Disclaimer:
You know the routine. Idon't own the chracters portrayed within.
The owners will probably sue me if they found out but they should
know that I don't have a sigle cent to my name.

Another part in just one hour ! 
Aaacckk !!! Ithink I made a lot of mistakes !
Still just send me your C&C ! 
AND I BEG FOR AN MST !!!!!  

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

           The bike roared across the streets of Megatokyo as Priss made it 
go faster. She liked riding her motorcycle this fast. The feeling of euphoria 
from the speed was a favorite feeling of hers. That's why she has so many 
speeding tickets piled up at her trailer. She let the cycle go faster as she 
started to remember her old boyfriend, Jesse. Riding this fast always reminded 
her about him. She'll always remember him. The way he smiled , the way 
he laughed  and all the little details about him.      
   
            She was jolted out of her memories when a black car overtook her, 
the horn waking her out of her reverie. She gritted her teeth. No way she was 
going to let a car get the better of her bike. The bike's engines roared louder 
as she went after the car with the bike's full speed. She slowly gained onto it.
When she reached the driver's window she turned to give the driver the finger 
before she overtook it. What she saw made her eye's go the size of table 
saucers.

It was Jesse, who seemed to be as surprised as her , looking back at her 
through the driver's side of the car.

Priss was so distracted that she almost hit the approaching lamp post. She 
swerved immediately to the left, while the car just as quickly moved into a 
sideroad, to the right.

<That couldn't have been Jesse. That couldn't have been him.> Priss thought 
as she regained her mental processes after the shock. She looked again to 
her right, seeing the bright neon lights of Megatokyo.

< That couldn't have been him. Besides Jesse hated three piece suits. He 
wouldn't be wearing one now. Especially black ones.> 

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

 ' Damn ! '  The driver of the black car swore as he made a quick left into a 
dark alley, wher he parked the car.

 ' What ?!?'  Asked another man , that was wearing the same black three-piece 
suit that the driver wore.

' That was Priss !'

' Who ?'

' My ex-girlfriend.'

' What's wrong about that ?'

' I'm supposed to be dead remember. Burnt beyond recognition.' 

' Oh. Think we should ask some of the other's visit her and do the you-know-what ? ' 
The man asked the driver while snapping his fingers before his eyes. The driver was 
calming down.

'Nah. The contact was too fats to be negligible. If she starts to snoop around, then 
we ask them to do it. '

' OK. Now, let's move. I don't want to be late again for this job.' The man said while 
he started to clean a gun.
 
The car moved silently out of the alley blending nicely into Megatokyo's streets.

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

               The plane arriving from Washigton that night had quite a few special 
passengers. But the most noticeable among them was a man and a woman. The 
man was easily fifty years old or so, while the woman seemed to be in her early 
twenties. 

' Uhhh. Sir, is our little trip authorized ?' the woman asked nervously as they started 
to get off the plane.

' Don't worry, Ally. Your aunt Dana will let this one slip through, like she always does.'

' But , sir, Japan's a little hard to explain even for a trip.' 

' Ther's been some strange reports of something happening in Megatokyo. Anyway , 
I'm well beyond my prime so I can go about taking enough risks as I am.'

' But do you have to take me along ?'

' Just like your aunt a long time ago, aren't you Ally ?'

Ally was stopped from answering when the woman behind the desk asked them 
their names.

' Special Agent Alexandria Scully.'

' Special Agent Fox Mulder.' Said the old man as he signed the papers for both of them.

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

              The Chief of the A.D. Police stood up to greet the man who was to be 
his savior. He was dressed in a leather jacket and seemed to be in the best of 
health. His brown hair was cut in businessman's type of haircut, something that 
didn't fit with the rest of his clothes which looked like they were from a biker's 
convention minus the chains. 

' Good Morning , Mr Baker.'

' Good Morning, Chief.' 

They shook hands and the Chief motioned for him to sit down.

' Let me say  it's an honor to meet you, Mr. Baker.' He smiled as he took a sip 
from his coffee.

' Thanks, Chief . I appreciate it. But let's get down to business. I need a cover 
for my presence here in the AD Police. I hope you've gotten me one.'

' Yes, you're now officially, Inspector Mark Baker.' The Chief said as he handed 
Baker his badge and ID.

' Next I need a partner who's very good at computer's.'

' I don't know about that one , Baker. But I'll try to get you one of the best.' 

' Don't worry about it. I have a file on the person I need.' Baker said with a smile as 
he pulled a folder out of his jacket and gave it to the Chief.

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

Data Encoder Nene Romanova was in a very bad mood. First ,  she finally met a 
computer security system she couldn't hack through on the first try and she hadn't 
couldn't give it a second try since Sylia already sold it. Second, she was set for 
overtime tonight and she didn't like staying up in the AD Police HQ when she could 
just be out on a night on town. 

' Hey , Nene, congratulations ! ' Myoko said as she approached the grumbling Nene.

' Why ? ' asked Nene , wondering what could she have gotten this time.

' You've just been promoted to Inspector. '

' What ?!?!?!?' were the words that the now Inspector Nene Romanova said  before 
she fainted.   

*******************
I made up a name for Priss' dead boyfriend, since most people tell 
me that no one knows. 

Well, tell me what you liked and hated         

As I said C&C and MSTs are begged for.   
    
' Writers are the torchbearers of civilization. We're set in a corner only we
can illuminate.Some of us are searchlights, able to cast a beam into the 
far reaches of the human soul.Some of us are candles , barely able to 
sustain a glow against the darkness. Nevertheless the words I write 
are important, because light is additive. Another's light  doesn't diminish
 my own. Our lights together make us stronger.'   
                   - (After much paraphrasing and reaaranging) Roger Martin