Author's Introduction:

(*Firestar peeks out from around the doorjamb, ready to dodge if anyone throws a weapon*)

Here I am. Before I begin, I just want everyone to know that I so appreciate all the reviews I've been getting for this story, and to answer the questions people have written notes asking me, Yes, I am going to finish it. I can't give anyone the ETA they seem to want though—I'm planning a double bachelorette party for two friends and fighting like mad to get down to 116 lbs before they both get married this summer (almost there! 4 lbs to go!), all while trying to be creative, draft a webcomic, keep my apartment clean and try to keep my sanity. But let's see if we can't make a little headway here. (*settles down and begins eating leftover Marshmallow Peeps*) Oh, don't look at me like that, these are only 28 calories a Peep. (*smiles and winks*)

I know it's taking me a while to get this down on paper, but I dearly love hearing what my readers think, whether it's via review or PM. I may not always respond, but I can promise you I read every one! So thank you for reading and taking the time to tell me how you feel about it. I want everyone to have as much fun with this as I am!

Now let me see. Where were we…? Ah, yes!...

This was originally supposed to be part of chapter four, but I didn't want to wait so long to update, and the chapters of this story seem to be getting massive, not that I'm complaining. Actually I'm quite pleased, and I hope you all are too.

When last we saw the guys, they were digging for bones in the park, while Sage and Mia made an appearance at Hiro Imamura's funeral service. Things got complicated on both sides, but no one's bleeding.

Yet.

Cross My Heart, and Hope to Die

A Ronin Warriors fanfiction by Firestar9mm

Chapter Five: The Tropic of Sir Galahad

Sometimes late when things are real and people share the gift of gab between themselves
Some are quick to take the bait and catch the perfect prize that waits among the shelves
But Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man
That he didn't, didn't already have
And Cause never was the reason for the evening
Or the tropic of Sir Galahad
So please believe in me

(America, Tin Man)

Ryo smoothed the dirt almost reverently over the hole they'd filled in, after Cye had taken pictures of the disturbed earth. He couldn't help but feel like he was sealing a grave.

Kento had offered to search for the missing head of the animal they'd found buried in the earth, but now he circled back to join his friends, looking glum with his hands in the pockets of his dark overalls. He kicked the earth with a scuffed work boot in disgust. "It's not here."

Rowen emerged from a nearby bush, nodding in agreement as he brushed leaves off his dark t-shirt. "No head, man. No skull, no teeth, nothin'. It's gone. All I found were a coupla pork chops, but they weren't eaten."

"Pork chops?" Ryo scratched his head. "In that bush?"

"Unda it." Rowen nodded. "Whatever animal this was, it couldn't reach 'em to eat em. If th' head wasn't missing, I'd say th' poor critta starved t'death."

"Its neck was sticking out of the ground," Cye mused, looking down at the disturbed ground. "As if the head were the only part of it that was exposed. I suppose if someone wanted to remove it, that would make it easier—it would stop the animal from struggling or fighting back."

"No animal would allow itself to be buried neck-deep in dirt," Kento said, rubbing the back of his own neck reflexively. "I mean, I wouldn't."

"Not if it wuz conscious," Rowen joined in. "But if it wuzn't…"

"Do you think that it was done on purpose?" Cye asked. "Putting the food out of the animal's reach, I mean? If it were buried here, it would have that bush in its eyeline, so it would be able to see what was beneath it, but not get at it."

"It would make sense if th' person who did this wanted t' torture th' thing," Rowen said, shrugging. "I mean, that's just plain effed up."

Ryo sat on the ground, his eyes slitted in fury, his blood boiling at the thought of someone restraining and harming an animal that couldn't fight back. "Mia was right. A person did this, for sure. They restrained or drugged this animal, tortured it, then killed it. Whoever did this, they're a coward." Wildfire grit his teeth; there was no breeze to ruffle his tangled hair, but it seemed to have gotten wilder all on its own in accordance with his mood.

"But why?" Cye asked. "Why torture the animal? Why take the head? What is the point of any of this besides utter sadism?"

"Maybe this person just gets their jollies from bein' a jerk." Rowen shrugged again. "Still, keepin' a skull is just plain creepy."

"No," Cye said. "It's more than a trophy. This has to mean something."

"Mia will know," Kento said, with cheerful confidence that his "big sister" would solve this mystery. "Let's bring the bones to her. You think she and Sage are done with the funeral stuff yet?"

"What about the camera?" Ryo asked, letting Rowen help him up from the ground. "Shouldn't we get the pictures developed first? Mia will want to see the scene the way it was before we dug it up."

Cye nodded. "There's a one-hour photo developer a few blocks from the diner."

Kento's ears perked up. "An hour is a long enough time to eat cheese fries…"

"You read my mind, mate," Cye laughed, and the boys started heading back to the CJ, happy to put the grisly murder site behind them for now. But Ryo glanced over his shoulder as they departed the meadow, knowing that the evidence of what they had found would always be on film…and in their minds.

Mia and Sage were silent all the way back to the Jeep, but as soon as the doors clicked shut their mouths clicked on.

"I wish you hadn't mentioned that you'd try to get your colleague's work published," Sage said. "It's going to be such a disappointment to his wife when she realizes it can't be done."

Mia frowned, adjusting her seat belt. "You know, Sage, for someone who has so much going for them, 'I cannot do it' is your middle name. What makes you think it can't be done? It's at least worth a try, and you know I didn't mention it on purpose to upset that woman." Arching a brow, she added, "Talking of upsetting people, I'm not the one who made Hiro's assistant cry. What's gotten into you? What was all that stuff back there?"

Sage's mouth slashed into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Oh, that? I was just pretending to be your friend. Pretending we'd gone through something important together."

Mia blew her bangs out of her eyes with an exasperated breath. "Oh, grow up, Sage! You know I didn't mean it like that."

"I never know what you mean," Sage burst out, looking almost relieved, as if he'd been wanting to say it for a while. "You confuse me completely."

"Well, forgive me for being such a burden," she said bitterly, rolling her eyes, but before she could go any further he cut her off.

"Don't say that." His voice became an ear-shattering roar in the enclosed space, shocking Mia into silence. Sensing he had the upper hand, Sage pressed his advantage, speaking rapidly as if the words had gone septic inside him and he couldn't keep his thoughts to himself any longer. "I'm tired of you constantly implying that my concern for you is some kind of chore, and I can't believe you'd joke about that night—that night!"

Mia blinked rapidly, her mind rewinding the last hour until she remembered what he was referring to. "I didn't mean to—"

"You didn't mean to!" It came out on a mirthless laugh, and the smile he turned to her was equally sharp and joyless. "All I've been through, all I've seen, and that is the nightmare that jolts me awake, even after all this time."

Mia gazed at him with wide, shocked eyes. She'd had no idea. "You started it," she said, but with none of her usual vigor. "You brought it up, not me, and now you're yelling at me for trying to make light of it?"

The mirthless smile faded, and his face was open and unguarded for once; the look he gave her was unbelievably tender. "Mia. I almost lost you that night. That will never be light. Not for me."

In the quiet, he seemed to collapse on himself, huddling down in the driver's seat and rubbing at the bridge of his nose, shielding his eyes with spread fingers. He turned the key in the ignition, but the sound of the engine coming to life didn't mask a weary sigh, as if she'd completely exhausted him.

Mia felt incredibly guilty, not just for hurting his feelings but for giving him a hard time about "babysitting" her—which she hadn't realized was a job he took very, very seriously. She wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to reach for him, but instead elected to give him the space he seemed to need.

They drove in silence, Sage's hands mechanical at the wheel and the gearshift. After a few blocks, Mia hazarded, "I'm sorry. Every time we see each other, there's some crisis."

Sage glanced at her, then put the blinker on. Mia listened to the click-click, puzzled. They were nowhere near the highway towards the cabin—they weren't even at an intersection.

When he pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine, the silence was loud and ringing in her ears. She grew steadily more alarmed as he released his seat belt, the better to lounge in the driver's seat. Leaning against the driver's-side door, he considered her with eyes the color of twenty minutes after sunset.

"Every time we see each other, there is some crisis," he explained, "because you and I only see each other when there's a crisis."

It took Mia a few seconds to wrap her brain around the logic, but once she did, it made an absurd kind of sense.

"Think about it," Sage pressed. "Unless there's a demon overlord threatening to enslave humanity or suits of armor come to life and start running around on their own, you and I don't spend much time with each other unless the whole group gets together. It's not like we...hang out, or anything." The slang sounded stiff rolling off his cultured tongue, but he managed.

