1Disclaimer: I'm basically just using the names, here, but...
Roses are red, violets are blue. Me no own, so you no sue!
Thanks to everyone who survived the hurricane of chapter one. Here's chapter two. (Wow. I didn't actually think I'd get this far. But it's amazing what you'll do when you're bored. ) Anyway, if you DO actually give a crap about this story, just send that in a review or an email or whatever, and I'll see what I can come up with.
TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT ME! (Muahahah)
Thanks,
Goslin
Chapter Two: Partner (prt. II)
Sandiego awoke groggily the next morning. He'd been thinking about the 'proposition' all night, getting little adrenoline rushes when he got too excited. But he'd worried more than anything. Who was offering him this great job? Why did they want him?
Maybe the man had said something about it last night, but all Sandiego heard was the large sum of money they offered. If he ever wanted to be DOCTOR Sandiego, he'd better come up with the money for his education. He had a job, but it didn't pay what he wanted it to (not that anything ever did), and it worked him long hours. Long hours he could be spending working on his master's thesis.
Sandiego had turned twenty and hit the ground running. He had gotten married right out of high school, and begun college a year late to be with his family. Both he and his wife, Margaret, had wanted children, but it hadn't happened. Margaret was an impatient, demanding woman, and Sandiego had felt he could no longer comply with her needs.
They had decided that it couldn't work, and Sandiego had been heartbroken by the truth in that. He had never really wanted a family, but when the opportunity had presented itself, there was something oddly comforting in the idea. He had loved Margaret, and still did. He was never angry with her. Never. Not even when she had said she wanted a divorce. Sandiego had just nodded slowly and said "Well, maybe it's better that way..."
The divorce had become official, and they were once again single by the time they were twenty-three. Three months later, Sandiego had received a frantic message from Margaret, where she yelled about being pregnant and how life in general was all his fault...etc. Sandiego had come over to see her that night, and she admitted to his face, almost proudly, that she was not pregnant, that she merely wanted to see him again, and knew there was no other way.
This was, however, complete bullshit, and Sandiego had been dreaming of the day he would talk to her again. But this was the old saying: Absence makes the mind grow fonder...
To the dismay of all parental units involved to any extent, they began dating again. Margaret had softened, and Sandiego had become stronger. They were having the romance they'd always wanted, and they took pride in the fact that they made unhappy married couples jealous of their perfect affair.
It seemed, for a time, almost perfect.
And then they had what they now refer to as 'the' argument. Margaret had started college, and the new stress had made her more irritable. She had called him many times at odd hours to bitch about this, that , or the other. Sandiego had told himself that he was lucky Margaret put so much trust in him. One night, Margaret asked what they'd both been tenetive about for the last few years; Willing to try again? Sandiego had immediatly said no, that that would not bring either of them happiness now; that they needed to wait until they were both out of school. Margaret had seemed to calm down, saying he was right, and then turned right around and threw a lamp at him. Sandiego had dodged the lamp, but her hateful words had nearly broken him. Sandiego had not counted all the things they threw at each other, but he was sure that not all the furniture had made it out of the argument alive.
She had actually broken his leg.
Well, that had been the end of their relationship in any, way, shape, or form, until yesterday.
Sandiego took a look in the mirror and was surprised by what he saw; a 25 year old man with soft, dark brown hair that was short but almost in a girl's fashion. He had large, hazel eyes that seemed to sparkle like a kid's when he smiled. He had soft, almost feminine features on his face. His nose went slightly skyward, but he was still handsome.
He was extremely tall and extremely thin, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. He had long legs and small feet. But his hands were what Margaret had always like ab out him. His hands were thin, like his body, with long, slender, delicate fingers. He never used to cut his nails, and Margaret would make fun of him for it.
Sandiego sighed. He didn't want to think about her right now.
Jeanitia
The little three year old girl stared in wonder out the window of the jet plane that would take her home to Jamaica. There were men in orange vests out there, and big cars! Wow! Jeanitia had always wanted to drive a car. Daddy had said she was too little.
