A/N: I do not own Shadowrun, just (most of) the characters used.

Moira: Thanks for the review! Hope you're not disappointed this is the end of the arc.

# The Wong Hive #

It was the middle of lunch rush when Mr. Wong got a call. The aging Oriental man sighed as he remembered the comm code of his old fixer, George. Moving over to begin preparing the newest order of beef lo mein, he answered the call. An ARO appeared in Mr. Wong's concealed cyber-eyes of a young elf.

"Hey, Hivemind!" The elf looked maybe 24 even though he should be closer to 64. He had a spiraling tattoo weaving its way over his face and shifting colors. "Look, I know youse is outta da biz an' all, but I gots a Johnny-boy here lookin' fer only da best and youse is da best rigger I know. They told me that youse was gonna get a big payoff, too. Meet's at da Runner's Rest at 10 tonight. See youse around, 'Mind."

Typical George, bugging the elderly and not waiting for a reply. Even though he did it before leaving for work in the morning, Mr. Wong did a mental diagnostics of his cyber leg and two cyber eyes. He shuffled around, going about his noodle business like nothing was different. Ten was after he normally closed down so there was no problem there, but what was so important he had to be pulled out of retirement. He groaned both at the thought of this job and how heavy the side of beef he just lifted was.

Expertly twirling his knife before cutting up the beef, he began checking out the status of his drones. The spy flies were still working fine and were keeping an eye on The Wong Wok and surrounding area. His four ARES heavy assault drones were sitting safely in his van, though one of them still needed a new leg. Tossing the now diced beef into a skillet, he started waking up his spider drones one by one and running thorough individual diagnostics on all eight of them. Everything seemed okay. Last to check was his van.

"Heah you aw, Mr. Cuttah-man," he said with a smile as he slide the lo mein in front of Carver, a heavily cybered street-sam that had earned free noodles through repeat service not too long ago. He still paid, though.

"Thanks, Mr. Wong," Carver replied, busying himself with his food.

The van told Mr. Wong that nothing was wrong, except that it could use a light cleaning. Everything reading as ready, Mr. Wong proceeded with his daily business as if he wasn't about to be dragged back into the shadows. All told, today had been a profitable day, yet not too busy. As nine o'clock rolled around, The Wong Wok was closed down and folded into a small box that was loaded into the van by way of a small crane in the back of said van. Climbing into the driver's seat, which was more like a La-Z-Boy recliner, as was the passenger seat, Mr. Wong pulled up an ARO to drive his van. The van itself was reminiscent of the old VW busses but a little larger as this model was designed to sit a couple trolls next to each other. Doubled up armor plates comprised the walls with a chameleon coating that currently showed an animated koi pond. Armored tires crunched over various bits of refuse as it rolled towards the Runner's Rest.

Descending the steps to the Rest's reinforced door, Mr. Wong was glad the meet wasn't in the upstairs club; he didn't have an ear for whatever the kid's listened to these days. Opening the heavy door with plenty of grunts, he was surprised when he didn't see Ivan behind the bar. Wading through the sea of metahumanity, the meter and a half Mr. Wong approached the bar.

"I am heah foh Johnson meet," Mr. Wong shouted over the noise at the young troll bartender.

"Only one's in room 3C, grandpa," the troll reached under the counter and produced a key. "Not for taking naps or dying of a heart attack." the troll handed over the key. Mr. Wong just glared as he took the key, knowing that fighting about his effectiveness at his age was pointless. The path to the back rooms was clearer than the one to the bar.

Room 3C was one of the fancier rooms used for business here, even though it was still furnished with fake wood. Sitting on the other side of the fake mahogany table from the door was a human woman with black hair that had a bright green streak through it. She wore simple, dark-green combat fatigues with a visor over her eyes. Behind her stood a hulking ork figure in matching fatigues, only there was no visor covering his obvious cyber eyes. She appeared unarmed, although he had an obvious H&K heavy pistol on his hip. Around the table on similar fake mahogany chairs was a young elf Mr. Wong didn't recognize and an old troll that he did.

"Squassy-man!" Mr. Wong exclaimed at seeing his old running partner. "It has been faw too wong." He took the seat next to his old friend.

