Narrator: WHAT HAPPENED IN THE LAST EPISODE? .... I MISSED THE LAST EPISODE, OKAY? SO SUE ME. Standard content warning applies. C&C, Flames, Anything, welcome at: rick_spiff@yahoo.com Posted at Insanity Production's home page: http://www.geocities.com/rick_spiff/ ~ Begin fic ~ [Opening Music is Metallica's 'Enter Sandman' as loud as you can play it. A montage of shots flash by to the bars of the song, mostly of the Sidestep cast and various Eva characters dressed in kick-ass clothes and shooting things out of frame. Splattered here and there among the characters are various explosions for variety.] ---------- Title Flash: SIDESTEP:EVANGELION Episode 2: Memiors and Failures/ Is That My Car or Yours? ---------- [Music cuts out.] [EXT. TOKYO-3 SKYLINE - NIGHT.] [Overlay date and place:] T O K Y O - 3 , 2 0 0 7 . [Cut to a street downtown. It's late, but we see James and Miko walking down here at a leisurely pace. James' trenchcoat is around Miko, but he looks comfortable and confident. They're talking in soft tones, but since there isn't much background noise, they can be heard easily. Most of the shops and small restaurants look closed in this area. Continued from the end of Episode 1, this conversation is in Japanese.] Miko: First question? James: Bomb away. Miko: Thanks for making me a part of your little team, but I have to wonder. Was that safe? James: With Dave around, it's always safe. He's invented the ultimate bug-proofer. If he talks openly about it, no one can listen in... at least, no one that can cause trouble. Dave's a sharp guy, and we all carry around stuff the military could only imagine they might wish for. Second question? Miko: What about you guys being 'CT' people? James: The Counter-Terrorism stuff. Ah, well, that's the real heavy stuff. I started out as an assassin, but got out of the business. Godless bunch of fucking hypocrites. Dave at least had some direction. Then, with him, Ed, and plenty of others, we sort of just worked together fighting off Takona's goons for about a year. After that, we realized we could work together well, but only in the middle of conflict. As soon as things settled down, we all went our own ways. Years passed. Second Impact came. Us three goons got stuck in the middle of it. Since then we've been like this city's protectors. After SI, the whole world just went to shit. Then, out of the woodwork crawl all of our old buddies. It's like an old Gundam series where you think the main characters are long gone and then they just keep showing up everytime there's another conflict; and there's always another conflict. So now we hunt down terrorists with goals and objectives that the basic military and police divisions can't deal with. We fill in the cracks where the big boys let things slip through. We're a private enterprize, but we're pretty rich, so it evens things out. Miko: You three privately run a counter-terrorist group under the noses of the Japanese government out of your own pockets? James: Yeah, pretty much. Miko: And you fight terrorists, like, on a regular basis? James: Yes. Miko: And you aren't dead? James: I've been killing people since I was eighteen. I trained with the best, I've fought the best, and I've beaten the best. In my day I was the world's top assassin. I know things the military would--and has tried to--kill to understand. I do it really well. Miko: Now I'm curious. James: Well, enough with me being an assassin, let's talk about something else. Miko: What about life before Second Impact? James: That was life before Second Impact. Miko: Can you be more specific? James: Okay, okay. I have a few stories to tell, but you won't get the details out of me tonight. Miko: (frowns, then perks up) What about Second Impact? Where were you then? James: Why do you want to know? Miko: ... Sounds like that changed you guys a lot. James: (curious) It did. But how did you figure that out? Miko: Have you been listening to yourself? You talk around Second Impact like it was a big turning point in your life. You say you guys just slid into the position of being defenders of your home, but it was like you were made for the role and just waiting for a trigger. James: (obviously elevating his evaluation of her intelligence) That's... about right. Miko: James, sometimes you talk too much. James: I can live with that. [Miko sighs and looks up into the starry night sky. It's clear out and the heavens sparkle like the city might float away on the soft, sweet spring breezes that ebb lightly down the wide streets.] [After a moment, her vision returns unsteadily to the horizontal, then to James.] Miko: So tell me already. James: About what? Miko: About Second Imapct. James: Now? Miko: I've already asked you to twice. James: But you said I talked too much. Miko: And I'm asking you to talk some more. Talk about Second Impact. James: But you only asked me once. Miko: (smiles sweetly) I just asked you for a second time. James: I--but... Well, okay. The year zero-zero... [Cue flashback effects.] [INT. THEATER PLAYING ANIME - DARK.] [Overlay date and place:] T O K Y O , 2 0 0 0 . [James, Ed, and Dave are watching anime on the big screen, and quite frankly, enjoying it. There aren't many people in the theater, which is unusual because this _is_ Tokyo. We can't see what they are watching, but in the light from the screen, we see they have definitely entrenched themselves for the long haul. [The remainder