Another Place, Another Time
Author: sailorknight
Rated: PG13
This story is currently untitled, but rated PG-13 for strong language(read: swearing and shit like that).
It's now official. Jason C. Ulloa, better known among the denizens of AI(that would be you) as SK, is going to be working
on a brand new Serena/Darien story!
You must be thinking that I'm completely nuts to start working on another story while working on four others, right? Well,
the truth is, that I'm not going to be working on it right away. This is only the teaser, written out so I would have some-
thing to work with when I start writing this story out.
So, when am I going to start it? The moment I'm finished with both A Grail?!? and Seeing Stars. It'll be a while, but at
least it'll cut down on the time it takes for me to update the story. Better to compete with two stories rather than four,
don't you think?
Now that I've got that out of the way, let me tell you a little about this story. It's going to be set in the early 20th
century(decade unsure yet; need to do more research) in San Fransico. Serena Tsukino is a third-generation Japanese-
American running her own detective agency. Her junior partner, Ryoku Anderson - a half-blooded Japanese-American married
to Serena's secretary, Amy - works mainly as her eyes-and-ears in places like Chinatown, where her blonde hair and blue
eyes would completely stand out, and as an intimidation method whenever she needs some... persuading done.
The story begins when Darien Shields, the owner of a highly successful night club, the Silver Moon, hires Serena to locate
his star singer, Raye Hino, who has been missing for the past two days. Even though there is no evidence, Darien believes
that she has been kidnapped, especially since a certain gangster boss has been trying to buy Darien's club from him....
Here's a bit of a preview for Chapter 1.
There will more than likely be a few changes between this and the actual story.
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Another Time, Another Place - Teaser
(Title tentative - will more than likely change)
Excerpt from Chapter 1
I hate this fucking office. It's too small, too crowded, and too damn hot! I swear, if that damn fan breaks down one more
time I'm either gonna shoot it, or have Ryoku beat it to death with that stick of his. That's the last time I buy a cheap
five-dollar fan. It's over 90 degrees outside! In the shade! It's too damn hot for our one source of relief from the scor-
ching heat to die on us. Again.
That's it. Next time, I'll have Amy by us our fan. She's better with money than I am, anyway. Though how she manages to
keep the budget for both herself and her husband on what I'm able to pay them, I'll never know. Maybe Ryoku's moonlighting
down at Wong's Laundry or something....
Yeah, right. He'd never do anything like that. He's too damn noble to do anything like moonlighting. Look at him. How can
he just sit there, ignoring the heat?!? I mean, sure the Japanese are supposed to take everything stoically and avoid mak-
ing a spectacle of themselves, but that's just ridiculous. He's half-American, too, dammit! He should act like one!
"Serena-san, why are you staring at me like that? Did I do something wrong again?"
"Sorry, Ryoku," I said with a heavy sigh. "Didn't mean to."
"Oh." He went back to just sitting there stoically again.
Damn, I didn't mean to glare at him like that. I swear this heat is making me crazy. I hate summer. Why couldn't it be Sep-
tember instead of July? It's cooler then. Besides, living here in San Franciso tends to make the summers muggy as well as
unbarably hot.
"It's too fucking hot," I grumbled as I laid my head down on my desk. I had already finished my last case a couple of weeks
ago, so I have absolutely nothing to do. Which makes things that much worse. God, I hate it when business is slow.
"Un," my junior partner stoically grunted, his elbows planted on his own desk and his hands folded in front of his face so
as to cover most of it. Only his eyes were visible. If someone were to come into the office and see him staring at them
like that, they would more than likely feel like he was staring into their very soul. Oh, he was very good at intimidating
people, even if he wasn't as tall as most Americans. His 5'7" stature was a well-defined one and he knew how to make people
feel like he was staring down at them. Very useful.
"Where's Amy, anyway?" I asked, just for something to break the monotony. "She said there was something she had to take
care of today, but she neglected to tell me what it was."
"Amy-san said told me that she had just learned that her father had come back again."
"Oh." Amy never liked to talk about her father. From what she did know, the man did a lot of traveling, especially when
Amy was growing up, so she didn't really know him that well. Every time she found out that he was back in San Francisco,
she would all but drop everything to go see him. Sometimes she came back happy, sometimes she came back angrier than if
she were on her period.
"Why did you ask, Serena-san?"
"Just trying to make conversation, though I wish you'd stop calling me 'Serena-san'," I told him as I sat up and shrugged.
He looked up from his favorite 'brooding' position and smirked at me. "Would you rather I call you 'Serena-senpai' again?
Or maybe 'Tsukino-senpai'?"
I blanched. "Hell, no! Can't you at least call me 'Serena'?"
He grimaced at the suggestion. "Don't you remember what I said about that?"
I sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Too intimate, yadda yadda. Well, I guess since you're not even that intimate with your wife-" He
cut me off with a look, but with him, that was all he needed. "Sorry," I apologized again. "I know that's a sensitive sub-
ject with you. I didn't mean to bring that up."
He nodded, although his expression still looked as if I had slapped him full-force across his face after insulting his
mother... and his father... and the rest of his lineage. Shit! I didn't mean to make the poor guy feel bad. It's not my
fault that his wife treats him as just a friend and not as a wife. It was an arranged marriage, after all. Did he think
that she would fall madly in love with him on first sight? Things like that don't just happen.