"I…" Frowning, Mia realized that he was absolutely right. "Are you saying you want to hang out with me?"

"Why, is that odd?" Sage turned to look out the window, as if he didn't want to see her face when she answered. "I mean, you'll spend time with Ryo or Kento, but not with me. I see so little of you, and I'm not sure why."

"I didn't think you'd be interested," Mia realized aloud, the words filling with truth as she spoke them. "I didn't know you wanted to see more of me."

Sage's expression was fragile as he turned back to meet her questioning gaze. "Mia, I'm here now. The guys wanted to surprise you, to get everyone together to see you, and I've come, and you don't think that's because I wanted to? I came here for you."

Mia felt her face heat with a rush of blood. "I…I didn't know. I think...I think there's a lot I didn't know."

Sage tilted his head in the way that meant he was looking at her, really looking at her. It was so hard not to shudder under his pale gaze.

"Are you hungry?" was all he said.

The mercurial change of subject was too quick for her; her brain stalled for a second and her mouth disengaged. All she could get out was "What?"

"I asked if you were hungry," he repeated.

She forced her mind to resurface from those eyes and wrap around the question. "Um, starving, actually." Even as she thought about it, her stomach rippled with a sudden hunger pang.

"So am I," he said. "Would you like to go get something?"

"With you?" Sometimes she wondered how she could remember long-forgotten histories and reel back legends without any trouble, but as soon he looked at her for more than three seconds her tongue stuck and tumbleweeds capered through her brain.

"No," he said. "I thought we'd go to two separate places, then meet back up at the car." His eyes twinkled, and the smile bled down from them to touch his lips.

She blushed. She hated sounding stupid, and with Sage it seemed to happen more often than not. "…Sorry. I'm slow today."

"No," he said suddenly, his eyes turned back to the road. "You're not slow. I'm asking the wrong questions." Tilting his head towards her once more, he asked, "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Again, her body threatened to shake with nerves. She told herself that this was ridiculous. It was Sage. It wasn't like they'd never shared a meal before. They'd shared hundreds. He was asking to be polite, that was all.

Suddenly, the idea of killing time at the cabin waiting for the others seemed quite repellant, and the quiet warmth of his company beckoned to her. "Yes, please," she said softly.

They ended up at a pleasant little café, the outdoor tables sheltered by an awning, and Mia had to wonder if he'd chosen the place because he liked it, or because he thought she might. It was only after the hostess had seated them that she suspected it might be the latter; she was smiling at the pale fairy lights twined throughout the surrounding shrubbery, but his look of approval was trained on her, not the décor.

Mia was buoyed suddenly by the idea that he was trying to please her, even if it was just to smooth over their earlier misunderstanding. Such was the nature of Sage's apologies; they were quiet, and if you weren't paying attention there was a chance you'd miss them, but they were always sincere, even in their subtlety.

Without her conscious thought, a smile was curving her lips and her eyes were hooding in comfort at their familiar dance. While each of her boys was different and special to her in his own way, the relationship she shared with Sage was something else again. It was a complicated fabric of extremes; of losses of temper; of apologies offered with actions, not words; of an acceptance of each other regardless of their different temperaments. It wasn't the brotherly warmth she felt for Ryo or the easy affection she shared with Kento, but she'd become somehow used to the way she and Sage drove each other crazy, and she knew that without their duel of wills, some part of her would atrophy, lonely and sad.

Mia had learned long ago that a useful side-effect of hanging out with someone as annoyingly good-looking as Sage was that it never took long for the waitstaff in any given establishment to notice him, so besides looking special for being seated with his group, there was the added bonus of not having to wait long to be served. He, for his part, tolerated the attention with a cool, detached expression, his violet eyes flickering to the side every so often to show that it was an effort. Tonight was no exception, and the beaming waitress took their appetizer order before Sage had had a chance to even get properly settled in his own chair after pulling Mia's out for her. Normally that particular antiquated display of chivalry was something she could have done without, but whereas she would have argued about it with another man, she knew instinctively she ought to let Sage have his way on it, and said nothing. The waitress repeated their appetizer and drink orders rapidly, then was off like a shot, promising she'd have someone there in less than a minute to fill their water glasses.

"No hurry, really, it's...there's no need...to...rush," Sage sighed as the girl departed, realizing he was talking to empty air. Mia could only smile at him.

"You know," she said after the busboy had brought the promised water, "I'm glad you use your powers for good and not for evil. Trust me, if everyone I met fawned over me, the temptation to take advantage would be awful."

Sage's eyes narrowed, but he was smiling. "How do you know she's fawning over me? Maybe she's interested in you."

Mia laughed at the unexpected joke, but returned his volley. "Can't be. Not with these thighs."

Sage's smile faded into a relaxed expression, dawnsky eyes drifting to half-mast. "I don't see anything wrong with your thighs."

Mia's throat closed in defiance of the water she was in the middle of drinking, so she swallowed hard and then put it down, willing her face not to flood with color. The table looked suddenly like a tennis court, Sage on the other side, eyes carefully neutral, waiting for her to make her play.

Steeling herself, she smiled, and it was easier than she'd thought to look casual. "That's because the tablecloth's hiding them. Now, what are you ordering? If I order something different, we can share."

It was the right move; Sage's eyes twinkled in appreciation of her jest, but he didn't pursue the topic any further. Opening his menu, he asked, "What makes you think I'll agree to sharing my entree with you?"

She picked up her own menu, beaming. "What makes you think I'll ask permission?"

Sage actually laughed, and Mia smiled for real, knowing she'd won the round. "Brat," he said, but his tone was affectionate, and he returned her smile.

There was a one-hour photo developer down the block from the Starlite diner, and a few smooth words from Rowen convinced the girl behind the counter to jump their roll of film to the front of the queue. Victorious, the four Ronin wandered down the block and scored a window table at the Starlite.

"What'll it be, Kento?" their waitress asked, dimpling at her favorite customer.

Kento grinned. "French fries, Serena, and don't skimp on the cheese."

The girl's heavily made-up eyes twinkled, long black lashes closing over one in a wink. "Sure, honey. Back in a minute."

"Now there's a girl who knows the way to a man's heart," Kento sighed, watching the girl's hip-swinging walk back to the kitchen.

"Speaking of your heart, if you keep eating those fries it'll attack you," Cye laughed.

"Worth it," Kento said with a grin.

Cye looked at his watch . "The pictures should be done before we finish here. At this rate, Sage and Mia will beat us back to the cabin."

Ryo unwrapped his drinking straw, then poked the lemon slice in his water glass till it capsized. "Do you think Mia's okay?"

Rowen grinned. "No worries. Sage is wit' her, and I'm sure he's takin' real good care of her."

Kento snorted. "Yeah, twist his arm. Sometimes I think he'd be happier if he could pack her up in a cat carrier and take her everywhere with him. He acts like if he takes his eyes off her for one second she's going to get attacked by ninjas or something."

"Kento!" Cye and Ryo groaned playfully, the latter tossing his napkin at their friend and repeating "ninjas" with a laugh.

"Come on!" Kento argued. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed. I can't believe Mia hasn't told him off about it yet."

Cye's eyes sparkled with a new idea, and he presented it to the table at large with a note of wonder in his voice. "Maybe she likes it."

Ryo looked puzzled, as if that thought hadn't occurred to him before, but Kento interrupted before he could speak. "Gimme a break!" Hardrock said. "Mia hates that crap."

The more he thought about it, the more Cye realized he was making sense, and his words gained velocity with the force of conviction. "I'm serious! Mia knows Sage isn't overprotective as an insult. It's his way of telling her he cares, and maybe she allows it because she appreciates his attention."

Ryo's tiger blue gaze had narrowed to slits of suspicion. "What are you saying?" he asked Cye, and it was clearer now that he had never considered that one of his own comrades might have such intentions towards his beloved "sister".

"What he's sayin' don't matta. Sage'll neva make a move," Rowen laughed. "Sage's idea of romance is havin' a girl tie a handkerchief t'the tip of his lance before he jousts someone."

Cye chuckled. "Could you imagine Mia tying a handkerchief to someone's lance before a joust?" he asked.

Ryo laughed too, the joke having neatly defused his display of machismo. "Mia would get on the horse and joust the guy herself!"

Discussion of the idea was stalled by the arrival of the waitress with their dishes.

