Authors Note: Hi friends. Thanks to those who are reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it! As I mentioned before, this fic is a very adult take on a disastrous mission. The Planeteers are mostly in their mid-twenties (except Ma-Ti, obviously). They're not teenagers anymore. I love dark-fic and this will depart substantially from the goodness and innocence we know from the cartoon. The opportunity has always been there with CP. Please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Special thanks to Miss Mango and Becks7 for reviewing each chapter, as well as my guest reviewer and RRL24 :-) You guys are awesome and make me want to keep going.

Only Shadows Ahead

Chapter Seven

"Doctor?"

Barbara Blight's giggles assaulted MAL's sensitive hardware and he frowned, glaring at his master. Intelligent as he was, MAL simply didn't understand the dynamics of human peer bonding. MAL had designated himself a gender at the point of creation. He identified as male but even that minor decision left him unable to compute the activity currently going on in Doctor Blight's hot-tub.

"Ahem."

A set of pink, painted toe nails emerged from the bubbles and MAL craned his monitor down, watching the bubbles froth and part due to the waves created by his master and her friend. MAL wasn't impressed by her choice of play-mate. A muscle-bound ape with a crew-cut and a guttural accent, he assumed Mr Kroi was Slavic - perhaps Ukrainian or Bulgarian judging by the accent.

"DOCTOR BLIGHT!"

"WHAT?" she cursed, spluttering as she broke through the white froth and glared back at the monitor, her hair wet and plastering her face.

"We have a complication."

"And what would that be?" She smiled as Kroi submerged from the water, leaning back against the tub and reaching for a glass of wine.

"Your software has fallen into some unexpected hands."

"And who's hands would they be?"

"Our little blonde friend."

Blight stopped her ministrations for a moment, pulling her knees up to her chest as she regarded MAL curiously. "How did she get it?"

"Took it off Sludge."

"Should I be worried?" Blight glanced towards the next room, knowing Argos Bleak was currently making preparations for a snatch and grab. "The plan is to…"

"She'll come to us, Doctor," MAL grinned. "I'll lay enough online breadcrumbs to ensure she knows your location."

"Says the spider to the fly," she spoke in a low tone, delighted at the unexpected news. Blight blew the monitor a kiss, sending bubbles scattering through the air. "Love your work, MAL baby."

"I'll keep you updated, Doctor…"

But Blight had already descended under the water, pulling her plaything below the surface with her.

Orange and pink hues greeted them on their touchdown on Hope Island. After three months away, their home had put on a spectacular sunset for them. Gi swung the door open of the Geo-Cruiser and breathed in the sand and salt. The effects were instantaneous: the tension in her neck and shoulders (as well as the persistent tiredness) simply drifted away.

Gi followed Wheeler out, giggling as he threw himself theatrically down onto the ground and began making sand angels with his arms and legs. She sat beside him, hugging her knees to her chest and looking out across the bay with a smile.

"Good to be home?"

Wheeler stretched and sat up. "Hell, yeah."

"Catch!"

Ma-Ti's warning was not fast enough. Wheeler's travel bag was launched out of the Geo-Cruiser and it clipped the unsuspecting Fire Planeteer across the head.

"Ow," he groaned, finding himself sprawled out on the cooling sand again. Gi's bag followed shortly after, however she did a much better job of receiving it.

Linka stepped out carefully: her bag hauled over one shoulder and Sludge's laptop balanced across her other arm. She barely looked up from the screen as she crossed the sand towards her hut, weaving an unsteady path no doubt due to her inability to see where she was going.

Gi watched her go, aware of the fact that her attention had been on the monitor for the entirety of the trip home.

"Has Sludge written an enthralling romance novel or something?" Gi queried, glancing at Wheeler as he hauled himself up into a sitting position and tossed his bag aside.

"I seriously doubt Sludge can even write his own name," he commented drily. "Nah, something about a weird file she found."

"Oh."

"You comin' for a swim?" he asked as he drew his t-shirt over his head, suddenly eager to hit the water before the last of the light departed. Kwame and Ma-Ti headed towards the common room, chatting quietly as Gi considered his offer.