of this episode is in English unless otherwise noted.] James: (quaking with joy) Anime... on the big screen... (he looks about ready to wet his pants) Dave: It's just more Sailor Snatch, James. Calm Down. James: (rising above Dave dramatically) _LOWLY_ _INSECT_... People: Get down... We can't see... You in front, sit yo' ass down! James: (ignoring the rest of the audience) YOU [DARE] QUESTION THE GREATNESS OF 'MAGICAL GIRL 3: CURSE OF THE MAD MASK'?!! Dave: It was a one-episode OAV, if you could call it that even, and it's just second-rate.... [James' eyes are glowing a firey red, his Coat billowing onimously in the sudden wind from behind him...] Dave: (deadpan) Fine. I'll watch it. [End flashback.] James: Aheh... (slightly embarassed look) Well, there was a bump or two and we pulled out the secret weapon... nothing much to tell beyond that... Miko: (strained sweetness) James... James: Ah... okay. Look, a long time ago, Dave and I stole a super- secret weapon from the US government, modified, and ever since it has been our personal toy. Miko: And? James: It can blow up the world and it saved our asses when the first Angel attacked. [Overlay semi-transparent scene of a massive explosion ripping up Japan. Fade out the explosion. James looks around the city and to the mountains in the distance almost listlessly.] James: Shame it had to happen here... Miko: James, I said it before and I'll say it again... James: What? [Miko loops her arm behind James' back and hooks one of his feet with hers.] Miko: You talk too much. [She then tips him back and kisses him deeply on the lips. Fade out.] [INT. LARGE CONFERENCE ROOM - STUFFY, LATE AFTERNOON FEELING.] [James, Gendo, Dave and Ed are seating around a gray metal conference table that looks like one of those crapy 'post-modern' furniture P.O.S.'s. On the plus side, it is sturdy. Set in front of each person are small, flat computers, like the notebook of today, except the screens are much smaller and they set on the same plane as the keyboard. The heavy doors are locked and sealed shut. The meeting is in Japanese, unless noted.] Gendo: Okay. Here are the assignments. Handleton, you're administration, information gathering and correlation, that sort of thing. You work out the numbers, logistics, and situations. Dave: I prefer to let my field agents have some leeway. Gendo: Granted, but they report to you. Understood? Dave: Quite. Gendo: Flemming, you handle interior security. (Ed frowns) You watch Handleton's back, keep an eye on the facilities, look over Section 6's shoulder. You'll also have to organize equipment for field operations and keep it ready at a moments notice. Mr. Handleton has noted that you are well-suited to this task. Ed: Okay. Gendo: Mr. Rahn, you're field operations. Spies, wetwork, foreign problems, interior problems, police liaison, that sort of work. You'll work with Flemming for supplies and Mrs. Jones for personnel. [Uncomfortable pause.] Gendo: Speaking of her, why is she not here? Dave: Missed my message. James has some errands to run anyway, I'll have him pick her up. James: Sir? Gendo: Yes. James: What personnel? It's just the five or six of us. Dave: Nine. Gendo: (continuing) You'll have lots more if things go well. You see, I need someone here to keep an eye on NERV itself, that's why you people don't even have a section number. For starts, you'll work mostly with NERV personnel directly, get them comfortable with the idea of you being around here. But, I would be wary of hiring them without a thorough background check. Dave: That's my area of expertise. Gendo: Excellent. Remember, don't tell anyone in NERV, excluding myself, what you're up to. Ultimately, you all report to Handleton. [James and Ed nod thoughtfully.] Gendo: Goben is American field operations with German liaison. Rahn, she's your subordinate. Keep her in line. (Dave snickers. James raises his hand) Yes? James: I already have subordinates. Gendo: (looks at him) Then you'll have more. Jamison is weapons, NERV has located her employer. Handleton? Dave: Yes? Gendo: Find her. Dave: Sure thing, boss. Gendo: We obviously still have some ground to cover, but I'll leave the rest up to your discretion, Handleton. Dave: Gotcha. Gendo: Remember, the less anyone knows about you and NERV, the better. [James, Ed, and Dave share and understanding glance.] James: Fine with me. Ed: Whatever. Dave: Done and done and done. Gendo: Questions? James: Well, I used to be an engineer around here, so I'll be working with Ed quite a bit. Since we're both in the area of security, that wouldn't be suspicious, would it? Gendo: (looks at Dave) Work on your job descriptions and come up with a different reason. Something believable. It would be best if no-one knows you work in that area as well. James: Ahh, excellent. Ed: Mecha? Gendo: Excuse me? Ed: What about building mecha? I've heard that NERV has it's own staff for that. Would I be raising suspicions by building a few... test models. Dave: (to Ed) You'd raise suspicions going to the pop machines. Mr. Ikari, I think we can work discretely enough. Gendo: Then I see no reason why he can't. Dave: (to Ed, in English) You can't. [Ed pouts.] Dave: Do I get an office? Gendo: If you can build one. [Fade out on Dave's frown.] [EXT. WIDE-ANGLE OVERHEAD OF A PLANE OF ICE - DAY.] [We pull back to see James leaning out of a helicopter. The scenery is somewhere in the North Pole--it being summer this time of year--and James is dressed for the weather in a royal-blue arctic suit.] [After a moment, he apparently sees what he's looking for and signals 'down' to the pilot, whom we can't see. The helicopter lowers and comes to a stop slowly, only ten feet above the ground. James jumps off and lands lightly on the hard ice. He steadies himself and stands, only to suddenly fall flat on his ass. He begins cursing. The story is in English until noted.] James: Damn, man. Why'd I have to come out here? 