Title: Leave the Land with No Stain
Rating: PG
Crossover-AU
Featured Characters: Balalaika, Nichol, Boris, Revy, Trowa Barton, Catherine Bloom
Characters Are not mine. I am just borrowing.
A/N: Another take on an idea explored in a story I wrote that takes place in my gangster AU.

The flyer was placed on the desk in a business like fashion. It advertised a high wire and trapeze trio that were supposedly the best in the world. Balalaika looked over the faded black and white photocopied image of the three members of the act, and a long misplaced smirk found its way to the corner of her mouth. She clipped a cigar and then lit it, eyeing Boris for a moment before exhaling a stream of smoke.

"And what does Mr. Chang have to say about this circus that's coming to town, Sergeant," Balalaika asked as she leaned back into her chair.

"Only that he has a box set up for himself for the premiere performance," Boris replied and then added, "He says if you'd prefer the box he'd be more than willing to let you have it."

"Oh, well…Isn't that gracious of him. What does he want in return?" She eyed the flyer again, focusing on one face in particular.

"Apparently, Mr. Chang and the Hong Kong Triad are looking for someone as well," Boris replied enjoying the genuine smile on his commander's face. It had been too long since she had last smiled in such a way. Her smiles had become more and more sinister since their recent mission.

Balalaika shut her eyes and shook her head. "Well, we will not be attending the circus, Sergeant, so you can kindly decline his offer."

"Ma'am?"

"This is personal, Sergeant, not business." Balalaika stated firmly and then added, "I'm not going to jeopardize this reunion by turning it into business."

"If it's really him and the circus is tied to the Triad-"

"Boris, I'm only saying this one more time. This is personal, and if anything happens to him involving the Triad, it will remain personal. Hotel Moscow will do business by the books."

Boris saluted then and nodded.

I, however, will not, Balalaika thought to herself as Boris left the room. She stared back at the flyer and took another puff from her cigar before going over to her liquor cabinet and pouring herself a drink. "We're hard to kill, Nikolai. I knew you'd turn up."

Roanapur was a city of villains and criminals. It was the city of the forgotten, and Nichol didn't want to be performing there. His companions and fellow artists held similar feelings about the choice of venue, but the owner's strings were pulled by some rough looking Chinese businessmen. He wondered as he helped set up the trapeze rigging if those businessmen were the reason why Wufei decided to skip out on his contract with the show.

It was probable, and just went to prove his theory that everyone had something to hide or run away from, except he didn't really run away. The circumstances surround his joining up with the circus was a series of mixed blessings and losses. It was the losses, or rather one particular loss, that clung to him.

"I don't think you can get the rig any tighter, Nicky."

He turned towards the sisterly tones of Catherine Bloom and shrugged. "I was thinking."

"You've been doing a lot of that since you found out we'd be performing here," Catherine stated. "Afraid someone might find you here?" She was teasing, but the look on his face belayed the truth. "Nicky, I highly doubt the Russian army is still searching for you after all this time, not to mention the regime changes."

He nodded and stepped away from the rigging. "Where's Barton at anyway? He said he had to take care of something, but he promised he'd be back in time to set up."

Catherine grinned at Nichol's attempt to shift her concern to her brother, but Nichol was, practically, family these days, another brother to look out for, or rather, a brother-in-law except that neither her brother nor Nichol would confess to anything.

"He'll come around," Catherine said softly. "I think he just wanted to make sure Wufei was ok."

Nichol scowled. "That man…he's infuriating."

"I'm worried about him too," she said softly. She stepped over and hugged him tightly though he only half heartedly returned the gesture. The important thing about family, for Catherine at least, was that it didn't matter if they were blood related or not. What mattered was that she trusted Nichol, and Wufei. She trusted them with her life and they never let her down, never let her fall.

Nichol stepped away from her and walked back towards his tent. He eyed a few men who were dressed in black business suits and then huffed as he stepped inside. He sat on the bed and ran his hands through the thick dark curls of his hair. He looked over at the box serving as a nightstand and picked up a faded photograph. A young woman in a captain's uniform stared back at him, her blue eyes were a little cold, but, always, they reminded him of his mother's, their mother's.

"I wish I knew what that war did to you," he said softly, and tried to ignore the many times he had said it before when he was frustrated with the world.

"I have the intel you asked for," Boris said as he entered the office, "And the girl from the Lagoon Company is asking to see you." He stepped in and placed a folder on Balalaika's desk. She was looking at the flyer again.

"Thank you, Sergeant. Send her in please." She looked at the folder containing the intel she wanted, but only gave it serious attention once Boris had left. Her eyes narrowed briefly, and then her expression softened slightly. "You always do what you think is right, Nikolai, but look at what that gets you…Us." She glanced up when there was a knock at the door. "Come in, Revy."

The door swung open and a young gunwoman entered the office. She stood expectantly with her arms crossed over her chest, expressing more patience than she had in recent months. Rock must have been away somewhere with Dutch or Benny.

"What can I do for you, sis?" Revy asked and dropped her arms to her sides.

Balalaika grinned at what was an odd endearment for her to accept, but she did. Anyone else would have been shot for disrespect, but Revy called her sis and it was fine. Even when she was saying it disrespectfully, uttered in bitter tones, it was easily accepted. Revy was more brash than Balalaika's lost brother was, but there was a level of stubbornness that met with skill that was enough of a reminder to allow a small bead of affection to form between herself and the girl.

"Mr. Chang is looking for someone at the circus that just rolled into town. I don't think he's there, and I don't really care if he's found. I want your eyes and your gun at the premiere performance though."

"Want someone shot?"

Balalaika slid the flyer across her desk. "Mr. Chang is generally a cool and collected gentleman, but if trouble follows I want you to make sure nothing happens to any of these performers."

