Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ UnderCover - The Origin ❯ 1995: Clare ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Disclaimer: No disclaimer - these are my characters and my story! I'm hoping it's completely original (I haven't read or seen anything like it yet, so fingers crossed I'm not encroaching on anything!). If I do mention anything copyrighted, you'll recognise it because hey, it won't be something I made up! This story (and the following chapters) are going to follow Clare and her friends (who get introduced in a chapter a piece) from age eight up to adulthood. I just have to get off my lazy butt and type them all up! That's all! Read on!



Part 001

1995: Clare

The small girl stood alone in the huge marble entryway, engulfed by large pillars on either side. The elastic strap sewn to her hat was starting to scratch her beneath her chin, and she absently reached up to adjust it. Her toes were also starting to hurt within her new shoes, but she knew that it would be rude to remove them, especially in a stranger's house. Instead, she squirmed silently, trying to flex her toes within the shiny black leather. Loud, echoing footsteps could be heard approaching from an adjacent corridor, and the girl craned her neck to see who it was. She had been told not to move from that spot, but if she leaned over a little more she'd be able to...

"Ahhh!"

The shiny soles of her new shoes slid out from beneath her, and the girl landed with a hard thump on the marble floor. Tears sprang to her eyes, and the corners of her mouth started to turn down. The approaching footsteps started to speed up, quickly going from a walk to a run.

"Miss Clare? Miss Clare, are you all right?"

The tall, silver-haired man was a stranger. Today, everybody had been a stranger. And all of the stranger's had looked at her so sadly. They'd patted her on the head, hugged her, and told her how sorry they were. They had brought cards, and photographs, and food to her house. They had stood in corners and talked quietly amongst themselves until they had seen her approaching, then they had all looked away from her, uncomfortable in her presence. But not one of them had answered her question. This stranger looked kind, though. Kind and smart, and a bit like her dad.

Maybe he'll know, Clare thought, rubbing the tears of pain from her eyes. Maybe this stranger will answer my question.

"I'm ok, Mister. I just fell is all."

She pulled herself back up, and dusted the front of her new skirt off. Then she noticed the large scuff mark marring the left toe of her new shoe. The stranger saw where she was looking, and chuckled, tapping her on the top of her hat.

"It's all right. There are plenty of other shoes in the world, but only one Miss Clare. As long as you're fine, it's fine."

Clare mulled over this thought, while still staring at her shoes, then looked up puzzled at the man. He smiled and checked his pocket watch.

"It's time we were going, Miss Clare. Please follow me."

Before the man could start walking away, Clare reached out and caught his sleeve between her thumb and fingers. The man stopped, startled, and looked down at the small girl with a questioning glance.

"What's the matter, Miss Clare?"

The petite eight year old gazed up at him, her piercing green eyes filled with the one question she had been burning with all day.

"Mister, where are my Mum and Dad? I looked for them all day, but I couldn't see them anywhere. All their friends were there, but I think they were looking for them too. They looked kinda sad too - everyone likes my Mum and Dad's parties. I thought maybe you'd know, because you've been looking after me all day."

The man sighed deeply and dropped to one knee, so he could look Clare directly in the eye. Before he could begin to answer, Clare asked her final question.

"Also, Mister - what's a funeral?"

The stranger's eyes widened in sad shock, and he bowed his head away from her gaze. Clare stepped forward and patted the stranger on the head, mirroring what he'd done to make her feel better earlier.

"Mister? Mister? Are you OK? Please Mister, say you're OK?"

The stranger raised his red-rimmed eyes once more, and managed a strained smile.

"I'm fine, Miss Clare. Now there's something very serious you and I need to talk about. If you'll follow me please?"

Clare reached out and took the stranger's offered hand.

"Will you answer my question?"

The stranger closed his fingers around her's lightly and led her down the marble corridor.

"Of course, Miss Clare"

Clare took a few steps, then stopped short, dropping the stranger's hand. He looked back at her, and saw that she was blushing furiously.

"Miss Clare? Is something wrong? Do you need the bathroom, maybe?"

Clare shook her head but continued to blush as her hands fisted by her sides in embarrassment.

