Chapter 3

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"Alright, everyone, if you could turn your attention this way for a moment, I have something to discuss with you," Ikkyu called to his recently created new team of scientists as he entered the lab. His first team of scientists, along with the utterly useless assassin team of Ghandis, having mysteriously stopped breathing and developing knives, pointy staves, swords, and the like through the head, chest, or neck, he had been obliged to create a new scientist team that very night. Although cloning ten new scientists from the remains of his ten favourite old ones – after all, Ikkyu was trying to be economical – had taken a good deal of time and had set him hopelessly behind schedule, it was infinitely easier than trying to create an assassin team of thirty to forty men. So, he had set the task to his ten new scientists while he had gone to take a nap. However… "I've just found out some most disturbing news. Joe has evaded our assassin team, and we currently don't know where he is."

"Well…" the clone of the shy little redheaded kid, whom some of us may remember as Peter, began slowly, "can't we just make a new one?"

Ikkyu looked up at him sharply, and then smiled a rather scary, although utterly calm, smile. The scientist team exchanged wary glances. Then Ikkyu gave a small, barely perceptible nod, and as if on cue, Peter flew across the room, into a wall, and stayed there, pinned firmly in place by shards of broken test tubes, beakers, glass tubing, and flasks, blood seeping out from the various glass-wounds.

Nine scientists stared incredulously in the direction from which the barrage of broken glass seemed to have come. Another Peter smirked back at them as he juggled three Erlenmeyer flasks. Then he crossed the room slowly until he was directly in front of the quickly glazing eyes of his predecessor.

"I think you've missed the point, lad," he chuckled.

"I quite agree," Ikkyu said mildly. "Now, did anyone else have any questions?"

Nine scientists shook their heads vigorously.

"Wonderful. Then let's get started with a new assassin team, shall we?"

"Why?" a tall oldish man, his hair beginning to turn from brown to a fine iron grey, asked in astonishment, already forgetting the fate of Peter, ironically, as the young man's corpse was still cooling on the wall.

"Apparently, when you put twenty clones of St. Benedict of Nursia together on an assassin team, not a lot gets done."

"Uh-oh…" nine scientists chorused together, laughing weakly.

"They all 'rediscovered God', and left my employment to 'dedicate their lives to His service."

"W-we're sorry, sir," the woman with the brown ponytail stammered out lamely. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. I heard that all Christians are violent psychos."

"Yeah; that's what I heard, too," a totally unremarkable brown-haired man agreed.

"It seems as though more research would have benefited in this case," Ikkyu sighed. "Although, the ones that ran off to found monasteries don't worry me nearly as much as the one who stripped naked and threw himself into a rose bush next to the church as penance because a girl walked by and he had impure thoughts about her. He said he couldn't find a thorn patch, so a rosebush would have to suffice."

"Eugh…"

"Yes, Peter, 'eugh' about covers it," Ikkyu said dryly. "Now, shall we try again? And this time, NO PACIFISTS!"

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"Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow! And I thought your apartment had a lot of books!" Joe exclaimed as he and Yomiko followed Joker through the massive room of happy book-ness.

"I'm working on building up my collection," Yomiko confided, eyes wide and sparkly as she gazed around the room. "I think it's good to have something to aspire to."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Joe said with a smile of complete understanding. "I had a goal to fill my home with more coffee beans than anywhere else on earth. But that's all in the past," he hurriedly continued. "My life has nothing further to do with coffee. No serving coffee, no drinking coffee, no…hey, I think I smell coffee!"

"Er…this is the man that the I-Jin are after?" Joker muttered to Yomiko as Joe scampered over to the young man passing with a steaming mug and pleaded with him to let him freshen his cup.

Yomiko made a gesture of helpless confusion.

"Maybe they're really, really bored?"

"I can't do it!" Joe was meanwhile sobbing, huddled in a little ball at the bewildered young man's feet. "I can't give up the coffee business! It's in my blood! Literally! They put coffee in my blood to make me the best coffee guy in existence! Their team of scientists was having an off-day…"

With a long-suffering sigh, Joker swept a hand back over his hair.

"To be honest, Agent Paper, I was beginning to wonder if they're not a little masochistic."

"Yeah," she agreed sadly.

