Hello everyone, and a happy new year to you all! First off, I'd like to apologize for deleting the first incarnation of Save Me, San Fransokyo. The trouble was that, as I went along, I realized that it was just too similar to the plot of the film, so I nixed the idea and came up with something that (I hope) is better. As I stated in the introduction of that first story, I haven't written Fanfiction in quite some time due to a busy schedule, so thank you for bearing with me. This story is set just after the events of Big Hero 6, but I've got just as much excitement and plot twists planned. Thank you so much for your readership, and I would greatly value your feedback!

The sun has just set by the time I reach the top of the Filbert Steps. Telegraph Hill comes to life at this hour, with Coit Tower lit up like an art deco monolith. Before me, shiny new cars are dropping off some of San Fransokyo's wealthier citizens for dinner at the Filbert Lounge. A large neon sign above the entrance to the tower spells out the restaurant's name in big red letters. Diners are greeted by a mustachioed maître d, who offers a smile and a wave of the hand before escorting them inside.

Gulping nervously, I fix my black bowtie, run a hand through my otherwise untamed hair, and straighten out my tuxedo. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I walk between the waiting cars and approach the maître d.

He is a tall, slim man, also wearing a tux. He smiles as I approach. "Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes," I reply with as much conviction as I can muster. "It should be under the name Tanaka. Adrian Tanaka."

The name sounds strange and foreign on my tongue. Giving my real name would have blown my cover, which is why I chose an alias when I made the reservation.

For a few seconds, he pores over his list, his right index finger scanning the sheet for my "name." "Ah, yes," he says once he's found it. Producing a menu from under his podium, he beckons me inside. "Right this way, sir." I almost breathe a sigh of relief as I step through the entrance.

Music fills the room, a steady, jazzy rumba. On a small stage in the center of the restaurant, a beautiful lady singer with a yellow flower in her hair croons out the words to the song while a four-piece ensemble accompanies her. All around me, elegantly dressed couples and parties are drinking wine and champagne and throwing their heads back in laughter.

So this is how the other half lives, I think to myself. Must be nice.

A minute or so later, we reach the table. The maître d hands me the menu with another smile. "A server will be with you shortly." Thanking him, I pretend to scan the menu, pressing a finger to my right ear.

"Guys," I whisper. "I'm in."

"Good," comes the response through the earpiece. It's Go-Go. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the corner table," I reply, scanning the surroundings. "I'm guessing the eastern wing of the tower. Where are you?"

"Put down your menu and look to your right…"

I do as she says. There, a few tables down, along the northern wall, sits Go-Go, resplendent in a sparkly black dress. She gives a tiny nod of acknowledgement, which I return. Seated across the table from her is Wasabi, dressed to the nines in a navy blue tux. He offers a small smile.

"And if you look to your left," another voice proceeds in my earpiece. "You'll see Fred."

Fred, always the joker, is a little more conspicuous. When I finally spot him, about four tables down, he waves enthusiastically from behind his menu. Giggling, I wave back, though decidedly less forcefully.

"So," I continue. "Do we have eyes on our guy?"

"Yep," Go-Go replies. "He's seated at the table closest to the stage."

Putting my menu down for a second, I scan the horizon dead ahead. There, seated next to the stage, is Luke O'Hanlan. He's a local arms dealer who's been causing nothing but trouble over the past few months. While initially the seller of illegal firearms, he's recently orchestrated a string of robberies that have targeted banks and jewelry stores in the Business and Union/Ginza districts respectively. His attacks have become even more brazen in recent weeks, striking in broad daylight and aiming his gun at civilians.

I scrutinize him further before I continue speaking. "He doesn't seem so tough." On the contrary, O'Hanlan nervously checks his surroundings at regular ten-second intervals.

"That's because he's unarmed," Wasabi says. "Give him a gun and he won't even think twice about pumping you full of lead."

Fred chips in. "So when do we strike?"

"In T-minus two minutes," Go-Go replies. "Honey Lemon, are you in position?"

"I'm all set," she answers in a whisper. She's outside, hidden in the bushes next to the entrance, ready to strike if our guy attempts to escape.

"How about you, big guy?" I ask.

