RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block Vanguard Europe #3: Oktoberfest!

Doc Paragon's deep, rich voice sounded throughout the meeting room. "Team, this assignment is going to be very dangerous." His face was unusually somber. His tone, one of concern. "It's going to make your last two missions look like taking children to daycare."

The Vanguard Europe field team looked at each other, beginning to show signs of worry. "Just what is this mission, Doc?" Drake Marshall finally spoke up.

"I thought you'd never ask." Paragon's face resumed his normal, cheerful demeanor. "You're going to Oktoberfest!"

Drake looked around. "Ocktoberfest? Like when Hops has that deal on beers for a whole month?"

Lykopis rolled her eyes. She was sitting across from Ozzy in a green sundress, still trying to figure out who had taken pictures of her passed out in Paragon's lobby. "Ocktoberfest is Munich's biggest festival. The world's largest fair, actually. It started in..." Lykopis tried to remember the date. "1810."

Icarus grinned. "Were you there?"

"No. I was in Spain. But I have been to about twelve of them over the years. There are beer tents, music, rides, games, shows --"

"Wait," said Ozzy. "The whole festival is dedicated to alcohol?"

"The Marzen is a little darker and richer than the normal brew." Lykopis found this all amusing. "Plus there is sausage and sauerkrat..." The men began getting up and pushing their chairs back in place. "Where are you going? I was not done yet."

*** *** ***

Penny watched the mass of bodies as Vanguard made their way out of meeting room and into the lobby. Ozzy and Icarus were in the lead, followed by Drake, taking on his cell phone. "Look, Jessica, Paragon's called another business meeting. Yeah. I don't know what time I'll get home."

Following Drake were Guant, Lykopis, and Adem. Lykopis was trying to explain sauerkrat to Adem. "Actually, I cannot stand that food...it taste like bad lettuce..."

They were out of the building, still walking fast. Paragon shut the meeting room doors and walked to Penny's desk. "You're looking amused," she said.

Paragon chuckled. "I'm not done yet."

"Oh?"

"Penny, how many hours have you clocked in this week?"

"Thirty-five."

"Mhhh. It's only Tuesday, you know. I have an assignment for you." Any other secretary would have pulled out her pencil and pen. Penny didn't need those. "Go with them to the festival."

Penny's eyebrow lifted. "Pardon?"

Paragon was still grinning. "You heard me. You're spending too much time here."

"But I like--"

"That's not the point, Penny. Keep working overtime and I'll be unable to afford to pay you."

"But I have things to do--"

{Actually, I can cover for you today}

Penny turned towards the computer screen. "Shut up, Jym!"

"So it's settled?" Penny looked panic-stricken. "You better catch up with them, or I swear, Miss Goodweather, you're sacked."

Penny darted out of the lobby as fast as her heels could carry her. She was halfway down the block when she paniced and ran back inside. Paragon was holding her jacket and purse.

"Thanksalot." She was talking as fast as possible. "ParagonIalreadymadeyourdentistappoitment. Jymthepayrollisfiledundermyscreennamejustusemypassword. McGregorrequestedfivedaysoffjustaskJymtocalltoconfirmit. IcarusandLykopisbothhavetofilloutthemedicalreleaseformwhentheygetback--"

"PENNY!"

Penny scrambled to put the jacket on and button it up. She grabbed her purse. "Yessir! Leaving, sir!"

The bus came to a stop with a hiss of brakes, the doors folding open...

"...what a lovely bus..." Adem commented, the Vanguardians stepping off onto the sidewalk.

"You're a weird cat...." Icarus commented to Adem.

The bus pulled away, as the seven figures made their way towards the enormous tents and Ferris wheels rising over the landscape.

"Hallelujah!!" Ozzy sang out, staring at the wide spectacle beginning to spread before them. "I have seen the light my brothers! Can I get an 'AMEN!'?"

"AMEN!" Icarus and Drake yelled together.

All three chuckled, Adem cocking an eyebrow with amusement at the response. Even Lykopis grinned.

Today, everyone was in a good mood.

Gaunt's expression remained stolid as usual. However, that just meant that he was also in a pleasant mood.

"Okay, here are your passes...." Penny began, handing out everyone's hanging badge. "...now, please, for the sake of the company, and Mr. Paragon himself, please don't get thrown into jail today...."

"Doctor." Adem said.

"What?" Penny turned to him.

"Doctor. It is 'Doctor' Paragon. You called him 'Mister'."

Penny stared at him a bit mystified.

"He lets me call him 'Mister'...Mr. Different..."

"Curious, that..." Gaunt added.

"What?" Penny turned to him, everyone still striding up the main sidewalk towards the entrance. The crowds of people were beginning to get thicker, the noise rising in unison.

"As long as I have known William, he has required to be addressed as 'Doctor'..." Edmund replied, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"But, he let's Penny call him 'Mister'..." Drake said.

"That's my point."

"Oooooh....." Icarus nodded with an evil smile. "....the Doctor's got a girlfriend..."

"How dare you?!" Penny snapped at Icarus with a modicum of insult.

"This is a business, you know, Sidewinder.....Ms. Goodweather here could sue you for that remark..."

"Oh, jeezus, she knows I'm just thumping-her-tits a bit..." Sidewinder laughed, walking on.

Penny's mouth was now wide with a mix of anger, shock, and embarrassment.

"...thumping....my....'tits'...?!" she half-gasped, beginning to stride faster to catch up with him.

"What?" Icarus asked. "It's an expression!"

"Shall I neuter him for you?" Lykopis asked, suddenly pulling a small blade from her cleavage.

Drake quickly grabbed the blade from her.

"Criste' Lykopis!" he snorted. "We're off-duty and in a public arena..."

"I don't understand..."

"...thump my tits...?!" Penny said again, striding right next to Icarus.

"Would you rather I say 'pinched your nipple'?" Icarus continued, with an evil smirk.

"...ten bucks says she hits him..." Ozzy commented to Adem.

"No weapons around civilians." Drake explained, quickly tossing the dagger into a trash can as they passed. "This is not a battlefield."

"Which one?" Adem countered.

"We are always on a battlefield..." Lykopis countered.

"...here we go..." Gaunt sighed.

"Mister Sidewinder, if you do not wish to get assigned escorting a small coast guard ship somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico, I would suggest you watch you damn mouth!"

"And how would that happen, eh?" Sidewinder countered. "You going to tell your boyfriend on me?"

"There are just some places that you do not take concealed weapons, Lykopis..." Marshall tried to explain. "...the gathering of a few thousand intoxicated civilians is one of them..."

"Right, that's it! Give me your pass!" Penny demanded, reaching for the pass around Icarus' neck.

"I would think surrounding yourself with a few thousand intoxicated civilians would require carrying a defensive weapon...." Lykopis replied.

"...I really like her sundress, don't you?" Ozzy commented to Adem.

"Back off!" Icarus snarled, swiping her hands away from his neck.

"She makes a valid point, Marshall." Gaunt added.

Drake looked at him with a wry grin, the scuffle between Penny and Icarus escalating in the background.

"<Passes, please...>" the guard at the front entrance spoke, everyone beginning to show their badges.

"<Pardon me, but, wouldn't you say, from experience, that it would be best if I were carrying concealed weapons on my person?>" Lykopis asked the guard.

The german man looked up at her...

"What? What did you just say to him?" Drake asked.

"She asked if it were okay to carry weapons in here...." Gaunt replied evenly.

"What?! Ha! No, no...." he tried to quickly explain in english to the guard. "....I mean....Gaunt, tell him she is joking..."

"<She is quite serious.>" Gaunt said to the guard in perfect dialect.

Lykopis smiled at him, Drake looking between the three. Behind him, Icarus and Penny were now physically struggling with each other.

"What did you say? What did you say?!" Drake asked with a hint of panic.

"<I mean, say there were a problem in here....some form of attack....>" Lykopis continued with the guard. "<....how would you defend yourself?>"

"Lykopis?!" Drake asked. "Gaunt?!"

"She is asking about the types of beer they have here...." Gaunt replied with a deadpan manner.

"Oh! Whew..." Drake sighed.

The guard continued to stare at them with a bizarre expression that only mirrored what he was thinking.

"<Well, madame, there are police and security patrolling the grounds of the festival...>" the guard explained. "<...however, if you are carrying any form of weapon, I must ask you to turn it over to me right now....>"

Drake looked up at Gaunt.

"He is asking for her telephone number...." Gaunt translated.

"Give it to me!" Penny yelled.

"Get off of me, bitch!" Icarus yelled back, struggling against her wiry, and suprisingly strong arms.

Lykopis stared down at the guard's five-foot-seven height, silent for a moment.

"<If you believe it absolutely neccessary...>" she replied. "<...still, I doubt the effiencency of security here...>"

"<I assure you, madame, we are trained to deal with any threat...>" the guard explained. "<...and, I doubt a woman of your stature has much to fear from anyone here...>"

Lykopis stopped, a small grin sliding over her face.

"<What is your name?>"

"<Bieter.>"

Her smile broadened, as she reached down, beginning to pull her dress up, revealing stunning bare legs....

"....niiiice..." Ozzy and Adem said in unison.

"<I am Lady Lykopis, Bieter....>"

.....and black belts wrapped tightly against her inner thighs that bore blades of various shapes and sizes.

"....niiiice...." Ozzy and Adem said again.

"<....and I will trust you to protect me this day.>" she continued, beginning to unbuckle the belts.

"Oh, Lykopis, for the love of...." Drake sighed at the sight of the weapons, slapping his hands down against his side and turning away in exasperation.

Behind the group, Penny finally yelled, taking Icarus down in a full-bodied tackle.

As Lykopis continued to disarm, Ozzy and Adem watched Icarus get his ass kicked by a girl.

"Heh..." Ozzy chuckled.

"What?" Adem asked.

"Oh...nothing...I'm just having fun....and we're not even drunk yet...."

"Come on, Adem, let's blow this joint." Ozzy and Adem continued walked towards the crowd, leaving the rest of the team behind.

Lykopis lowered her skirt. She turned to Gaunt and Drake. "I feel much lighter now." She looked at Penny, who was still trying to get the tag off Icarus' neck. Icarus, realizing that hitting a girl would probably result in someone publcially beating him to a pulp, had resigned. "Perhaps we should help..."

Drake was about to reply when he realized two of his team members were missing. "Where are they?"

*** *** ***

"Now, Adem, let me get you better aquainted with the Earth wonder known as alcohol."

Ozzy and Adem had found their way to one of the beer tents. Ozzy didn't speak German, but luckily, it seemed all the sellers could speak decent English. And they all understood the universal language of money. "I am familar with the substance. I had eggnog at the Christmas party in La Perdita."

Ozzy guzzled down his pint of some local brew. "Yeah. Like eggnog really counts. Here, try this. It's even better than a Bud."

"A bud? I thought I was your bud."

"Shut up and drink, you lanky ET." Ozzy gave that barmaid another Euro and took a mug of some dark foamy substance.

"It's not like I haven't had alcohol before. There's this planet where a lot of students go during their academic breaks."

"Sort of like Florida?"

"Yes, but without all the scary old people that drive too slow. Anyways, on that planet Hsekjhs --"

Ozzy stopped drinking. "That planet what?"

"Hsekjhs."

Ozzy tried to pronouce the word. "Hiskjer...hip...what the royal fuck just came out of your mouth."

"The planet is called Hsekjhs." He grinned and took another sip of the drink. "You need two tongues to pronounce it correctly."

"Well that's kinky."

Adem nodded. "You have no idea. Anyways, they make this amazing liquid that as soon as you take two sips all your problems just seem to vanish. You start seeing things, doing this, and everything's just so much fun." Adem stopped grining. "Of course, then you have nightmares about your toes missing or being knawed on by your pet jorjery. That part's not as fun..."

"Sounds like a nice trip..." Ozzy finished his drink and ordered another.

"Pardon me?" said a prissy voice with a German accent. Ozzy and Adem turned around. A young lady was standing next to them. Ozzy looked at her from head to toe. She had blonde hair and blue eyes and pale skin.

And clevage from Munich to Paris.

"Um..." said Ozzy. His voice cracked. "Can I...help you?"

"I am so sorry, but you look like ze men in ze newspaper. The Vanguard team?"

"Oh. Yeah, we're them. This is Adem, I'm Ozzy." Adem seemed just as captivated.

"Vonderful. I am Fraulein Mitzi Fuckenfrugen of the Munich Daily. I was zent here to cover ze Ocktoberfest." She sat down next to Ozzy. "But it iz so dull to cover the festival all alone. My sister Brunhild can't come until this evening, so I am all by me."

"You mean, 'all by myself'?"

Mitzi nodded. "That too."

Adem spoke next. "Well, it might not be safe for you to do your reporting alone. There might be pickpockets. Perhaps you should stick with us."