"It vould not be so long, if yoo vould stop by Rest vunce in vile," Ivan chuckled as his old friend sat next to him. "How is noodle business doing?"

"It is good, velly good," Mr. Wong bobbed his head. " Now, what is so impoatant that you have to poe peopoe out of retiahment?"

"Da, vut is all zis about, vit pulling avay of ze bartender?" Added Ivan.

"Gentleman, if you will wait a moment, we are expecting a few more," Ms. Johnson replied. "It appears you two know each other, Hivemind and Hammer. Not too surprised considering your records. The fellow you don't know goes by Sylph."

"Thank you Ms. Johnson," Sylph said, nodding his head. The quality of his clothes spoke of money, as did the ivory handled pistol sitting in a shoulder holster he wore. If it wasn't for the holster and the handful of piercings he had, Sylph would look like the world's first millionaire hippy. "I do, in fact, go by Sylph when running the shadows. Perhaps you gentleman have heard of me? The greatest elf wizard in Seattle?"

"Niet," Ivan replied after thinking for a short while. "Proabably much too big for small place like Rest."

"Oh, I assure -," Sylph began to say.

"Too big of liar," Ivan interrupted. Him and Mr. Wong began laughing at the troll's joke.

"Hey, Squassy-man, you rememboe the wast ehf we wan wit?" Mr. Wong asked through his laughter, smacking Ivan's shoulder.

"Da!" Ivan exploded into a new fit of laughter. "He... He... 'Suka go splat! Bahaha!" The big troll doubled over in his chair, shortly followed by Mr. Wong for much the same reason.

"I... I don't get it," Sylph declared, sounding confused and a little hurt. "What's so funny?"

"I think they're laughing at your ego there, Sylph," replied Ms. Johnson, the edges of her mouth curling into a small smile. Sylph crossed his arms and began pouting. This elicited a new burst of mirth from Ivan and Mr. Wong. After a few minutes, the laughter subsided and the door swung open.

The person that walked in was a tall, curvaceous woman wearing tight, black leather pants and a burgundy corset. Black, skintight boots molded themselves to her sculpted calves with a simple burgundy line along the top. A short black coat sat on her shoulders and hung open at her sides, the long sleeves flaring slightly with a matching burgundy line. She had dark red hair that framed her feminine face. Her eyes were covered by a pair of dark sunglasses. Attached at various points on her body were knives of varying sizes, each one with a black polymer grip.

"Oi hope Oi'm not late fer this li'l soiree, am Oi?" She asked in a slightly watered down New Zealand accent. She sauntered over and took the chair next to Sylph. Her motions combined with her clothing invited the eye to watch her curves.

"No, not at all," replied Ms. Johnson, the only one not pulling their jaw off the floor. "In fact, we should be getting one more here soon. Gonna take those shades off? We are inside, after all."

"Ah you?" The newcomer asked with a sly grin.

"No," Ms. Johnson grinned in return.

"What do we call such a beauty?" Sylph asked, barely managing to look away from her body.

"Dahlin'," she replied.

"Yes?" Sylph asked, a small smile forming on his face.

"Aww, ahn't you jis the cutes' thin'?!" The woman exclaimed, pinching his cheek. "Moi name is Dahlin', lovah boy." Sylph crossed his arms and returned to pouting while a blush creeped into his face. Ivan and Mr. Wong began chuckling. Darling leaned back in her seat, laughing softly. "No hahd feelin's, Oi hope. It was jis so easy." Sylph continued glaring at the floor.

"Well, Darling," began Ms. Johnson. "The elf you've just embarrassed runs by the name Sylph. The troll goes by Hammer, and the Oriental gentleman is Hivemind."

"Oi heard abou' you two. Though' you blokes doied though," Darling said, a bit confused.

"Da. Ve fehk it," Ivan said, still chuckling slightly.

"Yes, we fake ouah deaths 'cuz we get oad!" Added Mr. Wong. "Velly easy wetioe when dead."

"Da. Zen old fixer find us again," Ivan added, grumbling. "Least he not dumb enough to be calling constantly."

