Summary: Ralph's simple act of kindness causes the suit to deal with an alien situation of its own. Not only that, an enemy organization has plans of its own. Rated T for some violence. Set after "The Newlywed Game." Chiastolite and Malachite are names of gemstones. Dedicated to LoneWolfette and HD, who helped beta my story for errors and flow.

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FBI agent Josh Chiastolite ran down the dark street, looking for any place to find refuge. He had just been caught in the middle of a shootout between a rogue organization and his fellow agent. Though they were able to wing a couple of them, the evil agents managed to get an upper hand and killed the other agent.

As he turned the corner, he was confronted by two of the enemy agents. "What do you want with me," said Chiastolite, preparing to fight them if they jumped him.

"Not much, just your help," said the tallest of the men. "You'll be vitally important in getting the documents we need to help our cause, and yet, you won't remember a thing."

As he was talking, another of the enemy agents snuck up behind Chiastolite and struck him over the head, knocking him out. As Chiastolite fell to the ground, the enemy leader looked at the others and smiled. "Perfect timing, gentlemen. Now, let's tie him up and get him to headquarters so we can give him his instructions."

The two henchmen picked up Chiastolite by the wrists and dragged him to the car. The car sped off to the evil organization's headquarters to make preparations for the biggest act of sabotage the United States ever faced.

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It was a cool autumn afternoon at Whitney High School. Ralph Hinkley was teaching his class a health lesson and mentioned the school's annual blood drive, which was being held at the library, and was received with some minor complaining.

"Hey, Mr. H, why are we's talking about a lame blood drive," asked Paco. "I mean, what's so important about giving blood?"

The blonde-haired teacher rolled his eyes before turning to the class. He was a little tired of the students constantly questioning why he was teaching them, though he sometimes he wondered as well given more frequent lukewarm responses. "Well, Paco, there are quite a few important reasons to donate blood. Did you know that you can help several people with one pint of blood? It can be separated into parts as well."

"Like, plasma, red blood cells and platelets, isn't that right Mr. H," asked Rhonda.

"Right, Rhonda, and not only that, right now, there is a dangerous blood supply shortage here in Los Angeles given the season we're in, so every pint helps," said Mr. H. "And, that's where you come in."

The class groaned, causing Ralph to frown. "Now, just listen to what I have to say first before you. ..."

Tony decided to voice his opinion. "Hey, Mr. H, I'm not letting some quack stick a needle in my arm to bleed me like they did back in the Dark Ages."

"Tony, they're licensed phlebotomists, blood specialists. They know exactly what they're doing and make sure it's safe for the donor. Besides it's a great way to help out others. The donations help out so many people every day, so we've got to do our part any way we can," said Ralph.

"Sounds more like a great way to embarrass yourself when you faint after seeing the needle," said Tony with a slight smirk on his face.

Ralph gave Tony a disapproving look. "Come on Tony, it really isn't that bad. I've never fainted or had a problem donating blood, not even my first time. Most people don't anyway, unless they haven't prepared properly or eaten before donating."

"Now," he continued, "before anyone else comments, I wasn't saying you had to donate, as some of you probably can't for reasons such as you're too young or health reasons, but you can help by handing out flyers and trying to get people to come in either today or tomorrow."

The students looked at him with a "well, if we have to face," and nodded. Ralph smiled. "And, just to show you I'm going to do my part as well, I plan on donating at the drive today." The class looked around as they heard the school bell., so Ralph hurried up his lecture. "If you guys want to see what happens at a drive, be back at the library at 3 p.m."

The class gathered their backpacks and left, but Rhonda, Cyler, Paco and Tony stayed behind. Ralph noted the curious looks on their faces, but they were hesitant to ask him what was on their minds. "What's wrong," he prodded.

"Look, its like this, Mr. H, we know that you're doing this to help out others, but why have us help out," asked Cyler.

Ralph ran a hand through his curly hair. He really wanted to not tell the entire story to the kids, but felt this might be the best way to get them to help. "Well, you know Mr. Crysoberyl?" The kids nodded. "About a year and a half ago, he was in a car accident, causing internal bleeding. There was a shortage of his type blood, and it weren't for those of us here at the school and others who were able to donate, he would have died. In fact, it was my first time to give blood, because before then I didn't think it was that important. And, after seeing how it helps others, I've given every time I become eligible to donate thereafter."

"Man, I didn't realize you was that important in helping Crysoberyl," said Paco. "He said he'd remember the school when he retired this year, but now I know it was on a more personal level."

Ralph nodded. "Yeah Paco, and since then, I've tried to get others to donate, even if it means showing the class my mettle and give blood. Now, you guys better hurry and get to your next class. If you come, I'll see you at three, but remember, even if you don't donate, you can still help out."

"Sure Mr. Hinkley," shouted the quartet as they ran out of the classroom. Ralph turned around and gathered his books to put in his briefcase. He had about an hour to rest before heading to the drive.

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At the FBI agency, Bill Maxwell was gathering his papers together as well. He was working on a scenario that he could solve, well with the help of Ralph and the red suit, or as he liked to call them "magic jammies."

As he got up for a pot of coffee, he turned to see Josh Chiastolite, who acknowledged Maxwell with a slight smile. "Maxwell, good to see you," he said. "Is that the case on the local weaponries having supply shortages and the new security measures they've taken?"

"Yeah, you know this crazy gubmint business," said Maxwell with a smile, "Always making sure that everything runs ship-shape so everyone's safe, both on and off the job."

Chiastolite nodded, but then suddenly swayed a bit, lifting his hand to his head. Maxwell frowned. "You OK, pal," he asked. "Looks like you've run a marathon in jeans, flat soled shoes and a shirt with tie."

"Yeah, I'm fine, just tired," Chiastolite said. "Anyway, I'm about to head out for the day, so see you tomorrow."

As he left, Maxwell continued to frown. It was unlike Chiastolite to just leave for the day before 5 p.m., especially since he was one of the few who was trying to break Maxwell's records. Shrugging off his worries, Maxwell filled up his coffee cup and went back to work on his case, trying to figure out how he could get Ralph to help with the case.

Once outside, Chiastolite heard a voice come out of his pocket. He reached inside and pulled out a communicator. "I found the case file," he said. "All we need to do is break in and photo the files off of Maxwell's desk."

"Good," said the rogue leader. "We'll break in tonight, when everyone's left, then after we get the documents. Thank you for your help, Chiastolite, you'll be rewarded shortly."

After he switched the communicator off, the leader turned toward his second man. "Go about two blocks east and get on top of a building near the agency. When Chiastolite walks by the building, shoot him. No one will connect the two that way." The other man nodded and headed toward the location.

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Maxwell looked at his watch and realized he needed to talk with an informant helping with the case, so he left his desk and headed outside. He just about reached his car when he heard the gunshot. He ran toward where the sound came from, gun in hand, only to find Chiastolite lying on the ground, unmoving. He stooped over to check for a pulse, but found none.

Shortly afterward, he heard another gunshot ring off the brick wall next to him. Bill turned and ran for cover, searching the area for snipers and wondering why they killed Chiastolite. When no more shots were heard, he headed for his car. He had a bad feeling that there was more to this that what it seemed, and he'd need the help of Ralph and the suit.

Meanwhile, inside the agency, a gentleman wearing a black suit headed toward Bill's desk. He had managed to slip in during the shift change without so much as a peep. Knowing he had only five minutes, the enemy agent riffled through Bill's documents and found the ones he needed. He pulled out his spy camera and took pictures of them, then placed them back in the file and left. Soon, he thought, after they developed the film and made prints, they would have everything they needed to get the supplies for their own fight.