"Forgive me, Mister, I've been terribly rude. You've brought me to your house, looked after me all day, kept making sure I was OK and I haven't said thank you once. So, THANK YOU!"

Clare almost bellowed the last two words. The man smiled, and bowed slightly towards her.

"You're very welcome, Miss Clare."

Clare smiled, relieved, the remembered something else she'd been meaning to ask.

"Also, what's your name, Mister. I feel kinda silly just calling you 'Mister' all the time. My name is Clare Amelia Montmorency."

She thrust her hand out in front of her, ready to shake. The man hesitated, then reached his hand out towards the girl.

"My name is Charles William Abbott. I was a close work associate of your father's, and good friend to both of your parents. I will miss them dearly."

The tall man and the child shook hands, the began heading down the corridor once more.

"It's OK, Mr Charles. Mum and Dad will be back soon. You won't have to miss them for too long."

Mr Abbott didn't answer.

****************************************

The sun poured through Clare's bedroom window, shining directly onto her face as it drenched her pillow in it's warm rays. The pillow was still slightly damp with tears from the previous night. Mr Charles had explained what a funeral was first. Then he had explained what had happened to her parents.

"Oh, wait. His name isn't Mr Charles. It's Mr Abbott. I have to think harder before I talk to him. After all, he did answer my question."

Clare's normally bright eyes were dull and red-rimmed this morning, and the sunlight wasn't helping. Hugging her pillow to her chest, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and stepped down... into thin air.

"Waaah!"

She landed hard on the floor again, but luckily this time there was a thick, shaggy rug to break her fall. She ran her fingers through the rug, watching as the long fibres caught between her fingers eventually bent to flat beneath her hand.

This looks like my rug from home, Clare thought, then paused as she recognised a familiar green stain on the top left hand corner.

"Ah. It is my rug from home. And the closet is full of my clothes. And the toy chest is full of my toys. This place is now my 'home'."

She slipped her feet into her slippers

My slippers

and walked out of the bedroom, still clutching the pillow

My pillow

to her chest, as she went out in search of breakfast. There were people in the corridor she didn't recognise

Strangers

so as they greeted her, she looked away. The strangers didn't seem to notice her coldness. They just looked at her sympathetically and kept about their daily business. Clare continued to shuffle down the carpeted hallway to where she heard familiar kitchen sounds. At the end of the hall, a door hung half open. She pushed it open completely and peered inside. The young woman standing behind the kitchen counter stared at her, stunned, then quickly smiled.

"Ah! You must be Miss Clare! Good Morning! Did you sleep well?"

Clare gazed at the girl with dull eyes, then looked at the food she was preparing. Bacon. Toast. Boiled eggs. All her favourites.

This is not my kitchen.

She turned back around, and started to walk back up the hallway, but the young woman started after her, taking hold of her arm.

"Hey there... Are you OK?"

Clare gazed up blankly into the woman's face.

"This is not... it's not... "

She jerked her arm free, and ran back down the corridor, clutching the pillow

My pillow

to her chest. All of the closed doors in the hallway looked the same.

"Which room... Which room is mine?"

Clare tried four doors before she found the room that they had furnished with her things. She looked around the unfamiliar room, trying desperately to superimpose the image of her proper bedroom over it. This new room was entirely the wrong shape. She closed her eyes and fell to her knees on the rug, hugging the pillow.

This is not my room.

Behind her, there was a quiet knock at the door, and the woman from the kitchen entered.

"Hello again. We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Lena Peters. I'm going to be the one looking after you from now on. I mean, if that's ok with you?"

Clare refused to raise her head from the pillow, so when she spoke her voice was muffled.

"What does that mean?"

Lena scratched her short black hair, looking confused.

"I'm not sure what you're asking there, Clare. I'll be looking after you, you know, feeding you, getting you new clothes, making sure you're clean, and up for school on time. You know, Mum-stuff!"

Clare jerked her face out of the pillow, and glared at this strange new intruder.

"My mother is dead! Mr Charles said so! My father is too!"

Lena clasped her hands in front of her, starting to panic.

"I know! That's why I'm here to look after you!"

