HH_mirror

"That's no issue," Kurama grinned, and with a little concentration made himself more like his human counterpart. "I can put illusions on the two of you, if you're up for more games."

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I turn to look at Matt. I knew Kurama could do this because he did in London. "So, hacker, game over or continue?" I ask, grinning. I'd like to continue. "We've still got two and a half hours before we need to catch our portkey."

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"Let's get some distance between the police and us, then go again. And hope they didn't get a good look at our faces, the last thing proto-you needs to know is that we're here."

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"I know the cops didn't, can't guarantee for our good friends, though..." He parked and cast the change illusion over both of them, a trick that would make them seem like a plain face in the crowd to whoever was looking.

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"I'm half tempted to take me out," I mutter and then laugh. "That would be a rather weird form of suicide or something. But you," I gesture at Kurama with my chin, "look different than before." I frown and look at Matt. "Did the proto-me hear about the motorcycles on the M-4?" If I had, I might pay attention to the thugs talking about someone with blond hair and a redhead and a pink haired giry boy.

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"Huh?!" That should be good enough of an answer for Mello.

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"What other trouble have you gotten in to?" Kurama asked, turning back on to a main road and scanning for their new friends.

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"It's only trouble if you get caught," I say. It's painful, but I say, "Just after we arrived initially, we went to London and stole a couple of bikes off a gang and rode them the wrong way on the M-4."

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The lost look on Matt's face said it all: he didn't remember that at all.

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"You kids really know how to rock," he grinned, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched for their friends. "We need to do this more often."

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It actually kinda helped that Kurama didn't say anything about it. I snort. "Who'da thought an old man would be worth the time," I say, sliding the reloaded magazine back into my gun.

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Matt shook his head and pointed. "Over there."

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"Old means having more experience with how to have tons of fun," Kurama grinned, pulling out in front of their panicked-looking new pals, coming within about two inches of being t-boned. Then he grinned, gave the guys a cheeky wave, and then gunned the gas off to another street.

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I roll my eyes at him. "Or being senile," I say sweetly. I turn around to see if they're following us and am not disappointed. "So, do we shoot again or just play Tag?" I ask.

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Matt stared for a minute, then shot point blank at the car, hitting the hood. "Tag, they're it."

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"See, Matt, I would've killed to have a comprehensive problem solver like you working for me back in the day," he took a sharp turn onto the wrong side of the road, dodging a truck and a few late-night commuters. He jumped the median back onto the right side of the road, wincing through a laugh at the sound of screeching tires when their pals didn't seem to have quick enough reflexes to dodge the truck.

"You would've done well to have been born a demon."

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"Only if they have hand held gaming systems," I say. "And, in front of us," I say, aiming at the car that's heading for us with it's windows going down and a bit too much metal sticking out of those windows. I take a pot shot at their grill and then their windshield.

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"Well, if I had been born a demon, by nature I would have been raised differently, so theoretically I wouldn't be a gamer then."

Matt shot out the window, getting the side mirror and one of the guys in the throat.

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"We have games," Kurama banked hard right as the car they'd shot into spun out of control, the driver quite incapacitated. "Just, you know, less 8-bit and more hack-someone-else-to-bits."

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"Always amusing," I mutter, watching the car behind us. I look around and don't see any others that seem to be aiming us just yet I frown when my stomach growls. "Maybe we should hide and grab something to eat. There should be something open." Stupid stomach.

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"Find a convienience store, one of us can pop in quickly."

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"You couldn't have mentioned this before we initiated a high-speed chase," Kurama muttered, taking a sharp turn into a side street to lose their chasers.

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I snarl at him. "It's not like I planned on my stomach deciding it needed food." I pat my pockets, but I know there isn't any chocolate in them. I only have so much pocket space. "Besides, if you can't lose them, you're just full of hot air, old man."

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"This is fucking...." Matt shoots again, getting the driver straight in the head. "NOW if you can't lose them, you're fucking retarded."

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