Disclaimer: I STILL don't own shit. Except for Maria and Angel. So back off, punks!

A/N: Yeah, I know this fic sucks, despite a few good reviews (as opposed to no bad reviews, which, I guess, is progress…) because I never even worked out a plot in the first place. It's too long to be a ficlet, but the lack of plot deprives it of being a full-fledged fanfiction. I'll keep putting up the chappies as long as you guys keep reviewing, and constructive criticism is always welcome! Thanks for taking time out of your day to read this. Ho'kay, here goes!

Oh, and as a side note… To tell you guys the truth, I really feel left out in a whole section of fanfictions in which nearly every single one is slash. I mean, seriously, there's maybe… what, u two u other people in this whole Ultimate Muscle genre who wrote something about Kevin Mask in which he isn't homosexual. I'm really, really sorry to all of you Kevin/Croe supporters! Don't bash me, 'cause I bash back.

Holy shit, I'm really good at rambling… IN ANY CASE… LET'S BEGIN!

Monsieur Cheeks: "In ze last episode…"

Five minutes later, Kid Muscle, Wally, and Dik Dik looked up from a television program at the knocking sound on the door.

"…Let's get to ze bottom of eet!" leaps off

((A/N: Doesn't he annoy you? I don't like Mr. French, either. I mean, my Dad was French Canadian, so I don't really have anything agianst the country, just... those two annoy the crap out of me!))

Chapter 2: Old Friends and What Not

For a moment, it was silent, the only sound being the TV blaring loudly in front of them. The window of calm, however, was shattered by a muffled, "Hello?" from the other side of the door, a woman's voice, and a few more tentative knocks. Meat came running from the other room, muttering incoherently about the lazy bums sitting around watching TV.

With some difficulty, Kid Muscle's diminutive manager undid the locks to the door ((A/N: Don't even ask me how he did that… I mean, he'll manage to save Comrade Turbinsky from certain death by catching him with his bare hands at the end of the former's match with Kevin Mask, won't he? What challenge does a few simple apartment locks present to him? Well, they're only two feet above his head, I'd assume. Maybe he used a stepstool.)). Opening it, he discovered a very tall, very happy-looking young woman in a unitard looking curiously down at him.

"Ehh… Can I help you?" he inquired after a brief pause. Where had he seen this lady before? Before he could think on it any further, she was nodding with certainty and replying.

"Yeah… My name's Maria, I'm really sorry for just dropping by unexpectedly and all, but I just got off my plane… and I'm actually looking for a Terry Kenyon. He here?" When she spoke, he picked up a barely noticable southern lilt to her English, slightly different than the aforementioned Terry's. She also seemed a bit nervous.

Meat nodded hesitantly, and opened the door wider, gesturing for her to come in—In doing so, he noticed that a there were one or two suitcases lying beside the door, pushed out of the way. The tags read, in their bold, official-looking (yet slightly smudged) airline font, "WILLIAMS, MARIA." Now where did that name ring a bell? He must've seen her somewhere before.

The tall girl stepped inside and waved half-sheepishly at the wrestlers sitting on the couch, who stared at her. After a second or two, Wally waved, greeting her cheerfully, followed in suit by the others.

"Hey, Kid, go call Terry, wouldja?"

Mantaro groaned and started to get up, only to sit himself back down when the door to the bathroom opened, clouds of steam billowing out into the hallway. "Who's next?" The young Texan blinked and re-adjusted the towel around his waist as he stepped out of the bathroom, slightly stunned in equal measures by both the uncanny silence of his companions, and the presence of the unfamiliar young woman in their living room (she was still standing by the door, examining the room). Her bright green eyes seemed to scan the others first before landing on him.

She didn't say anything, but her body immediately tensed; her hands were noticeably white from clasping each other so hard. "Terry?"

