• "Hey, Rachel!" Amanda cried over the din of RDDF Headquarters. A blonde woman roughly the age of 23 turned to face the girl. Rachel's green eyes brightened at the sight of her young friend.
    "Hey, Kid!" she shouted back. Amanda ran towards her.
    Rachel was the first woman in RDDF history to reach the status of Captain, as well as the youngest. Jahn would have beaten her record, had he not been booted from the force.
    Amanda caught up with the woman and the two walked together. They had become friends almost as soon as Amanda had joined at the age of thirteen. This is probably because they were the only two females on the force. Amanda looked up to Rachel, both figuratively and literally, as Rachel was almost a full 6 inces taller than Amanda.
    "How's Jahn?" Rachel asked.
    "Sulking," Amanda replied. "He's really mad about being kicked."
    "Understandable."
    Instead of being the youngest captain ever, Jahn was now the youngest person to be dropped from the police force. It was not a good record to hold.
    Amanda just nodded, and the two girls walked along side of each other. There really wasn't much else that needed to be said.
    "How are you, though?" inquired Rachel. Amanda stopped walking. She was smiling as she answered, "Fine." Amanda continued walking, leaving Rachel behind this time. RAchel respected the younger girl. In fact, she actually looked up to her, figuratively, of course. Amanda was much stronger than her just less than 5 and a half foot tall stature suggested. Rachel wondered how, even in her and Jahn's struggles, the girl could look as though she had never had a happier day in her life.
    I know you, Amanda, The green-eyed woman thought. It was a bold-faced lie, but anyone else would've been fooled.
    Rachel changed out of her police uniform in the women's locker room, which was only ever occupied by herself and Amanda. For no apparent reason, she left the badge clipped onto her wrist. After she finished changing into her civilian clothes, Rachel began to walk home. She didn't live very far away, just a few blocks, and she didn't even own a car, so she always walked.
    On her way home every day, Rachel passed a ring store. It had never seemed very important, but today, it was possibly the most important place she could be. The woman walked inside before she could give it another thought.
    A bell rang as the door opened. Rachel looked around to see the ring on the pedestal as usual. That ring had been there for years. However, instead of the Normal man who owned the shop, there was a young red-haired boy behind the counter.
    Rachel looked into the boy's eyes. They were green, like her own, but with a deepness she could barely fathom. There were emotions showing in this boy's eyes that she didn't know existed, and should definitely not be in the eyes of someone as young as him. She looked away.
    "Can I help you?" the boy asked. Rachel met his eyes again. His voice sounded familiar, but so foreign to her. She was trying to solve the complex puzzle that was this stranger when she was interrupted by him asking the question again.
    "I said, can I help you?"
    "Where is the shop owner?" Rachel demanded more than asked. "And who are you?"
    "The name's Thomas. Ishmael's in the back," replied the boy. "I got a job here a few days ago."
    "Let me in there," The woman said. "I need to speak with him."
    Thomas stepped in front of the back door when Rachel tried to advance. He told her that it was against company policy to let customers in the back.
    Rachel flashed the badge on her wrist, expecting immediate cooperation. However, Thomas didn't know what the badge meant. He didn't step out of the way. This was a problem for him, because at that moment, The back door swung open and left him a nice bruise on his face.
    "Ah be right here!" Ishmael called from the doorway, completely unaware of his now injured employee. "Whaddya want?" Upon seeing Rachel, he nearly fainted.
    "I-I mean,"he stuttered, "Welcome, lass! If there be anythin' ye be needin' at all, jest tell me."
    Rachel cocked an eyebrow and looked at Thomas, who shrugged and continued to rub his bruised eye. She took Ishmael by the collar and pressed him against the wall.
    "Cut the pirate crap, old man," Rachel commanded. "I need a favor."
    "Aye? What kind o' favor?" asked the old man. THomas just looked on with his uninjured eye and hung on to every word the two said.

    To be continued