Title: City of the Star
Summary: Raymond Vester is on the job again. He finds himself in a
small community called Citlali with a new partner, Jacqueline Walz. Can
they beat the BSAA to a sample of what the locals refer to as "tlatl?"
Notes: It has been quite the long time since I wrote anything
fanfiction related. I've been working on my own stories, but I just
fell in love with Raymond when I first saw him. I always like the minor
characters for some reason. Poor Raymond, he needs some more fanfic
attention. And more fan art, but that's nothing I can help!
Parker will appear later. I may include Jill or some other BSAA agents.
But you will see Parker! This will also include some headcanon my
sister and I have about Raymond, such as the fact we think he loves red.
Not Grell Sutcliff obsessed, but we think he's to the point of having
red accents in his furnishing, drives a red Corvette Convertible, and
does all his reports in red ink.
Lastly, I may do a sequel, not quite sure yet.
Chapter 1
They were on the way home from school when Reginald DeWitt and Harold
Fliess saw it. On the corner of Ribold Street, in front of the run down
looking bookshop that everyone had expected to go out of business months
ago, sat a bright red Corvette Convertible. The two teens were dimly
aware of their books hitting the pavement as they hurried over to the
car.
"She's a beauty," Harry said, letting out a low whistle. He stepped as
close as he could to the car, wanting to touch the shiny red paint but
not daring to. A car that sleek had to have one hell of an alarm
system.
"I know," Reginald said, trailing off with a sigh. He sounded
lovestruck. "I wonder what you'd have to do to get one."
"Shut up, Reg. I don't even want to think of it!"
The young men spent nearly seven minutes in silence, walking around the
sports car, admiring it from every angle. Luckily for them, the streets
were not busy. Had that not been the case, the friends would have
probably wound up in the hospital. As they stood in the street, both
mentally debating on sliding in the passenger seat just for a second,
they heard a woman say "Excuse me."
They turned in unison to find themselves facing a woman in her late
twenties. She cocked her head to the side, black hair tumbling past her
shoulder as she did. They started to apologize and move out of the
street. She raised an eyebrow to the man who slipped into the driver's
seat. He gave a her a minor shrug of the shoulders in response. As she
took her seat on the passenger's side and buckled herself in, she heard
the taller of the two teenage boys say "We need to get whatever job he
has."
Jacqueline Walz stifled a laugh as she buckled her seat belt. She looked
at the owner of the sleek sports car, Raymond Vester, as he started it.
"May I?" she asked, reaching for the cigarette lighter.
"Go for it," was his response. She popped out the lighter as he drove
off, scattering books as the car cut the corner. This time she could
not hold her laughter in. She was laughing so hard she missed plugging
in the adapter to her laptop twice.
"Check your car for drool stains, darling," she said, still bubbling
with the occasional giggle.
"Don't call me that," Raymond replied, glancing at her before turning
his gaze back to the road. She gave him no response, not even a shrug
or eye roll, as she settled down in the seat and began to type rapidly
on the laptop in her hands.
He had met her nearly an hour before, right in that bookshop that most
of the locals felt needed to go out of business. One of his contacts
for TriCell has sent him to meet his new partner. Boy, was he surprised
and displeased. A new mission was the last thing he wanted. Zenobia
had only occurred five months ago. He had brought the T-Abyss sample
back to them via Jessica Sherawat. What more could they want?
Something from Mexico was the only answer he had been given at the time.
Raymond was told that, along with his partner, he would meet a contact
as soon as they reached Citlali, a city on the Pacific coast of Mexico.
If a mission was the last thing he wanted, a partner was right above it.
He could work alone, it had worked so well for him on the Zenobia.
Sure, he had been partnered with a woman at that time, but she had been
foolish enough to get herself killed before things even fully started.
"Raymond!" The impatient tone of his new partner's voice brought
Raymond back from the cruise ship. "Where were you just now?"
"Thinking of my last mission."
Jacqueline seemed to pout, a move that made Raymond want to roll his own
eyes at her. Instead, he went her route: ignoring her.
"What happened?" she asked. He continued to ignore her. He could feel
her watching him, could see her foot bouncing impatiently out of the
corner of his eye. Still, Raymond ignored her. The ride to their
private plane was silent except for the clacking of the laptop keys.
That brought another question to Raymond's mind. Why would TriCell want
a hacker? Jacqueline, he had been told, was a skilled hacker. He was
also told he would find her to be very useful in Citlali. That, he
would never admit, did have him curious.