"Oh!" She kissed both men on the check. "Vonderful! Oh, and then Brunhild can come with us. You'll like her. She's 'the sezy one'. Shall we have some sausage?"

The Schottenhamel tent was abuzz with the lively atmosphere of alcoholic intake. It was the same general celebratory atmosphere you get from a nice, social bar, on a scale the size of a football field. Period-dressed barmaids lugged enormous, froth-topped glass steins, four-a-hand, expertly navigating the swaying flow of the crowd with a cheery disposition. It had only been half-an-hour since the mayor of Munich, Christian Ude, had tapped the traditional first keg, declaring "O’zapft is!” to start the world-famous festival...

"Damn...check the forearms on these women...." Ozzy commented, finally downing his second mug.

"They seem to be well-equipped for this line of work...." Adem replied, still sipping his first brew. Every so often he would, for no apparent reason, sniff the beer, as if waiting for it to suddenly go sour.

"So..." Mitzi asked, sitting between the men. "...vat is the purpose of Vanguard's presence today? Are you here for security reasons, or...."

"Let me tell you, Mitzi..." Ozzy began sincerly, a grave look of professionalism overcoming his face. "....we were sent here to make sure...without a doubt...that as much alcohol is consumed as humanly...."

He paused, looking at Adem sniffing his beer.

"...and as inhumanely as possible...." he continued. "Vanguard is dedicated in seeing that such a proud German tradition is never sullied by weak stomachs that cannot handle their fair share of beer. We strongly oppose not drinking, and will uphold the people of Munich's reputation of alcoholic consumption by drinking as much beer as we can, before passing out, and forcing someone to carry us home..."

"You honor my city with your bravery...." Mitzi nodded, her solemn expression matching Ozzy's serious tone.

It was a moment before Ozzy finally broke a smile, looking at the reporter with a wry grin.

"You realize I was being sarcastic, right?" he asked.

She half-grinned, never losing their eye-to-eye contact.

"...as was I...." she drolled.

Ozzy stared briefly, immediately bursting into a sheepish chuckle.

"Damn...egg on my face..."

"Why?", her voice responded, breaking into a light rendition of a stereotypical, mock-innocence. "Don't you know ve German women are everything you've ever seen in ze James Bond films?"

"Point taken...." Baxter nodded, turning to accept the new drink a barmaid had just set down for him. Adem continued to smell his beer more than actually drink.

"Now, vhy is Vanguard here?" she asked again.

"We're off-duty, if that's what you are getting at..." Baxter exlained. "...this is simlply downtime for us."

"Recooperation from ze 'Brood' epidemic, last week?"

Ozzy stopped, cocking his eye at her.

"How did you know about that?" Baxter asked. "I mean, I know the 'Brood' plague is public knowledge. But, Vanguard's part in that recovery operation was supposed to be played down in the media..."

"And it was..." Mitzi relplied. "....however, I have been a journalist since I vas eighteen. I know how to read between the lines."

Baxter looked at her with a studying glance.

"Now...you realize...everything I've said here today is strictly off-the-record, right?"

"Oh, of course, Ozzy..." she nodded. "...I, too, am simply here to enjoy myself."

Baxter stared at her a bit more, something uneasy settling in his gut. Mitzi smiled, but it did not make him feel any better.

"So, tell me...Adam, right?" she began, turning to Different.

"...'Ah-Dem', actually..." he replied, taking another deep inhale of his beer.

"Oh, of course, Adem..." she nodded. "...why do you keep smelling your drink? Is it not to your liking?"

"Oh, not at all. I find it a rather refreshing caliber of alcohol." he answered sincerly. "However, my olfactory system is severly advanced compared to humans....my people reach intoxication by sense of smell, rather than purely by taste or consumption."

"I zee..." she nodded, seemingly fascinated. "...and, how exactly does that work?"

As Different began to explain the science behind his biology, Baxter sat watching them, drinking in silence.

Something was wrong. He didn't know what, but, his gut feeling told him so. Usually, Baxter would barrel into any situation, his gut-instincts taking a backseat to impetuousness.

Unless he was in the ring. That was all instinct.

Maybe it was the beer. Maybe something about him had changed. He didn't know, nor did he care. Something was wrong.

Baxter pulled his cell phone from his pocket, hitting a few auto-dial buttons. He generally hated cell phones, finding them more of a nuisance than anything. Still, when Penny had assigned him a company cell, the first pre-programmed number that was set was, of course, the company line itself.

'You have reached the Munich office of Vanguard International, European Division....this is Jym. How may I direct your call?'

"Jym, this is Ozzy...."

'Hello Ozzy...how may I direct your call?'

"Listen, are you still linked to Adem right now?"

'I am always linked to Adem. It is the curse of my existence, you understand.'

"Do a quick scan of the three nearest bodies to him...." Baxter insisted quietly. "....specifically the female he is talking to at the moment...."

'What should I be scanning for?'

"Anything...unusual...."

'One moment...'

And, even as Adem continued to explain himself to Mitzi, a small blue light began blinking on his inside wrist, as Jym did a low-level bio-scan of each person near him.

"Well?" Ozzy asked, after a moment.

'Adem is .0000000067% poisoned with alcoholic intoxication, and rising.....you are .0000000098% poisoned with alcoholic intoxication, and rising.....and you will have severe gas later tonight, due to an intolerance in your system for barley....'

"Yeah, yeah...and the girl?"

'....the female is .0000000008% poisoned with alcoholic intoxication, as well as bearing slight blemishes to her lungs from light tobacco smoking.....she has three chicken pox scars lining her lower hip, slight lower back strain prevalent in 89% of human society, a cavity forming in the back, right cuspid...'

"Okay...okay....anything else?" Ozzy asked.

'...she is currently on her period....'

"...oh my god..." Ozzy grimaced, turning away from the phone in slight disgust.

'....and she is wearing a recording device....'

"...what?" Ozzy quickly snapped back to focus.

'...she is wearing a recordi---'

"Yeah, yeah, where?" he interrupted.

'It is strapped between her cleavage, wrapping around her back.'

Ozzy clicked the phone off, turning back to the two people next to him. He quickly clamped his palm against her back, immediately feeling the wire running along her back. This grabbed her attention, even as indestructible fingers began squeezing the wire, fraying the copper interior....crushing it...

"Vat are you doing?!" she exclaimed, trying to turn around, even as he held onto the wire.

"Fucking reporters!" Ozzy barked, finally feeling the wire snap. "It isn't enough that Paragon releases official statements to the press....you have to invade our privacy to get some kind of 'scoop', huh?!"

Her face immediately went rock-solid, staring at the man with disdain.

"You are news, just like anything else...." she snapped, quickly getting to her feet. "...just because you and your kind hide behind this pretense of helping, doesn't mean we trust you."

"And just because you nosy fuckers think you have a right to every facet of personal privacy, doesn't mean we have to surrender to your scrutiny!" Ozzy retorted.

Adem watched this, finally lifting his wrist to his mouth.

"...magnetic pulse, five decibel-meters....now..." he said to Jym.

A slight sizzle of sound, and Mitz yelped, trying to rip the tiny recording mic from the wiring of her bra. Even as she pulled the long cord out from her cleavage, a light drizzle of smoke came from the device.

The reporter fumed, knowing that she had lost everything that had been recorded.

"You have no right!" she snapped, trying not to bring attention to this little exchange.

Not that anyone noticed. The noise level in the tent was nearly deafening now.

"As much as you do, spying on us without our consent." Adem explained.

She looked between the two men, finally huffing with annoyance.

"I'm going to sue your company for everything you've got..." she hissed, walking quickly away.

"Fuck off!" Baxter yelled after her.

After a moment, he finally sat down with Adem, both men silent for a bit.

"Fuck off?" Adem began. "That's all you had?"

"Shut up."

"That's your big send-off? Fuck off?" Different continued. "Not 'Bring it', or, 'We'll see about that', or, even, 'I'll see you in court'...."

"Shut up, Adem..."

"...just Fuck Off, huh?"

Ozzy looked at Adem, the alien grinning a bit.

"...oh, sniff your beer...."

He'd gotten inside the festival. Don't ask him how he did it, but he was in... and that was the important thing. He'd managed to lose Penny eventually and, after that, had taken to wandering about the grounds, looking for a good spot to settle down, knock back a few pints, and troll for ass.

As he settled down to grab a pint of lager, he noticed a beautiful blond through the crowd and couldn't help but smile. Quite buxom with pouty lips, a gorgeous smile, and a succulent ass... yes, this one would be worth the pilot's time and efforts.

As he walked through the crowd, he began to hum a song in his head - the first song he could think of to meet his goal. "I smell like a hound... I'm lost in a crowd... I'm on the hunt, I'm after you!"

The girl began to walk away, not really noticing Icarus' advancement so much as moving on in her similar quest for beer. Icarus continued to follow, singing absently to himself.

"Something so fine... what is this line? I'm on the hunt, I'm after you! Something revived... something with wine... and I'm hungry like the wolf!"

Finally walking up behind the voluptuous blonde, who had made her way into one of the many tents for a sample of ale. Sneaking up behind her, the pilot tossed his own blonde hair (secretly imagining himself in a shampoo commercial) and leaned in close to the woman's ear.

"Guten tag, fraulein," he said as sexily as possible. "Sprechen Sie 'love'?"

The woman turned around, her vibrant blue eyes flashing as she laughed, prattling off something in German and turning back to the bar. If Icarus spoke German, he would realize that she was telling him that she was flattered, but taken.

One problem. Icarus Sidewinder does not speak fluent German.

"Whoa there, baby!" he said, holding up his hands and sinking into the barstool next to the woman beside him. "I only caught little bits and pieces of that. You're gonna have to slow that down a bit..."

The woman turned back, a bit perturbed this time, rattling on a bit longer and pointing to the other side of Sidewinder.

Icarus laughed cockily, pretending to understand. "Sure, baby. Sure."

Turning around, however, he found himself face-to-chest with a rather large, burly, not to mention hairy German man with his arms crossed and a none too happy expression on his face.

Icarus flashed a nervous smile and managed to get out the only German that he could think of at the moment.

"Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?"

The man swung his mammoth fist, which Icarus managed to duck skillfully, causing the man to punch a random barmaid. However, both men were quick to react as Icarus Sidewinder began tearing through the crowds of people, the jealous boyfriend in hot pursuit.

For the second time today, the prowling wolf had been reduced to the hunted jackrabbit.

Meanwhile, Ozzy and Adem continued drinking (or sniffing, respectively) their beverages as they saw Icarus Sidewinder bolt by in a blur, chased by a massive, irate German. Ozzy and Adem exchanged a silent glance and a moment of silence.

"Odds?" Ozzy asked.

"I reckon the pilot gets... oh, how would you say it? 'Fucked'."

Ozzy laughed. "Proper fucked?"

Adem stared confusedly as Ozzy continued laughing. Eventually, Ozzy noticed his friend was silent and staring at him in confusion. "Never mind," the boxer said, taking a sip of his beer. "Some other time, maybe..."

Drake Marshall exited a beer tent as Icarus shot past him, quickly followed by a large, burly German man. Drake twisted and turned, barely preventing his beer from spilling out across the ground.

"Was that Icarus?" He asked, putting a hand over his eyes and taking a sip.

"Drake?" Penny called from inside the tent. "Yeah, Penny?"

"They want to know if you want another Shlitzengrubel? I think?" She asked, looking back inside for confirmation.

"Oh, no, Penny. Fifteen is my limit. Hey, where's Gaunt?"

"What is it now, Marshall?" Gaunt's voice, subtly altered, but definitely Gaunt's, came from off to the side.

"Where are you?" Drake asked, after jumping a bit, startled by the voice.

"Over here. Around the side." Drake followed the voice to the shadowed side of the tent. "Where are you?"

"Right here." Marshall looked to his left, and saw a vague outline of a shadowy form take shape. Arms, legs, a head.

"What are you doing? We have the day off!"

Shadow lips formed and began to speak. "No, YOU have the day off. My duties as the Shadow Chancellor keep me busy at all times."

"What duties?" Marshall asked, taking another sip of beer as Icarus and his pursuer ran past again.

"Drake, currently in London, there is a crack in a sidewalk, leaking necromantic energy which is rotting away everything it comes into contact with."

"Are you being serious?" Marshall asked, as Penny joined him, and jumped at Gaunt's shadow form.

"Do you see that couple over there, just within the next tent?" Gaunt's shadow asked.

"You mean the bearded guy talking to the redhead with the great ra-Uh, I mean. . ." Marshall stammered, remembering Penny was now standing next to him.

"The man with the beard is tribal leader of a race of homo lupis. The redheaded "woman," Gaunt accented the word, as if signifying it was no woman at all, "is actually a warrior/priest of an ancient race that lives so far removed from humanity, that you have yet to encounter them in any form. You haven't even attempted to create legends to explain them."