'Daddy' was, and had been for almost a year now, Sandiego. It hurt her to have him say 'stop that!' whenever she called him his rightful name. He hadn't had the heart, however, to scold her when she said 'Goodbye, daddy!' and left on the jet plane.
No one knew how Jeanitia had wound up in the United States. Her mother had probably come here illegally and abandoned her. She had practically been on Sandiego's doorstep. He had tended her for a few days, instead of taking her to the police. She didn't want to go with the "Scary blue people!" So Sandiego had let it slide for almost a month. That was when Margaret found out, and called the police herself, accusing him of more than just 'withholding information from authority'...
Of coarse, her charges were all proved false, and Sandiego got off scott-free. He had even requested permission to keep the little bugger, but the US government is the damndest thing. They were holding her temporarily in an orphanage in San Diego. And every week, Sandiego the man would drive from his home in Los Angeles to visit her. She lived for those days, it seems. It also seemed that she was very intelligent, and had a teenage vocabulary by her second year alive! Over the month, she and Sandiego had grown closer and closer. But the FBI had been doing some research on her, and easily located her remaining family in Jamaica. The family claimed to know nothing about the whereabouts of the girl's mother, but said that they wished they could have Jeanitia back.
After deeming the family authentic and trustworthy, we find Jeanitia on a plane headed back to her family. A family she didn't even remember.
Carmen
The room, Carmen had long ago decided, smelled like honey pretzels. The room was her office. Always made her hungry before it was time to eat lunch... Oh, well. She must be the only 17 year old girl in the world to have an office all to herself.
That made her smile.
The desk was cluttered, but what did you expect when you give a teenager an office? Of coarse, she sighed, it was all confidential. She rolled her eyes. Wouldn't want the world to know that 'kids' were capable of running the it, now would you?
Carmen took a tenative step foward, toward her desk.
OUCH, Goddammit! That hurts like a mo$#&8#$!!
Carmen reached into the corner grudgingly to grab the crutches. She hated the things; so limiting. Her right leg was badly broken and now in a cast. She had managed to give herself a minor concussion, but the worst thing was her back. They had some sort of restraining thing on her spine, and it hurt like hell. Naturally, this had to be the day they wanted to introduce her to her new partner.
Apparently, a half-burnt wooden podium had fallen on her back in the pool, and she had almost drowned. No one would tell her how she had gotten out alive. More 'confidential' bullshit. 'At least I'm alive' is not something that Carmen thinks.
The wounded teenager still had an hour before she met her partner candidate at the Chicago Café, and she decided to get some work done. She placed a crutch under each arm and managed to maneuver to the desk. Good!
Now, how in the hell do I sit down?
The Chicago Café
Sandiego had a tough time finding the Café, but the magic moment did arrive, and he took a good look at the place; trying to make a small term decision that might effect a long term decision. To take the job or leave the job?
The café was run–down, but somehow homey. Sandiego felt nervous about the whole thing, but that was normal. He could be a nervous guy. It's part of what made him different from Margaret, thought Sandiego. Margaret was never nervous.
But that wasn't important now.
Sandiego looked around the café for his lady. Let's see... she's short, brown hair, wearing red. Got it. But, he was thinking, how did they know what she was wearing? I mean, that's kind of weird, right?
Sandiego chuckled and parallel parked near the café. He was thinking how he had just been recruited by the 'Goddamn CIA'.
Woah! Watch it, you damn horrible driver!
Sandiego had nearly smashed into the car behind him as his chuckle had become laughter.
Sandiego managed to park the car without any more mishaps, and got out in search of his lady in scarlet.
Then he saw her. She was the perfect image of 5'5" with brown eyes. She was short/stockily built with large brown eyes and intense features. Her thin lips were curved downward in discomfort of the heat of the afternoon.
But, most importantly, she was dressed completely, from head to foot, in a deep red.
