"So, you're not even going to give me a name?" Neah probes, brown eyes scrutinizing the man next to him.

His new partner – long red hair, freckles, thick glasses – is unfairly pretty. He's also one of the best thieves and informants in the underworld – known as the one and only successor to the Bookman of all people - and working with him… Well, it was only a matter of time until everyone started talking about 'The Musician' and this job, if successful, would only help that.

"Hm… you can call me… Allen." 'Allen' says, after a moment of quick and seemingly careless contemplation. He doesn't even bother to look up from his book.

"C'mon, that's not even your real name!" Neah needles, though there is a sly smirk on his face.

'Allen' finally looks up at Neah and smiles that devastating smile that the other male can tell is clearly a weapon – Mana used to the same thing when they were younger and he was angry. His glasses slip down his nose, revealing his rather stunning grey eyes and the back of Neah's neck feels suspiciously warmer. "You didn't give me your name the first time we met either, monsieur Musician."

"Yeah well, I didn't know if you were a jerk or not yet." Neah easily says and it gets a genuine laugh out of Allen and damn, wasn't that one of the most beautiful sounds he's heard the whole past week? "By now, you've been able to judge me and develop an opinion that you're probably not going to change. From the way you act around me, I'd say it's a positive one. So, that said, I think I deserve a name other than 'Allen' or 'The Apprentice,' don't you?"

Allen seems to like that answer, because his smile is a little easier and even teasing. "You'll have to earn it."

"Sounds like it'll be fun."

"That's what you think." And with that, Allen returns to his book, though it is clear that he's listening to anything Neah has to say.

He doesn't really talk from then on out, double checking his bag to make sure all of the supplies that they'll need are there and functioning.

In the silence, Neah realizes that, while he is wearing a beanie in order to hide his hair, Allen's is completely down and in his face.

"Aren't you going to put your hair up or cover it? You don't want them to find any of your DNA."

"I'll put it up when it matters." Allen then pauses and takes a thoughtful look at Neah. For moment, he seems to weigh the pros and cons of speaking again. "The government would never be able to find me unless they actually physically caught me in the act, anyways."

"…Okay. That makes no sense, but whatever you say, Al."

"Al?" In that moment, Neah feels extremely lucky that he had let the little nickname slip, because Allen's bemused face is dangerously cute.

"You needed a nickname." He easily replies, going to the computer screens that show the positions of several different security guards.

"You don't want to do that yet." Allen says, not looking away from his book – something in Hindi that Neah doesn't understand, but must be interesting because he's been reading it the whole entire time even though they're about to be breaking into one of the more secure museums this side of Europe.

"I wasn't going to do anything yet." Neah says, fingers hovering over the keyboard. On screen before them is a group of security guards that are leaving their designated areas and are all meeting in what seems to be a break , the overhead camera shows they even brought a pack of cards.

Neah has to admire how fucking lazy and undedicated these guards are at their jobs – not that they would be employed for much longer when Neah and Allen were through with them.

Allen closes his book without a word, calm as ever and smiles at Neah kindly as he maneuvers himself into a better position. He makes short work of pinning his hair up into a bun so the long strands won't get caught on something at a crucial moment – not everything fits and the strands that usually frame his face stay where they are, but it's a good look, even for him. He swats at Neah's hands and types furiously, hacking the museum's camera system and disabling it so there won't be a trace of them recorded.

"If the patterns I've observed over the past few weeks are correct, we should have a good thirty minutes or so before the security comes back to this side. It might be longer; they're all bloody awful at cards. After the alarm on the diadem trips off we'll have about… four minutes to get off of the premises. I hope you're good at running."

Neah, always a gentleman when the situation doesn't call for it, extends his arm towards Allen once they are out of the van.

"As if you didn't already know I was the best before the old man got me involved. Shall we get started?"

Allen puts a slender hand on his arm and for a second Neah believes that he's actually going to break into a very large museum and steal a very expensive diadem with him arm in arm, but the redhead passes by him easily.

"We shall. Follow my lead."

Neah grins and takes a few easy strides in order to catch up with the shorter man. Soon, what Allen would find out, is that Neah isn't really one to follow a lead.