The Seven Fiancees
Episode 2
Around the Dallas Belt Road, weaving in and out of traffic at ninety miles an hour on a chrome colored 2002 Harley VSRC, a burly looking man with two day shaving stubble and a black cowboy hat headed for his reported destination. The early day's sun hadn't even risen yet, keeping the traffic thin. The streetlights along the road cast their luminese upon his own muscled frame which complimented his hog well. His shades that he wore even at night failed to hinder his vision, shimmering with it's reflection in a way that was only matched by the badge on his right pocket...
Texas Ranger.
Diamondback snakeskin boot braced against the ground, as the driver of the awesome hog motorcycle leaned to steer off onto an exit. He barely made it through before the redlight, and pulled into the parking garage of the building he was sent to investigate. The building that was earlier yesterday attacked by three elite class hitwomen. He parked his bike, just barely past the firelane, and dropped the cigerette that was almost finished from his mouth. He flexed his hands through leather bike gloves, more to relish the feeling than anything, and walked past the few scarce police that were on the scene this early in the morning.
"So's wat's got all ya'll up in a ruckus?"
"Ranger Kris," one officer spoke up, his voice almost in awe, "Wha-why are you here?"
"Som'n gave us a call 'bout a few cute lil' Asian frails bust'n up this place. Ah had some time tah kill, thought ah'd put mah nose inta it." Kris's relaxed accent reverberated through the air with his light baratone voice, showing his utter confidence in himself, "So, whatcha got so far?"
"From descriptions, they are high class fighters. One seems to be extremely strong, one extremely good with this thin staff weapon, and the other used better kung fu than you'll see in a Let Li movie. They approached a Mister... Thomas, Justin Thomas, asking for information of some sort. Mr. Thomas would not divulge what it was, stating it was something job related."
"His business?"
"Network consultant, a very good one at that, from his credentials."
"Ah, can't say ah know too much about that, mahself..." Kris rolled up the sleeves of his dark brown flannel shirt, unbuttoned and displaying a tight cotton gray shirt that matched his stone gray stonewashed jeans, "but ah reckon ah'll go have a lil' chit-chat with ol' Mr. Thomas.."
"If you would like," the officer replied, nodding once.
"Hey, ah'm a Texas Ranger! Everyone's gotta love me!" Kris flashed a gleeming white smile.
____________________________
Scarlet, as usual, was the first to wake up, and checked the time; nine Forty-five AM. She was always the first to adjust to jetlag, and pretty much figured that her two friends and associates would be out for a while, yet. Scarlet pulled out a blood red and thin terrycloth robe, and went to the bathroom to freshen up for the day. After shower and shampooing, she added the scarlet streaks into her hair which were her trademark, and stepped back into the mainroom of the Presidential suite. She strolled to windows nearest to the bed, and decided that the two girls in the other bed had enough sleep.
She drew open the blinds, allowing the sun's natural light to filter into the baige room, causing Lavender and Chef to stir in irritation.
"Five more minutes, 'Kane-chan," Lavender mumured in Japanese, before hiding her face in the crook of Chef's neck. Scarlet had to look on the other two women with affection, the only time they ever used their old names was in private and still even more rare moments, like this. Their old names held a double edge that both cut and strengthened them. They reminded them of their old life, the one they were forced to leave behind due to various dishonors from the man they are now chasing, and they were the zenith of their intimate relationship. Three unlikeliest of friends, forced together through circumstance, and now bound to always remain together, no matter what. With a small smile, Scarlet, known in a past in what seemed a lifetime ago as Akane, allowed a small smile to creep over her face, as she sat down in a chair next to the bed, and watched her compatriots slumber the morning away.
____________________________
Mr. Thomas knew how to live. Texas Ranger Kris had to whistle at the sight of the apartment complex, he was even tipped off that some of the Dallas Cowboys resided here. He had security let him in, and went to the specified apartment. A musical knock later, and the door opened.
"Yes, may I-eep!"
"Right day, innit, Mr. Thomas?" Kris greeted, tilting his hat in a friendly gesture. Mr. Thomas was frozen, his eyes staring intensely at the silver badge on his visitor's chest.
"Ah reckon it's gonna be a scorcher today! Might I come in for a spell?" Kris blinked, and waved his hand in front of Mr. Thomas's face, "Allo? You at home?"
The balding man snapped to attention, "Ah, *cough* *cough*, I, ahem, seem to be coming down with something. Perhaps you'll visit at another time?"
