Catch Me If You Can
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2p!Nyo!America x England
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A/N: characters in this FanFic are human. So I won't be referring them to their countries or use any sort of powers they possessed when they are countries.
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1

It was a party that Arthur had decided to attend. It was perfect, with people mingling and with all the masks, this Masquerade ball was the best opportunity for the Brit to blend in and try /not/ to get caught on Ms. Jones' mental radar ―which seemed to find him wherever he turned―.
It wasn't like she could catch him anyway; he always managed to slip away from her grasp at the last second.
A small smirk played on his lips at the thought, the plain black mask inching a bit at the movement of his facial muscles.
Arthur had worn a simple clean cut black suit with a white tie and gloves. He could easily blend in with the crowd. Having a slender glass of champagne in his hand, no one seemed to suspect that one of the most wanted criminals in the world was in the room.

Why was he a wanted criminal? The Briton has been charged with multiple robberies from top CEO's to the smallest of celebrity homes, he was the notorious "British Bandit" that stole items without a trace.
These details about the Brit were the exact reasons to why the highest ranking of the Interpol were taking his case. Francis Bonnefoy was the chief of the team, but Ally F. Jones, was the officer in charge in capturing the wanted man. It was Mr. Bonnefoy's decision, because he knew that the American girl was highly praised in the skills needed to catch the slick criminal.

Emerald eyes scanned the room intently, his movements controlled and maybe a bit too stiff to his liking. The bad part to this plan was that he could trust no one, the reason the same as why he decided to attend this gala, there were too many unknown and hidden faces.
"Blast it all." he groaned inwardly to himself, mumbling into the rim of his glass.
"Something wrong, darling?" a silk-like feminine tone had asked, a hand going upon his shoulder as he took a sip of his alcohol.
He had almost spit out his drink when he had heard her, but managed to subside the feeling by gulping hard.
"No, not at all." he said his tone the same as hers. A smug smirk stretched his lips, causing a deep dimple in his fair skin. Once he glanced at the woman, he realized she was as beautiful as her voice.
Her hair was in an old fashioned, short style ―something similar to what the 1920's flappers wore―, her mask was black like his and seemed to be detailed with small gems. The dress the young woman wore was a shimmery, strapless, maroon, form fitting evening gown that loosened around her calves, her arms were sheathed into satin black gloves, which went to about half of her upper arm.
"I'm glad to hear that." she said, curling her black gloved hands to her chin. A smirking grin crept onto her features as she leaned against the wall that was behind them. "You sure do seem lonely back here, why don't you go out there and dance?" her tone was seductive, a temptress's voice that Arthur shouldn't trust... But he was a weak man, and he couldn't resist her at all.
"I would love to, but who would I dance with in this busy room?" he asked, hinting slightly as he glanced at her.
"Well, I'm certainly not doing anything." the woman said with a playful chuckle. "Would you mind dancing with me, sweet cheeks?"
"I certainly wouldn't." Arthur replied, hiding the eagerness in his voice. He placed his empty glass on a passing waiter's tray, tilting the corner of his lips just the slightest as he looked at the mysterious lady.
"Wonderful." she purred out and took his gloved hand into her own.

Once she had lured him onto the floor, she made sure to have his hands placed on her hips and wrapped her arms to go around his neck.
She had smirked at him again, it was coy and alluring, and something that he seemed to be hypnotized by.
"Would you mind telling me your name, sweetheart?" he asked with a raise of his thick brow, the action being hidden behind his mask.
A light chuckle escaped her as the permanent half smile stayed on her crimson painted lips. "But telling you my name would ruin the masquerade." she purred, "Isn't that what this party is about? Having the wonderful mystery of not knowing who the people that are around you?"
A questioning look crossed the man's face, his mind even higher alert than it was. What she had said had snapped him out of the trance he had been in.
Who was this woman exactly?
"You seem confused, babe." her voice still her seductive tone.
"What?" he said, snapping back to reality, "No. No, I'm not." he said and continued to sway their bodies to the slow music that was playing.
"Mmm... Good." she said, sounding like her thoughts were wondering.

Skepticism still nagged the Brit in the back of his mind. Now that he thought of it, this woman seemed familiar. The recognition was similar to seeing a colleague that he hasn't seen for years, but he knew they had worked together before.
The voice she had and her movements on the dance floor were so painfully recognizable, yet unidentifiable.
It frustrated him so much. How could this criminal mastermind not place the name to this woman?
A small inaudible sigh escaped past his slightly chapped lips. He should try to relax; the paranoia might be getting to him a bit too much.
Vivid emerald irises glanced down on the shorter woman, looking into her rose hued eyes. They were so warm and inviting, enticing...
/Wait./he had thought to himself, his eyes widening. /Rose colored eyes?/
That was when the smirk on the woman's lips deepened, her features darkening. She had noticed his expression change to recognition.
"Looks like the mouse has finally been caught, yeah?" the young woman then lifted her black mask past her face and rested it on her well groomed hair, revealing her identity.
"Ally..." Arthur whispered out in shock. How could he have been so stupid as to not recognize those eyes before it had been too late?
"Ms. Jones to you, bastard." As soon as she said that several other men in black suits turned to face Arthur with the barrels of their guns.