About halfway through dinner, the waitress stopped being so obsessively attentive to their table. Mia was sure that she had overheard some of the teasing banter they'd been volleying back and forth, and once she delivered their dishes she gave Mia a very knowing smile and made herself scarce afterwards, stopping by only one more time to ask them if they'd like coffee or dessert. Sipping the cold pear sake she'd ordered, Mia realized suddenly that the waitress now thought she and Sage were on a date. Part of her felt silly, because that wasn't strictly true, but it startled her that a bigger part of her felt a little important knowing a stranger thought she was on Sage's arm.

After all, it wasn't like she hadn't ever toyed with the idea.

More than once.

Who could blame her, after all? Even just aesthetically speaking, he was a sight—making hearts pound everywhere he went, charming everyone with the way he spoke. The guy every girl wanted and every boy wanted to be.

And the most fascinating, maddening part about it was, he didn't seem to care about any of it. Mia sometimes wondered what it was like to be like Sage—to be that arresting, to walk into a room and have three-quarters of it stop what they were doing to watch you.

Even now, that thing he was doing with his glass—holding it with just the tips of his fingers, rolling it so that the remainder of the sake swirled sparkling and silver at the bottom of it, his eyes hooded and lazy in the warm contentment of something as simple as sated hunger—it was carelessly lovely.

She almost had to physically shake herself out of these thoughts. As always, she reminded herself that he was younger than she—as if it mattered anymore, really—and barring that, he could have any woman he wanted and he didn't seem to want any of them. He'd end up with a nice, proper wife and a nice, proper life, and he'd never given any sign that he wouldn't be happy with that lot.

And she wanted him to be happy. She wanted all her boys to be happy.

"So, who do you think is going to win that war for Earth?" Sage asked, eyeing her. "The Ronin or the forces of evil?"

Mia grinned—that calm, graceful demeanor hid a razor wit that she loved when he let it out to play. "Ronin," she said. "Evil's got a team of losers on the bench and nothing in the bullpen."

He chuckled, and it was a nice sound, warm and full. Another wonderful facet of him that rippled to the surface only rarely, that laugh. "Good answer."

She felt warmed by even the small praise, and thought herself special for being able to call forth the magic of that laugh.

He smiled, one pale eye on her, the other obscured by thick blond hair. "Now that I've lulled you into a less guarded state of mind with my fabulous comedy stylings…" The smile faded just a touch, severity spilling into it. "Are you all right?"

She looked down. It'd been so nice, and he had to go and ask that?

"No," she said softly. "I'm not."

He nodded at the answer he'd been expecting. He waited for her to continue.

"It's not even like I really knew the man," she sighed. "We weren't, like, friends or anything. I can't help but feel like it shouldn't be bothering me this much."

"It is disturbing," he said gently. "To come across something like that."

She blinked. She was grateful for the show of support, but surprised as well—it was not like Sage to make excuses for someone.

And looking into her own heart, she knew the real answer. She just wasn't sure speaking it aloud would be smart—once words were thrown into the air, they couldn't be pulled back.

Too late. He'd seen. "What?" he asked, brows dipping over his eyes. "What is it?"

"What's disturbing is I'm getting used to this," she finally said. "Why do these things always happen to us? After all we've been through…you start hoping for maybe two seconds of something that doesn't…" She fumbled for the right word.

Sage supplied it. "…suck?"

The slang sounded so alien coming from his lips, and his expression looked just as amusedly bewildered as she felt, that she had to laugh. It felt good, and some of the tension eased out of her back. He understood. She should have known he would.

"Yes," she breathed, giggling at their shared misfortune, and he was laughing too. "Where's the cartoon sunset? When do the credits roll? When do you get…" She trailed off, afraid of the feeling bleeding into her voice.

"When do you get to be happy?" he finished for her once more, voice soft, just below a normal speaking voice, as if he mightn't be speaking to her, but to himself.

Her heart jumped painfully in her chest. He knew. Could he sense the hurt child in her, the one who'd wept over the corpse of an old man, the one whose tears had dotted her fingers as they flew over a keyboard in the very next second—the one who'd realized that the fairy tale come to life might not have a happy ending?

Did he ask himself the same question? Was he wondering about "happily ever after" too?

She wanted very badly to ask, to reach for his hand, but he'd just do what he always did when she brought up this sort of thing-he'd smile and dodge her skillfully with a witty remark, even though they both knew it wouldn't distract her. And she'd let him get away with it, because deep down she was afraid of the possible answers. If he were unhappy, it would break her heart, and if he already had all he wanted...

Instead, she turned her head to the side and spat a different question. "Where the hell is my tiramisu?"

Sage chuckled softly, gaze dropping to the plastic card that held the dessert specials. "Maybe I should have ordered dessert."

For what she felt was possibly the first time all day, Mia knew exactly what to say.

"We could share," she suggested, nudging the extra fork toward him.

Putting the plastic card down, he returned her smile. "I'd like that."

After leaving Serena the waitress a generous tip and agreeing to her request that they come back soon, the four Ronin began walking the few sunset-drenched blocks back to the one-hour photo developer. Rowen had the tabloid out, its cover folded back over its spine to reveal the page with the story about the beast. Lines furrowed Strata's brow beneath his blue forelock as he studied the article.

"Don't waste your time, Ro," Ryo advised. "We've been over that thing a dozen times. There's nothing else in there."

"I keep feelin' like we're missin' somethin'..." Rowen trailed off, blinking his blue eyes at the page. Then he glanced around the street with new attentiveness before looking back at the page, snapping his finger against it in triumph. "I knew it. It's here."

"What is?" Cye tensed immediately, spreading his feet to anchor himself, and Ryo looked questioningly at his friend. He still wasn't sure exactly what had happened at the park the day before, but he knew that Cye wasn't the only one who'd been spooked by it. Mia had been extremely upset as well, and even Kento had been rattled.

"I mean, here is where these pictures were taken," Rowen explained, holding out the magazine. "Check it out."

A closer inspection of the article revealed that Rowen was absolutely right. One of the photos was a shot from inside the alley where the police had found what was left of the body of a homeless person, and if you looked towards the mouth of the alley you could see across the street. Although it was blurry, it was the pink and purple neon sign of the same nail salon they were currently standing in front of.

Trotting across the street, Ryo took a few cautious steps into the alley itself and found more evidence to support Rowen's theory. He could see the same sewer grate and dumpster that was in the pictures, along with the same graffiti on the brick wall—red spray paint turned fuschia with age. Up close, Ryo could clearly read the scrawled message—"Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light".

"Well, shit," was his answer to his friends, who were staring across the street expectantly. Not surprisingly, a disagreement broke out almost immediately.

"Let's get the pictures and get out of here," Cye said. "I'm not in the mood to be zapped again."

"We hafta check this out!" Rowen argued. "There's prob'ly a clue or somethin'."

"Easy for you to say. It didn't try to kill you," Cye snarled.

While not the most diplomatic of the Ronin, Kento was straight as a die. He solved the argument easily by saying, "Look, I don't wanna hang around here, either. Cye and me will go in and pick up the pictures. Rowen, if you want to go play Sherlock Holmes, knock yourself out. I don't think you're gonna find anything, but it's up to you. We'll be back in a minute."

"Deal," Rowen said cheerfully, loping across the street to join Ryo.

As the blue-haired Ronin left them to their work, Kento gave Cye a serious look. "If anything goes wrong, though, we're going over there."

Cye didn't argue. Rather, he balled up his right fist and smacked it into his left hand with a knife-slash smile. "If that thing shows up again, it had better hope I don't catch up to it."

Kento smiled.

Ryo was already beginning to wish he'd offered to go to the funeral with Mia. Sure, it would have been awkward, but it probably would have smelled a hell of a lot better than what they were doing right now.

"This is too disgusting," Wildfire declared, his voice stunted from trying not to inhale. He was sorely regretting wearing the jeans with holes in both knees-he was standing in a pile of half-empty juice boxes and every time he moved something that felt like freezing Jell-O would swipe against his exposed skin.

"Take it like a man, Ryo," Rowen advised, flicking a discarded french fry at his friend. "We've had it pretty easy up until now."

"Cye can't ride this electrocution thing forever," Ryo threatened, banging a fist on the metal wall of their current confines. A mistake—he ended up smearing cold ketchup on his fist. "Aw, dude."