'It's _summer_ in the Arctic Circle, James, you'll love it!' My ass. Lookit this place, it's like my fridge, but with less food and no semi-intelligent descendents of yogurt to converse with. [James turns to the camera and gets to his feet. As he walks, the camera follows. We are now in rant-to-the-audience mode.] James: You see this place? (motions to the scenery) Beautiful, isn't it? Not that I wouldn't mind a vacation, but this isn't exactly my idea of fun. Sure, it's gonna be neat to bug Carrie, but I'd rather not have such a push. What's the big hurry for, anyway? My sources say nothing un-kosher is due for quite some time, and yes, I'm talking about our little dinner conversation. I just don't get it. We could always wait for her to come back down on her own. I hate it when Dave acts like he can hide shit from me. [He shakes his head, calling off the rant with the wave of one gloved hand.] James: I just hate it when this happens. It's been a bad week so far and the rest doesn't look any better, that's all. [Fade over to several hours later. James is walking into a small encampmen. Curiously, no signs of heavy construction equipment are abound, James takes notice of this and offers us a mini-rant.] James: No big earthmovers or catapillars or anything like that. These people aren't out looking for oil or crap like that. No boxes of scientific gear either. No weapons, but I haven't started digging yet. Final analysis: Mercs in training. It's time to say hello to our first member from outside Japan. [He waves the camera over to one of the tents, walking up to it.] James: THE RUSSIANS ARE COMING!!! [General Panic makes an appearance, as expected. People in white armor pop out of the snow everywhere, some with green armbands, some with red. It appears they have been playing a wargame of some kind to James, but to the layman it just looks like a bunch of stormtroopers getting ready for Christmas.] James: (freaking out, pointing off in the distance) Egads! They've already landed!!! [A silence sweeps across the assembled before the sound of many guns cocking echos over the wind-swept plain.] James: Was it something I said? Woman's voice: Well, well, well... look what the cat dragged in. James: There aren't any cats in the Arctic, Carrie. [The woman James is talking to is a head shorter than him, average in height. She has short brown hair cut in a pageboy style, which fits her pixie-like face well, and narrow blue eyes that seem to cut apart the wandering assassin like she's dissecting a worm. She carries herself with a confidence that matches James' usual gate. And as for her figure? Well, in artic clothing it's a little hard to tell...] Carrie: (looks around, then shrugs) _You_ never had to make sense. James: I'm not complaining. Carrie: (mock shock) NO?!! Actually _NOT_ complaining?!! (a completely fake 'I am soooo shocked' face overcomes her) LOOK! Everybody! He _ISN'T_ _complaining_!!! [James crosses his arms over his chest, frowns, then huffs indignantly.] James: (flat tone) Ha. Ha. [The soldiers look on expectantly, though we can't see that through their helmets.] James: ....... Ha. Carrie: (flase cheer) C'mon, be a good sport! James: Blood temperature must be above freezing for that, Carrie. It's the first rule of villainy, you know. Carrie: (waving him off) Right... right. Okay boys, drill's over. Put it up and clean yourselves off. Magazine check in a quarter. Move it! [The troops salute quickly, then perform a Chinese Fire Drill to get to... well, wherever they do their important stuff.] James: Cold... food. Carrie: James, you act more and more like a cat every time I see you. James: (smirks) Keep making comments like that and they'll become self-fulfilling. Carrie: Yeah? Well, I'm still pissed at you, so don't start that cuddling crap or I'll have to pound your face in. James: That deserves a retort, but my teachers said to save fighting until after the food is presented. Carrie: Oh, how curteous of them. James: Not really. If the food comes out, kill your opponent and get twice the grub. Of course, conventional rules state-- Carrie: (walking out of earshot) Whatever... James: Err.... hey! I wasn't ranting, honest! [James and the camera chase after her.] [INT. CRAMPED ARCTIC BASE - SOME TIME LATER.] [The base looks like bare metal on the inside, with numerous sensors and electronic equipment attached to the walls. Among them are many smoke detectors and pieces of a large fire suppression system--sure signs of an enclosed environment. James and Carrie are wearing BDU pants and short-sleeved shirts, sipping coffee at a small conference table. There aren't many people around, and the place is relatively quiet.] James: So... Carrie: Don't start. What do you want? James: We're forming a CT strike group for NERV. Heard of them? Carrie: Yes, and I don't like them one bit. James: Ah, something I too am not in the mood to