In the morning, it's the buzz and flicker of senescent lights sided with the creak of janitors wheels. Only minutes go by before the sizzle and spits of coffee makers hiss, indicating that a new brew has been made, interns and workers alike rush to get to a fresh cup of coffee on the house; the mussitation of early morning grief and deep yawns and sliding and skittering of feet against the old floor envelope the room. Hours later, it's the pitter patter of expensive heels against hardwood tiles, staplers slamming against stacks of paper and the buzz of printers ejecting the newest slips that will either promote, replace or create another edition to the cacophony of the Kirkland and Co. symphony. The 6th floor orchestra consisted of the usual hustle and bustle of exigent drones, scratching the last of their energy up in hopes to breath the pompous air of the ninth and final floor.

Ivan, however, was the weakest link. The most he had ever contributed to the orchestra was rat-a-tat of calloused fingers against his keyboard.

He had his own agenda to worry about.

Get up and get dressed, get through traffic then work, lunch break, work more hours then get through traffic again, converse with sisters over phone, sleep and press repeat. At this point, Ivan could fairly say that his life was like clockwork. He had no time between his daily schedule for himself and when he did it was usually wasted on purchasing a small Russian snack to get a taste of the home he missed so dearly. Though, his sisters will bring him sweets, snacks or candies from a grocery and market regardless; explains his size plenty.

He wasn't exactly getting fat (or fat at all for that matter) but he isn't as toned as he remembered. He works in a cubicle typing up papers and reports, for goodness sake, exercise only comes to his fingers. There's a 20lb weight resting in the farthest corner of it, right above his precious sister Natalia's portrait. There wasn't much time for cardio so it often was just something his office peers would prop their foot up on when speaking to him. His reminder of lost muscles suffering as their chitchat went on deaf ears, Ivan could care less of what they said unless his career was at stake. On some occasions -whenever Ivan demands so- his Latvian friend, Raivis, would visit for "Bring Your Child to Work Day" since he passed off as one so easily and sit their until Ivan asked him to stuff some mail somewhere or something of the like.

Ivan couldn't remember the last time he had actually worked to be rewarded with the pleasure of spending his money to not pay bill after bill. Of course, his new clothes (Usually pastel button-ups , dark argyle sweater-vests or casual waistcoats) came from the sympathy of his sister's; they were living off his paycheck and their minor paychecks from part time jobs at somewhere that was most likely a students workplace, but they only came so often as his free time did. If only they weren't in such bad shape and so pseudo-independent for the past 2 years, he'd be able to enjoy the pleasures of extra cash. He could buy a new scarf and possibly a decent date for the three of them if Natalia would allow such.

"Braginski!" Ivan put on the most serene look he could manage after being so rudely called out. "How long have you been here, Braginski?" his boss stated, far too confidently.

"Well, Mr. Jones my shift started about-"

"No-" his boss said, blue eyes sparkling with delight as he did so. To be honest, Ivan was very reluctant about the new boss when he had learned how painfully American he was. Yes, he had heard plenty rumors about him before and what with him being the square jawed poster boy for the company...

Well, he feared for his paycheck.

Now that he knows more of what the boy is actually like after having many conversations and discussion with him over the past year? Well, he's been reconsidering his career. "How long have you been here." the American raised his arms, gesturing that he was talking about Kirkland and Co., the business that both he and Ivan worked for.

"Ah... I suppose it has been short while, over a decade now. Perhaps it has been-"

Jones interrupted him once more and honestly it had begun to annoy Ivan, why does this man not let him finish what he has to say? Has he not caught on that Ivan hadn't the time for his incessant babbling and chitchat. If the boy didn't grouse over the head of this company whenever he felt he was being discredited then Ivan would have long given him the same treatment he showed everyone else who walked into his cubicle. "13 years you've working for Kirkland and Co.. That's a long, long, long time. You know how much has happened in 13 years?"

"No, Mr. Jones." Ivan decided he'd entertain his greenhorn of a boss as little as possible and hoped that the cold vibes he's been sending the little tart since the second time he cut him off would work and run him off. Why produce thought out responses when he would just be cut off with a rude jumble of what Mr. Jones produced regularly.

"A lot." he had answered for Ivan, seating his bottom on Ivan's desk and nearly knocking over a picture of his older sister, Katyusha, in the process. "Woopsy!" was his only indication of his sympathy before he began blabbering again. Ivan smiled to his boss, not wanting him to continue anymore but wordlessly encouraging him to do so. "Me, myself? 'Been working here for a little more than half of that. 8 years, y'know."

Ivan nodded, inserting an 'I know.' at this, becoming more and more enraged with the American. He hadn't even paused when the Ruski has opened his mouth to speak. No, he had only spoke louder to match Ivan's soft voice, not hesitating a second to even show he had heard what Ivan said. "-and look at me! High on the shelves of the business for half the time I've been here. So are you, Braginski. On the high shelves, that is"

"Oh, don't flatter me!" Ivan smiled as his boss sincerely. "My small boosts are nothing compared to your incongruous, madcap promotion to co-manager of Kirkland and Co.!" He was sure that he heard a snicker from his co-worker Roderich from outside of his booth.

Alfred, as ignorant as he was gorgeous, laughed heartily at this. The man must've saw great humor in this, he had doubled over and clutched his stomach, slamming his palm on Ivan's desk and kicking one of the drawers. "Man!" he said loudly, clapping the last of his fit out. "I like you, using big words like that. We need this kind of guy on the second floor! and Hey-" Alfred nudged and winked at Ivan, ruining his signature - Ivan had begun to sign documents to ignore Mr. Jones better - and leaving an ugly navy blue streak where and 's' should have been. "3 more floors and you're going to be there! Don't quit on me now, buddy. I'm depending on you Big Guy!"

