For the four of them, it was a normal day. The sun was out. The birds were chirping. The air was clear and crisp. The trees swayed in the England breeze, and the picturesque setting was just one of many that they'd already visited. A small village of thatched roofs and pastures rolled along in the distance. Livestock trundled away from the foursome, and clouds drifted along the blue sky.

And they were fighting supernatural creatures that had Gatling gun attachments and nasty superpowers to boot.

It was a normal day, after all.

"Get out of my way!" Lavi hastily sidestepped as Kanda thrust a sword straight through the midsection of an Akuma, and the redhead squeaked as he realized that he'd been mere milliseconds away from being impaled.

"Ne, Yuu, careful with that thing! Hell, you nearly turned me into a shish-kebab!" Lavi complained as he twirled his hammer around a finger. Allen flew past the two, and he smacked into a tree. Lavi winced in sympathy, and Kanda merely scoffed.

"Glassy-eyed little -"

"Ouch. Poor Allen..." The aforementioned white-haired Exorcist stood up and brushed himself off with a huff. The Akuma that had thrown him, a Level Two that looked like he belonged in a carnival rather than the Devil's army, flexed one of his massive biceps. Already in a tiff, Allen gave a small, polite sigh as he revved up his new arm. It'd been just a few weeks since he'd gotten the upgraded version; memories of its evolution were still ingrained in his head.

"Lavi! Pay attention! Idiot Apprentice!" Bookman suddenly came in, flying from above, and he landed swiftly on top of Lavi's head with both feet. Lavi pinwheeled, attempting to stay balanced with the old man's shoes firmly planted on his cranium, and he protested loudly. Allen was momentarily distracted by the shenanigans of his fellow coworkers, and so he completely missed the Akuma suddenly slashing his way towards him. Luckily, Allen had enough foresight to realize that it was going to charge, and he leaped up and over the Strongman abomination.

"Geez! You guys are loud..." Allen muttered under his breath as he slashed the Akuma open and killed it, releasing the trapped soul bound to the body. Kanda gave his usual input, a sharp 'tch', and Allen surveyed the area. His monocle-eye had reverted back to normal, so that must mean there weren't any new Akuma in the area.

"I think that's all of them," Allen said, and Lavi finally lifted Bookman off of his head.

"Let go of me! I'm your master, and I refuse to be manhandled!" Bookman protested, completely livid. Lavi rolled his one eye, and he said, "Hey, I think I've got a right to manhandle you when you're standing on my skull." The Junior Bookman put his elder on the ground, and Kanda was already beginning to walk towards the village.

"We'd better get moving," Kanda shouted over his shoulder, and the three looked at each other. What was his rush? Maybe he just wanted to get back to the Order, though that was awfully strange for Kanda.

"You think he's hungry or something? He's not usually this hasty," Lavi noted, staring after his friend. Allen shrugged, and he said, "I don't really care. We can stick around for a bit, and he can go back. I want to see what's in the ruins. Isn't that what this place is famous for?" Bookman shifted his aching feet.

"Yes - Blarney castle isn't much farther than a day's walk, but by the time we get there it'll be nightfall. I have to agree with the swordsman. We should head back. The church will have an Ark opening waiting for us. No need to dally," the old man grumbled, walking in the same direction that the samurai had taken. Lavi scratched the back of his head, fingering his headband, before he said, "I have to agree with them. I don't want to be caught in the ruins in the middle of the night, and I really would rather not be in the woods that late either."

"Still remembering Crowley's castle?" Allen joked as they began walking. Lavi shuddered playfully.

"Yes. A Bookman's like an elephant. He doesn't forget things. Even if he wants to," Lavi said, a note of remorse in his voice. Allen frowned as he stared at his friend, but he was duly distracted when he noticed that Kanda and Bookman were standing the middle of the road.

"Hey, what's the hold up?" Lavi asked curiously, and Allen noted a strange smell in the air. It was like... like a mix of juniper, tar, and... something else. Something... something very old. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that smell.

"You smell that?" Kanda asked. Lavi took a sniff, and he began noticing it as well. Bookman's brow was furrowed deeply with lines of consternation and swift memory.