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"Good day to you, Joker," the elderly man greeted from the large, ornate chair where he sat, absently stroking his pet turtle. "And to you, Yomiko."

"Hello, Mr. Gentleman," Joker returned, bowing politely, while next to him, Yomiko smiled cheerfully.

"Hello!"

With a fond chuckle, Mr. Gentleman turned slightly to survey the lanky, dishevelled young man lurking in the doorway.

"Well, come in, then," he called.

Visibly quaking, either with apprehension of with caffeine withdrawal, Joe obeyed, shooting the old man a wobbly smile.

"H-hello, sir," he managed to get out around many vocal cracks.

"And so this is Joe, Official I-Jin Coffee Guy."

"Former Official I-Jin Coffee Guy," Joe corrected. Nervousness or no, there were some things that a person simply had to correct people on. "I quit."

"Yes, we know," Mr. Gentleman said. "You've sent them into quite an uproar, from what I understand."

"That's funny; my boss – well, my ex-boss – said he understood."

"Well, you can't always go by what these villains say. Their true thoughts and feelings are in their actions."

Joe had begun to nod sadly, but halted as something caught his eye.

"Hey, is that coffee you're drinking?" he asked, peering into the mug in Mr. Gentleman's hand.

"Er…yes, yes it is," the old man replied hesitantly, exchanging apprehensive and confused looks with Joker.

"It looks a little muddy. It's got little clouds of coffee grounds in it!"

"Well, that's how it's always been."

"I could tell you how to avoid that, if you'd like."

"Listen, young man, I've drunk my coffee this way for longer than you've been alive. Now, be a good little boy and-"

"You know how to avoid muddy coffee?" Joker broke in, staring admiringly at Joe.

"Indeedy-doo!"

"Joe, when we're done here, would you show me how?"

"Sure! I could also show you fifteen different ways to lighten your coffee without milk!"

"Wonderful!"

"What…just happened?" Mr. Gentleman asked bewilderedly.

Yomiko just shook her head, equally baffled.

"I don't know…why did you want us to bring Joe to you, Mr. Gentleman?"

The elderly man's eye that wasn't trapped behind some sort of mechanical device narrowed as Joe snatched up his coffee cup and began explaining to Joker exactly what was wrong with it.

"Honestly, Yomiko, I've forgotten."

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Three hours and a change of scenery later, Yomiko still hadn't found her answer.

"Mr. Joker?" she called timidly.

No reply from Joker, who was listening in rapt attention as Joe explained the proper way to get just the right consistency of foam from a cappuccino machine. They had relocated to Joker's office once Mr. Gentleman got well and truly fed up with the endless discussion of coffee, and told them that they would discuss what was to be done about the I-Jin just as soon as Joe and Joker could focus.

"Mr. Joe?" she tried.

No reply from Joe, who was apparently rather enjoying the sound of his own voice.

"Oh, well," she shrugged, pulling a book from the inside pocket of her coat. "No one can say I didn't try."

"Joe, I honestly never knew there was so much in the fine art of coffee! And to think, all this time, I've been drinking tea! You have truly shown me the light."

"A light that all too few people get to see. Remember, Mr. Joker, life's too short to drink bad coffee."

"Mr. Joker?" a voice called from the door.

Both men looked up immediately. Yomiko did not.

"Oh! Yes, Wendy, come in," Joker invited warmly.

"I've brought those files you asked for," she said, stepping carefully through the various and sundry piles of papers, books, and the occasional small animal littered about the room. Oh, dear, I forgot to take those home with me, she reflected, blushing brightly, as she noticed a pair of small pink silk undies lying amid the mess near Joker's desk.

"Thank-you very much."

"You're welcome. And shall I bring in your 4:18 p.m. cup of tea?"

"No, Wendy, that's quite all right. I've had several cups of coffee in the last hour," the blond man grinned, his foot tapping energetically against the floor.

"Coffee?" Wendy repeated, confused and a little hurt. "I didn't know you drank coffee."

"Well, I do enjoy a nice cup of joe every now and again."

Yomiko looked up from her book.

"A cup of Joe? That's awful! You don't know where he's been!"

Joker sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily.

"Someone should really explain that quaint colloquialism to her before this becomes a running gag."

"Too late," Wendy said sorrowfully. "You only have to use a joke three times before it qualifies as a running gag."

