Another oldie. This one is technically a follow-on to the story "No". It isn't exactly necessary to have read that story to get a handle on this one, but it does follow.

This is a crossover between my first love, Battle of the Planets, and my ex-love CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. I am going to ignore the fact that both Grissom and Sara have left the show. The departure of these two killed the show for me (more with Sara's departure than Grissom's) … Because, to be honest, I can't stand Catherine … :shudder:

Now NCIS has taken over my heart as my favourite Crime Scene Drama….

Anyhoo. So this is obviously a Crime piece with lots of birdie goodness. Yah, this is also finished, but, like the mammoth hideous monstrosity AKA: "War" that I posted yesterday and today, I will be repairing some parts of it before posting.


Oh, and as per the rules of Fanfiction: Disclaimer: G-Force and Anderson do not belong to me. Neither, for that matter, do any of the Las Vagas Crime team (Excluding Chris) …


What Part of No (Do you not Understand)?

[No: 2]

"My patience is wearing thin, Sarah. I have made repeated attempts to contact you to no avail. You ignore me.

Why? Is it because you think you're too good for a man like me?

Is it because I'm not the Eagle – a man who you claim to have a crush on, according to your Facebook page? Do you honestly think, for one moment that a man like that would be interested in a dick-teasing little skank like you?

Or would you give up the game and open your legs for him?

You disgust me. You and all women disgust me. You're all filthy, dirty animals created not by God, but by the Devil. You were created solely for the destruction of the world. To torment men with your wily, sexual ways. You entrap and abuse us, burden us with your spawn, and humiliate any you deem unworthy.

Women are the pith of the earth, the worst of all plagues.

Perhaps it is time to rid us of you all.

I'll start, my dear, with you.

Look over your shoulder, I'm right behind you.


Princess pursed her lips and blew out a breath. These emails were becoming more and more frequent, with each one becoming more dark and threatening. This one was by no means the most threatening. Three nights ago she received an email written in Kidnap font about how he was about to abduct her and lock her in his basement. This one, however, was perhaps the most alarming. It threatened women in general as well as herself, and she had to wonder if it was time to succumb to the threats and make contact, just so she could assess the situation properly.

It was tempting to show her folder of nasty emails to Mark, her Commanding officer and lover. How tempting to curl up with her trademark pout in the arms of her lover and talk through what could possibly be a dangerous situation, but why bother? Even with almost 1GB of horrendous images and emails saved in a remote file in her documents, her course of action was limited. Unless he approached her directly and made a threat, or physically harmed her there was little that could be done.

And besides, she was the Swan of G-Force. She'd fought this man off before; of course she'd be able to do it again. There was no sense in bringing it up with Mark, or anyone in the Federation. She knew what would happen: Mark would turn more protective than normal, shadowing her every move. Jason would be the same, following her every move and threatening any male that came within a hundred feet of her. And of course, being that this fellow was the one who so horrifically attacked her, leaving her with bruises never even received in battle, it would drive the whole team insane. Mark and Jason were already on the warpath for this guy, she didn't need to offer them any more ammunition.

It was safer to just handle it on her own and ignore it. She could ward off and fight Spectran armies and enemies – she could handle a scrawny Star-Trek Klingon wannabe.

She sensed the approach of Mark from behind and used the alt+tab keystrokes to switch to a more "official" document. She leaned back into him as he slipped his arms around her waist from behind.

"Busy?" He asked, breathing minty-fresh breath across her cheek.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh scent of Lever 2000 soap. "Reports," she sighed gently. "The Chief needs the final specs from the Rigan mission by tomorrow lunch time."

He sighed heavily and nuzzled his nose into her neck. "I think you need a break. You feel so tense."

A brow flicked upward as she felt his fingers tickle at her navel. "The sooner I can get it done, Mark."

He growled playfully and spun her chair around, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. "How about I order you to take a break?"

"Abuse of power, Commander," she giggled as his mouth found hers to try and coax her into a kiss. She pulled back and pressed her forefinger against his lips. "If I was Jason or Keyop, you'd insist I stay until it's done."