"We need to leave. Now," Bookman said, beginning a fast pace down the road. The other three followed suit, the hairs on their arms standing at attention in apprehension. Some deep part of them recognized this smell, and that deep part was mighty unhappy to be there at that moment.

"What's the matter, Jiji? I don't remember anything like this," Lavi asked in their language, catching up. Even if I feel like I should, he thought to himself.

"It was before your time, Apprentice. There was a war, like always, and this smell..." Bookman trailed off as he thought, and Lavi knew that it had to be bad if Bookman of all people was worried. Not much phased the old guy, but when it did that meant it was something pretty spectacular. The air suddenly turned cold, and Allen whispered, "There's something wrong here..." Kanda grunted affirmation as the wind moaned through the trees.

Before anyone of them could react, a massive rip opened and swallowed them. On the inside there was a massive nothingness, so massive that it engulfed them completely and utterly. It was a suffocating place, as if they were being stretched and squeezed and pushed and pulled in different directions all at once.

And then, almost seemingly out of nowhere, everything reverted back to normalcy with a resounding wump. All four landed on their backs and stomachs as if a giant had picked them up and thrown them back down. Kanda immediately attempted to stand, but his feet seemed to slip out from underneath his body. He fell down in a disoriented pile, and he grumbled, "What... the hell was that!" Bookman lifted himself on hands and knees, panting. Lavi rolled over onto his stomach with a low whine, his head ringing. Allen had curled up into a ball, his head nearly tucked between his knees as he groaned. The world seemed to be spinning ten times faster than its normal rate.

"Did... was that Road? Is she messing with us again, or what?" Lavi asked, scrambling to get on his feet as he realized that they could very well be attacked in the next few moments. He keeled over to the side, landing in a pile of trash. Kanda sat up against a wall, and all four Exorcists sat there with their heads reeling and their hearts hammering.

They were in an alleyway between two buildings. It was fairly wide - there was enough room for a small automobile to pass through between them, granted the tin lizzie was stripped of its siders and mirrors. They weren't sitting on cobblestones, however. It was some strange sort of black concrete, though grainier and less uniform. It was rough, not at all like any concrete or cobblestone or regular quarry stone that they knew. Trash was everywhere, but the trash in itself was strange. Most of it was made of a clear type of material that was almost like glass, but more flexible and not sharp. There were wrappers of a kind strewn about that looked like they were made of metal.

"Don't worry, young apprentice. This is no trick of the Noah," Bookman grumbled, grunting as he stood up. He wobbled and swayed, but he managed to remain upright. Kanda, not about to be outdone by a man probably three times his age, stood as well, but he required the help of a wall. Lavi didn't even try. He sat up clumsily and began to crawl over to Allen.

"Then where are we? What just happened?" Lavi panted. His head was still spinning, and the world continued to tilt to the left. He felt disoriented and confused, but he was beginning to regain his mental capacities.

"I was once in a war that constituted of two factions, both of them... very volatile. That smell was very close to a marker that showed where one faction had occupied due to their use of their chosen weapons," Bookman ground out. "They used magic, but they required specific rituals in order to access it. We must have been caught in some sort of residual deposit."

"That doesn't answer where we are," Kanda said. Lavi looked over Allen with a furrowed brow. The younger man was sweating profusely, and he looked ill. The redhead attempted to get him to his feet, but Allen seemed to be stuck in a stupor.

"Well... we can find that out shortly," Bookman said, eying the trash. He quickly began to rifle inside one of the broken bags lying in the accumulated refuse. He noted that the bag itself was made of a strange material as well. It was a black, stretchy sort of fabric - no, it was not even a fabric. It was a continuous, single whole, and yet it stretched like elastic. Bookman sorted through broken pieces of a strange, thick papery material (which he attributed must be some sort of cardboard), paper fliers, and bottles. There was a lot of food, all of which he recognized (thank whatever higher power there may be). Finally, he found what he was looking for. It was a local flier, from the looks of it, but it was printed in a strange, smooth ink on pink paper.

" 'Relliner's Deli - open all day every day... Ah. Walston's Street, Wichita Falls, TX. We're in America," Bookman mused quietly, and Kanda noted incredulously, "We shifted that far?"