"It does suck when someone finds your dead body isn't dead, doesn't it?" Everyone visibly shuddered at the sound of the new voice with its crisp, British accent. As one, they all turned to see a slim figure standing in the doorway. This figured strolled towards the table, grabbed a chair, spun it around, and sat down. He was wearing a long leather coat and a pair of wraparound sunglasses that contrasted with his pale skin almost as much as his short, black hair. The shirt he was wearing was the color of pure darkness, with a high collar, and sleeves ending just below the elbows of his cyber arms. His plain slacks and shoes matched his shirt. The only visible weapon he carried was a small pistol on his hip.

"Fang, I presume?" Asked Ms. Johnson, recovering from her earlier terror.

"Indeed," the figure replied. "I was told this was important, so what is it?"

Darling scooted her chair a bit closer to him, and smiled innocently. "Woooow, stroight ta business. Oi loik tha'." Fang turned his head and leveled his sunglasses at her. She grinned a little wider and turned her body so he'd have a slightly better view.

"That's all fine and dandy," he replied. "But I really don't care." He turned back to look at Ms. Johnson, looking more than a little bored. This caught Darling off guard as she reeled back in her seat like he had hit her. Sylph once again had a look of utter confusion on his face while Ivan and Mr. Wong both continued to chuckle quietly.

"W- Wot did you jis' say, mate?!" Darling demanded. Fang sighed and turned to face her once more.

"I. Don't. Care," he said each word slowly and clearly. "I'm here for a run, not to flirt. Besides, you're too loud for my tastes." He turned back to Ms. Johnson. "Again, what are we doing?"

"Well, you'll be stealing something," Ms. Johnson began, cutting off Darling's reply. "Or destroying it, as need be." With a motion from Ms. Johnson, her bodyguard produced five folders and handed them out.

"This is a device that a team of runners stole from Aztech," she continued. "However, after reading the notes on it, the team decided that they didn't want anyone to have it so they contacted me and told me that someone needs to steal it back or destroy it. You do not need to know what it does, only know that it is a dangerous device and you will be compensated for removing it from the hands of its current owner. The folder possesses everything we know about the owner and his current location. Payment will be 20K, 3 up front and 17 on completion. There is a slight stipulation, though."

"Vot might zot be?" Ivan asked, looking over the contents of the folder.

"No killing," Ms. Johnson replied with a straight face. Everyone in the room except for Mr. Wong looked surprised, Darling dropped her folder.

"Wo'?!" She almost screamed. "You hiah a team of assassins and tell them no' ta kill anyone? Ah you mental?"

"My associates would prefer this remain a blood-free operation," Ms. Johnson said evenly. "I'm hiring a team of assassins because I said I needed a stealth team and all the skilled thieves are busy, it seems. Now if you'll listen, the actual stipulation is this: if I hear that a guard has been killed or seriously injured by your team, I'm cutting 2K off your pay. If I know exactly who did it then I'll only cut their pay. Everyone clear?" She received a chorus of reluctant affirmatives. "Good. Contact me when the device has either been retrieved, or destroyed." With that, she got up and left. Her bodyguard followed close behind.

"So, who ver zey, 'Mind?" Ivan asked, still looking at the folder contents.

"They wah two wunnahs that stoe the device in thah fost pwace," Mr. Wong replied without looking up. "Nothing moe that was weawwy usefo, though."

"Got zot bit," Ivan said, lowering his folder and looking at Mr. Wong. "Nuhsing useful? Seriously?"

Mr. Wong nodded at Ivan, not looking up from his folder. Although, if anyone looked, his eyes were darting around while he did some more research on the information they had been given. Darling also appeared to be staring intently at her folder, but anyone could see her eyes darting around, as well. Fang just sniffed absently and looked at the paper.

"Okay, ouah Mistah Johnson heah is not acsually paht of copowation," Mr. Wong said after a few minutes. Ivan huffed slightly like this wasn't surprising, but both Sylph and Darling looked at Mr. Wong as if he had slapped them. "Looks like he is pawt of bug coat twying to take ovah thah pwace. Look like theiah pwans ah to stawt with Chicago."

