Comments: Thanks to dolphinology for expressing interest. This first chapter should offer some exposition into what's going on.

Please don't be scared off by the amount of original characters in this; they're needed in the beginning, but can take a backseat to those we really care about once things get going.

When Even Hindsight is Clouded

Chapter One: Life's Only Certainty is Change

---Santa Monica, California---

It really was ironic, the way life usually worked itself out. Always wanting to kick you when you were at your finest hour. As if someone took some kind of sick, twisted pleasure in watching people plummet from a soaring high into the proverbial abyss.

Oh yes, Carson Redford certainly understood that cynical philosophy. In fact, he lived it. His life had been a roller coaster of exhilarating ups, quickly followed by devastating downs. Whenever something good happened, a horrible blow would be dealt to him, leaving him reeling in its quake. But this wasn't really about life in general. Rather, it was one particularly harsh blow dealt to him over two years ago that found the former professional detective on a very personal case.

Those that say it is better to have loved and lost have probably never been in love. Because Carson had loved, loved more intensely than he ever had before, only to have his love stolen away from him.

The memory was forever burned into his conscience. He had tried to stop her, tried to tell her this particular scoop was much too dangerous. But she wouldn't listen, and that tenacity could certainly be considered an asset in her line of work. Whether her eyes were steadily fixed on a promotion, personal glory, or just trying to do right, she refused to lose her focus. After years of careful investigation, she had gathered enough to mount her final campaign. She would bust the Ring. And he would be there to help.

The Ring…that damned organization and every one of its members needed to be treated to a slow roast in the fires of hell as far as Carson was concerned. He didn't understand why the Ring hadn't already fallen flat on its face. Assassins were treacherous by nature, and expecting mass loyalty seemed foolhardy at best. But those bastards running the Ring of Fire had somehow spun a web of the world's best assassins into their hands, dangling bloodthirsty villains like wooden puppets to do their bidding.

He'd give them their due: they were damn resourceful. Resourceful enough to realize a certain couple was hot on their trail, and the fairer half was about to expose them to the world. Resourceful enough to track that couple down to a cheap motel neighboring a Shell station. Resourceful enough to send an agent to kill her while he stepped out for a midnight snack.

"Guilt runs freely in the consciences of the damned…" He could hope against hope that those monsters felt some remorse for what they had done, but ultimately, he knew he was kidding himself. One hundred percent of the emotional strain and guilt over her death lay heavily on his heart. If only he had stopped her from digging too deep, stopped her from overstepping her bounds. They should have proceeded more slowly, gotten more people involved. But she wanted this to be their best-kept secret – not that they didn't have plenty already.

So he had let her have her way, and ultimately, it had cost her her life, and him whatever part of his life was worth living. Only the drive to complete their final mission, to see her vision through, had kept him going. And now, in yet another cheap motel, and after years of dedication, exhaustion, and an innumerable amount of tears, he was ready. Those sons of bitches at the Ring would never know what hit 'em.

A creak just outside his room jerked his attention to the window. Pale green eyes stared attentively at the branches of a tree outside, watching for any indication of movement. A breeze passed by, ruffling the leaves, causing the shutter of the window to move back and forth, creaking. A sigh escaped from his lips and he closed his eyes in relief. That was it. A breeze causing the shutter to creak back and forth. Nothing more.

Carson took a deep breath to calm his nerves before sliding a discrete black suitcase out from under the bed. Opening it, he sifted through its contents. Photographs, notes, vital phone numbers. Glancing at the clock, he decided it would be best to catch some shut-eye before picking up his cell phone and putting the final elements of his plan into action. Stripping off his shirt and shedding his khakis, he threw the discarded clothes onto the floor before moving to climb into bed.

Creak. There it was again. Stealing a glance at the window, he bit his lip when he saw the leaves still, undisturbed. What had caused that? He scanned the room, searching for a hidden figure, an unidentified shadow, anything…

Nothing.

Of course there was nothing. What was he expecting to see? Monsters under the bed? A tiny bartender in the mini bar perhaps?

Carson laughed. He was letting his active imagination turn into thoughts of paranoia. No one was here. But just to make sure, he moved to close the window completely, jumping at the soft sounds of the stepping of his own feet all the way. He shook his head. This was past paranoid. This was bordering on insanity.