"You shouldn't be surprised," Bookman grumbled. "The Ark has taken us farther." Kanda rolled his eyes, hiding his chagrin. Lavi looked perplexed as he shifted Allen into a position where he could lean on him.

"But... Bookman, Wichita Falls -"

"I know, Lavi. I know." Allen finally seemed to snap out of his comatose state to gasp, "What's the matter? What about Wiki...Chiwi... whatever city we're at?"

"Wichita Falls is currently an itty bitty town in Texas in 1865. Allen, does this look like an itty bitty town?" Lavi asked. Kanda shook his head.

"What if it's a flyer from some other city? And it just ended up in the trash?" Kanda asked. They fell silent as they thought about that possibility.

Huh. They hadn't considered that.

"Where ever we're at, it's not any place we know. Look at these," Bookman said, pulling something else out of the trash. It was a long string with a little, metal bit sticking out on one end that had painted, imbedded rings around it and two white buds branching off from the main string. It was made of something white and rubbery, but it didn't feel like rubber. It was a little too soft and springy to be the vulcanized rubber that they were used to.

"Maybe they just have better technology than we do. America is pretty advanced..." Lavi said, but skepticism colored his voice like a rainbow paintbrush. Kanda suddenly began to walk down the alleyway at a loping shuffle, bobbing and weaving as he tried to get his sense of balance back. It was starting to worry him that he hadn't gotten his sense of coordination sorted out yet. Usually his body regulated these sorts of things much faster.

"Kanda, where are you going?" Bookman asked. Kanda answered over his shoulder, "I'm going to figure out where the hell I am. Unlike you losers, I don't dig around through trash; I ask people where I am." As the samurai continued down the alley, Bookman and Lavi looked at each other. Allen clung heavily to Lavi, his breathing becoming shallow and his skin taking on a clammy feel. Lavi cast a worried glance at both his compatriots, one going away and the other clinging somewhat desperately. Bookman started to follow Kanda, and Lavi followed behind.

"Any idea where we are, Jiji?" Lavi asked in a laborious voice as he tried to walk and support Allen while keeping his balance. Bookman was quiet for a time before saying, "Yes. I have many ideas. I don't like any of them." That did nothing to comfort the redhead as they made slow progress around a corner. Kanda's plodding, but quickening, footsteps seemed to echo ahead of them.

"And Allen? What's wrong with him?" Lavi inquired, natural curiosity blending with ill-hidden concern. Bookman cast a rather harsh glance at Lavi, and the young apprentice realized that he was becoming too attached again. Bookman, however, seemed to pardon the breach in detachment, and he answered, "Dimension sickness. He'll be fine in a day or two." Lavi didn't ask how Bookman knew. He'd long stopped asking how the old man came to know certain things.

In a dark room, a young woman sat and waited, the smoke clearing from the room as a fan sucked it into a vent. The candles shuddered under the sudden intake of air, and the young woman's brow furrowed as nothing happened.

The circle inscribed in the floor in front of her remained completely inactive. Her eyes flashed as she wondered what she did wrong.

The coven had retrieved everything she'd needed - live budgies and several different rats, a stray cat, even a childfor some added oomph, pig tallow candles, several different herbs (three of which were technically illegal in the United States of America, but who cared about that?), the necessary spell books, a metal drawing rod to create the circle, everything. She'd even gotten rid of a few people she'd been meaning to deal with to get the energy needed for the stupid summoning.She'd done exactly as the books had said, and yet somehow, nothing was happening. There'd even been the corresponding smells of juniper, crushed bone, and old blood with a hint of overturned earth, and there was absolutely nothing in the circle. The summoning had somehow been... misconstrued. At the very least, it had been inconvenienced. This was very distressing, however. Whatever she'd summoned was out and about now.