discuss. Carrie: No. James: You haven't even-- Carrie: (cutting him off) I don't have to. I know what you want and you're not going to get it. James: But this won't be like last time! Carrie: (eyes go wide) Don't even TALK about `last time'! James: (head in hands) Oh dear... Carrie: (icy voice) Since the world was all but destroyed and I was a wanted woman--and not in a good way... I sold my skills out to the highest bidder. I'm not happy about training young men to be ruthless killers because that's all you bothered to teach me. [James looks at Carrie. His eyes began to water. A Long Pause(tm) ensues.] Carrie: James? James: I'm just so... so proud. [Fade out as Carrie starts banging her head against the (steel) table.] [EXT. A SMALL AIRFIELD IN THE ARCTIC - BRIGHT DAY.] [James and Carrie, still in full cold-weather garb, are waiting for an airplane. James seems to notice the camera after a minute and stops to talk to it.] James: (to audience) She was quite aggreable in the end. I just had to promise not to start and elite group of assassins and then kill them when I failed to teach them restraint. James: (looks into the sky, his sunglasses glinting) It could have been much worse... but this way is better... [Cue flashback effects. We're in the meeting room again. The mugs of coffee are much lower now, indicating some time has passed since the first scene in this room.] James: It's not like we want you to sign away your soul, that only happens once you have tenure. Carrie: I don't WANT tenure! Get out of here! James: (thinking) She's on to me, time to seal the deal with my patented Montana-Way technique! (out loud) I'll call you! [He runs into the nearest wall and collapses on the ground.] [Cue transition effects...] James: (rubbing forehead) Anyway, that one went pretty easy. She's flying solo back to our temporary HQ. (pulls out a pocket computer) Memo: build faster planes, soon. This sub-sonic shit is for the birds. [Satisfied, James returns to what he was doing... standing around doing nothing.] [EXT. DIRTY CITY - AFTERNOON.] [The smog is the same, the streets are cleaner, but this is still--] James: Detroit. Damn, this brings back memories. [He is dressed in his 'assassin' getup: a white wifebeater underneath a red-and-black checkered dress shirt with an electric blue tie. The shirt is left unbuttoned and the tie hangs loosely around his neck. Charcoal slacks and slightly scuffled leather shoes complete the ensomble, allowing him to look stylish, messed-up, and lethal all at the same time.] James: This is the right place... [He looks at the run-down building in front of him. Despite the metal doors and computerized security system, it still looks dirty and worn out. For a moment, James' vision overlays a similar building, but one made of brick, not industrial concrete. He shakes his head as if gently chiding himself for something and knocks on the front door.] [A wind mysteriously blows by...] [And presently, he realizes the buzzer for the desired apartment. His hand comes up, one finger hovering over the button, frozen in place. Finally, James pulls his hand back and pulls out a tiny device, palming it in one hand. He taps a few buttons and the front entrance obligingly opens.] James: (proverbing) Never go the mundane route when a more adventurous path awaits. [He walks in, a dramatic breeze rustling his coat this time.] [INT. SMALL APARTMENT - AFTERNOON.] [This is the place a man named Trey Jones calls home. It's comfortable for one man, affordable, and a little messy. Messy, but clean. The man himself is seated at a huge desk over-loaded with various electronic equipment, reading a pile of computer print-outs. He grunts every now and then, pausing to take notes as well. As he reaches for a can of beer nearby, a knock is heard. The sudden noise breaks his concentration, and the can goes tumbling to the floor.] Trey: Aww, shit. [Thankfully, the can is empty. The man himself looks nearly so. Wearing a worn down T-shirt and jeans that have seen better days, Trey is your average lanky guy. A mop of brown, oily, unkept hair sits atop his head, as normal as an alien life form. Trey's face is like a ] Trey: (heading for the door with the can in hand) Hey, this was empty! [He pulls open the door to see James in his wrap-around sunglasses with a slightly testy expression on his face. Trey starts, an action which causes James to silently smile a cold smile.] Trey: Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too. How's Hell been? [Trey is a match for James in everyplace but the looks area. While James' face shows his english side, Trey looks like a wild cross of the european nations blended together. Black hair and a wide, rougish grin, which isn't around at the moment. Green eyes, like the warm Pacific seas, and a sly look make him look downright dangerous.] James: Cold. Very cold. [Trey gestures for James to enter the apartment. The assassin complies, giving the desk a glance before making a beeline for the kitchen.] Trey: So--hey! That's lunch! James: (from the fridge, which he is enthusiastically raiding) When we get out of town, I'll take you to this little bristo, you'll love the place. Trey: Out of town? What the fuck did you do this time?! James: I got hungry, came by... [Trey folds his arms belligerently, giving James a damn good 'so what?' look. For a while, the man in the coat ignores him, then comes out of the fridge