File #2
The door fell open with a low creak, and light fell across the dark, dusty floor. Meia heaved a sigh – another job, another apartment, another mess, another life. She was most worried about the "another mess" part.
"Come on, Donalbain," she sighed, heaving her duffel bag in through the door. The cat, which was perched, asleep, on her shoulder, lifted his head and yawned. "Check this place out, felitty-kitty – what a dump." Everything was black, except for small squares that were a lighter black. Meia swore when she realized that they were. She dropped the duffel on the floor and trotted to the nearest one. True to her fears, they were windows, painted over with black. She swore again and crossed her arms over her chest as Donalbain carefully leapt from his perch to the windowsill. He sniffed the paint window carefully, then sneezed and jumped down.
"Exactly," agreed Meia. "Well, at least we have a project now. This job is going to keep us in the area awhile." She looked over at the felitty, who had found something much more interesting than her in one of the far corners. His pale fur stood out against the darkness like the skin of a ghost and Meia grinned at him. "Whatever it is, Donalbain, don't you dare eat it." He didn't even look up as she crossed back to the door and flipped a switch. Light flooded the room, a thick, yellow light, from the permanent fixture in the ceiling. The room proved to be a very dark royal purple, instead of the black she had originally thought, but it wasn't much of an improvement. Meia visibly gagged. "Thank god for small miracles," she muttered, pulling the duffel bag further into the room, "like company credit cards, right?" Donalbain sat back on his haunches, his ears twitching back and forth. After a moment of serious thought, he dashed across the painted wooden floor to the other, unexplored corner. Meia left the bag where it was, in the very center of the room, and went back into the hallway, returning with two suitcases and a backpack that she added to the pile. From the biggest of the suitcases she pulled out a thin black messenger bag, and, after a moment of digging, she seemed content with what it held.
"Come on, you little monster," she said to Donalbain. "Let's go find some industrial strength paint stripper, a can of cream blue paint, and possibly some big, strong dumb guy to help us." Donalbain mewed his protest, but he seemed content enough to sit on her shoulder after a moment of adjusting. Meia shut the door tightly behind her and locked it with the key that hung from a ribbon on her wrist.
Outside, away from the stale air of the old/new apartment, Meia paused to adjust her jacket and drop the key into the bag. This was a larger city than the last one she had occupied – it boasted a grand total of 750 000 people or so her research had told her. It also boasted the summer homes of several well known politicians, diplomats, senators, would-be-leaders, and soon-to-be higher ups. It also boasted all their potential mates, of the permanent, temporary, and one night-stand kind. Her presence was already inconsequential. Donalbain, on the other hand, drew more than a few glances. Felitty's, even though they were not a recent genetic breakthrough, were still rare enough that to see one on the shoulder of a roughly dressed girl coming from a rough looking apartment building. Felitty's were one of several genetically altered breeds of cat that never grew to more than six inches in length, but otherwise looked exactly like a normal cat. Donalbain was full grown, and had been for a few years, and measured roughly five inches, which was average size for his kind. He was Meia's constant companion and always with her, even when he drew attention to her, as he was now.
"Excuse me," implored Meia to an elderly gentleman who was staring quite openly at the both of them. "Can you tell me where I can find a home and garden store?" The man's eyes widened and Meia was almost sure he would just brush her off and keep walking, but instead, he pointed her in the direction of down the street and even gave her a very helpful name – "Kala Elisabeth Winner".
Meia managed to find the shop, though it was partially obscured by a larger building labeled "Home Depot". At the sight of the home and garden giant, Meia stopped, and frowned, but decided to follow the man's advice and go, instead, to "Home Economics", a grey brick building that sat in the shadow of the first one. Out front of the glass door stood a woman, idly sweeping at the dirt that gathered on the sidewalk. She smiled at Meia approached.
"Good afternoon, miss," she said cheerfully, making Meia smile.
"And to you," she answered, bowing her head. "I'm looking for a Kala Winner – would you know where she is?" At this, the other woman smiled and pulled open the door.
"I'm Kala," she answered. "Please, won't you come in?" Meia opened her mouth to say something, when a ringing interrupted her from her messenger bag. She smiled sheepishly at the blonde hair matron and reached in to draw out her white phone. It was a number she did not recognize, but, at the same time, one she had been expecting.
"Meia." It was her usual, customary greeting, one that had served her well through the years, and the voice that greeted her back was one of the same.
"I found all of that bull shit you were looking for, Maye," it said calmly. "Now will you explain to me what it's for?"
"Just wire me the documents, please," answered Meia as calmly as she could. It was a secure line, but the area around her was not. "I'll tell you later, I promise." The voice heaved a heavy sigh and Meia could almost see the speaker shaking his head in frustration.
"You disgust me, you… you," he stated grimly. "Fine, I'll wire you the damn files, but you owe me one, understand?"
"I understand, I promise," she said, before hanging up. She was not one for salutations of any kind – they were almost utterly useless. Kala Winner smiled warmly at her and Meia stepped up onto the sidewalk and into the building. "Sorry about all of that," she said calmly, as she entered into the warmth of the building. "Business and everything." Kala nodded her understanding, but seemed to have nothing to say in return. At least not to that.
"So what can I help you with?" she asked as she lead Meia past a row of hanging plants. Donalbain reached up to bat at a vine and almost lost his balance, catching himself at the last moment with his claws on her shoulder. Meia winced, but didn't draw attention to it.
