Warning: Rated for language and violence.

The main characters of this story are based on characters from the cartoon 'Code Lyoko.' I do not own, nor do I claim, any copyright to these characters.

O o O

The day after the meeting in the principal's office, a courier from the US Embassy stopped by and dropped off some papers for Jim. When he opened them, he saw dossiers of Mr. Thompson and the people that would be helping him with Jeremie and Aelita.

The second dossier he saw made his jaw drop. Gunnery Sargent Ann Grace, it read. Expert in small arms, unarmed combat, Recon. Several awards and commendations. But it was the picture that caught Jim's eye. She had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He stared dreamily at it for a moment before setting the report aside.

Corporals William Pyle and Michael Coffy were the other two men. These must be the two that rescued the kids, Jim thought to himself. Both were competent men, according to their reports, and saving Jeremie and Aelita raised Jim's opinion of them greatly. He knew a lot of soldiers that wouldn't stick their necks out for anyone, back when he was in the service, he couldn't even count on the fingers of one hand the number of men he served with that would do something as reckless and courageous as that.

Of course, I couldn't count myself as one, either, he thought to himself.

Mr. Thompson included a note saying that they would have their first session with Jeremie and Aelita tomorrow at 4 pm. They wouldn't need anything other than access to the track. Jim made a mental note to watch the first session. He just had to see Belpois hustle just once.

O o O

At 4pm the next day, Jim was waiting in the courtyard of the campus when Mr. Thompson and Ms. Grace walked up. They both were dressed in casual street clothes, except for their shoes, which were athletic ones.

The PE teacher had to use all of his self control to keep his jaw from dropping. The picture of Ann Grace was one thing, her actual presence was something else altogether. She was about 5' 9", beautifully proportioned, and had red hair that framed her lovely face like an expensive wooden frame. She was well muscled, as well as well developed, from what he could tell. A small part of him wanted to find out just how well developed and muscled she was.

"Afternoon, Mr. Moralés!" Mr. Thompson called out as they walked up to him. Jim smiled and extended his hand, and they both shook it in greeting. Jim noted that Ann's handshake was as firm as Taylor's was.

"Mr. Moralés, this is my assistant, Gunnery Sargent Ann Grace," Mr. Thompson said, "Ann, this is Jim Moralés, the Physical Education teacher here.'

"Pleased to meet you," she said. Her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her. His mind wandered into a world of possibilities, with Ann Grace as the center.

"Well, Mr. Moralés, are you joining us today, or just observing?" Mr. Thompson's question brought Jim back to reality.

"Uh, just observing today," he quickly said, trying to recover, "I might join in later on, if you don't mind; and I might have some questions after you're finished. Oh, and call me Jim, Mr. Moralés is my father."

The two Marines smiled. "No problem, Jim," Mr. Thompson said, "you can call me Taylor. Ah, here come our two victims now."

As they were talking, Jeremie and Aelita walked out of the dorm and up to the group.

"Jeremie, Aelita. Come with us and we'll get started," Taylor said, "Aelita, you go with Ann, and Jeremie will come with me. Let's go."

As they paired off and started walking away, Ann turned around and said, "oh, and Jim, you'd best elevate your eyes and clear your head, okay? You keep staring at my chest and daydreaming, you might miss that bus barreling down the road at you."

O o O

Jim kept his distance and watched the training. The two Marines took the kids and led them to the track, talking all the while. When they got onto the track, they kept walking and talking, Taylor and Jeremie walking in one direction, Ann and Aelita walking in the other.

After a bit, the adults began a slow jog, all the time keeping their conversation going. The kids, now deeply engrossed in the talk and not wanting to be left out, started jogging to keep up with the adults. After a little while, the adults would speed up, just a little; and sure enough, the kids would speed up so they could keep up. Every now and then, one or the other adult would slow down a little, letting their charge slow up and catch their breath, before picking up the pace again.

Jim shook his head as he watched the show. Jeremie and Aelita were so engrossed in their conversation with the adults, he didn't think they even realized that they were being run into the ground. The PE teacher made it a note to try that technique sometime on some of his other more sedentary students.

Finally satisfied that the two newcomers weren't going to abuse his students, Jim turned and went his way. As he walked by the gates, he heard a commotion outside on the street. Some woman was cursing the mortar from the bricks over something, almost sobbing as she did. Something prompted him, and Jim went out.

Looking to where the noise was coming from, he was shocked to find Suzanne Hertz standing beside a car, hers presumably, raising a ruckus. He walked over to her.

"Suzanne, what's the problem?" he asked.

"It's my goddamned car!" she shouted back. Then she realized who she was shouting at and blushed. "I'm sorry, Jim. My car is acting up on me again. It seems over the past few days, something's always going wrong on it. Last week it was two flat tires, today it won't start. And I've got to get to the store, it's so aggravating!"

"Well, what's wrong with it?" he asked, trying to be helpful.

"I don't know, it just won't start," she replied, then added a little laugh, "I know what you're thinking, I'm the science teacher, I should know all about this kind of thing, but I don't."

"Well, let's take a look under the hood and see if anything looks out of place," Jim said. He didn't know all that much about cars himself, but sometimes a problem could be obvious. When he raised the hood, he saw he was right, the problem was obvious, not that that helped Suzanne any.

Someone had cut all of the spark plug wires to her engine.

"Suzanne, you had better take a look at this," he called. She had gotten into the car to open the hood, then stayed there in case he needed her to start the engine. She got out and joined him, then gasped when she saw the cut wires. The gasp threatened to turn into a sob. Mrs. Hertz looked as if she was about to burst into tears.

"It looks like some vandals cut your spark plug wires," he said, "c'mon, I'll take you back in and you can call he police."

"No, no, that won't be necessary," the science teacher quickly said, "I'll just call a tow truck. I've almost got their number memorized by now."

"Suzanne, what's the problem," Jim asked her point blank, "this is the second time I've seen you upset. It's not like you at all!"

"Jim, it's nothing, just a personal problem," Suzanne replied, trying to keep the pain from her face.

"It's starting to look like the kind of personal problem one reads about in the newspapers," he said, "the kind that ends with, 'police are looking for any lead and would appreciate the public's help.' You don't have to tell me, but you probably should tell someone. I'd hate it if something happened to you and I could have helped somehow."

Suzanne Hertz looked at the man standing before her. Most of the time, Jim Moralés was a braggart and a buffoon, so clueless sometimes that it was painful to watch. But in this moment, he was something else. His face showed a concern she had never seen before. It also looked like it had been a long time since he had used it; there was almost an air of unfamiliarity to it, like it had been locked away for so long, Jim almost forgot that it was there, and he had to remember how it worked.

She softened her own face, then said in a low voice, "I'm having a problem with someone, my ex-husband."