Reinventing Romeo

Author: Dipi

Genre: Alternate Reality, Fantasy, Action, Romance

Rating: R

Chapter 2

"You have GOT to be kidding me."

Darien Romero prided himself in being the kind of man who wasn't easily
surprised, or easily shaken. But this was a bit out of line.

He stopped short on the crumbling sidewalk in front of a sun dried
yellow colored two-story house with chipped paint. His jaw dropped and
rolled before he realized he had done it.

"There's no way in hell I'm going to-,"

"You might want to keep your voice down." At his side Serena wound her
arm through his and beamed a smile up at him. It was an attractive
smile, or at least it might have she not been talking through clenched
teeth.

"It's been a long day, my love," she said, biting off the last word.
She glanced around quickly. "Why don't we get inside and discuss
this."

"Inside?"

Darien made a perturbed look.

"This house doesn't even look like it has an inside."

Serena just growled and tugged his arm with her towards the door.

If the looks of the house were bad enough, the smell was even worse. A
rough, chemical taste caught at the back of Darien's throat and his
eyes burned as tears flooded his eyes.

"I've been more than cooperative," he grumbled lowly, and he knew it
was true, even if Special Agent Serena Ellison did make a rude sound at
that comment.

"I agreed to the clothes," he whined quietly, glancing down at the ill-
fitting jeans with holes covering every part except the area of his
crotch and his behind. His T-shirt wasn't in much better shape. It
was yellow, despite the original color of white. The threading and
long stretched itself into a loose cloth piece.

"I agreed to these preposterous glasses."

With one hand, he gestured to the dark and thick-rimmed glasses he'd
been given. The lenses were clear glass: he didn't need them to see,
but Artemis had insisted on it, besides, it was either that or the fake
mustache that looked like it had been cut right off of a black German
Shepard.

"I even agreed to the haircut."

Alex smoothed one hand over his hair. He wasn't sure where the FBI had
found the barber who'd worked on him, but he would bet a dime to a
doughnut that the man had never even seen a pair of scissors in his
life.

His hair had been cut too short in the front, too uneven on the sides,
and had been left too long in the back. It bristled with cowlicks
Darien never knew he had.

Sensing his frustration, or maybe it was just because she knew it would
provoke him further, Serena Ellison gave him a pate on the arm and
spoke in a voice that reminded him of the patronizing tone used by
kindergarten teachers, traffic cops, and doctors right before they
said, "Bend Over."

"I know it's been rough. You even lowered yourself to fly all the way
to Italy, coach class."

Finally she was beginning to understand. Darien nodded. "And to drive
from the airport in that thing."

His upper lip curling, he glanced over his shoulder past the battered
fifteen-year-old rusty mailbox with the red flag that was bent and
crooked to lock eyes with the beat up rusty 1987 Toyota.

"I'm about to blow if I don't see something technical, and not made out
of a amalgamation of screws and strings."

This time, Serena made the sound of frustration, but he chose to ignore
it completely and continue with his whining and ranting.

"But this…"

Darien looked the house up and down, glancing at the mailbox and his
clothes all over again in less than a second.

"This is…"

"Home."

Damn her. She was both bound and determined to get his goat or she
really meant it. Either way, she was way too perky, almost as perky as
she looked.

And she looked pretty perky, no matter who objected.

While Darien had been busy getting his so-called wardrobe, Serena had
gone through some pretty major changes of her own. Back in New York,
she was your typical career woman: buttoned down, buttoned up. All
business. No nonsense.

But with her long hair into two buns and pigtails streaming down her
shoulders and her body wrapped like a mummy in a hot pink shirt with
rainbow colored shirt that was made for a five-year-old. The woman
looked like she came out of a Barbie thrift shop.

Which of course, was the whole idea.

"Four months…"

"Yup."

"Four months…"

"Yup.

"FOUR MONTHS!!!"

"Yup."

"How are you so calm about this!!!"

"It's my job Romero. Now pipe down."

"The gods must hate me…"

Darien mumbled and he pulled himself towards the door.

They dropped their two simple brown suitcases with a 'thump' on the
stoop of the house.

"Home Sweet Home." She cooed.

"It lacks ambiance."

"Doesn't have air-conditioning either."

"Argh!!!"

They took another slow and agonizing step as Kate fished for the key,
but before they could take another step, a voice drifted to them from
across the street.

"Yoo-hoo! Welcome Neighbors! Hellooo!"

Darien and Serena turned to find a blonde haired woman running across
the street with curious eyes flashing. She resembled Serena in an
uncanny way, despite the length of the hair. Serena's hair went down
to her ankles, while this nosy new neighbor of theirs' had hair up to
the waist.

