Ok guys, so I'm coming back to fix all of my many, many grammatical errors (also other assorted, really embarrassing slips) with the help of the wonderful Ruby-Blade-Princess who very generously offered to Beta-read for me.
Prologue – At dusk we meet
A chill wind blew. Autumn was setting in as September progressed. She shivered slightly as the cool breeze picked up again. 'Should've worn a coat.' she thought irritably pushing the hair away from her face.
She was watching the city from on top of one of its taller buildings. The sun was setting in the distant horizon coating everything in an orange glow. Darkness wouldn't last long, she knew. As soon as the last rays would fade the neon would hum to life. The city was never as alive as it was come night fall. The ghost of a smile touched her lips. 'Love a good party. But I'm more of a day person. Must be an elemental thing.' she mused.
Five years since the Shen Gong Wu fiasco. Battle after battle, until at last they had all the Wus in their possession. 'Funny, she thought, one would think the battle for the last Wu would be epic'. Far from it. By that time, Chase Young, who had never been too keen on the Wus had given them up all together, presumably having found some more engaging evil to occupy his time. It was he who banished Hannibal Bean back to the Yin-Yang dimension after Omi recovered the Moby Morpher, thus getting the evil bean out of the race for Wus. For Wuya hope died last. She'd fought, and fought well, but against four accomplished Dragons, she'd been grossly outnumbered. And so Raimundo had retrieved the last Wu, defeating the witch in what would be the final Xiaolin Showdown. After her defeat, she had left to join Chase, or so they had guessed. That left Jack. Jack. He'd vanished from the radar months before the final battle.
She paused her train of thought. Jack hadn't resurfaced in all these years. She'd heard nothing of him. No news of robots wreaking havoc, no petty crimes, nothing good, nothing evil. Nothing. Jack Spicer had effectively disappeared. To be fair, they'd never given him much thought. Jack Spicer was a nuisance.
Kimiko heaved a frustrated sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. Five years. Five sad boring years. Five years of only having social calls to wake up to. As the daughter of a rich Japanese businessman, owning an extremely large and popular company, it was her duty to attend events and charity balls and stuck up parties.
The team split after taking care of the Wu. Each Dragon was assigned a quarter of the world to look over. She'd gotten Asia and a slice of Europe. Her existence was ruled by an agreed upon motto: "Lay low, intervene discreetly". Needless to say, this did not go down well with her. This course of action did not match the style of the Dragon of Fire. Still she complied.
The sun slipped under the horizon. And with the dark there came a voice: "Amazing I can still recognize you, what with all your makeovers; but really I could never mistake you for anyone else. Kimiko."
Kimiko snapped her head around to face the source of the voice. A silhouette, clothed in shadow, was leaning against the wall of the elevator house. Kimiko squinted in the dark, resisting the impulse to simply light a fire. The voice, it was familiar, but she couldn't think where she'd heard it.
The shadowed man solved the problem by stepping into a cone of light provided by one of the freshly lit lamps. Her eyes widened and the word escaped her lips before she could stop herself "Jack!"
And there was no doubt that it was him. Older, taller, but still Jack Spicer. The same shock of bright red hair adorned his head, pushed back away from his forehead by a pair of orange goggles. His clothes were slightly different, but he still seemed to prefer black. Also, the same was his apparent fondness of long dramatic coats. The two straps crossing each other over his chest revealed the presence of his Jet-Pack. Her eyes settled on his face. Red eyes watched her from a ghostly white face. The familiar dark marks still framing them. His lips were twisted into a smile.
It was those eyes that swept over her figure from head to toe. "A little more formal than I remembered. But hey! At least we're still on a first name basis." He observed.
Kimiko fell easily into her battle stance, only slightly hampered by her tight pencil skirt. "Jack Spicer" she hissed, trying to contain the excitement the prospect of a fight raised in her. It had been so long. Forever ago.
He took a step backwards lifting his hands, palms facing her, in a placating gesture "Easy baby, I've no foul play in mind!"
Kimiko lifted an eyebrow 'baby?' out loud she asked "Oh yes, because you're always so true to your word."
Jack smiled a crooked grin, "Since that's what you think, I guess saying I've changed won't carry much weight with you?"
She didn't dignify his question with an answer, settling instead on giving him a "D'oh" look.
Spicer's shoulders slumped in mock defeat "So little trust." he said in a woeful voice, reminiscent of the younger Jack. "I suppose it can't be helped. You know of my priors." He smiled crookedly again. "Actually Kim, I dropped by to say hello to my favorite Dragon." His smile ebbed slightly encountering her deadpan look "No go, huh?"
Kimiko straightened up. The seams on her skirt were beginning to complain, and besides he didn't feel particularly threatening. Nothing new there. "Sorry Jack, but I believe some things never change." He shrugged. "Why are you really here?"
His smile dropped. Jack was watching her with a seriousness that was entirely new. Kimiko surprised herself by thinking that he'd grown to be quite attractive. "So tell me Kimiko. What's the point of asking me questions, when you don't plan on believing the answers?"
She stared, then smiled "Touché. I guess we're at an impasse then. So why don't you just run along back to that hole you've been hiding down these past few years. Go on scat!"
Jack winced "Ouch Princess! The years haven't made you bitter I hope?" But he did turn and began walking away. Over his shoulder he called "I'll be seeing you around Tohomiko-hime" with that said he stepped off the building.
Kimiko didn't run to see if he'd plunged to his death. She knew better. Kimiko smiled. Jack was cliché, and he loved to make an exit. Flashy entrance too, now that she thought about it. Entering just as the last light of day faded. Typical.
It made her wonder though. Why now? Why her? And what did he mean by that last bit?
Kimiko groaned "Mm. Maybe I should've kept him for further questioning and made sure he answered truthfully" she clenched her fist experimentally "No point in crying over spilt milk" she lifted her eyes and stared off in the direction Jack had disappeared into.