with a roll of summer sausage in one hand and a wedge of cheese in the other. James then proceeds to ignore Trey's look anyway and starts rooting through the cupboards.] Trey: (coldly) Something I can help you with? James: Need crackers. Trey: (sighs) You aren't that hungry, are you? James: Carrie wouldn't feed me. Trey: (mildly shocked) She's alive? James: Duh. It would take a little more than world devistation to get her out of the picture. Trey: Yeah, I guess it would. So, now that I have your full att-- [But James isn't listening to a damn thing Trey is saying, which Trey isn't taking too well.] Trey: HEY, I'M TALKING HERE!!! James: (pops up from behind counter) Dude, I can hear you just fine. Trey: Dude, look at me when I'm talking to you. James: Get dressed. [Trey glances at his grey slacks and wifebeater.] Trey: We aren't going outside. James: No, we aren't. Trey: No? James, what have you done? [James pulls off his sunglasses and comes around the counter to shake Trey's hand.] James: (officious tone) Congratulations: You're hired! [Trey looks at James suspiciously, who starts to sweat.] James: Uhh... what? Trey: (throws his hands up) Fine. It's pointless to argue with you sometimes. [James puts his sunglasses back on, resuming his 'kick-ass and take fingerprints assassin' look.] James: (evil voice) You see the power of the Dark side... Trey: (from bedroom) Cut that out, asshole. James: We're burnin' daylight, man! Move out! Trey: (to himself) Why me? [EXT. TRAINYARD, NEW MEXICO - EARLY EVENING.] [Stars sparkle above the horizon in this twilight scene. The trainyard looks deserted at this hour, no lights or motion visible throughout the dozens upon dozens of great metal boxes parked throughout the plain. James and Trey come walking up the center of the area, looking as casual as possible in their onimous black leather trenchcoats.] Trey: This the place? James: (gestures to the entire area) This is it. Trey: I'm surprised there's so many. James: It was quicker to run new rail than network roadways after SI. Electrical power sealed the deal. Now most goods around the world are moved by rail. Trey: I know, I've heard it all before, but still... this _is_ impressive. James: Let's start checking here and sweep east at ninety-degree intercept. Trey: Huh? [James frowns at his partner, who is smriking knowingly. He then points to the darker part of the horizon.] James: We'll go that way, moron. Trey: Whatever you say, nutcase. James: That's my little omnivoid. Trey: Omni-what? [But in a swish of wind, James is already gone.] Trey: Pussy. James: Look! It's the Queen of the Boneheads. Trey: ARRGH!!! You Rat-fucker! [The wind blows again. Trey knocks loudly on the door of the nearest car, then yanks on the latch--which doesn't give.] Trey: Shit! John!!! [He pulls harder, then bangs on the door again.] Trey: (shrugs) Must not be home. [Meanwhile, not far away, James is repeating the same basic process on another run-down railcar. Curiously, this one makes a soft keening sound. James, being an intelligent human being, realizes this is not the kind of noise box cars should make when one bangs one' knuckles against it's side.] James: Hello? [He knocks again, absently, but this time his fist strikes something warm and none to soft.] James: What the...? [The creature holding the door open has the head of a crocodile and a guant humanoid body covered in brown feathers. James blinks, looking at the thing.] James: Um... excuse me, sir... [The creature shoves James out of the way and bolts into the night, laughing manically.] James: (brushing himself off) Well, that was... weird. [Another figure bursts out of the railcar, this one also near-human in form. A large, well-kept beard coveres most of it's face, and small beady eyes poke out from underneath a large red bandana. It's body is built like a tank, shorter than James by a head with a broad, iron-hard chest. With arms like construction derricks and a wide cocky grin plastered on it's face. After a second of meeting it's manic stare with a clear gaze of his own, James blinks, recognizing his friend.] James: John! John: (shaking James by the shoulders) WHERE DID IT GO?! James: What? John: The Chipocabra! James: Oh, it's long gone. John: WHERE?!! [James points in the direction of the earlier creature's departure.] James: That way. [John squints into the distance as Trey runs up to the pair, two shotguns out and ready for action.] Trey: Who? Where? Which body part? James: It's John. [Trey squints at the figure, who shrugs and jumps back into the train without further word.] Trey: Huh? Who? James: (points) In the car. I'll get him. [Trey nods and stands guard. James is about to pull himself into the railcar when John comes jumping back out, right into James' arms. The startled assassin catches John easily and the two pause for a moment.] James: Going down? John: Sure. James: (dropping John) You've gained weight. John: (holds up one arm) That's solid muscle, pal. James: (also holds out his arm) Then throw me. [John is the cobra, moving faster than the eye can follow, but James is ever the mongoose, turing the Judo move against his friend and tossing John to the ground.] John: (from the ground) Damn, I thought I had it that time. Trey: What's the bag for? John: Oh, (holds up a small canvas sack) just my things. (Trey nods and puts away the shotguns, making the large weapons disappear into his coat with