At least, so I thought until the most handsome man I had ever met in my entire 26 years of living walked into my office...
and asked me if he could use my restroom.
Ah, romance.
After he had finished taking care of business, he returned to my office looking both relieved and anixous. I could guess
why he felt relieved, but it was the anxiety that had my attention. Well, that and his beautiful blue eyes. It wasn't com-
mon to find someone with blue eyes and black hair. Usually, it was blue and blonde, or dark brown and black, or some more
common combination. Oh, and I surely can't leave out his nicely muscled body and his firm backside. Good God, what an ass!
...um, what was I thinking about again?
"Excuse me, Miss... Tus... Suk... um...."
"Tsukino." I get that all the time. Geez, you'd think I wrote my name in Chinese for all the stumbling people go through
just to attempt to pronounce my name. Maybe I should just change my last name to Jones, or something. Do us all a favor.
"You seem a little... distracted," the man ventured while trying to hide a smile. He probably already knew he was handsome
enough to drive women to distraction. The bastard. Oh, but what a sexy bastard, he is.
"I'm fine," I replied coolly, mentally thanking Ryoku for all those lessons on how to control your emotions. Very useful
in situations like this. Makes me wonder if there's something more to that... Bushido? Kendo? Whatever-do than he's let-
ting on. I'll have to ask him later.
"Anyway, what can I do for you, Mr...?"
"Shields. Darien Shields."
"The owner of The Silver Moon, right?" Ryoku asked, already knowing the answer. The guy was well-known for turning his
club from the run-down dump he had bought only a year ago into one of the hottest spots in all of San Francisco.
"The same," he replied with a nod to my junior partner.
"So, what's the problem?" I asked.
"I need you to find someone for me."
"Who?" I asked, easing back in my chair.
"Raye Hino," he said seriously as he leaned forward while resting his right arm on my desk. "Do you know who she is?"
I nodded, then turned to Ryoku. "Give him the rundown."
He nodded and fixed an intent look on Darien. "Raye Hino. Age: 25. Born: April 17, 1918[1]. Birthplace: Chinatown, San
Fransico, California. Father: Jirou Hino, 57. Mother: Chitsuko Hino, 56. Hair: Black. Eyes: Violet. Occupation: Singer at
The Silver Moon, employed by one Darien Shields, owner of The Silver Moon."
"That's enough, Ryoku," I told him, then turned to my potential customer. "Well? Is that accurate enough for you?"
He nodded quietly, stunned almost to the point where his jaw was just barely about to leave its comfortable position and
take up residence on my office floor. I just love doing that to people. But how he manages to retain all that information
is a mystery to me. One of these days, I'm gonna have to ask him. I'm building up quite a list of stuff that I need to ask
him about. Is it just me, or does that guy just love being mysterious?
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," I said with just the tiniest hint of smugness in my voice. Hah! That'll teach you to muddle
with my head, pretty-boy. "Anyway, why do you need us to find Ms. Hino?"
Darien's expression resumed the grave, anxious look he had when he first entered my office. "You see, I haven't heard from
Raye in almost two days. She hasn't shown up to work, nor has she been seen in any of her usual haunts. I've even asked
some of her friends, but they haven't seen her, either.
"I suspect that she's been kidnapped, and I want you to find out by who and where she is. If you can bring her back safely,
I'll be willing to pay you triple your fee."
My eyes couldn't help but widen slightly at that. Triple?!? Now THAT would certainly be useful. It would definitely be eno-
ugh to buy a better air conditioning system for the office. I couldn't help but notice Ryoku's sudden start at the offer.
Hah! So, the stoic little samurai-boy can be surprised, too. Things were certainly looking up.
"Why do you think that she's been kidnapped, Mr. Shields?"
"Darien."
I blinked. "Huh?"
"Call me Darien," he said, smiling. Such a beautiful smile.
"Ahem."
I glared over at my throat-clearing junior partner for a second, then turned back to Darien. "So, why do you think that
Raye Hino was kidnapped, Darien? Why not go to the police?"
"I know you've heard of 'Six' MacMullen, right?"
"Yeah," I replied, nodding. Might as well show him that I know my stuff as well. "Sal 'Six' MacMullen. Gang boss famous for
wielding a pair of old, yet well cared for, Smith and Wesson Model 3 American calvary six-shooters that he claims date back
to 1870 during the post-Civil War era. Since each gun holds only six rounds, his shots are, more often then not, deadly acc-
urate. He operates down near the bay, last I heard. Deals mostly with racketeering, but has run some gambling joints from a
few of the warehouses down at the docks. Arsons, grand larceny, money laundering, prostitution rings, he's pretty much got
his hands in a good deal of the action. What about him?"
"He's trying to buy out The Silver Moon."
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[1] The year will change depending on what decade I decide to place this story. Any suggestions?
Disclaimer: All original materials belong to their respective owners. Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi and a bunch
of big companies. No copyright infringement is intended.
Questions? Comments? Anything?
Email: Anonymous Reader:Censored Email Address or Anonymous Reader:Censored Email Address
Copyright© 2003 Jason C. Ulloa
All Rights Reserved.