"And just what are these people doing here?" Drake smirked, not sure what to believe, and what not to.

"I am currently attempting to negotiate a peace treaty between their two races."

Marshall laughed a bit. "You expect me to believe all this?" He gulped down some more beer.

"Do you expect the rest of us to believe you were once bonded to a fuzzy, white dragon?" Gaunt's form became slightly sharper, a touch more in focus at this.

Now Penny laughed, snorting out her beer.

". . .point. . ." Drake answered.

"Now, if you don't mind, my attention is currently scattered enough. . ." Gaunt's form receded back into the shadow on the side of the tent.

"Well, that was . . ." Penny began.

"Wasn't it, though?" Drake continued, draining his beer. "I'm gonna go find Ozzy and Adem. . ."

Oktoberfest wasn't really Tommy's scene. For one thing, he had only a smattering of German, and for another thing he really didn't like being around this much alcohol. It was tough enough staying on the wagon without having to be here, but he had a job to do and he knew what to do if he didn't like it. Besides, Vanguard Europe were supposed to be here, and Tommy had always wanted to meet them.

Getting in was easy, even if Tommy didn't have a pass. Nobody pays attention to a Pigeon flying around, and Tommy was good at pigeons. Not as good as he was at rats, but pretty good. Shifting back into his human form, he wandered around, looking for Günter, his contact. Unfortunately his search was hampered by an avoidance of the beer tents. He’d managed almost a year without the booze, but he didn't know what would happen if he got too close to it, so he stayed away. Then he saw them. A weird looking pair of people, one with a bug red beard and the other a woman, arguing quietly but intensely, in the shadow of one of the tents. Looking around, Tommy changed into a rat and headed closer. He wanted to find out what this was about...

Tommy Foxe in rat form, scurried into the shadows of the tent where Gaunt was carefully negotiating a treaty. He just as quickly found himself on the other side of the tent, emerging from a shadow in the tent.

Tommy lifted his head and looked around, sniffing the air. He entered the shadows again and again, heading around in circles. This is weird, he thought to himself.

Finding himself continually at a dead end, Tommy decided perhaps it was best he investigate something else.

Gaunt briefly turned away from the negotiations. "Is there a problem?" The bearded man asked.

"No, something briefly tripped my shadow maze. Don't worry, we'll not be disturbed. Continue. . ."

Penny and Drake were looking for Ozzy and Adem when Lykopis spotted them. She joined up with the two. "I saw Icarus, he looked like he was running --"

"Serves him right," said Penny. "Have you seen Adem or Ozzy?"

"A while back, but they looked like they were having enough fun on their own."

They walked on going through the crowd. Drake kicked the dirt. "Adem's friggin' tall. We should spot him in this crowd."

Lykopis walked forward in her usual panther-style. She turned her head back at Drake. "Last time I saw them, they were -- OOMP!" Lykopis's normally gracful gait was interrupted when she collided with another tall tourist. He turned around and looked at her. Her jaw dropped in surprise. "Oh my..."

The man grinned. "Lykopis?"

Lykopis grinned back sheepishly. "Todd? Of all the places to see you again..."

The man wrapped his arms around Lykopis and embraced her. It gave Drake and Penny a moment to look at him. He was roughly in his early forties, with graying temples and a handsome face. A black jacket and blue jeans hinted at an athletic body underneath.

"What bloody luck, catching you here at the fair! Still playing with stocks? Or have you gone on to something different?"

Lykopis shrugged. "I am into...international affairs now. We are based in Munich. Um, this is Drake Marshall and Penny Goodweather. This is Todd Briggs. He is a good friend of mine."

Briggs greeted the Vanguard team. "This girl is amazing. Who knew Microsoft would be such a great buy?"

Lykopis turned back to Briggs. "What are you doing here in Munich?"

"New job. I start with the Berlin Philharmonic next week." He pointed to a group of men nearby, buying rounds for the whole table. "That's part of the brass and strings section right there."

Lykopis saw confusion on Drake's and Penny's faces. "Todd plays the trombone."

"Briggs!" shouted one of the men. He was obviously America. "We've got a bet going on against the cello player. Get over here and kick his ass!"

Todd laughed and turned back to Lykopis. "Duty calls." He handed Lykopis his business card. "If you're ever in Berlin, give me a ring."

Drake and Penny looked at Lykopis. She had a very unusual look on her face. It wasn't quite a grin, but there was a small twitch of the lips as she folded the card and put it in her purse. Then it faded as she looked back at Drake and Penny. "Shall we continue?"

Drake led the search. "So who was that?" asked Penny, giggling. "He was very handsome."

"I told you. Todd Briggs."

Drake laughed. "Yeah, we got that part. And he plays the trombone. Anything else?"

Lykopis motioned for the two to sit down. "This will take about three rounds to explain." Lykopis had a barmaid bring several drinks for all three of them.

"Back in 1913 I knew a man named John Briggs. We were...quite in love with each other. He was an officer of the Royal Flying Corps -- which is now the RAF. We had been living in London for about five years when he got called off to war."

"World War I?" asked Penny.

Lykopis nodded. "He came back from the war with plenty of medals and honors. He was happy to see me. And then I left."

"What?!" shouted Penny and Drake at the same time. There had been no emotion in Lykopis's voice. "But you said you loved him."

"Yes. That is why I left." Drake and Penny were puzzled. Lykopis went on. "I developed this bad habit years ago. See, I have seen so many loved ones die. I have buried sisters, aunts, lovers, and husbands. I was so sick of all the death that I decided to work around death." Lykopis took a sip of her beer. "I just decided to quit while I was ahead. Leave while the man was still alive. That way, I would never have to deal with him dying on me."

Drake shrugged. "I suppose that makes sense. So what does that have to do with Mr. Trombone?"

Lykopis grinned. "Back in 1980s I discovered I had a talent for stocks. So I worked in London and New York. I was making thousands of dollars and pounds.

"Eventually, John Briggs and I made contact again on one of my London trips. He was retired by then, and his French wife had passed away back in the late sixties. I spent a lot of time managing his finacial affiars until he died in 1982."

Penny nodded. "So you broke your own rule?"

Lykopis made a sheepish smirk. "Yes. Granted, our relationship was not like the one we had before, but it was so nice to be near him again! I was there in the hospital when he passed away. I meet Todd at the funeral -- Todd was his grandson, you see. He was at Eton at the time, majoring in music. We had an affair for about eight months, and then I left. No reason to break the rule a second time, after all."

Drake slammed his beer down. "That's your look on life? 'Don't get too fond of things, because they all go away'?"

Lykopis remained calm. She simply took another sip of her drink. "And there is something wrong with that?" She shrugged. "I suppose that is why people think I am so cold."

Drake was still angry. "What about us? Will you leave as soon as you get too fond of us? How many months, Lykopis? You only gave him eight, and I'm sure we're worth less."

Now Lykopis was mad. She slammed her drink down as well. "Listen, boy, there is not an ounce of wisdom in your head that I did not aquire centuries ago. You ever think of the day when you have to bury that pretty little wife of yours? Or, Hera forbid, you outlive your own daughter? You think two deaths would be hard on you? Try two dozen men that swore to love you forever!"

Lykopis had been surprised by the power behind her own voice. Drake realized he had gone too far. "Look, I'm sorry, I really am."

Lykopis was trying not tear up. "It is just so much easier to go on that way. I just do better. Two thousand years of people I loved...two thousand years of learning how to forget all the sad memories." Lykopis folded the business card out. "It was pretty mean of me to leave Todd like that. I mean, I know perfectly well he will be dead in fifty years or so, and then it will not matter. But I suppose it matters now."

"You going to call him?" asked Penny.

Lykopis put the card back in her pocket. "I do not know."

"Hey chicks!" shouted Ozzy at Penny and Lykopis. "What's shakin'?"

Lykopis just grinned. It was perfectly fake. "Notihng. Just haveing a few laughs."

"In the bird?!" Baxter's body shook with a loud laughter, his fist banging against the table.

Drake was laughing just as hard, hovering against his half-empty mug. His face red from the strain, tears had begun to form in the corners of his eyes.

"I shit you not!" Marshall panted between chuckles.

"He couldn't find a better host?!" Ozzy pretty much yelled. Not that it was any louder than the crowds around them.

"Not from what I'm told....Bri didn't go into detail...." Drake motioned, trying to calm himself. "....she just said that Nobody---"

"...wait, who?" Ozzy interrupted.

"Zarch..."

"Oh, right...."

"...she said that he got to spend a few nights in Erasmus..." Drake explained. "I mean, I thought at first, the bird had 'em for a snack....but, she really meant in Erasmus...."

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Baxter chuckled, half from the intoxication. "God I wish I'd been around to see it...heh.....so, what body is he into this time? Wait....don't tell me he's woman now..."

"And what would be wrong with that?" Lykopis said evenly.

Ozzy paused, wrinkling his mouth.

"Hey...listen....do you mind?" Ozzy retorted with a faux-arrogance. "My boys are trying to catch me up, okay?"

"Hmph!" Lykopis grunted, returning a faux indignance.

"Stop interrupting..."

"No."

"Lykopis!" he exclaimed, holding his finger up at her in a hilariously threatening manner.

"Ha!...fine..." she retorted evily.

"Good..." Ozzy nodded, turning back to Drake.

"....I could crush you with my thumb, you know...."

"Bitch!" he yelled, turning back to her, slamming the table with his palm for effect.

The two suddenly started staring at each other with 'serious' eyes, this little game of theirs having gone on and off for the past couple of hours. And, getting shorter, the more alcohol they consumed.

"...two minutes....Ozzy..." Drake nodded to Adem, sitting right next to Baxter.

"One-minute, thirty seconds...Lykopis..." Adem countered.

"Five minueeze." Penny interjected, her words slurring a bit. "Ozzy."

"What the devil are you smoking, Penny?" Drake quipped. "Five minutes?"

"No?" Penny asked.

Lykopis and Ozzy continued to stare, their bodies still frozen in the exact same posture they were before starting.

Forty-seven seconds had passed.

"Ozzy has to go to the bathroom every three-minutes..." Adem added. "....five would be straining his childlike bladder..."

"Are we sure that's all that's childlike about him?" Drake asked coyly, cutting his eyes back and forth between Adem and the 'frozen' Ozzy.

"Do you not remember the loincloth on Darkworld?" Adem asked.

"Oooh...tell me about tha' loinclothee..." Penny said, leaning in.

"There's very 'little' to tell..." Drake smirked, still cutting his eyes back and forth, trying to rock Baxter's concentration.

"I have pictures." Adem nodded with a neutral face.

"From Darkworld?" Drake frowned.

"Jym." Adem nodded.

"Pictures?" Penny asked.

One-minute, ten...

"They are 'small' pictures." Adem replied.

"Ha!" Drake belted, falling into a light giggle.

"Pictures of a loincloth?" Penny looked back and forth.

Drake held his finger up in a pausing manner, blinking heavily to clear his somewhat foggy vision.

"Oswald...." he began very succinctly. "....has a terrible habit of...shall we say....losing his clothes during missions...."

Penny began giggling. Even Adem broke a smile.

Lykopis suddenly slammed her palm against the table, shouting "Blinked!"

"Dammit!" Ozzy banged the table with his fist.

"One-minute, twenty-seven seconds...." Drake said, looking at his watch.

Penny and Drake both forked over some euros to Adem, even as Ozzy rubbed his now-dry eyes.

"Weak..." Marshall shook his head at Baxter.

"Well if you bastards had shut the hell up while I was trying to focus..." Ozzy exclaimed, Penny and Drake falling into a quick laughter. "....and YOU..."

He turned to Adem, who was shuffling his money around on the table in a teasing effect.

"...you would bet against me?" Ozzy asked, acting hurt. "Et tu, silly alien?"

Adem stared directly at Ozzy, even as he continued shuffling the money on the table like a street-corner con-game.

"Everyone's money becomes mine." Adem replied, staring at him with his mouth wrinkling in the corner to form a grin. "Magic."

"Sing it." Lykopis stated, looking at Baxter with slanted eyes, matching a slanted grin.

"I'm NOT singing it again...." Baxter shook his head, taking a drink of probably his thirteenth beer.

"Sing it or pay me!" Lykopis demanded, raising her voice, and cocking an eyebrow.

"Goddammit, Lykopis...." Baxter sighed.

He finally rose to his feet, Drake and Penny raising their mugs to attention, in a mocking salute.

Lykopis mouthed the words 'Sing it' to Ozzy.

Ozzy mouthed the words 'I hate you' back at her.

And with that, Baxter ripped into a bellowing voice...

"AAAAHHHH BRITISH TAR IS A SOARING SOUL....AS FREE AS A MOUNTAIN BIRD...."