A flash in the back of the room caught his attention. Glancing at the back wall, he barely saw the shadow dart across the room. His heart rate quickened. This wasn't paranoia. Someone was here…

Slowly getting up, he cast a deliberate glare around the room. His eyes stopped on his reflection in the mirror. Carson saw something in his eyes that he hadn't seen in years. Fear. Honest to God, paralyzing fear. He took a deep breath. Calm down. Don't jump to any conclusions. Just slowly, make your way towards the door…

His fingers grazed against the cool metal of the doorknob. Keeping his eyes glued to the interior of the room, he slowly slid the lock out of place and turned the knob. He then pushed his body against the oak slab and braced for the swing.

Problem was, the swing refused to come.

Eyes widening, Carson pushed his weight even more forcefully against the wooden door. It didn't budge. A barely audible whisper was uttered. "No…"

The shadow. He saw it again. It was there. A dark figure darting from corner to corner of the room. Slowly, deliberately coming closer. Footfalls gaining volume. Shallow breathing becoming more and more audible. He wasn't imagining this. This was real. They were here. They knew.

In times of life-threatening danger, one's body usually released endorphins to energize a possible escape. But for Carson, that did not happen. Defeated, he slumped to the floor, the overwhelming recognition of his fate causing numbness in his brain. He couldn't escape. No one escaped. His sharp ears picked up another near silent footstep. Tired green eyes that reflected defeat looked up…and locked with another's.

One ragged breath cut through eerie silence. Green orbs stared intently into brown ones before focusing out over the entire image. So this is what death looked like. The cliché black-hooded executioner had morphed and taken the form of a woman. One that Carson would consider especially beautiful had the circumstances been different. Jet-black locks framed a round, cold, face that stared him down with a chilling indifference. Idly, he wondered why she didn't bother with a mask, before realizing anyone that saw her face was most likely resting in the company of maggots.

A small, bitter smile came over Carson's face. "I went too far, didn't I?"

A cool stare greeted him before the angel in devil's clothing unsheathed a light katana.

Nodding, the detective resigned himself to his fate. "I understand."

"Bon," came the husky reply as the searing kiss of cool steel graced his skin, "because I was never one for lengthy explanations."

---Cambridge, Massachusetts---

Jonah Levine moved a strand of sweaty hair out of his face before folding a sheet of notepaper into a makeshift fan. The combination of the broken air-conditioning and the packed MIT lecture hall made for an almost unbearably stuffy atmosphere. Many would not even bother staying were it not for the keynote speaker of the American Association for Artificial Intelligence's annual symposium.

The aforementioned speaker was currently in the midst of a demonstration that held every occupant in the room captivated. After all, it wasn't every day that one got to witness history in the making with one of the world's leading experts on artificial intelligence. Jonah was certainly willing to count his blessings, as it had taken quite a bit of sweet-talking for the infamously headstrong young robotist to procure admission to the exclusive event.

An off-stage rustling could be heard, causing speculative titters to run through the crowd, intensifying as a streamlined yellow robot glided out onto the stage.

"As you can see through my little friend here," a voice swept through the sound system, "quite a bit of progress has been made in the past year."

An approving murmur started up, quieting only when the man they had all traveled to see began speaking again. "Increased grace and a more aesthetically pleasing look aren't the only recent upgrades," the speaker began, pressing a few buttons on a small remote control. The robot's lower limbs suddenly disappeared out from under him to be replaced by a rolling tread similar to those found on the bottom of tanks. "As you can see, the head and upper body also fold neatly downwards, compressing into a adaptable tight-knit unit capable of squeezing through small spaces, only to pop back out again once he's done." Several presses of a button later, the bot morphed back to normal, save for the remaining tire tread. "The alternate treads offer unmatched versatility, whether over rocky, uneven terrain or a slick steel floor." He paused, smiling a bit. "Why don't you show them, NIGEL?"

A blinking red light and slight whirring indicated the bot's comprehension as the rough tread was swapped for small, smooth wheels. "I'd be happy to," a tinny, robotic voice hummed over the speakers. "Or should I be expecting a wintry expedition?" it asked as runners appeared to replace the wheels. The combination of mechanical adjustments and a leap forward in the actual AI caused a furious scribbling of notes and excited whispers among the crowd.

"Dr. Craven?"

The robotist looked up, surprise written across his face. It was customary to leave questions for the end of a speaker's presentation.

But Jonah wasn't one for following old customs, and he certainly wasn't a patient man either. Besides, this question was important, and he didn't want it to get lost in a sea of insignificant babbling. "The increased versatility is most impressive. What kinds of practical applications do you see for this?"

Mendel Craven framed his answer carefully, as 'I'm not sure of the practical applications yet, considering the price tag' was not what could be called an acceptable answer. "Well obviously NIGEL is still a test-subject, but duplicates could eventually be used for a variety of purposes, ranging from rescue teams to research expeditions to-"

"Mutant chasing?" Jonah offered.

