to produce a male version of her beloved friend. Yet deep in her soul the anger at those, who have taken everything from her, ended the hesitation and brought her finger down on the Y key as she yelled, "Let the walls of status CRACK! Let them TOPPLE and FALL! No privileged noble's sneer at my child's gender will bar his GENIUS! He will TAKE what is his natural RIGHT to have!"

Washu's face burned with righteous fire as her hard eyes watched the needle inject the modified chromosomes and retreat out of the ovum, then a gentle current moved the human egg into the birthing chamber, where Washu used a magnification scope to watch as ovum's membrane thickened and the nuclear membrane disappears and the chromosomes are released and move into the equatorial plane, in the next twelve minutes each chromosome split longitudinally into two daughter chromosomes, then one set of daughter chromosomes moved to one pole while the other set moved to the other pole, finally a groove encircled the equator of the compact mass within the ovum and pinched it into two daughter cells.

Washu was satisfied with the way her great experiment was working without a hitch, so she whirled around to head for her living quarters but her first two steps sent her body crashing into the floor. The two imps, Bafflement and Confusion, batted her brain around like a ping-pong ball before she realized her body had unconsciously changed to its child-woman guise and her preteen legs fowled by her adult size housecoat.

It was at this point a shiver run though her being as her spirit awoke from its remembrance, her subconscious mind once again showed her how her past decision had created her present but what mattered right now, to the redhead held within her crystal prison, was the shiver told her that Tsunami was moving through Funaho-Ki. Quickly Washu's consciousness reached out and grabbed the caboose of the goddess' train, a silent prayer in the redhead's heart that the Jurain deity wouldn't detect a hobo riding her.

********

Tomoki Gaijin House, Tokyo

Scully knocked on Mulder's hotel room door but got no response, she really didn't expect to get one since the train trip to Matsumoto would by itself take six hours. The redhead walked to her own apartment, thinking, 'if Mulder did succeed and leased the room, the Hideyuki family will do the typical Nihonjin thing and invite him and Ryoko to dinner, maybe even a few drinks afterwards,' a rueful smile appeared on her lips as she put her key in the lock and turned it, 'I wonder how much sake it took to wash the raw fish taste out of his mouth, let along remember which hotel he's staying in?'

Scully left her brief case on her reading desk as she made her way to the bathroom. In the shower the perfumed soap removed the still lingering odor of smoke from her nude body and the hot water purified her mind of the dead face that belonged to the body she autopsied today. With that image gone, new ones and their emotional baggage soon followed. Ryoko in a pink business suit was unexpected development and Scully knew the cyan-haired woman enjoyed the deception she pulled on the American agents' Nihonjin compatriots but she was a great aid to them at the crime scene and gave valuable insight on the Yakuza witnesses, still the redhead doubted the amber-eyed woman would make a return performance. The next image that came visiting her was more tactile than sight, the feeling of Nobuyuki's lips against hers and brush of his mustache against her nose. When she turned off the shower, the last impression that came to her mind was three voices saying the words of an oath and Achika's smiling face.

Once Scully dried her body and put on her tan bathrobe, she made her way to the reading desk, opened her brief case, took out her flattop computer and sat on a thinly padded chair. While the machine booted up, Scully organized her autopsy report in her head, 'Name: Hyakutaku Shigeru, Age: 23, Height: 5 feet 6 inches, Weight: 156 lbs., Eyes: Black, Hair: Black. The victim was found on a bed in a soapland hotel, The North Forty Ranch. Because most of the soft tissue of the body's trunk was cooked or consumed by what appeared to be spontaneous combustion, identification of cause of death can't be conclusively determined, especially since the head, arms, legs, hands and feet show only physical trauma caused by the spontaneous combustion, nor do the bones of the spine, hip and ribcage show any physical trauma.'

Scully added the necessary technical information and finished her report at which point she looked at the clock next to her bed, 10:20 p.m., and decided to turn in early since her experience with the X-Flies told her she wouldn't get too many chances for a goodnight's sleep. After Scully's redhead touched her pillow, her breath slowed and her mind started to empty of daylight thoughts, she once again felt the kisses she shared this day and the love behind them.

********

Amagasaki Railway Station

The stationmaster nodded as his pocket watch showed the bullet train arrived at Amagasaki Railway Station at 10:25 p.m., right on schedule, unnoticed by the forty-year veteran was the lady, who sat cross-legged just above the engineer's window, her body huddled in a thick white fur coat and a matching cap pulled down to the nap of her neck with tufts of cyan hair sticking out. "Why . . . why does . . . frosty . . . air . . . bother . . . me so . . . much?" Ryoko's chattering teeth broke up her question. In her memory were images of her flying through frozen comets, radiation soaked space and gargantuan solar flares yet since her release from the cave, her skin grew goose pimples whenever icy damp air touched her. Her face scowled with suspicion that this physical reaction was the vestige of her imprisonment in the ice-cold mountain water of her cave, a divine reminder to be a good uchu kaizoku, yet the cold couldn't stop her whole being from feeling of exultation caused by the speed of the train, the thrill of flight's freedom.

The stationmaster checked the normal mix of tired businessmen, partying youths and night workers but his eyes caught sight of two women dressed in costumes, who entered the women's only passenger car. 'Probably a mother and her musume coming from the big Halloween party being held by the Takarazuka troupe,' the salt-and-pepper-haired man thought.

Rumiko was thoroughly enjoying MacClean's performance and couldn't stop her giggles whenever a new woman would glance the redhead's way, his momentary cat-in-the-dog-show look like the one on his face right now, was priceless. The woman-clothed man took a sideward peek before he whispered to the woman in the Captain Harlock costume, "You're really enjoying yourself, Rumiko-oneesan?"

"Ya! maita nee (Oh, girl, yeah!)!" laughter in Rumiko's tone, "Especially when Miruku-san got you in that corner and gave you a full-bodied hug wa yo!"

"You couldn't see what her hands were doing to atashi no oshiri (my bottom)," for a moment MacClean's words held the shock he felt when it happened, then he grimaced and bounced up a little when the before mentioned part of his anatomy touched the seat he absentmindedly sat on, he resumed his seat as he muttered, "Atasi wa shippeta marude omou o sawatta donoi onna mo wa (My buns feel like every woman there groped them)."

"That's what you get for being such a bishojo ne," merriment increased in Rumiko's response to MacClean's words.

"I forgot how make-believe combined with high spirits can release our true selves," MacClean grumbled.

"Now isn't that one monkey laughing at the other monkey's bottom," Rumiko teased MacClean for she saw him in other disguises do the same acts.

"Obviously I'm not going to get any sympathy from you, oneesan," MacClean stuck his tongue out at his friend.

"Just remember what happens to every kawaii ojosan, who rides the morning train," her scarred face had a knowing look.

"That's why God gave women high heels," MacClean retorted but without sharpness. The music of Rumiko's giggles came again and soon their magic had MacClean joining her, to every woman in the car who saw them, they were an odd couple but a happy pair, a young redheaded woman in a nurse's white uniform and an older, shorter black-haired woman in a Captain Harlock costume, both leaning against the others' shoulder like old friends.

"I noticed everyone asked where you got the earring," delight in Rumiko's black eyes as her right hand's fingers played with the tiny gold crosses hanging from it, "some even thought you're a Kirisuto-chan (little Christ)."

"Just as long as they don't call me an arsonist," MacClean countered Rumiko's purposeful mispronunciation, which brought more grins and giggles from the two.

Once both calmed down MacClean's said with seriousness, "I'm going have to leave you at the front door, oneesan."

"Naze no, Antoine-chan?" Rumiko couldn't keep her disappointment from her words.

"I've got to pick something up from the Masaki's van," MacClean knew what it meant when Rumiko used the -chan honorific with his name.

"Duty calls?" more of a statement than a question by Rumiko.

"Every walk in the sun must be paid for by a run under the moon," unspoken but clear to Rumiko was MacClean's gentle decline.

"I'm jealous, Antoine-oneesan," Rumiko tried to hide her soulful pain under bravo.

"I know, oneesan," a little sadness mixed with MacClean's smile, "I can see your horns."

"Meanie," Rumiko's sulky tone was made false when she rested her head on MacClean's padded chest and hugged his waist with her right arm, soon her breathing was in rhythm with the heart she listened to. With care both of MacClean's hands locked fingers together so to give his friend a protective embrace, the man knowing that the woman was telling him she could accept what they had.

********

Masaki Residence

Black and white images flicked on the silver screen, images of the past told of people, who have grown older or have moved onto another plain of existence. They watched Nobuyuki's home movies with such focused attention upon the two-dimensional people that an unnoticed Katsuhito entered the room and sat on the couch next to Mihoshi. With his breath touching her right ear, the old priest says, "I need a photograph of you and Kiyone-sama."

Mihoshi didn't take her eyes off the moving images as she reached underneath her heavy sweater, pulled out two pictures with both women in their GP uniforms and placed them in his tanned hands.

Sasami knelt in front of the four-foot tall frame with the projector on top of it, with many of Nobuyuki's 8mm reels on the shelves in its metal skeleton. The child's blue-haired head was just visible above a big bag of popcorn, which her right hand would dip into from time to time to fill her ever-munching mouth.

The littlest princess was curious when she heard a popping sound come from the kitchen while both the Masaki men either rolled out or carried out the old movie equipment. To her surprise she found her grandmother next to the oven, moving a very large cast-iron frying pan over a high flame and a lid covered the top, the loud noise was coming from it. Once the popping subsided and mostly stopped, Seto lifted the lid to reveal the pan was full of tiny, fluffy clouds. While the oldest princess sprinkled sea salt and added ribbon of melted butter before she poured equal shares of the steaming white puffs in six bags, Sasami asked how she knew to fix it. Seto gave the little one a bittersweet smile, saying, "My okasama would do this whenever we watched movies together."

Now from her strategic position the littlest princess was able to watch the movies and in their reflected light she saw everyone's faces. The animated features of Tenchi's and his father's faces as the two men would add the dialogue of the silent mouths, as they remembered the events brought smiles to all the others' faces, but sometimes other looks appeared and disappeared from the other watchers' faces. Seated next to Tenchi, Ayeka would look at Achika's image then at Tenchi then at herself, like she was trying to judge if she was the equal of his mother, of course an angry fire would start to burn in her eyes over her own naughty thoughts before it was cooled by the sweet smile on the face of Tenchi's mother. Mihoshi seemed to stare the hardest at the motion pictures, as if she was memorizing every scene, and her pointy ears would twitch wherever someone said anything. Once Katsuhito joined them, he would add a comment or two but mostly he seemed to draw spiritual sustenance from the sight of his departed daughter. Katsuhito's stoicism contrasted with Seto's pale features, her ruby eyes had a haunted look as she sat on the other side of Tenchi. Sasami knew what caused her grandmother's reaction for Achika could be Mitsuki's twin.

But more observations by Sasami were cut short as she started to get queasy in the stomach, then a hot flash burned her body followed by some weird sensations all over her body before they concentrated into a lightness to her head, she was only able to mumble out, "Maybe I ate too much of this stuff," before she fell onto her popcorn bag.

********

Masaki Shrine

The first hint of success to reach Washu's mind was the fact that her astral body stood on the sandy courtyard of the Masaki shrine, tears almost spilled from her emerald eyes at the light breeze flowing over her skin, such a physical stimulation she hadn't felt in five-thousand-years. From just inside the entrance to the shrine complex, the child-woman saw Tsunami's gliding image enter the Honden Hall but before following the goddess, the petite scientist washed her hands and rinsed her mouth with the wooden ladle at the stone basin. Washu's steps made no noise as he walked to the shrine, went up the wooden steps and followed in Tsunami's wake.

The room was filled with a soft gray light and Washu's unparalleled mind knew from Ryoko's past the man who used this energy, his importance to her daughter, but she also felt something stir in the depth of her consciousness, an unexplainable insight told her this aura was familiar to her too. Yet before the child-woman could muse more over her inner disturbance, a loving sigh reached her ears and her eyes filled with mild surprise at the sight of Tsunami's body entwined around the gohei, eyes closed with a heartbroken look upon her face and a single tear upon her cheek. Washu quickly realized she intruded into a very personal moment for the blue-haired goddess, so she put her right fist to her mouth, coughed loudly before saying, "I always expected you had a thing about wood."

It was as if a bucket of ice water was dumped on Tsunami as she jumped away from the gohei and gave Washu the kind of look an older sister gives a kid sister when she is caught doing something indecent with her boyfriend. Washu couldn't stop a knowing smile from touching her lips due to the goddess' reaction so she said, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

With relief on her face, the freckled-face deity took a couple of steps toward the pink-faced girl, bowed and said, "Konnichiwa, Washu-san."

Washu heard a note of familiarity in Tsunami's greeting but put it down as caused by the little scientist's five-thousand-year relationship with the group mind of Tsunami's children. Washu returned the bow and then said in her cutesy child-like voice, "You can call me Washu-chan, I am little and sooo kawaii."

Instead of the blank expression that her statement usually brought to people's faces, Tsunami warmly smiled and Washu felt again another echo of a forgotten memory fill her mind. To cover her confusion, the petite redhead asked as she let her eyes roam the room, "So you are also familiar with the user of this gray energy?"

"Hai, he was someone who helped make my dreams come true" unfathomable sadness in Tsunami's words, "but in the end, I betrayed him to preserve what we built," then she asked, "How does you know of him?"

"He helped Ryoko-chan," Washu's gratitude very much in her words, "he returned the gift of humanness to my musume."

Tsunami nodded in agreement to Washu's words before shock froze her head and dropped her mouth open. The goddess face went from surprise to joy and in a lightening bolt move she had both hands on Washu's shoulders and her face at the little one's level. A thoroughly staggered and wide-eyed Washu stared into the goddess' pink orbs while she said, "Na . . . ni?"

"Horosha is still alive?" a pleading quality to Tsunami's question.

Washu mutely nodded before she could get her tongue to work, "Ryoko-chan knew him as Handover George."

Tsunami jumped back from Washu, started to make joyful sounds and she spun her body in the middle of the room, acting more like a high-spirited teenager than a goddess.

Uncertain about the reliability of her answer, Washu amended her words, "You shouldn't make such an absolute conclusion based on flimsy evidence," her hands held high to gesture at the gray energy, "more information must be weighed with empirical logic to make certain it is the same man."

"He was as dark as a black hole," Tsunami's face all aglow with happiness, "his skin looked melted and his gray eyes seemed to touch your true self."

Washu's eyebrows lifted at the accuracy of the goddess' description but she still said, "In the ages of this universe, there could be many who would fit such a physical description. What else can you add to make your Horosha our Handover George?"

"He was a warrior who hated war," Tsunami answered, "a man who fought for peace, a protector of other people's happiness," then her voice became downcast, "at least he was when I first met him."

"He is the man my musume's memories hold dear," Washu said before her curiosity had her added, "why did you think he was dead?"

Washu's question chased away Tsunami's bliss and her shameful look matched her tone, "When I . . . when I betrayed Horosha, I placed him outside of existence, in a place of nothingness."

"So he escaped," Washu hid her ire at Tsunami's act, anger caused by her knowing what Handover meant to Ryoko.

"So it would seem," Tsunami agreed before awe filled her words, "yet he has not claimed the bloody toll of vengeance upon me or any of my creations."

"I don't think he will," Washu enforced her calm certainty with a knowing look, "the man my musume knew treated everyone with courtesy, killed only when necessary and made Ryoko-chan happy," then misery crowded out Washu's smile as she remembered what had broken that relationship.

