A deep and emotional authors note:
Hello everybody. I'm finally going to upload multiple chapters again! I've been confused and out of motivation, yet I've picked up a four months old project. The name's The Trade/Russian Trade. (It looked like thrash back then. I was new at writing then..! Showed it to my girl crush. So glad she has a short time memory.)

It seems I'm a lesbian writer who's crushin' hard over my asexual Russian best friend. Isn't it nice? (Btw, I'm not used to calling myself a lesbian yet. I call it "being myself." Such nice words!)

*Cough,* please enjoy the story.

Summary: Matthew Williams is a shy little man. He has a summer job at a hotel just outside the city to save up a little money. He has to choose a side as his workplace is under attack by dangerous looking black suited men. One of them wants him so painfully much, he's lonely for a innocent human by his side. Never will the small man will the small man take on a summer job ever again. RusCan Mafia AU

Matthew Williams walked down the hallway, trying to straighten the already flawless, not to mention, tight uniform he wore, before gazing out of the windows. He smiled brightly at the glass. 'Such a lovely day... I hope I can get home early today, with no traffic cork. I can't wait to see Alfred again! I bet he is waiting for me at home.' The short blond adjusted his discreet glasses before looking outside again. He admired the baby blue sky and those healthy white clouds that signalized that Mr. Rain wouldn't come today to make everything poured in his pee.

The voice of four protesting and spinning wheels of a fast running car made Matthew snap out of his daydream. Looking down, he saw a black van pulling professionally in at a empty parking lot outside the hotel he was working at the greatest speed he'd ever seen. The shy man studied the black side windows, finding no answer to why anyone would buy those, ever. It looked awful. 'That van does stand out from among the other cars. Maybe it's some crazy Norwegians in their "russetid"*. My boss would kick them out if they're drunk as usually, trying to "rent a room" because they're too drunk off their asses to do anything else... drunk driving do not usually go that well, though.'

Like time had stopped in the whole world, except for the area around the hotel, the van door opened quickly and eight men dressed in expensive black suits sprinted to the entrance. A little boy followed after them, looking like he might go at a funeral today, his black jacket making the contrast with his yellow-brown hair. '...Maybe this is a funeral.' Matthew gripped the window frame for support, leaning on it, as his eyes fixed on a well built, tall man with yellow slicked back hair and bright blue piercing eyes. What was the object in his hand? Was that a gun? 'N-not Russ! Pistols! When they find me... when they do, I'll be in danger!' They came nearer the entrance. 'W-what will happen with me? What do they want?' The small blond whipped hastily around and walked the opposite way, away from the entrance in the first floor after nervously fixing his glasses once more.

Matthew's breath came out forced and quick as he walked quickly in the corridors. He didn't know where he was headed, but he knew that he needed to get far, far away from the threatening people in the lobby. He felt too scared to breathe, but his brain needed oxygen if he wanted to at least try to think clearly. His feet froze to the floor as he heard screams and a rough voice shout. "Everybody get down on ze floor immediately! Do not move a single muscle!" The man had a strange accent. Maybe the man was from Germany, or a related country?

The glasses wearing blond's breath hitched. He heard footsteps come his way. Listening to them, Matthew found out that they were kind of light. Maybe it was the mysterious boy from before? Matthew sank obediently to the floor and tried to calm his nerves. 'Okay. I have to call the police, so please God, don't let anybody see me..!' A brown haired man with short curled hair walked past him, miraculously not taking notice of his presence. He was confident. Too confident to be a hostage.

Once the sound of the footsteps were gone, the blond slowly got his hands on his phone, which had drowned in his tight working uniform's pocket. Matthew whipped it open and tried to turn it on. To be blunt, he failed miserably as nothing happened. His phone was out of power!

The man on the floor clenched his teeth and tried to think of a replacement. 'Damn you... "Kuro." You are never working when I need you.' He wanted to throw his phone away, and maybe hit someone in the head with it as well, but controlled himself and put it back into his pocket. Chances told him that a bullet could get delivered right between his eyes if he didn't act calm. If the phone made the usual loud sounds of restart. 'Since my phone fail to work, I should try the phone in the cafeteria, but the cafeteria is at the fifth floor... damn this building. And damn that company for selling me such a useless phone.' The blonde crawled on his fours, trying to make as little scratching noises as possible when his knees slid against the carpet on the floor.