"How didjoo foind tha' so fast, grampa?" Darling asked, sounding slightly insulted.

"Simpoe, image search his face, find on offisoe site foh bug coat," Mr. Wong replied, eyes still darting around. "Entiah scheduoh on theah, like no one take them sewiouswy." Darling raised her folder to cover the color rushing to her cheeks. "Now, the weal fun stuff is wheah he lives."

An ARO appeared for the group above the table. It was a wireframe view of a ten-storey tall apartment complex. Looked like each apartment was maybe four meters by six meters and three meters tall, with the smaller side opening into the hallway. There were fifty rooms per floor, arranged along two parallel hallways with a conjoining hallway at one end. Stairs were located at each end of both main halls. One of the rooms in the green wire frame was filled solid red on the seventh floor.

"Zat is target?" Asked Ivan, seemingly disappointed. "Why say no kill guards if no guards to kill?"

"Good point, Ivan," Sylph agreed, resting his chin in his hand as he put on AR shades to see the diagram. "Maybe there are guards in the neighboring rooms, or something?" Almost all of the other rooms filled with a sickly green color.

"These ah aw the wooms wif bug coat memboe," Mr. Wong said, eyes still darting around. "Does not look like they have tech secuwity."

"Okay," Fang spoke up. "I'll sneak in through his window and see if the device is there. If not, I'll grab any relevant information."

Sylph sighed, "sounds good to me."

"Don' sound so enthusiastic, thea' Sprite-y boy," Darling said, smiling. "Oi thoink it's a brilliant plan! Oi will, of coa'se, be provoiding backup." She beamed at Fang, who didn't seem to notice or care.

"I'll be vaiting in van vid 'Mind, I guess," Ivan said, still sounding sad he wouldn't get to hit anything. Mr. Wong sent everyone the address.

"My van onwy has woom foh me and one othah, and it looks like Ivan has taken it," Mr. Wong said as he got up. "It on othah side of town, so we hit tomowow, ya? Say, thwee in aftonoon?"

"Sounds good to me," Fang said as he left.

"Sure!" Darling rushed out after him.

"I'll go over to the place tonight and check for anything magical and report back to you," Sylph said, walking out of the room. "Least make myself useful, somehow."

They all met down the block from the apartment in a small park at three the next day. Sylph had detected some minor magical residue, but nothing that read as dangerous.

"So, are we all ready?" Sylph asked, sounding annoyed. Probably because his whole role was to sit on a bench and keep a mystic eye open. He didn't even seem to notice that Darling was wearing tight shorts that showed off her legs while hugging her hips.

"Cheerio and all that," declared Fang as he headed down the block. Darling ran up to him and wrapped her arms around one of his. Everyone paying attention could see him visibly sigh. They looked like the strangest couple in all of Seattle. He had on his leather coat and a large hat to match while she wore her shorts, a very tight halter top, and the coat and boots from last night.

"You smell noice today," She said, leaning against his arm since he was slightly taller.

"So do you," he replied, not really sounding interested.

"Thanks!" She beamed at him, silently high-fiving herself for another man under her power. "Oi use a citrus-"

"You're AB- right?" He asked while they approached the alleyway next to the apartment complex. She faltered slightly.

"Wha?" She stared at him blankly.

"Your blood type is AB-, right?" He asked again, looking at here. "That one's my favorite." He stared at her with his dark eyes, seemingly soulless eyes. She let go, wondering what type of man he really was. He laughed at that, a deep laugh. "I'm only joking, jeez! What do you think I am, a vampire? That would be ludicrous!"

She laughed at his joke and slipped into the alleyway ahead of him. "Almos' had me theah, mate." She pulled out some gecko-gloves from her pockets and put them on.

"Why do you need those?" He asked, pointing to a rain pipe leading right next to their targeted window. She tossed some hair out of her face and walked over to it.

"Don' wanna callous moi han's, jis' got a mani," she said, wrapping her hands around the pipe and beginning to climb. Fang followed along beside her, scaling the wall with his seemingly bare hands. Darling huffed when he passed her and shifted to scaling the wall with her gloves like he was. She had been hoping to force him to look at her ass during the climb up; this one was proving to be a challenge for her.

