Disclaimer: No, this Wicked doesn't own Cyborg 009. You can ask the Wicked down the lane and see if she does, though!

Joe Millionaire

Chapter 1: Meet the Kids

Author's Note:

I'm so excited! (Yes, I'm a dork. I'm excited about my own story!) Anyway, this story has a rather cliché plot, but no worries! I make your life grand, not bland (like avocados!)! Remember that I deal with OOC (out-of-character) people, so live with it! A-U (alternate universe) is my realm! This story does not involve the reality TV show Joe Millionaire. The title was used only for jokes only. Get it? Good! Enjoy the story and please leave a kind review!


"Bina! Where are you?" A voice, coming from the poolside, yelled loudly.

A young woman ran up, looking completely exasperated. "Mr. Shimamura, how may I help you?"

If she had been the new girl to the scene, she would have swooned. Who wouldn't, when they saw the young and handsome face of Mr. Joe Shimamura, charming, fashionable, rich, and, like every good little boy, single? His dark brown hair fell to his face in a relaxed manner, his brown eyes laughing, flashing red with life.

But, unfortunately for him, she had been his manager for a nice four years, coupled with bickers and commands that Joe had finally decided to follow. With contempt in her voice, she, in turn, would respect him as her … boss.

"There you are!" He tilted his chin towards his glass. "Can you get me another drink? The one with the cute little umbrella on the side? Tell the bar guy to put vodka in it? Last time I don't know what he put and it was weird."

Bina narrowed her eyes; green and flashing in exasperation. "Mr. Shimamura, remember, I am your manager, meaning I help you with your show plans and so forth."

"Yeah? So?"

"Meaning, Sir, that I am not your butler, not your servant, or anything else, including babysitter!"

Joe sighed, but didn't move from his sunny spot. "Then can you at least talk to that damn clothes designer or something? I mean, the thing he made me wear last time… It was scary."

"You mean that Armani? The one that cost a fortune and was specially designed for you?"

"Yeah, that one. Whatever." He pointed towards the empty glass again. "Can you hurry up? I'm really thirsty."

"Mr. Shimamura, please. Let's be serious here." Bina's voice was not only tinged with annoyance, it was bursting with it. "I have to remind you, the producer of your new show wants to see you tonight, so please don't waste your time here. And there's a press conference coming up at tomorrow."

"Sure." He made no sign to move.

Bina sighed inaudibly, glancing at the lounging star. "Joe Shimamura! Will you please get up and get dressed?"

Joe jumped visibly. "Oh, come on Bina!"

"Get up." Her voice was laced with honeyed poison. "Get dressed. And no, for the final time, I'm not going to get you another drink!"

"Hey, how'd you know I was about to say---"

"Get up!"

"Okay, okay!"


In the meanwhile, a young French woman sat quietly as she looked out her window, the beautiful city of Tokyo passing by.

Her name was Françoise Arnoul, and she was a dancer. Hired by the London Ballet Company, she was proud and happy to dance in Japan for her first performance.

If only the touring didn't take here away from her family so much…

She missed her brother John Paul dearly, and everything seemed to remind her of him.

It was he who thought she could do it, told her to believe in her dreams, and now…

John Paul had suffered in a plane crash.

His only means of income was doing aerial stunts in an old and battered plane that had belonged to their father. She knew, too late, that it was a danger to him. And now, he was in the hospital, without anyone to care for him, no relatives whatsoever.

She would have stayed, but then, how was she to pay for the medical bills?

The question had raged in her mind, until, finally, she decided that the only thing she could do was dance for it.

A few tears studded her tropical ocean eyes. How lonely he must be!

No matter. No matter what it took, no matter how long it took, she would care for her brother.

And dance.

After all, it was the only thing she could do.


"Bina! Thank God you're here! The only capable woman around here!" A middle-aged man jumped to see the girl, clapping his hands.

"GB! Great Britain, how nice to see you again!" Bina smiled charmingly, the bright lights glinting off her short strawberry blonde hair. "What's wrong? You look troubled."

"I am!" Great Britian looked down at his feet. "Angelina can't do the part! She's been picked off as a model." He curled his lips slightly in a growl.

"Oh no! And they've already seen her pictures, too! What are we going to do?"

"I don't know!" GB seemed close to dramatic tears. "Think of something, oh goddess!"

"Get a hold on yourself, GB! We'll think of something…"

"We can't tell them that she's not here anymore! Everyone is expecting her!"

Bina clenched her perfect teeth. "We could… Well, we could find a girl that looks like Angelina to play the part. She's not that famous yet, and besides, there's lots of blonde girls who would love to play the part!"

"Yes! You're a genius, Bina! I love you!" He jumped and hugged her, surprising the shorter girl. "Thank you so much!"

Bina awkwardly patted his back. "No problem, GB…" After a moment, she sighed. "You can get off now, you know."

"Oh, uh, yes!"

"We need to start looking, then!"

"What special talents does Angelina have that we'll need to use?"

"Well, she dances… And she blonde… Err…"

Bina grinned slightly. And here she thought it was going to be hard! "Let's get started, then!"

The search begins!


Well, that was the first chapter! A bit rushed, even though it's the second time I've written it. Hope you enjoyed it!

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and everything in between!