AN: Well, I was going through old stories some time ago, and came across the good ol' Keena and Jabez series--my first REAL attempts at giving the stories a quick scan, I came to the conclusion that they really weren't all that stunning and could definitely do with a re-write. So here we are, at the beginning of the revised version of the first K&J story. I'm not sure if the story's worth the revision, but the rewrite keeps me from being bored while trying to settle on a new story to write. :)

Ch1 Cityscape

The city streets were rather narrow, considering the amount of traffic that traversed them daily. The city was bustling, as always. Women weaved in and out of roadside shops, usually in pairs or small groups, and often talking excitedly. Merchants shouted in an attempt to attract buyers for their wares, sometimes waving their merchandise in the faces of passers-by. Vehicles passed the pedestrians by at a crawling pace, unable to move quickly due to the crowded roadways. Somewhere in the distance someone screamed--a sound which was ignored by those who heard it. Likely it had been a child at play, or a close call with a too quickly moving vehicle. Both were common.

On the crowded sidewalk a young woman slipped quickly between people and around roadside stands, ignoring the vendors' calls and the glares of those whom she sometimes shouldered out of her way. Some of them recognized her, others didn't, but it was easy enough for all to tell that speaking out against her would be pointless--and perhaps, those who recognized her knew, dangerous. Certainly she wasn't a very noticeable type, but it was an intentional desire to blend in which sometimes failed miserably. Plain brown hair was pulled away from her face in an rushed and messy manner, and her brown eyes scanned the roads with careful attention. She wore simple, common clothes--dark pants, tank top, and well-worn sneakers that didn't exactly scream for attention; her motif was comfort and maneuverability, and any similar young woman could pass on the streets unnoticed all together.

However, not all young women had a parrot-sized imp perched on their shoulder, shouting in their ear about the virtues of refraining from swearing. . . .

The imp was not something that the average individual would have encountered in their lifetime, and he was not easily missed unless he wanted to be. Dog-faced, crow-winged, and whip-tailed, the imp called more attention and demanded more silent respect than the young woman upon whose shoulder he customarily sat.

The young woman walked with haste in her steps and without tolerance for anyone who stepped in her way, and the imp's words in her ear preaching the benefits of politeness went completely ignored. When the young woman finally came to a pause it was before a small building, with vandalized metal doors and no windows whatsoever. Imposing though the building looked on the outside, the woman knew that the inside was nothing more than slightly dingy public rest rooms. She entered the small building and cast a glance around, searching, assuring herself that the room in which she stood was empty and would provide suitable privacy. With a small, hardly visible grin, the young woman locked the door behind her.

"Let's make this quick, shall we?" the imp spoke up, flitting from her shoulder to land atop one of the stall doors--a vantage point from which he could survey the whole room . . . just in case. "I hate this city."

The young woman nodded slightly, glancing briefly at the imp's reflection in the mirror before which she stood.

"Far too many humans," the imp added casually. "You know how I detest humans." As the young woman's look turned deadly, the imp grinned and amended his statement. "With the exception of your lovely self, of course, Keena."

The only response the imp earned was a frown at his glibness before the young woman turned her attention to different matters. Silently she opened a small pouch that hung on her belt, and had anyone been around to see, they would have undoubtedly been surprised to see the high-class dress that the girl pulled from the impossibly small space. The pouch was an item that made Keena's life much simpler, as the construct was magically built to weightlessly carry things much larger than itself--an item that any woman would doubtlessly be glad to have.

With a small sigh Keena set the dress aside. She felt a small amount of reluctance as she pulled from her right hand a dark glove, fingerless and without a match, and shoved it into the pouch at her hip. The glove was a reassurance when worn, and though not completely inconspicuous, was common-looking enough to often go overlooked by the casual passer-by. That was the way she liked it, though any who crossed her would soon find out that the glove was anything but innocent.

She also added to the magical pouch a small device that she had laughingly dubbed Id. Properly, it was called an Audio Visual Information Detector, or AVID, but more concerned with the information detection part Keena had shortened the title, despite the protests of the techno wizard that had constructed it for her. Id was a highly intelligent computer, capable of more feats than the young woman would ever admit, but including hacking, night vision, the ability to respond to its user's thoughts, and the ability to detect approaching life forces. Perhaps the most helpful use, by sight or with a name to go on, Id could call up information on anyone in the extensive compu-system lovingly kept by the hierarchy, including all humans presently alive and many who had passed away, some up to centuries ago. Small and extremely portable, Id looked like nothing so much as a half of a pair of sunglasses, with the computer speaker fitting neatly in her ear and the material of the screen over her left eye; like the material of a pair of sunglasses, the screen allowed her to see through while others looking through the opposite way could not. At her urging, Id had been made to respond only to her thought patterns, making it impossible for a stranger to access.

With the most obvious of her weapons removed, Keena again lifted the dress and slipped it on over her head, allowing the flowing skirt to effectively cover the pouch on her belt and the dagger that rested in a holster on her right leg. After straightening the dress, the young woman carelessly freed her hair from the elastic that held it out of her face and went about setting other small things right. In a few short minutes one would hardly recognize her as the girl who had entered the rest room, which was precisely what she had had in mind. Even the most careful observer probably wouldn't notice the small earpiece that kept her connected audibly to Id, and if someone were to see that that well-dressed young lady wore ratty running shoes, well. . . .

Taking a final glance at her reflection in the mirror, Keena turned to face the imp behind her. "Well, let's roll, Yuki."

The imp shifted, hopping slightly atop the stall door. "I hate these jobs that take us to the rich sector of the city," he complained, not for the first time. "All those lawmen make me nervous. I always get the feeling that they suspect something."