They scaled the wall easily enough wile Mr. Wong pulled his van up to the curb. It now had enough space for everyone since he left his drones at his apartment. The window was locked, but a few quick words from Fang had it open itself. Inside the apartment was meticulously cleaned. Both of the burglars searched around, doing their best to stay quiet. He didn't find anything going through the old man's personal possessions, or business documents. She, however, did find what they were looking for. In the refrigerator. The package was a dark green box with darker green symbols scrawled all over it. Surprisingly, it felt room temperature. Darling pulled out the box and showed it to Fang.

He walked over and closed the fridge door, staring at the box. Shrugging, he grabbed the box and cast a quick invisibility spell on himself. She knew that he should be heading for the window, and headed there herself when her shin connected with the coffee table in the middle of the room. Darling cursed quietly to herself, straining to hear if anyone noticed. After a few tense moments, she decided it was clear and climbed out the window. Anyone inside would have had a wonderful view of her legs as she slipped out. As it was, Fang, the only person who might have seen, was already outside and ready to close the window. A few short words from thin air and the window closed and locked itself, again.

Darling walked out to the van and opened the door before turning to look at her surroundings. Fang took this opportunity to climb in and drop his spell, appearing on the far bench with the box. She climbed in, closed the door, and sat right next to him. A thought passed through her mind of draping her legs over his, but that was cut off by Ivan yelling from the front.

"You have box, yes?" The troll called from the front of the van, turning around in his seat.

"Ya, we got it, ya big lug," Darling responded, regretting not being able to fully work her magic on Fang. "Now quoiet daun befo' everyone hea's you." Mr. Wong pulled away from the curb and picked up Sylph from the park.

"So, ping Ms. Johnson and get paid, ya?" He asked, sitting across from Darling. He tried not to look at her legs, which were now crossed right in front of him.

"Aweady on way to meet," Mr. Wong said, reclining in the driver's seat. The designated drop off point was an old warehouse across town. Mr. Wong was careful not to attract unwanted attention as he navigated the streets.

The same Ms. Johnson was waiting inside the warehouse with the same ork guard. "That was pretty fast of you guys," She said, holding out her hand for the box. Fang walked up and handed the box to her. As she grabbed it, a look of confusion settled on her face. Carefully, Ms. Johnson opened the box and threw it on the ground. The box smashed to bits and everyone saw the remains of someone's packed lunch scattered around the impact site. "You brought me his lunch!?"

"Interesting," was all Fang said, staring at what looked like a PB&J sandwich.

"Interesting?!" Ms. Johnson screamed at him. "They still have a device that can control the bugs, and you think this is 'interesting?!'"

"We' it kinda is," Mr. Wong added, eyes fixated on the sandwich. "Why would they use containment box as wunch box?" Sylph smiled and opened his mouth.

"You see," Fang began, cutting off Sylph. "If the box was a pure containment vessel, it would keep the cold in better than a standard lunch box." Railroad stared at the two men with a blank look.

"That's all fine and dandy for you two!" She exploded. "But we need this thing and we need it now! Go find it and bring it back!"

"If it's not in the box, they're probably starting to use it," Sylph chimed in. He walked over and picked up the sandwich, biting into it thoughtfully. Almost immediately he spat the food back out and dropped the rest on the floor. "Mayo! Who put's mayo on a PB&J? Disgusting." Railroad blinked a few times in surprise.

"If they're starting to use it, then we have bigger problems than how much mayo this guy eats," she said, trying to regain composure. "How about this: I will not reduce your pay for the first guard you kill, and only reduce it by five hundred for each guard?"

"Deal," Fang growled, grinning.

"Agreed," Darling said, her face set beneath her shades.

"So, 'Mind, vere are zey?" Ivan looked at the Asian man. Mr. Wong's eyes were dancing around. Even if everyone else could see what he was doing, no one could probably follow it.

"Found his PAN," Mr. Wong said, shuffling quickly towards the door. "We go now!" With that, everyone ran outside and piled into the van. Mr. Wong climbed into the drivers seat and started driving off towards the outskirts of Seattle.