an ease that speaks of long practice.] Trey: So, what are you doing out this way? John: Finding some Chibocabras. Trey: What? James: The South American devils. A mountain legend of a creature that steals cattle and frightens farmers. Forty years ago we'd call 'em the US military. Dave said some reports were still going around, but... Trey: I know what a Chibocabra is, James. John, did you say you were finding them? John: Yep. [He opens the bag and holds up a fine Pentax camera. Trey nods knowingly, then glances at James.] James: (ceremonious arm waving) You're hired! John: (grins) Great, what's the pay? [James throws one arm over John's shoulders and one arm over Trey's, then starts walking them off in a random direction.] James: Let's figure that one out when you guys get to our headquarters. [EXT. COASTAL CITY - EARLY MORNING.] [It's just after dawn in a small cove on the West Coast, USA. The sun sets lazily on the horizon, casting rays of gold, pruple, and pink across the lightly clouded sky. It looks to be a beautiful day.] James: (dead-flat monotone) This sucks. [James is dressed in the ever-present trenchcoat and scowling at the newly-rised sun. A cold wind blows in his face, the waves upon the silver water in front of him seem to stretch into infinity. The dock he stands on rocks gently with the marching waves.] James: (to the camera) It's morning, it's cold, I'm unhappy. Kat had better make this easy. I HATE mornings. [It starts raining. James pulls a hood out from the collar of his coat to avoid getting wet. The ice-cream cone which he has been cleverly holding off-camera is shortly tossed to the sea.] James: We commit this sweat cream to the sea, in the hopes our sugary goodness might one day be returned, amen. [He walks off the cold, lonely pier, and to the distant town, a sliver of darkness upon grey.] [EXT. BUSY STREET, COASTAL CITY - LATE MORNING.] [We're on the main drag with James, who is looking in the window of an old-fashioned taffy store, mesmerized by the intricate workings of the taffy-pulling machine. Presently, a tall woman in a pair of jeans that fit like they were sewed on her walks up behind James and chuckles mysteriously.] [She has mousy brown hair that falls to her shoulders. Her bangs curl cutely over emerald green eyes, which watch the assassin's back mischievously as she stalks him with the grace of a tiger on the prowl.] James: Huh? Woman: (extra-cheery voice) GOOD MORNING!!! [As James turns around slowly, a solid right hook slams into his check, flinging him back against the glass storefront he was staring at just an instant ago. James bounces off the glass and lunges at the woman with inhuman speed. She easily sidesteps his charge, but is then flung into the glass herself, face-first. Behind her, James sets his foot back on the ground.] James: Good Morning, Kat. [He rubs his jaw. Kat turns around and rubs her nose. Neither looks very hurt; every person within ten meters is staring at them.] James: You're hired. Kat: (snarls) Get out of here! [James looks genuinely confused.] James: Tsk, tsk. Why is everyone so NEGATIVE?! Kat: Everyone? James: (points at her) Just you and Sherridan. Kat: You know, Carrie called and asked me to yank your head out of your ass, tear it loose and mail it back to her in a small metal box with some fava beans. James: Very funny. (he pulls out a cell phone and throws it to her) Call him. We're leaving. Kat: (arrogantly drops the cell phone) Don't like the coast? [James glares at her, somthing deep and evil smoldering in his eyes.] James: We're going. Kat: Something wrong? James: ... [Kat's eyes widen. In the glass pane behind her, we see the reflection of a small guided missile heading right for them. James grabs Kat and the whole street-front goes up in flames. From the roof of a low building three blocks away, the pair watches a man dresed in urban comoflauge {yes, there is such a thing} toss his stinger missile launcher aside.] [The camera fast-pans by many rooftops, and suddenly Kat and James are standing behind the man, who's armed like a Marine despite the loss of his rocket launcher. James' face is featureless as the void, and Kat looks a the man as if sizing up a cockroach for her boots.] Mercenary: Fuck! [The man goes for his M-4 rifle, but James kicks it out of his hands, then kicks the man off the roof, where Kat grabs him by the collar with one hand. James and Kat then speak at the same time.] James&Kat: Not on the first date. [They then pause to glare at one another while the merc goes for his pistol. Kat drops the man absently and leans away from the edge of the roof. The silence between her and James lasts until there is a crunching noise from below.] Kat: Pervert. James: Violent tomboy. Kat: Around you, it's a way of life. James: Riiight. Let's get off this roof. [James jumps off the edge while Kat takes the stairs.] James: Time to go. Call Sherridan. Kat: Got a phone? James: You dropped mine. Kat: Go pick it up. [James grabs Kat around the waist and dives behind the closest car. A sudden burst of gunfire tears up the spot they were standing in.] James: I'll be on top next time, you're heavy. Kat: Thanks. What about the phone? [Despite his claim, James easily picks her up in one hand and dashes to the next car as the first one gets blown up. He then pulls out a small black box.] James: No problem. [When he pushes the lone button on the box, their meeting