"I am already in position," Baymax responds, matter-of-factly. He, too, is outside, waiting near the top of the Filbert Steps to prevent O'Hanlan from getting away. "I will use karate if necessary."

I laugh. "You do that, buddy," I add with a chuckle.

"We're down to one minute, guys," Go-Go says. "Remember, we're not here to take him down. We're here to take him in. Are we clear?"

A resounding "yes" from each of us ends the conversation. For the next sixty seconds, I sit at the edge of my seat, heart pounding with a speed that almost makes my head spin. Normally, I wouldn't be nervous to take down a "bad guy," but O'Hanlan is known for violent behavior and showing no mercy. I fear for my friends' safety, to say nothing of my own.

"Alright, guys," Go-Go says abruptly, interrupting my thoughts. "Let's move."

Tossing my menu aside, I say a few words to myself for protection before rising from my seat and making my way over to O'Hanlan with Go-Go, Wasabi, and Fred. Right as I'm leaving, a server passes my table, carrying a tray with a steamy teacup.

"Is that tea?" I ask, pointing at the tray.

"Yes," she replies, confused. "It's green tea."

Seizing the cup, I down its contents in one gulp. Digging in my pocket, I place a few bills on the tray. "Thanks," I croak, leaving the server with a puzzled expression.

I arrive at O'Hanlan's table just in time to hear Go-Go say, "Luke O'Hanlan, we're taking you in for charges of theft, assault, and rob—"

She doesn't get to finish her sentence. He flips the table, causing the four of us to fall over. The commotion incites yelps and gasps of shock and confusion from the patrons. The singer and the music have stopped as all attention turns to us.

"Honey Lemon, he's headed for the door," Go-Go shouts, her finger on her earpiece.

"Got it!"

"Baymax, be at the ready!" Go-Go adds.

The three of us rush toward the door, Wasabi staying behind a minute to calm everyone's nerves. "It's alright, people. We're merely here to apprehend a criminal," he says, his hands up in reassurance. "Everything's under control."

When we're outside, Honey Lemon has leapt into action from her hideout in the bushes. O'Hanlan pathetically holds a dinner fork before him in self-defense.

She laughs at this display. "Really? Is that all you've got?" She aims one of her "chem balls" at his feet. It explodes in a flash of blue, gluing him to the spot.

"Ha," she says, pumping her fist in victory. "That was easy…"

In a flash of stainless steel, the fork flies through the air, grazing her cheek. "AH!" she cries, falling over. A deep gash in the side of her face immediately draws blood. Fred's at her side in an instant, taking the handkerchief from his breast pocket and gently applying pressure to the wound.

"Are you alright?" I ask, standing over her.

"Yeah," she exhales, exasperated. "I'm fine."

Go-Go appears at my side, looking concerned. "O'Hanlan's gone. I don't know how he broke through the chemical compound, but he's escaped. The fork was merely a distraction."

Wasabi kicks gravel, cursing under his breath. My eyes scan the area where the arms dealer stood just seconds before.

"Hey, where's Baymax?"

It's Fred who asks the question. Pressing my finger to my ear, I repeat the query. "Baymax, where are you?"

The signal is fuzzy. "I am apprehending the bandit."

A thud on the gravel driveway catches our attention. O'Hanlan is lying in a fetal position, his lower lip cut, dirty blotches covering the skin on his face. His left eye is swelled shut.

Baymax, in his red armor, thrusters blazing, lands on the ground before us.

"Way to go, Baymax!" I raise my fists in victory.

The huggable robot stands there, tilting his head like a curious puppy. "I had to use karate."

I laugh once again. "Whatever works, buddy." The two of us do a congratulatory fist-bump.

The restaurant patrons, who have gathered outside to witness the action, erupt into spontaneous cheers and applause. To add icing to the cake, O'Hanlan spits out a bloody tooth. Baymax then proceeds to haul him off to the nearest police precinct, but not before he gazes at us with horror in his eyes. "Who—Who are you people?!"

For some reason, I think of my brother, Tadashi. I lost him a little over four months ago. When he was alive, he always wanted to help people, and that's what my friends and I have vowed to do, not just for him, but for San Fransokyo as well.

With a smirk, I give him my answer. "Haven't you heard? We're the Big Hero 6!"

To be continued…Chapter Two coming soon!