Tienimi Stretto (Hold Me Closely)

Chapter 2

Maybe this was all a dream.

Not only did he get a new partner in less than 3 days, but the one that was picked for him was a complete idiot. Yeah, there's no way this could have been be real! It was too absurd.

"What are you doing?"

Lovino looked up to his puzzled boss, removing his fingers from the abused skin on top of his arm.

"Trying to wake up from this damn nightmare."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, "Lovino..."

"Ah!" The Italian threw up his hands, "Well what am I supposed to do? You just told me the bastard outside is my new partner. What were you thinking?!"

Calmly staring at the fuming boy, Arthur let out a sigh.

"I assure you that Detective Carriedo was intentionally hand-picked to be your partner. He comes from an elite private unit, and holds skills you haven't even been taught yet. I suggest you get to know him before you judge him, Lovino."

Lovino flinched, staring down at his lap like a child who had done something wrong.

He hated whenever Arthur brought that up. The Italian was well aware that he wasn't liked very well in the office, no matter how much Arthur told them not to judge people based on how they act or appear on the outside. He had accepted that fact a long ago, used to the expressions of disapproval and distaste of the other employees targeted at his sour attitude. Expectations were never high for anyone he would meet.

But, whether Lovino noticed or not, Arthur was one person who saw right past the stone wall that protected the boy's heart. He knew that it was Lovino who gave the left over bagels and donuts to the homeless family down the street, and that it was Lovino who adopted that cat that someone abandoned in front of their station last winter.

Lovino was the perfect example of a misunderstood man, and yet he did nothing to change that. Sometimes it irked Arthur, and sometimes all he wanted to do was just slap some sense into him. He knew, however, that the only one who could do that was the man himself. Ah, Arthur's job was never an easy one.

Covering his mouth as he leaned into his hand, Lovino locked eyes with his boss.

"All right, I'll give him a chance. But that doesn't mean I have to work with him."

"I had a suspicion you'd say that."

Arthur rolled his eyes, pulling open his right hand drawer and grabbing a folder. He placed the beige packet at the edge of the table, urging Lovino to lean out of his chair over to look at it. When he caught sight of the packet name, the Italian's eyes widened—hands instantly reaching out to snatch the folder, but it disappeared from his sight before he could do so. A winning smirk played on the lips of his boss as he looked over the folder, clearly tempting the young Italian.

"This is what you've been trying to get your hands on, hm?" A smirk found its way onto his boss' face, "If you actually make an effort to get along with Carriedo, I'll give you this."

Lovino was silent for a moment, eyes filled with an edge of confusion, fear, and skepticism. "H-how do you know about that? No one knows about that."

Arthur gave him a look, "Lovino, I am the Chief of the Chicago Police Department. It's my job to know these things." Opening the drawer once again placing the folder back in, Arthur sent him a sympathetic smile, "Don't worry. I'm not going to question your intentions. Just keep doing your job, and try to get along with your co-workers."

The Italian shot him a long glare before, finally, nodding. With Lovino's confirmation, Arthur stood up and walked towards his office door. Holding it open, the man turned to Lovino.

"Good. Now let's go properly introduce the two of you, shall we?"

Lovino wasted no time getting up and moving out of the room. He grimaced when he noticed that all the women had congregated around his desk to talk to Carriedo, who was chatting with them about what sounded like farming or some shit.

"—and we never would get rain! It'd always be sunny and hot and it was great because I got to go in the fields and tend all the crops!"

All the women swooned at his Spanish accent, listening to every word he spewed from his mouth as if it would somehow decide who lived or died. A growl erupted from Lovino's mouth as he watched the man throw his head back in sweet laughter. He was about to smack that stupid expression off the idiot's face, but held back when Arthur spoke up first.

"Now, now, ladies. Please give Detective Carriedo some space. Back to work."

Recognizing that the command was given by the Chief, the women complied immediately, but not before letting out a few 'boos' and reluctant sighs.

Carriedo waved goodbye to all the women as they dispersed before looking up at his new boss.

"Good to see you, Chief!" When Carriedo caught sight of a pissed-off Lovino, the man brightened, "Ah! Uh... I didn't catch your name."

"I never said it, dips-" Arthur gave him a sharp look, "dip-depending on our previous circumstance. But I suppose I'll tell you now." By the way Carriedo was looking at him like he was telling what the cure for cancer was, Lovino faltered a little under his intense gaze. "Ah, L-Lovino Vargas."

Carriedo brightened even more than before, which the Italian didn't even know was possible.

"So you're Lovino!" But just as fast as the smile had reached the man's face, a frown had replaced it.

