(A/N) Once again, it's update time! Really glad to see all the positive feedback we've been getting from everyone out there. Hitting 500 views in two and a half weeks is pretty damn rewarding. We'd like to thank everyone who's stopped by to read this and in particular everyone who took that extra bit of time to type up a review. This chapter is written by the spectacular Maple Alycia Hood, from the POV of everyone's favourite lockpicker, Agent York himself. Hope you enjoy this. Next update is on Saturday, as usual. Expect something…different.


Chapter Four – Hit and Miss

Agent New York

Written by Maple Alycia Hood


"I like keeping my life open, and seeing what happens. It's more fun that way." – Camilla Belle.


"What's up guys, this is your hosts Jack and Geoff for tonight's Grifball Tournament Final stationed in sunny Austin, Texas, where we're getting ready for the biggest playoff since this game began. It's Team Majestic against Team Castle. I am so excited for this game, Geoff!"

"I know, man! This is gonna be amazing. There has been so much heat up to this point, it's hotter than the weather outside! Both teams have huge numbers of winning streaks under their belts, so it's all down to this very match."

Just because New York - by this point, since that was his new codename – was on board some kind of spaceship in the middle of nowhere, it didn't mean that he couldn't take the time to crash in the newly crowned recreation room and set up the nearby TV onto his favourite channel just in time for what was probably going to be the biggest Grifball match of the century. Majestic and Castle were his two favourite teams! Well, if he had to be brutally honest, he liked Majestic a little more. Right now, though, he was far more interested to see who would win, and what kind of carnage would be created during the game.

He sat at the very edge of the couch, arms resting across his lap, watching the picture in front of him with an intent expression as the two teams – Castle was red, Majestic was blue – gathered on the field, and the Grifball appeared in the center of the room. The commentators seemed excited, but nowhere near as excited as the brown haired man was. He'd even put his Grifball t-shirt on, along with a pair of black loose trousers and white sneakers. He was prepared for this. He was prepared for whatever the game threw at him.

"And here we have it! The start of the final game of this year's Grifball season!"

Someone was at the door, but…York, paid little attention. He was too engrossed in the starting game. Majestic's defence were already taking out that of Castle, but Castle's ball catcher had charged forward, grabbing the bomb and thus turning his armour the familiar orange that belonged to the namesake of the game. Damn, if only he knew where the guy was. He'd love to meet him sometime. Still, at this rate that was highly unlikely. York was in the middle of a secretive project, where it was highly unlikely that he'd get to go home again anytime soon. If the dude was even on Earth.

Things were getting hot in this game already. Defence members were slamming into each other, then were temporarily locked down, red or blue armoured players either falling straight to the ground or flying right away from the main source of action. The Grifball was constantly moving between players, so it was getting pretty hard to keep up with the game, but York just about managed. And if he couldn't, the commentators were giving the lowdown on which member had the ball, which member had made an awesome attack, and which member – or members – were so out for the count that they were on the other side of the court. This was probably the last bit of televised chaos that he'd get to watch in a good while.

"Oooh!" He couldn't help himself as one of the hammers of Majestic's defence slammed into the back of the Castle ball catcher and sent him straight down to the ground. The blue ball catcher rolled up the bomb and sprinted off towards the other goal, with red defence players hot on his heels. Swords came out this time, lashing out at anybody that even came close, as both teams tried desperately to hang onto the Grifball and score some points.

If only he had someone on this ship that had the same amount of passion for the game as he did. At this rate, York would be the only Freelancer who even liked the sport. He was pretty sure half of his teammates didn't actually know what it was, but he wouldn't bother them too much about it. If it came down to him being the only fan, that would be fine. Still, a couple of guys coming in to make a little noise when the goals came through would make this project entertaining, because so far all anyone ever talked about was fighting.

The Director most likely meant well, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the man was a little too strict. Sure, this was a secretive project, and they all had codenames and had practically had to leave their old lives behind. That didn't mean they couldn't at least try to be friends, right? They had to like each other to be able to work with each other, after all. He'd hate to be in a team full of people that were against each other. It wouldn't go down well at all. They could get themselves killed!

Freelancer. Project Freelancer. Freelancers were mercenaries. They weren't supposed to work in teams.

"So how exactly does this work?"

York nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of the voice. He glanced to the door to see the familiar redhead leaning against the frame, arms folded, a bemused smile on her face. Oddly enough, that was the very question he'd been asking himself in his head, but she was most likely talking about the game. He did his best charming grin in response, but she didn't seem too interested. Hard to get, huh? Well, he could at least try his luck. Her state name was Carolina, if he remembered correctly. He had to admit, he sure liked Carolina.

"Basically, there's the Grifball in the center, both teams try to get it to the opposite goal, first team to do that ten times is the winner." He explained as he looked back to make sure he hadn't missed anything. This final was important, after all. "Things are made interesting with the hammers and the swords, but obviously they're not lethal."

Majestic's ball catcher pushed the Castle goalkeeper out of the way, jumping up and slamming the bomb into the goal, but he was quick to move away from the Grifball as it exploded and sent everyone flying backwards, only to land in catlike poses. They'd had plenty of practice when it came to exploding bombs, it seemed.

"Oh, and the bomb explodes when it reaches the goal." York added as an afterthought.

"You don't say." Carolina replied in an offhanded voice. The brown haired man looked to her again, deciding to play a little more dangerously. He knew this woman was quite capable of kicking his ass whenever and wherever she felt like it, but she was a beautiful lady. It couldn't hurt to try, right? A small comment wouldn't warrant an ass kicking, surely?

"Hey, uh... why don't you stick around for a bit? Maybe watch some of the game with me?" He offered, leaning back and resting one leg over the other, extending one of his arms to lie over the top of the sofa. The other Freelancer's smirk widened slightly and she looked away.

"Actually, I have better things to do." She answered, turning her back and beginning to walk out of the room, but it seemed like she wasn't done talking yet. "Like getting some work done around here, unlike some people."

Ouch. That was one fiery woman. Spirited woman always had something about them that he loved perhaps a little too much. Okay, so that hadn't gone down too well. York wouldn't let that dishearten him, though. Nothing would dampen his content mood right now. There were plenty of other times to see if Carolina held any sort of feelings for, well, anyone. But yes, he did find himself liking the bright red haired woman, even if she had rejected him at the moment. He liked her even more than-

"Oh, and that's an amazing score by Castle!"

"WHAT?!"

Well, okay, maybe he liked Carolina and Grifball in equal amounts.