He groaned low and disappointed. "How long do you think?"

She slid away from him and backed up toward the desk. She wasn't surprised when he lowered his face to look at her as though she were his prey, so she held her hand in a stop position as he slowly advanced. "It'll be done when it's done. You know me, I like to be thorough."

His body slumped, but he smiled. "As long as it isn't one of Jason's reports I'll agree." He squinted his eyes to better focus on the small font on the screen. He saw her coded identification on the top of the report and looked back at her. "You'll join me when you're finished?"

She tipped a shoulder upward to meet her ear and gave him an innocent smile. "I'll try not to wake you."

"I'll try not to fall asleep," he smirked as he stepped back, dropped his towel and walked, naked, back into their bedroom. "Just a show of what you're missing, good night."

She blinked wide eyes at him as he waved his hand over his shoulder.

Cheeky bastard.

She shook her head to clear her mind of illicit thoughts and sat back down at the desk. There were more important things she had to worry about than … Mark. Naked.

Focus …

Her monitor gave a blink to announce a new email message. She held her breath as she opened her newest and most terrifying message yet.

"Your boyfriend seems persistent. I find it somewhat amusing to see you tease him as much as you do others. He does have a fine physique …

Your time is coming, Sarah.

Look out for the man in white wings and be careful what you wish for."

She gasped and immediately pulled her chair out from underneath the desk. With a speed she didn't know she was capable of, she bolted to the window and peered around a curtain to see who might be watching her.

The night around the airfield was dark, quiet, and deserted. Mark had left the runway lights on, and there was an intermittent flashing of led light from the landing beacon, but she could see noone.

For the second time that evening, she felt arms around her, only this time they were firm and protective.

"Is everything okay, Princess? I heard you yelp."

She shuddered against him. "Uh, yeah, Mark. It's nothing."

He frowned and turned her to face him. "Your heart's racing, what's wrong?"

It was time for a quick save. She smiled and put on the most seductive pout she could. "I guess seeing you parade around the place naked does that to me."

He frowned doubtfully. "Then why are you looking outside as though Zoltar was lurking in the bushes?"

She shrugged. "You left the lights on. The beacon gave me a fright – I'm not used to the flashing."

He raised a brow and leaned across her to flick a switch behind her head. "There, they're off. Are you sure…?"

"Of course." She threaded both arms around his neck and lightly jumped to hook both legs around his hips. "I think I'm ready for that break, Commander."


"Stalemate," Doctor Gil Grissom of the Las Vegas Crime Lab hissed as he scanned over the last report given to him by the DNA analysis team.

Their latest case was, to put it playfully, a doozy. They had a serial case, a killer that stalked via the Internet. The killer had taken five victims in two years.

Victim one: Angela 20 years. Brunette, blue eyes, 5'7", Caucasian. Stalked via email from her Facebook page. Initiated a meeting with StarTrekkin, single date, friends say she didn't have another. Was repeatedly hounded via threatening emails. Missing report filed on the 20 December 2007, found dead five weeks later. Victim was bound and tortured, T.O.D. three days before she was found. Evidence of repeated sexual assault.

Victim two: Samantha 21 years. Blonde, blue eyes, 5'8", Caucasian. Stalked via email from her Facebook page. Initiated meeting with KlingonForever, single date, friends indicate there wasn't a second date. Was repeatedly hounded via threatening emails. Missing report filed on 13 February 2008, found dead seven weeks later. Victim had been bound and tortured, T.O.D. two days before discovery of body …

Victim three: Susan 20 years. Brunette, green eyes, 5'5", Caucasian. Stalked via email from her Facebook page. Initiated meeting with TrekFanatic …

Victim four: Adrien 22 years. Brunette, Brown eyes, 5'8", Caucasian. Stalked via email from Facebook …

Victim five: Kelly 20 years. Blonde, Blue eyes, 5'9", Caucasian. Stalked via email from Facebook …

He rubbed at his brow in an attempt to ward off a potential migraine. Two years of missing persons reports, miniscule pieces of evidence, dead bodies, vague witness reports … And nothing. Absolutely nothing to go on.