After an hour of driving through the horrible Seattle traffic, Mr. Wong's van pulled up in front of a warehouse further down the coast and much closer to the ocean. You could smell the brine where they had met Ms. Johnson, but at this place it hit you full in the face. Sylph gagged when he climbed out of the back of the van. Everyone else just stared at the old brick building that needed serious repairs.

"Anothah wa'ehouse?" Darling asked, sounding exasperated. "Why ah all these cults in bloomin' wa'ehouses?"

"Because, Princess, they're cheap," Fang replied, checking the magazine in his light pistol. Darling turned on him, the blade of a knife at his throat.

"No one calls me 'Princess," She fumed. "Go' i'?"

Fang just chuckled at that and headed for the decaying warehouse.

"Vot is plan, 'Mind?" Ivan asked, doing a quick check of his arms.

"Weah, it depends on whethah the othahs wisten to me," Mr. Wong replied. He flicked his eyes and a hatch opened up in the top of the van. Four assault drones climbed out and hopped down. A handful of smaller drones skittered back and forth across the surface of the assault drones.

"Oi'll leisten," Darling said, eyeing the drones. "Though, we seem ta be missin' Fang."

"What's the plan?" Sylph asked, checking his pistol's magazine.

The shadows would have been dark, but Fang saw just fine. He saw the guards on top of the warehouse, could hear them radio in about the intruders, thought he could smell blueberries. The door wasn't a problem, in fact by how easily it opened one might think it was unlocked.

Footsteps down the hall caused Fang to slip into an open door and unlatch his fingertip. He released a short bit of monofilament wire out, letting the weight swing a few feet below his relaxed hand. Sighing slightly, he reeled his fingertip back in and latched it as he recognized the footsteps and the scent. He stepped out of the doorway and caught the anticipated knife in his hand.

"Doan' pop out a' people like tha'!" Darling scolded him. She walked over and took her knife back, the usual sway absent from her hips.

"Wouldn't have to if you kept up," He replied. noticing that she had zipped up her short coat.

"Oa' eif yew had stayed an' leistened to the plan," she huffed. He rolled his eyes and began walking down the hall again, somewhat glad to have her scent near him. It reminded him of a time earlier in his life.

"So, what's the plan, -Princess-?" He asked, emphasizing his new nickname for her.

Damn it all! She hated that name, but it sounded so good when he said it with that accent.

"The plan was fo' meh to foind yew an' thein we snick through the place," Darling said, resheathing her knife. "Thein we foind the theing and breng eit out ta 'Moind. Heh's offah'd paht of heis pay ta covah fo' the goonies weh keill."

She had to try not to swoon when he grinned at that news.

"Oh! Oi almoast fo'go'," She put her hand out towards Fang. Sitting on it were a handful of spy-fly drones. "Heh wants thes oan us. Ta kip track of us." He looked at them for a short bit before reaching out to take them. When his hand came into contact with the drones they jumped up and crawled over his hand and over his body, settling down at various locations.

"What purpose does this serve, again?" Fang asked, looking slightly annoyed by the bugs.

"Supposedly, heh ken track us in 3D weith thes," Darling responded, trying not to smile when he spoke. After giving her a skeptical look, he began walking down the hallway again. She followed, a slight spring in her step.

Sylph wandered the halls by himself. He was wondering why this particular warehouse had so many darn halls. Probably because it was a bug cult and they wanted it to feel more like a hive? Sounds about right, considering how cheap these walls look.

He could swear he's been at this intersection before. After consulting his AR shades real fast and Hivemind's map, he quickly proved himself correct. He didn't know whether he should be glad because he was right, or upset because he just went in a circle. In the end, he just turned a different way in a mood to shoot something.

"Hey, 'Mind, I sought ze whole point of team vas to be staying together?" Ivan asked, checking his rifle for the third time. Ivan and Mr. Wong were to stay outside and keep anyone from escaping. Really, Mr. Wong just wanted the company and to test the new runners. His drones could handle anyone trying to flee.