The blond was visibly taken aback. "Um, well, I suppose…" he stammered, before somewhat regaining his composure. "Though keeping a lid on the 'mutant problem' has been left in very capable hands with our government," he finished, his conscience raging at him for suppressing his rather strong opinions on the matter.

"The most capable?" Jonah pressed on. "I'm sure aid from a robot as extraordinary as your boy here would help."

"That isn't really what NIGEL is-"

"Designed to do?" the younger man interrupted, smirking slightly. "Sure didn't stop you from turning him into your little shadow while you were on your little mutant adventures with a Dr. Niko Tatopoulos, and if I recall correctly, a Dr. Elsie Chapman as well." Jonah paused. "How're they doing anyway? Heard from them lately?"

Only Jonah noticed the slight wince come across Mendel's features. "I haven't stayed in touch with my former colleagues, nor do I have any intention of doing so." He bit his lip as one especially glaring exception screamed in his mind. "My adventure days, as you called them, ended years ago."

Jonah smiled enigmatically before conceding a temporary defeat. "Fair enough," he replied before taking his seat.

Mendel curtly nodded before returning to his presentation, doing his best to disguise how flustered he had suddenly become. "Well then," he began weakly, addressing the now curious, gossiping crowd as a whole, "this seems as good a time as any for an intermission." Never mind that the opening session of the symposium had only been underway for an hour. "I'm looking forward to continuing my presentation, and answering any relevant questions after the break."

'My question was relevant,' Jonah mused, an infamously irritating smirk once again plastered on his face. Rising along with the rest of the audience, he bypassed the packed pathway to the exits and instead made a beeline to the stage. "Dr. Craven, I must say, that was one of the most illuminating conservations I've ever had at one of these stuffy old clubhouse gatherings."

"Wonderful," Mendel shot back, annoyance no longer hidden under the guise of professionalism. "But would you mind warning me the next time you decide to humiliate me in front of my most respected colleagues?"

"Aw, I didn't humiliate you," Jonah replied, grinning widely. "They'll be talking about this all through your conveniently-timed intermission."

The blond groaned. "That's what I was afraid of."

The younger robotist looked at him thoughtfully. "Is that all you're afraid of?"

Mendel blinked as he fished through a bag for allergy medication. "You're my psychiatrist now?"

"Well no," Jonah answered. "More like a recruiter."

"If this is about working for one of the government's little petting zoos, then you can forget it."

"You wound me, Doctor," Jonah replied with a histrionic flair. "Really, do you think I'd stoop to that level?"

Mendel stared at him. "Yes…"

Rolling his eyes, Jonah continued. "Well you're not 100 wrong; more like 99 or so."

Mendel shrugged, clearly uninterested. "Ok," he said before turning to tend to the yellow bot that had rolled itself over towards the two men.

Scowling in frustration, Jonah bent slightly over the now kneeling robotist. "I take it you realize my question had some ulterior motives."

"I figured as much," Mendel sighed before turning yet again to face him. "And?"

The corners of Jonah's lips turned upwards. "I have a proposition for you."

---Roswell, New Mexico---

The unseasonably intense New Mexican sun showed no sign of halting its relentless attack as a two-ton chameleon changed its hide to match the golden-orange backdrop of the desert landscape. A standard defense mechanism; however, the young mutant had little to fear in its current habitat. Little to fear, that is, besides the uncomfortable probing of an ever-curious scientific mind.

Blue eyes squinted at the seemingly homogenous vision laid out in front of them, seeking a tell-tale outline to betray the newest addition to the base's collection of specimens. Finding it at last, the blonde researcher approached at a casual, yet deliberate pace. "Easy there," she whispered once she realized her target had caught sight of her. "I'm not here to hurt you."

The chameleon squinted before backing up into a nearby rock formation. Once it found its retreat halted, it switched gears and decided to hiss at the intruder instead.

"Someone's grumpy today," Candace muttered, crouching down so that she'd be at eye level with the low-lying mutant. Fingering an exceptionally sharp needle tucked away in her jacket, she debated the use of her last resort. The animal no doubt recognized the instrument by now, and if she were lucky, would flee at first sight. If she were unlucky, she might gain first-hand insight into the aggression patterns of mutated reptiles. Not that she didn't already have plenty.

Summoning her best 'comfort' voice, she once again spoke soothingly to the frightened beast. "I know all of this is new and scary, but we just want to take you inside so we can have a look at you." Her eyes trailed down the length of its torso, frowning when they traced over an ugly scar running across its belly. "We also want to see if we can figure out what did that to you," she explained, gesturing vaguely to its underside.