palce goes up in another explosion.] Kat: The PHONE?! [James pops up and uses a pair of semiautomatics to great effect. After rapidly emptying both full cips at his targets, he drops back down and reloads.] Kat: (still shocked) You have a self-destruct device on the PHONE?! James: (shrugs) It's a portable. Kat: What did you bring for me? [Bullets pepper this car.] James: Shit, I missed one. Kat: Thank you for being considerate. [James hands her one of his pistols. Kat takes her turn, empying a full clip at her target while James relaxes.] Kat: You really know how to treat a lady, James. James: Thank you. [The pair stands. The street and anything still standing opposite them is filled with watermellon-sized holes. Kat looks blankly at the pistol James handed her, than at his twin gun.] Kat: Did Ed load these? James: Of course. [Kat hands back his gun, no longer surprised.] Kat: Home, then. James: Good. [Several blocks later, a large group of mercenaries come around the corner to surprise them. As expected, James starts pointing and shouting maniacally.] James: There! THERE!!! [The mercs hesitate, then seem to blink in unison, snapping out of a trance.] James: (doing Jedi hand movement) We're not the assassins you're looking for... Lead Merc: Yeah, right. DIE! [Moments later, dead bodies surround them.] Kat: You KNEW that wouldn't work! James: (hand-wave brush-off) Details, details, details. Kat: Jeeze! [Several city blocks away, another explosion rocks the city.] Kat: James, you know, if you weren't such a MORON, we wouldn't be in this situation! James: You had a better idea? Kat: Maybe if I just pounded on you for a while... James: Maybe if I locked you in a rubber-walled room for a while... Kat: (rolling up her sleeves) Just try it! James: (reaching into coat) I just MIGHT! Sherridan: Children! James: Sherridan! Sherridan: James! Kat: Honey! Sherridan: Dear! James: Shwing! Kat: James! James: Kat! [Kat decks James.] Sherridan: Ouch. [James notices Sherridan's clothes are smoking and torn.] James: Oh, sorry, dude. Kat: Sorry, honey. James: Any holes there? Sherridan: Just fine. Kat, the bags are packed. We're leaving. [Kat pouts.] Sherridan: They just attacked the house. Kat: (eyes go wide) What's left? Sherridan: (sheepish) A few chunks of the driveway... Kat: JAMES!!! James: Hey! (Kat punches him in the arm) OW! How is this my fault?!! ---------- Title Flash: SIDESTEP:EVANGELION Episode 2: Memiors and Failures/ Is That My Car or Yours? ---------- [INT. LARGE CONFERENCE ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON.] [A large, utilitarian meeting table made of metal sits in the center of a large conference room with a bay window overlooking Tokyo-3. A construction crew is errecting a skyscraper in the distance. Dave sits at the head, a pile of disorganized papers in front of him. Ed is looking for something in his coat, a pile of gizmos, gadgets and thingies in front of him.] [Sherridan stands in the corner, looking across the room and out the large window. Kat is mysteriously absent, but Sherridan looks like he's eyeing the place for her arrival. John is freshly shaved and feeling the wall up for... well, something. Trey, still in his coat, is sulking at the table, occasionally glancing around the room. Carrie's seated but looking unhappy, wearing a U.N. Special Forces uniform.] [Then the door bursts open, permitting the missing members to enter: Kat and James. Kat just walks into the room casually, dressed in the same clothes as we last saw her. James is in the Coat and picking at some imaginary dust on his sleeve. They sit down and Dave calls the meeting to order.] Dave: Glad to see a sizeable portion of you are here. James: ... Dave: James, why are you smirking? James: (puzzled) Smirking? Ed: Insufferably smirking. James: I'm not smirking intentionally. Dave: Probably not. You got laid last night, didn't you? James: Well, I guess the secret's out. Dave: (shuffling papers) What secret? James: Oops. Ed: Can't you be a little more careful? James: Careful? Ed: Always letting some crucial piece of information slip through you grasp at the worst possible time just isn't becoming of one of our top agents. James: And I suppose flinging continents into space will raise the public's opinion of us? Ed: It wasn't a continent, it was Texas! And it was an accident! AND, I put it _back_!!! James: Still... Ed: Still what? James: (shrugs, gestures incoherently) ... Ed: WHAT? James: (shrugs `nothing') ... Ed: (throws his hands up) ... Dave: (nodds sadly) Well, Lisa should be showing up any minute now, and Randy is busy with the U.N. General Assembly at the moment. [Pause, blank stares around the table, except for James, who has become bored and is fiddling around with a rubix cube.] Dave: Oh... shit. I knew I forgot something. (he loudly clears his throat) Ummm..... Randy is alive. [As Dave nervously shuffles his papers, the doors bang open to reveal Lisa in her fighting gi. James BOLTS from his chair to greet her. Lisa is about a head shorter than James, with black hair cut in an efficient pageboy style. She has emerald green eyes and the kind of face that's always smiling happily.] Lisa: James! James: Lisa! Lisa: Muchacho! James: Senorita! [Slap.] Lisa: Jerk. James: What the Hell was that for?! [Slap.] Lisa: You didn't come to get me. James: Oh.... And what was THAT one for?! [Slap.] Lisa: Talking back. James: Eh? [Lisa hugs him.] Lisa: