First, this fic is NOT exactly accurate to the series. In fact, it may even be considered AU, since I haven't seen all the episodes; Hannibal Roy Bean? Doesn't exist. Raimundo as Shoku Leader? Not happening. Basically, anything pertaining to Season 3 is void. And though I do my best to keep in sync with the over all events, my imagination often runs away with me. So if you see a mistake somewhere, feel free to tell me about it, just don't expect anything to change, 'cause chances are, I intended for it to be that way. My writing is what it is; you can take it or leave it. It's up to you.

Second, bear in mind that this fic takes on a more mature theme (at least more so than is usually intended for two characters from an animated kid's show), thus the general feeling will be more serious than the usual humurous undertone's the show is usually conveying. My general theory is that when the show began, everyone was around 13 or 14, and when it ends, they're around 16 or 17. And while I'm never terribly graphic-I even censor most of the curse words-it's worth mentioning that Jack and Kimiko are supposed to be 19, and well. . .19-year-olds rarely stay PG, you know?

Third, I apologize if either Jack or Kimiko seem OOC, especially Jack. Like I previously stated, they're supposed to be older and more mature, but I may have over-done it with Jack. He's not hard to keep in character really, it's just that I want so badly to turn him into a broody, angst-ridden anti-hero that it's riddiculous. I like to think he's not as goofy or dopey as he acts most of the time, so my personal views may reflect on his behavior. Try not to take it too seriously, 'kay?

Last but not least, all you Chase and/or Wuya fans out there won't like me very much, because I've killed them both off. Yeah, I just couldn't find a place for either of them in the plot (if there even is one) so they're both gone. I never really explain how they both die either, it's just assumed that there was a big battle between the Heylin's and Xiaolin's, and the monks came out on top. Vague, yes, but I'm too deep in Jack/Kim fluff right now to give a proper explaination; sorry. Just. . .sit back and try to enjoy the unlikely pairing, alright? -sheepish grin-

And just to fill your head with useless info, 'devil lily' is another word for 'tiger lily'. Now, on with the fic!

Oh, and I don't own Xiaolin Showdown.

Devil Lily

Chapter I - Ashes

Soundtrack / inspiration:

It's About Time - Lillix
Still Frame - Trapt
Freshman - Verve Pipe

Time is creeping behind me, surrounding around me
Fading the words so desperately
Now give me a reason that I can believe in
Time is something you can't rewind

It's About Time - Lillix

Two years.

Twenty-four months.

Seven-hundred and thirty days.

However it was worded or spoken would never matter, because the result would always be the same.

Only two years.

Psh. As if.

More like two decades.

That was Kimiko's Tohomiko's personal opinion, anyway. And in her own little world, where she was God, her opinions were the absolute truths. These days, she found herself retreating to this world more and more, as it gave her comfort in times of great stress.

Should she be alarmed by the increase in her trips to La-La Land?

Eh. Maybe.

Still, she couldn't argue with the facts, and the facts stated she'd only been away from the Xiaolin Temple for two years.

That didn't change her resolution that it felt a lot longer.

And she missed her former days as the Xiaolin Dragon of Fire. Terribly.

Oh, it wasn't that she didn't like being in Tokyo; not at all. Japan was her home, always was always would be, and it had that special "fuzzy" feeling that made her warm from body to soul. She treasured that feeling above all else.

It was this, combined with several other factors, that had prompted her departure from the temple in the first place.

Wuya was dead. Not even her ghost would come back to pester them anymore.

Chase Young was pushing up daisies beside her.

Only a few Shen Gong Wu remained unfound, and the one's that had been discovered were on the Xiaolin side, safely tucked away where prying hands couldn't reach them and were on constant gaurd.

Things had finally begun to slow down.

And one day, after a long list of chores had been checked off, Kimiko wasn't at all surprised to find a message from her papa waiting in her digital mail box. He thought it might be a good idea for her to attend college back home, and after some gentle coaxing, the 'young monk' agreed. Maybe a life away from constant global destruction and ancient Heylin threats would be. . .nice. Relaxing.

She may even find time for a little romance. The prospect of a boyfriend was exciting. . .

And so very foolish, too.

It didn't take long for Kimiko to realize that a strict college regiment, and a few dates scattered here and there, would never replace three years of adventure and friendship with her fellow dragons. She'd become an adrenaline junkie living with those three, and who would be surprised when she was fighting the forces of evil on a daily basis, not to mention feeling hard pressed to prove her ability in a group driven by testoserone? It didn't take much for her to gain respect, of course, but they always seemed to forget just why she'd been given the element of fire. She missed reminding them.

Not that they didn't keep in touch, mind. Before she left, Kimiko had miraculously convinced Mast Fung to install a telephone. Nothing too high tech, of course, but it would do for the purpose it served. For Clay and Omi, who did not have the luxury of cell phones, it was an easy way to reach her whenever they wanted. And they called often, keeping her up-to-date with the current events, which hadn't sped up in the least. Except for the occassional attempted raid or two, nothing had occured that would warrant her services as the Xiaolin Dragon of Fire once more.

That didn't change her longing to see them all, face to face, again; she'd even take doing chores all day if it meant being able to see their ugly mugs.

She missed them all so dearly, that it almost felt like it physically hurt. That couldn't possibly be healthy, not the way she figured. Making excuses for her growing addiction to escapism was one thing. . .this yen for the 'good ol' days' was another. It was starting to worry her, just a little. . .and was only a matter of time before her friends and family noticed. Kimiko was determined to find a solution before it came to that, which lead her to an arguable conclusion:

Something needed to happen. That was all. She needed to stimulate herself with something, anything, that caught her fancy, before her emotions ran away with her, taking her sanity along for the ride.

That's when her wish for more excitement in her life was uncerimoniously granted.

That's when she bumped into Jack Spicer.

Kimiko hated the 3-block walk from her classes main building to her dorm, not because it was strenuous-on the contrary, she rather enjoyed the exercise. When she was without companionship, however, it gave her too much time to think. . .and these days, pause for thought was not a welcome luxury. Luckily, keeping distracted was easy enough, especially with her active surroundings.

The busy streets of Tokyo, Japan were not kind to someone who wasn't prepared. A person who wasn't used to traveling in large crowds could easily be overwhelmed, and often stood out like a sore thumb.

To a native like Kimiko, however, public limitations were a familiar obstacle. She had learned over the years how to weave in, out, and around a sea of bodies, and at a prime age of 19, she was practically a pro. Still, mishaps (like tripping or spacing out), while consciously avoided, were not uncommon , and frankly, expected (especially wandering hands in compact spaces). They were dealt with accordingly, than promptly forgotten. Sometimes, a memorable event occured but that was rare, and for the most part, unwanted.

So when Kimiko's elbow accidently bumped into an unfamiliar body, she didn't think twice about it. In fact, she didn't even bother to look up as she mumbled an automatic "sorry" under her breath.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" was the offended reply. So familiar. . .

Two sets of feet froze at the same time.

All activity around them ceased.

And, somehow staying in sync, they both whirled around to face the other, seeking visual confirmation.

" Kimiko. . .!"

That voice.

The Japanese girl would not require her sight to affirm what she already knew. Her ears seemed to drown outside noises, 'til the memory of a voice less deep but simular in tone and pitch, echoed against the walls of her brain.

"Now that I've defeated you, perhaps you'll respect the genuis of Jack-"

"- Spicer!"