Matthew must have looked idiotic, but no one was watching him, or that's what he thought. Crawl crawl crawl. Something was moving at the side of his vision. He slowly looked down, eyes widening as he saw what it was. A red laser pointer stalked his leg, trying to remain at the same spot on his leg when he crawled further. 'That couldn't mean? I'm targeted?' He stopped moving and sunk to the floor. It may have worked, the moving of the laser pointer was not as aggressive as before. The blonde rested more of his weight on the cold floor, giving a facade of being harmless.

A loud crash of walls being ruined, but not enough to completely cave in, and furniture blowing everywhere distracted the sniper. Luckily, the sniper remained calm. The man or the woman didn't pull the trigger in surprise Many, countless gunshots and screams was heard not far away. The laser pointer vanished from his leg.

'I must hurry! Lives are at stake!' The short rebellious man got on his fours again and continued crawling towards the end of the corridor. The confident man that had passed his without a second thought stood just around the corner now. Matthew gulped. He heard the man speak and crept closer. He was speaking hastily into a cellphone, not very calm and collected anymore. "Yes Feliciano, the Russians have gotten in. Please be aware of that rascal Ivan Braginski, he is the most dangerous. Yes. Yes. Keep the strict potato bastard close, and you won't have to worry. I love you, fratello. Bye." The small man's steps were faster and more stressed as he walked away into another corridor. This hotel sure is big.

Matthew laid down on the floor and rested his head on his arm. He thought of what Alfred would say to him if he ever came home again. Hi, or hello? Welcome, or missed you? The weird name that the small man had been talking about popped into his head. 'Ivan Braginski...Who is that? If he is dangerous as told, I have to avoid every person I can! Most likely, this isn't a prank... cannot be.' The Canadian man stood up, bent his back, laid his head down under the cover of his arm securely before sprinting for the the lift. It looked like the path where clear and safe, at the moment. He ran for the lift, noticing guns and snipers on both his sides. Among the rain of sudden bullets, all of them meant for him, a single bullet shot Matthew's shoulder in a incredible speed. The deadly speed of a bullet.

The Canadian man threw himself into the safety if the elevator before anything more could hurt him. He turned his head and pushed the button that make the doors close. Pain rose inside his arm and torso quickly. It didn't feel very bad though. 'I expected it to be more painful... Got to be adrenaline helping me out.' Blood poured out of his wound, through his slim fingers, and stained his hotel uniform at the white shirt and black vest around the bullet wound at his arm.

Matthew sat down on the floor and clutched the injury harder. For a second he couldn't breathe, but he could feel the function coming to life anytime. 'Steady now. Do it like some instructor told you in high school. Review memories of learned first aid.' Small tears pressed to come to the surface. Matthew fought with himself to keep them at bay. 'Damn it, maple! Men don't cry!' He took off his glasses and wiped the tears away with the end of his sleeve, but more pressed to come forth. Matthew sat his glasses back on and pushed his back onto the wall of the the elevator.

Two clothed legs stood before Matthew and he squeaked in a very uncool way. His eyes widened as he looked up and found out that he was indeed not alone anymore. Another person had come inside while he had been out, most probably. A tall man with a beige coat, dipped in blood, stared at him. -Stared right through him. Matthew really wanted to get out of the lift, but the doors was shut.
"Um... 'ello? Are you from the police?" The man's eyes wandered thoughtfully around the room, like it was a matter of thinking.

"No." His voice was cruel but sweetly childlike. He bowed down to Matthew's level and smiled weakly. "If we don't patch up that wound, you'll fall into a coma because of blood loss. Nobody can help you then, thinking of how far away the nearest hospital is. Some people like to attack people at places where help is far away. This area is a jackpot, you see. I can help you. Or would you like to bleed out on a ambulance bed?" He said in that sweet tone of his. A flash of distrust passed the blonde man's eyes, but got replaced with a tired expression. So very sleepy, poor Matthew was.
"So you can save me," he mumbled as his head rolled to rest on his shoulder. The big man smiled innocently at him and said,
"yes. Please show me your wound. I know a bit about this."
"My shoulder..." Matthew trailed off. His head felt light yet heavy at the same time.

Unknown fingers ripped the uniform vest open and slid it off halfway, letting it hang on Matthew's elbows. Next was his shirt. The Canadian felt a bit insecure about flashing the stranger his chest in the process, but if it stopped the bleeding it was definitely worth it.
"Would you mind if the shirt end up destroyed if it is for your survival?"
"Right now I couldn't care less. Rip it off big guy..."