"Do shimashita?" the goddess' pink eyes showed curiosity brought about by Washu's words and by the anguish on the little scientist's face.

"My NIGHTMARE is what happened!" Washu's arms flat against her side as self-loathing filled her words, "why must my MISTAKE be visited upon every living thing!" her fists shook with emotion, "Why must everything I hold dear be twisted and corrupted," tears spilled from her closed eyes, "why can't my loved ones be left alone?"

A warm comfort surrounded Washu's astral body and she opened her bleary orbs to find Tsunami knelt before her, the goddess softly embraced her like an older sister would embrace her kid sister. Without seeking an explanation for Tsunami's behavior or why it felt so natural to Washu for the goddess to hold her, the child-woman returned the hug and sobbed five-thousand-years of tears into the goddess' left shoulder, a soothing voice coming from the larger woman's plain lips, "Maa . . . "

********

Masaki Residence

Sasami had a happy smile upon her face as she watched, by means of Tsunami's mirror lake in her ship, what had transpired in the Honden Hall at the Masaki Shrine, then she felt the damp cloth being taken from her physical body's forehead, so she dropped her astral form back into her body, that way no one would see the luminescence coming from her key. The child's pink eyes fluttered open to find a field of heads looking down at her and a green clover blanket covered her body, the head she recognized as Nobuyuki's said, "It looks like we're having a season of fainting oujosama."

"Otousan, jodan ja nai da ze," a disapproval tone in Tenchi's voice.

"It's oke, Tenchi-niichan," Sasami's face and words full of cheer, "I just got too excited."

"Are you sure?" Ayeka knelt by the couch where Sasami was placed after she fainted.

"Ee," Sasami nodded emphatically, then a new thought entered her mind and she asked her sister, "Oneesama, can I sleep here tonight?"

"Naze wa yo" a surprised look on Ayeka's face.

"Onegai shimasu, Ayeka-oneechan," Sasami's big eyes had a pleading look, "I want to be able to greet Ryoko-neechan, when she gets home."

Ayeka opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, only to close it again as a play of emotions animated her face, she glanced at the faces around them, each held a different look but none showed any objection to her little sister's request. Deep in the reaches of her darkest fears caused by the day of Ryoko's attack on Jurai, she wanted to make clear the dangers of the friendship her sister had developed with the uchu kaizoku, how improper this bond was for a Oujosama Jurai, yet Ayeka would have to be blind not to see how Ryoko always showed a comrade-in-arms attitude toward Sasami while the littlest princess showed an absolute love for the ample woman. With an I-give-up sigh, Ayeka said, "Ii ne, you can sleep here," then she gave Sasami a stern look, "but just for tonight and don't let that bakemono keep you awake all night with her dream stories."

"Arigato, oneesama," the sunshine of Sasami's smile made light Ayeka's fears.

"Speaking of which," Nobuyuki looked at his watch, the dial reading 11:30 p.m., "I think we all should turn in."

"Fire has kept us hopping today," Seto agreed with Tenchi's father, "and it will tomorrow."

"Oyasumi, Sasami," Ayeka said as she kissed her sister's forehead

"Oyasumi, oneesama," love as big as the universe was in Sasami's voice.

"I think I'll take a walk before going to bed," Mihoshi told them before she headed for the door.

"Mind if I go with you on part of your patrol, Miho-san," Katsuhito asked with a thread of humor.

"I don't mind," a teasing tone in Mihoshi words, "as long as you realize that it doesn't make you my partner."

"I'm already a guji," false arrogance in Katsuhito voice, "to some that makes me your superior."

"Hai!" Mihoshi clicked her heels as she became as straight as a ramrod and gave the weathered priest a sharp salute before she crumbled into a fit of girlish giggles, which spread to everyone in the room to various degrees of output.

With another round of people saying goodnights, Nobuyuki was the last one to turn to leave but then he heard Sasami say, "Psst . . ."

"Nani?" Nobuyuki asked as he turned back to face her.

"So what happened?" Sasami asked in a conspirator's whisper.

"Oi," Nobuyuki realized what Sasami meant, so he gave the little girl a big smile and a thumb up with his right hand.

"I thought so," Sasami's voice full of delight at another good deed finished.

"How did you know?" Nobuyuki was perplexed by the child's statement.

"I saw lipstick on your face when you came home," Sasami's face beamed with a knowing smile, "I think everyone else saw it ne," Sasami pressed her hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter when she saw Nobuyuki's blush and his left hand reaching for his handkerchief, then she said, "Oyasumi, otousama."

"Oyasumi, Akaruime," Nobuyuki used the nickname Katsuhito had given the little princess.

Both the police officer and the chief priest put their shoes on and with Katsuhito opening and closing the front door for Mihoshi, the two walked up the path to the stone staircase as the elder told the youth, "I've talked again with my friends in Amerika," a calm assurance to his tone, "and they said there won't be any problems creating a background for two unique keisatsukans," then he added as he looked over his shoulder at the house, "when I reach my office, I'll send the information and the pictures to them by fax."

"Domo arigato for helping me," Mihoshi's acceptance in her smile.

"I don't know about Tenchi or Nobuyuki," a clear certainty in the old priest's words, "but for me you being Seto's nazukeoya makes you a part of our kazoku."

"And family helps family," Mihoshi's English words full of knowing.

"We can choose our friends and our enemies," Katsuhito now speaking in English, "but never our relatives."

When they reached the beginning of the stairs, Mihoshi drew herself up before the gentleman and said in Nihongo, "I will spare neither flesh nor bones to show your faith in me isn't misplaced," then she bowed deeply before adding, "Oyasumi, Katsuhito-san."

"Your body would have to be without honor," the moonlight reflected off the elder's eyeglasses, "for me not to believe you will succeed," he returned the bow and then said, "Oyasumi, Miho-san."

Katsuhito watched Mihoshi continue her evening walk, thinking, 'Only a few hours ago she shook with the tears of yesterday,' he turned and put his right foot on the first step, 'next she wears the jester's hat,' his shoulder felt a cold breeze come up, 'and finally the white light of meiyo and gimu blazes from her spirit,' his ears heard his feet upon stone as he wondered aloud, "How many facets does this star have?"

********

Batta Shinpu Bar, Kurashiki

Ino Ikko thought his lucky star was right over him. Just as he walked out of the bar, looking for a hooker, lo-and-behold his dreamboat-of-pussy stood just a few feet from him. Her brown hair was done up in a big ponytail and her eyes were forest green and she wore a sailor fuku just like the one worn by that character in that popular anime series, but what made him positive she was selling her body was the fact that her uniform's green skirt was so short, he was sure it would give an excellent display of I-see-London-I-see-France when she walked. To cap it all off, she smiled at him and gave him the come over gesture with her right hand, palm down with finger moving up and down.

Instantly Ikko obeyed the silent command where she immediately pressed herself against his front while giving him a girlish plea, "Ne ne shinshi! I'm afraid to walk home alone," mock innocence in her eyes, "could you escort me home?"

"Why don't you call your ryoshin," Ikko decided to play her little game, "so they can pick you up?"

"Iie, Iie," the woman bounced on the tips of her toes, her curvy body rubbed against him, "My face would fall to pieces if my ryoshin knew I came down here with my friends."

"Where are your friends?" Ikko was really enjoying this verbal foreplay as well as the physical tease.

"They're not my friends!" a childish cry to her voice as she shook her head and the big green ribbon bow upon her chest went back-and-forth, "They brought me here and left me!"

"Oi, I don't know if I have the time to take you home, ojosan," Ikko made a pretense of looking at his watch while the girl made a pleading sound, then he made a show of relenting, "Oke, I'll escort you . . . eh . . . "

"Kino Makoto!" the teenager cheer in her voice was countered by the very adult kiss she planted on his lips, then she grabbed his left hand with her right hand and pulled him along as her voice rang out, "Let's go!"

The two had started out at a quick walk and it was at this time that Ikko decided to check to see if he was correctly interpreting the messages Makoto was sending him. The black-eyed man's left-hand let go of her right and he touched lightly her cloaked buns. When her response was a throaty titter, he decided to try it again but his hand was intercepted by her left hand, then to his delight she pushed it under her skirt and forced his index finger into her jeweled box's keyhole, in minutes Ikko was erect in arousal as she literally rode his hand. Combine this with the booze in his veins, Ikko was only half-aware when Makoto hopped off her perch and directed him into Musoka Karaoke.

"Why are we stopping here?" Ikko's flush face equaled the confusion in his tone.

"I thought we could sing a duet together before you take me home," Makoto's suggestion was made crystal clear to Ikko when her right hand gave his hardened crotch a quick squeeze.

"Won't your ryoshin worry about you coming home so late?" Ikko kept the pretense going for the bored cashier at the rental booth.

"They go to bed early," the wooden half of the booth kept the man behind the glass from seeing Makoto's right hand rubbing the tip of Ikko's erection.

Ikko paid for the room then asked Makoto as they headed for the room, "And what else am I buying for you tonight?"

"You already have everything necessary to pay me," Makoto's words made complete the young man's belief of what he was buying for the rest of the night.

Ikko opened the door and Makoto skipped through while saying, "I feel so hot I think I'll take off my clothes."

Ikko kicked off his shoes and stood behind her before saying, "Why don't you let me undress you?"

Makoto turned and pushed with both hands against Ikko's chest, sending the man stumbling across the room and onto a twelve-foot long gold leaf-patterned sofa. Ikko was startled by Makoto's change of tactics and was even more uncertain when she said, "Oi, I don't need your help, Ikko-san," the woman gave him a deadly smile, "All I have to do is this," she crouched down, undid her boot buckles and stepped out of them, "and this," she pulled the ribbon bow apart with both hands which caused the whole sailor fuku to fall to the floor, "and this," with her right hand she pulled the brown hair from her scalp, revealing bitched black hair.

Ikko was mildly disappointed by the striptease before his drunken brain recognized that Makoto knew his name even though he hadn't given it, but both thoughts were canceled by a new feeling, fear. A body freezing fear touched him as he watched Makoto's eyes start to glow green, just as her nude body went from fleshy pink to fiery red. He felt waves of heat coming from her but what kicked his instinct for survival in gear was the smoke coming from the pile of clothes at her feet and the licks of fire that appeared between her toes when she took her first step toward him. A bounding leap cleared him from the sofa and a second one got him almost to the door but something landed on his back and drove him into the carpeted floor, driving the wind from his lungs. Agony pieced his brain as two incandescent hands yanked his head back and clamped his mouth shut. Ikko high-pitched whimpers came from his throat as he desperately tried to buck the weight off but his attempts were feeble and then ended as his brain boiled in its own liquid.

Guardian Angel Nakayama Mitsutoshi was checking the alley behind the Musoka Karaoke for passed out drunks when he saw something that caused him to rub his eyes before looking again, a red glowing nude woman climbing out of a window about ten feet from him. His wonder quickly turned to icy fear when she turned toward him but then his eyes saw wretchedness in her grass-colored eyes, a look that only intensified when Mitsutoshi hugged the right wall of the alley as she ran by him. The black-haired man watched the fleeing woman until his nostrils caught a whiff of smoke, which brought a cry of alarm from the young man as he ran toward the front of the karaoke building.

********

Tomoki Gaijin House

"Why does the dam thing keep moving?" Mulder swore under his breath when his key missed his room's lock for the fourth time.

"Meow!" an animal's yowl broke the hall's silence and caused Mulder to pause in his next attempt to insert his key in the elusive keyhole.

"Shampoo, kaeru wa yo (Shampoo, come back!)!" a young girl's voice came from around the corner.

As Mulder start to look up from his crouched position over the his room's doorknob, his body leaning against the door, a blur of white passed through his field of vision and he felt something furry land on his upper back as his ears heard the tinkle of brass bells.

Mulder stood up but still leaned on the door and turned his head left. What he saw changed his befuddlement to instinctive dislike for perched upon his shoulders was a longhaired cat, the animal's red eyes seemed to show the same emotion as Mulder's pale green eyes.

"Kobanwa, otetsudai shimasho ka (Good evening, can I help you)?" Mulder broke the staring match he was having with cat to look down at a young girl in an orange-yellow polka dote dress with a look of uncertainty on his face.

Mulder pointed at the cat with his left hand before saying, "Yours?"

"Hai!" the black-haired girl nodded as before she added, "Petto."

"Yowl!" rumbled out of the cat, Mulder could almost swear the cat was taking exception at being tagged as the girl's pet.

Mulder tried not to weave as he stood straight, held stiffly out his key to her and said loudly, "Here!"

A flash of erupting anger passed though the teenager's eyes before a good-natured smile touched her lips as she said, "Gaijin," then she took the key from Mulder's hand.

"Meow," the fearful tone in the cat's voice.

Mulder took a step back and used the doorframe to steady his body so the girl in white shoes could get to the door. She hesitated a little and gave Mulder a warning glare but Mulder's guileless look reassured her enough to come to the door, put the key in the lock, turned it. As the door slowly swing in Mulder grabbed the cat by the skiff of its neck and lifted it off his own neck. Held at arm's length Mulder's fuzzy mind tried to fathom if it was some kind of cross between a Persian and a Siamese, although the American couldn't figure out where the purple markings could come from either bloodlines. The detective was amused by how the cat's twists and kicks made the animal look like it was trying to do kung fu but the rage in its cat's eyes made Mulder's dislike for cats stronger, the awareness in their gaze seemed to suggest something more than animal intelligence to him.

Mulder put the cat in the girl's waiting arms and his reward was a lightning swat from a purple paw, a jagged tear upon a finger and three beads of blood.

"Shampoo!" the girl thumped the cat's pink nose with her forefinger, "Bad neko onna!"

Without forethought the girl held the cat with one hand and used her free hand to pull Mulder toward his apartment's bathroom as he stared dizzily at his wounded finger. It took the icy cold of the water washing his wound to snap Mulder's mind awake and he watched as the girl cleaned his finger with soap and water and dressed it with a silky white handkerchief, all this time her right foot was firmly planted in the cat's back.

"Thanks," Mulder said as he tried to bow to the youth, only to grab the bathroom's doorframe with both hands so his alcohol induced vertigo wouldn't make him kiss the titled floor.

"You . . . are . . . welcome," the girl took great pains to get her English pronunciation correct.

Mulder gave an appreciative smile to the teenager before she left his apartment, the last thing he heard was the little tinkle of the bells the cat wore and the girl's stern voice, "Don't worry Shampoo, we'll find out what Ramna's baka scheme is this time ne."

"Shampoo," Mulder said as he closed the door, "that's an unusual name for a cat."

Mulder was barely able to undress and get under the covers before his alcohol clouded brain put him into the sleep-of-the-dead, so he wasn't wakened when a loud crash came from the room next to his, like something or someone impacted against the wall.

********

Masaki Residence

MacClean stopped his truck on a wide shoulder just above the Masaki Residence entrance. The man hadn't changed his clothes so he had to be extra careful his white tennis shoes didn't slip on any mud while he made his way through the forest that surrounded the field where the home was. As many times before his sense-of-direction brought him out of the woods within a few feet of the stone staircase of the Masaki Shrine. With care MacClean made sure his black hooded cloak prevented his white nurse's uniform from catching the bright moonlight from the sky or the mirror lake, then he looked both ways as he walked over to the Masaki's van, even with his senses on alert the silent man didn't detect the woman coming up the driveway nor the woman flying fifty feet above him.