The chameleon blinked curiously at the somewhat familiar stranger. It knew it had seen her before, yet could not recall whether the creature standing in front of it was hostile or friendly. Its stance was non-threatening enough, and it seemed to respect the implied buffer zone it had established. Perhaps trusting the yellow-headed female would not be so dangerous.

Two gold eyebrows shot up as the chameleon slowly eased its way off the support of neighboring rocks and towards what would normally be considered an intruder on its newly adopted territory. 'That was quicker than usual,' Candace mused, silently thanking whatever higher power existed for her good luck.

But like most things in life, luck was not permanent, and a booming voice over an outdoor loudspeaker zipped up her current reserve of good fortune. "Dr. Kirk, you have a…visitor, of sorts."

An all-too familiar second voice chimed in. "Visitor? Yo Candy, tell this new caffeine jockey of your's that I'm way more than that."

The progress Candace had made in turning the chameleon's mood vanished as it stiffened and scampered away, terrified by the unexpected clamor. Cursing under her breath, she squeezed the upper bridge of her nose in an attempt to mitigate the onset of a sudden headache. "Four years, Hernandez…four years, and I still don't know what to do with you."

"Oh I wouldn't say that," someone murmured above her ear. "You did just fine last night…"

Candy swatted her surprise guest away before rising and brushing off her shorts. "In two seconds, you just managed to ruin three days of work."

Randy Hernandez awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Really? That a new record?"

Rolling her eyes, the researcher brushed past her husband and into the mutant conservatory. "I've spent days trying to get our newest addition comfortable enough with me to come out of hiding. And I was finally there, before someone opened his big mouth and blew it."

Ignoring the reprimand, Randy dutifully followed her inside. "Newest addition? You mean the raptor?" he asked, referring to a specimen that looked as if it had been yanked from a Hollywood dinosaur flick.

Candy shook her head. "No, the chameleon."

Recognition flitted across the former hacker's features. "You haven't named him yet?"

"He's only been here for a few days," Candy replied as she bent over a sink to wash her hands. "Besides, Dr. Connors says it's better to refer to them by their classification code…keeps us from getting attached."

"Where's the fun in that?" came the playful reply.

"This isn't supposed to be fun," Candy said pointedly. "I'm here to study and rehabilitate these creatures, not adop-er, make pets out of them," she quickly finished.

If Randy had caught her slip of tongue, he chose to ignore it. "I know, I know. Just trying to spice things up around here."

"You did enough of that with that PA-stunt," she retorted. "I can only hope you didn't traumatize poor Linda."

"I'm sure she's fine," he answered, before smiling mischievously. "Though she's probably questioning your taste in men…"

The blonde threw up her hands in mock exasperation. "As if I needed more of a reason for people to think I'm crazy, I went and married you."

Randy circled her waist with his arms before drawing her to him. "It may have been crazy, but it doesn't seem like you regret it," he retorted softly.

Resting her forehead against his, Candy sighed. "No, I don't suppose I do." A glance at a nearby clock set off a sudden suspicion. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be at work?"

The younger man released her before laughing sheepishly. "Um, yeah. About that…"

Their previous romantic moment forgotten, Candy fixed him with a sharp stare. "What did you do?"

"Nothing illegal."

"Oh that's so reassuring," the blonde replied, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, don't worry about it, ok?" Randy attempted to reassure her. "I just took a half-day. Clued the Niedermeister's secretary in before I did it too."

"Why'd you leave early?" Candy asked, suspicions slightly lessened, but not yet fully gone.

"I wanted to see you?" Randy offered. The look on his wife's face could only be interpreted as 'Nice try.' Sighing, he finally confessed. "I had to make a break for it. I had this gut feeling Mr. Niedermeyer was going to make me work this weekend."

Candace shook her head. "You can't keep running away from him, no matter how much he may resemble the boss from hell."

"Yeah I know," Randy replied, expression thoughtful. "I just couldn't stand the thought of spending more time there than absolutely necessary. That entire office building must've fallen out of Satan's ass."

"Funny, I'm having trouble recalling a recent job that you've actually liked," Candy said as she began a short trek down a silver-lined hallway.

"None of them were this bad," Randy claimed as he followed her once again. "Mr. Niedermeyer is beyond evil. I'm thinking he used to be one of your little pet projects at you-know-where, before some rogue labrat disguised him as a human."

Candy rolled her eyes. "Haven't you said that about all your bosses?"