"Um… D'I know you?" he asked, a mix of uncertainty and bewilderment written candidly across his Texan features. They all, including Maria, ignored the fact that he was still standing in the living room half-naked. She nodded slightly. "Yeah… It's been quite awhile… Years, actually, but since I was in town, I heard you were here and decided to stop by and see you after all this time. I'm Maria Williams. 'Member? Scrawny kid from Georgia?"

Terry stared for a moment longer, blinking in confusion.

"…Wait… Williams?" A wide grin spread across his face. "…Yeah… Yer mom and you used to come'n visit us..." He crossed his arms, a memory catching in his mindset. "And we used to do the craziest things... Like the time we stole the tractor... Yeah!" He grinned braodly-- It'd been a long time since he'd thought of that incident. "You've changed a lot."

"Not as much as you may think… " She replied, returning the grin, walking up and giving him a tight handshake.

A "clearing-the-throat-to-get-attention" sound caused Terry to look down, finding his gaze resting upon a very peeved-looking Meat. "I hate to interrupt your reunion, but you're making a big puddle in the middle of the living room." He said bluntly, pointing at the dark puddle of water in the blue carpet.

Terry looked down to examine it as a cheerful little ring tone went off simultaneously somewhere on Maria's person. She whipped the phone out from nowhere and checked who was calling (only to grimace when she saw that it was Angel's cell number, along with a text message). "Damn-fuckin'..." Her voice trailed off into an incoherent stream of mumbled curses, which she hoped had gone unheard. The femme wrestler paused before switching the phone off without answering the call. When she looked back up, Terry realized that she stood almost eye-to-eye level with him, much taller than he had presumed at first.

There was a pause, and she made a frustrated noise. "…Well, I guess I've gotta go anyways…" Her smile returned after a mere moment when she thought of something. Procuring a card from yet another seemingly invisible pocket, she handed it to him. "Gimme a call, we should get together sometime, 'kay?" Her features clearly showed that she was sorry to leave, but she leaned forward and gave him a friendly, one-armed hug. It was a bit awkward for Terry-- Hugs were not his customary farewell, as must be with her. He'd given hugs before, of course, but somehow, this time it was different. Perhaps it was the stray memory of them throwing rocks at each other at five years old.

As Maria walked to the door, she bid everyone adieu, her manner friendly and carefree now that she'd gotten over the semi-awkward parts—And, as quickly as she had come, she was gone. The pounding footsteps down the hall echoed loudly, as if she were running.

She was a strange one, but she was also just one of those people that you liked to be around.

Intermission!.

After Maria had quietly shut the door behind her, she let out an exhale full of worry. Normally, a call from her manager would be no big thing—This was an exception, a very big exception, because the text message Angel had sent her contained three letters: SOS. It was, to say the least, uncharacteristically distressing.

Quick as her body could, she seized her suitcases and headed down a level, depositing them in the lobby without a second thought for the safety of their contents.

Earlier, when she had just gotten out of the cab and was rejoicing her freedom, the streets had seemed so empty, with room enough for her to jump about as she pleased and do cartwheels. Now they looked bustling, and even from her exceptional height, people blocked the path to her friend. Angel had given no specific directions or even a mere hint at where she was—After all, if she were in trouble, she wouldn't have time to text much. Taking into account the fact that Angel was a technophobe, and that included a dislike of cell phones, Maria was surprised that she had even managed to turn the phone on.

She shouldered her way through the crowd quickly, dispersing a group of gossiping mothers holding infants here, pushing aside a mopey teenager; eventually a pathway was formed through the crowd. After all, pedestrians weren't fond of being shoved around by a tall, livid American woman in a hurry. There was only one big street in the area with but a few protruding dead-end alleys, but she made sure to check each of these before moving on.

Breaking free of the masses, she broke into a sprint, her long legs finally able to carry her with speed. Her heels skidded to a stop against the concrete of the sidewalk (leaving two long black skid marks along the pavement) as she came to an alley, hoping it was the place she was looking for— It was the last one before the street split into a four-way intersection. By this time, her breath was quicker, as she must have run several miles in a very small amount of time. "Angel!!? Hello?!" she called into the alleyway with an acid-laced tone of voice. Her eyes narrowed against the darkness as she took a few steps into it—A sudden movement to her right, and instinctively she pounced on it as a cat would a mouse. This cat's aim was off by a bit of a long-shot.