There was excitement over Sara's find of blood transfer on their latest victim's matted hair, and a partial fingerprint on the victim's pendant.

But nothing.

No hits on CODIS.

Nothing on AFIS.


He didn't want to have to file another "We've found nothing" report to the Sheriff's office.

With little or no budget left for the year, he couldn't think to bring on more staff, or ask his team to work more double shifts. Extra hands, and more sophisticated equipment would help his investigation and help put a killer away.

But budgets had been slashed, staff cut.

Where the Hell could he and his team go from here?


"I'd most like to meet the Swan. I have a huge crush on her. I wouldn't mess around on my girlfriend for anyone, but the Swan … Well, I might have to take a moment to consider that. Perhaps Sarah might consider letting me have one night with her."

Princess covered her mouth in her hand and giggled at Mark's Facebook profile. The man was usually so stoic and unamusing, but get him on the Internet and he could be the biggest joker around. Jason had warned her about his main page, and how she simply had to one night transform into birdstyle and make her Commander's night.

She'd promptly slapped him on the arm and told him to grow up.

Jason could be so juvenile sometimes.

She licked her top lip and opened up the window to type a reply-of-sorts to his comment.

"Mark, my love. I will gladly grant you one evening with Madame Swan, if you grant me a long, hot,one-night stand with the Eagle – Or will you find yourself a costume with white wings and thigh-high boots and role-play Swan and Eagle with me?"

She widened her eyes at her words and backspaced to remove the costume comment. Her asking for a night with the Eagle was enough.

It was funny how the two of them joked about Swans and Eagles. Call it a schizophrenic joke between them both. In combat, and wearing their respective birdstyle uniforms, they'd not entertain the thought of anything sexual. As Eagle and Swan they were detached from each other. He was Commander, she his third.

It was better that way.

They had different personalities after transmutation. She couldn't love Mark, the Commander, like she loved Mark, the person. When he wore the white wings of the Eagle, he could actually scare her. She claimed that this explained her own abrupt personality change from confident and playful, to demure, innocent, and shy when she changed into the Swan's wings.

It was better that way.

Add to that the Phoenix was a dangerous playground to play in. Although, when she was civilian, there was always the fantasy that Mark would drag her into the weapons bay of their giant warship and show her just how Commanding he could really be.

The thought made her blush as her computer blipped a new email message. With a smile and slowly cooling cheeks, she clicked "read."

"Sarah, have some self-respect, will you? Sexual innuendo is the resort of low-life prostitutes. You are showing yourself to be nothing but a harlot.

Someone needs to tie you to a wall and beat some sense into you. You need to be forced to see just how dangerous women like you are.

You want the Eagle? I warn you, be careful what you wish for, because he might not be as wonderful as you think he is.


She let out a long-suffering sigh. It hadn't even been thirty seconds since she posted her comment to Mark's page. Chris must be permanently online stalking her every damn move.


With a narrowed gaze and curled lip, she hit "reply".


Consider this a warning.

Leave me the Hell alone. I am not interested in you and never was. I felt pretty sure that I made that clear after I introduced your face to my knee and left you lying in the mud after our date.

If you continue to harass me, I will personally contact the Eagle and the Condor and hand them your contact information.


She groaned after hitting send. What a stupid, juvenile thing for her to say.

Another blip and she shook her head to read his response.

"Well. Well. Well, Sarah. What a cute threat to make. I am absolutely shaking with fear at the threat of Eagle/Condor retribution.


Nice outfit, by the way. Your bra strap has fallen off your shoulder, please be a lady and pull it back up.


Her breath stopped as her hand shifted to her arm to pull up the offending little strap of elastic. Her strap had, indeed, fallen.

He was watching her.

For the second time in as many days, she let out a loud gasp and flew out of her chair. She had her yo-yo in her hand, ready to fire, as she bolted to the front door and burst out into the moonlight.

"Where are you?" She yelled into the darkness. "Show yourself, stop being a coward!"

There was movement out of a shadow beside her, and before she had a chance to think, she flicked her wrist and let the yo-yo's sharp pointed end seek out its target.

