(AN: This is actually in the same canon as Down the Drain, and as the "filler" my younger brother has written about the same characters. This is actually a sequel to two or three scenes he has written, which are on fictionpress on his account. However, enough information is given here for it to make as much sense as it ever will. Dedicated to the other members of the RP, to whom Luke and Kisho and the rest of the forthcoming cast belong.)

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INTERLUDE AT THE AIRSHIP SHOW

--by:lira-chan--

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Zaiden left the conference hall, on foot, eyes on the pavement as he watched his long strides eat up the distance. He had to pace himself, however; it was still half a mile to the hotel where he was staying. They had all been invited, as guests, to the airship show, but of course that damned Luke couldn’t resist participating in some manner despite his spectator status. Luke’s miniaturized airship had blown up quite spectacularly as it had tried to maneuver between two of the larger models, and Zaiden had been sprayed with shrapnel. His professional attire was in tatters, and he was dripping with a viscous fluid he expected was some form of juice; he had to change and return before Kisho noticed he was missing.

“Yo! Zay!” a voice called from behind him. Zaiden suspected that Luke still hadn’t bothered to learn his full name.

“It’s Zaiden,” he corrected, enunciating slowly. He was conserving breath at his pace, and was a bit confused as to how easily Luke had caught up. Zaiden was quite fit from martial arts, and didn’t think the wannabe scientist Luke knew the meaning of proper exercise. He then saw out of the corner of his eye that Luke was riding on a housefly that had been expanded so that its wingspan exceeded six feet.

“Zaiden,” Luke said, dismissing the older male’s concern about names without much thought. “I need a sample of that juice on you. Most of it evaporated in the explosion, and Analise just informed me that the sample back at The House was eaten by Hoppy.”

Hoppy. The fly Luke was perched on. “You brought that stuff from the infiltration mission?” On one of Kisho’s earliest assignments, Luke had decided the best way to get inside a building was by flying himself into the filtration ducts on the back of a parakeet he had “scientifically” expanded to ridiculous proportions. He had obviously used the same solution on a fly found within the conference hall. “Can’t you ever be, I don’t know… Discreet? Subtle? I can’t remember a single mission you were sent on that went off as planned. And yet somehow your methods are ultimately successful.”

The last word was spat out. Zaiden was rapidly becoming sick of working with this group of eccentrics. But he could say for them one thing – the work was never dull.

Before Luke could reply, the young man’s cell phone went off. The chorus of an archaic song filled the air, one immediately recognizable as “You’re Gonna Go Far Kid” by the Offspring.

“Turn that off,” Zaiden told Luke. It was a risk; the person calling was probably Kisho, and it wouldn’t be wise for either of them to ignore their employer. And yet the song Luke had chosen as a ringtone was essentially about a young assassin, who was expected to surpass his teacher but was killed before he could become too successful. Zaiden was like that young assassin; when he’d stumbled upon Kisho all that time ago and been recruited into this madcap mission, Zaiden had been on a fast-track to success as a young diplomat to Japan. Now he could be charged with treason in at least five different countries, and he suspected his eventual end would be just as swift as that of the assassin in the song.