A/N: Hey, R.Jade again. Seriously, I swear my ideas are alright in my head. beats head against desk Seriously, this thing came out of nowhere. I don't even know what it is. The ties aren't quite as enchanting as I previously imagined. It might get interesting. I couldn't say. Next chapter should be good, I think. But if it comes out like this, don't get your hopes up. Hope you all enjoy it anyway.

It may take me awhile to get chapters up from here on out because I've just started school and a musical, so it's a little hectic, but I'll do my best. I'm working on some drabbles and one-shots, too, just to please you all, if it will please you at all. I should have the first parts of my 100 drabbles story thing up soon. Please review this, though!

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CHAPTER TWO: One Little Detail

It had been a matter of months since Jack Spicer had succeeded in stealing the Golden Tiger Claws. Ever since, Raimundo had been determined to get them back. They were one of his very favorite Shen Gong Wu, after all… or at least, one way or another and whether he liked it or not, it was the only way he could think of to get this nuisance out of their lives for good.

The entire journey had been made on the Crouching Cougar, with the reluctant hostage grumbling and scowling the entire way. It wasn't as though he could have expected anything else, so he left it at that, remaining virtually silent, which required a considerable amount of self-control to say the least. His expression had remained somber and his tongue tied almost the whole trip, but as they approached Jack Spicer's mansion, he felt ready to burst.

He'd left the rest of the Xiaolin Dragons with word of his whereabouts; they only seemed relieved that Morela was out of their hair. Who wouldn't be, Raimundo thought bitterly. Unfortunately, he couldn't make such a claim. The sooner they got this over with, however, the sooner he could rid himself of this baggage. Besides, he wanted that Shen Gong Wu; they all did.

They stopped somewhere just beyond the front garden of the manor and, by instinct, Raimundo crouched, perched on his toes in a nimble fashion. He narrowed his eyes, evaluating their task. Morela, on the other hand, stood behind him, arms folded across her stomach, far from alert and aware. It was exasperating, no doubt, but at least he had someone to do the dirtiest work. If someone was going to get caught, it wasn't going to be him. Since that showdown, Raimundo had wanted nothing to do with Jack Spicer and he planned on retaining that particular ideal.

"I can't believe it."

Raimundo started and turned at the sound of the girl's voice behind him. She was glaring reproachfully at the Spicer mansion, shaking her head. Brushing her dark hair from her face, she plunked down beside him, sitting cross-legged on the grass, thin lips pursed witheringly. Her murky eyes flickered with a sinister hate; against her pale skin, it seemed even more intimidating. Raimundo raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"The jerk set me up, didn't he?" She turned her eyes suddenly toward Raimundo, taking a deep breath and speaking again quite forcefully. "Why are we here? You never explained yourself, you know. I'm assuming there's a reason we're staked out."

"Duh." Raimundo replied with a roll of his eyes. "We're stealing some Shen Gong Wu. I told you that. Get with the program." Finally, he allowed himself to relax, his heels touching the grass, followed closely by his rear. "Why are you acting so weird?"

"What exactly are we stealing?" she asked quietly, obviously deep in thought.

For a moment, Raimundo considered silence as an option. Quickly, however, by the shadowed look upon her face, he reassessed the situation; he didn't trust this girl as far as he could throw her, but it was all on neutral ground now. "They're called the Golden Tiger Claws. It's the only way to get you to Portugal without being seen."

Morela didn't reply. Instead, she stood up, peeking around the foliage around them into the garden beyond. "Come on, follow me."

"Hey, isn't it me who's supposed to be giving orders?" complained Raimundo as he submitted almost instantly, trotting behind her and scowling. One way or another, he had to admit he was rather intrigued by her obvious recognition. Something had clicked in her head and he was desperate to know what it was. It was the curse of a curious mind… if that's what you wanted to call it, of course. His comrades simply called it annoying. He had to admit he was shocked when he found himself following her to the door of a wine cellar. He was even more shocked when she removed a key from her back pocket, inserted it into the lock, and slipped inside. Once again, he followed, overcome by his nosiness, although the Shroud of Shadows was burning a hole in his pocket as they spoke. He didn't want to be seen. He really didn't want to be seen.

"I'm going to kill him, I'm just going to kill him." she murmured bitterly. The statement was followed by some excessively profane cursing in Portuguese that made Raimundo smirk and nod. The string of profanity reminded him vaguely of life in the Brazilian circus when he thought about it. They descended a flight of stairs before they came to another door, this one secured much more effectively.

Morela flew through the identification tests as if it were nothing, lending her handprint, a retina scan, her voice for recognition, and a specialized access code. After a hiss of compressed air, they stepped through the stainless steel sliding doors and into what appeared to be the bedroom of Jack Spicer. "Hide. Now." Morela hissed through gritted teeth and Raimundo promptly obeyed, pulling the Shroud of Shadows over himself, although he had to wonder when it had been she who took over this operation.

Mostly likely when she gained recognized access to the Spicer manor, he thought. This ought to be interesting.

"Who's there?" a voice from somewhere in the next room called. Raimundo immediately recognized it and pulled the shroud tighter and concealing himself behind Morela, though he knew he was invisible.

"It's Morela Oliveira, Spicer. I have a bone to pick with you." she snapped impatiently. There was a brief sound of scrambling before a figure appeared on the other side of a door to their left, wiping his pale, oil-stained hands on an old rag.