Stab the man to death with a safety pin was the only thing running through the Ivan's head along with the vice chant of 'KolKolKol'. "Keep up with your ways and you'll be big guy!" Once more he heard a chuckle from Roderich but this time it was accompanied with various other chuckles.

He hoped the American had heard them.

Alfred laughed heartily once more and Ivan chuckled softly -more at the glares Mr. Jones was getting due to his obnoxiously loud chortle but only he knew that- as Alfred propped himself farther back on the desk, leaning against the wall of his cubicle. Ivan relaxed as well, he had gained a little self confidence from talking with Mr. Jones today, knowing that he wasn't as ignorant as his boss was reward enough. Poor man, hasn't even realized that Ivan was talking about his grotesque eating habits rather than his work effort.

"Thanks man, I'm trying! I swear they're killing me up there, though." Alfred acted out bobbing and weaving for reasons unbeknowst of Ivan, this boy was odd.

"Ah, yes, I know how they may feel. Well, I am sure you should start slacking off elsewhere, da? I too am being killed but it is not in an air conditioned office, rather down here in a small humid cubicle." Ivan pushed his chair back to dig for some paper work that was jammed in his file cabinet.

"Yeah, I know! You work pretty hard for this company, huh? I was looking through a few things and saw that you were paying for 3 different apartments ." Ivan stopped fishing through the cabinet, finally decided to put his full attention on what the greenhorn was saying. "I've got 3 places of my own, y'know. Lovely ol' colonial in Manchester, apartment in Hokkaido and a small condominium in Ontario. I live with Ar-... Mr. Kirkland here so I don't really pay for it." Ivan didn't respond with words but rather a glare out of his peripheral view. "Yours are kinda weird, being so close to each other. How does that work out, really?"

"Mr. Jones." Ivan's voice dropped an octave and his grip on the file cabinet caused a clenching sound to fly through the office floor. A dark aura surrounded the perimeter and heads popped out of their cubicles to see what was emitting it. "There is a lot of work to be done here. If I do not meet quota, I will lose job and if I lose job I will lose houses. If it's okay with you, I would rather not be homeless."

"Yeah! About that! You know what I've been saying about you being here so long and being such a great help to us, working as hard as you do without really getting the thanks you deserve. Arthur totally said that you could take a paid vacation since you've been so awesome and loyal! All these years you've been working for us, you'd be the best for it." Ivan paused and stared at the blonde with wide eyes, taking in the words and searching for any sign of a lie.

A genuine smile covered his face when he realized that Alfred was very much telling the truth. "You are serious! You can not be serious!"

Alfred grinned as the mood became lighter but it faltered slightly. "but uh" Ivan's smile faltered as well but he managed to keep up a facade. "Well, I'll just let Artie explain the details to you." Alfred grinned unsure of himself but motioned for Ivan to follow him. The Russian in tow looked at him inquisitively as he followed, already upset that he most likely won't be paid on his vacation or even get a real vacation at all. "Not gonna regret this, Big Guy." Alfred didn't sound half as convincing as he did when he told Ivan about the vacation but it was worth his time to even get an idea of the offer.

Ivan smiled to him, skeptical and already regretting answering to the blonde's 'How long have you been here, Braginski?'. Hopefully this will be rewarding. He has been waiting for an opportunity like this for well over a decade now, this had to be more than a lucky twist of fate.

Ivan glanced at the blonde in question, he looked pleased about something. If anything, this will benefit him more than it does Ivan, that's for sure. Ivan put on his warmest smile, knowing that it was his best defense against whatever Mr. Jones had planned. "Hey, Braginski! Let's take the elevator, dude, before it get's too crowded. I don't want to take those stairs for three floors, ha ha!" Alfred yelled loudly down the hall to a small crowd of six or seven. Ivan continued to keep his warm smile but he was writhing on the inside with embarrassment from being with Alfred and embarrassed for the American as well. The crowd had parted like the Red Sea when they saw him coming and all looked to be preoccupied with something totally different -as if they weren't even getting on the elevator in the first place- when they heard him.

Quiet groans filled the room when the doors to said contraption finally opened. The few people already on the elevator looked shocked to see him and darted off it when he stepped on. Alfred seemed completely puzzled, especially when the buttons glowed, showing that some people were headed to a farther up destination. If that wasn't pathetic enough, the crowd didn't even move to get on the elevator, neither of the two men asked if they were getting in before Ivan closed the doors for the sake of Alfred's further embarrassment.

Well, Alfred sure could clear a room.

Ivan giggled at the thought, he honestly wasn't surprised when his boss was completely quiet on the ride up. On the final floor, dozens of sympathetic eyes landed on Ivan as if the only way to go was back. It was almost as if they knew what his fate was with Mr. Kirkland. Some even mouthed 'Don't do it' or 'Say no, whatever you do, Say no!', even 'You've got balls, aru!' (That was personally his favorite).

"Hey Braginski..." Ivan turned to Alfred who looked nothing more than a kicked puppy, face showing discomfiture and eagerly awaiting a treat from his master. "I'll just chill out here."

Perhaps Alfred truly was as embarrassed as Ivan had hoped he was but in all honesty Ivan would show his boss he cared as often as he showed his boss his frown. "Okay!" Ivan forced his happiness just for the sake of mocking Alfred, smiling as if he was turning in his ticket for the lottery. "Wish me luck or to fracture limbs, as you Americans say!" Alfred gave a half-hearted thumbs up to him, bringing more joy into Ivan's heart as he did so. Ivan didn't knock when he opened the door, feeling no need to since he was already invited but wouldn't have cared either way.

When Arthur sighed upon looking up at Ivan, the Russian was sure that he wanted to leave. So much for a paid vacation.