Disclaimer: Do not own Human Target, or any of its characters. I simply own all the other ones... And my imagination ;)

Author's Note: Started this piece after an idea came to my mind as I was reading "Their weirdest job" by cedricsowner. The idea is things that we consider myths, are actually real and co-existing with the modern world. Nothing no one hasn't done before, sure. But doesn't mean I don't have my own ideas to throw in. Extra note, the opening words are from the song "The Burning Times" by Christy Moore. Good song. Totally recommend.

Extra Note: Until I get other chapters done, you'll have to consider this a sort of sneak-peak taste of the story, OK? I wanna get as many chapters done ahead of time before I post em. Otherwise, I wont finish this and that would suck.

"And the colours of the sea bind your eyes with trembling mermaids, and you touch the distant beaches with tales of brave Ulysses. How his naked ears were tortured by the sirens sweetly singing, for the sparkling waves are calling you to kiss their white laced lips," a woman's voice sang softly, silencing the fussy cooing of two bundled infants, their little hands reaching out to grasp at her face

"There there, my stars," she whispered, her warm breath tickling their faces, electing giggles and babbles of noises. "No more crying tonight." She cradled them to her chest as she rose from the wooden rocking and softly rocked them as she went to their crib, laying them gently down for bed.

They wiggled softly, as she turned on their seahorse and mermaid mobile, before their wiggling ceased, and they sighed softly before falling asleep. She softly caressed their cheeks, and smiled. "Sleep tight my stars." She reached over to turn off the small lamp that illuminated the room, when the door to the nursery flew opened.

"Veronica! Veronica, we must go! Now!" Veronica, the woman, gasped in horror at the sight of the man before her, covered in blood and deep wounds. "Troy! By Apollo! What has happened to you?" She reached out to cup his face as he held hers in his blood coated hands, caressing her cheek.

"I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, shaking her slightly. "I failed you and our children! They come! They come to take our young away. By the Gods, forgive me for not being stronger or wiser with the gift that was bestowed upon me and my ancestors." He was shaking and crying. She had never seen her husband cry, and it frightened her.

She kissed his forehead. "W-We must run! We must get out of here! I wont let them take our children," She released his face and went to their cribs, going to scoop up the bundled infants to her chest, only to be almost knocked over as the side of the nursery was blown apart!

"No! You can not have them!" Veronica screamed, shielding the children as they awoke, crying out in fear and the noise, as three men shrouded in cloaks, reached out to grab her shoulder and yank her away, only to be shot dead by a poison arrow. The two remaining mens covered head's snapped to the weak Troy, whose blue eyes were glowing, a newly loaded crossbow aimed shakily at the middle man.

"Quam praesumo vos tentatio Kluge domus! Vos mos subsisto a meus prosapia!" He charged at them as Veronica cried out, tears falling onto the crying infants, as the room began to be engulfed in a bright, blinding light, the cries echoing out.

Years later.

Since his decision to leave the police force and partner up with the ex-assassin known to him as Christopher Chance, ex-cop Laverne Winston had seen, heard, and been apart of some strange shit. Done some crazy things. Meet some out of this world people. Hell! He worked with a man that even some of his old police colleges had whispered in fear!

But never before, never in his life, had he seen something as odd and unnerving as what sat before him. Hell, when he'd gotten the call from their new client – scratch that, clients, plural – and wasn't meet with fearful quivering or urgent pushing for help, and instead got calm and collected voices, he'd felt wary.

And now that his clients sat before him, he knew why.

Besides their age and size, both looking to be around sixteen or seventeen, the way they dressed, walked, looked, and just them in general was damn creepy. One male and one female. They stood at what he'd guesstimate to be around 5' 4", with light skin and sandy blonde hair, the girls brushing to her shoulders, while the boys was cut short, his bangs spiked. Their eyes were pale; the boys a pale blue and the girls a sea-foam pale green.

Their strange look was topped off with the fact that both wore dark clothes and boots under dark brown cloaks... And they held each others hands, even as they sat. It wasn't in a romantic way. More like it was habitual and needed. He could tell they were brother and sister... But even that didn't call for them needing to hold each others hands.

"We make you uncomfortable," the girl pipped up, her voice almost emotionless. "Don't we, Mr. Winston," the male finished, his voice more droid like. That was another weird thing. They sounded like robots and finished each others sentences. He remembered once reading something about a study that showed twins shared some kind of mental link with each other, but this was pushing it.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, and flipping through the notes he'd taken while talking to them over the phone, he slowly fixed them with a look. "Listen, Mr. and Misses... Kluge... You gotta understand that, given the circumstances of your age... Well you can understand why I find your alls showing up to be a little... Farfetched and unnerving."

The young girl smile softly, her eyes actually flickering with some emotion, as she spoke. "Quit understandable," her brother jumped in. "We see your reasoning. However we assure you," his sister jumped in again. "This is no joke on your behalf."

Winston glanced between the two, before sighing. They seemed to be telling the truth. Maybe they were in some kind of danger. Hell it wasn't like they hadn't had stranger customers. And the two actually had offered to pay a reasonable amount for their services, which he would have to point out to Ilsa.

"So you will discuss us with your companions and come to a ruling?" The young male cut into his thoughts, startling him. He'd just been about to have that thought cross his mind... How did the kid... Winston shook himself mentally and nodded. "Yes, I'll have a talk with my boss, Miss Pucci and we'll look over your case to see if we can take your case or not."

The two looked at each other. The girl smiled, and the boy frowned, before the both turned to him and spoke. "Thank-you for considering our case, sir."

R & R Plz.

Note: Beware of spelling or grammatical errors. I fix those way later.

Translation: From Latin to English - "How dare you attack the house of Kluge! You will stay away from my family!"