"They collected th' evidence an' took pictures," Rowen said calmly. "An' they've both been attacked by th' thing. It wuz our turn to get our hands dirty." Pleased with his own joke, he grinned at Ryo. "Get it, Ryo? Get our hands dirty?"

Ryo didn't laugh. "I hate you," he muttered, tiger blue eyes narrowing to slits. He could hardly be blamed for being cranky—he and Rowen had been in a dumpster, knee-deep in trash, for the last fifteen minutes. By contrast, Rowen seemed to be happily wallowing in the refuse, "looking for clues" as he put it. The most they'd found so far were a few bones, but a closer inspection revealed them to have once belonged to a chicken before it was fried by Colonel Sanders. There didn't seem to be anything else of interest in the alley. Ryo was about to crawl across to Rowen and suggest they abandon the search when the pile of garbage he was perched on shifted, pitching him forward. Unthinkingly, Ryo put one hand out to stop himself from falling face first into the trash, and his hand sank up to the elbow, putting his nose dangerously close to the top layer of refuse anyway.

"Ohhhhhh, maaaaaaannnnn." Withdrawing his arm, Ryo groaned and wished he hadn't worn a short-sleeved shirt. His arm was covered in sticky pink goo, and he was now wearing three bracelets that might have once been large, diner-style onion rings.

Rowen chuckled. "You found a milkshake!"

"If you don't shut up, I will knock you unconscious and leave you in here," Ryo threatened, but the last words were born on a whine and didn't sound all that menacing. Pulling off the onion rings one at a time, he threw them at Rowen. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this!"

"Ay. Ay! No throwin' trash!" Rowen declared, trying to block the onion rings. One bounced off his head. He managed to deflect the second one, but the third, which was a little bigger than the others, looped around his wrist as he flicked it in defense. His once-white sleeves were now covered in panko crumbs and what looked like cocktail sauce.

"Two points!" Ryo cheered, as though he'd just won a ring toss game.

But Rowen had stopped shaking his wrist with a serious look on his face. "Maybe ya get ten points," he said. "I think ya found a clue!"

He extended his wrist towards Ryo, and Wildfire could see that the shaking had loosened some of the panko coating on the object, and it wasn't an onion ring-it was a collar, complete with a dangling, bone-shaped license tag.

"It's not an onion ring, but how do you know it's a clue?" Ryo asked, reaching to scratch his head and then thinking better of it since his fingertips had brushed some discarded pad thai. "Anyone could have thrown that out."

"Who throws out a dog colla?" Rowen said. "It ain't broken or snapped. Maybe it belonged t' the dog we found in th' park."

"Even if that were true, how'd it get all the way here?" Ryo asked doubtfully.

"Maybe th' head is in here, too!" Rowen said. "Ya think?"

Ryo shook his head and frowned. "No. Why would someone cut off a dog's head and carry it all the way to some random location to throw it in a dumpster?"

"This ain't a random location," Rowen said. "Th' paper said the beast got someone here."

Ryo continued to look unconvinced. "I mean, anything's possible, but I think you're reaching, Ro."

"Maybe, but I just gotta hunch, an' there's been a lotta dogs runnin' around this whole thing. Mutant ones, an' dead ones, an' stuff. Let's bring it to Mia." Wrinkling his nose at the collar, he added, "Let's clean it up first."

"Let's clean ourselves up first," Ryo laughed, in better spirits at the thought that their lunatic expedition might have done something useful. "Ready to get out of this dumpster?" He offered Strata his hand.

Even as they started to climb over the lip of the dumpster, Rowen began to argue that they should continue their search for the head he was now convinced was somewhere in the trash below them. "I still think we oughta—"

The petition was stalled by the sight of Hiro's satchel, which Rowen had carried with him all day. Sage had seemed pretty certain that the monster wanted the bag, not Mia herself, and so Rowen had offered to take it with them instead and see if the creature rose to the bait. Seeing what was playing out before them, both Ronin realized that Sage had been absolutely right.

When they'd started their dumpster dive, Rowen had propped the satchel up against the side of the alley to keep it safe, figuring they'd see anyone entering the alley who might have ideas about taking it. Under normal circumstances, this plan would have been a good one. The problem was that the thing currently attempting to take the satchel had not entered the alley from the street.

Indeed, it hadn't entered the alley at all. Plain as day, both Ronin saw the big, furry paw reaching slowly for the bag like something out of a nightmare, claws extended as if to help pull its target toward where it lay—the open sewer grate. There wasn't much to see except the clawed paw, but it was far too big to belong to any domestic animal. Even from here, they could see the paw was close to twice the size of White Blaze's, and the tiger was not small. How the beast was even managing to wedge the questing appendage out of the narrow grate was astonishing, but Rowen's brain spun with horrible visions of a large dog standing up on its hind legs in the sewer below, reaching out the grate like a puppy trying to get to the cookie jar. There was no mistaking what it was—red lights flashed in the darkness beyond the grating as it reached for its prize, first two, then three separate lights, burning in a hellish-looking triangle. As the Ronin watched, the hideous claws stabbed into the leather satchel, puncturing it in places, and began to drag it towards the grate.

All of this happened in the space of a few seconds, and then Rowen jolted into action. Scrambling ungracefully out of the dumpster, he landed hard on knees and one hand, then bolted across the alley to grab the satchel in a diving tackle. Ryo tried to follow, but Rowen's quick movement had shifted the trash so that his foot was trapped between a smashed wooden crate and a discarded toaster.

"Gotcha!" Rowen said, looping his hand through the satchel's handle and tugging. "Gimme that, ya big slobberin'—"

He was cut off by a tremendous pull from the creature, whose claws were still embedded in the satchel. With a yell, Rowen was dragged across the concrete, his arm disappearing to the shoulder in the sewer grate. "What the hell—!"

Ryo was alarmed enough to throw caution to the winds and wrench his foot free from the trash, feeling cool air hit the scraped skin as he flipped clumsily over the side of the dumpster and belly-flopped onto the concrete, all previous aversions to the garbage they were coated in were forgotten. Uncaring about the pain or whether the thick substance sliding down his tortured ankle was blood or Yoo-Hoo, he raced across the alley and grabbed Rowen under the arms, hauling him backwards. Or trying to—the beast was not about to give up the satchel without a fight.

Hissing in a breath, Rowen stumbled and screwed his eyes shut tight. A mewling sound trickled from between his suddenly grit teeth, and Ryo knew the monster's other paw wasn't idle beneath the sewer. A low, rumbling growl was vibrating just beneath them.

"Let go!" Ryo hissed to Rowen. "It's not worth your arm!"

"It's worth somethin'...if this thing wants it so badly!" Rowen grated out, squinting with the strain. "An' I ain't givin' it up! I promised Mia I'd bring it back t' her!"

"Mia will under—stand!" Ryo retorted, but they gained a precious inch of ground in the right direction, although Rowen groaned with pain. To his credit, Strata shifted his position, trying to brace his feet against the grate for more leverage.

"Pull, man," he wheezed. "Pull as hard as ya can, an' don't stop even if my arm comes off!"

"Rowen—"

Pounding footsteps alerted both Ronin to the arrival of the calvary—Kento blasted into the alleyway. "Hang on, Rowen!"

Before Ryo or Rowen could shout a warning, Kento had slammed his considerable muscle into Rowen's shoulder, knocking both boys dangerously off-balance, but also shoving them an entire foot backward. Ryo went down, dragging Rowen with him, and the added velocity was enough to bring the monster paw back out of the grate, still clinging with single-minded desperation to its prize—and completely vulnerable to an attack from above. Cye was happy to oblige. Brandishing a trowel that they'd used earlier to dig the bones up in the park, he brought it down with both hands to stab the monster's paw. Blood exploded from the wound and the paw retracted back into the sewer grate with a high-pitched yelp.

"And stay down there, you mangy bastard," Cye snorted, chucking the bloody trowel to one side idly. Turning, he regarded his friends with worry. "Sorry I didn't get here faster. Everyone all right?"

Chuckling, Rowen held his hand out to Cye. "I owe ya an apology, man. I don't wanna see that thing never again!"

Smiling, Cye hauled Rowen up carefully while Kento assisted Ryo. "No apology necessary, mate. I'm just glad you've still got both your arms!"

"Idiot," Ryo said good-naturedly, but his voice shook unmistakably as the adrenaline rush left him. "I told you to let go! What's wrong with you?"