It felt like hours before the red car turned into a private hanger smack
in the middle of nowhere. Jacqueline unplugged her laptop, slipped it
back in the black leather bag she carried it in, and got out of the
car. She was smiling at Raymond, something he was not sure he liked.
"Please," she said, "don't kiss the car good-bye."
"I hadn't planned on it." The keys were tossed to a young man who
looked fresh out of school. Raymond headed towards the small aircraft
that awaited them. Jacqueline looked back to the boy before hurrying
after him.
"Wow," she breathed. "You trust him with your 'vette?"
Raymond stopped completely, but not because he wanted to wait for her to
catch him. He looked her in the eye, bright blue that day but he would
find them green tomorrow. Like her hair, she often changed her eye
color. She was wearing heels. Without them, he assumed she would only
be four inches shorter than him. "What I trust," he said slowly, "is
that the kind, wonderful people we work for will make sure my car is
safe. If not, with what they pay us, I can always afford another one."
Jacqueline raised her hands in a defeated gesture. "OK, OK," she said.
"I was just teasing. You don't have to be a grump. Or are you always a
grump?"
That got her no answer. She sighed, wondering what exactly Raymond's
problem was. He had seemed pissed off when they first met, and he
seemed to still be pissed off. On the small plane, she finally got the
chance to ask him exactly what his problem with her was.
The craft was small, with only six seats, a small cockpit, a tiny
galley, and a tinier bathroom. Jacqueline flopped down into the first
seat she reached and clutched her bag to her chest. She has no plans of
letting it go until they were in the air. Without noticing it, she
wrinkled her nose as Raymond passed her to sit as far from her as he
could be. Tossing her bag over her shoulder, Jacqueline rose to her
feet and stalked down the short aisle to his seat. Before Raymond could
object, she dropped herself into the seat next to him, fastened the
seatbelt, and said, "Before we get started, I want to know one thing.
What is your problem with me? You have acted as though I shot your
beloved pet ever since we met. I know I've never seen you before, so
what's your deal?"
Raymond removed his glasses to study her better. In his eyes burned a
mixture of fury at her joining him, amusement at her little outburst,
and admiration for the fact that she gave off the air of a fighter.
Absently twirling the shades by a leg, he said, "I suppose I should
apologize. My anger isn't directed at you, Jacqueline."
"Jackie."
"What?" Raymond demanded.
"Jackie. It's shorter, therefore faster to say." She wanted to laugh
at the confused expression on his face. Instead, she leaned closer to
clarify. "Let's say you need my help. You're about to die and you can
only get out three syllables. Would you rather get out 'Jacqueline' or
'Jackie, help!' I know which one I'd rather hear."
She immediately leaned away, almost certain his response would be to
throttle her. To her surprise, he laughed. "Good point," he said when
his laughter had ceased. "As for my problem, it's not with you. It's
with the fact that I often find myself with a partner, and my last one
chose to die on me."
Jacqueline snorted. "I doubt he had much of a choice."
"She, actually." Raymond paused, then chose to continue on, wanting to
make sure Jacqueline knew everything before deeming him sexist and
tossing him out of the plane. "She spent the entire trip towards our
target complaining that she did not want to go, she had no choice, she
felt like she would be doomed if she took this mission but felt she
could not object. I confess, I always thought she was lacking a little
in training, and - "
"Let me finish, please!" Jacqueline was nearly bouncing in her seat.
Raymond felt sure that was from eagerness and not the plane taking off.
"I'm picturing a blonde, with an impractical non-regulation outfit that
left movement hard and her tits hanging out." It was her turn to laugh
at Raymond's reaction. Before he could ask how she knew, she said,
"It's not my first go around, darling. I've seen girls, bright and dim,
trained and untrained, who break the rules and who follow the rules all
go down because of their sexual side." With a chuckle, she added, "I
highly doubt there's any humanity left in these B.O.W.s to notice a
perky rack and think anything of it."
She began to rummage around in her bag again. Instead of removing her
laptop, she removed a contact lens case. "You won't have to worry about
me," she assured Raymond. "Aside from a few quirks," she said, placing
her finger to her eye, "I'm very practical." He watched as she removed
her contacts, revealing chocolate brown eyes. She placed them in the
case, and, feeling the conversation was over, reached into her bag and
removed an iPod. She smiled once more before putting in her earbuds and
leaned back.
"Well," Raymond decided, looking out of the window as the plane lifted
off, "this might be interesting."