Keena frowned. The imp's words were not helpful in the least. It was true that the security in the higher class sectors of the city was tighter--that getting access to the gated communities could sometimes be bothersome--but she had never run into a problem that she couldn't handle. After all, she never entered the gated streets unless she had an invitation from one of the Lords living there--at least, she never did so obviously. And this time, like most others, she had her invite easy to hand.

"Okay, okay," Yuki responded to the young woman's scowl. "Let's just go."

At an impatient gesture from Keena, Yuki flitted hastily to the floor by her feet, scurrying to hide himself comfortably in the layers of her skirt. It was a hiding place that he found highly demeaning, but it was the simplest and most fool-proof way to hide his presence. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't complain about it. As Keena worked to smooth out the skirt, the imp made sure to let her know of his displeasure. "Watch what you're doing," he shouted, his voice muffled. "And don't you forget I'm here," he continued. "I don't want to get squished, or something."

Unsmiling, Keena cast one more glance at the mirror before stepping back out onto the street. She was noticed casually by the odd passer-by, but now as just another passing girl--one that seemed to belong in a classier part of the city. She walked confidently to the gated streets that she needed to access, and she and her invite were hardly given a second glance by the bored-looking guard who waved her in. Keena made her way up the avenues of high society, entered the gates of a mansion as though she lived there herself, strode between pillars up wide marble steps to the large double door and rang the bell. The door was answered by a stodgy-looking butler to whom she gave a small card, a simple black symbol on a plain white rectangle. As the butler retreated to present her 'identification' to his master, Keena adopted an impatient stance. Even though her wait was short, by the time the butler returned she looked to be fuming at being put off, and she was subsequently ushered quite quickly into a sitting room where the young master of the house awaited her.

As the lord stood to greet her, Keena couldn't help but feel a bit uncertain. She wasn't concerned about defending herself physically--she was fairly confident of her ability to fight off attackers--but this particular man had unnerved her slightly from the beginning of their dealings. He didn't seem particularly dangerous--certainly not compared to some of her clients--and he had given her his real name upon first introductions, wore no disguise at all, and even used his own manor as a meeting place. Everything about his actions pointed toward an aboveboard dealing. It wasn't his way of doing business that made her unsure, but the fact that the lord was young, handsome, single, and disconcertingly smooth in manner and speech. It made her wonder if she might be taken off guard at any moment.

"You look more lovely than ever," the young lord greeted as he took one of her hands in his. Before she could protest he guided her toward the couch upon which he had been waiting, and bid her to take a seat. She did so reluctantly, determined to play things out--she would be gone as soon as their transaction was complete--but she tensed as the young lord took a seat on the couch close beside her. "How about dinner tonight?" he posed unexpectedly, a charming smile on his features. "And the theater? I'm sure I could get us in, even on such short notice."

"M'lord, I don't believe that was part of our deal," Keena pointed out, keeping her tone carefully even.

The young lord gave a small laugh. "Might we be able to add it in?"

"I don't think so." Keena paused, then decided it would be best to get straight to the point as quickly as possible. "Do you have the money?"

He smiled at her, amused. "Of course I do. You have the item?"

In response Keena withdrew a small pouch from one of many pockets hidden in the folds of the dress she wore. The contents of the small bag she dumped into her palm, revealing the item to be a small microchip of uncertain origin. She held the chip in the open for only a moment before closing her fingers lightly around it, giving the young lord a meaningful look. The young man smiled his understanding, and from a nearby table produced a pouch of his own that jangled with the sound of coins. He opened the bag, allowing Keena a look at the gold inside, and easily the two traded. As the lord viewed the microchip with a discerning eye, Keena smiled slyly at the heaviness of the gold she had just been given.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, M'lord," she said as she stood to leave, glad that their deal was at its close.

"How about dancing?"

Keena frowned down at the young man, surprised. "What?"

"Dancing," the lord repeated with a tempting smile. "I'm hosting a ball in a few days time. Won't you come?"

The young woman hesitated, her normal response of outright refusal dying on her lips. Instead, and most surprising even to herself, she responded with a merely unpromising, "Perhaps."

The young lord's smile broadened slightly, and he offered Keena a small bow. "Excellent," he said, sounding pleased despite the lack of definite confirmation. "I'll be eagerly awaiting your arrival."

Keena merely frowned down at him, put off by his confidence, his evident decision to take her response as agreement. Without further word she turned, striding quickly from the room and showing herself from the manor. She moved hastily along the streets, receiving not a glance from the guard as she left the gated community. A look or two greeted her on the less lordly-minded area of the city, but those were quickly diverted elsewhere by a quick glare. The grungy restrooms had never looked so welcoming, and Keena was never so glad to pull from her body the fancy dress she had been wearing--sending Yuki scurrying from the skirts. She was similarly glad to replace Id on her ear, and her dark glove on her hand, and have the dress stuffed away back into the magical pouch. Restoring her appearance to normal and pulling her hair back took hardly any time at all, and as she was giving herself a final look in the mirror Yuki settled himself on his usual perch on her shoulder.

"Perhaps?" Yuki posed, having been eager to pose his query since leaving the lord's manor.

Keena's small frown in the mirror turned into a scowl.

"Perhaps, Keena?" the imp repeated when he got no response the first time.

"It just came out," Keena snapped, turning hastily to exit the rest room, assured that her appearance was back to usual. She stepped out onto the street and headed immediately in a particular direction, despite having moments ago had no destination in mind.

Yuki frowned. "Well you're not actually going to go to this lord's ball, are you?"

"Of course not!" She scowled further at the glances that her exclamation earned her, then added more calmly, "We're leaving this city. Let's go somewhere far away. We can take a vacation."

"A vacation?" the imp wondered, surprised by the suggestion but not about to argue. "Sounds nice."