"Wait…you're Lovino?!" The auburn-haired man wondered what was wrong. Had the women already told him about his reputation? About how he had no friends and was a nightmare to work with? Fuck, here he was, actually planning to try when the bastard already was trying to judg—

"I'm sorry."

Huh? Well, that wasn't what he had expected. Lovino blinked at the apologizing man, who had stepped away from the desk to stand next to them.

"You see, where I come from people are close and have no sense of personal space or private life. I tend to forget that Americans aren't the same way." He laughed, rubbing the back of his head, "Oh, but I put everything away!"

Oh. That's what he meant. Lovino looked back at his desk and found that the man was right—It was spotless, as if no one had even touched it. In fact, it even looked better than when Lovino had cleaned. Not that he'd ever admit that.

Well at least everything looked norm—wait. Why wasn't he more upset about this?! That Spanish idiot and his stupid grin…

"Uh...just don't do it again. Got it, bastard?"

Well, he couldn't stop that one. The word 'bastard' and 'Lovino' were best friends in the dictionary. Holding up his hands in defeat, Antonio shot him a cute boyish smile.

"Of course not, Lovino."

Lovino eyed the amicable smile on the bastard's face and clenched his teeth. That expression annoyed him somehow. Why was he so happy? It was almost…too friendly.

"Whatever." He muttered, crossing his arms and looking away.

"I'm Antonio, by the way. Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo." Titling his head a little, the Spaniard held out a tan, worn hand. Lovino guessed he wasn't lying about the fields. "I am looking forward to working together!"

The Italian glared at his outstretched hand skeptically, making no move to shake it or reject it. One look from his boss had him releasing a sigh, taking the warm hand and giving it a proper shake.

"Okay. Let's not try to kill each other, yeah?" The Spaniard let out a sweet laugh, one that put a small smirk on the Italian's face.

Yes, he would listen to his boss' words and see if the Spaniard wasn't half-bad. Not only did he not want to change partners soon, but he also needed his hands on that folder that his boss had shown him. So Lovino Vargas would play nice.

…Well, as nice as he could get.

Arthur looked over the new duo, which was sizing each other up—though possibly for different reasons. Massaging his forehead for what felt like the thirtieth time that week, Arthur interrupted them.

"All right, all right. It's good to see you two getting along, but we have work to do."

With the release of their long handshake, Lovino and Antonio nodded, following their boss as he took them to the cubical next to Lovino's.

"This is where you will be working, Carriedo. You will be placed next to each other in order to ease communication and collaboration on cases. Understood?"

The duo nodded again, Antonio placing his messenger bag in his desk seat and Lovino standing off to the side. Pulling out something from his pocket, Arthur handed Antonio what appeared to be his badge. Lovino thought back to when he first received his—a time when he was just a year out of the academy who had finally achieved something on his own. It was truly a monumental moment in his life—one that would change his future forever.

Antonio felt the badge's grooves and nicks, smoothing his thumb across the shiny metal which gave him the power to protect the people. The scowl on Lovino's face almost disappeared when he saw the man looked up, something shining in his eyes and a proud smile on his lips.

"Gracias, chief."

Not one for public displays of emotion, Arthur coughed and waved him off.

"Not a problem. Now I expect both of you to be working together for a long time, so I want you both to spend the rest of the day getting to know each other. "

What? His boss had to be joking. He still had a ton of files to go over! Lovino stepped forward, thinking of a way to wiggle out of this. "But, chief—" However, after working with Lovino for four years, Arthur knew the objection was coming.

"Don't worry about it. I've already asked Bondevik and Densen to cover you."

Lovino's mouth gaped open. Not only was his boss letting him take the day off, but he was letting those Nordic bastards work on one of his cases?! Oh, fuck no.

The man was ready to protest when he felt a gentle but firm grip on his shoulder.

"That sounds great. Right, Lovino?" If looks could kill, Antonio would have been have been slaughtered a thousand times over. But…the way the man looked at him with such genuine, happy eyes made him reconsider his plea. Did he really want that sparkle to disappear from them? Not that he really cared. It didn't matter how the bastard would feel anyway. More importantly, Lovino wouldn't have minded a day off after all the work he put into his last case. Casually shaking the hand off of him, the Italian crossed his arms and scowled.

"I guess it's fine."

Arthur blinked and stared at Lovino, expecting him to put up more of a fight. His eyes shifted upwards to the smiling man beside him. His mind trailed back to his conversation with his old blonde friend.

"Ah, you should have said so earlier! If you're looking for someone who can handle this feisty boy of yours, Spain is the perfect fit." Arthur groaned. After all these years, Francis still hadn't grown up.