"It's getting lower every year," Joker reflected, shaking his head sadly at the state of the world. "At any rate, Wendy, would you like a cup of coffee? Our new friend Joe here is something of an expert."

"N-no, thank-you," Wendy replied hastily. "If there's nothing else, sir…"

"No, that was all. In fact, why don't you take a break? It's a beautiful afternoon. Why not go for a walk?"

"If you say so, sir," Wendy agreed, turning to leave, lip quivering slightly, but head held high. After all, she would not lose her dignity before this beverage-serving-usurper! At that moment, her foot caught on the edge of the large area rug spread out over the floor, and she pitched forward.

"Ow," she whimpered plaintively, rubbing her nose.

At the thud, Yomiko looked up from her book, startled, and smiled as her gaze lit on the girl sprawled out on the floor amid a profusion of file folders and papers.

"Oh, hi, Wendy. When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago," the blonde sighed.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course," Wendy assured her, utterly unconvincingly.

"Are you sure? You look a little sad."

"Well…I can't exactly talk about it here."

"Okay, then, let's go talk in the coffee room."

As Wendy bristled visibly, Yomiko shrank back nervously.

"Um…on second thought, let's go talk in the park."

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"I just don't get it," Wendy sighed, dropping to the park bench. "Every day, for as long as I've been his secretary, I've brought him tea everyday at 4:18 p.m., on the button. Every day! Honestly, this has never happened before! What did I do wrong?"

"I don't think you did anything wrong. Joker probably just wanted a cup of coffee."

"But…but…I could have made coffee!"

"Well, Joe is the best coffee guy in existence, you know," the dark-haired girl said thoughtfully. "He was genetically engineered that way, or something."

"I don't care who he is! It doesn't make it hurt any less when my tea and I are swept aside the moment something new and interesting comes along!"

"I'm afraid I don't see the problem, Wendy," Yomiko admitted slowly. "It's just coffee, after all. Mr. Joker will probably get tired of it again in no time!"

"That isn't the point!" Wendy exclaimed, just short of a wail. "I can't just wait around for that to happen! I have needs, too!"

"Um…well…I still don't get it," Yomiko said, shaking her head helplessly.

"What?!"

"You'll have to put it into language she'll understand," a voice from a few feet away said, laughing. "Ask her how she'd feel if someone came along who bought so many books, that all the bookstores started calling them their new best customer."

Both girls looked up abruptly, all set to be annoyed that someone was listening in on their private conversation. Their annoyance melted quickly into astonishment.

"Er…hello," Wendy greeted nervously, moving to the very end of the bench. "Let you out of the hospital, have they? That's…that's good. And reconsidered on that whole 'standing trial' thing? Wonderful news. I'm glad for you, I'm sure."

Nancy smothered a smile, looking from the nervously rambling Wendy to Yomiko, who seemed to have gotten a gear stuck somewhere between astonishment and incredulous joy.

"You okay?" she asked, sitting on the bench next to her erstwhile partner.

"Didn't…didn't I just come to see you in the hospital a few weeks ago?"

"That was my…my 'little sister'."

Still teetering on the very edge of the bench, Wendy blinked in confusion.

"It was? But…ow," she finished plaintively, rubbing her head.

"Then it's you!" Yomiko was meanwhile exclaiming. "The first you!"

"Well, close enough," Nancy agreed, trying rather futilely to keep her balance while being tackle-hugged.

"How did you get back? Out of the rocket, I mean," Yomiko asked, releasing her.

"Yes," Wendy agreed. "Doesn't that sort of thing tend to be rather bad for one's health?"

Nancy looked nervously from side to side.

"Uh…um…well, uh…hey, look over there!"

While Wendy and Yomiko were peering curiously in the direction she had indicated, she darted from the park, into the nearest vehicle, and the next moment, the sound of a car roaring into motion and down the street filled the air.

Yomiko frowned.

"Did Nancy just run away and steal a cab?"

"It looks like she did," Wendy replied, squinting in the direction that she had run. A very angry cab driver was pacing furiously up and down the sidewalk.

"Oh," Yomiko nodded. "Okay."

Wendy sighed.

"Why do I get the horrible feeling that this won't be the silliest thing to happen today?"