"I just moved into a new apartment downtown," she answered, stopping to inspect a small potted rose bush. "And it's really a mess. In the very least, it needs a new coat of paint, but the old one will have to come off. And I need something to strip pain from window glass. And possibly someone to help me with all of this." Especially because I'll be stalking victims all day, she added to herself, shaking her head. I need a new line of work. She frowned. Well, that wasn't true. She did have a new line of work, a new mission, one almost completely separate from her work with the Hill Organization.
"Well, most kinds of paint strippers will be safe with glass," Kala answered thoughtfully, stopping at the end of the row, "so we'll be able to find you something that can do both. We have quite a few brands of paint for doing over, as well as primer and everything else. And as for the help…" She made a contemplative noise in her throat. "I think I may have someone who can help you, if you'll let him."
"Him?" inquired Meia suspiciously, glancing up. Kala turned around and nodded, grinning broadly.
"My brother, Quatre," she answered. "He's in a town for a few days, to visit me and my family. He'd love to help. Let me go get him." Kale was gone before Meia could protest, leaving the girl and her felitty in an aisle full of plants. Meia exchanged a glance with her companion and could only shrug. What could she do, tell Kala Winner know? She had, after all, requested someone to help her.
"Here we are," came Kala's cheerful voice, as she rounded a corner with a boy in tow. No, not quite a boy, but at the same time, not quite even a young man. He seemed to be right at that edge, hesitating. His hair was the same pale blonde as the shopkeeper's, and his eyes the same blue, and while there was a light of brightness in them (his eyes), as there was in hers, there was something… darker. Something hidden, some kind of shadow that obscured the light from a distance. Meia pressed her lips into a thin line – this would be an interesting project.
"Quatre, this is…" Kala trailed off uncertainly, "Meia?" she attempted. Meia gave a firm nod.
"I'm Meia. It's nice to meet you, Quatre." She held out her hand and he shook it firmly, a warm smile on his face. After the socially acceptable amount of time allotted for such a greeting, his eyes flickered down, then back up, and a chill raced down her spine. He had seen her tattoo, and it hadn't elicited the usual reaction that it usually did. In fact, he didn't seem to be curious about it at all.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Meia," he said quietly, drawing his hand away. Meia pulled hers back as well and self-consciously tugged the sleeve of her shirt down further. Kala, who seemed to have missed the exchange entirely, smiled brightly.
"There, now that we're all friends, let's find these things that you need and Quatre will help you get them home." With that said, she all but skipped off around the corner of the aisle, leaving Quatre and Meia alone. They stood there, for a moment, until Donalbain gave a plaintive mew and nudged his head against his owner's cheek. Quatre's eyes went to the felitty and he smiled.
"You have a very cute felitty," he said, almost idly. Meia shrugged, carefully, so as not to spill her little friend.
"He was a present," she answered, reaching up and taking Donalbain off of her shoulder so that she could cradle him against her chest. "His name is Donalbain."
"As in Donalbain, the son of King Duncan?" inquired the blonde boy, slightly surprised. "I didn't realize anyone still read Shakespeare."
"I love Shakespeare," Meia shot back, defensive because her intelligence had just been challenged. "I have hard copies of all of his plays, and the sonnets." Donalbain gave a grumble as she held him tighter, and she loosened her grip slightly. "I also have a disk on me with all of his work." Quatre nodded and his grin became less warm, but somehow more friendly.
"I've loved Shakespeare since I was little," he said, taking a step forward. "My sisters used to read it to me all the time. My favorite play is Midsummer Night's Dream." Meia's jaw dropped – this… this little strangling read Shakespeare?
"That's my favorite too!" she said excitedly, settling Donalbain back onto her shoulder. "I especially love the part where-"
"Meia, how in the world can he help you paint your apartment if you won't even come pick out a color?" Meia jumped as Kala rounded the corner behind her and Donalbain slid from her shoulder with a yowl of indignation. Quatre lunged forward and caught the felitty before it hit the floor, ending up on one knee of the unfinished cement. Meia snatched the felitty from his hands when he offered it up to her and kissed the furry head with a relieved sigh.
"You have a claws for a reason, dumb kitty," she said sharply, placing it back on her shoulder. She nodded her thanks to Quatre. "He's too small to have survived that fall, so… thank you." All Quatre did was nod in return. Before anyone could say anything else, there came another ringing from the depths of Meia's messenger bag. She reached into it and pulled out her white phone – the number was, again, one she did not recognize. She was becoming quite popular with random people today.
"Meia," she greeted, in a calm voice. There was a momentary pause, then,
"Meia, this is the Preventers. What do you have for us?" Ah, the other phone call she had been expecting. This was fine timing, as well – okay, not really, but it was temporarily getting her out of an uncomfortable situation.
"Do you have a vidphone I may use?" Meia asked Kala, removing the phone from her ear and covering the mouthpiece with her hand. Kala nodded and motioned for the younger woman to follow her. She lead Meia around to the front of the store, than to a door that was behind the counter. In the back, on the edge of a dusty work bench, sat an older style vidphone that was, thankfully, equipped with a converter for hand held phones. Kala even had the courtesy to leave her alone.
"People are far too trusting," commented Meia to herself as she set her cell phone into the converter. The machine turned itself on after that and the screen faded from a silent grey to the picture of a slightly anxious looking blonde woman. Meia gave a nod of her head.
"Good afternoon, Preventers," she said formally. "Who am I speaking to?"