As the blood drenched man worked on tearing strips from his shirt for bandage, Matthew asked. "What is your name? You do have one, right?" Through his half lidded eyes, he saw the lips of the man twitch slightly upwards.
"My name is Ivan. Ivan Braginski. I think you have heard of me?" The man was taken back, but tried not to show it. If he remembered right, the dangerous man he swore to avoid, he was sitting right in front of him, he was helping him. The Canadian man sighted. 'Oh.'

"What is your name, then?" Ivan asked.
"Matthew Williams," he murmured in reply.
"Hmm. That is a nice name I suppose. Where are you from?" The big man knotted the ends of the self made bandage and secured it with a painful thug on the ends.
M-maple-! Canada!" Matthew winced and Ivan gave the wounded man a little private space before going for the effective kill.

"Now that I have helped you, I hope you can offer something to me as well, no?" The Canadian's eyes flew open. If he had been drunk, he'd felt very sober by now. 'Is there something at all I can offer him? I don't have much money or anything fancy...'
"W-what would that be? Do you want money? I don't have much money right now... I'm saving." He seriously hoped that Mr. Braginski didn't want that, but he needed to test the waters even if he couldn't really swim in reality. Violet eyes scanned the Canadian's body with a lot of interest.
"Nyet. Money is very boring. I want something so much more valuable." Matthew swallowed hard. 'What could possibly me more worth than money? Isn't money power?'
"What do-" he protested. Ivan cut him off with ease.
"I want your loyalty. I get terribly bored and lonely with all these same people around me all the time. It's a natural reaction for a sane human, no?"

Williams just stared at the man before him. 'You are kidding right? With my loyalty he means... He's lonely for a companion? He wants to keep me?' Matthew gulped. If he gave himself over and accepted the deal, he may live. If he refused he would most likely die before he got out of the hotel. Ivan's smile was gentle, but it still scared the hell out of him. Matthew stopped the train of thought and mentally gasped. 'I can say no! Yet... the man's drenched in blood. It looks like he can do whatever he wants... if I decline, he'll most likely beat me to death! ...or kidnap me.'

Matthew looked up at the Russian man.
"Uh... I guess that is fine..?" Ivan's smile widened as he slowly lowered himself to Matthew's level.
"Thank you. Some of my men will meet us in the lobby." Shivers ran along his back as Ivan's eyes stared intensely into his. "Get on your feet. Now. We are leaving this hotel."

As Ivan tried to leave the elevator, Matthew blocked his path.
"I can't leave yet! We need to call the police!" The taller male lifted him away from the door casually.
"There's no need for that. The police only cause trouble. Let it be." Matthew puffed up his cheeks, looking very childish and stubborn.
"The police may arrest some of the men down in the lobby... they can save us if we keep us out of trouble until they arrive..?" He trailed off. He felt so stupid for disagreeing with Ivan. Williams felt so small.
"Leave it."
"But-" Ivan grabbed the other man's chin harshly, making their eyes meet. His hard eyes scared him. The man was tired of waiting.
"It might be hard to understand, but listen now, just listen. I am part of one of the most powerful gangs of the Russian mafia. That's why the police can't come. I can sell your insides on the black market if you don't satisfy my needs or fail to be seen in my eyes as any worth as a human." The Russian man kicked open the elevator doors, grabbing Matthew's wrist in a iron grip. In his other hand he held a loaded black gun. "Now, we have to get out of here as well. Come along, little Matvey."

*Russetid, russ- Norwegian students, called "russ" wear a red or blue outfit + a cap as they celebrate that they're
almost done studying for their future. Almost. Whilst coping with a lack of sleep coming from partying, drinking, acting crazy and fucking (each other up, if you want to think that), their grades are often on stake if one does not watch out. Things turned out badly for one of mom's old friends, a good student who lost her good grades due to partying. Norwegian "russ" celebrating that they are almost done with school, are celebrating their "russetid." For all I know, Danes and Swedes might celebrate russ as well. They're Norway's big brothers, as my mother call it. Please PM me is you're a knowing Dane/Swede to tell me. I seriously have no idea, and searching for it on the internet is *very* boring. Surprise me, my Scandinavian friends! :D

Folkens. Ta vare på dake sjølv under russetio så tar dåke mest forhåpentligvis vare på karakterane dåkas og! D:

Please review and let me know if this was worth your time. Please? ;)

"This wasn't ment to be so long... please don't expect another chapter to just pop up out of the blue because I have in total six stories to work on... DenNor, RussCan, orginal fiction, a cracky Prussia X ****** fanfic, RussAme, and more RussAme."

- MobileWriter *v*