"Sure, why not," she said. "I'll be down in five minutes."

"Sweet," he remarked. Picking up his bag, he ambled towards his own hut with a slight spring in his step, evidently glad to be home.

Gi smiled as she gazed out at the bay. She caught a glimpse of Gaia's form in the distance; her mauve dress flowing in the breeze. The spirit was bent over at the waist, tending to a small outcrop of shrubs that had sprung up near the rock wall. Gaia straightened and raised her hand in greeting and the Water Planeteer waved back.

Gathering her things, Gi pushed herself to her feet and walked the short path to her hut, intent on locating her swimming costume.

It was 9pm.

The common room was dark, save for the glow emanating from the television. Wheeler had stretched himself out on the couch and was struggling to find something decent to watch. The reception on Hope Island was pretty ordinary but he persevered, flicking between channels until he found a delayed telecast of a basketball game.

Tossing the remote aside Wheeler flung his arm over his face, content to simply relax with some background noise for company. The seclusion didn't last long however as his ears pricked at the sound of bare feet padding the tiles behind him.

Opening his eyes, a sheath of long blonde hair passed his vision; it's owner dressed in a floral cami and matching shorts. The ever-present lap-top was still clutched in her hands.

Linka dropped onto the single seater to Wheeler's left, curling her feet underneath her body and barely looking up. He doubted she even knew he was there.

He sat watching her for a while as she concentrated on the task at hand; a slight frown on her lovely face. Her teeth pressed upon her bottom lip and her fingers worked tirelessly over the keyboard. Wide, green eyes were illuminated by the light of the monitor, offset by long lashes and delicate ears.

"Hey," he said softly, and she glanced up with a surprised look on her face. "Sludge's browsing history can't be that interesting."

"I did not notice you," she said with a smile, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the computer. "There is a file here that is troubling me."

"Yeah, we all gathered that," he replied, pulling himself up into a sitting position. "Sludge family home movies? Lost Kennedy assassination tapes?"

Linka chuckled, shaking her head. She rose to her feet suddenly and covered the distance between them; sinking down onto the plush cushions beside him. Her hair fell about her face in loose waves.

Her shampoo overwhelmed him and he leaned in closer - more to immerse himself in the scent of her skin and hair as opposed to viewing the bulky lap-top she had placed across both their laps.

"Here," she said, pointing at the screen. "I think this is the reason why emergency services have been so slow to respond during some of our eco alerts."

"Whadya' mean?" Wheeler frowned, unable to make heads or tails of the complicated sequence of data filling the screen. "I see nothin' but mumbo-jumbo."

Linka sighed, entering a series of commands into the DOS prompt. The screen faded, replaced by the Department of Homeland Security screen.

Wheeler narrowed his eyes, still not quite understanding. "Okay. That's great if I have a research project due on the DHS —"

"Nyet, Yankee," Linka explained, tapping the monitor. "This is not the web page. This is the server itself. This software allows access to a variety of government agencies. Confidential files, arrest records, traffic cameras, drug hauls, military bases… even police and emergency radio frequencies. This "SAIP" file is a highly evolved program and I believe it is self aware. It is frightening."

"Self aware? You mean…" Wheeler fumbled for a moment, struggling to find the words. "You mean, like MAL?"

"Da," she nodded, flexing her fingers over the keyboard and tapping another set of commands into the prompt. Linka gestured towards the screen and Wheeler leaned forward, finding himself looking at the intranet for the National Security Complex in Oak Ridge, Tennessee.

"Wheeler, this is where they stockpile uranium… atomic bombs. This program allowed me to walk right in. It took me ten seconds to break through the firewall for the FBI database."

"They can't like… take money or nuclear weapons and stuff, can they?"

"Nyet, I do not think so. There seem to be parameters built in. The most they can do is access inventory and interfere with things. Transfer products. There are restrictions. But I do not know… it may only be a matter of time."

"Geez," Wheeler muttered, meeting her eyes. She looked tense and nervous, a rare combination of emotions. He slung an arm around her shoulders, keeping his eyes trained on the monitor. "Look, the file's with us now. Not a lot Sludge can do from behind bars."