It had taken Ryoko thirty minutes of stealthy flight before a happy feeling filled her heart at her first sight of the familiar lake and the familiar three-story house then her warm feeling changed to curiosity when her sharp eyes saw a dark figure walking toward the tan van and a blond-haired woman coming up behind it.

The driver's door wasn't locked so MacClean opened it, removed the tape from the recording machine underneath the driver's seat and popped in a fresh tape, it was at this time he heard a faint bubbling sound behind him, like the one caused by a foot stepping on mud. MacClean's body stiffened and his astonishment only magnified when he heard an unidentified female voice come from the same direction, "Nobi-san (Mr. Creep Specialist), would you do me a favor and assume the position."

Immediately the female's use of law enforcement slang told MacClean she was probably the uniformed woman the old woman mentioned, the same one he saw riding with the Masaki clan while he was going up to Bisei. The volume of her voice told him she was about eight feet from him so she wasn't close enough to tackle, then a chill went up his spine when she added, "Nobi-san, please do as I say, I don't want to shoot you."

Without moving his head, MacClean looked for any avenue of escape, the car door blocked any escape to the left, the length of the van prevented a run to the right, the woman would surely nail him if he tried to vault over the van's roof and all the windows inside the van were rolled up, he wouldn't have time to open a door. At this point of no options left but to turn around and take it like a man, a needle pain started in man's right ear and went right straight through his head, the sound of wind chimes filled his ears. The American almost fainted but kept his legs underneath him and when his eyes cleared, he discovered the window on the front passenger's door was open.

Mihoshi was almost dancing with joy, she had been on Earth for just over twenty-four hours and she was already making her first arrest. She was checking on the two Jurain guardians, Azaka and Kamidake, at the gate when her enhanced hearing heard a vehicle engine stop somewhere above the entry to the main road. The blond walked up the road's shoulder and found a light green truck parked with the engine still warm. With a cop's instinct the ebony woman made her way back to the Masaki's gate and quietly opened it, went in and silently closed it. Staying close to the tree line, her blue eyes scanned the surrounding area but couldn't detect anything with infrared or with ultraviolet and the thickness of the woods prevented her starlight vision from showing any movement. Waiting fifteen minutes for anything to suggest a prowler was nearby, the policewoman was about to throw in her cards and go inside when a shadow moved from the woods' darkness and headed for the van. Matching step-for-step, Mihoshi followed the dark figure in and when it opened the van's door, she drew her snub-nosed pistol from its holster, the rig she wore beneath her heavy sweater. The blond bombshell closed the distance to nine feet before she stopped, brought herself into her firing stance and called out to him to surrender. When the cloaked figure did nothing, she told him she would shoot him. This produced an unexpected result as the body let out a moan and its head came close to eating metal. With real concern Mihoshi exclaimed, "Oya, Maa! Are you alright?"

Ryoko had dropped down to thirty feet so she could have a ringside seat to what was happening below. 'Serve him right if the deka blew his ass off, allowing her to sneak up on him like that,' contemptuous look on her sharp face. The uchu kaizoku believed the fun was over and she was about to teleport into the house's living room when her ears went up at a barely audible metal click.

Mihoshi's pointy ears also heard the noise and opened her mouth to say something when the figure's cloak billowed out and off its shoulders, obscuring Mihoshi vision for a few seconds. The detective held her fire until she could get a clear shot and when it came, her blue eyes saw someone in a white dress diving through an open window on the passenger side of the front seats.

Not for the last time was MacClean glad he hadn't run into a trigger happy cop, but the feeling didn't last due to his left ass cheek suddenly felt like it had been branded as that part of his anatomy cleared the opening, with a tight tuck he spun and landed on bent legs. With a mind alert he heard the policewoman dash toward the rear of the van so he bolted to the front.

Ryoko had to bite her tongue to keep from cheering at the prowler's acrobatic maneuver and she still almost whistled at Mihoshi's deadeye shot, then Ryoko darted to the roof of the house and extended her senses so she would know where the fox and the hound were, but this action brought a puzzled thought to her mind, 'Strange, I can barely pick up the yonashi (night specialists) and Mihoshi.'

Mihoshi felt Ryoko's scan so her body activated countermeasures while her baby blues caught a glimpse of white going around the front corner of the house, without a second thought the blond made for the back of the house on an interception course.

MacClean gave a silent thank-you prayer, for the policewoman not having a partner, as he doubled back on his tracks, raced by the van and headed for the woods. The man's clever mood increased when he reached the first trees but it was popped as a red beam nailed a tree to his left, followed by an angry voice, "You're under arrest, so come back here!"

Ryoko came close to rolling off the roof when a fit of laughter hit her after Mihoshi's last comment and barely kept the noise low. After the spell passed Ryoko teleported to a tree along the path the two were going up, did a quick calculation where this dirt track led and grinned evilly, 'If nothing changes, they'll encounter the bamboo forest between my cave and the shrine.' After a few ticks of the clock, the fox sped by the uchu kaizoku's hiding place with the hound twenty feet behind.

Even with the hill's incline Mihoshi knew she was slowly closing in on her target, so decided a hip shot was too risky. In fact she was impressed with the prowler she was chasing, 'He must be in peak condition to maintain this kind of pace.'

Within MacClean's mind an array of battle plans was being developed, adjusted and rejected as he was trying to come up a solution to his problem. He didn't want to hurt the woman, be hurt by her nor did he want to end up in jail, any jail. One thing that did bring a little relief to his mind was this path's destination, the bamboo forest. While creating his spying nest, he had used his knowledge to create marked paths and delay trigger traps in that forest. A quick glance back showed to MacClean's dismay that Mihoshi had cut the distance between them by six feet, he had to use those traps now, 'What do they feed these galactic gals?' the man in the female nurse's clothes wondered, 'She's not even winded.'

Without stopping MacClean dodged between a set of four bamboo trunks, when Mihoshi hit the same area one of the four came whipping out. The policewoman's eyes caught the movement and her right forearm came up, the smack was loud but the blow did no lasting harm and wasn't meant to, the blow was designed to cause the target to miss a trip wire. Mihoshi's legs went out from under her but instead of plowing into the grass and mud, the ebony lady's hands grab a bamboo trunk, pull up her legs and use her momentum to swing around and land back on her feet.

MacClean heard the trap go off, so he began the count needed to avoid his other creations but this option changed when the sound of footfalls behind him started again. The next trap was a death fall, which was designed to injure a leg but it didn't work out that way. As soon as the blond bombshell felt her left foot sink, she hopped forward then right. The gray-eyed man looked over his shoulder in disappointment for his traps had increased the distance between them but nothing else. As he was nearing the end of this unique growth the man decided on using his last option, with a quick flick of both hands over his shoulders four half-inch silver balls landed behind him.

Ryoko was flying over the rod woods when four loud explosions went off, caused the air to fill with smoke and metallic flakes and blocked her sight of the cop and the thief. On the ground the same thing happened to Mihoshi except she slowed to a walk, turned and paused before she continued carefully forward, with her gun firmly held in both hands. Without mishap the GP officer came out of the cloud to find she was in front of the Demon Cave.

Ryoko's amber eyes saw Mihoshi move toward the cave's entrance but because of her advantage in elevation, she knew something the cop didn't, the white clad burglar was on the roof of the great stone opening. 'This is almost as fun than watching Trigun,' Ryoko had an entertained grin on her face, 'I just wish I could get closer so I could really see who the deka was chasing.' This is when Ryoko noticed the person on the rock outcropping was staring straight at her.

MacClean was flat on his stomach, using every yoga trick he knew to keep his breathing slow and his muscles from cramping, it was in this position he saw something floating over the bamboo forest, something with spiky hair. 'Oh . . . no . . . no . . . no . . . ' gut wrenching foreboding matched his soundless words as he bounced to his feet and bolted for the bushes behind him.

"He got away," a disappointed Mihoshi sighed but then her sharp hearing heard footfalls on the rock above the cave and her eyes saw Ryoko flying over her. "Yeah! Go get him, Ryoko!" Mihoshi cried out in English.

Ryoko heard Mihoshi's exclamation but she was joining the hunt because of her own nosiness, for her amber eyes saw the runner disappear like a rabbit down a hole after running eighty feet.

********

Ryoko's Cave

MacClean knew he shouldn't panic like that but knowing he was on the demon's home tuff, he didn't think she was there just to watch the chase. It was at this moment the ground disappeared from beneath his feet and only his skill had kept him from breaking bones in his thirty-five foot fall down a stone chimney. Now he stumbled around in the dark cave, not enough moonlight from the ceiling opening could reveal its inside, and it was in this condition he overlooked a large rock on the floor but it didn't overlook him. "Just not my day," MacClean muttered angrily as his vision barely make out a two-halved rock with a torn paper ward on it and broken rope around it, "Maybe I can use the rope to get out of . . . " his words were interrupted when the sound of stone grating against stone found his ears.

MacClean looked from his prone position to find a soft glow coming from his right. With senses alert the man slowly stood up, walked to the wide fissure and reached with his right hand to take hold of a six-inch thick tree root so he could balance himself as he peeked in.

********

Masaki Shrine

"You feel better, Washu-chan?" Tsunami asked as she used her sleeve to dry the child-woman's face.

"Better," then Washu realized that both of them could touch each other and wondered aloud, "Nanto?"

"I think the gray aura of the gohei has given our astral bodies the substance of flesh and blood," the blue-haired goddess looked over her shoulder at the object she mentioned.

"For the gohei to have absorbed that much of Handover's energy," a spark of Washu's old genius in her green orbs, "it would've been in his possession for a very long time."

"Or it was exposed to another object owned by Horosha," Tsunami lightly countered, "remember the gohei came from another jinja."

"A jinja your bondmate will visit in a few days," Washu had a knowing look, "do you think she would spy for us?"

"Sasami-chan would lose her heart," a mischievous smile on Tsunami's face, "over the idea of being a spy."

Washu remembered one of her earlier observations and said, "Sasami-chan has changed you."

For a minute or two, Tsunami didn't say anything and Washu waited patiently, then the words came, "When I descended from my throne, when I entered this existence, my mind was black and white. To me there was my truth, my purpose and my logic. Those were the reasons I created Jurai and my Trees, brought humans to my world and asked Horosha to help me." Tsunami stood up and walked over to the wooden pole, continuing her words, "As humans bonded with my Trees, color came into their group mind, I felt a rudimentary individual develop in each Tree," Tsunami went behind the lacquered wood, "but most of all I saw the love the human bondmates gave to their families," and appeared on the other side to face Washu, "and they made my shitei a part of their families."

"But not you," Washu's words more of a statement than a question.

"Iie, not I," a sad nod of Tsunami's blue-haired head, "I was someone to be venerated as the creator, to be worshiped as a goddess and to be served by them."

"Except for Handover," Washu's face had a knowing smile.

"Horosha treated me as an equal," Tsunami walked back to Washu, "treated me as a friend."

"He awoke human feelings within you," Washu gained sudden insight, "and when you betrayed him, you punished yourself by suppressing them."

"I made myself as cold and harsh as outer space," Tsunami's pink eyes glistened with tears, "I demanded obeisance without question, I used plans that didn't take into account the suffering they brought and I found silence was golden."

"Yet all changed when Sasami-chan became your bondmate," Washu's wide grin broke the goddess' black mood.

"Sasami-chan didn't know what I had done," old happiness filled Tsunami's soul, "the kodomo saw how lonely I was and she used her passionate fire to melt the ice around my heart."

"You do know that Seto-chan and Yosho-dono are concerned about the peculiarities of the bond between you and Sasami-chan," Washu pointed out, her tone making it clear to Tsunami that she too was suspicious.

"I cannot say anything," Tsunami answered with a don't-ever-ask-me-that-question-again tone, "only Sasami-chan can."

Washu opened her mouth to ask another question when she saw Tsunami's eyes become alert and then she felt it too, "What is going on?"

"An intruder," Tsunami's voice became ominous.

********

Ryoko's Cave

The sensation started with MacClean's right hand, a numbing feeling going up his arm, spread out into his whole body and his sight winked. Instead of the earthy glow of the crack and the damp darkness of the cave, his vision held the image of a monstrous room with a ceiling of sunlight and a floor of darkness. The room looked empty but he felt the occupants' voices swimming in his mind.

'He/She is young and old,' a voice like young leaves in a soft breeze observed.

'His/Her physical form is that of a bondmate,' a voice like ancient bark added.

'One form but two beings?' wondered a voice like dancing rain.

'More like an egg,' soft breeze voice said, 'a sunny yolk hidden by a white shell.'

'A more important question is how can he/she be here?' asked a voice like falling snow.

'What do you mean, sister?' asked the dancing rain voice.

'Did anyone bring him/her here?' asked the falling snow voice.

'No,' answered a legion of voices.

'Yet he/she is here,' concluded the falling snow voice.

'Maybe Mama brought him/her here?' inquired the dancing rain voice.

'I did not bring him/her here,' answered a voice familiar to MacClean.

'Then he/she is an invader,' concluded the ancient bark voice.

'How?' asked the dancing rain voice, 'only those of Mama's seed can be here.'

'That is not completely true,' countered a voice like the morning sun.

'True, you once had a body like his/her,' the ancient bark voice agreed.

'Could he/she be like Mama?' marveled the dancing rain voice.

'No, he/she is not,' the familiar voice hurriedly answered.

MacClean felt a change in the speakers' attitude, like a certain subject was closed to inquiry.

'Could he/she be a lost seed?' speculated the morning sun voice.

This time, an icy animosity flowed over his mind and filled MacClean with dread.

'A hybrid,' hardened tone in the falling snow voice.

'A murdered child taken to make him/her,' wrath in ancient bark voice.

'We must know the truth,' stated the soft breeze voice.

'Yes, the truth,' the morning sun voice agreed.

Very quickly MacClean felt like thousands of ants were crawling over every inch of his mind, trying to find an avenue to his memory. Instantly he tried to shake the painful probing and he cried out, 'Please, stop!'

'Who are you?' commanded the ancient bark voice.

'I . . . I . . . ' MacClean fought through the prickling sensation, 'I'm Anthony MacClean.'

'Half-truth,' declared the falling snow voice.

'Who are YOU?' the pain increased.

'MacClean!' MacClean fought through the pain.

'Who made you?' stiletto sharpness to the morning sun voice.

Immediately MacClean realized what the voices were searching for and he said, 'I can't tell you.'

'Why?' boiling rage in the ancient bark voice as the pain reached a new level.

'An oath . . . to God . . . ' MacClean could barely get the words out, 'to those . . . who died . . . for freedom.'

The response was instant, MacClean screamed as every fiber of his mind felt like it was torn apart.

********

Masaki Residence

Upon the sofa in the living room and under a peach-colored comforter, Sasami tossed and turned as a moan escaped her lips, her face lit up by her key.

Inside her mind, she ran down an empty corridor, one she knew very well. When the child in the sky blue nightie reached the great doors, she pushed against them and found they reluctantly opened. In the room she found a man suspended in the air, rainbow energy racked his body and caused him to repeatedly scream.

"Iie wa yo!" horror in Sasami's pink eyes, she took a step forward but found adult arms restraining her body. Looking behind she found it was Tsunami who held her and she cried, "Onegai shimasu Tsunami-neechan, make them stop!"

"Iie, I won't," Sasami was confused by the iciness of Tsunami's tone and the rage she felt from the Trees.