Revy's browed creased awkwardly. "A bodyguard gig? Couldn't one of you-"

"No. Not for this." She reached out and pulled a cigar out of the case on her desk. "It's a private contract for you. If nothing happens then nothing happens, and you get a night out at the circus, plus…oh…I think six-thousand should just about cover it."

"Are you feeling alright, sis? That's-"

"That's the deal, Revy. It's a lot of rum money, or…." She almost laughed and she grinned wickedly and said, "something like that, eh?"

Revy nodded. "Anything else?"

"Yes, if there's no trouble please see that Danya Nikolai Belanov receives this." She held out a small envelope sealed with wax. "If there is trouble don't worry about it."

Revy stepped up and took the card. "I don't generally even think of prying, but this seems…personal."

"You should stick to your habits about asking," Balalaika replied. "I'd hate to have to repeat that conversation we had in Japan."

Revy wasn't a fan of the circus. It was just one more thing that reminded her of everything she never had growing up. There were no trips to the circus for her and her family when she was a little girl. There was no popcorn or Crackerjacks, no cotton candy dreams filled with memories of pretty ladies flying through the air and being caught by strong men that never let them fall.

She had a bad seat, but she didn't need to see most of the things going on in the ring. What she needed to see was Mr. Chang's box, and a clear view of the trapeze and tightrope act, and the seat she was in was good for that.

As she watched Mr. Chang's box he seemed a little disappointed by the whole performance. It was probably because whoever he was looking for wasn't there. What she could read of his expression reminded her of Balalaika's, and she wondered if Mr. Chang had some personal business to tend to as well.

Nothing happened, and that was a shame, a good shoot out always made her happy, but with the show over Revy made her way towards the actors' tents. She spied the trapeze trio and stepped up to them as casually as she could.

"Is one of you Danya Nikolai Belanov," she asked, and then held out the letter she was supposed to deliver to the man who reacted to the name. "I'm just here to deliver this," she stated when she noticed the other two in the group start to get twitchy. Well, the woman was getting twitchy. The young man next to her had that look about him that Revy could never mistake. That man was a soldier or a mercenary at some point. He didn't smell of the gutter, but he carried an aura of gun smoke and blood about him that ex-soldiers tended towards.

The man who was supposedly Danya had a similar feel and after his moment of being taken off guard composed himself. He looked her over and nodded, accepting the letter.

"How is she," he asked.

Revy arched an eyebrow. "Um…good…I guess. It's hard to tell with Fr- I mean, Balalaika."

He chuckled. "She changed her name to Balalaika?" He shook his head and said, "Well, I changed my name too. That's fair enough."

Revy nodded and stepped away. "Well, whatever. You're safe, and you have the letter. I'm done."

"Safe?" The question came from the ex-soldier.

"Trowa?" It was the woman, and the tone was a warning for caution.

Trowa shook his head. "I don't like coincidences."

"Niether do I," Revy said. "But nothing went down." She eyed the three and then said, because Dutch would have killed her if she didn't and Balalaika would probably appreciate it, "If you guys ever need a quick escape check out Lagoon Company. I'm sure we can apply Hotel Moscow's rate."

Trowa nodded and watched carefully as Revy left.

The office was quiet, and when a hesitant knock came to her door Balalaika stopped what she was doing and placed it to the side before allowing the visitor to enter. She watched as the man entered the room. He looked like a tourist in khaki pants and a neatly pressed and very colorful Hawaiian print shirt. She stood up and gestured to a chair. He cleared his throat nervously and sat down eyeing the contents of her desk. Noting the lack of any personal items except a wooden box he recognized from his youth that he was certain contained the best Cuban cigars money could buy.

"Your name change wasn't the most creative," Balalaika said softly. "If the army ever caught on to your little trick, and I highly doubt they did, you'd be easy to find Nikolai."

He nodded. "I suppose so." His jaw was tense and then he blurted out, "Why didn't you come back? They said you were dead, but I knew you weren't. But you didn't come back."

Balalaika narrowed her eyes and then shut them. "You were supposed to have been taken care of. I wasn't… I wasn't well for a long time, and when I was you were gone, ran away they said. I was going to look for you, but, I'm afraid, things got in the way."

"Yeah, that happened to me too." Nichol sighed and then looked around the office again. "I hear you practically own the city."

Balalaika chuckled darkly. "Not quite. Maybe more than a quarter of it. Do you like the circus? Does it ease the loss of not making it to the Olympics as a gymnast?"

"Does being a gangster ease your loss?" He sat back in his chair and then said, "We're failures. Neither of us could redeem the family name."

One of her hands balled into a fist and then relaxed. She could let his insults slide. He didn't know any better. She reached for a cigar and then offered him one.

"I don't smoke. It's bad for you, you know?"

"I do." She clipped her cigar and then lit it. "I can't ever fully explain my actions to you, but you know me. I bet you can make a decent guess."

Nichol nodded and then said, "I could… I could help you."

"Absolutely not."

"But Natalia-" Balalaika held up a warning finger and he stopped.

"It's too dangerous to have personal ties in this world, Nikolai. If you're near me I can't be who I need to be, because I'd have to be your big sister first."

"So this is all I get? Hello, Nikolia, I'm not dead, but tough luck kid I can never see you again?"

Balalaika grinned, and shook her head. "Go back to your circus Nikolai, and keep that good looking young man of yours close."

He blinked.

"And if you need to see me again just ask him. He won't refuse."

***** Epilogue *****

"Capitan," Boris' voice intruded her thoughts.

She looked up and nodded.

"Corporal Barton sends his regards."

Balalaika grinned and pulled out a cigar. "I'll be going out. Make sure the detail you have following me is light. Guns… they tend make Catherine nervous."

End.