The sudden quietness that ensued startled her a bit, before she realized her mistake. The blonde bit her lip. "Look, Randy, I didn't mean to-"

"I know," he replied, shaking off her concern. Within a millisecond his normally sunny disposition had returned. "Enough talk about me and my exciting journey through the corporate rat-race," the software engineer piped up. "Tell me about your day with Chemo."

"Chemo?" Candace asked, expression quizzical.

"The new guy. Chemo, Chamo, same sort of thing."

Candy laughed incredulously. "You can't honestly believe I'd name him after cancer therapy?"

"Ok, so my naming sucks," Randy acknowledged, laughing as well. "But still, whatever it you did here has got to be ten times better than clacking out so much useless code I should've gotten carpal tunnel about five times by now."

Expression softening, Candace decided to indulge him. "Alright, we'll go get some coffee." She checked her watch. "But I do have to be back at the place that shall not be named in fifteen minutes."

"Great!" Randy enthused, "I'm buying!" He paused to pull out his wallet and shift through its contents, before bashfully raising his eyes to meet her's. "Um…"

"What?"

"You got ten bucks I could borrow?"

---Argentina---

Paradoxically distracted by the sheer monotony of her work, Kim Basset inadvertently smudged caked dirt across her face in an attempt to wipe her brow. Groaning, she peeled off her gloves and got up to check on her colleagues' progress. Two days of digging through dirt and cracking through rock, and she hadn't even found a primordial tooth. The South American nation had served for a great number of paleontological finds in the past, but unfortunately, seemed to have dried up.

"Anything?" she asked a nearby digger.

"Nothing yet," came the deflated reply. Her team leader finally stood to stretch, arching her back to ease the tension that had built up.

Kim joined her, relieved to finally begin what appeared to be a break. "Ready to call this whole thing a bust?"

"We should give it more time," the other paleontologist replied. "This excavation site is huge. We could have easily missed something."

Sighing, Kim couldn't help but agree. She hadn't given the dig nearly enough time to be considered thorough. But taking into account the last three digs her team had also come up with absolutely nothing, her spirits couldn't help but lower.

"Let's take a fifteen minute break," her companion announced. "I think we could all use some shade."

"A break sounds great," Kim enthused, "I can't help but-"

"Dr. Chapman, Dr. Basset!" an urgent voice suddenly cut her off. "Come quick! I found something!"

Elsie Chapman sighed as she moved to join the anxious grad student. "What's got you so excited Jimmy? Find a buried Playboy?"

"Haha," James Tolliver replied dryly. "If you're going to be so mean to me, then I may have to reconsider letting you in on my big discovery."

Elsie started to reply when Kim's actions interrupted her. "Move Jimmy," the blonde huffed, shoving the younger man out of her way. Kim was tired, sweaty, and cranky, and there was no way she was letting some hotshot twenty-something get the best of her.

The redhead muffled a laugh. "What's he got, Kim?"

"Something actually worthwhile," she replied, surprise evident in her tone. Picking up a brush, she swept away some remnants of dirt covering the embedded skull. "Those teeth obviously indicate a carnivore." She squinted at the visible portions of the skull. "I can't see the entire head, but I'm thinking Carnotaurus."

"Like the Zodiac sign?" Jimmy asked, confused.

"No, Jimbo," Elsie replied, rolling her eyes as she bent down next to Kim. "The old Ford."

The raven-haired man frowned. "It wasn't that stupid a question."

Biting her lip as she let that jem of an opening go by, Elsie focused her attention on more important matters; namely, the new discovery. Carnotaurus fossils were pretty rare, with only one complete skeleton recovered in the entire world. "Go make yourself useful and send word of this to Dr. Lambert," Elsie ordered.

Growling something about how he never got to do anything fun, Jimmy nonetheless complied.

"It's pretty solidly embedded in this rock," Kim observed. "What say we get one of the guys to chip a big chunk out, and excavate the skeleton later?"

Elsie nodded. "That's as good a plan as any." She turned back towards their makeshift camp. "Alberto! Caesar! Get over here!"

The twin Latin American paleontologists jogged over and got to work once their boss explained their task. Satisfied, Elsie rose and walked over to their main tent to wash her hands. Kim followed her, glancing back at the find every few steps. "Nice to know this one wasn't a bust."

Elsie smiled slightly in agreement. "We'll find out how little of a bust it was once the guys get that rock chipped away. Until then, we could go work on the opposite side of the site."

"Or…" Kim offered, slightly panicked at the thought of their small break cut short, "we could have girl-talk."

"You've known me long enough to know I don't do girl-talk Kimmy," Elsie replied, snorting slightly.