Another rip of screams came from MacClean's lungs and Sasami pulled even harder to escape Tsunami's grasp, suddenly an angry female voice shouted out, "ENOUGH!"

The first thing Sasami saw, was a ball of golden radiance expand from MacClean's chest and encompass the man's body, at the same time both Sasami and Tsunami shut their eyes and grab their heads as the Trees' pain lanced through their minds. When both child and goddess open their eyes, a golden tanned woman with long fiery hair stood before them with MacClean's unconscious body cradled in her arms like a sleeping child, Sasami couldn't get a clear view but it looked like the woman was wearing a white flowing dress. Wild wrath burned in the woman's white eyes as she thundered, "Is THIS the way you repay me, Tsunami-megami?"

"Otaiyo-sama, my shitei had a right . . . " Tsunami started to say.

"A RIGHT?" the enraged Otaiyo interrupted, "You speak of a right, after I consented for you to take from my domain those who would die of war, famine and pestilence, to join your precious children on that dirt ball world of yours?"

"They sought the truth of his creation," a stubborn tone in Tsunami's words.

"The TRUTH!" Otaiyo thundered back, "The truth is you were quite willing to let them torture him because they could get away with it while you could not!"

"He shares the same blood as my shitei," Sasami's became frightened for she had never seen Tsunami angry, "was one of them MURDERED to make him so?"

"For all your preachy words," a deadly tone in Otaiyo's voice, "the truth is you wouldn't accept him for what he is!"

"You are wrong, Otaiyo-sama," Tsunami's tone showed she was offended by the woman's accusation, "it is not up to me to accept him, I only want answers."

"Answers you knew I could give," a wave of heat washed over Sasami making her eyes water, "because you knew my Star Seed is within him."

"Tell me, IMA!" Sasami saw Tsunami start to glow.

Hardness entered Otaiyo's eyes before it was replaced with tenderness as she looked at MacClean, with a simple gesture she lifted his body up a little before saying, "Return."

MacClean's body became a swirl of fireflies and slowly disappeared, at the same time a disc of energy appeared on her left arm, which condensed into a three-foot gold shield. Otaiyo's white eyes sparkled like clear diamonds when she said, "Tsunami-megami, I will vomit blood first before I answer you."

"IIE!" tears in Sasami's voice as she bolted from Tsunami, "Suru no o yameru wa yo (Stop doing it!)!"

"Sasami!" surprise in Tsunami's voice and she reached out to grab Sasami but her hands only touched the tips of the child's ponytails as the little one ran toward Otaiyo.

Tsunami's astonishment was matched by the look of bafflement on Otaiyo's face at Sasami's approach and when the crying girl was five feet from the golden woman, she stopped, dropped to her knees, placed her hands flat to the floor and touched her forehead to the cold surface, tears pooled just under her cheeks as she choked out, "Don't fight . . . no more pain . . . forgive Tsunami-neechan . . ."

It seemed like eternity to Sasami as she sobbed before Otaiyo but it wasn't, it was only a half-a-minute before a pair of hands gently lifted her up by the shoulders to a kneeling position, and another pair tenderly embraced her from behind, the child opened her pink orbs to find Tsunami knelt behind her and Otaiyo knelt in front of her, an impressed look was on the golden lady's face as she said, "I would have to be without blood and tears not to be moved by your plea, I will forgive."

Sasami hiccuped as her tears lessened then she looked up at Tsunami, who gave the little one a slow nod before saying, "I will do as you say, Sasami-chan."

Sasami gave a happy sigh and made a pillow out of Tsunami, her small ears listened to the two women's voices as her mind slipped into sleep's domain.

"She is truly the crystal of your blood and sweat," a thread of awe in Otaiyo's words.

"With each step Sasami-chan takes, she earns a star," the pride in Tsunami's voice now gained a touch of melancholy, "soon she will not need me."

"Does the ojosan . . . ?" sympathy in Otaiyo's unfinished question.

"For her, the sakura (cherry blossoms) will carpet the ground many times before it happens," Tsunami shook her head with a bittersweet smile on her lips, "but for me it will be like a dew drop from a leaf falling upon a blade of grass."

"Tsunami-megami," an apologetic tone in Otaiyo voice, "Anthony-san was remade by the bones of one of your kodomo but he didn't know and the ones who did it don't walk under my light anymore."

"Gomen nasai, Otaiyo-sama," regret in Tsunami's words, "I let the emotions of my shitei to cloud my judgement."

"Oi, it takes two to scatter sparks," music in Otaiyo's voice, "and I'm a redhead, as hot as they come!"

A string of twin giggles was the last thing Sasami heard.

********

Ryoko's Cave

The agony was gone, a warm presence had banished it from MacClean's mind, then he heard a tender female voice say, "Return." Immediately MacClean jerked his hand from the thick tree root and stumbled back, but before he could think about what had just happened, another female voice came from behind him, one sending fright's shivers up and down his spine, "Let's add some light to this situation," a devilish purr in her tone, "so I can get a really good look at you."

Dozens of little balls of light filled the cave, MacClean's body slowly turned to face the speaker like it had a will of its own, but what his gray eyes saw left him totally confused, the cyan-haired woman stared at him with a chalky face, her amber eyes full of horror, her mouth opening yet no words came and her hands start to reach out, then she grabbed the sides of her head, her head rolled skyward and a scream cut loose from her lungs before she toppled to the ground.

********

Masaki Residence

Tenchi bolted from his bed and landed on his room's hard floor, his breathing heavy and his heart thunderously beating with terror because of a scream he had heard in his sleep, a scream he knew to belong to Ryoko. Instinctively the black-haired youth retrived Tenchiken from the top dresser drawer, then he hurriedly pulled his room's door open and ran into the hallway, there he saw Seto just leaving the room she shared with Mihoshi and he said, "Seto-san . . . "

"The cave," Seto held her mirror in her right hand, "hurry."

"Hai!" it was a minor miracle Tenchi didn't break his neck as he recklessly ran down the stairs that led to the front door. At the same time Seto concentrated and her mirror began to glow, with a fluid motion she threw it above her head and rainbow light engulfed her and her body disappeared.

Tenchi's dash to the front door awoke Sasami from her deep sleep and she sat up before saying, "Nani?"

"Sasami, do you know what's going on," Ayeka appeared at the top of stairs in the living room, "I just saw obasama disappear and Tenchi-sama room's door was left wide open and he's not in it?"

"I think Tenchi-niichan just ran out the front door," Sasami eyes full of pink sleepiness.

"Hen ne (Strange)," a thinking look appeared on Ayeka's face, then she gathered her thoughts and concentrated, soon her tiara glowed with white light before the radiance faded as did she, the one thing that brought concern to Sasami's heart was her sister's disappearing body was dressed in her brown-black-pink battlesuit.

********

Ryoko's Cave

It took only a running jump for Mihoshi to land on the top of the cave's roof but for the life of her, her multi-functional eyes couldn't spot where the prowler or Ryoko had gone. That was about to change.

Down in the cave MacClean took a cautious step toward Ryoko but he quickly pulled up when a redheaded child appeared next to the prone body, a look of abject sorrow on the little one's sharp face. The girl knelt with her knees on either side of the woman's cyan-haired head and MacClean noticed a resemblance between the two females. Again MacClean took another cautious step and again he pulled up as a tall woman appeared in front of the other two, her body taking on a battle stance with a lioness-protecting-her-young look burning in her red eyes.

MacClean took on a fearful smile and said, "Would you believe I'm a lost Avon lady," the blue-haired woman's eyes narrowed, "Iie, I didn't think you would," the man right foot took a half-step as he held up his hands in mock surrender then saying, "Ja ne!" MacClean bolted for the only exit from this cave turned into a hen house, the fissure near the tree roots. It was half a second after the redhead entered the fissure that a string of fading expletives echoed out.

Seto was set to pursue the cause of Ryoko's collapse when Ayeka appeared five feet before her, underneath the cave's chimney and said, "Obasama, I'll take care of . . ." the princess' words were cut off due to Mihoshi's Santa Claus decent.

"Oi, Ayeka-san, arigato for breaking my fall," Mihoshi looked down at her human cushion, "do you know where the dorobo (thief) went?"

"Get OFF of me, Mihoshi-san!" Ayeka glared up at the blond bombshell.

Seto pointed at the fissure, saying, "The dorobo went into the fissure."

"Thanks, Niji!" Mihoshi switched into English as her leap to her feet knocked more breath out of the flattened Ayeka, the blue-eyed cop stopped at the crack, waved at the princess with her palm down before saying, "C'mon Ayeka, he went that away!"

Mihoshi's words were gibberish to Ayeka but the gesture was understood, she was on her feet and followed the police officer into the opening, although Seto was sure her granddaughter really wanted to comment bodily harm on her godchild, especially when she heard a gleeful whop and a frightful scream echoed her way. Satisfied her two young ones could handle one thief, the tall lady turned to face the person she loved most in the universe and the sight she found wounded her heart, Washu's astral hands ghostly passed through Ryoko's face while her child's glazed eyes stared up with her raised fists repeatedly hitting at something that wasn't there. The oldest princess knew her body had prevented Ayeka from seeing this tragedy but she did notice Mihoshi spaced an intelligent glance within her bubbly performance.

Seto stepped around and knelt next to Ryoko's right side, it was then Ryoko started to repeatedly say, "Okachan . . . okachan . . . okachan . . . "

"Seto-chan, this is what my genius is," bitterness in Washu's tone, "I can't even wrap the tears from my own musume's face nor can I hug the one who I love as if she came from my own uterus."

"Washu-chan," Seto's voice full of longing, "all that matters is you are still alive."

"Alive?" an insane gleam entered Washu's green eyes, "Hai, I live as I deserve," the insanity now in her voice, "for I took your great idea and what did I create with it, a kuso-musuko who seeks the ultimate power and a musume who was turned into the ultimate weapon."

"It is not your fault, okachan," Seto's countered, "you gave love to each of them equally, you couldn't have known the jealousy that sharing produced within Kagato's kokoro."

"Oi, couldn't I," hot tears split down Washu's pink cheeks to match her raging tone, "I was so wrapped up being the greatest genius in the universe that I couldn't see the HATRED my musuko had for my musume," then her voice dropped to a heartbroken whisper, "and it led to this, my Ryoko-chan reliving her attempt to break me out of my prison, just before my musuko murdered her personality."

"Doesn't this show her original persona has returned?" Seto put hope into her question.

"Iie, Ryoko-chan will only remember this as a nightmare meant to be forgotten," Washu's body started to shake, "some bytes here, partial data stream there, she will remember chips of her past but the akachan I raised to be the perfect musume is gone."

"That doesn't mean Ryoko-chan won't love you," Seto put every ounce of her love for the redheaded child-woman into her words, "just as ai shite'ru yo."

"Love me?" the Washu's insane gleam returned in spades, "My otto's love was taken from me, my musuko's love turned him into a mad man," now her voice shouted to the heavens, "and my musume's love for me sentenced her to five-thousand-years in JIGOKU (HELL)!" With the echoed words Washu's astral form faded from Seto's sight.

Down in the chamber that once was a demon's home for seven-hundred-years, MacClean walked around the large pool while his penlight searched the room's wall for another exit but found none. As the man in women's clothes turned to resign himself to his coming fate, his light caught something in the pool's water, a leaf moving under the surface that disappeared into what looked like a man-size hole near the bottom of the pool. 'A current,' hope in the man's thoughts, 'which means a way out.' Not sure how much time he had before his pursuers slid down into this room, the man stripped off his clothes, his red wig, put his keys and the cassette tape into a zip lock bag which he put into a leather bag and tied it to the front of his neck, finally he painfully removed his false breasts while thinking, 'its going to take me five days to replace them.' As the blond-haired man dropped them on top of the pile of clothes, he heard two shouting voices coming his way. With some desperation he made a shallow dive into the pool and disappeared into the hole. In a nanosecond two intertwined females slid into the room, separated from each other and both came to a bumpy stop.

"Yapi, that was fun!" Mihoshi blue eyes sparkled with a child's enthusiasm, "Let's do it again!"

"Keibu Saisho Kaikyu Kuramitsu," an authoritative tone to Ayeka's voice, "must I remind you we are here to capture the invader of our home."

"But no one is here," Mihoshi countered as she got up and looked about.

"How can . . . Kya, never mind," frustration in the princess' voice as she stood up, then with a moment of concentration a bluish-white flame appeared just above her purple head. After a steady survey, her voice took on a perplexed tone, "You're right, Mihoshi-san."

"There are these clothes over here," Mihoshi pointed out.

The two ladies walked over to where the discarded items lay, "I wonder why these are here?" a curious Ayeka asked as she retrived the fake breasts with both hands.

"Maybe she was a woman of low esteem," a thoughtful look on Mihoshi's face.

"I can understand that," Ayeka muttered to herself.

"Nani?" Mihoshi's pointy ears go up.

"Eeee . . . ano . . . maybe it was a man pretending to be a woman," Ayeka tried to cover up her earlier gaffe.

Mihoshi's face lit up with insight, saying, "Hai, you're right, Ayeka-san," then a concern tone entered her voice, "but wherever he is, he must be freezing his ketsu off."

"Ee," Ayeka acknowledged, "but how did he get out?"

Up above Tenchi finally reached the cave entrance, with him was Katsuhito since the elder had the keys to the rusty lock. With a minimum pause, both men rushed down the passage way until they reached the room with the soft glow, there Tenchi moaned, "Ryoko."

There Tenchi and Katsuhito found Seto trying to calm a prone Ryoko, her amber eyes had a trapped animal look as she tried to twist out of the tall princess' strong grip. Without looking up Seto ordered, "Katsuhito-dono, help me carry Ryoko-san to the house," then she looked at the fissure, "Tenchi-dono, Ayeka-dono and Mihoshi-dono are in the chamber where that crack opened up to, they might need help."

"Hai, Seto-san," Tenchi responded and ducked into the thin opening, there he put Tenchiken under his belt, slowly slipped over the edge and used both hands to control his slide.

Both Ayeka and Mihoshi spun around when they heard Tenchi land behind them and stumble forward a few steps before coming to a complete halt. "Ayeka-san, Miho-san, are you alri . . . " Tenchi's question changed when he saw what Ayeka was holding, "Ayeka-san, you didn't?"

Ayeka's eyes went wide at the implication of Tenchi's question and she blurted out, "It's not what it seems!"

"I can assure you, Ten-san," Mihoshi's face full of seriousness, "that Ayeka-san isn't a gei boi-san (Mr. Gay Boy)."

Ayeka wheeled to face Mihoshi before hotly saying, "He already knows that!" Then her face produced seven shades of blushes at what she just implied and she fumbled out, "I mean . . . at the onsen . . . Tenchi-sama saw . . . I didn't mean to . . . it was Ryoko-san's fault!"

Tenchi let out a sigh of relief at Mihoshi's mixed up truth, then he walked up to the princess, stopped her fumbling voice with his right hand on her right arm, along with reassuring words, "It's oke, Ayeka-san, I'm sure Mihoshi-san knows that you wouldn't do anything improper."

"Tenchi-san is right," Mihoshi voice was full of good cheer, "We both know how much you want to find Yosho-sama, your inazuke."

"Hai, I do." Ayeka warmly smiled at Tenchi's chivalry and Mihoshi's openness, then with renewed balance to her spirit, the slim princess said, "Since it seems the dorobo has made his escape, let's gather up his clothes," Ayeka made an effort to keep a civil tone to her voice, "and find out what happened to Ryoko-san."