Kris stiff-palmed the door, "Ah, don't you fret about me, Mr. Thomas. Ah'm tough as nails when it comes ta germs... hooo! Ah know ah'm in tha wrong biz!" The Texas Ranger observed the apartment, finding it lavishly decorated, large screen high resolution projection TV, computer apparently hooked up to it, state of the art stereo system with Bose cube speakers for the rear and side sound, and large Infinity speakers up front. He knew that was way beyond overkill, but it looked impressive, nonetheless.
"Um, can I..." Mr. Thomas cleared his throat, and started over in a lower pitch, "Are you assisting with the incident yesterday? I'm afraid I've told the police all I could."
"Ah'm pretty sure you did," Kris looked at the plush lazyboy, and then back at Mr. Thomas pleadingly. With a sigh, Mr. Thomas nodded, and then winced, as his guest literally threw himself onto the seat.
"Ah, man, ah gotta get me onna these!" Kris lounged sloppily in the chair, before jolting up, and suddenly remembering he was there on business, "Oh, where are mah manners?" He leaned over, and offered his hand, "Sherman T. Kris, Esquire."
"Um, Justin Thomas... is there something specifically you wanted to ask me about? I'm afraid I'm rather busy..." Mr. Thomas looked towards the clock, it was eleven twenty-three.
Kris made a note that he was looking at the clock, he was in a hurry, "Well, apparently those three lovely girls that dropped by for a hospitable visit, ah was kinda hop'n you can tell me a little 'bout 'em?"
"Well, they were all pretty beautiful," Mr. Thomas seemed to unfocus for a bit, Kris noted thatk the guy probably hadn't had a date in months.
"Ah reckon so! If ya could help me find 'em, ah wouldn't mind gett'n a looksie mahself. They were ask'n ya for someth'n, right?"
"Um, yes," Thomas replied, coming out of his daze, "I'm afraid it's rather delicate information for a client, I can't divulge that out without comprimising them, I apologise."
"Comon... you can tell me!" Kris leaned forward in the plush seat, "Pleeeeaaase?"
"I'm sorry. I cannot tell you that, as I take my client's right to privacy very seriously," Kris nodded, but wasn't paying attention to the words, as he was watching Mr. Thomas's eyes. The Texas Ranger noted that his host was glancing past behind him, to the table... on the corner, just in front of the laptop, there was a stack of papers on the corner of the table where he was staring...
"Oh, ah thought if ah'd ask nicely," Sherman threw his hands into the air, "Ah well." He got out of the chair, and casually walked around the sofa, seeming to observe a small bas relief sulpture over the dining room table where the laptop was sitting. He just 'happened' to pass by the corner, knocking over the thin stack of papers, "Oh! Oh man, lemme gather these up for ya!"
"NO! No, I'll get them, really!" Thomas stated in earnest, but by the time he could make it over to them, Kris had them all in hand.
"Hmm, mighty fine read'n here!" Thomas froze, staring at the Ranger who now had a serious expression on his face, "I don't suppose you can tell me how ya got this info? I reckon some of it don't belong in your hands, look'n mighty private..."
"Um..." Mr. Thomas slumped, "That's... that's what they were looking for." Before Kris could blink, his host was prostating himself before him, "Please! You don't know these women! They're evil lesbians or something! THEY WERE GOING TO WACK MY PENIS OFF WITH A STICK!!!"
Kris did well to hide the disgusted expression from his face as one word flashed in his mind, "Pathetic". Kris's light and whimsical smile graced his face again, "Ah'll tell ya what, you gett'n paid for this?" Mr. Thomas hesitantly nodded, "Then, howsabout ah play yo' delivery boy? ya wouldn't haveta see those big, bad, scary women again..."
____________________________
Twelve ten.
Okay, now Chef and Lavender were just being lazy. Scarlet sighed in slight irritation, but before she could wake them up, the phone rang, "Mosh... Hello?"
"Ah, Nihongo-o, hanamashita ka?"
Scarlet blinked, finding the accent rather peculiar, before she replied, "Yes, but if it's easier for you to speak English, I'm fluent in that, also."
"Ah, that'sa relief. Ah only took a couple 'o semasters of it to get college credits in languages along with Spanish."
"I'm afraid you may have the wrong number," Scarlet stated, "I'm sorry to have wasted your time..."
"No waste on mah part. Ah reckon if you look as pretty as you sound, ah wouldn't mind talk'n to ya in person."
Scarlet had to admit, he did sound kind of cute, "I am afraid I'm not looking, but thank you for the compliment. I will let you go so you can contact whoever it..."
"You sure ya not look'n for some fella goin' by the initials 'R.S.?"
"...."
"Hey, ya there?"
"Where are you?"
"In the lobby, nice hotel ya picked here!"
"We'll meet you downstairs in thirty minutes..." Scarlet hung up the phone with no further reply, and quickly set to waking her associates up.