Now that the immediate danger was over, Rowen was happily back to sleuthing. "I'm tellin' ya, there's somethin' important about this satchel an' this collar an' this alley! I'm sure it has t'do with the bones we found in the park. We gotta get back to Mia an' tell her! She'll figure it out."

"First we have to get you bandaged up," Kento corrected. "Damn, man. Look at your arms! There's blood everywhere!"

Rowen glanced down at his arms. One sleeve was completely shredded, blood oozing from half a dozen rough scratches. His other once-immaculate white sleeve was stained red. "Whaddaya mean?" he said, looking confused. "It only scratched one'a my arms!"

"Then what's all over your other sleeve?" Kento asked.

Ryo looked green. "You don't want to know."

The sun shone like a new penny at the end of the world as Sage navigated the Fairlady out of the city. They'd been quiet for much of the drive, and not for the first time, Sage was grateful that Mia was one of the few people he could sit with for hours without feeling pressured to speak. There were in fact a lot of things he wanted to say to her, but the silence was too lovely to break, and he was afraid that broaching one topic would inevitably lead to others—for instance, he still felt awkward about catching her undressed that morning, water slicking her skin. He wasn't sure why it had been such a big deal—it had only been as revealing as seeing her wet and shining in a bathing suit, and he'd done that plenty of times, so he wasn't sure why this had felt so much more...scandalous.

Then again, her bathing suits weren't indigo and lacy, he thought, then quickly tried to steer himself towards sobering thoughts: kendo stats, kittens drowning, monks immolating themselves in protest.

"Thank you for supper," Mia said softly, startling Sage out of his thoughts abruptly enough that he tapped the brake reflexively. "I wish you'd have let me pay for half."

He shook his head. "Mia. Don't be silly."

"Why is that silly?" she asked. "You did something nice for me; I should thank you."

"I didn't go out of my way for you," Sage insisted. "You're a lady. I'm a man. Things are—and should be—expected."

Mia clucked her tongue good-naturedly. "Please. It's you and me. You don't have to treat me like a lady."

Sage allowed his amusement to color his voice as he responded. "You are a lady. Whether you like it or not."

It was the right thing to say; Mia laughed softly, fidgeting with the skirt of her simple black sheath. "Thank you also for coming with me today."

Sage only smiled, one eye on the road and one on her. "I didn't do anything important," he said dismissively.

"You were there," Mia insisted, her amusement forgotten in sudden passion. "That is important. It was because you lent me your strength that I didn't drown in my own memories this afternoon."

Sage just shook his head, and while his smile faded, the look he slanted her way was admiring. "I didn't lend you anything. You're the strong one, to face that once and willingly walk into a situation that would make you relive it. Compared to you, I'm a coward. I live in dread of the day I'll have to go through all that myself. I…I'm afraid of it."

While he didn't admit aloud that he was referring to his grandfather—speaking the words into the air would make it too real somehow—he had a feeling Mia knew him well enough to pick up the subtext. Sure enough, when she spoke her voice was as soft as her eyes, which had always rested kindly on him. "You know, Sage, when the time comes, you'll find you can do things you never imagined you could. You'll see how brave you can be."

Despite the severity of the subject matter, he found himself slanting a smiling at her, humbled in the presence of someone whose pain had given her such wisdom.

"Besides," she said, the usual brightness sparkling in her voice, "you'll have me there to back you up. You know, if you need me."

Sage chanced taking his eyes off the road to look at her, really look at her. There was no pretense in her smile, no challenge; it was not a duel of wills but a simple, honest offering of herself—an offer of her hand in his, her presence at his side, if he wanted it. For the first time he could recall, he wished his beloved Fairlady had an automatic transmission. If it had, he could have released the gearshift to reach for her. "I need you, Mia."

It turned out he never needed to release the gearshift—as though she could read his mind, Mia's hand closed over his on the lever, her slender fingers sliding over his knuckles to lace with his and squeeze. "Don't worry, Tin Man," she promised sweetly. "I won't tell anyone you've got a heart."

He chuckled, but he was more grateful than amused—both for the promise of her support in hard times that were bound to come, and for the warm weight of her hand over his. They said nothing more for a while, simply watched the sun sink lower over the road that led towards the cabin. It was only when Mia's grip on his hand relaxed ever so slightly and her breath turned deep and even beside him that Sage realized she was asleep. She looked frightfully young beneath her bright bangs and lowered lashes, the sun gilding her as it set the horizon on fire. Belatedly, he realized how exhausted she must have been.

That protective feeling flared in him again, and he slowed the Fairlady down a little. He didn't have to push the speed limit, just this once. Let her have a little time to sleep.

Mia woke slowly. Her sleep had been mercifully dreamless, nothing but warm lion colored light flickering behind her closed eyes until a gentle touch brushed her cheek. Instinctively, she turned towards it and her vision resolved itself into blond hair and violet eyes. "Mia. Wake up," Sage said, but not unkindly.

Blinking, she realized they were once again parked in front of the cabin, and that it was swiftly darkening twilight outside. She was immediately furious that she'd wasted even a half hour of time by sleeping. "Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing. "Why didn't you wake me sooner? How long have I been asleep?"

"I would have let you sleep longer," Sage said instead of answering. "You looked like you needed it. It's been a long day." Unbuckling his seatbelt, he got out of the car and circled to her side. "I would have carried you inside, but I had a feeling you might not like being treated like a damsel." He punctuated this with a knowing smile, leaning his forearms on the passengers'-side door.

Mia frowned playfully, and the swat she aimed at him was weak from slumber. "You're such a beast."

"And you're a sleeping beauty," he responded, opening her door and offering her his hand. Still pretending to pout, she allowed him to escort her into the cabin. White Blaze, who had been dozing by the door, lifted his head and twitched his tail in greeting, but made no attempt to follow them inside. Instead, he stretched his paws out like an oversized contented house cat. Mia wondered if there were a few less woodland critters running around under the trees tonight, and decided not to dwell on the somewhat gruesome concept.

Freshening up and washing her face helped a little, but Mia still felt fatigued, and she was surprised to see the other boys weren't back yet. Returning to the living room, she watched Sage shrug out of his suit jacket, folding it neatly and draping it over the arm of the sofa. Tilting his head to stretch his neck, he loosened his tie and draped it neatly over the jacket, unbuttoning his collar to expose a triangle of skin. That was about as casual as he ever got when dressed to impress, but for some reason it only made it more attractive to see it coming from a man who spent a lot of his time buttoned up.

To distract herself from the sight and the thoughts it inspired, Mia expressed her concerns about the whereabouts of the other Ronin. "I wonder what's keeping them," she murmured idly, looking out the window as if doing so would make the other boys appear on the doorstep.

Strong hands slid over her shoulders, sliding her own jacket down her arms. "Why don't you go and lie down for a while? It'd be more comfortable than sleeping in a sports car."

Mia shook her head. "I don't want to sleep anymore."

Instead of taking the comment at face value, Sage circled to face her, looking concerned. "Nightmares?"

She smiled wryly at him. "I don't have nightmares. I'm too busy starring in yours."

He flushed, brow creasing. "I…I apologize for speaking so harshly to you. I lost my temper. I am sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"You didn't, really," Mia sighed. "You were just being honest, and goodness knows the memory is worth a nightmare or two." She embraced herself, one hand rubbing up and down her bare arm as though she still felt the frozen waterfall's chill. Laughing sadly, she turned towards him and added absently, "Couldn't you have dreamt me someplace warm and happy? Someplace…nice?"

Sage's eyes were the color of the sky the minute before dawn, his gaze intense. She could see the struggle in his face as he dueled with the possible consequences of speaking his mind. Finally, he seemed to decide that the risk was worth it; when he spoke, his voice was soft, almost a purr.

"I never said I only dreamt of waterfalls."

Alarm bells began ringing in Mia's head. Their afternoon in the graveyard came rushing back to her, and the "later" they'd spoken so glibly of was suddenly upon them. Intellectually, she knew she ought to chirp something silly and flirtatious and extract herself from his personal space, but when she clumsily backed away from him he followed, and she wasn't trying very hard. She couldn't clearly remember when her boys had started towering over her; one day she had just suddenly realized she was shorter than everyone else. Sage was not above using his height against her; if she had ever had a reason to think he'd hurt her, it would have been scary. As it was, she simply marveled at gave him ground, putting a hand between them as though she could stop his advance; Sage walked into it and she felt a hastened heartbeat beneath her fingers. "Sage…"

Several acceptable escape routes were making themselves available to her: Maybe you're right, I should lie down. It's been a long day and I'm not feeling myself. If you'd wake me when the others get here, I'd appreciate that, and thank you so much for—

"What do you dream?"