"It is, Squassy-man," Mr. Wong replied, yawning. "But we do not know how effective the next genawation is in combat. So we test them." He wiggled a little, making himself more comfortable in his chair while he checked his drones, cameras. No movement.

"I hope more be running," Ivan said, sighing. "The vuns on roof vere no challenge."

A new smell hit his nose, and he couldn't quite describe it. All he knew was that it was worse than onions or spinach put together. Along with the new smell came the sounds of soft chanting. Fang was quietly relieved, since it felt like he had been walking around in circles for the past fifteen minutes. The scent of Darling made it a bit more manageable, though.

"We're getting close, Princess," He said softly, unlatching his fingertip again. Shadows enveloped his form as he crouched and began sliding along next to the wall. If Darling hadn't seen him hide, she probably would have lost him. As is, she readied a knife in one hand, a pistol in the other, and followed his example.

Darling thought that he really needed to stop talking if she wanted any hope of focusing on the objective. She had to admit that she was starting to become attached to his new name for her, as he had continued to use it while they walked. She also had to admit that she was glad he had taken point, since it gave her a better view of his cute butt.

Her gaze was pulled away after a few corners by him stopping suddenly. Around the next corner came a light. Fang flitted around the corner and she stepped up to peer around. This particular hallway only had one door, a simple aluminum one, and a sickly green light was spilling out around it. At the far end, she could see Sylph peeking around the corner.

Silently, she followed behind Fang as he snuck towards Sylph. He got around behind Sylph before coughing slightly. Sylph's eyes bugged out as he nearly jumped out of his skin. Darling had to resist the urge to start laughing, managing to keep it down to a small chuckle. She stood up and let the shadows slide away as she sauntered towards the panicked Sylph. His blushing face become even redder.

This is not my day, Sylph though to himself as he tried not to watch Darling's swaying curves. First, they get the wrong package, then he gets lost in this stupid artificial hive. After finally finding the right place, that creepy freak, Fang, pops up behind him out of no where and makes him almost scream in panic. To top it all off, Darling was walking towards him with a smirk on her face that meant she knew he was under her spell and found it funny. Hopefully soon he'd get to light something on fire.

"Don't you know it's not nice to sneak up on people?" Sylph asked. He tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracked too much for that. His eyes also struggled to leave Darling's body until she stopped. As soon as the hips stopped swaying, Sylph tried to turn and glare at Fang, only to find him missing.

"Yes," breathed the voice of death right next to his ear. "But it's so much fun." Sylph could hear the sadistic smile as Fang spoke. He quickly jumped away, skin crawling and knees shaking slightly.

"H- How about y-you two circle around and make sure this is the only door?" Sylph stammered as blood slowly returned to his face. Darling chuckled again, softly.

"Thet's no' a bed oidea," Darling said, pointing down the other hall. "Wei haven' gone dan theis hall. Toothy, take poin'." Fang nodded, his face becoming the blank mask of business again.

Ivan poked Mr. Wong softly in the ribs again since he had fallen asleep. For the fourth time. The old man barely moved as he swatted at Ivan's large, cyber hand.

"What?" Mr. Wong groggily asked, "Why you wake? Dwone's ah pwogwammed to know what do and is bowing aht heah." He settled back into his seat, preparing to fall asleep for the fifth time.

"Da," the Russian replied. "I know is boring. Is too boring!" He sighed and continued reading a story he had pulled up.

Half tempted to let Darling take lead just so he could walk in the trail of her scent, Fang crouched and began following the wall again. Darling followed, only half paying attention to the hallway. After a few feet, the shadows has enveloped them completely. Their circuit didn't take too long, and Fang didn't see any hidden passages or notice any strange scent spikes.

They found Sylph braced against the wall, next to the glowing door. Fang could swear that the sickly green light and the horrible smell had both gotten stronger during the few minutes they took to check for other doors. He decided this wasn't a time to keep messing with the elf since he seemed pretty nervous. Darling's face had that usual smirk and he motioned that her usual tricks would be a bad idea right now. She frowned at him, but nodded. He thought her face was actually kinda cute when she pouted like that.

They both straightened up and stepped around the corner in plain view so they wouldn't startle Sylph. He looked over as they rounded the corner and visibly sighed in relief.