Drake and Penny swung their mugs back and forth in rhythym, Lykopis merely 'directed' her imaginary symphony with a swaying hand, perfectly pleased with herself. And, Baxter continued singing the entire ballad from the HMS Pinafore for the third time in the past two hours.

The first two times, the German crowd around the table had mostly laughed, and some turning to watch his performance. The second time, some had even cheered him with raised mugs at the end, even though they had no idea what he was singing. By this time, most of the groups of tables immediately cheered at the start of his song, raising their glasses like Drake and Penny, and tried to sing along.

The common man had no idea why this American continued to get up and sing at random intervals. They also did not care.

It was Oktoberfest. It was a festival, full of rides, thrills, and, most importantly, alcohol.

It was, simply, a joyous occasion, that required no logic...no explanations.

Just good friends...good beer....and even a good song....

At about that moment, a breathless Icarus Sidewinder ran up, absolutely exhausted. Quickly ducking behind Lykopis and Penny, he stayed frozen for a number of seconds.

"Uh... Icarus?" Drake said, craning his neck to attempt to see the pilot in his crouched position. "What exactly are you...?"

"Is he gone?" the pilot hissed, looking around nervously.

As he said it, the man who'd been chasing Icarus around the festival ran into the tent, a look of aggravated fury etched across his face.

"Who?" Lykopis asked as innocently as possible, while inadvertantly cracking a smile.

"That big German guy who you saw chasing me earlier," Icarus whispered, looking around him.

"What does he look like?" she asked, eyeing the man who'd just run into the tent.

"He's big," Icarus said in between panting breaths. "Really hairy, brainless, and I think he's wearing an orange polo shirt."

Lykopis smiled. A perfect match. Unseen by Icarus, who continued rattling off descriptors, Lykopis raised a finger, attempting to gain the man's attention.

She succeeded.

"And... why is he chasing you, pray tell?" she asked, her smile increasing.

By this point, the other team members were beginning to notice what was going on. Ozzy kept looking over his shoulder and back at Icarus, giggling like a small child. Drake covered his mouth to try to keep from busting out laughing. Penny, too drunk to be that discreet, began snorting as she laughed. Adem merely smiled as he leaned back to get what would be, from his perspective, the best possible view.

Noticing the group, the man smiled devillishly and began walking toward the direction indicated by Lykopis' pointing finger.

"Oh, I hit on his girlfriend," Icarus said innocently. "It's not like she spoke English or anything!" At about this time, he noticed the laughter of his teammates. "Oh, c'mon! It's not like you guys wouldn't do the same!"

The laughter continued. "I mean, I'm not hiding because I'm afraid or anything. Screw that! He's just a big prick who needed to be taught a lesson. I was afraid that if I faced him, I'd take him down too quickly, and I wouldn't want to subject his girlfriend to that! That's just heartless, y'know?"

Suddenly, Sidewinder's train of rambling thought was interrupted by a deep bass voice from behind him. "Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?"

His eyes widening, Icarus looked up to see the massive German standing over him. His glance shot over to Lykopis, who smiled triumphantly.

"Oh, you bitch!" Icarus said as he stood up and started to run again. The man was hot on his trail, his face red with anger and exertion.

"I won't forget this!" the pilot said as he ran off. A slight moment of silence hung over the Vanguardians' heads... and the five of them just burst out into laughter again.

Adem tapped the shoulder of the man sitting next to him in the tent. "<Hello,>" he said in German. "<I am a detective from an alien planet in a far off galaxy at the opposite edge of the universe. I am now making my home here on your planet and wish to use my skills in assisting humanity in the best way possible.>"

The man looked confused for a moment before saying, "<Crazy,>" and walking off to find himself a better seat.

Different turned back to the rest of the group. "See?" he said.

Drake grabbed his stein. "Indeed," he said before knocking back another drink.

"Howwwwww...," Penny said slowly, getting stuck on the 'w' for a bit, "did you do that?"

"I know little of your species' thought patterns," the alien began to explain as he leaned back in his seat to get comfortable. "I have been able to clearly see that most of your kind are set in their beliefs and unable to accept what may fall outside their realms no matter how real they may be. Look at my stature and my eyes. Obviously, they are not of the norm relative to my new environment. I give the logical and truthful explanation for that; yet, by the perceptions of those around me, I cannot be more than meta-human."

"Indeed," Drake said again taking another gulp of brew. Penny was slumped over the table with a look of amazement still on her face as though Adem had performed a great feat of magic like making the Statue of Liberty disappear or having the trains in London run on time.

Icarus fell onto Ozzy's shoulder and did his best to support himself and keep on his feet. In between great gasps for breath he managed to speak. "You...... bas....... tards." On weak legs he took off running again as his pursuer once again came near.

"Hey," Ozzy leaned over and whispered to Adem as everyone's attention had been caught by Icarus's unending race. "You .... uh.... you can drink a lot, right?"

The alien nodded. "My metabolism and physiology do allow for a greater resistance to the relatively minimal alcoholic content of these beverages. Plus, there are those millions of microscopic nanites in my system that filter and neutralize anything that prevents my body from working at full capacity."

"Yeah, yeah," Baxter smiled upon hearing this. His left eyelid had become lazy and drooped down. "Little robots in your blood. Good on ya. And you still have that money from Drake and Penny?" Adem nodded. "Alright. Let's go make us some more bank the good ole American way. Gambling." Different didn't seem interested. Normally, someone would try and lure a person into such a plan by hyping up the prospect of monetary gain. Ozzy knew better. "If you do it, I'll take you to a museum. No! Two museums." The boxer could see the alien lightening up to the idea. "And I'll wear lederhosen."

"Done."

Tommy had spent nearly an hour wandering around the tents trying to find something to do. The weird business with the shadows had deterred him from looking out for the usual crop of weirdoes that hung around such festivals, so now he was back to looking for Gunter. Naturally, the bloody gangster was nowhere to be found. What a surprise.

It didn't take Tommy long to identify Adem Different. The fact that he was very tall was probably part of the reason, but it wasn't just that. The guy had alien stamped all over him, and Tommy had spent years spotting aliens. 'Kay, some of them weren't technically real, but he'd dealt with those demons and didn't want to bring all that crap up again. Tommy looked around, then followed him. He wanted to see how this would pan out...

After a while, Tommy saw them entered a gambling tent. This was not good. Tommy knew the kind of guys that hung around the tents, and he'd probably pissed at least half of them off in his brief stay in Munich. Time to try something a little different. Stepping into the shadows, Tommy concentrated, and shifted. Not into an animal, but into a human. He kept it simple, changing his hair colour to blonde and his eyes to blue, but keeping everything else the same. He wasn't too worried about a fight, he'd spent enough time living rough to do that, but just in case he picked up an empty bottle and stashed it up his sleeve. Feeling prepared, he checked around once more and then headed in...

Lykopis took another drink. "Where is that bloody Gaunt?"

Penny began laughing. "Tehehehe! You said 'bloody'! You're so bad, Lyko-lyko...bitch." She placed a delicate finger on her mouth. "Oh, I said bitch. Oops, I did it again." She looked at Drake, her eyebrows fixed in a serious position over glazed eyes. "I always manage to fuck things up, don't I?"

Drake elbowed Lykopis. "Please tell me I'm not the only sober one here?"

Lykopis grinned and took a long gulp. "I never get that drunk. I have been drinking homemade wine since I was two. And that was a long time ago."

Drake rolled his eyes. "You're slurring a little."

"Oh I am a little tipsy." Lykopis hiccuped. Drake only groaned.

"Leave Ly-ly alone," said Penny.

"Ly-ly?" asked Lykopis. "I like that."

Penny immediately gave Lykopis a hug. "Yesssss! I shallllll call you Ly-ly, and you shall be myyyyyy Ly-ly!" It was apparent to Drake that Penny had just seen Finding Nemo recently.

Lykopis replyed with a hug of her own. "Antigone, you are such a wit!"

Penny looked up for a moment. "What did you call me, Ly-ly?"

"I said you were a wit, Penny."

"No, you called me something else." Lykopis wasn't grinning anymore. "You call me by someone else's name." Now Lykopis was looking annoyed. Or frightened, Drake couldn't tell. "Who's Antigone, Ly-Ly? Who's Ant--"

Lykopis pushed Penny's face away from her own. "Silence!" Lykopis was only trying to get Penny's mouth from shouting in her each, but the Amazon underestimated her power and pushed Penny clear off her seat. The secretary fell the ground, laughing.

"<Hello, pretty lady.>" Lykopis turned her head. Three drunk Germans were laughing and pointing at her. "<Show us your tits!>"

"I have been waiting for someone to say that all day!" She winked at Drake. "<Pig-nosed bastards!>" she shouted in Greek. "<You picked the wrong bitch to taunt today!>"

Lykopis jumped onto the table and bent her knees. The sundress began to ride up. She screemed some more in Greek before jumping off the table and landing on the nearest jerk. She didn't need any weapons. She was the weapon.

Drake looked around. Gaunt off doing his own thing. Ozzy and Adem gambling. Lykopis was already in a bar fight and it was only three in the afternoon. And Penny was still passed out on the dirt, laughing at some nonexistant joke!

"Alright! Gentlemen, the beer is on me"

Ozzy was enjoying himself. He'd been at the tables exactly half an hour, and already he had almost doubled their earnings. Adem sat slightly to one side, eyebrow raised in a strange combination of pleasure and curiosity. Whatever could be said of Ozzy's alien friend, he certainly knew how to keep his emotions unreadable.

Adem did not really understand gambling. The whole point as he saw it was to risk as much of your money as you could in order to get as much more money as you could. Surely, Adem reasoned, it would be simpler to work harder for extra bonuses? Still, Ozzy took a considerable amount of enjoyment in it, so Adem accepted it. With Ozzy, it was usually easier that way.

"Excuse Me, Mr. Baxter"
Ozzy turned, and found himself face to face with a hefty security guard. His accent was unmistakeably Germanic, but for all that he spoke perfect English, with a hint of menace inherent in his voice. Now, Ozzy decided, was probably a good time for heavy duty politeness
"My employer sends his regards, and asks you to return your winnings"
"What? Is something wrong?"
"My employer believes that your...friend the alien has been influencing the tables in order to make money. Please return your winnings"
Ozzy sighed.
"Look, there's been a mistake. Just 'cos he's an alien, don't mean he's got special powers. He's just a regular guy..."
Suddenly, another figure pushed past him, opening a briefcase apparently full of money. His blue eyes flashed with businesslike hurry
"I would like to apologise on behalf of my clients. Mr. Different is not familiar with the ways of earth fully as yet. How much do you want?"
The guard look surprised, unsure of how to react to this new figure
"1500 Deutschmarks. Look, who are you?"
"Randall Valion, Vanguard Europe PR Department. The money is in my briefcase. Now, Mr. Baxter, Mr. Different, I suggest we move along. Lots to do..."
Ozzy allowed himself to hustled towards the exit. Adem followed quizzically. Just as they headed towards the exit, Valion spoke softly.
"Now would be a good time to run, guys. That security dork should be realising I fobbed him off any second now. By the way, the name's Tommy Foxe, pleasure to meet you"
"What was all that Vanguard PR department stuff about then?"
Tommy laughed sourly
"Cover, boys. The Man that lunk was working for is a particularly nasty gangster in these parts, and believe me, you really don't want to piss him off"
Suddenly, Ozzy was aware of the guard shouting after them. He was yelling in German, but something about his tone told Ozzy that he wasn't too pleased.

"Maybe we should run..."

Ozzy, Adem, and Tommy quickly ducked behind a smaller tent, Foxe bringing them to a complete stop. Ozzy gained a slight snarl on his face, stepping up near the corner of the tent, ready to clothesline the bodyguards that were quickly coming...

"Wait..." Foxe said, stepping up.

Ozzy turned to question this stranger, when a strange squishing sound captured his attention. Muscle and sinew crawled over soft bones, as Foxe's facial structure, and overall body mass, shifted and rearranged accordingly. He quickly whipped out a fake badge....something someone with his skills and line of profession would carry...slapping it onto his belt...

The bodyguards ran around the corner of the tent, coming to a sudden stop. They looked on, panting breathless, as they came face to face with a tall, imposing security officer, holding the collars of Different and Baxter in a tight grip.

"Easy boys, easy...." this policeman spoke. "....what seems to be the problem?"

The bodyguards paused, looking at each other with uneasy glances. As they happened to be the bodyguards of a particularly ruthless, and criminal figure, they were uncertain of how to proceed.

"Ah...hello..." one began. "...we were wanting to have a word with these two fellows..."

"And why would that be, eh?" the officer asked, still holding Ozzy and Adem somewhat front-and-center, if only to hide his lack of policeman's uniform. "You wouldn't be...how should I say....'attached' to any of their illegal activities of today, would you?"