"Ugh, can we just use real names? Whoever came up with the idea to use countries as cover names was a bloody idiot…"

A gasp was heard over the phone. "Mon ami, I am hurt! I assure you it was one of my most brilliant ideas!"

"I figured it was you…" Arthur muttered under his breath before raising his voice, "Anyway, are you sure Antonio can handle such a job?"

"Of course! He may not act like it, but he is quite the fighter. And with someone who has a-ah, how would you say it?-difficult personality, he won't even notice a thing."

The British man sighed, "I'm hoping so. He's a good kid, but finding him someone he can actually work with is a bloody hell. Blimey, i've even had to resort to asking you of all people for help."

"You strike my heart every time you belittle me, mon cher."

"Oh, go jump of a cliff, will you?"

Coming out of his thoughts, Arthur re-focused his mind on the duo in front of him. Was it possible that this guy was really capable of taming the wild Lovino? Thinking back on all the trouble Lovino had caused just in his time at the office made him hesitate. Well…it was too soon to tell.

"Splendid. You are, therefore, dismissed. Good day."

Lovino watched his boss spin around and head back to his office, a clear slam of the door indicating that he id not wish to be disturbed.

The silence that usually hung between him and his partners was something Lovino was used to. He didn't want to be there any more than they wanted to be there with him, and he wasn't afraid of showing that. What use did he have in being courteous? When Arthur had left them standing in front of their desks alone, suddenly forced to work with each other, he anticipated the awkward silence.

So when Antonio turned to him, big smile and all, and bombarded him with questions like he was actually eager to spend time with him, Lovino was at a loss.

"So do you know any good places? I'm still unpacking so I haven't been able to explore the area. But I figure you'd know since you've been here longer."

Lovino looked over the Spaniard. Now that he was standing, Antonio's true height exposed itself, along with the many elegant features of his body, like the way his muscles flexed through his striped shirt as he moved, his long neck that was the same creamy tan color as the rest of his skin, the dimples on the sides of his cheeks, probably from smiling too much, and, most of all, those bright emerald eyes that seemed to peer into your very soul.

Lovino had always been good at noticing things about people. When he wasn't yelling about something, he was usually quiet, and quiet meant he could use that time to figure a person out and recognize their patterns and weaknesses. He was never surprised by how much someone revealed about themselves based on observing them for a little while. People tried to hide their quirks or pet peeves, but, to Lovino, it was like reading an open book.

Antonio, however, was one person he couldn't figure out at one glance. Lovino knew that he was the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but there was something hidden behind those green eyes that he couldn't decipher. As for his actions, just when Lovino thought he was going to do one thing, he did another. Lovino tried to ignore the stupid expression on the Spaniard's face.

...well, at least he was still an idiot.

"We can go to Alessio's Café. It's close and fairly decent." Luckily Lovino's brain could function on its own when Lovino was doing him observations. He couldn't count the amount of times it had saved his ass in the office or a dangerous situation.

Antonio nodded in agreement with his suggestion and grabbed his messenger bag off the chair.

"All right. Let's get going!" He linked arms with the Italian, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Now? Bastard, let go of me!" He tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but the Spaniard wouldn't budge and only gave him a confused look.

"What, why?" The question earned him an eye roll and a large shove. Now free, Lovino rubbed his arm gently. The bastard my have looked harmless, but he sure had a strong grip.

"I still need to grab my bag. Hold your fucking horses."

A quick visit to his cubicle and a look at his semi-full wallet confirmed that the Italian was ready. Lovino casually walked up to Antonio, who had trouble staying still. Lovino cocked his head. Thing to note: possible ADHD.

"Now we can go."

Lovino let the eager man drag him out of the office pretty easily, but not before getting a few whacks in. Impatient bastard.

~x~

"Wow! This place is great! Where do you think they get their vegetables? They're delicioso! Should I ask, or is that rude? Lovino?"

Lovino wanted to smack his head on the table. Here they were, at a respectable café he showed his face to at least two times a week (well, not anymore), and the man across from him was acting like a fucking child in a candy store. He was supposed to be out with a co-worker, not taking care of some man-child! Antonio gushed over every little thing—the outside of the place, the layout, the food (he ordered Melanzane, while Lovino ordered Penne Bolognese), the ingredients, and every little thing that reminded him of his home country. Which was apparently everything.

With a sigh, Lovino lowered his voice to a growl, attempting to avoid the attention of curious on-lookers, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Like way too fucking much?"

Antonio halted his musings, surprised by the random question. Well, at least it got him to focus on something. Instead of looking ashamed like Lovino had anticipated with direct confrontation, the man only chuckled, casually laying his arm over the back of his wooden chair.