The young woman brushed back dyed black hair, her whitened face growing whiter as she stood up and raced around the ten-foot diameter circle drawn in the floor of the main summoning room meant specifically for this purpose. She muttered to herself, going over the points of the circle where she'd placed the appropriate articles meant for summons. Here was the jasper, here was the sapphire, here was the Book, here was her hair for binding, and here was -

She stopped, staring at the last point on the circle. At that moment, the lights turned on as a young girl of probably fourteen asked, "Iris, when are we having dinner? Josey and Cora won't stop whining, and -" The younger girl's eyes widened as she realized that she'd interrupted something. The young woman on the edge of the circle had her jaw set tight, and the intruder slowly began to back away.

"Daphne. Stop where you are," Iris ground out. The fourteen-year-old stood still, her blue eyes bigger than dinner plates. Her bottom lip began to quiver as fear washed over her. She usually didn't fear her coven leader - but seeing her like this, radiating displeasure like some sort of beacon of hate, had awakened a deep seated terror. Iris turned around slowly, her smile plastered to her face like a sickly sweet painting that seemed... off somehow.

"When was the last time you were in here?" Iris asked. Daphne scrambled for an answer.

"I-I w-w-was trying to r-read and I kind of... I knew that... Iris, I just need to - OW OW, STOP STOP STOP! THAT HURTS! LET GO!" Iris dragged Daphne by the hair a point on the circle and forced her to her knees. The younger girl cowered on the ground as Iris twisted a fistful of the girl's blonde and brown hair. She let out a whimper as Iris hissed sweetly, "See those? I believe they're yours. Do they look fa-mil-iar to you?" Daphne's eyes sprouted tears, blurring the cover of the three manga books that she'd left inadvertently on top of a spell book in the summons room.

The faces of three characters, one a redhead with an eyepatch, the other with hair that was almost blue and looking dour, and one with bright gray eyes and white hair, seemed to stare at her noncommittally as if to say 'we have nothing to do with this; this is your fault and yours alone.' Daphne scrambled to take back her hair, but Iris' grip was strong.

"Do you know how many different people I had to have Darius take out to get enough power for this circle?" Iris asked, suddenly yanking the younger girl's head up so she could see the sacrificial ring of the circle. Inside, she could make out the bodies of several birds, a cat, and what appeared to be a human doll, though it seemed much too lifelike.

"You just ruined about an entire year of planning, requisition, and soulmongering... so don't expect to get off easy. You break it, you bought it, honey," Iris whispered in Daphne's ear. The coven leader let Daphne drop to the ground, and the younger girl curled up in a ball of pain, fear, and self-debasement. She shuddered under sobs, and Iris caustically sniffed, "Quit your whining get to dinner. Tell Josey and Cora to suck their own spit or get their stupid transfig spells right so they can turn floppy disks into toast and eat that. God, why I stay with you people is beyond me."

Daphne got up tearfully and walked out of the room with her head bowed low. Iris made sure give her a swift slap to the head as she walked out. Daphne didn't even squeak. When the door had closed, Iris rubbed her chin in contemplation. She'd trained them well. They didn't even bother to fight back. That was good - it made them easier to work with. After all, coven leaders needed three things from their respective charges - obedience, love... and fear. Without any one, the entire coven fell apart. It seemed that Iris wasn't such a bad coven mother after all.

She picked up one of the manga books lying in the spot where her main spell book on Hell's regions was supposed to have been. It appeared the sheer mass of pages had somehow overrode the main spell book. Magic could be funny that way.

She read the cover to herself. "-Man?... Sounds horrible." She flipped through several pages of the volume, skimming the art. She quickly became bored, and she dropped it casually back into the pile. She must've summoned that universe's characters or things from that universe. This was going to be a right pain to track down. She couldn't attempt a summons unless everything from the first summons was sent back. It would void the contract made with the circle, and voiding a contract on a circle was as good as putting a fully loaded gun to your head and pulling the trigger in a game of no-win Russian Roulette.

She began to walk out as she listened to the chatter of girls. Her eyes traced the outlines of the iron-chip circle she'd made with her metal smudge rod. She'd have to get the sacrificial stuff cleaned up tomorrow. Any of the girls walking in and finding this would end in utter mayhem. From now on, the summons room was off limits. She turned off the light and walked out, closing the door with a smack of finality.