The bodyguards stiffened, one of them still looking around for Foxe.

"No...no, officer...of course not..." the first one attempted to smile. "...but, they have...taken...something of ours and..."

"Yes, well...you can come down to the station with me, if you want...fill out a report..." the officer nodded, beginning to lead the two Vanguardians away.

"No, no...I mean....not right now, thank you...." the bodyguard replied kindly. "...perhaps after the festivities."

The other bodyguard looked back around again.

"You didn't see where the other one went, did you?" he asked.

The police officer looked at him quizically.

"Other one? You mean there's more than these two, eh?" he asked. "Maybe you gentlemen should come with me to the station right now....we can sort out what's going on..."

"No! I mean....no, thank you....we'll just be on our way...officer....thank you..." the first one replied, motioning his companion on.

As the bodyguards left incredibly disgruntled, and still looking out for the blonde Foxe that had so cheated them, the officer lead Baxter and Different further away, to cover behind a far tent, near the Ferris Wheel.

"I think you can let go of my shirt now." Adem said.

The 'officer' smiled, releasing the two figures.

"Look....thanks and all...." Baxter nodded, straightening his simple tee-shirt back out from the bunch near his neck. "....but, who the hell are you? Did Paragon send you to watch us?"

"Heh...no..." Foxe shook his head. "...as I said, the name's Foxe. Tom Foxe. I'm...umm...how would you say it? Meta-for-hire?"

Adem and Ozzy looked at each other gaining an understanding.

"Ooooh....okay....you're a metahuman...." Baxter replied.

"Well, yeah, obviously mate...." Foxe said, a slight British accent clipping his words.

"What Ozzy means to express, is that you are a metahuman, and you wish to find employment..." Different remarked, studying the man with a sharp eye.

Foxe's eyes lit up, although he tried to act unimpressed.

"Well, I wouldn't turn down a nice income, you know..." he shrugged, looking around as if it were a passing thought.

Adem cocked an eyebrow.

"The grumbling noise from your stomach would suggest it were more than just a notion."

Foxe turned towards him, a bit taken back.

"...oh...yeah....sharp ear..." he admitted.

"So, you want a job with our company?" Baxter asked, folding his arms.

"With Vanguard? Bloody right." Foxe smiled.

"How do you know about Vanguard?" Adem asked.

Tom shrugged, running his hand through a flock of gray hair.

"Hey, in my circle of life, you hear things....you see things....you know things...."

"And what do you hear, see, and know about Vanguard?" Different countered.

Tommy looked at him with serious eyes.

"I hear you guys are professionals...." he began, earnestly. "...I've seen some of the copter footage they got when you blokes struck at the bugs last week..."

Ozzy and Adem glanced at each other.

"...and I know....I know..." he said, his voice gaining a strange respect. "....that you guys are all our people have to show the world that we aren't the bad guys...."

"Our people?" Ozzy frowned.

"Metahumans." Foxe stated with a sigh. "The downtrodden. The unloved. The bastard children of split atoms, and ugly genetics."

Baxter sighed deeply, Adem considering his words.

"What makes you think we could use you?" Ozzy asked.

"Use me?" Foxe asked incredulously. "I just saved your knickers from the fire, friend....at the risk of my own..."

Ozzy smiled.

"If you knew as much about me, or us, as you claim, you would know we didn't need you help."

Foxe stared at him, a slight anger building in his eyes.

"Fine. Sod off, then. Have your boys club." he stated, turning to walk away.

"First mistake." Adem suddenly stated, stopping Tom in his tracks.

"What?" Foxe asked, turning back towards them.

"I said...." Adem repeated. "...first mistake. Vanguardians never give up so easily...."

Tommy looked back and forth between them, a weird look coming over his face.

"...you mean....?" he began.

"He means....stick with us today...." Ozzy finally grinned. "...we might find a use for you after all..."

Foxe smiled a wide, toothy smile, accepting Baxter's handshake. He turned to shake Adem's hand, the alien not flinching.

"Well?" Foxe asked him.

Adem looked at him with a serious stare.

"I will accept your handshake...." he began. "...if you will accept that the first thing you have to do is learn to trust us..."

"I do..." Tommy nodded with a shrug.

"Then, why don't you show us your true face?"

Foxe paused, caught completely off-guard by the alien's incredibly perceptive eye.

Then, with a slight lull of concentration, the meat along his skeletal structure rolled and twisted, bones softening, and shifting......to finally reveal his true face.

Black hair, strong chin, and high cheek bones, met a pair of seemingly-eternally-sad blue eyes.

Adem finally held his hand out, shaking the man's hand.

"Adem Different."

Tom Foxe smiled, accepting the man's welcome.

"So...that's it? I'm in?" Tommy asked.

"In?" Baxter asked, as they turned beginning the trek back to the Schottenhamel tent on the far side of the festival. "Ha! Hell, this just means we might have gotten you an interview with the boss...."

"Interview?" Foxe asked.

"It is a business, you realize." Adem explained. "We do not exactly accept new employees as they fall from the sky."

"...or appear on the conference table?" Ozzy asked, cutting a devilish eye at Adem.

Adem glanced at him with the same look.

"...or drug from a sewer..." he countered.

"What the hell are you guys talking about?"

Baxter chuckled, slapping Tommy on the back.

"..heh...you've got a loooot of file reading to catch-up on...."

"If he gets hired." Adem interjected.

"Right. Right." Ozzy nodded with a grin. "If."

"Lykopis!" shouted Drake over the crowd. "Get off him!" Lykopis, happy at pinning one of the jeering Germans to the ground, had procedded to dig the heel of her shoe into his check. Most of the people in the crowd were cheering for her, though they had no idea why. Lykopis merely turned her head towards Drake. Her eyes were much in the manner of a cat on a fence looking at a barking dog -- cool, but amused, indifference.

"Stick it to the bloody man!" shouted Penny. She was still sitting next to Drake, though the secretary was too tipsy to get back up. Penny swung her head towards Drake. "It's maddness," she said. "I'm use to following orders. 'Yes sir', 'no sir', and 'do you like one lump or two sir'. Now I'm on my own and drinkin' like a bloody fish." Her eyes narrowed, and her face was somber. "Order me to do something. Make some copies. Send a fax. Anything."

"Penny, we're miles away from your office."

Just then, Drake's cell phone began ringing. Penny raised a finger. "Vanguard Europe, this is Penny speaking? How may I direct you?"

Drake ignore the drunk secretary. "Hello? Hey, Jessica."

"Where. Are. You."

Drake took a deep gulp. Busted. "Well, you see..."

"Don't try and fool me, Drake Marshall. You know what time it is here? What kind of meeting are you at?"

Shit. This is what happens when you lie to your wife. "Well, Paragon has me going over some stuff from the last case..."

"I thought you cleared all that up last week?" Drake couldn't think of a proper answer. "Look, you have any idea what's it like running the business and home without you? Did you have any idea how much time this would take away from you family when you signed up for this job?"

Lykopis's shouting was getting louder. And she was screaming in English again. "Vile, small-sasauge dog! Care to exam my corset from that angle -- the ground? Get up and I will beat you a fifth time."

Jessica overheard this. "A meeting? What is going on, Drake..."

Penny grabbed the cell phone. "I do appologize for the rudeness, Mrs. Marshall. It seems like Lady Lykopis is verbally abusing Mr. Siderwinder." Drake had no idea what was going on. "I have just been asked by Mr. Paragon to retrieve your husband, as his presentation is due next."

"His presentation?"

Penny nodded and continued speaking in her perfect secretary voice. "Yes, he was working on it all this morning." She paused for a moment. "And it just so happens that Mr. Marshall had a meeting with Mr. Paragon earlier, concerning the time he was spending away from you. Well Mr. Paragon has given me leave to convey his utmost regrets at this inconvience to you and would like to compensate. Would a ten-day leave and reservations on a cruise line be adequete?"

There was a pause on the other line. Drake strained to listen as Penny kept the speaker close to her ear. "Well...I suppose..."

"Great. I'll make the proper arrangements within the hour. Good day, Mrs. Marshall."

"Goodbye, Miss Goodweather -- and tell Drake...well, um...good luck on his presentation."

Penny hung up the phone. Drake whistled. "You are one cool liar."

"You think so? I use to work for a politican." She paused and looked down on the ground. "Of course, now I have to convince Mr. Par -- I mean, Dr. Paragon -- to reserve a cruise for you and your wife."

The conversation would have gone on, but Lykopis fell back onto the table. "That felt much better. I needed to get rid of all that extra energy."

Drake stood up. "Something's bothering me. Drake and Ozzy had been gone for too long."

"It is a fair. Could they have gotten lost?"

Drake frowned. "I doubt it. Ozzy went gambling? That's an invitation for disaster. Come on, let's go find them."

Drake got up and Penny followed. Lykopis stomped her foot. "Again? What are we, nursemaids for the boxer? Mr. Baxter can take care of himself."

Drake only shrugged. "Fine. Do whatever you want."

Lykopis felt for the slip of paper in her pocket. "Yes...yes I shall..."

Icarus Sidewinder was reminded of how much he loved flying - soaring above the clouds, parallel with birds and planes and hot air balloons. The feel of the wind in his face and the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Plus, the likelihood of his being chased down by idiots for hitting on their girlfriends was highly unlikely.

His calves were burning, his lungs were stinging, and the stitch that had begun on one side of his body had now reached the other side as well. He would have put his arms up over his head, as he'd been taught in junior high gym class, but he knew it wasn't aerodynamically prudent and therefore would not increase his speed at all.

Rage, Icarus had discovered, was a good source of adrenaline and energy. For as long as he'd been running, the man in the orange shirt chasing him had not once faltered. He had managed to stay at least a good five steps behind Sidewinder at all times, never slowing. Icarus mentally reminded himself for the tenth time since the chase started to look for a significant other before moving in for the kill.

One thing was certain, though... if Icarus didn't find some respite soon, he was going to get pummeled.

...pummeled... Icarus thought, a sudden idea flashing across his mind at speeds nearing, but not quite reaching, Mach One. Of course!

Making a sudden jerk to the right in a vain attempt to lose his pursuer, Icarus made his way back to the tent where he'd last seen the other members of Vanguard Europe. Unfortunately for the pilot, the man behind him had great reflexes for a man of his size. Sighing as he ran, Icarus scanned the busy Oktoberfest crowds, his hawk-like eyes trying desperately to find his target.

That's when he spotted her. Walking out of the tent she'd occupied just moments before, Lady Lykopis stood leaning against a nearby stand, carefully studying what looked to Icarus like a small slip of paper. That didn't matter, though. There was only one objective for the pilot... making his problem her problem.

Positioning himself in the crowd for a quick flyby, Icarus gathered every last ounce of his strength, darting straight for the Amazonian warrior. A large grin spread across his face as he ran, gaining speed.

As Sidewinder passed behind the Amazon, he reached out his hand, grabbing a sizeable portion of her ass in the process. Then, as fast as he'd grabbed, Icarus curled himself into a ball and lunged forward, rolling defensively under a luckily empty table.

The Amazon let out a minor yelp, turning around with a fierce surge of energy...

...only to have a German man in an orange polo shirt run directly into her with all his power.

The Amazon wasn't even phased. Backing off a bit, Icarus' pursuer, obviously in a bit of shock, stared up at Lykopis with wide, scared eyes.

The 'bitch' smiled... just before she delivered a nose-breaking blow to the man's face, essentially ensuring his inability to enjoy the remainder of the day's festivities. She muttered a few obscenities under her breath in ancient Greek as she turned her attention back to the scrap of paper in her hand, wading through the crowd.

Smiling wildly, Icarus crawled slowly out from under the table, shaking his hair and wiping the sweat from his brow. Sinking into a chair, he raised his finger and, before too long, a barmaid was on her way with a tall pint of fine German lager...

"We've got to find another tent," Ozzy said as he scanned the festivities. "There's that Mego Spider-man on sale on E-Bay that I've got to get. So far I'm in the lead, but I don't want that bunny_gurl_008 outbidding me again. No, not this time. Not this time."

"Wouldn't it be a lot safer if we just kept away from the gambling?" Tommy asked. "After all, there's a bit of a rough lot hanging around there. Probably on to you and your tricks by now."

"Ha!" Baxter let out. "I still have tricks that you haven't even thought of me thinking of yet."

"Mego Spider-man?" Adem asked.

"It's my childhood!" the boxer responded at the top of his lungs. "Sorry, still have some adrenaline from all the running."

"Maybe we should sit down for a moment or two," Tommy suggested. "There's a tent over here that serves a great sausage."

"Yeah," Ozzy agreed. "A sausage and a pint might be the thing to bring me down." The three turned and headed into a tent.