Episode 2
Around the Dallas Belt Road, weaving in and out of traffic at ninety miles an hour on a chrome colored 2002 Harley VSRC, a burly looking man with two day shaving stubble and a black cowboy hat headed for his reported destination. The early day's sun hadn't even risen yet, keeping the traffic thin. The streetlights along the road cast their luminese upon his own muscled frame which complimented his hog well. His shades that he wore even at night failed to hinder his vision, shimmering with it's reflection in a way that was only matched by the badge on his right pocket...
Texas Ranger.
Diamondback snakeskin boot braced against the ground, as the driver of the awesome hog motorcycle leaned to steer off onto an exit. He barely made it through before the redlight, and pulled into the parking garage of the building he was sent to investigate. The building that was earlier yesterday attacked by three elite class hitwomen. He parked his bike, just barely past the firelane, and dropped the cigerette that was almost finished from his mouth. He flexed his hands through leather bike gloves, more to relish the feeling than anything, and walked past the few scarce police that were on the scene this early in the morning.
"So's wat's got all ya'll up in a ruckus?"
"Ranger Kris," one officer spoke up, his voice almost in awe, "Wha-why are you here?"
"Som'n gave us a call 'bout a few cute lil' Asian frails bust'n up this place. Ah had some time tah kill, thought ah'd put mah nose inta it." Kris's relaxed accent reverberated through the air with his light baratone voice, showing his utter confidence in himself, "So, whatcha got so far?"
"From descriptions, they are high class fighters. One seems to be extremely strong, one extremely good with this thin staff weapon, and the other used better kung fu than you'll see in a Let Li movie. They approached a Mister... Thomas, Justin Thomas, asking for information of some sort. Mr. Thomas would not divulge what it was, stating it was something job related."
"His business?"
"Network consultant, a very good one at that, from his credentials."
"Ah, can't say ah know too much about that, mahself..." Kris rolled up the sleeves of his dark brown flannel shirt, unbuttoned and displaying a tight cotton gray shirt that matched his stone gray stonewashed jeans, "but ah reckon ah'll go have a lil' chit-chat with ol' Mr. Thomas.."
"If you would like," the officer replied, nodding once.
"Hey, ah'm a Texas Ranger! Everyone's gotta love me!" Kris flashed a gleeming white smile.
____________________________
Scarlet, as usual, was the first to wake up, and checked the time; nine Forty-five AM. She was always the first to adjust to jetlag, and pretty much figured that her two friends and associates would be out for a while, yet. Scarlet pulled out a blood red and thin terrycloth robe, and went to the bathroom to freshen up for the day. After shower and shampooing, she added the scarlet streaks into her hair which were her trademark, and stepped back into the mainroom of the Presidential suite. She strolled to windows nearest to the bed, and decided that the two girls in the other bed had enough sleep.
She drew open the blinds, allowing the sun's natural light to filter into the baige room, causing Lavender and Chef to stir in irritation.
"Five more minutes, 'Kane-chan," Lavender mumured in Japanese, before hiding her face in the crook of Chef's neck. Scarlet had to look on the other two women with affection, the only time they ever used their old names was in private and still even more rare moments, like this. Their old names held a double edge that both cut and strengthened them. They reminded them of their old life, the one they were forced to leave behind due to various dishonors from the man they are now chasing, and they were the zenith of their intimate relationship. Three unlikeliest of friends, forced together through circumstance, and now bound to always remain together, no matter what. With a small smile, Scarlet, known in a past in what seemed a lifetime ago as Akane, allowed a small smile to creep over her face, as she sat down in a chair next to the bed, and watched her compatriots slumber the morning away.
____________________________
Mr. Thomas knew how to live. Texas Ranger Kris had to whistle at the sight of the apartment complex, he was even tipped off that some of the Dallas Cowboys resided here. He had security let him in, and went to the specified apartment. A musical knock later, and the door opened.
"Yes, may I-eep!"
"Right day, innit, Mr. Thomas?" Kris greeted, tilting his hat in a friendly gesture. Mr. Thomas was frozen, his eyes staring intensely at the silver badge on his visitor's chest.
"Ah reckon it's gonna be a scorcher today! Might I come in for a spell?" Kris blinked, and waved his hand in front of Mr. Thomas's face, "Allo? You at home?"
The balding man snapped to attention, "Ah, *cough* *cough*, I, ahem, seem to be coming down with something. Perhaps you'll visit at another time?"