Raimundo was sure it was the first time he had ever seen Jack Spicer without his trademark eyeliner… or his usual ensemble, for that matter. He was simply dressed in a ratty and grease-stained red shirt and a pair of faded black jeans. For more than a few moments, he was rendered entirely stunned, tilting his head one way then the other, simply for a better look, as he was sure this was going to be the only time he'd ever see Jack like this. He hardly looked like Jack, to tell the truth. It was strange how one little detail could make all the difference in the world.

"I told you what you wanted to know. What do you want from me now?" Jack groaned, tossing the rag aside. His room was rather disorganized, Raimundo noted. It wasn't entirely surprising to him, however.

"You failed to mention that you happen to have some of the same artifacts right here in this very house. I don't pay thousands for a set-up, Spicer. I expect full use of these Golden Tiger Claws I've caught wind of." Morela paused, drumming her fingers on her arm and raising her eyebrows. "Rumor says you have them."

For a moment, there was a confused silence, but Jack then furrowed his brow, crossing his own arms in indignation. "Alright, where are you hiding them?" he snarled, looking her up and down, the same hatred reflecting in his eyes that had been present in hers. It could only be assumed he meant the Xiaolin Monks, especially by his wild expression. Ah, thought Raimundo. So this was her source. Somehow he was sure he should have known.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I spoke to someone very reliable, actually… Tubbimura, I believe was his name. He informed me quite clearly that it was you that possessed these Tiger Claws and not the monks you spoke of." she shot back toxically. Raimundo was careful to dodge her arms as she made an exaggerated hand gesture to illustrate her frustration. His eyes flitted around the room for a moment, determined to make himself useful. Frowning, he backed toward the wall, away from Morela as the pair continued their argument.

"Like I'm supposed to believe that!" Jack scoffed, shaking his head. "What else are you prepared to hand over if I let you use the Golden Tiger Claws, huh?"

"Absolutely nothing, Spicer! I already…"

At this point, Raimundo's attention had shifted. The Golden Tiger Claws had to be around here somewhere and, with Jack distracted, he was free to search for them as he pleased. Being invisible only helped matters. Creeping around the bickering pair, he investigated the room, keen gaze finding every nook and cranny, and still nothing. "Damn…" he murmured under his breath, shaking his head and furrowing his brow.

Luckily his eyes shifted upward at that moment. There, perched precariously on a shelf, sat the Golden Tiger Claws. After one final glance toward Jack and Morela, Raimundo elevated himself on tip-toe and, making sure to keep himself covered with the Shroud, reached for the Shen Gong Wu. Just a little further… just a little… oh, damn.

He watched as the Shroud of Shadows slipped, exposing the bronzed skin of his forearm to the world. He bit his lip, glancing back at the others and releasing a breath of relief to see that Jack's back was to him. Morela's eyes had flickered to him for a moment, full of warning and panic. Just one more inch… keep him distracted… shit!

The Shen Gong Wu slipped further, now exposing half his body and his head. He felt it slip completely off and caught it with his opposite hand, still perched on tip-toe and reaching for the Tiger Claws. Keep talking…

Finally, the tips of his fingers touched the Shen Gong Wu. "Yes…" he mumbled inaudibly, pulling them weakly toward him and away from the wall.

It was appropriate that the entire operation would go to hell in that moment. It took less than a second for him to loose his already feeble grip on the Tiger Claws and he could do nothing but watch in horror as they tumbled to the floor. The clatter that ensued as they hit the ground was too much for anyone to shrug off. The conversation stopped abruptly and Jack turned around furiously.

"You little liar!" he spat, eyes flickering toward Morela accusingly. The girl simply shrugged, then looked back at Raimundo, obviously a bit more than dismayed. "Jackbots, attack!"

"Come on!" Raimundo yelled as Morela rushed forward. "Golden Tiger Claws!" Grabbing her hand, the Dragon of the Wind slashed at the air and pulled her through the hole in the time-space continuum that had resulted.

"Take me to Portugal." she snarled, holding onto him as they flew, suspended awkwardly in space.

Raimundo didn't really want to argue.

They ended up coming out in an alleyway in Lisbon, in the dead of night. Morela broke away from him disgustedly the moment they'd leaped from the tear in time, scowling at him. "I had it under control, you know."

Raimundo scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You obviously don't know Jack Spicer too well. He never would have let you use these." He waved the Tiger Claws at her as he replaced the dangling Shroud of Shadows in his pocket. "You're in Portugal. Can I go?"

"Of course not. We're not finished." Morela smirked, turning toward him. "Have you ever been to an international ball?" She paused for a moment, looking him up and down critically. "I assume not."

Drawing himself to his full height, Raimundo glared at her, rather wounded. "How do you know?"

"I've been a diplomat's daughter for 17 years, that's how." she replied simply. "That's where we're going. I suppose you could run off, but it's a good time… beautiful dancing… lovely women… absolutely wonderful food…"

However he wanted to protest, Raimundo had to admit it didn't sound all that terrible. Honestly, the food was what allured him the most. It wasn't all that puzzling once you thought about it, he supposed.

Really, it couldn't be all bad, could it? He bit his lip, surveying Morela and her proposition for a few long moments. It might be nice. Slowly, he nodded and Morela looked smug, as if she had known it the entire time.