"This... wasn't what I was expecting," Lavi panted. They'd stepped out into some sort of neighborhood. Cars were everywhere, but they were... they were so different. If Lavi hadn't seen early prototypes of Ford's tin lizzies, he'd have no idea what these vehicles were. They were streamlined, nearly bulbous. He shifted Allen again, noting that the younger boy was beginning to falter. At one point, Allen had literally fallen over completely, and if Lavi hadn't been there to hang on to him he would've fallen straight into the gutters of the street. Kanda was already in the middle of the strange, concrete road. He was conversing with someone wearing odd clothes.

It was a man of what looked to be Hispanic descent wearing an odd sort of sweater with a hood made of a seamless fabric that wasn't wool and wasn't cotton, pants that sagged like a skirt around his buttocks, and shoes of the strangest sort that looked to be made of a type of thick material tied with laces. All together, he didn't look very friendly, especially with how he glared at Kanda. Then again, Kanda himself had a glare on his face more often than not, so maybe that was just how the stranger looked.

"Why you askin', huh, man? Are you yankin' my chain?" the other man asked defensively, and Kanda grounded out, "Just answer the question. Where am I?" The stranger spit on the ground.

"54th and Stemson Street," the man answered begrudgingly. He stuck something in his ear, the same sort of white bud-on-a-string that Bookman had pulled out of the trash, and he began to walk away. Kanda narrowed his eyes, and as he began to walk away he accidentally knocked his shoulder into the other man, brought on by the sudden loss in balance from the dimension jump he'd suffered. The other man stared wide-eyed as Kanda realized what he'd done, and he said, "Hang on a second -"

"Aw, hell naw, man, I ain't doin' this -" Kanda instinctively gripped the handle of his sword, and the other man, seeing the move towards a weapon, immediately reached underneath his sweater for something. Kanda, realizing what was going on, freed the sword from his sheath, deciding that he wasn't going to be afraid to use a weapon in a place where Akuma could potentially still exist. Lavi watched the entire thing with an air of apprehension, and his single eye grew as he watched the other man pull out a large, heavy black pistol. Though it was much blockier and starker than a revolver, Lavi still understood the basic function and look of a gun regardless of time or place.

"Kanda! Careful!" Lavi warned as the two faced off.

"You put the sword down," the Hispanic warned in fluent English. Kanda continued to stand his ground.

"You put down the gun, and we'll talk about me putting down the sword," Kanda ground out, his eye twitching. This was getting really old really fast. People were beginning to peer in from different windows and doorstops, and Bookman felt a little bit uncomfortable in this suddenly tense atmosphere. The place had the feel of a war zone despite lacking all of the usual features of a battlefield. They were drawing unneeded attention.

"H-hey, guys, can we not do this right now?" Lavi asked, and both stalemated men shouted in unison, "NO!" They stared at each other before returning to glaring. They looked odd, one with a long coat and a sword, the other wearing a hoodie, baggy jeans, and wielding a gun. For several tense seconds, they stood like that, and Lavi wondered if they'd ever move. The Hispanic guy finally started to lower his gun, and he was like, "You know what, fine. Ain't my problem. You want my advice? Get out of here, and quick. You guys look like wackos and nerds - they'll eat you up here."

"Who will?" Kanda asked, suddenly interested. He'd never heard of a nerd or a wacko, and it didn't sound good, but he was interested in what sort of person would want to attack a man with a sword. It might make for an interesting fight.

"What are you, from Mars? The gangs, dumb ass!" the man said. All of a sudden, a car started, and the exhaust let out a loud crack of discharge as the car backfired. Instinctively, the man shouted as he let off a loud shot, and Kanda, also on instinct, deflected the bullet - straight into Lavi's side.

The Bookman Junior's eyes grew wide as he realized that he was bleeding profusely from a hole on the right side of his abdomen. The Hispanic man was beginning to curse vehemently, and he stowed the gun and ran.

"Lavi!" Bookman shouted as Lavi collapsed to one knee. Allen woke up with a jolt, and he gasped, "What the... huh? What's going on?" Kanda stared in amazement as he realized that he'd accidentally injured his comrade. Finally catching up to that fact, Kanda hurried over as Lavi keeled over in pain. Blood was beginning to pour out in earnest now, and the people who'd so curiously looked out the windows were retreating.