Ayeka's companions gave her a nod and each helped the other to climb up the slippery passageway.

********

Masaki Lake

The mother of all carps was sleeping at her usual spot, just above an opening on the bottom of the west side of the lake, where warm water flowed in. At least the fish was until something rammed her in the belly and knocked her out of the way. Confused and frightened the silvery animal swam in an erratic pattern for it expected another attack but when none came, it settled back in and went back to sleep.

Sixty feet off the Masaki's dock, MacClean's blond head and shoulders broke the moonlit lake surface with a splash and the man rolled onto his back so he could float as his lungs pumped cold air into his body. The American slowed his breathing to prevent hyperventilation and so he could hear the sounds around him. Doing more floating than swimming the nude man made his way to the shore closest to the blind he had built while the family was at the onsen. He was overjoyed the leather bag was still around his neck although he knew his knees, elbows and back had patches of skin missing, thanks to the sharp rocks he found in some of the narrow parts of the natural tunnel that ran from the underground chamber to the lake. He could also feel the phosphorescent slime that covered most of his remaining skin and gave a silent prayer of thanks for the slick stuff that covered the tunnel's walls, which also helped him more than once to squeeze through some narrow spots, combine this with a few air pockets to make it possible for him to reach the lake alive. When the slim man finally reached the lake's edge, he said, "Why is it that I end up looking like a drowned sewer rat when I tangle with any of these girls," he took a quick look around as he got out of the water, "the next thing you know, the little girl will nail me with a frying pan," then he made a dash for his hideout and dry clothes.

********

Masaki Residence

After taking their shoes off at the genkan, Tenchi, Ayeka and Mihoshi walked into the living room where they found Ryoko's laying on the couch, her body caught in delirium, her eyes seeing not them but something else, her hands clawing at something they couldn't see and her voice had a child-like cry, "Okachan . . . okachan . . . "

"Maa . . . " Seto repeatedly said from her kneeling position by the couch, her hands tried to comfort the cyan-haired woman and her face full of gentleness. Sasami stood next to her grandmother, a look of helplessness on her small face, while Katsuhito and Nobuyuki stood on the other side of the couch, Katsuhito with a studious look on his face while his adopted son's face was full of sleepy concern. Ayeka saw the anguish on Tenchi's face and she heard Mihoshi's high-pitched cry of compassion and even she felt her heart tugged by the pitiful creature her ruby orbs showed her, but she didn't want to feel sympathy for the uchu kaizoku, she wanted to hate the demon woman, find delight in her enemy's pain but she couldn't. At this point Tenchi asked, "Can't we do anything to help Ryoko?"

"Iie," a stoic reply came from Katsuhito, "Ryoko-dono's mind is trapped somewhere in her past."

"Her cries seemed to suggest it has something to do with her okasama," Mihoshi pointed out.

"She fights like a child would," commented Nobuyuki.

"Hai," Ayeka affirmed, "she doesn't use any of her powers or her skills."

"She is a child once more," a haunted quality to Seto's voice, "reliving a child's horror."

"She lost her okasan," infinite sorrow in Tenchi's voice, all there except Mihoshi knew why the young man could feel empathy for such a loss.

"Ryoko-neechan, come back to us," a child's plead in Sasami's voice as she placed her right hand on Ryoko's forehead.

Immediately Ryoko's amber eyes locked on Sasami's pink ones, her body calmed, her hands slowly fell to her side and a little one's delight was in her voice, "Okachan." Startled by the effect Sasami lifted her hand and again the ample woman twisted under Seto's hands, terrified eyes stared at Sasami, her hands feebly reached toward the child and she cried out, "Okachan!" Quickly Sasami returned her hand to her friend's forehead and the results were the same.

"Naze wa yo?" Mihoshi wondered.

"It seems Ryoko-dono's mother was the same size as Sasami," Katsuhito surmised while he looked straight at his grandmother.

"So when Ryoko-san says okachan," Ayeka added as she came to stand behind Sasami, "It's an adana as well as an honorific of affection."

"It's not Sasami that Ryoko-dono sees nor Sasami's touch she feels," Seto's voice full of certainty, "It's her okasan she sees, it's her okasan's hand she feels."

"So when she confronted the dorobo," Mihoshi held up the white uniform in one hand and the red wig in the other, "It was her okasama she saw."

"An onna with red spiky hair," Seto barely kept her own feeling of loss out of her voice.

"But Sasami-chan can't stand there all night," Tenchi pointed out.

Sasami knew the solution but she needed permission first, so she looked over her right shoulder at Ayeka and asked, "Oneesama?"

Ayeka also knew the solution, knew it would draw her sister and the uchu kaizoku closer to each other but under Jurain tradition she was an adult now, which meant she had an adult responsibility not to allow the chasm between her and the demon-woman to prevent her from doing the right thing. A glance by Ayeka showed her grandmother's silent nod of agreement, so the purple-haired princess placed her hands on the blue-haired princess' small shoulders, gave her sister a small smile and a reassuring squeeze.

"Oneechan," Sasami gave Ayeka a proud smile to match the feeling in her one word statement.

Seto lifted the comforter so Sasami could lay down next to Ryoko, instantly the larger female curled around the smaller one, closed her eyes and let out a happy sigh, "O . . . ka . . . chan." Within a few ticks of a clock Ryoko was sound asleep.

"I think it will be safe for Sasami-chan to stay with her tonight," Katsuhito stated.

"So do I," Ayeka agreed, then she bent down, kissed her sister on the forehead before saying, "Oyasumi, Sasami."

"Oyasumi, Ayeka-oneechan," Sasami returned.

Seto tucked in the edges of the comforter before she bent down and kissed her grandchild's exposed cheek, "Oyasumi, Sasami-chan."

Everyone else gave a goodnight and Sasami listened as they walked up the stairs before she spoke to the person who is always with her, 'Tsunami-megami, can we help Ryoko-neechan?'

Her key glowed and a voice answered, 'What you have already done, is greater than anything I could do,' gentle softness like a butterfly's wing caressed Sasami's spirit, 'sleep will heal the rest.'

'Will Ryoko-neechan remember her okasama?' Sasami suspected the answer but still asked it.

'I'm afraid not yet, Sasami-chan,' a touch of sadness in Tsunami's reply.

'Don't worry, Tsunami-neechan,' brightness in Sasami's eyes matched the glow of her key, 'we'll find a way to get Ryoko-neechan's haha to her, we'll find a way to get your imoto to you.'

'Go to sleep, Sasami-chan,' warmth embraced her soul before it faded away. With the buzz of the nighttime insects as a natural lullaby, the littlest princess was soon deep in a slumber.

********

Somewhere near Washington, D.C.

The refugee from the summer of love sat before his computer, his nervousness obvious thanks to the third cup of coffee he was on, it was even more evident when he asked, "Man, what's holding him up this time?"

"Maybe he finally got fed up with the passwords we kept giving him," suggested the smaller man with the silver-wired eyeglasses.

"If only it was something that simple," a bookish looking man added his two cents as he noticed the clock read 2:30 a.m., "most likely he's late as usual."

"Yeah, you probably right," Langly acknowledged as he tried to take a drink from his cellophane cup only to find it was already empty, then the monitor came to life.

SB: What did Mack the Knife do?

LG: He made Frankie fish food with a pair of cement galoshes.

SB: What do you do? Get a local gypsy to come up with these passwords?

LG: Tealeaves do a great job every time.

SB: Anyway, I'm going to be out of contact for the next five days.

LG: Doing what.

SB: Playing bodyguard and guide for a dignitary.

LG: Interesting, anything else.

SB: I need a new set of fake boobs.

LG: What happened, did someone bite a little too hard?

SB: Got in a tight spot and had to jettison the extra baggage.

LG: I wonder if they are as squeezable as Scully's.

SB: I better not find your fingerprints all over them, Frohike.

LG: Why not. Don't you want me to make sure they're just as hot as Scully's?

SB: Buy your own toys.

LG: We'll make sure your new tits reach you by the time you reestablish contact, anything else.

SB: How about the UFO?

LG: Our sources in NASA confirmed UFO activity over Japan and a couple of photographs 'loaned' to us show it was a very large object.

SB: Interesting

LB: Any developments on your end?

SB: It looks like two new alien females have joined the others at the Masaki compound, an unknown woman and a galactic police officer.

LB: Man, what I wouldn't give to be the rooster in that hen house.

SB: Down, Frohike, down.

LB: See you in five days.

The monitor went dead while Byers said, "Well, anyone for Dennys."

********

Hanawa Kazuichi Machiya (Kazuichi Hanawa Townhouse)

MacClean turned off his computer and relaxed for a moment with a damp yellow towel around his neck, thinking, 'Well, that's taken care of. I've already called the radio station to let them know that I've been called away on 'family business'.' The station manager knew what family business meant and made the usual boss noises yet relented when he knew he couldn't afford to lose his star deejay. The transplanted American knew he would have to bring in gifts to his co-workers in six days, a way to make up for the inconvenience of his absence.

The only thing that mildly concerned MacClean was the earring on his right ear. When he was in the furo's dressing room, the mirror showed a trickle of dried blood from his earlobe to the crosses, he also found the item's catch was fused solid. As he soaked in the furo's hot water, he replayed the encounter with the two teenagers before he concluded, "Obvious this Belldandy is an authentic practitioner of the ancient ways," then he touched each cross and found the Cross of St. Mark was missing, "a talisman with limits."

"Well, I can use all the good luck I can get," MacClean declared as he stood up from his computer, walked into his kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. With his right hand, the man reached inside the machine and fished out a very old carton of milk that he kept behind a big jar of mayonnaise. Taking the carton with him, the shorthaired man sat on his futon in the middle of his living room, opened the wax container's top and turned it over. Out of the oblong box and into his left hand fell a necklace of gold with an uncut yellow diamond in the middle, a gem that look like a sunburst. As his gray eyes stared at the crystal wonder, he remembered how it came to be his.

It was twelve months ago, MacClean was in Tokyo at the end of another operation when he found a dying man in an alley, behind a Western styled video game parlor on the very edge of the Azabudai district. Red rivers flowed from his multiple wounds while his face and hands had a corpse's color to them. The American saw his condition and said, "I'll call the keisatsu."

"Iie," only because it was three o'clock in the morning could MacClean hear his words, "I don't matter but this does," he handed the blond man an envelope bulging with papers, "they are after the Druid Sun," life's glow slowly fading in his brown eyes, "it mustn't come into their possession."

"Who are they?" MacClean had a suspicion.

"They exist in our darkest dreams," the man's mouth barely able to say the words, "corrupters of our hopes, the eaters of our light, they seek the Druid Sun to further their plans."

"What plans?" MacClean leaned ever closer to here the brown-haired man's words.

"The Awakening has happened," red bubbles mixed with his words, "the guardians search for the princess but I won't be able to help them," the body sagged into Death's embrace and MacClean's gray eyes widen as the human body shrinks into a body of a brown cat with a crescent moon on its forehead.

MacClean put the white envelope under his shirt, then he took off his light-blue sport jacket, laid it flat on the ground, carefully lifted the dead cat with both hands, placed it on the jacket, wrapped it around the small body and carried the package as if it was the most precious thing in the universe.

At the breaking of the dawn as the Buddhist monks at the Zojo-ji said their morning prayers, MacClean came through the temple's wooden gate and waited in the courtyard with an oblong plastic package in his arms. After the prayers were finished, a young priest came to him and asked in heavily accented English, "Good morning, how may I help you?"

The gaijin surprised the black-robed man by bowing, saying, "Konnichiwa, I would like a cremation and burial done for me by this temple."

"I'll get the so (Buddhist Priest) who's been assigned that responsibility," the young priest gave an embarrassed bow as he switched over to Nihongo, before he scurried off to find the person.

It didn't take long for the young priest to return with a much older priest, the hard look the old man kept giving the young man showed the poor kid was going to get it later. When the pair reached MacClean, the older man bowed before asking in a respectful voice, "Konnichiwa, I was made to understand by this ahondara (slow-witted imbecile)," another hard look, "you would like our temple to perform a cremation and burial."

"Hai," the blond-haired man made a gesture with the package, "I would like you to take care of my neko, he was a warrior with a noble heart."

The older priest's shaggy eyebrows popped up at the strange request and he said, "Zojo-ji was once the family temple of the Tokugawa," then his eyes became flinty, "many will demand a great price to be paid for us to perform the ritual."

"Those who have given their lives for humanity deserve the recognition of kings," priest of many winters heard the righteous tone in the gray-eyed man's voice, then he took out a wad of bills with his right hand and gave them to the elder priest, "this should cover the costs."

"Amply," the elder said, then snapped his fingers and pointed at the package, the younger priest immediately responded by tenderly taking the package from the American's arms, then the older priest asked in a neutral tone, "where do you want us to bury this great samurai?"

"He will be buried at the Aoyama Reien (Aoyama Cemetery)," the gaijin pulled out a business card and handed it to the tanned head elder, "this will cut through the red tape."

The astonishment of the youngest priest showed at the mention of one of the oldest and most sacred cemeteries in Nihon, stayed hidden behind the elder priest calm resolve but that wall was breached when he saw the name on the card and his voice showed it, "May I ask your name, so the owner of this card will know who is using it."

"Kawatta-san," bright amusement in the man's eyes at the older priest's confusion before he added, "she will know," then he bowed to the two priests and said, "Sayonara."

The two returned the bow and said, "Sayonara."

It was then the young priest got a quick look at the business card and he paled at the power of the name it showed, uttered, "Do you think such a gaijin would . . . "

"Baka!" the elder priest gave the pink-headed priest a diamond hard look, "Couldn't you feel the confidence he had with our language and our ways, I have no doubts about him knowing the saishu (High Priestess) of the Ise-jinja."

Three days later, MacClean was coming out of the terminal at Heathrow Airport, London, only to find his ears catching a young female voice cursing in Nihongo, "You baka-chin! You stole my neko and now you stole my cab!"

The irate person was a slim girl with very long flaxen hair with a modest red bow in her hair with the cut of her sky-blue knee-length skirt and a paler blue blouse showed she was in her early teens. MacClean was very sure the girl fired off her words knowing no one around her knew what she just said, so the American couldn't pass up the opportunity to show how wrong she was, "Oya Maa! Such language from a young ojosan, a representative of our culture."

The teenager nearly jumped out of her clothes and she snapped around with shamefaced shock, expecting to see an elder woman or man the source of the Nihongo reprimand, her shock was replaced with surprise when she saw a twenty-something man with a Cheshire Cat's grin on his face. She was still undecided if she should be shameful, angry or both, when MacClean said, "Ojosan, may I offer my aid to you?"

The girl seemed to swallow a hot retort so she answered with a nod and with one of the few English words she knew, "Please."

MacClean returned the nod and it didn't take him long to flag down a cab that could handle both the six suitcases the girl had with her and his backpack and an overnight bag. The girl gave the driver a piece of paper with the address and MacClean gave his verbally. While the cabbie held the door open, MacClean gave his card to the girl while saying, "My name is Nikko-san."

The girl's blue eyes looked suspiciously at him but they brightened at once due to the Nihongo words on the card: Nikko Talent Agency, Tokyo, Nihon. With an actress smile on her face, the girl said, "I'm Aino Minako."

