It occurred to me a while ago that during the whole war with Black Ghost, the Cyborgs probably didn't stop to think about the mundane little necessities of modern life. Set shortly after the first defeat of Black Ghost.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Cyborg009. I just maul the characters from time to time.
Licence to Kill
Pyunma stared straight out the windscreen of the car, too fearful to take his eyes off the road that was passing beneath them so rapidly. The death grip he had on his chair hadn't lessened at all since the car had started moving, and he was fairly certain it was going to suffer some permanent damage if they didn't stop soon. Judging from the carefree smile on his partners' face, it didn't look like that was going to happen any time soon.
You really should have known better, remarked a snide voice in his head. Don't you remember what happened the last time you let Heinrich behind the wheel? The thought was little comfort, and the African man was left hoping that Albert would pick up on the mental signals he was trying to send and ease off the accelerator.
"Don't you think we should slow down a bit?" Pyunma asked, having decided that his nonexistent powers of telepathy weren't working. It was dangerous asking Albert anything while he was driving as the German had this alarming habit of taking his eyes off the road all together when talking.
"Don't worry so much. I did this for a living once." The serene smile on Albert's face completely belied his mad driving habits, and Pyunma wondered exactly how he'd managed to forget why nobody else let the silver-haired man drive. At least it explained Joe's sympathetic look when they'd left Doctor Gilmore's house.
"There are speed limits here, you know," Pyunma tried again.
"Those are just for people who don't know what they're doing," Albert replied confidently, navigating a sharp turn that threatened to send them off the road. For one terrifying moment, Pyunma felt the outside wheels of the car leave the road before Albert straightened them out again. The wheels came back down with an unhealthy thump, and Pyunma sent up a silent plea that when they'd finally come to a stop, it wouldn't be as a mangled mess against a tree.
Almost as an answer to his prayers there was the sudden wail of a siren behind them, and a quick check in the rear-view mirror revealed the familiar flash of lights that announced the presence of a police car.
"You'd better pull over," Pyunma said, trying to keep the relief out of his voice.
He could have sworn that Albert was pouting when he reluctantly slowed down – a process that took far longer than Pyunma was comfortable with – and came to a stop. Silence descended as they waited for the police to do the same, and glancing over his shoulder he saw an officer climb out and start walking towards them. He shifted nervously, as most people did when they knew they were in trouble, but Albert just seemed impatient to get moving again.
Taking more time than was strictly necessary, the policeman languidly ambled over and tapped on the window. Albert lowered it obligingly, treating the cop to his best charming smile. "Hello officer."
The cop peered at him over the top of his dark glasses, his mouth a straight line of disapproval. "Sir, do you have any idea how fast you were travelling?"
"No sir," Albert replied, feigning at innocence that would usually have made Pyunma laugh if he weren't still recovering from the ride.
Unfortunately for them, the officer did have an idea, and when he told them what it was Pyunma was fervently glad he hadn't been brave enough to check the speedometer while they had still been moving. The cop gave them a lecture about the rules of the road, which Pyunma easily tuned out. Albert, unfortunately, was forced to at least look like he was paying attention, and the former rebel allowed himself a small grin of amusement.
Serves him right…
"…and I'm afraid I'll have to give you a fine. Can I see your licence and registration?"
Having been occupying himself by staring out the window, Pyunma's vague musings were pulled up short by that comment. He exchanged an uncertain look with Albert, whose expression clearly told him what he needed to know.
"I…uh…don't have them."
The police officer paused, his expression becoming even more stern. "You don't have them with you?" The look on Albert's face was priceless, but Pyunma didn't know if he should be laughing or concerned.
We are in so much trouble…
"Don't have them…at all." Albert smiled sheepishly, but his careless façade was broken.
The policeman's face was worryingly bland as he inspected them with new interest. "Than I'm afraid we have a problem."
Doctor Gilmore's arrival to the police station was heralded by Jet's helpless laughter that could be heard even through the walls that blocked their view of the foyer. Albert scowl deepened upon hearing it, but Pyunma was forced to hide a grin of his own or risk the German's wrath. He couldn't decide if the whole situation was kind of sad or just ridiculously funny. They were cyborgs, superhuman warriors who defended the world from Black Ghost's machinations, and they had been sent to jail for driving without a licence.
