Fffft. Good grief. I can't believe I'm submitting this.

Yeah, this is a Gibova story. Granted, it's not perfect, so I don't expect too harsh criticism... This does NOT center around the actual series. It revolves around my own little world. Hope you enjoy.

Two things raced through her mind as she ran down the muddy puddles that covered the road: The dirty, dingy necklace in her hand, and the spagghetti she had wolfed down that morning.

How that guy managed to catch her, she had no clue, but it was certain that a portion of the blame, if not all, was her fault. She was supposed to be agile and smooth, not clumsy and sluggish. Today was just not her day.

She was way too busy scolding herself to even notice the honking cars and the wonderful speech delivered by impatient drivers that had to screech to a stop just so she could sprint across the street.

"STOP! STOP THAT THIEF!"

"WAIT UNTIL WE GET A HOLD ON YOU, HONEY!"

"YOU'RE GONNA PAY, Y'HEAR?"

Nova cursed, swerving to an alley way, and stayed put in the shadows. The smell of garbage cans and raw sewage curdled her already weak stomach. At first, she thought herself safe; the four pairs of feet that were after her tail scampered right by the dark alley.

"Suckers." She grinned and stood up, holding up her prize victoriously.

Before she could step out, however, the four monkeys that she had supposedly duped were in fact waiting right by the way, grinning and yet scowling at the yellow female. They surrounded her, cunningly cutting her off of every escape possible, mashing their fists into their palms as they walked ever closer, backing her away into the darkness.

Aw, monkey doodle.

"Gibson? Gibson?"

The blue male started, his concentration suddenly interuppted by a familiar companion. He looked up from his paperwork, brow cocked, lips curved to a friendly smile. "Antauri."

"Here. I thought you might want something to eat." The black simian dropped a small white bag and plopped two cups of coffee onto the messy piles of documents.

"Doughnuts," Gibson peered into the bag and laughed. "Very typical for a policeman, Antauri."

"Do not stereotype," Antauri said, chuckling as he pulled up a chair. He gazed around the small, humble doctor's office. "I am an exception."

"Well, you sure aren't discouraging the thought." Gibson reached inside and picked out a glazed pastry. He looked at it for a moment before he proceeded to sink his teeth into the warm, delicious delicacy. "Mmm."

"So..." The policeman's eyes finished the quick journey around the room and moved over to Gibson. "How was your first day?"

His friend grunted in response and licked his sticky fingers. "It could have been worse."

Antauri took a small bite out of his own doughnut and considered the doctor's words carefully. He swallowed. "How so?"

"I'd honestly rather not talk about it."

"Would you?"

"Yes."

He took another small bite and stared at the doctor pleasantly, wondering what on earth could have gone wrong. "...Alright then." He finished his pastry and slapped his hands together, relieving them of the crumbs and sticky sugar. "I shall be going then."

"So soon?" Gibson turned in his swivel chair, blinking in surprise as the officer put on his hat.

"Yes... I am afraid my break is coming to a close." Antauri nodded toward the clock and picked up his coffee, taking a contented sip from it. "I shall see you at home then?"

Gibson turned back to his work, reluctant and defeated. "Yes... I suppose... You be careful out there, you saavy?"

"I will... you too, Gibson."

The doctor picked at his paperwork, dropping his chin onto his palm, closing his eyes and sighing when he heard the door close and his comrade's footsteps fade away.

Holy Shuggazoom.

Nova spit out what appeared to be blood onto the pavement, fists clenched as they pounded the floor in fury.

Ho-ly Shuggazoom. Why did this have to happen to me?

She moaned weakly, unable to even move her legs, let alone stand up. They must've broken them as they joyously beat the tar out of her.

CRAP!

Her pride refused to allow her to call for help. She could only imagine what she would say when they asked what the heck happened to her.

Oh, I just stole a necklace from a gang, got chased down the street, and then got beat up for it. Can you help me out now?

They'd probably just say she deserved it but still help her out of pity. Yeah. Like that's ever gonna happen.

Sweat dripped down her face as she tried to at least slide herself away from the light. She swallowed, trying to gulp down any pain that should appear on her face. Pfft. I probably look like a mess now, too.

How long has it been since I passed out? An hour? Two hours? Maybe even three... but no more than three.

She coughed out some more blood. She grimaced in utter horror as she saw the small, dark red puddles she managed to gag out. What if I choke to death in my own blood? It's very well possible. She shuddered at this gruesome thought and tried to force them away from her mind.

"Oh, dear."

Nova lay down on her back and rolled to the side, her pink eyes dimly watching as a figure ran toward her.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm just perfect. More than perfect, actually. I really enjoy lying in this smelly alley and-*coff* -'ing my own blood out."

The figure ignored the sarcasm and carefully picked her up in his arms. She sunk her nose onto his shirt, sniffed, and made a face. He smelled just like rubber and strong medicine. Ugh. This just about completed what she called her perfect night.

"Don't you have a car?" Nova mumbled, her face still into his shirt.

"No, I don't."

"Whippee. Where are you taking me?"

"To my house. I would escort you to the hospital, but we are already so far. And besides... you don't look that bad off. My home is only a little ways away. I have enough alcohol and things to bandage you right up; If we need to use the hospital facilities then I'll only happily take you..."

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

"D'ya mind it if I fell asleep?" Nova interuppted, her face still well hidden in the depths of his shirt.

"No. By all means, go ahead."

"Great." Anything to shut you up.

Three minutes of silence...

"...So... what is your name?"

For the love of... "Nova."

"Hmm. Pretty name. And how old are you?"

"Seventeen..."

"A little young to be out this late at night, don't you think?"

"Great. Who d'you think you are, my-*coff*- father?"

"It was just a thought."

"Yeah? Well, mind your own-*coff*- business, gramps."

The male sighed, rolling his eyes. "You do know that I am not that much older than you? I am only seven years your senior."

"...Meaning?"

"I am twenty-four."

"Gee, you are old."

"...Here's an idea. How about we both stop talking altogether until I get us back to my home?"

"Deal."