"The magic in the area has gone up drastically," Sylph said, his voice high and tight. "Whatever they're doing is going to finish soon."

Still upset over the fact that she couldn't mess with Sylph right now, she had to suppress a shiver and a smile when Fang grinned. She was about to finally see him in action and couldn't wait. Darling cleared her throat, trying to maintain an appropriately business-like appearance.

"So, do weh went a plen," she asked, drawing a pair of sharp knives. "Oa' ah weh jis' gonna run in thair an' keill 'em?"

"I'm fine making it up as I go," again, she had to fight and keep the smile from her face when Fang spoke, especially since his voice had taken on a darker tone. Sylph nodded and took cover next to the door, hand on the handle. Darling took the other side while Fang stood right in front of it. He pulled out a small ball and wrapped a short length of monofilament wire around it. Grinning slightly, he nodded to Sylph, who threw open the door.

It was all a blur for Sylph. This was the first time he'd dealt with something that had such a strong passive aura. The first time he'd dealt with something that just felt so wrong, too. His heart was pounding in his chest, ears thudding with the force, as he threw open the door.

With a flick of his wrist, Fang sliced the ball cleanly in half and tossed the two halves in. Seconds later, a thick wall of dark smoke billowed out of the doorway while he strolled right in. Sylph shared a quick look with Darling, his face was one of shock and confusion while hers was one of excitement and interest. Twirling her knives, she rushed in after Fang. After a few heart-pounding seconds and a number of bodies dropping to the ground, Sylph finally decided to breach the room with his team mates.

He entered the room and covered it with his pistol as the smoke began to clear. Instead of a fight, what he saw in front of him was a number of half-clothed old men of varying metatypes lying on the group in varying degrees of dismemberment. The oppressive aura was also dissipating. Fang flicked the blood off of his monofilament whip and reeled it back in while Darling wiped her knives on a relatively clean bit of cloth.

Darling stood up, sheathed her blades and sauntered over to Sylph.

"Thenks foh theh heilp, stud," she purred, gently caressing his cheek while she walked into the hallway. Fang merely chuckled at Sylph's increasing blush as he picked up the strange artifact, which was glowing a faint sickly green. He slipped the device into one of his large coat pockets and strolled out after Darling.

Ivan had almost finished his story when Mr. Wong sat up and looked toward the far end of the building. Walking towards them were their three team members. The back opened up when the three got close and they piled in.

"We have the device," Fang said calmly, eying Darling curiously as she leaned against him.

"End Seilph heah took ou' aallll eigh' of 'em!" Darling declared, leaning forward slightly, opening her coat back up. Sylph was about to protest but began stammering incoherently when Darling winked at him. Mr. Wong and Ivan both chuckled. After all the drones were loaded up, they drove back to the warehouse where they were to deliver the device.

Ms. Johnson was waiting in the same spot with the same body guard when they arrived. Someone had cleaned up the shards of the container and the scattered lunch, though. There was also a small duffel bag sitting at her feet.

"Got it this time?" She asked exasperatedly, holding out her hand. Fang walked up and placed the device in her outstretched hand. She smiled as she saw the device. At a motion from her, the bodyguard dispersed credsticks to the team. Everyone saw the full amount when they slotted it.

"You may want to back away a bit," she said, reaching into the duffel bag and pulling out a small explosive. She attached the explosive to the strange device and tossed it to the far end if the warehouse. Everyone from the team took cover behind Mr. Wong's van while she detonated the explosive remotely. The only thing left was a black smear on the ground where the amalgamation had been sitting.

"So, na wut?" Darling asked, holding on to Fang's arm. For once, he didn't seem to mind.

"I have noodoe caht to wun," Mr. Wong replied, climbing back into his van. "I can give Squassy-man a ride, though." Ivan shrugged and squeezed into the driver's seat. The van headed off towards the Runner's Rest. Fang and Darling wandered off in the other direction. Ms. Johnson left through a staff access door with her bodyguard in toe. Thinking that Seattle wasn't the best place for him, Sylph decided to head towards the airport and a return to the Tir.