(Who you gonna call… GHOST BUSTERS…)

The punching bag moved heavily. Gemma was not focusing on it. Looking closer she was more involved in her headphones as she listened to the Ghostbusters theme song. She was frustrated but that didn’t show in any way other than the fact that she was destroying a punching bag, and it didn’t even help with the stress. Listening to the song was better for that. Her Playlist was her haven of peace, far away from her problems which consisted of her job performance, that jerk Ian and her family.

Well, if she had to be honest, that jerk was at the top of the list. The fact that she came in third compared to him winning did not sit well with her at all. She hated being third. Third was not good enough. If only she had battled Tut instead of the jerk she would have made it to finals.

Stupid playlist. Stupid technology. She could have sworn she had checked to see if the loop all setting was off. Metallica to Chopin did not make for a consistent beat down.

That jerk, she would have pummeled his ass on a few more seconds of Metallica. Though, if she had to be even more honest, it was her own performance she was pissed about. Still, focusing on the jerk helped a bit. So to the top of her list he went.

It didn’t help that he was good-looking in the way she liked. Especially with those curls bouncing every time he landed and bounced after taking a hit. And damn those arms and the ridges that formed every time he flexed to take a shot were downright sinful. If she didn’t hate him so much for thinking that he was Adonis himself, she would have given the idea a chance.

Thinking of all this made her mutter “What if I had…”

As the song ended, Gemma heard someone say “For warrior to say 'What if…' , is the beginning of their demise.”

Gemma spun around keeping her stance up, to see slightly built man with blond-grey hair with an endearing smile on his face. It took her a while to realize that it was him who had spoken. His voice was deep and grandfatherly but he looked to be barely in his mid –twenties. He looked like he could be from anywhere with his jeans and cut off shirt and weirdly enough, Japanese wooden sandals.

In the few seconds it took her to notice all of this, she also saw him giving her a once over. She could only imagine what she looked like in her sweat drenched razor back sticking to her lithe body. The dimly lit gymnasium making her skin look three to four shades darker than her usual golden brown skin tone. The dark stubble on her head (a penance for the loss) barely visible but adding to the angularity of her frame. Even with her average height, she would easily tower over the man in front of her by a head at least. She slowly relaxed her body out of the stance she had been holding up until now.

“Excuse me?” she said while taking one bud out of her ears. Tilting her head to the side, pretending as if she hadn’t really understood what he meant.

“Oh please, do we really need to discuss your unwanted sabbatical… for the past ten months.”

The man looked around the room, all the while speaking.

“This place could pretty much be your home now, considering you’re here most of the day, almost every day of the week.”

As he turned his face slightly, Gemma saw that he had a tattoo on his temple. It looked like suspiciously like a ….. a USB port?

When he looked back at her, his eyes gained a piercing quality she associated with the best fighters, the earlier kindly smile gone.

"Aren’t you tired of the place?"

At that Gemma noticed a slight smile but said nothing. Without a pause, the man continued nonchalantly "I have an opening for you in a permanent team" now inspecting the equipment lying around. She didn't say anything, just listened intently to every nuance of the man’s monologue. Inwardly though there was flutter of excitement starting to build up at the thought of an assignment, even more so for a permanent team assignment.

It was like being welcome home after having been treated like a pariah for a long time. In a controlled voice that did not betray an ounce of the excitement she was feeling she said, "Whats the catch?"

Still not looking at her, he says "No catch…." Giving her a quick glance he adds, "Just get second place next time around ........... maybe some other minor stuff. Maybe." and started moving towards the exit. She heard him say "Show me something interesting and I’ll get in touch."

"Second place?" Gemma wondered as he left the room. Why would anyone want to come second? It came with no benefits, no privileges, nothing. Being second place served no purpose as only the name of Champion was announced to all, everyone else was simply told their final position. So how would he know if she did place second or not? She could have come third like the last time and no one would know. Whatever the case was, she knew she wanted the job. She finally moved towards the next piece of training equipment before she noticed a sheet of paper stuck on the punching bag she had just been using.

When the hell did he leave a piece of paper? Or even come to this side of the room?

She picked up the sheet and started reading it. It listed the condition he had just told her and some vague details regarding the assignment. When she saw one particular detail, her eyes widened in shock but they slowly came back to normal as she thought more about the name she had just read. She stood there for a while and then noticed that the ink was fading from the page at an incredible pace. Within the minute, all the writing had faded and the sheet was now completely blank save for the name she was most interested in. Then it faded away as well.

Gemma looked around the empty gym and then back at where the name had been just a moment ago on the sheet of paper.

She plugged her bud back in and was surprised by the song that was playing. That song was not what she had selected for her playlist because she knew all 4000 odd songs on her music player. She looked at the player to see what it was and saw ‘ No man’s land – Billy Joel’ flashing in white against the luminescent blue of the player’s LCD screen. After listening to the song for a while, she began swaying and striking the air around her. Her face was calm but her eyes were brimming with excitement over the information she had just received.

-------------------------------------

Elsewhere-

He found a folder on his doormat when he reached his apartment. He looked around and then slowly picked it as his left leg was giving him small pangs of pain. He opened it without a pause and began reading. He raised an eyebrow as he read through the single page in the folder. Finishing it, he looked around once more and then opened his door. he tossed the folder in and closed the door.... but didn't go in. he locked the door and pressed the doorbell six times and held the doorbell button down the sixth time for a few seconds. He waited and listened as a whirring noise began inside the apartment.

Bink left the building and looked back towards where his apartment would be. He had liked this apartment, but now everything inside there had been incinerated. He sighed with a rare expression of sadness on his face and pulled out his phone. He dialed the only number saved on it and waited. When he got to voicemail, he simply said, "Code in: Greymatter8442. . . . . . . . . Change of address, change of contact."

And disconnected the call and took out a a box slightly larger than the phone. He put the phone into the box and closed the lid and pressed the button on its side. There was a 'CRRunch ' sound and then he opened the box and dumped the smashed remains of the phone into the trash can nearby. Then he kept the box back into his backpack and walked away without another look back at his favorite apartment yet.