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Emily Moffat stared at her hand with a small frown. This was...unfortunate.

The day had started out well enough, under circumstances. After running a few errands for Miss Mindy and Mr. Monty, she had been able to visit with Miss Varete for a little while. She hadn't even been kicked out of the hospital this time, a fact that made her a little smug. The candy-striper uniform had worked so much better than the hat and mustache combination she had tried last time. Feeling a little restless, she had decided to put some reflex training in. At a nearby arcade.

Selflessly, Emily had walked past the fighting games that were closest to her heart, and instead went to the dance and rhythm area. It wouldn't due for her skills to become too one-sided! And maybe once she was got a high score or two, she could treat herself to a zombie shooter.

Hours later, Emily had to admit, when it came to rhythm, she was...lacking. For now, she told herself with a grim determination. She just need to train harder, with enough time and effort she would definitely defeat this game! Nothing was going to stop her! Caught up in her moment of declaration, she pumped her fist into the air, in the Don Diablos "I could have ripped out your heart just then" victory pose. The shiny plastic in her hand caught Emily's attention, and she quickly dropped her hand and looked around quickly.

Did anyone see? No one saw it did they?

It wasn't her fault, really. Except that it was. It was definitely her fault. The game had just been so frustrating, and it had seemed like she wasn't doing any better no matter how many times she tried. Frustrating to the point of her using a bit (A LOT) more force than necessary. So now instead of one piece of guitar-shaped plastic, there was now a two-piece guitar-shaped plastic puzzle.

Slipping her hand behind her back, Emily tried to look casual. No one saw it, right?

He saw it.

Wide-eyed, Emily stared at the young man. He saw it, and what should she do? Paying for the damaged equipment wasn't a problem but...they would call her parents. And then Mr. and Mrs. Lee would be associated with her wanton act of destruction! The blonde was right, she had to decide what to do about this, fast. But what to do, what to do?

What would Don Diablos do? DESTROY.

Which she had already done. So this time her mind would have to pull out the big gun:

What would Miss Mindy do?
a. Charm with feminine wiles.
b. Use money.
c. Hide any and all bodies.

The first was out, as Emily simply didn't have her mistress's shining charisma. And three was out. For now. But Emily could do money. In fact, she eyed the young man again, maybe she could pay him to say he broke it? She'd pay for everything, of course, but they wouldn't have to call the Lee mansion, and no one else would ever have to know.

With a pathetically hopeful look, Emily held the piece of plastic out to him. As she opened her mouth to make her most excellent proposal, the small girl was interrupted by a loud, rather pissed, "HEY YOU TWO!" A large and rather angry looking security guard stormed toward them.

Regrettable. She had waited too long. Time for plan d.

Taking the blonde's earlier suggestion, Emily dashed.

Sensing pursuit behind her, Emily picked up her pace, determined not to get caught by the arcade's oversized rent-a-cop. In the back of her mind, she reviewed the similar scenarios she'd seen on TV or in movies. She'd been made. The fuzz was breathing down her neck, and Emily had to shake him of her tail.

It was time to throw garbage cans in his path! Except there wasn't any, so next plan! Smoke bombs! But she'd left those at home, today of all days! Before Emily could come up with and subsequently discard anymore plans, she was out the doors, and overtaken by the man behind her. Who, oddly enough, was the blonde from earlier.

She almost pulled away when he grabbed her hand, but a quick look back proved that the fuzz was indeed still right behind them. Emily was glad she went along with him as soon as she saw the bike.

Quickly she took the proffered hand and gave it a small shake, the Disney reference going right over her head. Settling behind him, she finally spoke, "Plan C: Enter the Wheelman. An excellent choice, sir." The getaway car, classic but never to be underestimated. Nodding in approval she continued, "And it would be Miss Moffat, I'm sorry if you thought I was someone else." Hopefully he wouldn't leave her even though she wasn't who he initially thought she was. He didn't really seem the type, but...Emily tightened her grip just to be on the safe side.

Emily truly appreciated the helmet. Even though that sort of padding was not the Way of Don Diablos, and thus for "pussies," brain damage was not the Emily Moffat way either. Even if it did make her a cat of some sort.

It was the first time she'd ever ridden on a motorcycle, and despite the young man's warning, she found it surprisingly enjoyable. There was something about going very fast, and not having a ton of metal separating you from the rest of the world that was simply invigorating. It made Emily feel hardcore. And she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that their great escape hadn't gone on for a little longer. Really, despite the little destruction of property setback, the evening was proving to be just a nice as the day had been.

"It was very well done, sir, and you have my thanks," the girl replied, handing back the helmet. "Though I can't judge it against actual magic." Yet. If she could magically transform using an ultra high-tech senshi pen, then maybe she should be on the look out for rugs that could fly. She'd have to check with Mr. Monty...and possibly CraigsList.