Kris stiff-palmed the door, "Ah, don't you fret about me, Mr. Thomas. Ah'm tough as nails when it comes ta germs... hooo! Ah know ah'm in tha wrong biz!" The Texas Ranger observed the apartment, finding it lavishly decorated, large screen high resolution projection TV, computer apparently hooked up to it, state of the art stereo system with Bose cube speakers for the rear and side sound, and large Infinity speakers up front. He knew that was way beyond overkill, but it looked impressive, nonetheless.
"Um, can I..." Mr. Thomas cleared his throat, and started over in a lower pitch, "Are you assisting with the incident yesterday? I'm afraid I've told the police all I could."
"Ah'm pretty sure you did," Kris looked at the plush lazyboy, and then back at Mr. Thomas pleadingly. With a sigh, Mr. Thomas nodded, and then winced, as his guest literally threw himself onto the seat.
"Ah, man, ah gotta get me onna these!" Kris lounged sloppily in the chair, before jolting up, and suddenly remembering he was there on business, "Oh, where are mah manners?" He leaned over, and offered his hand, "Sherman T. Kris, Esquire."
"Um, Justin Thomas... is there something specifically you wanted to ask me about? I'm afraid I'm rather busy..." Mr. Thomas looked towards the clock, it was eleven twenty-three.
Kris made a note that he was looking at the clock, he was in a hurry, "Well, apparently those three lovely girls that dropped by for a hospitable visit, ah was kinda hop'n you can tell me a little 'bout 'em?"
"Well, they were all pretty beautiful," Mr. Thomas seemed to unfocus for a bit, Kris noted thatk the guy probably hadn't had a date in months.
"Ah reckon so! If ya could help me find 'em, ah wouldn't mind gett'n a looksie mahself. They were ask'n ya for someth'n, right?"
"Um, yes," Thomas replied, coming out of his daze, "I'm afraid it's rather delicate information for a client, I can't divulge that out without comprimising them, I apologise."
"Comon... you can tell me!" Kris leaned forward in the plush seat, "Pleeeeaaase?"
"I'm sorry. I cannot tell you that, as I take my client's right to privacy very seriously," Kris nodded, but wasn't paying attention to the words, as he was watching Mr. Thomas's eyes. The Texas Ranger noted that his host was glancing past behind him, to the table... on the corner, just in front of the laptop, there was a stack of papers on the corner of the table where he was staring...
"Oh, ah thought if ah'd ask nicely," Sherman threw his hands into the air, "Ah well." He got out of the chair, and casually walked around the sofa, seeming to observe a small bas relief sulpture over the dining room table where the laptop was sitting. He just 'happened' to pass by the corner, knocking over the thin stack of papers, "Oh! Oh man, lemme gather these up for ya!"
"NO! No, I'll get them, really!" Thomas stated in earnest, but by the time he could make it over to them, Kris had them all in hand.
"Hmm, mighty fine read'n here!" Thomas froze, staring at the Ranger who now had a serious expression on his face, "I don't suppose you can tell me how ya got this info? I reckon some of it don't belong in your hands, look'n mighty private..."
"Um..." Mr. Thomas slumped, "That's... that's what they were looking for." Before Kris could blink, his host was prostating himself before him, "Please! You don't know these women! They're evil lesbians or something! THEY WERE GOING TO WACK MY PENIS OFF WITH A STICK!!!"
Kris did well to hide the disgusted expression from his face as one word flashed in his mind, "Pathetic". Kris's light and whimsical smile graced his face again, "Ah'll tell ya what, you gett'n paid for this?" Mr. Thomas hesitantly nodded, "Then, howsabout ah play yo' delivery boy? ya wouldn't haveta see those big, bad, scary women again..."
____________________________
Twelve ten.
Okay, now Chef and Lavender were just being lazy. Scarlet sighed in slight irritation, but before she could wake them up, the phone rang, "Mosh... Hello?"
"Ah, Nihongo-o, hanamashita ka?"
Scarlet blinked, finding the accent rather peculiar, before she replied, "Yes, but if it's easier for you to speak English, I'm fluent in that, also."
"Ah, that'sa relief. Ah only took a couple 'o semasters of it to get college credits in languages along with Spanish."
"I'm afraid you may have the wrong number," Scarlet stated, "I'm sorry to have wasted your time..."
"No waste on mah part. Ah reckon if you look as pretty as you sound, ah wouldn't mind talk'n to ya in person."
Scarlet had to admit, he did sound kind of cute, "I am afraid I'm not looking, but thank you for the compliment. I will let you go so you can contact whoever it..."
"You sure ya not look'n for some fella goin' by the initials 'R.S.?"
"...."
"Hey, ya there?"
"Where are you?"
"In the lobby, nice hotel ya picked here!"
"We'll meet you downstairs in thirty minutes..." Scarlet hung up the phone with no further reply, and quickly set to waking her associates up.