A hand with a blue driving glove on it jutted out of the darkness and caught the head of the yo-yo with exact precision.

She yelped and pulled back on the string, trying to recoil her weapon. "I warned you, leave me alone!"

Steeled blue eyes, serious and dark, appeared out of the shadows. "Princess?"

Her breathing continued as a pant even as she recognized her Commander in front of her. His expression was all Eagle as he kept hold of her weapon and demanded an answer. Her voice shook, "Commander. It's you."

"Who were you expecting?" His voice was monotone and concerned, fully alarmed and aware of her panic. Her actions warned of potential enemy presence. Concern and comfort could come after the threat was neutralized.

She recoiled the weapon from his grip and looked around nervously before she let out a long breath and collapsed against him. "God, I had an awful dream."

It was a bad lie, but it should fool him enough.

The mask of the Eagle remained firmly in place as he set his hands on her shoulders and lightly pushed her far enough away for him to read her expression. "A dream? Princess, you've been skittish for the past few weeks, is there something; a threat; that I need to know about?"

"No," she lied.

He narrowed his eyes at her, waiting for a shift in her expression to warn him she was being untruthful. "Are you sure?"

She maintained her expression as best she could. "Yes, Commander. I just had a bad dream, that's all."

"And that made you storm out here wielding your weapon ready to attack?"

She nodded. "Yes."



His brow flicked doubtfully. "Since when …"

She shrugged and attempted to remain as nonchalant as possible. "Oh I don't know, Commander, maybe I'm pregnant. They say your dreams get pretty damn vivid when you're expecting."

The mask of Eagle fell, and Mark's blue-eyes sparkled. "Really?"

She winced at his reaction – definitely not the right excuse. She slowly closed her eyes and smiled as she shook her head. "No. I'm fairly certain I'm not."

Mark actually seemed mildly disappointed. He slid his hands down her arms and took her hands in his. "Then what's wrong, Sweetheart?"

She pulled her arms behind her to draw his around her waist. She kept her hands on his, even as he pressed his palms into the small of her back. "I don't know," she sighed. "I guess I'm waiting for our bubble to burst and for something bad to pull us apart some way."

"Don't think that way, Princess."

She sighed and lifted her chin to rest it on his shoulder. She peered cautiously toward the hangar where she could see the nose of the civilian G1 aircraft. "How did she do out there tonight?"

He drew her to his side and slowly walked the two of them toward the dimly lit tin hangar. "In bird mode she flies perfectly. The laser hit to the right thruster didn't to as much damage as I thought. I may have to dock with the Phoenix manually, but she's definitely fine for combat if we get called in before I can have it repaired."

She pursed her lips. "In Cessna mode?"

"Shaky," he answered with a sigh. "She's only a single engine, so the hit damaged some wiring. The propeller cuts in an out."

"That's dangerous…"

He smiled. "For an inexperienced pilot, yeah."

She gave a laugh. "Oh but you, Mr. Ace himself, can handle a nose diving Cessna."

"Of course." He stepped ahead of her into the hangar and dramatically pulled her into him again, spinning the two of them around before seating her on the wing of his aircraft. "If things get too scary, I'll just transmute into Birdstyle and give the jet engines the jolt to start."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?"

He winked. "A brilliant tactician, remember?"

"And very self assured."

He growled playfully and stepped in between her legs. He tugged on her hips to slide her closer to him, and leaned in to kiss her. "You have to love yourself before you can love another."

She smiled into his kiss. "Is that a declaration?"

"That I love you?"


He ran his hand along her thigh and hooked her knee behind his hip. He coaxed her backward across the plane's wing. "Need me to prove it?"

"Out here?"

"It's just you and I here, Princess. Why not?"

When his lips met her neck, she looked warily into the darkness.

Were they really alone?


An exhausted Sara Sidle leaned a shoulder against the doorway of her supervisor's office and lingered a few seconds watching him bite distractedly at a sandwich as his eyes scanned a file in front of him. She smiled as his glasses slowly slipped down the bridge of his nose, and then at him groaning as he used his index finger to push it back in place via the nosepiece.