Had Penny turned around a second earlier, she would have seen them before they disappeared into the tent. But she didn't, so her, Lykopis, and Drake continued walking on further away into the crowd.

"I think I see Adem," Drake said to the other two. He squinted his eyes a bit to get a better look. "Nope. Sorry. It's a lamp post."

"Where would those two go?" Penny asked as she did her best to maintain her balance.

"Or, 'Where would Ozzy take them?' is more like it." Lykopis fidgited restlessly.

"Maybe they're looking for us," Penny theorized. "But we're not were we were, so they don't know where we are. And we don't know where they are because we left were we were looking for them. We'll never find each other in all this. Oh no! I've lost part of the team. Mr. Dr. Paragon will never forgive me."

"How... how many beers did she have again?" Drake asked. Lykopis shrugged her shoulders before putting her arms around the almost sobbing Penny.

"Poor Adem," the secretary continued. "He doesn't know Earth. I've lost an alien at Oktoberfest."

"Penny, I'm sure he'll be okay. He has been touring Europe, after all." Lykopis was doing her best to use a soothing voice.

"No. He's like a lost little puppy. It's all my fault."

Drake patted her on the shoulder uneasilty, not really knowing what to do. "Don't worry about him. Ozzy will take care of him.

Penny paused and looked over at Drake. "Poor Adem!" she finally let out again.

Tommy wasn't used to this. Usually his meals consisted of something tomato-flavoured on burnt toast, gobbled down in a hurry. Sitting at a table with a pair of his...well, to be utterly honest, idols was not something he did every day. They seemed like nice guys, though. Sure, Adem was a little weird, and Ozzy seemed a little too keen on hitting the tables for Tommy to feel entirely safe, but he could relate to that. A few years ago, he'd have likely tried to blow Ozzy's head off and steal his wallet to pay for a fix.

"I'm telling you, Adem, I'm feeling lucky! We hit the tables, I am gonna make millions!"

Tommy sighed.

"Look, in case you'd forgotten, most pf the gambling tents round here are run by the kind of guys that you don't wanna mess with. They take one look at Adem, and we are in deep, deep trouble. I can't pull out Randall Valion out every time we run into trouble"

Adem leaned over Tommy's shoulder, murmuring in Tommy's ear

"I'd advise you to let Ozzy enjoy himself. I find that it can be difficult to stop him when he becoems fixed upon something of this nature"

Tommy shook his head, conceding defeat

"Okay, Okay. Hopefully, Luca will keep us out of trouble"

"Luca?"

Tommy closed his eyes. Luca was an entirely fictional Mobster he'd had to invent on a trip to Sicily a couple of months previously. He'd never actually changed into him, back then he was just a name, but here he might come in handy. Concentrating, he slipped into the form of a big, strapping man of obviously Italian stock, clad in a cream-coloured summer suit. Opening his eyes, he spoke in a half-decent Italian accent

"Don't suppose either of you have a gun?"

Adem and Ozzy shook their heads.

"Ah well. This should be enough"

Lykopis stopped all of a sudden, causing an inebriated Penny to ram into her. "Ow!"

"Sorry Ly-ly."

"Look, Drake. There is Icarus."

The pilot was grinning and waving in their direction. Drake smiled and headed towards the table where Icarus had made room for the team. "Lykopis, babe!"

Lykopis rolled her eyes. "Not still angry about the German gentleman, are you?"

"Me? I don't hold a grudge."

They all sat down with Icarus. Lykopis and Drake sat opposite of the flyboy, while Penny sat next to him. "Hmm." Lykopis still couldn't figure out why the man had grabbed her like that. Hopefully no one noticed that...

"Yay!" Penny wrapped her arms around Icarus. "I found you, Adem! Now there's no way I can be sacked!"

Icarus gave Drake and Lykopis and very curious stare. Drake made the motions of drinking an invisible pint, while Lykopis nodded in agreement.

"You see the way his fingers are all fidgity," Ozzy said in a whisper to Adem. "He did the same thing earlier when he had a straight flush. Means he's got a good hand now too."

"What about the one tapping his lighter on the table?" the alien asked.

Ozzy shot his eyes over real quick to avoid attention even though he was wearing shades. "I noticed him doing that earlier. He's nervous. Bad hand."

"How is it that he is nervous while the other is confident? They're both doing the same thing."

"'Cuz it's poker," Ozzy held his cards low and close while keeping a stone expression on his face.

"Oh!" Different seemed convinced with the explination.

"I'll raise twenty," Tommy said while still wearing his Italian suit.

"Another round on me!" Ozzy said as a barmaid brought another tray of pints. Each of the players received one. "Just remember everything I've told you," he whispered to Adem before taking a long drink.

"I'll do my best," the alien answered and followed Ozzy in his action.

An hour and a half later the man with the unibrow was doing his best to count out the right amount of bills before throwing them into the pot. His lips tried to move, but couldn't form the formations needed for any sound in the German language. He voice had also seemed to have gone on holiday. The four fingers on his right hand raised up. "Fourty?" Adem asked. The man's head shook. "Four hundred?" His head loosely bobbed up and down. "Four hundred Euros it is then. Let me think on this." Adem downed an entire pint of beer right in front of his audience. "I believe I will call." Different took his winnings and put them in the center of the table. A light headed Ozzy just grinned as he looked at the amount of money in the pot with a smile on his face.

"Well, this is a high tension situation, Dave. Both players have been playing it fairly conservative up to this last hand."

"That's right, Phil. Both of these players have been drinking heavy amounts of alcohol since the start of the game. Now, if only one of them were gay, we'd have the perfect show for Bravo."

"Wait a moment, Dave. I think they're turning over their cards."

"Full House," unibrow managed to sweak out. "Eights over twos. A smile attempted to cross his face, but the edges of his lips only managed to twitch.

Adem laid out his cards. "Four sixes."

Unibrow let loose a string of profanities. Ozzy giggled to himself as he reached across the table and collected the money. Tommy felt like he was going to puke.

"Stick with me," Ozzy said. "I'll make you rich."

"How can you make me rich when you yourself aren't....?"

"Don't finish that sentence."

Adem sat quietly as the next hand was dealt.

"Ozzy," he finally said in a hushed voice. Baxter grunted without looking at the alien. "I we're being watched."

"It's not those goons from earlier, is it?"

"No. It's a woman. Over at the edge of the tent. She's been studying me for the past few hands." Ozzy looked over. "Do you think she's preparing to join the card game?"

"Either that or she likes tall men."

"What?"

"She's checking you out?" Tommy said as he arranged the cards in his hand.

"Checking me out?"

"Yes!" Tommy reaffirmed.

"For what?"

"You know...," Ozzy said before making a hand gesture that, on Adem's home world, roughly translates into No Trash Dumping.

"Hmmm...," the alien pondered. "I guess the polite thing to do would be to tell her that I'm not interested in doing that at all."

"Not interested?!" Tommy almost lost control over his form and barely kept from falling out of his seat.

"Trust me; you're interested," Ozzy said with a grin.

"No. Really, I'm not."

"I don't know how it works back on Vulcan or wherever you're from; but here, on Earth, it's one hell of an experience."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"No, it's true. Most guys just spend all their time thinking about doing it and looking for a woman to do it with."

"Sometimes two," Tommy threw in.

"That's how great it is." Ozzy's brow went crazily up and down.

"And you do this with a woman all the time?"

"That's usually the way it works."

"So a man doesn't do it alone?"

"Well.... sometimes. But it's not really the same."

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?"

"It never is with women. Let's just keep playing a few hands. Every now and then just look up at her... but not at her! Be mysterious. Chicks dig that shit."

Dr Ian McGregor was at his desk counting tongue depressors when he heard a knock at the door. He quickly grabbed a folder from the pile next to him in an attempt to look busy, then yelled out “It’s open!”

Doctor William Paragon entered the room, closing the door softly behind him. “You busy, McGregor?” He asked.

“If I said yes, would you leave?”

“Probably not.”

McGregor sighed, and threw his decoy folder to the side of his desk. He leaned back in his chair and picked up his jar of tongue depressors again.

“Do you know how many of these things I have?” McGregor asked.

“No. No I do not. And not only do I not know… I don’t care.” Paragon replied.

“Forty-seven.”

“How do you know that?”

“That’s how bored I was this afternoon,” McGregor explained.

“This is what I pay you for?

“Sometimes.”

“Well, now I need you to do some real work.”

McGregor leaned forward in his chair, rested his elbow on the desk and propped his chin on his palm. “Do tell.”

“I have a new employee lined up. Reilly. Victor Reilly,” Paragon said.

“…and?”

“And I need you to take a look at him.”

“A look? That’s awfully vague,” McGregor said.

“He’s been… altered. Physically. Enhanced reflexes and senses, augmented physical strength and speed.”

“And you think he may have a sore throat? Because I have several tongue depressors,” McGregor said, holding up his jar proudly.

“I need to know what was done to him and whether or not its significantly shortened his life span,” Paragon said. “You know as well as anyone that these guinea pig cases are never the healthiest of procedures.”

“Right. So. When is he coming in?” McGregor asked, leaning back in his chair again.

“Probably this afternoon.”

McGregor sighed. “You know, when I was studying medicine I wanted to be a pediatrician?” He asked.

“No…”

“Well, I did. I was going to help children.”

“Children… with superpowers?” Paragon asked.

“No. Just regular children.”

“…I see.”

“I was going to have a hand puppet.” McGregor said, holding up his right hand.

“Why?”

“He was going to make children feel more comfortable about coming to see me. Doctor Bananas and I would have made a great team.”

“Doctor Bananas?”

“You know… A monkey with a stethoscope. And maybe a tiny lab coat. He’d say something funny, and then I’d say, ‘never mind him, Doctor Bananas is crazy’. See how ‘bananas’ has two meanings there? Bananas as in crazy, and then… well… monkeys like bananas.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I just wanted you to know what I’d be doing if I wasn’t spending all my time here looking at nutjobs with super secret exploding radioactive spleens, or whatever the hell it is this new one has.”

Paragon shook his head slightly. “Just be ready in a few hours.”

Victor Reilly sat with his back pressed against a solid concrete wall. He measured his breaths and made sure to take them at carefully timed intervals. He knew that he had seven bullets left. He knew that his other two guns had been emptied on the way up here to the fourteenth floor, and now sat empty and useless in his belt. He knew that one of the guards was approaching from the right in five seconds, and the second guard was approaching from the left in six.

He counted to four, and jumped forward. His left foot connected with the wall opposite him, and he pivoted on it as the first guard rounded the corner. He raised the pistol in his right hand and pulled the trigger once, sending a single bullet towards the guard. It penetrated his throat.

Victor spun a hundred and eighty degrees through the air as the first guard fell to the floor, dead. Victor’s pistol fired a second time at the guard that had appeared at the other end of the hallway. It pierced his eye and burrowed into his brain.

Victor landed on the concrete floor, perfectly poised.

And then, he ran.

A moment later, he was standing in front of a thick wooden door. Straining his eyes, he stared through the thick wooden paneling at the shapes behind it. He counted four men, and three of them looked threatening. One of them looked small and was trembling slightly, like a little scaredy girly man. Victor blasted the lock off and kicked the door from its hinges then quickly turned, sheltering himself in the corner of the hallway as a hail of bullets flew from the now-open door. The bullets stopped for a moment, and then a guard cautiously stepped from the doorway and into the hall. Victor shot out his arm and reached for a spot on the man’s neck, with the exact force and placement needed to kill him with as little energy expended as possible.

Victor spun and used the man as a shield, raising his pistol from beneath the corpse’s armpit and quickly dispatching of the two guards left standing in the room (for the curious, one was killed when a bullet struck him right between the eyes. The other died when the death of the first distracted him for just long enough for Victor to take advantage and kick him squarely in the Adam’s apple).

And so, Victor Reilly was left in this almost-empty office. Alone except for the man all his victims had been guarding.

Victor raised his gun.

“Wait! I have money!” The small and somewhat off-putting man said, raising his palms towards his would-be assassin.

Victor lowered his gun slightly.

“How much money?” He asked, cocking his head slightly.

“Uh… about… about two point three million…” The small man said, stumbling towards his desk and fumbling with the drawer. He seemed unnecessarily sweaty.

“You have that much? In your desk drawer? Seriously?” Victor asked.

“This is actually the third time this year there’s been an attempt on my life,” The man said, a little calmer now. His stutter was gone and he seemed capable of getting the drawer open. He was apparently taking Victor’s lowered gun as a sign that the assassin was considering the offer.

Victor’s target pulled out a briefcase and put it down softly on the desk, then opened the top to reveal thick wads of cash inside. He pushed it slowly towards Victor. Victor took the briefcase, closing it and pulling it towards himself. The small man in the ugly suit breathed a sigh of relief.