"Hey... Hey! I need help over here! Someone call a doctor!" Kanda shouted at the apartments lining the street. No one answered.

Snapping into action, Bookman sat Lavi down as he began to pad the wound with strips of his sleeve.

"Wow... that actually hurt. Heh, not anything like when I was little, though, huh, Bookman?" Lavi said sardonically, wincing as the stinging sensation began to soar. Allen was amazed that Lavi could be so glib, but then he remembered that Lavi had been in more wars than most men saw in a life time. He was probably used to being shot at... or being shot.

"Pft. This time, you won't be ripping out my hair. Not if I can help it," Bookman grumbled, though Allen could see a trace of concern run over his lined face as he continued to apply pressure. Lavi was slowly draining of color. Kanda was knocking on doors and asking for help, but for the most part he was getting blank looks and apathetic ignorance. After five minutes, he finally came back and said, "Someone's sending for help. Managed to get a hospital." Kanda fidgeted, undeniably restless by the fact he had to stay in one place and that one of his (dare he say it) f-...f-...fri-... compatriots could be dying.

"Geez, Yuu, you're not going to even say sorry? That hurts," Lavi joked, trying to bring some levity to the situation. His shirt was stained a deep red by now, reaching up to his chest. How much blood could one person hold? Kanda didn't even look at him as he said, "It was an accident. I don't have to say sorry, you idiot." Nevertheless, both Bookman and Allen noted that Kanda had not protested to the use of his given name, a telling gesture.

By the time an ambulance arrived, Lavi was nearly unconscious, and Allen was sweating profusely as his strange malady continued to assail him. Bookman took care of the conference between their group and the men who had stepped out of the large, strange car. It didn't look all that different from a regular ambulance, save the difference in color, body design, and equipment. The fundamentals were all still there.

"And you say this happened about forty minutes ago?" the man asked, rubbing his forehead. He carried a small, metal notepad with a metal spiral through the top as well as what appeared to be a pencil made of some sort of clearish, hard material that needed to be clicked in order to work. He wore a strange uniform of a white collared, pocketed shirt, white hat, and light pants over the same, strange rubber shoes with laces.

"Yes. Forty seven minutes ago, to be exact," Bookman said as he watched his apprentice loaded on a very complex looking stretcher. Yes, the fundamentals were all the same... Hopefully, the complexity of the technology matched directly with their efficiency.

"You'll need to file a police report once we get you all to the hospital. Your friend there doesn't look good either. You sure you don't want him checked out?" the man asked, and the small geriatric shook his head pensively.

"We know what ails him, and it should pass in the next day," Bookman answered. The two watched as Kanda and Allen were also put inside of the ambulance.

"We're allowed to come along?" Bookman asked. The medical technician nodded.

"Luckily, there aren't that many of you. We usually only allow one member, but seeing as the three of you look a little lost, we can probably take you back to the hospital to get sorted out. Besides, uh... where are you from?" the tech asked, suddenly curious. Bookman imagined that a man in his profession probably saw all sorts of people and problems, most of which were hard to explain or at the least gruesome enough (or illegal enough) to warrant turning a blind eye.

"We're from... abroad. We apologize for the inconvenience."

"No, no, that's fine with us. Though, as a word of advice, I think it'd be best if you moved to a safer neighborhood. It's getting dark here, and it gets even rougher at night. You all look... vulnerable," the man said, a distinct twang to his voice. Bookman nodded.

"We hope to receive lodgings somewhere in the city. We are... very lost. We arrived here by rather unconventional means," Bookman said, hoping that perhaps this man could give him ideas on where to begin searching for a cheap, clean place to sleep. A mission, perhaps, or a shelter would be good. The med tech was not overly verbose about it.

"I don't know. The hospital may be able to put you up for the night, but after that you'll be on your own. That man of yours needs first aid. Which reminds me, we'd better go," the medical technician said, and Bookman followed suit as they headed towards the ambulance. He looked behind him, surveying the quiet street. In the distance, he heard a single gunshot in the night, and despite his habituation towards gunshots, he felt a shiver pass through him. Memories flooded back, especially concerning the roots of his hair where it had barely managed to grow back after Lavi had nearly ripped all of it off. Seven year olds had a surprisingly firm grip.