It's good to see you... jerk. James: (rubbing his cheek) I would have never guessed. Dave: Now that we're all-- Miko: (from the doorway, in Japanes) Am I late? [Eyes swivel to Miko, wearing her school uniform. It's a surprisingly modest silor outfit that's customary down at the local technical college. She's smiling nervously, looking back and forth between James and Lisa.] James: (Japanese) Hello, we're just getting settled. Pull up a chair. [Instead of actually letting her do it herself, Jame gets a chair for her, seating her next to Lisa, who begins to translate Dave's speech for her. Even as Dave begins speaking, the other seats are quickly filled.] Dave: Now, I know this is all going to come as a shock to you, but we haven't gathered here to kill anyone or knock out any para-governmental agencies... yet. James: Aww.... Dave: What I have here is a list of proper assignments, which I'll dish out AFTER the meeting. Trey: Then why are we here? Dave: (folding his hands in front of his mouth onimously) Just to see if I could do it. Trey: Figures. John: What's the pay? Dave: You're all richer than Repulicans, so I don't see why you'd be so concerned about pay. John: So the cash isn't an issue? Dave: The cash is not an issue. John: Goody. James: Well, since we're here to kill time, might as well sound off with the assignments while I snooze. Dave: Fair enough. Okay, we have no office, so that's our first order of business. John, there have been some random threats coming in to NERV. They have their publicity staff working on it now. Use your NERV I.D. card and pretend that we don't exist. Standard squeeze deal. We know more than they know, get it? John: Piece of cake. Dave: Trey, you get to play truck driver. You have four hours to become familar witht the military's large transport trucks. Carrie will fly the C-199s if we need any. Carrie: We're delivery people? Trey: (thinking) Why don't I get to fly the planes? (out loud) Could be worse, toots. Carrie: Toots?! Right, 'cowboy.' Dave, how about something a little less.... Dave: (shark-like grin) Boring? Carrie: Demeaning? Dave: (shuffles papers) I'll have Ed whip up some cool robotic suits. [Carrie pouts, which she does surprisingly well.] Dave: Okay okay, I'll hire some help, just not right now. I need you two for some sensitive stuff, and I don't trust anyone else. You don't just deliver; you gotta find it. Think you're up to that? [Trey and Carrie look at each other, the cat and the goldfish.] Dave: Good, now that's settled. James, Ed. James: Hai! Ed: Yeah? Dave: Robot loading suits. Ed: Like the ones from 'Aliens'? Dave: Exactly, but with a little more style. AND NO WEAPONS. James: (raises hand) A suggestion here. Dave: What? James: If they get to grabbing sensitive shit from insensitive people, it might be wise to carry protection. Dave: You can't armor the bots because the transports need to carry cargo, and that extra strength is enough of an advantage for those two. (points at Carrie and Trey, who are in the middle of an arm wrestling match; Dave thinks to himself) Never should have let those two sit next to each other. (out loud, to James) No weapons. James: Fine, fine. Ed: RRRRRRRRRrrrrrr... Dave: (switching to Japanese) Getting back on track: Kat, Miko, Lisa, Sherridan? [The four look at Dave.] Dave: (holding out car keys) We get fleet vehicles. After our tour, tell James where you want our temporary parking lot, it's his job to design one. Once you have him committed to the task, get outside and beat the streets. I want to know about every local legend in Tokyo-3 and I want to know it by this time tomorrow. And at _that_ time, you all will have some other assignments waiting. [Everyone at the table trembles in fear as Dave chuckles in a perfectly sane manner.] Dave: (extra-cheery voice) Now, I hope everyone got some sleep, because we are going for a _little_ walk! [Freeze frame on the entire group exiting, looking quite dramatic and a just a little bit worried.] [Cue Metallica's "Better Than You" faintly in the background as the narrator's deep, booming voice speaks over the scenes.] NARRATOR: NEXT TIME, ON SIDESTEP:EVANGELION! [Pan-away shot of an exposed elevator descending within a giant cavern.] NARRATOR: A WALK THROUGH THE NEW BASE OF NERV... [James in Gendo's small, cubicle-like office, looking quite aggitated.] NARRATOR: SOME HISTORY BEHIND IT'S FORMING... [Black-and-white shot: Kat and Lisa wearing Fedoras and trenchcoats.] NARRATOR: AND OTHER USELESS FILLER CRAP! [James' female form gives the camera a suggestive wink... a shame we can't see the rest of her, because her shoulders are bare....] NARRATOR: OKAY, [OKAY], MAYBE SOME FANSERVICE TOO.... [Ending credits:] Ranting, Sidestep, lots of other stuff: Jared Waddell, HQ Consulting: Insanity Productions Staff The Fan Fiction Mailing List Remarks: John Genoni, Pullman Branch Making Remarks: Andy Mucha, Kennewick Bunker Miko Mido is from 'La Blue Girl'. Tokyo-3 and all things and characters present regarding Eva are from Neon Genesis: Evangelion. No copyright infringement is intended. This work is copyrighted but non-profit. All other characters, unless noted, are copyright Insanity Productions. Original characters created by Insanity Productions may be used in freely in other non-profit works. Special effects provided by Insanity Productions Technical Department. And thank you, the reader, for... well, reading.