Victor drove his elbow into the bridge of the man’s nose, sending him flying backwards and falling in a heap on the floor. Victor grabbed the briefcase, stepped over the dead man, and walked around the desk to the door.

He heard the footsteps of guards moving quickly down the hallway, towards the office. Straining his eyes again, he stared through the concrete wall of the curved hallway between him and them. Victor figured they’d most likely been drawn by the sound of the gunfire, and the three bullets left in his chamber may not be enough to take them.

As the first two moved into his field of view, he used two of his remaining bullets to strike them both in the chest. A third moved into the hallway and Victor leaped to the floor, ducking several bullets that flew through the air above him. He fired his last bullet into the man’s throat as he stood up.

The fourth man entered the hallway. Victor threw his empty pistol with a grunt, striking the guard directly in the temple. The guard fell sideways and crashed against the concrete wall. Victor drove his elbow against the man’s head, forcing it into the concrete with enough force to crack his skull. Victor took the man’s kneecap out from beneath him with the back of his foot, and the man’s head cracked against the concrete floor as he fell.

Victor ran. He turned another corner and found himself in the hallway where he’d killed two guards a few minutes before. A person suddenly stepped into his field of vision.

Victor leaped up against the wall, pushing off from it with his right foot and slamming his left into this person’s throat and driving them against the concrete wall.

Doctor William Paragon grabbed Victor’s foot and pushed him aside, then stepped away from the wall.

“You should be dying. That should have crushed your windpipe,” Victor said, his head cocked curiously.

“You’d think,” Paragon said.

“I thought you were one of the guards. One of the guys trying to kill me,” Victor said. There was not a trace of remorse or apology in his voice. It was simply a statement of fact.

Paragon stepped over one of the bodies that Victor had killed moments before.

“It would seem the description I’d heard of you was more or less accurate…” Paragon said. “What was the phrase? ‘Perfect killing machine…’”.

“You a cop?” Victor asked.

“No. I’m here to offer you a job,” Paragon answered.

"Make sure those files are in order when I get back, Jym. Or I'll send you a Trojan. No, not the condomn, you dolt, the virus. What would an AI need with a condomn? Whatever. I'm pissed drunk right now, so tell bloody Mr. Paragon this is what happens when I have too much free time!" Penny closed her cell phone and turned back to Icarus. "So when you're flying in the air, do you ever get bugs on you helmet?"

Drake tugged on her sleeve. "What did Jym say?"

Penny just giggled. "It's a secret. Well not really. Jym just told me Paragon left to go fetch someone."

Drake turned to Lykopis. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That we might have an addition to the team?" She looked at Icarus. The pilot was making animal noises, which the Vanguard secretary found very amusing. "I hope the new one is not like him..."

"So tell me again... what do you do?" Victor asked.

"I'm a doctor," McGregor replied.

"A doctor of what?"

McGregor looked up at Reilly. "Metahuman Physiology."

Reilly was sitting on a cold steel bench. McGregor was doing a thorough examination, which had reached the point where McGregor had a stethoscope pressed firmly against Reilly's chest.

"Metahuman Physiology isn't a real thing. You can't be a doctor of that," Reilly said, his eyes narrowed.

"No. I made it up. But I have a doctorate in seventeen other things."

"Seventeen?"

"Or four. Somewhere around there. What do you do?"

"I kill people."

McGregor nodded slowly. "And where did you study for that?"

"British Navy."

Drake was starting to worry. There was still no sign of Ozzy and Adem, and Penny was getting very emotional. Currently, she'd passed through weepy and angry into giggly, and was laughing her head off.

"C'mon Penny, focus. We need to find Adem and Ozzy"

"Heehee! You said focus!"

Drake sighed, and turned away. Which was when he noticed the Italian watching them. Instinctively Drake tensed, ready for whatever might happen. The Italian looked like a hitman, and Drake couldn't help but wonder if Ozzy had managed to get a contract put out on him. Then the Italian headed over, and his expression changed to one of, unbelievably, excitement.

"Wow! You're Drake Marshall, aren't you? Jeez, it's an honour to meet you at last!"

"Ermm, thanks, but I'm kinda looking for som friends of mine..."

"Y'mean Ozzy and Adem? They're back in that tent. I shouldn't worry about them. Not that you really need to, after all, what with Ozzy being indestructible and Adem being, well, whatever the hell he is..."

"Right, yeah. Look, this is probably kind of rude, but who are you?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Tommy Foxe, at your service"

Drake started back, as Tommy's face began to warp and shift. Slightly later, Tommy stood in his usual form, looking as he always did, slightly haggard and in dire need of a square meal.

"Did I mention I was a shape-shifter?"

"I think it might have slipped you mind"

"Mr. Foxe, I think we need to talk." Marshall said, as the metahuman shapeshifter's features began to finalize.

"I can help you. Really, I can be a big help to your team." Foxe was a bit overeager, the drinking and meeting the group combining to overwhelm him.

"How is it you know so much about us, Mr. Foxe?" Marshall grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side.

"Well. . .uh, well. . ." Foxe began to stammer.

"Let's dance, Ly-Ly!" Penny tried to grab the amazon and twirl her with her. Lykopis steadfastly refused. When that didn't work, Penny began to climb up on the nearest table and bump and grind back and forth.

"All right!" Icarus shouted, raising the first full mug he'd had time to really enjoy today, while Penny began fiddling with the buttons on her shirt.

"Oh, what now?" Drake said, turning to the secretary dancing on the table.

"Problems, Marshall?"

"Wh-where the hell did you come from?" Drake asked, Gaunt standing behind him, holding a pint of his own.

"Here, there, the usual." Gaunt replied, enjoying his little joke.

"I thought you were busy." Marshall continued, while Foxe wandered over to the table to cheer Penny on. "What happened to your important peace talks?"

"We're on a break. Both sides have gone to confer with their parties." Gaunt took a drink of his lager. "Mmm. Not as strong as I remembered it."

"What about all that. . .crap. . .you know. . .all that junk leaking out of the sidewalks in London?" Drake began feeling woozy. The alcohol was catching up with him, as well.

"It's been fixed. The energy was contained and the crack is being sealed as we speak." Gaunt replied nonchalantly.

"Ohh. . .well, la deee daaa. . .guess the big Shadow Chancellor isn't always necessary, eh?" Marshall continued, ordering another pint from a barmaid.

"On the contrary. I was quite necessary at the time. I have other responsibilities than just to this team, Drake." Gaunt responded, lowering his glasses a bit to look at Drake, his dark eyes reflecting nothing.

"What are you doing, here, Gaunt? Why did Paragon put you with us?" Marshall asked, draining the last of his old glass just as the barmaid set his new one down.

"I am here because William knows me and trusts me. We have worked together before. What are you insinuating, Marshall?" Gaunt took another drink, part of him shifting slightly into shadowform for an instant, as if listening for something, before returning to normal.

Drake leaned forward, careful not to knock over a beer. "Are you spying on us for Paragon?"

"HELL YEAH!" Tommy and Icarus screamed in unison as Penny finally undid her buttons and removed her blouse.

"Oh, lord." Drake sighed, putting a hand to his face.

Drake placed his head in his hands. "Will someone please dress our secretary? Jeez, Paragon's going to kill me."

Icrus shouldered the field leader. "Stop being a party pooper." He turned back to the tispy Brit. "Hey, Penny? Nice dimes."

"I can't believe this..." said Drake.

"Stop acting so America." Lykopis took another sip and shrugged. "It is not like she is completely topless. Besides, I think Germany has nude beaches..."

"Not in October," added Icarus. He looked blank for a moment. "What do you know about nude beaches?"

Lykopis slammed her hand down on the table. "Feris wheel. Now. I want to go." She scooped Drake and Guant in her arms. One knee went weak for a moment, but she managed to correct her gait.

Drake leaned back and eyed Guant. "What are you keeping from us, Guant?"

The Shadow Chancellor only raised an eyebrow. "You really need to learn to ask more nicely."

"Ow! Goddamnit!" Victor Reilly yelled as McGregor withdrew the needle from his skin, and a decent portion of Reilly's blood along with it. "You said it wasn't going to hurt!"

McGregor shrugged. "I lied. I'm a horrible person," He said, turning around and placing the syringe down carefully in an already labelled container.

"That has to be the sixth time you've taken blood from me today."

"The seventh," Ian said, correcting Reilly's math. "The first three samples I need. The last four were just because I enjoy that pained grimace you get when I jab you with one of these things," McGregor said, waving around an empty syringe then putting it back down on the table.

Reilly's eyes narrowed. "You are a horrible person."

"Quiet, you. Now, I'm not going to know the results of the blood tests for a while. So we move on to the next step in Operation: Make Sure Victor Isn't Dying," Ian explained.

"...which is?"

"The CAT scan."

Reilly cocked his head to the side, curiously. "A CAT scan? You're going to put me in a tube?"

McGregor nodded. "A big, scary tube."

Reilly shook his head. "A horrible, horrible person..."

"Comfortable?"

"No."

"...good...good...."

"...horrible person..."

"You know, continuing to say it over and over doesn't make it not true..." Ian added, his voice drifting clearly over the corner speakers.

Victor Reilley sighed, laying flat on the slowly moving scan pad in nothing more than a gray hospital gown. The CAT Scan tube slowly covered his whole body, the pad coming to a rest.

"...now, just relax and pray that I'm not so drunk as to accidentally fry your ovaries...."

Reilley's eyes gained a bit of a panic, unsure of which part of that sentence to be worried over.

In the control booth, peering out the glass with Dr. McGregor, Nurse Piper glanced up at him with a quizical eye.

"You're not really drunk, are you?"

"Don't be absurd." he remarked, tapping a few commands on the keyboard. "Of course I am...."

"You're drunk?"

"Pretty sure."

"Why?"

"Well, I'm relatively certain it had something to do with the quantifiable amounts of scotch I drowned myself in about an hour ago."

Ruby stared at him for a second, finally leaning in a bit for sniff. She straightened back up, narrowing her eyes.

"You're messing with me, aren't you?"

"It's not that hard to do, really..." he shrugged, still fiddling with the computer controls.

Piper rolled her eyes, with a sigh.

They sat in silence briefly, studying the scan readings.

"Stoned?" she finally asked.

"As a bat..." he nodded.

She nodded, turning back to the monitors.

"What about him?" she asked, motioning towards the readouts.

"No, he's completely sober." Ian suggested. "Shame, really..."

"Doctor..." she sighed. "...you know what I mean..."

McGregor grinned, looking up at the bottom of the feet sticking out of the scan tube.

"He's a marvelous specimen." he said. "Perfect reflexes. Perfect stamina. Perfectly healthy..."

"...perfectly naked..." Ruby interjected, squinting her eyes towards the glass. "...you can see straight up his gown..."

"You can, can't you?" McGregor nodded, joining her view of the man.

"Wow...." she breathed. "...stroke of luck..."

"How dare you?" McGregor gasped. "Ruby, you have known me far too long to think that being able to see up that man's gown is in any way, shape, or form, not strictly done on purpose by myself..."

Her flipped a few switches, grumbling a bit.

"...luck, indeed..." he muttered.

"Well, nice show, either way..." she added, still staring at Victor Reilley's testicles.

"...I wouldn't know..." Ian added.

Piper paused, looking over at him.

"You're messing with me again, aren't you?"

He looked up at her, completely amazed with himself.

"Am I?"

Icarus grinned as Penny managed to fumble out of her skirt, accidentally falling over and laughing hysterically as she did so. The pilot took another swig of his lager, pounding the mug on the table as he nudged Tommy Foxe in the side.

"I always knew she was a slut!" he said, wide-eyed.

Tommy was smiling as well, though not as widely as Icarus. "I must say, she seems very... loose."

"Oktoberfest is all about bringing people together!" the pilot said with a grin.

"Speaking of which," the shapeshifter replied, extending his hand, "I'm Tommy Foxe. I'm looking to join Vanguard Europe."

Icarus' eyes stayed glued on the secretary as she stood back on top of the table, her skirt around her ankles, and her hips gyrating to some imaginary tune in her head.

"And, I..." he began, "...am not interested. Good lord, man! Do you not see the tits and ass right in front of you? Live in the damn moment!"

Then, as if responding to his own advice, the pilot jumped onto the table, wrapping an arm around the secretary as she danced about provacatively. Turning, Penny saw Icarus gyrating away next to her and, acting on some drunken instinct, did the only thing she knew to do.

She raised her leg, her knee landing squarely in Icarus' groin. "Not that drunk," she muttered almost incoherently.

Doubling over, the pilot fell to the table as Penny continued dancing, a small crowd beginning to gather. Tommy Foxe laughed riotously, lifting his beer in mock toast.

"Good lord, man," he said playfully. "Do you not see that the tits and ass hate your guts?"