"You think that if you look at the same evidence information long enough it might change?"

He kept his body hunched in his study pose, but lightly raised his head and eyes to her so that he regarded her over the top rims of his glasses. He wiped absently at a dab of mayonnaise on the corner of his mouth. "There's got to be something more that I'm missing, Sara."

She peeled herself from the door and slid across the floor toward his desk. She made an exaggerated show of leaning across to look at what he was reading and tilted her head. "I doubt that there's anything beyond what you see in a DNA analysis report, Grissom. It's pretty conclusive."

He nodded and removed his glasses, rubbing tiredly at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I'd suggest you just humour me, but I know you don't do that."

"It just wastes time."

"Which we don't have."

She clicked in air through the side of her mouth and set another file on his desk. "I wish I had better news for you, but it looks like we hit another dead end with trace."

He let a brow flick and quickly opened the file. He scanned the report for a few seconds. "Soap?"

"Dove, to be exact," she sighed.

He closed the file and sat back in his chair. "Which seventy percent of the population uses."

"Actually it's probably closer to forty but …" she stopped when his eyes flicked at her in annoyance. "Sorry."

"So he holds them captive for weeks at a time, keeps them clean and well groomed, while beating, raping and torturing them." His arms folded across his chest. "What do the SAE findings say?"

"He wore a condom. Latex, lubricant, spermicide, the whole shebang."

He looked down at the desk and dropped his hand to it to tap a single finger repeatedly on top of an Entomology article. "Catherine confirmed that the outfit our victim was found wearing didn't belong to the victim."

"Which is fairly obvious considering she was a club-hopping, attractive young woman well immersed in the haute couture culture, and the outfit something from Leave it to Beaver."

His eyes asked her to stop being a smartass, but his mouth voiced something else. "Aside from the Facebook site, are there any other commonalities between the victims?"

Catherine's voice answered the question, which made Sara jerk in surprise.

"Nothing, Gil. Apart from the obvious, these girls had absolutely nothing that would tie them together."

He tilted his head at her and pressed the ear-hook of his glasses' arm against his bottom lip. "So this is just a random internet selection?"

"It appears that way." She walked in beside Sara and flicked her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder before she leaned over Grissom's desk and pressed her hands onto the surface. She spoke as she let her eyes scan over Sara's report. "The handles he uses are all Star Trek based, but his targets usually aren't fans of the show."

Sara smirked. "Show me a woman that is."

Catherine had a silent snicker that was further silenced by Grissom clearing his throat. "All of the girls are just your typical pretty young women looking for some online fun." His lips pursed into a pout. "What about their discussion topics? Is there a theme that binds them?"

Catherine raised a coy brow that showed a slight bit of humour. "Yeah. The G-Force Eagle."

That got both Grissom and Sara's attention. It was Sara who spoke first. "What kind of connection? Were they conquests of the Eagle?"

Grissom flicked his eyes to Sara. "That would indicate a commonality, Sara."

She rolled her eyes and smirked at her own stupidity. Catherine snorted and shook her head. "No, they all listed a crush on him."

"That doesn't really give us much, Cat," Sara offered. "Every woman on the planet has a crush on the Eagle."

Grissom raised a questioning brow. "All brawn and no brains," he remarked jealously.

Catherine sighed and set her hands on her hip. The movement slouched her hip to one side to that she appeared to be regarding her two coworkers in a sultry manner. "It's what gets the juices flowing, Gil. He's a good looking guy. He's a hero. He's …"

"In love with the Swan," Sara finished. "That's what makes him so appealing. He's a hero who's unattainable."

Catherine frowned. "There's been no confirmation that he and the Swan are anything besides teammates. I mean, have you ever seen them at Press Conferences? They couldn't be more detached from each other."

Sara shrugged and looked at Grissom. "Need you be reminded of Brad and Angelina?"

Grissom groaned loudly. "Is there any chance that we can cease and desist all speculation as to whether the Swan and Eagle are involved, and get back on topic?"

Catherine smiled. "I thought the Eagle was the topic."

