The Renegade Chemist

Chapter H - The Starting Element

"You know what I still can't believe? That you are still working in this profession!" Layne Frost was rambling.

She was a fair-skinned, twenty-four year old with emerald eyes, that seemed to inherit the properties of the precious stone itself, and flowing blond hair, which could easily be mistaken for the finest of golden silk. Her tall demeanor fit her lean body perfectly, if not more than that.

"Layne, we have been over this conversation for as long as I joined this job. And my reply hasn't changed. I - do - not - have - a - choice!" said Raiden. "Yeah... Five master degrees and a PhD at the age of twenty six and you don't have a choice," she muttered, her eyes performing a 360° rotation. For the number of times she did that, she may as well have joined a circus named "Eyes is cold".

They were both lawyers but perhaps the only ones that had actually studied law. The other lawyers? Oh, they simply took up the job for the namesake reputation of having a job. Just like every other namesakeful thing in Klobgy.

"Layne, I am pretty sure I would be a reputed scientist by now if that position was not taken by 'em jobless croonies!" Raiden complained. A little too loudly. Death to the howler monkey.

"Hey, cut it down...someone might hear you. Not every person here is good like me," Layne said as soft as a chinchilla's fur but as stern as  a wooden ruler. Wooden rulers are stern- they are used by teachers for whacking all the time!

"Yeah. Then I am gonna need a lawyer."

The irony behind Raiden's words was enough to break the grave atmosphere and pull the heightened spirits of laughter from both of them.

Just then, a roadrunner burst into the room, strangely shouting in English " We got a win! We got a win!". Oh that's because it wasn't a roadrunner. It was their social worker, who helped Raiden and Layne get clients. She was comparable to the hinges of a door, if Raiden and  Layne were the supposed door.

Claire had the stature and finesse of a Vanity model. Her blue eyes sparkled in the dullest of light, her teeth could probably serve the purpose of a torch. Her hair resembled a consuming fire; bright and orange. With all this, it would not be surprising that Raiden harboured a secret crush on her. For all you know, she was slim with curves in the right places.

For the news which the road runner came shouting, oops I mean Claire, only Layne seemed to react. (To be specific, with a concerned "What?") Yet, Raiden stood with his lips glued, eyes attracted by an unseen force to Claire. "There is nothing sexier than a running hottie," he commented to Layne, still caught in his daze, after a while. Upon a sharp nudge from Layne, he finally came back to his senses; "Yeah, what's up?!" He asked stupidly.

"We got a request from Mr. Gongard!" Claire replied enthusiastically, oblivious to anything else but hell bent on getting the news across indeed.

"Mr. Gongard? The guy who recently ended on Klobgy's top ten mafia list?" Raiden's tone had suddenly elevated from casual to serious and Layne had to grip his arm, in an attempt to calm him. She had seen him angry before. And it was NOT a good sight. "What is this about?" She asked. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" Claire replied, grinning like a four year old with a candy.

"YOU BROUGHT HIM HERE?!"

Crush or not, work policies came first, as per Raiden at least. Layne's grip on his arm tightened, perhaps imprinting a rubicund mark into it to be seen later. But this time, even she chimed in. "Claire!" It was a mandatory measure not to let visitors enter law offices easily. Again-something namesake in most offices as the law makers themselves broke it.

"It was a great case!" Claire retorted, still zealous. She then leaned in and whispered, "in fact, he is paying us four grand just for the appointment!". While Layne's expression on hearing the news expressed surprise, Raiden scowled in disgust.