Clare's knuckles turned white, as she dug her nails into the pillow.

"Did Mr Charles say you had to look after me?"

Lena opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Looking into the eyes of this newly orphaned eight year old girl was completely terrifying. She bowed her head forward and slowly nodded in response. The girl turned her head away to face the wall, and mumbled something too softly for Lena to hear. Lena moved into the room, unconsciously reaching out towards the small girl's shuddering back. As her fingers made contact, the child stiffened and sat up, angry tears rolling down her face.

"Don't touch me!"

Clare's shriek was so loud and so close that Lena fell backwards, landing hard on the floor, her eyes widening in shock. Clare stood up, still clutching the pillow that smelled slightly of home, and mother and father. She turned and walked to the window, gazing out over the unfamiliar landscape.

"I don't need you."

Lena's eyes filled with tears. She remembered using these exact same words almost eight years ago herself.

"Clare, please. Let me..."

The girl refused to turn, and spoke out towards the trees in the expansive yard.

"I don't need you. You'll never replace my mother, so don't even try."

Clare suddenly turned from the window, a slight smile on her face. Lena recoiled, then looked closer. The small girl's eyes were cold and empty, and still looked on the verge of tears.

"Clare...?"

Clare moved forward, almost automatically, and reached out, patting Lena on the head.

"Miss Lena, I forgot my manners. I'm very sorry for acting like this. If my parents find out how rude I've been, I'll get in so much trouble."

Lena's hand rose up slowly and clasped the girl's tiny hand in her own. It was shaking and cold, and felt terribly fragile.

"Oh Clare..."

Clare finally let go of the pillow, and moved to the wardobe, pulling out a few pieces of clothes.

"I'm going to go exploring. I'll need something interesting to tell my parents when I go home. I might even take some photo's so they can see what I saw here."

Clare took her pyjamas off methodically, folded them and placed them under pillow. She then redressed herself in outdoor clothes and her favourite pink coat. She surveyed her image in the mirror before heading to the bedroom door. Lena remained on the rug, dumbfounded.

"Don't worry, Miss Lena. I'll come back and eat something later. I didn't really like the breakfast you made. The bacon was burned."

With that, Clare left the room, her small feet tapping down the hallway. Lena's mouth dropped open into a small round 'O' of surprise. She was terribly confused, especially about that last comment.

"The bacon was burned? After all that, the last thing she says is 'the bacon was burned'..."

A sudden knock on the doorframe behind her made her jump. Lena turned, finding one of the house staff standing there.

"Ah... Michael. What is it?"

Michael, a tall thin man in his fifties, coughed into his closed right fist, then addressed her.

"Miss Lena: Young Master Abbot wishes to see you in his office. He has questions about the, how should I put it... disturbance this morning. Please head up there as soon as possible."

Lena started sweating immediately. This was exactly like being sent to the principal's office. She cursed herself for thinking like that, and sighed dejectedly. Michael, still standing in the doorway, chuckled slightly.

"Before you ask, Miss Lena, no: he didn't appear to be, as you so eloquently put it, pissed off."

The manservant stepped forward and extended a hand to help her stand up. Lena dusted off her knees and puffed out her cheeks, readying herself for the meeting.

"Thank you, Michael."

Lena marched off down the left hand corridor, pulled on one of the wall lamps and waited for the hidden door to Charles Abbot's office to open. Michael stepped out into the corridor after her.

"Miss Lena: I shall prepare a chocolate milkshake for you to drink while recovering."

Lena turned back toward him and flashed a smile, before disappearing into the office. For a hidden room it was quite bright inside, with large windows looking out into the gardens of the house, and onto the large school building beyond. Charles was seated at his desk, but looking out the window. Lena cleared her throat to announce her arrival.

"Uh, Mr Abbot, I'm here. What did you want to ask me?"

Charles spun the chair to face her, slowly, and rested his elbows on the desk, tenting his fingers in front of him. He didn't look angry, so Lena breathed a sigh of relief. Michael had been right.

"Lena, I believe you had some trouble bonding with my young charge. Please tell me what went wrong."