Grissom raised his eyes to her and offered her an unimpressed look. "Have Archie isolate all Facebook users in the General Las Vegas area and tag any that refer to their attraction to G1. From there, I want you to isolate any that have friends on their list with Star Trek handles."

Catherine smiled and set a thin stack of papers onto the desk in front of him. "Already done, Gil. You have 500 potential victims."

He groaned and dropped his forehead on the desk. "How many of them can we actually make physical contact with?"

"About half. We can search via IP, but that'll take some time, with wireless, these kids can pretty much hack in anywhere."

Catherine dropped her head and studied her exhausted friend for a long few seconds. Finally she turned to Sara. "Do me a favour, Sara. Get him out of here, take him to lunch, to bed, or wherever. Just force him to take a break."

Sara winced and shuddered at Catherine's blunt request. She sighed and walked behind the table to her supervisor. "I'll take him to lunch."

She picked up the handset from the phone at Grissom's desk. "I'll make some calls and see if we have a way of sending a bulletin to these girls."


"I'll see you at 8 then, Princess. Don't be late."

Princess giggled and blew a couple of kisses at her communicator in response to Mark. There was no way she was going to be even a nano-second late for this evening; he'd been planning it for about a month. In her own mind and daydreams she had a feeling she knew why it was so important to him. It wasn't just for the fact that today marked the 12-month anniversary of the first time they kissed and made love. There had to be more to it than that. It made her heart flutter to speculate as to his excitement.

Was he going to get down on his knee tonight?

She didn't want to get her hopes high at the thought, but it was fairly hard not to. Mark wasn't an easily excitable person, for him to be so insistent and coy about what the evening had in store for them, it had to be so much more than just a dinner, dancing, and then sex.

She walked on air as she breezed past the small back window of Jill's diner. If there were any person in the world who she'd love to spend the afternoon with speculating, it would be her. She might have had several years on Princess, but Jill was as young minded as she was. It was her intention to drag Jill out shopping for something extra special for the night.

Before she rapped her knuckles on the alley-facing door of the venue, she glanced upward to the main security camera and waved.

With the bulk of her clientele being members of G-Force, the Red Rangers Squadron, and the Federation, Jill was very security minded. Around this small area there were at least five cameras, one on display at the front door, one at the back, and the others hidden out of view.

Princess briefly considered doing a cute dance in front of the camera for Jill, to make her laugh, but decided instead to press her fingers to her lips and blow a kiss.

A whisper of her birth name behind her forced her to quickly turn around.

"Who's there?"

"Hello, Sarah," a familiar male voice answered from her left. "Long time no see."

Her eyes widened as she quickly flicked her head to look past her shoulder at the owner of the voice. Her hands balled into fists, ready to strike past her face for transmutation should he be carrying a weapon.


He chuckled low as he stepped out from behind a large trash container. "In the flesh."

All nervousness quickly left her when she saw his attire. She stifled a smile and deliberately, viciously, ran her eyes up and down his body.

"Have you given up on your dreams of becoming a Klingon and decided to try your hand at becoming the G-Force Eagle?"

He set his hands on his hips and puffed out his lycra-covered chest in a superhero pose. "I am the Eagle, Sarah."

She pressed her fingers to her lips and giggled. "Oh. Uh. Really? But I thought you were a Klingon?"

He didn't like the doubt in her tone. "What were you expecting?"

She shrugged and flicked her hair over her shoulder in a flippant, arrogant manner. "Oh, I don't know. For the Eagle to be someone who didn't get his scrawny ass kicked by a woman."

His look darkened and he circle closed a set of homemade spandex wings around himself. "I am loathe to strike a woman."

Her lip curled in a smile. "Oh I see." She shrugged a shoulder and walked to the door. "Oh well, I can't say it was nice to see you again, but goodbye." She opened the screen door and paused a second. Her head turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Oh, and by the way. Leave me alone will you? My boyfriend is the jealous type, and …" she smirked. "He's definitely more Eagle than you are."

He moved quickly and was pressed up behind her before she inhaled a breath. "Just because he flies a pissy little Cessna, Sarah," he hissed against her ear. "Doesn't mean he is half the Eagle I am. I fly a jet and Command the Phoenix."