That was not what she'd meant to say at all.

Sage exhaled slowly, that basilisk gaze focused as intently on her as ever. Reaching up, he took her hand, pulling it away from his chest. But instead of tossing it aside, he held on, thumb pressing against her palm. Curling her hand around his, she squeezed, and he used the contact to pull her close. The movement was slow, deliberate. He was giving her the chance to run.

"Mia," he whispered. "Stop me."

There was no room for "stop" in her mind. Her senses were full of his scent—so warm and clean; a hint of the soap he used and the tang of aftershave—full of the rough feel of his calloused thumb tracing circles on her palm. "Stop" fell forgotten from her vocabulary and all she could see was empty space in him that she could fill, shadows across him that she could chase away. She wanted to be held; she wanted him to hold her. And something in those eyes…a light, the barest flicker that told her maybe, just maybe…

She tilted her face up; he bent down.

The kisses were a little desperate at first, as if they didn't believe they were really going through with it finally, tension singing through their bodies as if each believed the other would bolt.

Even as he backed her up against the wall to ensure she had nowhere to run, Sage tore his mouth from hers to gasp, "Is this wrong?"

"Oh gods, shut up," she growled, seizing a handful of his hair in one hand and pulling his head back to hers. He laughed against her mouth and just like that the tension was broken, but the kisses were no less fierce.

"Doesn't feel wrong," he murmured. "Feels…very…" He sighed, closing his lips on hers again. "…right."

"Stop…thinking," she ordered, pushing him towards the sofa with her hands, following him with shaking legs and a demanding mouth.

Straddling his lap made her taller, and she pulled him to her by his collar like every bad romance novel she'd ever read. He made a sound, a low groan that wound desire like a spring in her stomach, and then their mouths locked; he was kissing her back with the force of too many years of wanting the same thing and never acting on it.

Oh, yes, yes, yes, Mia thought dizzily, eyes sliding closed, the better to feel the heat of his hands on her, pulling her closer; the better to hear his sharp intake of breath as she shifted her weight atop him, the a-line skirt of her dress hiking higher on her thighs.

When her lungs burned from lack of air, she reluctantly broke the kiss, one hand sliding down his chest, the other brushing aside the hair that covered his eye. He blinked shyly, face flushing, as if she'd begun to undress him with that one simple touch.

It's okay, she said—or was it thought? She wasn't sure.

The touch seemed to please him; his eyes darkened with an emotion that she couldn't place, the color of dusk falling. He leaned close once more, lips brushing against hers as he spoke. "Your heart's pounding," he whispered, so softly. "And so is mine."

This time, there was no desperation, no doubt. There was nothing, nothing but his mouth on hers, warm and demanding, nothing but the touch of his hands. One had settled on her back, just above the clasp of her bra beneath her dress. Knowing that he'd seen what she was wearing underneath the dress made her blood fizz with excitement; a slow stroke of his fingertip along the raised clasp let her know he was thinking along the same lines himself. A simple touch, nothing more, and yet her stomach turned to water and she shuddered, one large hand on the small of her back to keep her close, the other resting boldly on her thigh, sending shudders through her.

So good to hold him finally, try to show him with mouth and hands the desperate depth of feeling that she had for him. Sage groaned into their kiss, letting her know he appreciated her efforts; Mia opened her mouth to him, allowing him to sweep his tongue past her parted lips and caress her own. Fever washed over her skin and her fingers tightened around his neck. Nothing, nothing but this forever, felt like fireflies and ice chips all over and there was nothing else nothing just this—

Something jingled.

Mia jumped in Sage's arms; he tightened his hold on her, nuzzling against her throat, surprised as the intrusion shrilled again. Mia shivered at the abrasive sound. Too loud, not nearly as nice as those soft breathy sounds Sage had been making, that deep rumbling purr she could feel and hear at the same time…

"It's the telephone," Sage said. Mia's heart swelled as she looked at him—his pale eyes were hazy, lips swollen from kissing. She'd never seen him look so bewildered; it wasn't like him to state the obvious, and he seemed startled by the volume of his own voice.

That awful sound again, grating, insistent. Whoever was on the other end of the line wasn't giving up.

"I should," she whispered, staring into his eyes. "Probably."

"Hm? Oh. Yes," he said, just as dazedly.

Reluctantly, Mia got up from his lap. His hands brushed her arm, stroked over her leg, as if he wanted to touch her for as long as possible.

"Hello?" The receiver was heavy in her hand.

"Mia?" the voice crackled on the other end of the line. "Is that you?"

Mia's brain was too dizzy from cologne and kissing to remember any of the names or faces that might have belonged to the man talking to her. "Yes, it's me."

"It's me, Ryo," the caller continued. "I'm at a pay phone. You okay? You sound out of breath."

Even though he couldn't see her, Mia blushed to the roots of her hair, putting a hand to her bright cheek. "I'm fine! I was just running to the phone, that's all! I'm fine." Despite its harmlessness, the lie felt awkward. She'd never lied to Ryo before. "What's going on?"

"We ran into a little trouble," Ryo explained. "Rowen's hurt. He's okay," he added hastily, "he's just a little banged up. We're going to head back now, but he needs to take it easy till tomorrow."

"Oh, dear," Mia said softly, flushed cheeks cooling. "What can I do? Does he need anything?"

"Yeah—bandages, aspirin, you know. We offered to take him to a doctor, but you know him—he keeps saying he's fine. He wants to come home and show you our clues."

"You found something?" Mia asked, her concern for Rowen tempered by intrigue.

"Sure did. It's—well, let us get on the road and we'll tell you everything. You and Sage okay?"

Mia glanced at Sage and her face flooded with color. "Sage and I are fine," she said quickly. "Why? What did you think would happen?"

"Huh?"

Mia cursed herself inwardly for her misstep. "Nothing. We're fine. Just—just be careful coming back, Ryo, and keep an eye on Rowen!"

Replacing the receiver, she cradled her head in her hands. Sage was up and at her side in a minute, the one-sided conversation jolting him out of his paralysis. "What? What's wrong?"

"Rowen is hurt," Mia reported. "Ryo wouldn't give me any details. He just said Rowen was 'banged up'. I shouldn't have let them go. I should have known this would happen."

Sage's knuckles dragged affectionately down her cheek. "And tell me, O Cassandra, how would you have known?"

Her lashes fluttered down and she leaned almost imperceptibly into his caress. "They'll be back soon," she said, trying to return to business. "I should wash my face; I should comb my hair."

She tried to shrug away from his touch, but Sage caught her chin gently, turning her face to his. "Mia. You're perfect."

Helplessly, she allowed him to take her mouth again, wondering how the heat of her blush felt to him, feeling as though the world were a bright shining soap bubble that could break at any minute. His kiss was gentle, and when she broke it he didn't chase her. "They're on their way," she repeated. "I...I'm not ready..."

Luckily, she didn't have to explain any further; he nodded. "It's all right."

"No, it's not, but..." She ran her hands through her hair. "Sage..."

"You don't have to say anything," he insisted. "There's a lot going on right now, work that only you can do. I'm not going anywhere."

Instantly, the pressure in her chest eased. Giving him a hopeful smile, she asked, "Do you mean that?"

He frowned, but it was playful, and he gave her the gentlest of shoves away from him. "Go. Do what you have to do—before I do what I want to do."

If Mia had been worried that the other Ronin would walk in on her and Sage passionately entwined on the sofa, she needn't have—they broadcasted their approach long before they opened the front door. She'd kept herself busy by collecting various first-aid supplies and arranging them on the kitchen table. Since Ryo hadn't told her what had happened, she had no idea what she'd need, but she figured she couldn't go wrong with gauze, bandages, aspirin, scissors, iodine and an ice pack. Sage had politely stayed out of her way, and she wondered if maybe he didn't need a minute to himself even more than she did, but she didn't allow herself to dwell too long on the implications of that. "Any sign of them?" he finally asked as he padded into the kitchen where Mia waited, medical supplies spread out on the table in front of her.

"No, not y—wait," she said. A car door slammed outside, and a babble of voices could be heard outside the open window.

"Rowen, slow down-don't you dare try to carry anything in! Ryo, get him-"

"I'm fine, toleja I'm fine, Kento, grab that end of th' tarp, wouldja? Ay. Ay! No shovin', no shovin'!"