Lena crossed her arms, and looked at the large bookshelf slightly to the left of Charles' head, rather than at the man himself.

"I think I screwed up, sir. The kid doesn't seem to like me. I said something stupid about want to do 'mum-stuff' with her, and she got really mad at me. I humbly request that you re-assign me elsewhere."

Charles sighed, and closed his eyes.

"Your request is denied."

Lena leaned toward him, her face panicked.

"But sir!"

Charles leaned back into his chair, and placed his hands behind his head.

"I believe that this assignment will give you some long-needed life experience skills. When you came to live with us eight years ago you were in almost the same position as Clare. You were angry, and hurting, and didn't want anyone to interfere with you. You closed yourself off in a bubble. It took us eight years to get you to where you are now, but as far as I'm concerned, you still lack some basic social skills. You're still not very close to anybody here, and you're still distant with your school friends. You need to bond with somebody."

Lena bit her bottom lip and glared out the window.

"Why not just get me a puppy, sir?"

Charles opened one eye, and smiled slightly.

"The thought had crossed my mind..."

When Lena's expression didn't change, Charles sighed, and walked around his desk to stand in front of her. He put both his hands on her shoulders and tried to look into her eyes, but Lena still either looked past him or off to the side.

"See? You still can't make proper eye contact with people. Your deep-seated trust issues have to be dealt with before I re-assign you anywhere. That includes the Operations Division."

The last statement got through. Lena grabbed Charles' forearms, and she gazed up earnestly into his face.

"Sir! That's not fair! You know it's been my dream ever since I found out about it to join the Ops division after I left high school! I only have three years left!"

Charles sighed, and moved back away to his desk.

"Then I suggest that you learn to open up to people, and look after that girl like she's a younger sister. Get her to trust you. Make sure she's well cared for, and has everything she needs. I want to see her smiling again, just like she used to. Do you understand me?"

Lena sighed, then brought her hand up to her forehead in a defeated salute.

"Yes sir. My orders are to look after the midget like she's my little sister. Understood."

Charles nodded, then turned back to the window.

"Dismissed."

Lena lowered her hand and headed back to the door.

"Just one more thing, Lena."

Lena turned back, a questioning look on her face.

"Sir?"

Charles continued to look out the window as he spoke.

"Please continue to turn down my younger brother's advances. He is an idiot and an infamous womaniser, even if he is only sixteen years old this year. I wish to erase this mindset from him, but at the moment it seems impossible. I apologise for any trouble he has been causing you."

Lena scratched her head, then realized who Charles was talking about.

"Oh, you mean Adam. I can handle him sir, it's ok. Thank you all the same. I'll take my leave now."

Lena walked quickly out of the office and closd the door behind her. She exhaled loudly and slid down the wall, resting her head in her hands for a few seconds before rising and walking toward the kitchen. When she reached the kitchen, she found a chocolate milkshake waiting for her on the large wooden table.

"Ah, Michael, my man!"

Lena chugged the milkshake, then caught movement outside from the corner of her eye. She glanced out the window, and spotted Clare outside, taking a photgraph of a dove sitting on the large stone birdbath in the courtyard. She sighed and looked down at the remains of her milkshake, then grinned ruefully.

"I guess I'll just have to deal with this."

Lena looked out the window again, and Clare had disappeared. Lena frowned, then drank the rest of the shake.

"I wonder if I should put a bell on her or something?"

End Part 001

************************************


Well, that's it for the first bit - what do you think? Just to have a quick flashforward and spoilers for the rest of the story, the next few chapters will contain:

Clare meeting her four best friends; Alex, Danny, Eli and Storm
Clare starting school at the Abbot Academy, the school that Charles Abbot runs
The kids discovering a secret hidden beneath the school and the Abbot family home
Lena's first time piloting an ATFU (All Terrain Fighting Unit Mecha)
We meet some of the enemies... oooh!

Since I can't draw, I went to eLouai dollmaker and made up some character dolls so you'd know what my characters looked like, lol:

http://s112.photobucket.com/albums/n164/foxfire79/UnderCover% 20Story%20Characters/

Reviews are always welcome! In fact, they inspire me! :)

Foxfire out!