Opening her mouth to ask the Wheelman's name, Emily paused and cocked her head. What was that...

A low, throaty moan could be heard from a nearby alley, followed by animalistic grunting.

At the mention of her stomach, Emily looked down at it with a small frown of confusion. Which quickly turned into a look of alarm at the mention of hot dogs. Didn't he know that hot dogs in Destiny City were made of rats and babies?! Emily herself had been made aware of this terrible fact in third grade, when a concerned fifth grader had pulled her aside and explained the situation. It had taken a long, hard campaign to rid the Lee household of all rat/baby by-products, but in the end she had succeeded.

Perhaps she should help this young man out, because he certainly didn't look like a baby eater. "This may be upsetting, Wheelman, but it's import-"

Once again, Emily found herself interrupted by a strange sound coming from that particular alley, this time louder and accompanied by a crashing noise. Apparently something needed to be done about that alley first, otherwise she'd never get to explain the Facts of Life and Hot Dogs to her new acquaintance.

With a small huff, Emily began stalking toward the alley, with a terse "Wait here, sir," thrown over her shoulder. Thoroughly schooled by both movies and television, the maid knew for certain that strange noises in an alley meant "very bad things lurk within." Her time as Sailor Hestia had only confirmed this fact. Fortunately, being a senshi also meant that she could probably kick it's a** without involving a civilian.

Remembering her earlier defeat at the hands of a plastic guitar, and being forced to run away from a mere security guard, Emily couldn't help but smile a bit. This could prove to be very satisfying.

The alley was full of shadows, and Emily had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Deeper in, something was moving, making those strange grunting noises, more softly now. As she started to move toward the "very bad thing" to get a closer look, henshin pen at the ready, Emily noticed something pale glinting softly on the ground.

Hair.

Lots of long, shining hair.

It belonged to a person.

The person was a girl.

The girl was Miss Mindy Lee.





The world stopped turning. Everything stopped moving. No sound. Color began to seep out of Emily's vision as her heart froze in place. Because this was not possible. This could not happen. This was no longer reality. The world went dark, in denial of such an event. Good bye.





Suddenly, light. Suddenly, color. Suddenly, sound. Suddenly, Emily finds her heart beating, and her body kneeling beside a girl with long pale yellow hair who was not Miss Mindy Lee. Who never was Miss Mindy Lee.

Something grunted before her, and Emily's head slowly lifted to see a purple and green pig...thing, eyeing her with interest, no longer interested in the victim at it's piggy little feet.

The victim who would never be Miss Mindy Lee. Or Miss Varete. Or the Mafia Princess. Or Mickey.

When an urgent whisper of "Guitar Breaker" reached her ears, Emily smiled grimly. The victim wouldn't be her Wheelman either.

"Hestia Power, Make Up."

On the verge of attacking, Sailor Hestia paused in surprise as Wheelman began to talk. His manner was very chatty for someone who had just witnessed both a rather hideous youma and her magical transformation into a super hero...of sorts. And why would a cat give him a maid uniform anyways? Unless Mr Monty was selling off her unifor-he better not be selling off her uniforms.

But at least the Wheelman had a certain amount of understanding as to who she was. 'Though both the black and white rangers combined is a bit of an overstatement,' she thought modestly. She didn't even have a giant robot. Yet. And it seemed he was going to stick around so they could talk, the hotdog situation was truly important, youma or no. Now if only he would go hide somewhere safely out of the way?

Or...transform? Well that would certainly explain his behavior! Hestia stared, in unabashed curiosity, as the Wheelman's sparkling form was stripped and reformed into that of Sailor Euterpe. When he was done, she couldn't decide if she had seen him naked or not. She'd have to ask him later.

The youma's obligatory pause during their transformations was apparently over, as it began snorting raucously while pawing the ground.

"Yes, we have a great deal to talk about, you and I. But first..." the senshi of housekeeping slowly stood up,"...that'll do pig." Spinning toward the youma, she threw something at it's head with all her strength.

"Hestia Beam!"

At least the broken guitar piece had come in handy.

He had a real attack. He had a real attack that looked really impressive and actually hit the enemy. Hestia glanced down at her henshin pen with a look of disappointment, silently wondering why she couldn't have an attack like that.

With a high pitched squeal, Barney the Youma Pig was knocked into a nearby trashcan. There it remained sitting, head wobbling back and forth in a dizzy fashion. Really, he did that with just one hit? Hestia glared at it for a moment, before switching back to the other senshi. "That was..." she flushed, looked away, and tried not to sound completely envious. "...an excellent job, sir."

Walking toward the downed youma, Hestia picked up a broken piece of pipe, and turned to smile back at Euterpe. "Let's finish it."

Getting shown up by the person she was planning on protecting wasn't exactly what Hestia would have wished for. Ever. But it wasn't over just yet. And there's nothing like the prospect of hitting something repeatedly to improve one's mood!