She was dressed in spandex shorts and an orange tube top with a match
able red ribbon around her hair hurrying across the blacktopped street.

"We've been waiting for you!"

Darien took a quick look up and down the empty street. As far as he
could tell, there was no we, no one but the woman, and had he been
charitable, he might have decided she was the spokesperson, official or
otherwise, for the neighborhood. But he was in no mood for generosity,
and he wouldn't be until he got his life back in four months.

Huffing and puffing, she stopped directly in front of them and gave
them the kind of quick but efficient once over that was mastered only
by years of practice.

"My name's Mina! What's you twos?"

Darien's eyebrow rose at her bad grammar. Then he suddenly realized he
was stiff with nervousness that he forgot the name they had been given.

Luckily, Serena didn't get the same way.

"I'm Missy, and this is Stan."

Mina, who had been paying attention to Serena most of the time, finally
took notice of Darien. Mina, who was not much taller than Serena
acquired Darien's height, which was a good chest taller than her.

"Why, if you don't look just like…"

The light faded as quickly as it came on. The woman snapped her
fingers with impatience. "You know, you know that guy I'm talking
about." She swung around to Kate, looking for assistance. "You know
that guy I mean," she said. "That good-looking one who…oh never mind."

"Andrew, my brother, he brought this place a while ago and he's renting
it to us. You know when he told me about it, he said it was yellow,
well it doesn't look very yellow to me. Your house…" Again, she turned
both herself and the woman until they were facing the other side of the
street and the house directly across from where they stood. It was
garish beyond belief. The color was a mix of the rich ochre of Dijon
mustard and the brassy tint of marigold.

"Now there's a yellow house," Serena said.

The woman beamed with pride.

"Andrew, and if you don't know has the same name as your dear brother,
just finished it. I told him to take it easy on the color, but you
know how men can be." She poked a sharp elbow into Serena's ribs,
causing her to choke.

"My Andy is such a rascal! 'Mina' he says, you want yellow, by golly,
you'll get yellow!" She laughed uncommonly pleased with the whole thing
though Darien couldn't imagine a bit why.

"You'll meet Andy one of these days." Mina informed them.

"I can't wait."

Even to his own ears, Darien's voice sounded a little too acid.
Fortunately Mina didn't seem to notice.

"How long have you twos been married?"

Married?

The question hurtled itself into Darien's gut and stayed there. He'd
never thought of himself as a married man before, but then again, he
never thought he'd have a hit man chasing his very being.

Special Agent Ellison had said to play the game. The least he could do
was oblige her.

With a sleek smile and a throaty growl, he sidled up nice and close to
Serena, slipping one arm around her waist, and resting his firm hands
on her thigh.

Serena flinched. It was more of a reaction than he's ever seen even
the day before the phony FBI agent pulled a gun on them. He was
flattered. Just to hearten things a bit, he even gave it a little
squeeze, and gave Mina a wink.

"We're newlyweds, so you'd understand if we wanted to spend some time
alone."

Mina's face went as red as Serena's went white. She twittered an
answer and stepped aside to let them through.

When they got there, Serena jammed the key with force into the lock and
twisted roughly.

"Newlyweds." Along with a curse, Serena mumbled the word so that Mina
couldn't hear.

"I don't remember reading that in our dossiers."

"No." Darien agreed, his voice just as quiet. "But you have to admit,
it's a brilliant strategy. If the neighbors wonder why we're not out
as much, we can always tell them we spend most of our day in bed."

"Bed?" Serena spat bitterly as the door finally opened.

Darien smiled smugly, happy to know that after so many hours of
inconvenience, discomfort, and aggravation, it was nice to know that
his old charm could still work its magic. Even on someone such as
Special Agent Serena Ellison.

They slammed the door in Mina's wide-eyed face and Serena stomped in
ahead of Darien.

"Of all the pig-headed-"

"Good-looking?"

"Narcissistic-"

"Classy?"

"Stuffy-"


"Illustrious?"

"Egotistical-"

"Refined?"

"Self absorbed-"

"Distinguished?"

"Moronic men, I get stuck with Mr. Polish and Poise!"

"I am hurt my lady, such crude language is only fit for a man in rags-"

"Have you glanced at yourself in the mirror lately?"

"You know you want me."

"Please, if I'm going to watch over you 24/7, you'll have to cool that
self-image of yourself, because this place isn't big enough for me, you
and your big ego. So I advise, you either deflate it, or you can be
dead by the end of this summer. I mean I can always blame your ego for
your death. No charge on my part