Kento was the first one into the cabin, and Mia arched an eyebrow as she took in the sight of him—he had been wearing a shirt beneath his overalls that morning, but the shirt had since disappeared. "Not that I'm not loving the display of beefcake, but where's your shirt, Ken?"

Kento grinned and flexed a muscle. "Don't try to flatter me, gorgeous. My shirt's on Rowen, but maybe you could help me rig up something better?"

Mia was able to decode that odd sentence when she saw Rowen come in the door, side-stepping through at the request of Ryo and Cye, who trooped in after him laden down with bundles and packages. White Blaze followed close behind, and kept wary wood-brown eyes on Rowen as he manuevered through the door. Sage moved to help his friends, and everyone moved into the kitchen.

Kento's shirt had been fashioned into a sort of sling, keeping Rowen's right arm close to his body; Mia walked him to a straight-backed chair and sat him down. "What happened, Rowen—where does it hurt?" She spun to reach for the supplies she had set out on the kitchen table, then stopped short, wrinkling her nose. "What's that smell?"

Blushing, Rowen treated her to his most angelic grin. "Sorry, gorgeous. It's me. I wuz hopin' I could take a shower afta ya looked at my arm. It ain't as bad as it looks."

Mia cast a suspicious look at Ryo, whose grimly set jaw confirmed that Rowen was bluffing. "I'm not hurt," Ryo said, sliding a paper packet across the table. "Can I shower?"

"Please do." Mia sniffed again, unable to hide her expression of disgust as she pulled another kitchen chair close to Rowen. "You guys smell like you rolled in garbage. What happened today?"

Cye was busy clearing a place for the tarp he was carrying on the kitchen floor with Sage's help. "Look at him first," Torrent instructed. "Then we'll figure it all out together."

Ryo escaped towards the shower. "Don't start the figuring without me, guys. I'll be back in a flash. Man, I feel like some Greenpeace guy is going to have to dunk me in dish soap like a baby duck in an oil spill."

"Ryo, throw those clothes out when you're done," Mia called after him., "You, too," she added to Rowen, frowning at his shredded sleeve and bloodstained clothes. "I hope you weren't too attached to this shirt, because I'm cutting it off you."

"Nah, it's cool," Rowen said. "It sorta hurts t' move my arm anyway."

Sage was actually the most helpful in determining the extent of Rowen's injuries—he spent a few minutes poking, prodding and asking Rowen to move his arm certain ways, then declared that Strata's shoulder was not dislocated. "It's just a pulled muscle," he said. "We'll put some balm on it and wrap it up and you can take it easy for a few days, but it's nothing serious. The cuts look a lot worse, actually. So how big was it this time?" There was no need to ask what exactly had attacked Rowen.

"Dude. Big," Rowen said. "I mean, all I saw was its paw an' that was huge by itself. It came—" His eyes widened comically. "It was in the sewers. The sewers, man. That's how it's gettin' around. That's how come it c'n chase us all ova the city."

All eyes turned to Mia, who nodded. "That makes sense. If it can really change size—and I think we're all agreed now that it can—it wouldn't have any trouble getting down there and back out again. But why did it make itself so big if it was just going to steal the satchel?"

"It knew we were there," Ryo said, having returned looking ten times happier and smelling twenty times better. White Blaze seemed to have sensed that his best friend had had a bad day; he'd shoved his head in Wildfire's lap and was now happily having his ears stroked. "I saw its eyes. And there were definitely three this time. I saw them." Wildfire had ditched his ruined clothes in favor of flannel pants and a t-shirt softened by repeated washings. Mia felt jealous that she was still in her funeral dress, his relaxed look reminding her how uncomfortable and stiff she felt.

"Me, too," Rowen said, wincing as Mia swabbed the cuts with stinging iodine. "Ow."

"Sorry, but we have to keep these clean or you'll lose your arm for real," she said. "We can't let it get infected. You were actually pretty lucky, Rowen. If its paws were as big as you said, these are pretty shallow claw marks."

"It just wanted me t' let go of your bag," Rowen insisted. "It couldn't bite me cause it was tryin' t'pull th' bag with its teeth."

"How do you know that?" Kento asked. "When I showed up, all I saw was you with your arm down a sewer."

Cye held up the satchel. "No, he's right. Look." The leather was now peppered with holes, and some of them were misshapen and smelled strongly of sulfur. "Old Acid-Breath got its teeth in this, all right."

"What is so important about that bag?" Sage said.

"I don't know," Mia said determinedly. "But I'm going to figure it out." Patting Rowen's thigh, she said, "Go and shower, but carefully, and then I'll wrap up your arm, all right?"

Rowen stood, dropping a kiss on Mia's head. "You're th' best, gorgeous. Do I get t'call ya if I need help washin' my back?"

Mia would have laughed if Sage hadn't cleared his throat very loudly, earning him curious looks from Kento and Ryo. Cye just smiled and shook his head. Swatting at Strata, Mia stood up. "Go on, scoot. I want to hear all about what happened today and then you're getting some rest. No arguments. Go."

Once he was gone, Mia whirled and turned to Ryo. "How bad was it really?"

Ryo rubbed his eye wearily. "I didn't really see anything once it got its claws in Rowen—he was in that sewer grate up to his shoulder. I felt it pulling, Mia. It was big. And strong. If Kento and Cye hadn't shown up, we would have either lost the satchel or Rowen's arm. Possibly both."

"You should have made him let go," Mia said reproachfully.

Ryo smacked his forehead. "Mia! I tried! He was babbling some nonsense about how the satchel's so important if this thing keeps trying to steal it. He was on a mission-we wouldn't have even been in the alley in the first place if he hadn't insisted we take a look around."

"Kento and I should have stayed with you two," Cye lamented. "It's my fault for being such a baby."

"No way, man," Ryo said. "You were there when it counted. Everyone's fine. No big deal."

"Next time I'm there the whole way," Cye promised. "No more splitting up. Agreed?"

"Agreed," everyone chorused.

After some discussion, the kitchen table was covered in newspaper and the day's spoils were arranged so that everything could be looked at all at once. The pictures were sorted through and placed beneath the bones, which were laid out to resemble their original shape as best as the Ronin could estimate it. When Rowen returned, Mia slathered the injured arm with antiseptic ointment and liniment for the pulled muscle, then wrapped him in gauze from fingertips to upper arm. Sage fashioned a new sling out of a pillowcase, and Rowen sat at the head of the table to preside over his beloved "clues"—he'd flatly refused to let Mia settle him on the sofa while everyone talked in the kitchen, and no one wanted the bones in the living room.

"My gods," Mia said, looking over the bones. "Where's its head?"

"That's the sixty-four thousand dollar question," Cye said. "We never found it. We looked everywhere nearby, too."

"And some places that weren't nearby," Ryo joked. "But yeah, nothing."

Mia's brow furrowed in thought as she picked up a picture. "And it was buried just this way? So that only the head would be sticking out?"

"Yup," Kento said. "We can't figure out why. Oh, and Rowen found some pork chops nearby."

"Thanks for not bringing those back," Sage said, and everyone laughed.

"But th' pork chops wasn't eaten," Rowen said. "It wuz like whoever buried th' dog wanted it t' see 'em, but not get t' em."

"Are we sure it's a dog?" Mia asked, touching the tail bones.

"Yeah, pretty sure," Kento said. "It's too big for a cat. Of course, we can't tell without the damn head."

"What's with the collar?" Sage asked, reaching for the object. "Was it in the park, too?"

"No, the dumpster," Ryo said. "Isn't that weird? We didn't find the head, though. Of course, we were interrupted when the monster paw came out of the sewer and tried for the bag."

"Why were you even in the dumpster?" Mia asked. "Why go there?"

"Oh, it was Rowen's idea," Cye said. "Kento and I were picking up the pictures from the one-hour photo developer and Rowen realized that the alley was the same alley where the monster got that homeless person."

Mia frowned. "Why would the killer bring a dog collar all the way to the alley just to throw it away? Were they trying to destroy evidence that they killed the dog?"

"Why kill a dog to begin with?" Ryo asked. "It's just sick." It was obvious that Ryo was still incensed over the dog's gruesome end.

"They say most serial killers start wit' animals," Rowen pointed out. "Maybe th' killer was trying t' see how much nerve they had before movin' on t' something bigger. Like...practice."

"Either way, we can be sure a person killed the dog," Mia said. "A human being, like I've been saying from the beginning."