"Gossip then?"

The redhead sighed before waving her hands noncommittally. "Knock yourself out."

Squealing in delight at the prospect of her not-so-repressed adolescent tendencies being indulged, Kim racked her brain for an especially juicy tidbit. "You know, a certain brunette we all know and love got caught in a broom closet in a rather, how shall I put it, comprising position."

Though she initially planned on ignoring her friend's chatter, Elsie's interest was suddenly piqued. "Holly?" she asked, referring to another prominent behavioral paleontologist that happened to be a professional rival, as well as, in Elsie's opinion, a grade-A bitch.

Beaming, Kim nodded. "Yup. Little Miss Too-smart-for-Harvard bolted before she even smoothed her skirt."

Elsie laughed. "Who was the unlucky guy?"

Kim froze, realization creeping up on her. "Um, nobody," she stammered, hoping Elsie would drop it.

The perceptive scientist, however, wasn't fooled. Studying her friend's face for a moment, she finally said, "It's Lex, isn't it?"

Smiling apologetically, Kim nodded. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have brought it up."

Snorting, Elsie waved off her apology. "My biggest rival and my ex-husband together…I'm thrilled."

"You are?" Jimmy asked, returning from the communications tent.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Elsie asked. "Trust me, they of all people deserve each other."

Jimmy shrugged. "Well yeah, but I thought you might be kind of upset, seeing as we haven't seen you with a gu-OW!" he cried as Kim stomped soundly on his foot.

"If you know what's good for you kid," she threatened, "you'll get back to work." After the grad student sheepishly obeyed, Kim turned back to Elsie. "You ok?"

"I don't know," came the defeated reply. "It's been close to two years and all, and I definitely don't still have feelings for him…"

"But it just sucks seeing him with her, right?" Kim finished for her.

"Right. It's not because my love life is currently deader than Ben Affleck's career," she quickly replied.

"Well if you're going to be so optimistic about it…" Kim chuckled. "What about one of our Latino dreams over there?" she suggested, gesturing towards the current find.

Elsie quirked an eyebrow. "Bit young for me, don't you think?"

"If I recall correctly you've always had an interest in younger men," Kim retorted.

Shaking her head at both the references Kim had and hadn't intended to make, Elsie only said, "Word of advice: stick to paleontology. You're horrible when it comes to…" she trailed off as the sound of Jimmy's babbling once again made itself audible. "What now?" she groaned.

The young man peeked into the large tent. "Turn to channel seven."

"There's no TV in here," Elsie answered, maintaining an air of boredom.

"Well then come on," Jimmy said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the communications tent. Gesturing to the TV, he commented, "Creepy, isn't it? Over thirty people have died and they still don't have a clue as to what the thing is."

Elsie squinted at screen. "Costa Rica?"

Kim nodded. "I've heard about this. Some sneaky mutant bastard's been chomping on villagers after dark."

Only the sound of the on-air reporter could be heard for a moment, until Elsie broke the pseudo-silence. "That's too bad."

"Well?" Jimmy asked, regarding the quick-witted woman expectantly.

"Well what?" she responded.

"What is it?"

Elsie shrugged. "How should I know?"

"You used to work on this sort of thing for a living, didn't you?" he asked, confused.

"Keywords: used to," Elsie replied. "That's none of my business now."

Raising an eyebrow, Kim inquired, "You think the national governments are doing a good job?"

"No," Elsie said, "but a lot of other people who have no interest in this agree with me."

Jimmy was quiet for a second. "So you really don't want to get involved that sort of thing again?"

"No more than the average person," Elsie shrugged. "Why?"

Biting his lip, Jimmy's eyes trailed to a nearby table. "Well then you're not going to like the fax we just got…"

---Gulf of Mexico---

The steady hum of the plane was in the process of lulling many of its occupants to sleep, which in Kelly Marsen's opinion, was not such a bad idea. The search for el monstruo had once again ended fruitless, leaving the participants completely and utterly exhausted. Whatever the predator was, it had become a master at discreetly picking off victims, only to leave chewed up leftovers on the beach before absconding without a trace. The International Taskforce for Control of the Mutant Population, fondly nicknamed the M-Force by a few of the younger agents, had spent countless hours in Costa Rica, attempting to solve the mystery of the mutant carnivore.

For all their work, they had very little to show. Common sense told them the creature was nocturnal, as it only fed at night. The attacks were spaced irregularly, occurring two days to two weeks apart. The Costa Rican government was having a fit, as not only was its population being picked off as a tasty meal, but its tourism industry was all but dead. It went without saying that residents, let alone visitors, were reluctant to spend the night near the beach.