MacClean made a you're-first gesture toward the cab and the girl identified as Minako leapt into the black car, what caught him by surprise was she grabbed his left hand as she was passing him and half-dragged him onto the backseat. In an attempt to regain his composure, the shorthaired man asked, "So what is this about a neko."

"They took Artemis from me!" Minako's outrage renewed, "Told me he had to be quarantined for thirty days!"

"Really?" MacClean egged her on.

"Artemis might be lazy and a klutz," Minako shook her right fist like she wanted to punch someone, "but he is not diseased!"

Then without losing a beat she faced MacClean and asked, "So why are you here in London?" then she put an ocean of charm in her face when she added, "Looking for a new face to add to your book?"

"Actually, I'm on vacation," Minako's brightness went from a supernova to a light bulb at the first part of MacClean's statement, "but that doesn't mean I'll overlook any diamond-in-the-rough," the supernova was back.

"Oi, I'm flooding with ability!" Minako's hands between her knees as she bounced in her seat.

"You mean you're overflowing with talent," MacClean corrected her.

"That too!" Minako asserted and for the rest of the trip the girl sang songs, performed bits of dialogue from plays and did comedy skits from television shows. By the time the cab reached Minako's destination, the Little Nihon Restaurant in London's Asian community.

After the cabbie unloaded her luggage, Minako asked as she got out of the cab, "So do you think I'll get to see you again?"

"Dewa, my hotel isn't that far from here," a friendly smile on MacClean's face as he got back into the vehicle, "so we might bump into each other here in London."

"How about in Tokyo?" MacClean heard the big hope in the question Minako's asked through the door's opened window.

"An aidoru has been made with less ability than you have," MacClean gave an honest assessment as he closed the door.

"Arigato!" Minako bounced up and down and waved with both hands as the cab left.

The next time the two met was not where either one of them thought it would happen. The next day was a cold day with thin clouds flying overhead as MacClean knelt down on one knee before a white gravestone, in a cemetery on the other side of the English Channel, in a French province known as Normandy. He had just laid a pair of red poppies in front of the marker, with the name of Master Sargent Bernard Rodgers upon it, then closed his eyes, inclined his head and his lips moved in a silent prayer just as he had done at ten other graves. When the ritual was finished, the man in the tanned trench coat stood up and found to his surprise a young girl standing just outside the sea of crosses and star-of-davids, her palms pressed together, her head bowed and an angelic look upon her face. MacClean stood and waited for Minako to finish her prayer, when she did her own eyes and words showed the same surprise the man felt, "Gomen nasai, Nikko-san."

"Aino-san, you didn't see me?" MacClean's amusement was tempered with concern.

"I . . . I . . . was kind of lost in my thoughts," confusion in Minako's blue eyes like she was trying to remember something.

"Do you usually wander cemeteries?" MacClean asked lightly.

"Iie," Minako gave a grateful smile as the wind rustled the hem of her white trench coat, "I came here to pay respect to those who died for freedom," then her wind-flushed face clouded with sorrow and her words took on a haunted sound, "for those who died for love."

MacClean calmly walked to Minako as the young girl continued, "I can't do that in my homeland," she looked down and to one side, "we have memorials to farmers and soldiers who tried and failed to protect their freedom," the salty wind carried her tiny drops of sadness, "but there are no grave or memorial for someone who succeeded."

"That's not completely true, Aino-san," a gentle strength in MacClean's correction, his hands got out a small pad of paper and pen, wrote something down, tore off the piece of paper and offered it to the girl.

"Kore wa nan desu ka?" questioned Minako as her right hand took the paper.

"Its directions to the grave site in Nihon," MacClean took out a green handkerchief and carefully wiped away tears Minako didn't know she was shedding, "of a man who succeeded in his protection of the liberty of over two thousand families."

"Kya, look at me!" her face redder at her embarrassment, "Crying like a kodomo."

"That's oke, Aino-san," a polite smile on his face, "the tree of liberty is watered by the tears of patriots."

"Isn't that blood?" Minako's eyes danced with delight at her chance to correct someone else's incorrect use of an idiom.

"In this situation," MacClean gave the young lady a toothy grin, "I think tears will suffice."

Minako couldn't help smiling before she again looked at the name on the paper, saying with a serious tone, "He must've been a great man."

"Iie, just an ordinary man with an ordinary wife," every word MacClean said echoed with respect, "with an ordinary job as ambassador of Poland, yet when people asked for his help he didn't turn them away," now it was Minako's turn to witness a deep agony on MacClean's part, "with eyes turned red by lack of sleep, with aching fingers caused by endless writing of visas, he gave families a chance to escape the Nazi's genocide."

"You act like you knew him," Minako said with sudden insight.

"Iie, I didn't but my ojiisama knew him" a guarded look in MacClean's eyes, "just as I came here to honor the men he knew."

Minako put the paper in her coat pocket before saying, "Domo arigato, Nikko-san."

"Do itashimashite, Aino-san, now let's go catch the ferry back to England," merriment in MacClean's gray eyes, "I'm sure that iro otoko I saw with you last night is lonely for your company."

Minako went a shy and girlish, "Alan-san is the musuko of my otousama's itoko, I'm staying with them while I'm here," then she gave MacClean a playful shove as she accused, "What are you doing, spying on me?"

"Iie, I was checking out the band playing that night," MacClean said disarmed words as they walked together.

"They were suge gu!" Minako seemed to dance next to him.

"Hai, they were, Aino-san," MacClean was happy to see Minako's delight.

"Ne ne, you can call me Minako," the wind made her hair a blond halo around her happy face, "since you're going to be my agent."

MacClean chuckled and then said, "You're certain."

"By the time we get back to London," a teenager's determination in Minako's face, "I'll have blown you with my charms."

"You mean, dazzle me with your charms," MacClean went with the less provocative correction.

"That too, ne!" the two made their way to the road where several cabbies waited.

On the way back to London, MacClean couldn't help find delight in the bouncy Minako, her endless optimism and butchered idioms vanished away his old memories of past loss and gave him a moment where he didn't have to think about the importance of his mission in London. Yet underneath all that teenager sweetness and natural charisma, MacClean remembered the look he saw in Minako's eyes at the cemetery, the kind he had seen in a soldier's eyes, one who saw too much war and had no comrades left, a survivor's loneliness.

As MacClean once again dropped her off in front of her cousin's restaurant, he asked, "You know you haven't told me why you're in London?"

"Oi, I'm such an ei eichi o wa yo (ying-yang)!" Minako thumped her head with her right fist, "I'm spending my vacation here to see if I might want to be an exchanged student this coming school year."

"Going aboard and living with other people is a great experience," a studious tone to MacClean's voice, "it makes you conscious of the similarities we all have with each other," then he his tone took on deepness, "and it makes you respectful of the differences."

MacClean's words stirred Minako's curiosity, "Ara, is that why you decided to live in Nihon?"

"It's one of many reasons," MacClean gave a vague answer to hide what he might have hinted at.

"Dewa, don't forget me when you get back to Tokyo," Minako waved at him and MacClean returned the gesture as he left in the cab.

The number of days was only three before the two vacationers found themselves within eyesight of each other, this time it was the Celtic Exhibition at Epping Castle, Essex. In an attempt to capitalize on the growing interest on Britain's Celtic heritage and to help pay for the ancient castle's repairs, several public and private collections donated some of the best preserved artifacts of this vanished culture, a culture that had dominated Europe from the Shetland Islands to Sicily and from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Black Sea. Several of the first floor rooms now contained large and small display cases as well as wax statues of the people known as the Celts and some of their opponents, like the Romans. It was in one of these rooms that MacClean carefully examined a heavy gold necklace with an uncut yellow diamond as the only adornment. As his nose was almost touching the display glass, he heard a male voice say behind him, "One of the few examples of a natural sunburst."

MacClean unbent and turned around to find the gray-haired curator for the exhibition standing behind him, in a very clean black business suit with a white rose in his lapel. MacClean nodded and smiled but said, "Yes it is, for a reproduction."

The curator's black eyes stared for a second before he cleared his throat and asked, "How were you able to . . . " he left his question unfinished.

"I've had dealings with counterfeits before," MacClean pulled out a business card and gave it to the curator, it read: Nikko Investigations, Tokyo, Japan.

The curator paled and asked, "You don't suspect some of the exhibits here are stolen artifacts."

"No, I'm just here to enjoy the beautiful artwork," a pleasant smile on MacClean's face, "my only concern was if you knew about everything here being fakes."

The curator put his right index finger horizontal to his lips and motioned the American to follow him, as the two men entered an empty side room the blond man caught a glimpse of a red butterfly bow amongst yellow hair but before he could make sure of his suspicion, they reached a corner and the curator started to say, "For a man of your background, you can understand the costs of insurance and security can be very expensive," his eyes remained alert to anyone coming in, "so the general public will see professional reproductions while certain people will get a private showing of the real artifacts."

"In other words, it's easier to protect one sealed off room than several open rooms," MacClean said with a knowing look.

"And with the maps, the drawings and the wax eye-candy," a drop of acid contempt in the curator's voice, "the public won't know the difference."

"Don't worry," a disarming charm in MacClean's voice, "I have no intention of rocking-the-boat," then he gave a little shrug, "besides I work in this business and I don't want to lose potential customers."

"Good chap," the curator offered his right hand and MacClean shook it, "I was sure I could count on such a bright fellow like you," then MacClean noticed a sly look on the man's face, "So you work in Japan?"

"It's my base of operations," a neutral tone to MacClean's answer.

"I'm curious, have you had the chance to study this Sailor V phenomenon," MacClean picked up a hint of anger in the man's tone, "that been happening in Tokyo."

"You mean the news media hype about a teenybopper in a red-white-and-blue sailor suit running around capturing cooks and vaporizing aliens," a Cheshire Cat's grin on MacClean's face.

"You don't believe it?" the curator's eyes took on a hooded appearance.

"Of course not," barely checked laughter in MacClean's tone, "I'm absolutely sure it's a publicity stint to promote the Sailor V comic book, video game and animation series."

"So it isn't real," MacClean was sure the curator's opinion about his intelligence had hit rock bottom.

"The next thing you'll be telling me is some people have seen some guy running around in a star-and-strips costume carrying a round shield," sparkling mischief in MacClean's gray eyes.

"Well, I've got to go check on something," the curator made the usual parting statement.

"As do I," MacClean gave the counter parting, "Take care"

"I will," the curator waited until MacClean left the room before he added, "your ignorance will make the Dark Kingdom's retaking of this world much easier."

It only took a moment for MacClean's ears to radar on Minako's spirited voice and for his eyes to spot her with a tall, young man with brown hair, a youth Minako had identified as Alan. The American took a circular route so he would come up behind them and he was halfway on his chosen route when he saw Alan ask an assistant curator about something. The page-cut haired woman pointed out of the room and Alan turned to Minako and he said something to her, she gracefully smiled and the young man left the room. At this point MacClean saw the thirteen-year-old take out a compact and it looked like she was checking her face but his intelligent gaze showed him she was slowly turning so the mirror would scan the room. It was at this point with the shorthaired man ten feet behind her that he saw the curator's reflection in her mirror and he froze. It was humanoid but not human, his unearthly good looks made that plain but when Minako's mirror shifted to his assistants, they appeared as beings with dagger-like fingers and a mouth of pointy teeth, their flesh was of some kind of dark material. Then MacClean saw Minako's reflection and he quickly turned away to find something else to look at because her reflection was one of the most beautiful that he every saw, a beauty equal to any picture of Venus he had ever seen, yet his awe of the reflection's loveliness was mixed with apprehension because it wasn't exactly a copy of Minako's face. The Image had enough changes as to make it almost impossible to connect it with Minako but MacClean was certain of one thing, the reflection belonged to Sailor V due to the red masquerade mask on the reflection's face and the crescent moon on her forehead. Unknown to the American was that his quick attempt to hide his discovery kept him from seeing Minako's startled intake of air when her mirror showed his reflection.

'What will Minako do?' MacClean thought, 'Just like me, she's seen the true form of the curator and his people,' then he mentally kicked himself, 'Of course I know what she'll do, this is Minako for crying-out-loud, one or one hundred she'll try to find some deserted place where she can transform and attack these creatures,' an icy chill touched his soul, 'I can't let that happen, my little conversation with the curator has put them on alert,' even now his sight showed the curator going around and talking to his assistants, 'the element of surprise will be gone and Minako won't have a chance.'

With desperation born from guilt MacClean spun toward Minako and said with a cheery tone, "Minako-chan, just the person I wanted to see!"

Several people gave MacClean a hard look at his noisy outburst and even Minako jumped a little before she gave him a studious look while timidly saying, "Nikko-san."

Minako's look made MacClean paused and he asked as his right index finger pointed at his face, "Do I have something on my face?"

"Iie, iie," the shakes of Minako's head produced a golden rainbow with her hair, then with a cautious smile she continued, "So what is your good news?"

"I've decided to take you on as a client," ecstatic glitter entered Minako's sapphire eyes, "I even booked a recording studio for this afternoon, just on the off chance you're free and I could find you in time."

"Of course I'm free . . . " Minako paused to frown before she finished, "Komatta wa! Alan-san is with me!"

"Bring him along," MacClean countered her disappointment, "I might have to leave so you'll need someone to act as an interpreter," then a possible snag entered the slim man's brain, "He does know Nihongo?"

"Hai," Minako's good-natured spirit was evident in her attempt to use an English idiom, "Alan-san has made my visit here a wedge of pie."

"You mean a piece of cake," MacClean found himself automatically corrected the girl in the blueberry-colored blazer and cream white skirt.

"I wouldn't mind having both!" Minako's left hand grabbed MacClean's right hand and pulled him along in the direction Alan had gone.

The excited teenager and the amused adult reached the young man as he came out of the men's bathroom, the first thing he heard was Minako's giddy voice, "Alan-san, this is Nikko-san," MacClean gave a wave with his free hand, "He's asked me to be his client! SUGE GU!"

"Minako-san, please lower your voice," Alan was conscious of the stares they were getting from everyone.

"Alan-san, aren't you happy for me?" Minako's face wore a hurt look.

"Baka na, of course I'm happy for you," Alan quickly agreed with her, "It's wonderful news."

Minako's cute smile returned and she said, "Gu! Because Nikko-san wants me to go to an audio studio to make an audition tape," a spell-like gaze came from her blue eyes, "and I was hoping you'd come with me?"

"Ee," a warm smile upon Alan's lips, "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Yatta!" Minako let go of MacClean's hand, latched onto Alan's right arm and pressed her face against his shoulder as a dreamy look filled her face.

Minako remained on cloud nine while Alan's steps guided hers as they followed MacClean out the front entrance and the older man flagged down a cab. It took a pothole in the country road to bring Minako out of her blissful trance in the back seat of the vehicle with Alan on her left side and MacClean on her right side. She stared at the blond-haired man as he talked on a cellphone in English, "Thanks Gus, I know its short notice but I think this young lady has potential."

"My good man," only MacClean heard the reply, "some of my studio musicians just finished a session with George and I'm sure they wouldn't mind working with another legend."

"You're laying it on rather thick, Gus," a light condemnation in MacClean's voice, "the last time I produced a record Bruce had fuzz on his cheeks."

"So what," Gus chuckled back, "some still remembered Sunshine for talking Bob into going electric."

"Gus," MacClean rolled his eyes, "Bob was going to do that anyway, I just joked he should do it at the Newport Folk Festival."