He climbed in the waiting car, and they left.

"Hey! Hey, Miles! Get over here for a minute," Kincaid yelled out into the hall. Miles, a young woman of probably nineteen, brushed back a strand of straggling, wavy hair with an exasperated sigh. Kincaid was her mentor, and he was notoriously lazy. If he was calling her over, he wanted her to do something.

Or he wanted to make certain, suggestive comments about her back end. She didn't mind the back end comments as long as he admired without getting touchy-feely, but she hated juggling all his legwork. It was tiring.

She waltzed into his office, a desk in the midst of a small, glass-plated room. She crossed her arms, and she shifted her weight to her left leg. These days, she favored her left more and more, and Kincaid had begun to notice with that perceptive look of his. Still, he made no comment, and for that she was grateful.

"I've got a police report going on down there in the hospitals, and I want you to go and do it for me. I'm a little busy tonight," Kincaid said, throwing a stress ball in the air and catching it. He was a thin faced, long-toothed man with blond hair that was beginning to gray around the edges of his temples, a long patrician nose, a thin though wide mouth, and eyes that were like chips of glass when he was focused. Miles didn't mind him too much. In fact, most of the time he was downright pleasant to work under. His unfortunate habit of commenting on her dress and appearance was definitely outweighed by just how easy it was for him to teach her the tricks of the trade. Wichita Falls had just begun a mentoring program, and Miles was the first to try this new system. So far, it was going pretty good.

Well, when she wasn't being run to death across God's green earth. It seemed that this wasn't one of her resting periods.

"Why are you sending me? Isn't that a suit job?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Most of the pencil pushers were the ones who took police reports anyways, and besides a hospital could just fill out the form and turn it in. They didn't need a uniform down there to look over the thing.

"Well, see, I'm thinking that this is one of your cases," Kincaid said, leaning his head to the side. The two shared a look, and Miles swallowed. Ah. It was one of those.

"What makes you think that?" she asked. He handed her a file, and she took it. It wasn't hefty, probably only eight pages long. She flipped through, seeing names she didn't recognize, but... the other details were telling.

"Darius?" she asked quietly. Kincaid nodded.

"They were in very close proximity. And I know how you feel about Darius and his little gang of thugs down there in their Little Corner of Heaven," he said, smirking as he used his rather ironic euphemism for the seedier part of the city. Miles nodded.

"What makes you think this is one of her doings?" Miles asked. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly seven o' clock. Cam was going to be pissed if she didn't come home before nine. She'd promised to help her with her algebra homework. As much as Miles loved her little sister, that didn't mean she wasn't a freaking pain in the -

"Because all of these are pretty similar to another case I'm sure you're very familiar with," Kincaid said, and Miles closed her eyes. She opened them again, flashing hazel as she finally admitted, "Fine. I'll go see to it. Though this is probably a false alarm."

"Think of this as a hunch," Kincaid said. Miles rolled her eyes, and she began to walk out.

"Hey! You forgot something!" Kincaid shouted, and Miles looked back in confusion. She'd carried everything out of his office...

He held up a strip of paper with a number on it, and he said, "What, you don't want my number?" She rolled her eyes, and she left behind a wake of snickering other young police officers and clerks. She was the butt of their department's jokes, but she took it in stride. At least she was chummy with everybody, more than she could say for some people.

As she walked outside to her car, she felt a weight settle in her gut. She didn't like this in the least. She didn't like this at all.

A/N: This is a sort of crossover/AU-ish story, but it will not go into the crossover section as it doesn't cross into a known literary universe, just the one that I've created for purposes of plot. Hopefully, this is a good kick off, and I'd like to tell me how you enjoy it so far.

As with every story, I will have discussion questions. For this one, I want to know: would you like more canon characters besides the four already included? Is there anything in particular that you think would be funny? So far, what are the high points of this chapter? Is it a good beginning? Have I stepped into the realm of horrible AU/Crossover fiction?

Please and thank you! God bless and good reading.