She shuddered at the stale smell of Doritos on his breath. Nerves tingled on her skin at the touch of sweat-damp lycra against her arms. "I said back-off," she growled. "I am not someone you really want to play this game with."

"You have little choice. I told you that someone needed to teach you a lesson." He stuck something small and hard into her ribs. "Consider this lesson one."

Her head ticked to one side as she tried to establish exactly what his choice of weapon was. "Don't start something you can't finish, Chris. You've just crossed the line between mischief and a felony here."

"I have immunity," he hissed into her ear. "I'm the damn Eagle. I can make up any line of bullshit to turn it against you – it's what I'm good at."

She growled low. If she was going to be brought down by a nutcase that wasn't Zoltar, then she was going to go down fighting.

"How dare you insult him like that," she snarled as she dropped her hand and snagged his wrist. In a move that rivaled the whirlwind attack, she had his wrist in his hand and had spun to face him. She increased the pressure of her grip, forcing him to a knee on the ground. "You have no idea who he is."

She glared down at his weapon, snarling when she saw it was a water pistol. "What the Hell?" She threw his arm back at him and turned sharply, arrogantly, on her heel. "Now get out of here before the real Eagle swoops down here and gives you a lesson of his own."

On his knees and holding on to his wrist, Chris weighed his options. This girl was far more feisty and aggressive than any of the others. Chances were she would survive him much better and longer than his previous "girlfriends". He slowly threaded his hand to the back of his costume and retrieved a large taser device from his belt.

"I'll teach you to be a lady," he growled, hoping for her to turn around so that he could see her reaction as he pumped her lithe little body full of electricity.

She responded to his inner desire by turning sharply and raising her wrist to her face. "I warned you, asshole, now …." Her brows knitted together in an angry glare as she called out "G-Force Transmute!"

As she called out a command he didn't recognize, nor understand, Chris lunged at her. The tazer locked on her upper thigh and crackled a blue line of electricity.

Her eyes flashed and body tensed, dropping her arm from her face to abort her transformation into G-Force Swan. She loudly called her Commander's name as she fell to her knees, partially paralyzed by the shock, but still conscious.

Chris frowned at the ineffectiveness of his weapon; it had worked so well with his other conquests. He growled a laugh as he increased the charge, but still she remained conscious. She seemed to fight against it, using a long yell to force her hands to clumsily swipe at the weapon against her leg.

"Don't fight it," he warned. "I'll kill you before I let you go. Don't make me kill you, Sarah."

She stared at him, her eyes wide and desperate. Her mouth gaped open with her facial muscles unable to release and let her close it. "Mark!" she slurred in as much of a yell as she could. "Help me…"

Her eyes fell to her communicator as she felt the energy increase. With her remaining strength she tried to lift it to her mouth. "G …. G ….G3 to…"

Chris set the tazer to the highest setting, finally dropping is prey unconscious to the ground. He smiled as he watched her lifeless body twitch on the bitumen.

"I warned you, Sarah."

He dropped beside her and growled in disappointment at having to kill someone who seemed like she'd be the perfect wife.

"What a waste," he grunted as he checked for a pulse. His eyes widened when he felt one, heavy and strong. "Interesting. That charge should have killed you."

Ignoring the shuffle of feet scurrying away in the alley, he took hold of Princess' hands and dragged her along the bitumen toward his car.

"Time to come home, Sarah. I'll make you a lady."


"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

"Uh, uh. I think I just witnessed a murder."

"A murder? Where are you?"

"I'm at the corner of Jarvis and Apex. In the Alley behind Jill's."

"The police are on their way, are you in danger?"

"No. Uh. No. But … But … The Eagle!"

"Wait. Did you say the Eagle? As in G-Force? Is he the victim?"

"No. No. He was the one who killed her. God, I just can't believe … I saw him kill her … I'd never believe it."

"Just stay where you are. The police are on their way."

"He just killed her. No reason. He attacked … She didn't do anything wrong. He killed her then just took her."