Taking a big swig, Tommy slid his beer across the table to Icarus, who took a small drink before rolling off the table and onto the ground, his hands clasped gingerly around his rapidly swelling testicles. The crowd laughed at Icarus' downfall, then redirected their attention to the disrobing secretary, camera bulbs flashing as she continued to shake what her mama gave her.

And, from the ground, Icarus Sidewinder groaned in pain...

"You are not frightened, are you, Gaunt?"

"Of course not." Gaunt's eyes narrowed, and his lips curled slightly. "But I hate the light."

Drake, Lykopis, and Gaunt were on top of the ferris wheel. It was almost comical to see the heavy hitters, the big guns of Vanguard Europe, looking at the Munich sky on top of a carnival ride. Lykopis was breathing deeply, trying to take in the crisp evening air. Drake was looking down, spying the small forms of the tourists below them. Gaunt looked at the setting sun, wondering if he could speed the coming of night and shadows simply by sneering.

And yet they did not speak much. All three were too preoccupied with their own thoughts. Drake felt the seat swing slightly in the wind, and wondered what Jessica was doing at home. Was she even awake at this hour? And what was he going to do about the company? He had no idea Vanguard would take so much of his time.

It would take even less of your time if you didn't spend the weekend getting wasted with these people. But Drake quickly brushed aside those thoughts. He turned to the other two. Lykopis had her eyes mostly shut. "You're not going to be sick, are you?"

"No," she said flatly.

"You thinking of that ex you bumped into?"

Lykopis smiled faintly and nodded. "Mhhh-hhm. And other things. Mostly about the team." She looked embarassed for a moment. "I want you to understand, Marshall. I have no affections, no loyalties, no reason to stay close to anyone, except..."

"...Except?"

"...except I know it is important to all of you. And I know it is important now." Lykopis shrugged, as if trying to excuse her misbehavior. "In a hundred years, Drake, you will be dead. You ashes will be reduced to dust. So will Penny, and Icarus, and even Ozzy. But I will still be young." She leaned towards the handlebars. "But I would like to think I was part of something great again. I would like to make history again, instead of simply watching it. Does that seem self-centered of me?"

"Not at all." It was Gaunt that spoke those lines.

Drake turned towards the coach's other occupant. "So, Mr. Gaunt. Why does Paragon trust you so much?"

The Shadow Chancellor looked at Drake. Cool and calculating eyes surveyed the youth's hot and blazing glance. "You don't need to know."

"Shit, Gaunt!" Drake leaned forward, trying to fight the nausea in his stomach. "We've both nearly been killed in front of each other. I've had to trust you abilities and brains to help save the day. To save lives. Do you understand my position? To put that much faith in someone I don't know?"

Drake sat back and tried to calm his ill stomach. Gaunt shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Look, I can't just spill out all the secrets of my title. But...I have been a risk for you to take." The sun was sinking past the horizon, and Gaunt seemed stronger. At least he stopped sneering as the shadows began to appear. "If it's important -- I mean, real important -- I'll let you in. Don't ask me to tell you all my secrets. But if one of those secrets pose a risk to the team, you'll hear about it from me first."

Drake nodded. "Thanks. A lot."

Gaunt felt the shadows around the three and the end of his mouth twitched a little. It was almost a smile. "Not a problem. It's the same promise I made to Paragon."

Lykopis let out a loud hiccup. "Pardon me."

Drake just laughed. This was why Paragon had sent them all out. Not to blow their livers to smitherines. Drake had been given the chance to study a little human character. True, he understood little of the Amazon's past, and he understood even less of the Shadow Chancellor's, but somehow it had not matter. Both had set their pride aside for a brief second to assure Marshall of their loyalty. Perhaps Paragon was right. Perhaps this is why he was the field leader. He wasn't the fastest, the wisest, or the strongest of the team. But he had some sort of flame that they all flew too.

Perhaps in it's own way, thought Drake as the coach sank towards the ground, leadership is a power.

Ian McGregor stood with his back to Reilly and facing the illuminated panel, upon which was hanging a row of X-Rays.

"How are my bones looking then, Doc?" Victor asked.

"Well... they're definitely all there," Ian replied, stroking his chin in an attempt to look learned and thoughtful. He turned around to face Victor, who was sitting on a couch in a t-shirt and tracksuit pants.

"In fact, I can't seem to see a thing wrong with you," Ian said.

"That's comforting."

"...so far," Ian added.

"So far," Victor agreed, nodding.

"Where are you from, anyway? I can't seem to place the accent..." Ian said, sitting down on the couch next to Reilly.

Victor shrugged. "Born in London, but don't remember it. Was taken to the states when I was two, spent a few years there. Came back to London for a year or two, then spent the teen years in France and then Scotland. Then back to London when I did my training with the British navy.

"British/American/French/Scottish/British?" Ian asked.

"Yup."

"Wow. So everybody hates you."

"Yup."

"And the navy, they're the ones who did this to you?" Ian asked.

"Did what?" Victor replied, raising an eyebrow.

"You know... turned you into Killy McKill-Kill."

"Not the navy specifically. Some secret sciencey type branch of the British government. Headed up by some researcher named Feldman. Harold Feldman."

"Harold? Seriously? People still name their kids Harold?" Ian asked.

"Apparently."

"He didn't shorten it to Harry?"

"He hated Harry."

"So you called him Harry."

"At every opportunity. Are we almost done with these tests?"

"Just about."

"Do I get a lollipop?"

"But, I wanna dance." Penny Goodweather pouted as Tommy Foxe pulled her down off of the table and handed her her clothing.

"Well, there's a band starting up shortly in the Bavarian Heaven tent, you can dance there, but you'll have to get dressed." Foxe gently chided her as she pulled her skirt halfway up her legs.

"A band? And I can dance?" She asked, pulling her blouse on (it was inside out). "Promise?"

"All you want. I promise." Foxe answered, attempting not to watch her fumble into her clothing.

"You dance with me." She said, just before stumbling over. Foxe reached out his arms to catch her, and held her up.

"Okay, I'll dance with you." Foxe said, helping her along to the Bavarian Heaven tent.

"Good." She answered, finally smiling. "You're so nice. I like you, Adem."

"Yeah, well I kinda like. . .ADEM?!"

**********************

The crossbow bolt hit the target dead center as a ring of applause went up. Lykopis turned to acknowledge the crowd, smiling slightly. She was unused to all this. "Your shot." She said to Marshall as he prepared to fire. The crossbow competition in the tent called Armbrustschutzenzelt was proving a ready remedy for her melancholy.

"You haven't won yet." Marshall answered, taking aim and letting a bolt fly. The bolt hit just outside of the center ring of the target.

"That's another Paulaner you owe me." Lykopis said, aiming again, and nailing another perfect shot.

"Yeah, yeah." Marshall answered. "How did you get us such a quick access to this, Gaunt?"

"I've known the Inselkammar family for some time." Gaunt replied, drinking his Paulaner.

"I'll bet." Marshall answered, "What was it? Werewolf? Child eating witch?" Marshall joked, before taking his shot.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." was Gaunt's only response.

The great bearded man licked his lips again as the juices from his Bavarian-style sucking pig ran down his chin, collecting in his large beard. He had already devoured four of these whole pigs and was well on his way into his fifth. The Homo Lupis, it seems, have a tremendous appetite for meat.

The redhead across the table glared at him with an aura of hauty disdain. While the disgust on her face was more than obvious, 'she' said very little, if anything at all. 'Her' race was a silent one, not prone to large gatherings of people or anything of this nature. Just being here was more than evidence of 'her' desire for peace between her race and the Homo Lupis.

The thoughts of peace, however, quickly shifted as she heard a low whisper at her shoulder, a hint of a Russian accent detectable.

"Hey, Red. Does the carpet match the curtains?"

'She' turned sharply, glaring at the figure who would dare to interrupt 'her'. What 'she' saw was a cocky smile belonging to a young blonde man with long flowing locks and pants that were far too tight to be worn comfortably. However, due to their fit, 'she' could tell exactly what he was thinking... and 'she' didn't like it one bit.

Before the priest could make an attempt at a response, the bearded man ceased his eating and lowered his dark, wolf-like eyes at the uninvited guest. "Step warily, lad," he warned, licking his lips. "This one is not what she seems..."

"Yeah, sure," the man said, sliding into the seat next to the 'woman', unable for the time being to pry his eyes from the 'Oktoberfest' logo on 'her' skintight t-shirt. "So, Red... if I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"

"Lad," the Homo Lupine growled, "what you are doing is decidedly... unwise."

"Look, Grizzly Addams!" the young man snapped. "I've been around my share of women before and I think I know how to depants one, thank you."

The man suddenly stopped, looking back the bearded man warily. "What are you? Like, her boyfriend or something?"

The man cracked a smile, taking another gargantuan bite of his pig. "Lad... that is not a woman you're sitting next to..."

Icarus Sidewinder's jaw dropped as he gazed at the stunning beauty beside him. Then, his gaze narrowed as he studied 'her' more closely. Finally, his mouth opened...

"Pre-op or post-op?"

...and his foot fit perfectly inside.

The priest turned to him, arching 'her' eyebrow. "What do you mean?" 'she' finally responded in a deep bass voice that turned Icarus' face a lovely shade of pale green.

"NYAH!" he screamed, leaping backwards from the table. "Transvestite!"

The bearded man let loose a series of short gasping laughs that sounded remarkably like panting, while the priest merely raised 'her' eyebrow in amusement at the witless pilot.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the trio as Icarus' blood suddenly ran cold. Both the Homo Lupine and redheaded representatives looked up at the source of the shadow with admiration, nodding their heads.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Icarus Sidewinder squeaked out. Turning around, he fould himself face-to-face with the Shadow Chancellor, Edmund Gaunt... and he did not look happy.

"Hey, Perry!" Icarus said chipperly, oblivious to the look on the Chancellor's face. "And here I thought I was turning around to see the redhead's gay lover! Boy, is that ever a relief!"

Then, slapping the man on the shoulder, he made a movement to go. A heavy hand stopped him, turning him back around to face Gaunt. "Icarus," he said stoically. "Might I have... a word with you?"

"Okay, Victor... tell me what's in my office," McGregor said.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

They were currently sitting in the lab, separated by two rooms, three walls and a hallway from Dr Ian McGregor's office. Victor Reilly strained his eyes and looked at the first wall, quickly finding himself looking out into the hallway as the wall faded from his view. There was a pot plant and a bench. They soon faded as well.

He found himself looking into Ian McGregor's office.

"A chair... a desk... a phone... the usual..." Reilly said.

"Right... more specifically?"

"Nurse Piper is stealing something out of your desk."

"...what?"

Reilly watched as Nurse Piper leaned into McGregor's desk drawer, pulled out a silver flask, took a swig, and put it back. She then grabbed a pen off McGregor's desk and walked away.

"Seriously. She's stealing shit."

"Right... putting that aside for now... can you turn and face me?" McGregor asked.

Reilly did as he was told, and turned to face McGregor's face. He saw through the man's skin, through eyes and skull and brains to the wall behind.

"Gah!"

Reilly closed and rubbed his eyes.

"Remember to adjust your eyes back to normal before you shift your focus to the foreground," McGregor said.

"Right... shit... that was fucked up," Reilly said, looking back up.

"Did you know your pupils dilate by at least twenty percent when you're using your X-Ray vision?"

"Wow. That's so exciting, I'm going to write it in my journal."

There was a pause between the two.

"You don't really have a journal, do you Victor?"

"I can't believe you said that to her," Ozzy was trying to stuff all the money he could into his pockets. "How could you think that was all about taking out the trash and not... you know."

"Please, Ozzy, that is how all of this started in the first place," Adem looked around at the festivities as all the other card players had vanished. "If you had just told me that it was about sex in the first place, the whole embarrassing scene could have been avoided. I feel rather sorry for that young girl."

"You're supposed to be the Sherlock Holmes here. What's the matter? Couldn't deduce that I was talking about sex and not trash removal?" Ozzy chuckled with a smile.

"How could I?" Adem retorted. "You practice neither."

"You see," Ozzy waved a wad of Euros at the alien in a disciplinary manner, "it's those kinds of remarks that would hurt my feelings if I had any. Anyway, let's see if we can magically transform this cash into more cash. This time let's find a game with less tourists. Tourists make me yawn."

"Care to explain that?" Different asked his friend. Baxter just shook his head. "Alright. But, Ozzy, don't you think we've made enough money?"

"We can never have enough!" the boxer cried out. The nearby crowds stoped what they were doing to look in on the commotion. "Ok, maybe I can have enough beer; but I'll never have enough green.... or purple... or whatever the hell color this stuff is over here." He began to inspect the currency sticking out of his shirt pocket to find out just exactly what the hell color it was.