.Second Intermission!.

Angel sighed, dodging the younger woman's assail. "Not bad, Williams. Looks like you've gotten a little faster."

"…What?" Maria's voice rejoined from the darkness, dangerously low and suspicious.

"Did you hit your head when I wasn't looking? I said: you've gotten faster." The dark-haired mentor stepped out of the shadow of the brick wall and into the daylight, holding up an old-fashioned brass stopwatch.

"WHAT??!!!" Maria had to restrain herself from strangling her mentor. "You… You… You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack, you…" She restrained herself from letting out an exceptionally long string of curses. "…You u jerk! /u I thought you were in trouble!" One last look at the stopwatch. "And you I stole my stopwatch!!! /I " The redhead stepped out of the alley, pouting, arms folded. The conversation/argument continued as they walked back the way they came.

"I've found that people perform better with an incentive. When you've got something on the line, you work harder."

"Incentive my ass!" The young woman shouted. "What're you gonna do when you REALLY need my help?"

"I trust you'll keep responding my calls. After all, what if I really was in trouble?" The dark-haired woman's comeback was completely emotionless as she used Maria's own statement against her.

At this, Maria fell silent (but remained fuming), because her cohort had a point, and even if it was an incredibly bitchy and conceited one, it was very truthful. She could never let any harm come to her comrade… She was like the older sister she never had. It was only a few minutes before she calmed down ("Let's go get ice cream!"), all but forgetting the incident—It had, after all, been a little entertaining anyway. She was so cheerful that she even forgot about the luggage she had discarded in the lobby. Poor Maria probably wasn't going to have a change of knickers tomorrow.

.Last Intermission for this Chapter!.

People stared at Kevin as he strolled by. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to it; of course he was—He was a Chojin, an idol, a celebrity. People stared, fan girls and boys took pictures, and men bought him drinks at bars in unsuccessful attempts to start up a conversation… or whatever it was that strange men in bars bought wrestlers drinks for. In fact, the closest bar was where he was headed right now—He didn't know why, but his mind felt fatigued. With barely a glance at the bright neon sign—Its tawdry light annoyed him for no reason at all—he moseyed into a sports bar. At least, he assumed it was a sports bar. It really didn't matter at the moment.

The young Brit found himself surrounded by few other customers, all of whom were seated at the far ends of the bar. It was quite early in the evening to be getting a bunch of customers, anyway, so that wasn't unusual… Maybe he'd be gone by the time the mass swarms of middle-aged men arrived after their work day to spend their wages on booze and bets. Vaguely, he wished that Croe was here, as it was nice to have somebody to talk to sometimes, lone wolf he was. Unfortunately, the older man had insisted that he was not in the mood to go out anyplace, but to give him a call if he needed anything. Kevin sat down at a far table with his back to the wall.

"So, hot stuff, what can I get you tonight?" The brisk voice came from somewhere by his shoulder, and he didn't bother to look at the speaker.

"Just… whatever." He muttered.

There was a slight pause before the response, as if the waitress was thinking about something. "Alrighty, then, one tequila with sugar on the rim coming right up, hon!" Brisk steps marked the leave of the woman.

Oh, God. Maybe he should have been more specific. Sighing, he buried his head in his arms.

A/N: …And here I have ended the chapter. I'm sorry, I know you guys asked for longer ones, but five pages is my limit when it comes to leisure writing. Plus, reading it over, I've found that it's rather vague and fast-paced… Pathetic, I know, but at least I made an attempt… And this whole chapter was very, very pointless. I'm starting to think of just abandoning the whole thing… After all, who the hell's gonna like it if it doesn't have yaoi in it? Update: I've rewritten some of the stuff, changing the mary-sue ish parts (or trying to), and correcting some bad cases of sentence structure. I hope it's a little better now.