"Righto, omate," Gus' voice full of humor, "and the rest is history."

"Yeah," a grumpy sound to MacClean's words, "how to get twenty-thousand people mad at you at the same time."

Laughter barked over the receiver and the man other end said, "I'll see you when get here."

"See you then," MacClean hit the off button while he heard Alan said, "Minako-san, it's not polite to stare at someone."

"Oi, Alan-san, I didn't mean to ne," a pair of roses bloom on Minako's pink cheeks, "I was just imagining how Nikko-san would look like with long red hair."

"Nani?" bafflement in MacClean's one word comment, which matched Alan's mystified look, the only response the girl gave the two men was a beaming smile.

A couple of hours later the cab pulled up in front of the Marquee Studio and released its passengers. Just inside the entrance, a burly man with arms like beer barrels met them and hugged MacClean as he roared out, "Sunshine! Where in the Bloody Hell have you been hiding!"

"Japan . . . " MacClean had just enough air to get the word out.

"Well, it's good to see you in Londontown again," the man let go of MacClean only to give the blue-faced American's upper back a loud slap with his right hand which almost finished the man off, "and you still look like a young pup," the yellow lens of his eyeglasses flashed as he shook his head, "you and Dick Clark must have the same plastic surgeon."

"Yeah, Gus," MacClean recovered enough to make the introductions, "Gus Dudgeon, may I introduce you to the Minako Aino and Alan Harper."

"Ahh . . . the girl you talked about and her friend," Gus offered his hand to each in turn, Alan got a squeeze that left his hand white but Minako received a teddy bear shake, then he asked MacClean, "So what songs did you want her to do, my studio musicians can handle anything."

"Well I was thinking of starting her with . . . " MacClean switched from English to Nihongo when he saw Minako bouncing from one foot to the other, "Minako-san, Doka gai ka?"

"I . . . need . . . to . . . you . . . know . . . " hesitant modesty slowed Minako's answer before she got on her tiptoes and whisper softly in MacClean's right ear, "I need to take an oshikko (wee-wee)."

MacClean's grinned lopsidedly at the helpless look on Minako's face before he asked Gus in English, "Gus, Minako needs to use the little girl's room."

"Not a problem," Gus's thick hand point down a hall next to the secretary's desk, MacClean added an open palm gesture to it and Minako gave a quick bow of thanks before on fleet feet she ran into the hall. Her darting eye saw a person in a checkerboard skirt, go through a door with a bathroom marker on it and went into it in a flash, was out of it just as fast with a screech and went into the other one marked as a bathroom. Gus grinned wide as he said, "It sounds like she followed Phil into the wrong bathroom."

"He still wears his hair down to his ass?" MacClean's grin was as big as Gus' while Alan gave them both a dirty look.

Gus nodded while adding, "At least now he washes it."

A couple of minutes passed before the already mentioned man in a Scottish kilt came over to them, shook MacClean's right hand while saying, "Sunshine, oeight, long time no see," then he asked, "the Asian girl, the one who followed me into the men's room, is she the dove you told Gus about?" MacClean nodded, then Phil's green eyes went to Alan, "And I'll bet this is her boyfriend."

"I'm Alan Harper," a surprised look on the young man's face, "and I'm Minako's friend, that's all."

"Oh, you mean she's free," a hungry look in Phil's eyes.

"I wouldn't say that either," a protective look in Alan's black eyes.

All three adults gave the teenager a knowing look and then Gus asked, "So which songs do you want Minako to sing?"

"You happen to have the sheet music for Kyu Sakamoto's version of "Ue O Muite Aruko" as well as Taste of Honey version?" MacClean's voice gained a professional tone.

"Ue O Muite what?" both Gus and Phil said with bewildered looks.

"Sorry, been in Japan too long," MacClean chuckled at his own mistake, "I mean "Sukiyaki."

"Aye," Phil answered, "I'm sure our database has the original version and we use teleprompters now instead of sheet music."

"I know," a chagrined look on MacClean's face, "I was just caught in the past."

"Any other songs," Gus returned to the original inquiry.

"Minako knows only a few English words," MacClean's professional attitude returned, "so let see how well she can sing phonetically by having her do "The Rose," then have her do a couple of songs she knows the Japanese versions."

"Hmm . . . " Phil thought before he suggested, "how about "Yesterday" and "In My Life."

"Good suggestion," MacClean smiled, "two songs that all Japanese sing in karaoke booths."

"MacClean, why don't we use your hit to test her phonetic singing?" a sly look on Gus' face.

"C'mon, Gus," MacClean gave a frustrated sigh, "It only broke into the bottom of the chart here in Britain and it didn't even reach the basement of the Top Forty in the States."

"Nani?" the Nihongo word made the four males realize that Minako had joined them.

Relieved that Minako interruption had stopped Gus' attempt, MacClean said as he gestured toward Phil, "Minako-san, let me introduce you to Phil Dunne."

Minako was timid at accepting Phil's handshake, she glanced down at his kilt with its purse chained to his waist, MacClean couldn't help but to grin at the teenager's reaction, saying, "because his obasama is related to the ancient kings of Dumbarton, he fancy's himself a Scot."

"Oi," Minako still looked nervous.

"Come, Miss Aino," Phil gave a friendly smile to Minako as he motioned to another hallway, "we've got number five ready for you."

Minako looked at MacClean and Alan, with the older man holding his thumb up and the younger man giving the o.k. sign. With such endorsement, Minako put on a cheery look before she nodded to Phil. The small group moved down the hall to a room marked five and entered, inside was the normal equipment necessary for recording along with five musicians. After Phil and Gus introduced the new people to Minako, MacClean and Alan, they got down to business. All the musicians affirmed that they were familiar enough with the songs selected that they wouldn't have any problems playing them. So Alan and MacClean settled down in the control booth with Phil at the mixer while Gus guided the teenager to the teleprompter, gave her a wireless mike and had the musicians and the teleprompter run through the first song to get her comfortable with it.

After the first number, Phil let out a long whistle, "Sunshine, this kid is raw but she's got talent, lots of it."

"You think so?" questioned Alan with delight in his voice.

"Except for the beginning jitters," Phil continued, "She dropped into a very charismatic performance and she handled the English words very well." The next song brought more words from the thin man, "this bobbysoxer is a keeper, her voice is clear, strong and relays emotions very well."

"A pearl of great value," Alan commented with awe.

MacClean made a pretense of looking at his watch before saying, "I've got to make another appointment, so after she finished with the selection, give her the CD and tell her I'll contact her tomorrow," then he pulled out a wad of bills and placed them in the chair he just vacated, "this should cover the costs."

As MacClean headed for the door, Phil said, "Hey, omate, don't be a stranger," a warm smile on his lips, "let me and Gus buy you a pint and talk about what you've been doing in Japan."

MacClean flashed a knowing smile at Phil, saying, "If I told you guys the truth, you'd think I'm shagging you."

Phil chuckled, Alan frowned and MacClean was gone. He didn't like the way he used Minako's dreams to deceive her but he just couldn't stand by and watch Sailor V die before overwhelming odds, along with many innocent witnesses.

It was eleven o'clock at night before MacClean made his move at Epping Castle. Instead of the business suit he wore earlier, the man's body was covered from head to foot in light absorbing black material, with one-way eye lens, breathing filter and millimeter armor plates woven into the material for protection against knives and inertia absorbers for punches and bullets. The man reached his entry point, the no longer used chimney that led straight down to a bricked-up fireplace in the room where the fake Druid Sun was kept. From careful study of the castle's blueprint, the man lowering himself down on pulleys and black wires was sure the real artifacts were in a sealed off room next to this one. When the stealthy man reached the vent over the fireplace, he was able to peek over a framed picture that covered it to view the room, everything there was as it was this morning with a new addition that glued his eyes. When MacClean first scoped out the room, one display titled "First Century BC Celtic Queen-Priestess" was missing its wax stature. The figure was of a blue-eyed young woman, her blond hair in a long single braid running down her back, her body sat on a bowl-shaped no-back chair, in her right hand she held a small crescent scythe and in her left hand was a sprig of mistletoe, but what made MacClean's eyes linger was the stature was nude from the waist up, as was the custom in those times, yet in the back of his mind, the man couldn't shake the feeling that something about the stature wasn't right but no matter how much he looked at the flawless pink skin and rosy nipples, he couldn't figure it out.

MacClean finished his journey and used a penlight in the fireplace to guide his hands as he applied a creamy substance from a tube to the mortar in a three-by-three square area of the brick wall, then he took a can out of his black bag, attached a tiny three-inch pipe to the nozzle and sprayed the white substance. A chemical fire and smoke were the result and in less than ten minutes, the combination had removed the old mortar from those bricks. The man waited another ten minutes for the area to cool before he took out and carefully stacked the bricks on one side, now there was a one-foot hole. The man listened for a moment to pick up any noise but heard nothing, so on his back he wormed his way in.

From his hole with only half his head exposed, MacClean looked around but found no one waiting to grab him, so he hooked his fingers in the edge of the bricks and in a fluid motion pulled his body out and into a slowly turning crouch from where he stood. Nothing stirred in the room so MacClean made his way to a marble head on a Roman pillar next to where a door should be. During his morning casing, he noticed the guards would ignore everything in this room but would check the stature out every time. With a careful feel of his hands, he found the concealed latch and opened it, inside was a keypad. He put his respirator in his bag, then he pulled out his own keypad and a screwdriver, with the penlight held by his teeth, MacClean quickly removed the shinny screws, lifted up the keypad, removed the wires and attached them to his keypad, then he punched in a code and waited for the device to do its magic.

One green light came on meant the security system for the room was deactivated but MacClean didn't have a chance to smile at his success, because quick steps and a shout from behind him killed it, "Sailor V Chop!"

MacClean spun and ducked to his left, this allowed a feminine arm making an left-to-right flat chop to pass just over his head and clearly cut the marble stature of Claudius Caesar in two, the maneuver also rewarded MacClean with a hard nipple in his cloth-covered mouth, now the man-in-black realized what had bugged him about the wax figure, its nipples were hard due to the chill in the spring night air.

Fire blazed in Minako's eyes at where the featureless face was and she shouted, "Sailor V Kick!"

With MacClean's body already coiled, he was able to somersault over the half-naked girl's kick, even though her bouncy breasts were yanking his chain, Sailor V's kick did make contact and one less suit of Roman armor was the result.

The sound of frustration was in Sailor V's next shout, "Sailor V Iron Muscle Punch."

MacClean stole a look at the keypad, two green lights showed which meant the door's timer was successful changed, but both the glimpse and Sailor V's twin treasures proved to be enough to fracture his concentration and allowed her to get a glancing blow on his right ribcage. The masked man rolled through two display cases and bounded back onto his feet, from where he shouted, "No fair! Three against one!"

"Baka-mono!" self-righteous anger on the girl's face, "Look at all the beautiful things you've ruin!"

"Baka yourself!" MacClean fired back, "They're reproductions!"

"Reproductions?" a blank look caused more by someone talking to her in Nihongo than by the word.

"Fakes, you usunoro (lamebrain)," MacClean's words made sharp by the pain his right hand's slight touch to the place where the heroine hit him, even with the inertia absorber he could tell he had a cracked rib, maybe two.

"Dewa that doesn't give you the right to be so insulting," the bare chest lady returned.

"Subarashii," both combatants looked across the room as the curator came in, along with his ten assistants and guards, then he continued, "Not only was my trap successful in the capture of Sailor V, I've also snagged another do-gooder," a thoughtful look on his face, "I believe the man from Nikko Investigations."

"Nik . . . ko . . . Investigations?" guilt pierced MacClean's soul at the sound of Sailor V's heartache.

MacClean suppressed words of comfort he wanted to tell her and instead spoke righteous words, "Within this collection are the sacred relics of this island nation, I won't let you use their holy power to corrupt the people of this planet."

"So the Druid Sun brought you here just as it did Sailor V," his henchmen filed pass him to take up positions in the middle of the room, then the curator gave Sailor V a leer as he said, "Although I must say her V must stand for a megumi no ko (girl of happiness)."

The fragile look on Sailor V's face went to puff up anger as she shouted, "Crescent Moon Power Transform." In blink-of-a-eye the person before MacClean's eyes went from a half-naked priestess to a red masked young woman in a red-white-and-blue sailor suit, the skirt did cover most of her thighs but the cut of her blouse did show her bellybutton and the red bow on her chest made that ample area even more noticeable. With sacred fire in voice and face she announced, "You, who would take-away people's hopes, you who would shatter young girls' dreams, you who would take the sun from the sky, I will not let this happen! Codename Sailor V! I'm the senshi of love, the senshi of justice. I'm the sailor-suited beautiful senshi, Sailor Venus!"

"Sailor V, you have proven a most annoying thorn in our side," the curator made no attempt to stop MacClean from walking to the newly transformed woman, this motion allowed the man-in-black a sight of the keypad, three green lights were on and he heard the door behind them slid open as the curator added, "But because of your great success, I, Kumonaga, will go down in Dark Kingdom history as the destroyer of Sailor V."

"I don't know about that," a light tone in MacClean's words as his right-hand fluffed up Sailor V's red bosom bow, "she doesn't feel dead." Sailor V gave the offending hand an icy blue glare before her painted lips became redder as the color drained from her face at what she saw in his offending hand and along his forearm.

"Be careful," a dangerous gleam in Kumonaga's black eyes, "that could be your epitaph."

"In that case," MacClean's arms strongly swap forward and two-inch round balls flew from his hands and forearms, "let it say he went out with a bang!"

"Kill them!" Kumonaga screamed out but his men's response was stopped as the round balls stuck to the first thing they touched, including the henchmen. As they paused, MacClean turned around, hooked his left arm around Sailor V's shoulders and he shouted, "Run!"

Without hesitation Sailor V matched his stride but both were lifted off their feet and thrown through the doorway's threshold by the concussion of the bombs going off, when they hit the floor, Sailor V rolled to her left and MacClean to his right as a cone of flame shot into the room.

"Forgot about the gas lighting some of these old castles still use," MacClean said more to himself as he pushed his body to one knee, his vision showed Sailor V was already on her feet as she whipped out her compact and ran back the direction they had came from. The masked man moved to where he could look over the sailor-suited heroine and saw the blackened and burned creatures struggling to their feet, then Sailor V popped open her compact, aimed the mirror at them and shouted, "Sailor V Love Megaton Shower!"

The fire and smoke enshrouded room filled with a shower of golden rain and the creatures let out soul rendering screams as the drops turned them into dust, an added benefit was the same act also put the fire out in the room.

While Sailor V took a few steps into the room with a look of satisfaction on her young face, MacClean made his way to his original target, silently removed the Druid Sun and put it in his black bag. It was at this point, he saw the red masked blond started to turn in his direction while saying, "Nikko-san . . . "

"I'm late! I'm late! I'm late for a very important date!" MacClean shot past Sailor V as his statement confused her. The black costumed man ran to the shattered window that led to the castle's courtyard as he added, "Ja ne!"

MacClean heard the eyebrow twitching anger in Sailor V's incantation, "Sailor V Love Me . . . " became a fearful, "Eep!" by the sound of two silver balls ping-ponging behind him. The two grenades only produced harmless flashes and white smoke but they did their job of stopping Sailor V's attack, the shadows of the courtyard covered his retreat.