A fellow agent with wavy, dark brown hair collapsed into the seat next to her. "I'm beat. Is it too late to quit the force?"

The African-American smiled good-naturedly. "No, but don't be discouraged. Think of how rewarding it is to know you make a difference in the lives of people around the world."

"I'm starting to wonder if we actually make a difference," Tatiyana Petrova lamented, blowing an errant strand of hair out of her face. "Muties have been popping up faster than the M-Force can handle them."

Kelly shook her head. "Just because we're on a tight schedule doesn't mean it's that way for everyone." She jerked her head in the direction a closed cabin. "After all, we've got them."

The corners of the Russian woman's lips curved upwards. "Think they're fighting again?"

"Hicks yelled at some little Costa Rican kid," Kelly responded. "Though I doubt anything like that is the real reason they've been biting each other's heads off lately."

"Wanna listen?" Tatiyana suggested, eyes glowing mischievously.

Eyes widening, Kelly looked like she had just suggested they plant a bomb at the base of the cabin door. "We have to respect their privacy."

"Right, right," the brunette sighed. "You're too much of, how do you say, a 'goody-goody.'"

"I just have manners is all," Kelly began as the door to the adjacent cabin opened.

"I'm sorry you don't feel this is quite urgent enough Major," a voice hissed. "I guess we'll talk when the death toll rolls over fifty." The voice's owner appeared in the doorway before sliding the cabin door shut and sinking into a nearby plane seat.

"Ooh," Tatiyana murmured. "Called him 'Major.' He's mad."

Discreetly fixing her eyes on the figure that was now hunched over a laptop, Kelly nodded. "He probably has reason to be."

Tatiyana leaned back into her seat, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the other woman's statement. Instead, she smirked impishly at her. "Go cheer him up."

For the twentieth time that month, the thirty-year-old was thankful her caramel complexion did not betray too much of a blush. "No, I…I think he wants to be left alone."

Huffing in exasperation, Tatiyana fixed her friend with a pointed stare. "I'm not telling you to go jump in his lap, I'm telling you to just say hi."

"We've said hi," Kelly said lamely.

"You know what I mean," the Russian replied, before pausing. "He likes you, you know."

"Really? Wait, what-"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Tatiyana interrupted. "You act like it's the end of the world, but on almost every flight you get up and spend at least twenty minutes in the seat next to his."

Kelly bit her lip. "We're just talking."

"And talking's a start…" Tatiyana trailed off, making it clear that she wouldn't let up.

Groaning, Kelly relented. "Alright, alright, I'll do it. Just stop bugging me." She got up to seemingly stretch her legs for a good five minutes, until a solid smack from Tatiyana forced her to finally make her way down the aisle to her final destination. Clearing her throat, she managed a modest "Hey, Nick."

Nick Tatopoulos glanced up from his computer screen. "Hi Kel. What's up?"

"Not much," she replied, awkwardly scratching the back of her leg with her foot. Though she had been gifted with exceptional intelligence and athleticism, she found herself lacking when it came to social graces. "Um…"

Staring at her for a moment, a look of realization dawned on Nick's face. "Did you want to sit down?"

"Yeah, that'd be good," came the grateful reply, as Kelly hadn't planned exactly how she wanted this to go.

Nick picked his laptop up and scooted down one seat, allowing his colleague to ease herself into the aisle seat. Allowing her a moment to settle in, he pressed on. "So what's going on?"

"Nothing much with me," Kelly replied. "What about you? You and Hicks didn't seem to be having a friendly chat in there."

"Was it that obvious?" Nick asked wearily.

A mute nod was his only reply.

"Well, we're not the best of friends right now," he began, choosing his words carefully, as he didn't want to inadvertently start any wild rumors. "I mean, we can still work together and all, but lately we just haven't been seeing eye to eye on a lot of things."

Kelly nodded. "That's understandable. After working with someone for so long, there's bound to be conflict."

Laughing, Nick replied, "Trust me, this whole 'conflict' thing with Hicks and me is nothing new."

"Right," Kelly agreed, though she didn't know all that much about whatever history existed between the two men. Deciding against pressing the issue further, she changed the subject. "What are you working on?"

"Just looking over some photos of the Costa Rican site," he answered, turning the laptop slightly so she could see. He pressed the right-arrow a few times. "Also looking over some shots locals managed to get of our friend."

A dark, shadowy figure could be seen among moist vegetation. Kelly scrutinized the picture carefully. "Is it flying?"