All right, jail was probably not the right word. They'd been left in a small holding room while the police tried to figure out what to do with them. The room was tiny, bordering on claustrophobic, and there was absolutely nothing on interest to keep them occupied while they waited. Pyunma had been given the opportunity to leave – as he hadn't been the one behind the wheel – but he'd bravely volunteered to stay with Albert until Gilmore arrived. He'd kept himself occupied by wondering what kind of story the Doctor would cook up to get them out of here. Even though the situation was just plain silly, there was a chance that things could start going seriously wrong if the police decided to dig too deep.
It was such an idiotic technicality to get caught out on. They'd been working outside the boundaries of society for so long it simply hadn't occurred to them that they'd ever need any proof of identification. With Black Ghost gone and all the cyborgs trying to remember what normal life was like, your identity was something of vast importance in the modern world of civilisation, a concept that baffled Albert and Pyunma, who'd come from a time and place respectively where it hadn't been necessary.
If the police examined them too closely, they'd quickly figure out that neither of them had a visa, or a birth certificate, or any other kind of record that would explain their presence. Pyunma wasn't sure exactly what the laws were in such a situation but he got the feeling it would create a huge mess that would effectively ruin any anonymity they and had and risk exposing the fact that they were cyborgs. With that in mind, it had been a very long and nervous wait.
From the sounds of Jet's laughter, however, the aerial cyborg wasn't taking the whole situation very seriously which meant Gilmore had likely found a way around the problem. The thought was confirmed a moment later when a dark-haired policewoman opened the door and indicated they were free to go.
With an expression that promised swift death, Albert stalked into the main foyer, Jet's mirth making it easy to locate the others. Along with Doctor Gilmore, Joe was also present, alternating between telling Jet to keep his voice down and suppressing snickers of his own. Although Gilmore and Joe's presence were easily explained – as Joe had most likely driven the old man to the station – Pyunma secretly guessed that Jet was here for the sole purpose of pointing and laughing.
"Shut the hell up Jet," Albert snarled, obviously in a foul humour. His words had exactly the opposite effect they'd been intended for, as Jet simply bent double, clutching is stomach.
"I hope we didn't keep you boys waiting too long." Although his voice was steady, Gilmore's lips twitched every so often as he tried to retain his composure.
"Not at all," Pyunma injected before Albert could mutter a venomous reply. Now that the potential for danger had passed, the African man was willing to take his team mates amusement with a certain amount of good grace. He doubted Albert shared his point of view, and thought he'd better take steps before the walking arsenal said something he'd regret.
"Let's just go," Albert said shortly, still giving Jet a death-glare that went completely unnoticed. They were attracting an awful lot of attention from the people in the foyer, and Pyunma decided that wasn't such a bad idea.
"I can't breathe," Jet gasped between breaths, shoulders shaking from the effort. With a shared look of resignation, Pyunma and Joe each grabbed one of Jet's arms and pulled the helpless cyborg along with them.
"How long has he been doing this?" Pyunma asked Joe as they trailed after the German.
"Pretty much since we got the call." Now that Albert couldn't see it, Joe grinned widely. "Though it took us ten minutes to convince him we were serious."
Pyunma affected a mournful look. "We're not going to live this one down for a while, are we?"
"Not on your life," Jet managed, finally approaching a semblance of calm. He was even managing to walk on his own when they finally emerged in the afternoon sunlight.
After giving his eyes a moment to adjust, Pyunma froze at the sight he found there. That lasted only a moment, as with a sudden frantic burst of speed he tackled Albert to the ground, leaving everyone else staring in confusion until they realised that Albert had been about to enter the driver's side of the car.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Albert yelped, struggling against the weight on his back.
"Give me the keys! You're not driving."
"I always drive."
"After what you just put us through? Forget it!"
Jet started laughing again, while Joe and Gilmore simply watched the scuffle with tolerant bemusement
"Do you think we should break them up?" Joe asked, watching the two wrestle over the car key.
Gilmore watched them for a moment longer before replying, "I'm sure they can sort it out themselves." He headed towards Kozumi's car, which they'd had to borrow as the other two had been driving Gilmore's. "Let's go home."
-Fin