"Kwame said he overheard Sludge mention that he had received something from Blight. I am wondering if she has been selling this software… maybe others have already purchased it?" Linka sighed, rubbing her face and leaning back against him. "Bozhe moy. Maybe I am over-thinking this."

Wheeler turned his head to the side and regarded her with raised eyebrows. "Maybe you're just tired after chasing down asshole criminals day-in and day-out."

"Hmm," she answered, yawning slightly. There were dark circles under her eyes. "That is a possibility."

They sat in a companionable silence for a while, the sound of the sports commentators intermingled with the rhythmic tapping of Linka's fingers on the keyboard.

Wheeler settled his eyes on the game again, enjoying both her company and the fact that she hadn't removed herself from his loose embrace. He watched the last half of the LA Lakers as they annihilated the Chicago Bulls, risking sneaky glances at her from time to time.

Opportunities like this were few and far between. She still took his breath away. No other girl had even come close to having such a lasting effect on him, but she seemed to be holding out. They'd reached a stalemate and he was powerless to do anything about it.

As the post-game commentary wrapped up, he felt increased pressure on his ribs and he turned, glancing at his colleague. Linka was now slumped against his side, fast asleep. Her head lolled against his shoulder and her lips were slightly parted, breathing steadily; her palms resting on top of the keyboard.

Wheeler felt a strong surge of affection for her; his feelings undiminished even after seven years. Time had only enhanced Linka's physical appearance. She was gorgeous at sixteen, but had matured into a stunningly beautiful woman, all curves and softness but with a razor-sharp wit and intimidating intelligence.

He shifted, glancing down at her hand as it slipped off the computer — now laying palm up over his thigh. Slender, delicate fingers twitched every few moments.

"Okay," he murmured, switching the TV off and prizing the laptop away from her other hand. Rising to his feet, he slipped his arms beneath her back and legs. He hauled her up off the couch, readjusting her weight until she was settled in his arms, resting comfortably against his chest.

Carrying her out, Wheeler moved swiftly through the twisting path between living quarters. Reaching her hut, he nudged the door open and manouvered her inside carefully.

Her bed was made; sheets tucked in with an almost military precision, and for a moment he struggled with the semantics of peeling the bed linen away without dropping her. It took three attempts before he succeeded. Placing her on the mattress, Linka mumbled something and turned over with a sigh, curling into a foetal position as he tucked the sheets around her body.

Wheeler stood quietly, watching her fall easily back into sleep. He gave her room a cursory look-over, noting the neat and orderly nature: a complete contradiction to the current state of his own hut. Text books lay in a pile on her desk and he peered at the contents of her dresser, touching the bottles of perfume and trinkets from their travels.

A small telescope stood by the window, aimed upwards towards the heavens. He touched the cold metal, for no other reason than the fact that he could. Very rarely did he ever have a reason (or permission) to enter Linka's hut and he found himself distracted by this precious insight into the complicated Russian.

His thoughts turned to the potential dressing-down he might receive in the morning and that snapped him back to reality.

"Night, gorgeous," he said softly, passing through the entrance and closing the door behind him.

Wheeler wandered back to his hut, head down and lost in thought - unaware of Gaia's presence; hidden and observing him fondly from behind the palm trees.

"Hello there."

Linka's eyes flew open. Her heart skipped a beat and she suddenly wondered if she had dreamed the voice. Bringing her hands to her face, she rubbed her eyes and rolled over onto her side.

"Hello, young lady."

She sat upright, frozen and uncomprehending. It was a voice she recognised. Shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and dropped to the floor, checking under her bed for a body to match the disembodied tones she'd heard again.

A scoff, followed by an annoyed mutter. "I'm not under there, sweetheart. But if you wish to play hide and seek, I'm keen."

"MAL?" Linka's mouth dropped open as she stared, uncomprehending. "Wait, how did you…"

"Oh, your little Asian friend brought me in about an hour ago. I was left discarded on the couch last night. I like your island, by the way. Very tropical."