This should have been the last encounter in the Isles but lady luck decided to be a real bitch, at least that what MacClean always believed. He had left so many false leads for the police and the Dark Kingdom's soldiers to follow, a rented sail boat at Colchester, a chartered jet at Leeds, a paid fisherman at Blackpool and a rented speedboat at Ramsgate, that he was sure a rowboat bought with cash in Dartmouth by a black-haired old man would go unnoticed. Yet here he was under the ruins of Castle Dore, Cornwall, trapped in a cave complex known as Merlin's Lair, his rowboat at the entrance where a very determined figure stood in the shadows.

Booted steps upon stone had alerted MacClean of someone just outside the entrance as he dragged the craft to where the English Channel's tidal waters would reach it. Without hesitation the sweaty man hid in the underground darkness and watched as dusk's rosy light outlined his pursuer. To his amazement he saw a buxom woman a multicolored sailor suit. Behind rounded outcropping he saw Sailor V check out the contents of the rowboat as MacClean weighed his options, 'Damn, the entrance is still too well lit for me to get by her from here, then his alert eyes saw the pretty soldier straighten up, take a couple of steps up the seawater smoothed floor before calling out, "Nikko-san, give up the Druid Sun."

MacClean played spider, his hope was Sailor V would continue down the main cave and go by his hiding place, so he could make a dash for freedom but this plan crumbled when the flaxen heroine took a few move steps before she stopped and said with a hint of anger, "You can forget about me going any further and letting you slip away from me, Nikko-san, I'm not an ahondara." Then she tapped her red mask as she added, "I've also made adjustments to my mask, so you can forget about those flash grenades."

This was the impasse MacClean had dreaded the moment he found Sailor V was here in England, another person fighting to save humanity. He didn't want to hurt her and the dull ache of his cracked rib told him that such restrictions would allow her to kill him. At this point MacClean played his last card, make this a personal thing, "Gomen nasai, Aino-san, I didn't mean to hurt you like I did."

"Naze wa yo?" It wasn't Sailor V's matured voice MacClean heard coming from those red lips instead it was Minako's thirteen-year-old voice.

"Originally it was to conceal my presence here that I lied to you," the echoes of the words made it impossible for Sailor V to tell where they first came from, "but Aino-san, on that day at the castle I feared for your life and the murder of innocent witnesses, I feared my secrecy would handcuff me from giving you aid and saving them."

"But the studio . . . the recording . . . " the emotion in Minako's voice fragmented her question.

"I wanted to distract you long enough to get the Druid Sun, without the bait, an empty trap won't catch anything," then MacClean put every ounce of warmth he felt for Minako in his next words, "I just didn't think you were as sneaky as I or that you would find out the truth until the freshness of the events was gone."

"It hurts . . . " even from this distance the tinted light of dusk showed to MacClean the blue waters in Minako's eyes.

"While we were living your greatest wish," MacClean tried to take Minako's pain away, "Phil told me you were a natural, a giraffe's child."

"Honto ne?" Minako's voice full of wistful hope.

"But we both know you are meant for something more than a kirei mikake (a pretty face), something better than an aidoru," MacClean knew this was the risky part, "your destiny is much like mine, to protect humanity's freedom, to fight those who would place chains upon the megami of liberty."

"But Nikko-san, the Druid Sun must be returned to its owners," Sailor V said but without conviction.

"You know as well as I that it would be a death sentence," absoluteness in MacClean's tone, "These akurei murdered the original curator and his assistants to get the Druid Sun and to kill you."

"I can protect them and the Druid Sun," Sailor V insisted.

"Aino-san, your place is in Tokyo," MacClean retorted, "your own battles there have shown that it is the center of these bakemono's activities."

"There are others," Sailor V offered, "who can do the job."

"In Aoyama Reien there is a new grave for a fallen hero killed by the Dark Kingdom," MacClean tried to project the naked truth into his words, "a brown neko with a crescent moon on its forehead," the man in the shadows heard Sailor V's quick intake of air before he added, "Iie, Aino-san, the Druid Sun stays with me."

"Nikko-san, I can't let you have it," a fragile tone came into Sailor V's voice, "they would kill you wa yo!"

"Many have tried to draw the last breath from my lungs," MacClean smiled at the care he heard in Minako's words, "and I'm still here," then a teasing tone touched his words, "while you still need to take care of your own life da zo!"

Haughty stubbornness stiffened Sailor V's frame as she said, "I'm not that reckless!"

"Oi, you picked a fight with me when you knew the place was crawling with those oni," MacClean lightly countered.

"I thought you were a youma!" Sailor V glared at the darkness around her then a new thought gave her a suspicious look, "And how do I know you aren't one?"

"Yare-yare, Minako-san (Good grief, Minako!)!" MacClean didn't like the way this was turning out, "I helped you against them!"

"It's not the first time a master of youma turned against another master," Sailor V's vision scanned the shadows, she knew once the sun was gone MacClean could escape her.

"What can I do to convince you that even after what I did to you," a thread of guilt in MacClean's words, "we're friends?"

"Give me the Druid Sun," Minako's one-track mind was in full force.

MacClean shook his frustrated head, looked down only to realize that during the conversation, he had taken the Druid Sun out of the hidden compartment in his heavy fishermen's coat and was holding it in his right hand. Even in this total darkness MacClean gray eyes noted the yellow diamond had a golden glow and its surface was warm in his hand. He looked back at Sailor V but she showed no sign of seeing the soft radiance from the Druid Sun so he brought the gold necklace close to his face and turned the gem one way and then another, suddenly the darkness around him was gone as was the smell of the salty sea.

It was awe he felt first for as far as he could see he was surrounded by the boiling yellow plasma of the sun, yet no fear was in his heart even though he knew death from the inferno's heat or its crushing gravity could claim him at any moment. As he floated in this sea of flowing energy, the man found a human-size orb of gold moved next to him. It neither menaced him, touched him nor tried communicating with him, the oblong egg just stayed there, waiting.

MacClean wasn't sure if he physically touched the golden orb or if his mind did, either way a girlish giggle was the response. He withdrew his contact but it wasn't long before the golden orb moved a little closer, numerous thin threads of its liquid energy spin out from it and lightly touched his being and his mind felt many emotions: curiosity, delight and admiration, then a feminine voice asked, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," MacClean answered although he wasn't sure how he was able to hear the voice or how he was able to answer.

"Do you understand where you are?" a mother's gentleness in the words.

"I think my consciousness is inside the Druid Sun?" MacClean's words were both an answer and a question.

"The object you call the Druid Sun is a device," there was much care taken in using each word, "its function is to allow access to my Star Seed, to me and to my home."

"Who are you and what is a Star Seed?" MacClean knew a part of him wasn't in Kansas anymore.

"I'm called Otaiyo," then amusement came into the voice, "the one playing with you is my musume, Ohiten."

"Playing!" the girlish giggle came again as MacClean reacted to the implications, "I didn't mean to!"

"It's alright, Anthony," a mother's happiness in Otaiyo's words, "Ohiten is very playful, its why I allowed her to meet you first."

"Oh," it was at this point the golden threads slowly withdrew and went back into the golden orb.

"As for the Star Seed," Otaiyo's voice became authoritative, "it is the manifestation of my spirit upon your world and throughout the human era, one human person has carried it within him or her."

"Why?" MacClean had a feel this is why the Dark Kingdom and Sailor V was after it.

"At my birth, at the birth of each star, children like my Ohiten are born within it," a calm patience in Otaiyo's reply, "and if other children are born on the worlds surrounding the star, the Star Seed is sent there to protect all the children from harm caused by wayward beings."

This answer sharpened MacClean's mind and he said, "the aliens."

"Only certain ones you call aliens truly are," Otaiyo corrected, "I'm sure if you met my Ohiten under different conditions you would be calling her an alien."

"True," again the girlish giggles came and it made MacClean wondered if Ohiten was her people's version of a teenager.

"Now we come to part where you must decide," softness came into Otaiyo's voice, "if you will accept the burden of my Star Seed."

MacClean heard a young wordless mutter but it was the words used by Otaiyo that made MacClean ask, "You speak of your Star Seed as a burden, why?"

"There are limits as to when the Star Seed can be used," a quietness to Otaiyo's voice, "and when it is accessed the carrier's mind is rendered unconscious so the Star Seed won't corrupt him or her."

"Mom!" MacClean instantly knew the source of the giggles was from this young voice, "I wouldn't do that!"

"I know, my darling young one," a mother's hard love in the voice, "but the memories you carry could harm his memories and the power you have could corrupt."

This exchange hit MacClean squarely between the eyes, "Ohiten is to become your Star Seed."

"It is a great honor," strength in Ohiten's voice, "to be selected."

"Only by your calling can Ohiten come forth and transform your body," the older voice seemed to know MacClean's reservations at having someone else using his body, "and once the need for her is gone, she will return to her place within you."

MacClean still had some reservations about this arrangement but then something else occurred to MacClean and he gave it words, "Won't Ohiten be lonely?"

"I will be able to watch through your eyes the world," Ohiten answered, "and once the carrier dies by natural means, I will return to here."

"That could be a problem," a warning tone to MacClean's voice, "I'm not a normal human being."

"I know as does Ohiten," a mother's care in Otaiyo's voice, "your uniqueness made me select you."

The impact of her words made MacClean remember Minako's comment about him having red hair and he asked with shock, "Was I preordained to be this carrier?"

"No," a gentle reply came from Otaiyo, "only the first one of this time to be offered this choice."

MacClean was sure that wasn't a complete answer but he carefully weighed the offer and he realized something, "Does that mean the Druid Sun becomes mine?"

"It will belong to you by inheritance," Otaiyo calmly answered but her tone showed she knew MacClean's train-of-thought.

This answer crystallized MacClean's decision and he said, "So how is it done?"

In answer Ohiten moved forward and her gold body surrounded MacClean's being, to him it felt similar to the sun's plasma that had flowed around him during their conversation yet like the Ohiten's gold threads, there was a different nature to it like her consciousness changed it. In an instant everything went black.

MacClean opened his eyes to find himself in a small metal room with a round window to his right and an oblong door on his left, then he realized he was sitting, his pants were at his ankles and his butt was on something round. It took a moment for his confused mind to adjust to the fact he saw clouds outside the window before he said to himself, "I'm on a jetliner but where?" at this point his gray vision saw the letter next to the washbasin. With his left hand he picked it up and felt there were several objects inside as well as a letter, so he tore a corner open and held the opening over his other hand, out came his visa and his passport as well as two more for a young Asian woman with bronze skin, waist length red hair and white eyes, the name on those two were Ohiten Rogers. After MacClean studied the craftsmanship of the forged visa and passport, identified it with a man he knew in Bristol, the blond man fished out the letter and started to read Nihongo words:

"I'm sorry for the shock this first awakening has caused you but I couldn't let your friend capture you and take the Druid Sun from you. Don't worry about Minako, the only thing I harmed of hers was her dignity. I also decided I had a better chance of getting us back home to Nihon, so I used your knowledge to forge a visa and passport for me as well some of your funds to buy a ticket. I also didn't get a chance to thank you for accepting me into your already complicated life, Ohiten Rogers."

Since that occurrence MacClean tried to use the Druid Sun two times to activate Ohiten but nothing happened, so he decided to treat the Star Seed like a secret weapon that could only be used in special circumstances. 'Maybe this is one of them,' MacClean reasoned. He relaxed his body and his mind as his gray eyes focus on the yellow diamond, a moment later a rose soft kiss upon his right cheek awoke him and he found his vision filled by a gold radiance and a few steps from him stood a beautiful young girl with long red hair, white iris eyes and honey colored skin that also showed she was as naked as a jay bird.

MacClean quickly averted his eyes although he wasn't sure why it felt wrong for him to see Ohiten like this, then he said, "Could you please put some clothes on?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Anthony," real regret in Ohiten's English words, "I'm such a ding-a-ling," now admonishment was in her tone, "I made the same mistake when I had my passport photo taken and now I did it again," a few seconds passed before she said, "you can look now."

MacClean looked up to find Ohiten dressed in a midnight blue kimono with twelve-point stars of various colors on it and he got up while she asked, "Since I'm going to live in Japan with you, I thought a traditional dress was in order. Do you like it?"

"Yes," MacClean's heart was warmed by how her face looked like his, then he felt sadness because her Asian eyes and her small nose reminded him of someone else.

"Anthony, I didn't mean to hurt you!" shame in Ohiten's voice at the sadness she saw in his gray eyes, "I only meant to honor you and Rumiko, it's why I used your surname," a youth's confused fright in her eyes, "I'll change . . . "

"No, Ohiten, it's fine," MacClean banished the pain from his spirit and his hands took hold of the young one's slim shoulders, "you're a wish made true."

As quick as it had left delight returned to Ohiten's face and she gave MacClean a full body hug, followed by her heartfelt words, "Rumiko is so much a part of your life and I saw how much it hurt both of you to be just friends," then she looked into MacClean's eyes, "so I wanted to make you both feel like a papa and a mama."

"I'm proud you think of me as your papa," then MacClean's smile became a grin, "although Rumiko might die of shock if she finds she's a mama to a tanned juvenile delinquent."

"You're just as bad as Mom," Ohiten pouted before her expression changed to one of expectation, "So, what's the job."

"I presume by your answering my call," MacClean probed, "that you have an inkling of what I'm asking you to do."

"You want me to make contact with the Jurain princess in a sneaky way," her face took on a foxy look, "so you can find out what this Masaki Ayeka Jurai is really like."

"I think you would have a better chance than I do," a professional embarrassed tone entered MacClean's voice, "especially since I lost my . . . eh . . . "

"Your tits," Cheshire Cat's grin on Ohiten's face.

"Watch your language, girl," MacClean waved his right index finger in front of Ohiten's nose, "the First Princess of Jurai is a very proper young lady and won't loosen up around someone who uses rude grammar or vague words like tits and cunt."

"Okay, Okay, Dad," she kissed the tip of the finger followed by a smaller version of the Cheshire Cat's grin, "I'll watch my Ps and Qs."

"As you already know, the Jurain princess will be leaving tomorrow for Tokyo, so she can search for clues to the whereabouts of someone named Yosho," MacClean saw the electrified interest in the golden girl's face, "and she will be alone."

"Giving me a chance to become buddy-buddy with her," a gamester's delight in her white eyes.

"Watch your step, Daughter," concern in MacClean's tone, "she isn't stupid and she's a trained warrior with a hair-trigger temper."

Ohiten's heart filled her gaze, placed her hands upon his forearms and she bounced up and down on her toes, saying, "You called me daughter!"

MacClean grinned hugely at Ohiten's happiness, then she stopped her dance and her face took on a youth's confidence as she said, "Don't worry Dad, even in my disguised form I can still use your abilities and skills," then a reckless tone edged her next words, "and because the princess is an alien, if things get rough I can transform to my revealed form."

"You mustn't hurt the princess," a father's seriousness in MacClean's voice, "even though she is a young woman, her powers and inherited influence could make a difference in keeping the flame of liberty burning."

"I won't hurt a hair-on-her-head," Ohiten promised but then she gave MacClean a foxy look, "just remember that power attracts power and there are other things in Tokyo that could menace her."

"Why do I have a feeling," a resigned look on MacClean's face, "that Ayeka is about to step through the looking glass."

"Goodnight, Dad," Ohiten hugged MacClean again, "I'll see you in five days."

"Goodnight, Daughter," with that MacClean's sight went black.

********

Notes: Because of fanfiction.net KB limit, my notes are at the end of the TMFFA version of this chapter.