"I agree," Ryo said. "The demon's just a foot soldier. It's a weapon. We're looking for a person, like you said."

"I hate to play devil's advocate here, but how do we even know these two things are related?" Sage said. "It's awful that this dog died such a horrible and lonely death, but why should that have anything to do with the monster that's attacking us?"

"It's too big a coincidence," Mia said, shaking her head. "The same person is definitely behind both things. I just don't understand the significance of killing the dog. It's the same as the incongruence of pushing Hiro down a flight of stairs. The demon would not have done that—a person did those things."

"But why?" Kento asked. "If whoever it was wanted to kill the dog and Mia's friend, why not just use the beast? Why make everything so complicated?"

"Complicated..." Mia trailed off, then smiled. "Kento, that's it."

"Yay!" Hardrock cheered, then stopped. "What's it?"

"It had to be complicated," Mia explained. "It's a spell. A magic spell."

She was greeted with silence and stunned looks until Rowen smacked his good hand down on the table. "That's it? One, two, three, it's a magic spell? Come on, gorgeous! I got my arm chewed up f'r this. Gimme somethin' betta than that!"

Mia laughed, completely nonplussed by this outburst. "I'm serious! Why else would anyone go to so much trouble to arrange things in a very specific layout unless it was a magic spell? It's...well," she brightened with inspiration. "Well, it's very like you!"

"Like us?" Cye asked. "How?"

Mia explained. "You five represent five virtues and five elements. You're a team, and you work together. Alone, you're not nearly as strong, but when all five are united, you can do incredible things."

"Like Voltron?" Rowen asked, cheering up at this new idea.

Mia sighed patiently, eyes dropping to half-mast. "Yes, Rowen. Just like Voltron."

"Ignore him," Ryo said. "This is interesting. Does it always have to be five things?"

Happy to be useful, Mia reached into her pocket for her lipstick. Uncapping it and twisting the tube up to reveal a column of a blue-pink lipcolor the stores were calling "Big Bow", she took a section of newspaper and drew a five-pointed star on it, circling it. "This is a pentagram—it's very widely used in magical practices, but nearly every religion has had something to do with it at some point in history."

Kento had become interested. "We did that once," he said, gesturing. "We did that back in Toyama."

Mia beamed at him, a smile full of pride for a pupil who had done well. "That's right! You five were protecting me and Ully. You concentrated your power into the symbol."

"The Ancient broke it," Sage cut in, remembering, "and we were separated. That's where you took the helm."

Mia blushed, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. "Books and cleverness. That's barely an assist. Listen," she continued eagerly, pointing to the pentacle. "The four major elements, they're all here—earth, air, fire, water. That's you guys."

Sage arched a brow. "Do I feel hurt that you've left me out?"

Mia smiled at him. "I didn't leave you out. The fifth element is spirit. I'd say you've got that in spades."

The blond averted his eyes, but not before she saw the smile in them that he wouldn't let reach his lips.

"Does something go in the center?" Cye asked, looking at the symbol.

"A dumb girl who stuck her nose in. It's not important," Mia said. "It's how the five elements interface that make the magic."

"Is five a base number?" Rowen asked. "Can it be five anythin', like five fingers or five senses?"

"Nice of you to join the rest of the class, Rowen," Cye snickered.

"No, he's right," Mia said happily. "Lots of the rituals I've read about use five senses as the base for the spell."

"What do you mean 'base'?" Ryo asked, scratching his head. "This stuff's all Greek to me."

Mia pursed her lips in thought. "Well…take your armor, for example. How do you get it?"

Ryo frowned. "You know how. Something's trying to kill us, we know we need armor and weapons, we have our orbs, and we call out to summon it."

She nodded. "Right. You focus all your energy on your goal, and you utter an incantation, and there you have it." Leaning back in the booth, she sighed. "From what I've been gathering from my readings, magic is two parts force of will and one part technical know-how. Every spell seems to have ingredients—certain things it needs to act as a base. You can't just snap your fingers and make magic—you need a physical representation to focus your energy into." She reached for the photos Kento had taken. "As above; so below. That's what this is—our killer arranged all these ingredients together and brought a demon to life. We just have to figure out what demon this stuff is a recipe for, and then we can figure out how to get rid of it. Great work, you guys!"

Kento and Rowen were beaming at their big sis's praise, but Cye looked troubled. "I hate this," he admitted. "Demons are one thing, but when someone consciously reaches out for such evil…"

Oddly, it was Sage who offered comfort to his friend. "We'll stop it. It's no match for us."

Mia smiled at him, then tapped both her hands on the table briskly. "Okay, that's enough for tonight. Rowen, I want you to take two aspirin and relax, all right?"

"Aspirin sounds like a good idea, actually," Rowen said. "Anybody wanna play cards for a while? I'm all keyed up."

"Can you play with one hand?" Kento asked.

"I'll beat ya with one hand, but don't ask me t'deal." Rowen grinned. "Guys?"

"Sure," Cye said. "A distraction might do us all good, actually. Goodness knows I could use one."

"I'm in," Ryo said. "Mia? Wanna be the prettiest banker at the Wildfire Hotel and Casino?"

Mia laughed. "No, you guys have fun. I'm tired...I think I'll turn in early."

"Guess that makes me the prettiest banker, then," Sage joked, and the others laughed.

Mia dug into the junk drawer for the deck of playing cards as the boys headed into the living room, the kitchen table otherwise occupied by evidence. "Watch out for Sage, guys," she advised, handing the deck to the owner of that name. "He cheats."

"Never," Halo swore as he took the cards, his hand lingering on hers just a little longer than was necessary. "I promise."

Before she could respond, he turned and followed the others into the living room, leaving her alone to several entirely new thoughts.

Author's Notes:

Dear eff eff dot net: If you could stop eating my chapter formatting, I'd really appreciate it—it is beyond annoying to have to go back and replace my chapter content because all of my dividers and formatting have mysteriously vanished, and underline everything before bolding it because for whatever reason, the underlining has to be done before the bolding. It all just makes me want to run towards the nearest living thing and kill it. Stop doing that. Thank you.

"Tin Man": I love America's music. Shoot me. Think less of me. Nothing makes me feel freedom like hearing "Ventura Highway" and imagining being twenty-four and driving up and down Highway 13 in the sun, New York to Virginia and back again. People have been arguing for decades over the lyrics to "Tin Man", particularly the lyric "the tropic of Sir Galahad", but I imagine it's simply a reference to the practice of chivalry, which always applies to Sage under any moon.

"Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell leads up to light": Toyama has some pretty literate vandals—the graffiti scrawled on the alley wall is from John Milton's Paradise Lost.

Tell us, O Cassandra, where has the sweetness of life gone?: When Mia is beating herself up for not knowing the boys would get hurt if they went looking for clues, Sage makes a reference to Cassandra, beloved of the sun god, Apollo. Basically, Apollo loved Cassandra and gave her the gift of prophecy as a token of his affection. However, Cassandra changed her mind about being his consort, and as punishment, Apollo decreed that she would always be able to see the future, but no one would ever believe her warnings about it. Like all truly effective punishments, this one's true power was not in causing pain but instead in simply being intensely frustrating. Cassandra would have been able to say "I told you so" during the fall of Troy, but she went mad and was killed shortly after by Clytamnestra in Agamemnon.

"Big Bow": Mia's lipstick color is anachronistic—"Big Bow" was a limited edition MAC lipcolor from their Hello Kitty line. I only wish I'd bought two!

Voltron: Rowen makes a reference to the awesome Defender of the Universe, Voltron, when discussing the importance of teamwork, and this is not anachronistic. Voltron, or GoLion in its original Japanese, is a terrific series that started its run in 1984, and has the distinction of being among the first wave of power-of-five shonen stories (followed later by Saint Seiya [1987] and Ronin Warriors [1988] and a whole host of others). The Voltron story is the stuff legends are made of—a planet in peril, scary alien invaders, a wicked demon prince, awesome lion mecha, a beautiful princess who knows how to kick ass, and five handsome space explorers who fall from the stars to save the day. And space mice! What's not to love?

Slowly but surely, things are starting to sort themselves out. Next chapter: Mia does her homework, and the gang makes a plan to trap the demon. Luckily, it does not involve a skateboard, a pulley, and a fire extinguisher; anything else, I can't say. (*smiles and eats another Marshmallow Peep*.)

Mmmm…Peeeeeeeps.