"Maybe," Nick cautiously said. "We can't be sure it's not just temporarily airborne."

Kelly leaned closer to the screen before turning back towards Nick. "Are you going back anytime soon?"

"Apparently not," he muttered, clearly unhappy. "The higher-ups have some other business they want me to attend to."

"You're technically not a part of the force though," Kelly offered. "Couldn't you tell them to buzz off?"

"I wouldn't say I'm not a part of it," Nick clarified. "True I'm not a full-fledged agent, but I've spent so much time working with the force that it wouldn't make sense to say I'm totally independent."

"Did you used to be?"

Nick was quiet for a moment. "Well, not really. I never worked solo. But yes, there was a time when I didn't answer to generals, heads of state, and god-knows-who-else."

"You don't have to," Kelly said softly.

"I do," Nick gently replied. "Or at least, I have to if I want to have any influence on the world's mutant-related actions and policies."

Kelly nodded. She could respect that. Fingering one of her braids, she glanced over at Nick. "I heard you're not being dropped off at the same place we are. Where are you headed?"

"I have a…business meeting of sorts in New York," Nick answered. "With one of our biggest corporate sponsors. After that, I'm supposedly off to eastern Germany, where an overgrown tomcat has been wreaking havoc. But before I go to either of those, I thought I'd pay someone a visit…" he trailed off. Unconsciously, he ran his thumb over a gold band on his ring finger.

The act didn't go unnoticed by Kelly. "You miss her, don't you?"

Remaining silent for a minute, he finally managed an honest answer. "I don't think I'll ever stop missing her."

Letting out a small, bitter laugh, Kelly seemed to deflate. "Right." She fidgeted for a moment before getting up. "Well, I've bothered you enough for one flight."

"You don't have to-" Nick began, feeling guilty for making her feel uncomfortable.

"I think it's best I did," Kelly replied quietly before making her way back to her seat.

Nick watched Kelly hurriedly make herself scarce before sighing. He didn't mean to push her away like that. Heck, he didn't even realize he was pushing her away, as for the longest time he hadn't been aware that Kelly's interest in him went beyond 'friendly.'

Apparently, however, it did, and Kelly's reaction erased any lingering doubts in Nick's mind. His eyes dropped down to the gold band guilty for the awkward moment. One that more than a few people had told him he should take off. It wasn't that he hadn't tried; he just didn't feel right without it on. Almost like he was insulting her memory by removing it.

But would really be an insult? If he had been the one to meet an untimely end, as was quite possible given his line of work, he'd certainly want her to move on. And in spite of himself, a little voice in the back of his head told him she'd have absolutely no problem doing so. They always did view their relationship differently. It was almost a role-reversal of sorts, with him pushing for commitment while she preferred to first treat herself to all life offered. After years of a dizzy, tangled courtship, however, they had finally settled down, or at least as much as their jobs allowed them.

Not that they'd had a lot of time to enjoy it. Only two years, seven months, and 14 days – but who was counting? Nick chuckled softly at himself. She'd been gone for nearly as long as they'd been married. Perhaps it was time to finally slid the ring off his finger and find someone new.

His eyes inadvertently wandered to the dark-haired agent down the aisle. Kelly was nice. Smart. Pretty. Athletic. A relationship with her would surely be…well…

Convenient.

"Dr. Tatopoulos?" A timid voice interrupted his thoughts.

Shaking his head, Nick mentally scolded himself. He didn't have time to think about that sort of thing right now, especially considering new mutants had been popping up faster than even their international taskforce could keep up with. "Yes?"

"I'm Rich Reynolds," the young agent responded. "I'm supposed to accompany you to New York."

"Of course," Nick said, shaking his hand before gesturing to the neighboring seat. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" he offered, before opening up a few files on his laptop. "Did you hear from the new tech expert yet?"

"No sir," Rich answered. "But he should be en route to New York as we speak, and if all goes well, will meet us there."

"Great," came the distracted reply as Nick poured over lines of text on his computer screen. "What was his name again? Jonah Ravine?"

"Levine," Rich corrected. "Supposedly brilliant, but not the easiest guy to work with."

A soft chuckle escaped the older man's lips. "You think some hotshot tech-head is hard to work with," he began, eyeing his temporary partner sympathetically, "just wait till our meeting at Solstice Technologies."

---End Chapter One---

Hmm, a little less confusing now? In case anyone's wondering about pairings, well no one will get divorced over the course of the fic, so that should make one couple clear. Other than that…we'll see. ;-) And just where is Godzilla? That'll be explained next chapter. Review please – your comments motivate me to keep going.