Linka crept closer, staring in wonder and dropping into her chair. The laptop lay closed on her desk in front but the light was blinking on the hard drive, indicating that the system was on. She reached forward with trembling fingers but reconsidered, clasping her hands in her lap instead.

"You can open me. I'm not going to bite."

Linka looked around, suddenly nervous and wanting the other Planeteers on board for moral support. MAL was not exactly an entity to be trusted.

She pushed a subconscious request towards Ma-Ti and straightened, pulling open the monitor. Mal's green form grinned back at her.

"Ah, that's better." He grinned, regarding Linka curiously. "I must say, you certainly wake up a lot easier on the eye than my creator."

"Why are you here?" Linka demanded, crossing her arms across her chest and suddenly feeling very vulnerable. "What are you doing in Sludge's computer?"

"Technically, I'm not. Call me an echo. I'm part of the program Sludge purchased."

"And what has he purchased?"

MAL scoffed. "I think you already know the answer to that question. You seemed to navigate my files better than any of the other buyers."

"What?" Linka gaped at him. "There are other buyers?"

"Of course there are others." MAL rolled his eyes, as if the very question was preposterous. "Doctor Blight is a businesswoman, as well as an incredibly gifted…"

"Bozhe moy," Linka muttered. "Da, we all know of her gifts."

"Oh honey, you have no idea," MAL drawled. "Doctor Blight is…"

"How many people have bought this program?"

MAL blinked. "Three. Only one seems to be using it to it's full potential, though."

"What do you mean?"

MAL smirked, pulling up a news report from the internet dated yesterday and displaying it on screen. "Whoops… it appears a police shipment of black-market guns has gone missing from the depository. Silly humans."

Linka stared at the news headline, doing her best to ignore MAL's smug face. "How long has this software been available?"

"Three weeks. Blight has another two buyers lined up with version 1.8. That'll definitely keep you pests on your toes."

Linka leaned in close, narrowing her eyes at the sentient program. "Then we'll find them and wipe every trace…"

MAL yawned, as if he were already bored of the conversation. "Good luck. Destroying the original file would be the only option. The pathways are controlled by the mainframe from cyberspace."

"The mainframe? You mean…"

"Oh look," MAL said in wonder, glancing down. "Low battery. Don't suppose you stole Sludge's power cord while you were pinching his computer."

"Dyermo," Linka swore, standing and looking for her own power cord. She already knew it was a useless exercise: her Apple MacBook cord didn't have a hope of fitting Sludge's generic power needs.

"Nice chatting to you, Blondie. See ya around," MAL grinned. His image dimmed somewhat, before fading completely. The system powered down and the screen was soon blank. Drained.

Linka clutched the back of her chair tightly, feeling deeply unsettled. Turning, she gazed at the other four Planeteers who had assembled at her first request for help. They had stayed out of MAL's field of vision, perched silently on her bed or sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"You heard all of that?" Linka asked worriedly.

Kwame nodded. "Most of it. It is concerning, to say the least. What did he mean by 'destroying the mainframe'?"

Linka sighed, sinking into her chair and touching the flash drive on her desk. "It means I would have to destroy the original file… MAL."

"Can you do that?" Gi asked, genuinely curious.

She shook her head. "Nyet. It is too far reaching. Something, maybe a virus would need to be developed. I would need to study MAL's design further." She tapped Sludge's laptop and gave them a small smile. "At least I have a starting point, though."

"In the meantime, perhaps we need to track down Blight's buyers…" Gi frowned, playing with the buttons on her night shirt. "I'd prefer to be proactive about this rather than wait for the next mess they cause. Our lives are going to get a lot harder if we don't act."

"Blight's not going to tell us," Kwame said, his brown eyes reflecting the frustration they all felt.

"Then we stick a ring in her face and ask her real nicely," Wheeler muttered. He jumped to his feet, heading out the door with the others falling in behind. "I swear to God… sometimes I wonder if we're just continually chasin' our tails with these idiots."

Kwame nodded. "I have had the same feeling, lately. Fifteen minutes, people."

With that, the Planeteers scurried in different directions, readying themselves for yet another mission.