"Ah, was I? Sometimes I get too caught up in the moment and just start speaking whatever comes to mind." Antonio ran a hand through his chocolate locks before looking up at a perplexed Lovino. The Italian blinked-was that nervousness he saw in his partner's eyes? Was Antonio acting shy?

Taking a large bite of pasta, Lovino looked out the window away from the brunette. "Ah, well, k-keep it to a minimum. I don't need you screwing up a case with that big mouth of yours."

The Spaniard smiled, raising his fork to place a few bites of his dish in his mouth. "Sure thing! So tell me about you, Lovi! Your interests, your family, your sibl-"

"No." he growled out instantly, clutching his own fork tighter than he should have.

The air suddenly turned cold around the two men. Lovino sent a menacing glare that practically said 'don't say another fucking word' at the man across from him, who seemed curious about the Italian's abrupt answer.

"But I want to know about you, since we're going to be partners. Shouldn't I know some background about who i'm going to be working with on a daily basis?"

Antonio was right. He was completely right. Working together didn't function if you didn't know anything about the other person. Their hopes, fears, strengths, and weaknesses were all essential to understanding how to work best with your partner. But learning those things about someone implied trust. Trust that person wouldn't betray you, and trust that they wouldn't use that information against you.

Lovino had learned not to trust people. He couldn't imagine letting anyone in or knowing about him, and had been contently living his life free of trust for years. Until now.

Putting down his fork, Lovino placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward to give the Spaniard a dark, intimidating look.

"Ok, bastard. Let's set a few ground rules if we're going to be working together," Lovino waited for the brunette's full attention before continuing, "We are not to tell each other anything about our private lives unless it is necessary. I don't really need to know about you and you don't really need to know about me. I'm good at my job and if you get in my way, i'll punch you in the balls. That's all you should know. Is that clear?"-Antonio nodded hastily-"Good. Another thing-you should always listen to my directions. I've been here for four years, and i've seen a lot of shit go down. I don't need your air-headed ass fucking up the mission if you can't stay focused. And lastly," Lovino locked eyes with the Spaniard, sending him his most threatening glare yet. "No fucking nicknames. I am not Lovi, or Lov, or whatever the hell you could come up with. I am just Lovino. Got it?"

There, that should keep the idiot in check. Lovino felt both exhausted and relieved after that whole speech. He always did. Trying to get people to do what you want them to do was both annoying and stressful, and often they really couldn't be controlled. That's why he stuck to cats, dammit!

He looked over his new partner for his reaction. From his previous behavior, Lovino would have expected the man to be upset or even cry. Hell, someone who gawked at pigeons and tried grab one ("But Lovi-back in Spain, the birds let us hold them.") just had to be a bawler! He had seemed like a sensitive man-one who couldn't take criticism or confrontation. He had probably grown up on his happy little field, tending to his home-grown crops and eating with his loving family. He probably never had a bad day in his life. Indeed, it wasn't hard for Lovino to peg him as such.

But yet again, the Italian was thrown off when the man's expression turned from shock to confusion to a slight smirk.

"I don't really understand your feelings, amigo, but i'll comply with your demands. For now." Antonio shot the shocked Italian a bright smile, "You know, you're more interesting than I thought you'd be. I like it."

Now, Lovino wasn't one to succumb to embarrassment often. He avoided those situations like the plague, and the people that caused them as well. But when someone says those types of things out of the blue, he knew he couldn't avoid or hide the red that was spreading all over his face and down his neck.

"Ah! You look like a tom-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP."

~x~

Somewhere in Chicago...

The light was sucked away from the room as the sun disappeared over the mountains. Even with no light, the occupant of the room made no indication of rising out of his chair. The man looked out of the panorama-like view at the city below him, which bustled with thousands of cars, buildings, and people carrying on with their daily lives.

A few shuffling noises and curses from outside the door to the office indicated that someone else was trying to enter the room, but, still, the person made no move to answer it.

"Stupid lock—fuck—aha!"

The door swung open, revealing a man who kicked the door in frustration. Entering the room, the dark-haired man moved to flip on the lights—

"Leave it."

His fingers lingered on the light switch while his eyes attempted to adjust to the darkness to see the man at the desk. He found it eerie that the man had not turned around to see him reach for it in the first place. The man swallowed.

"Ah…boss. Good evening." He said, cautious to take any steps further. The man seemed to sense his hesitance.

"Come here." He waited for the hesitant man to walk over to his desk before continuing, "I have been told that you failed your mission."

A "tck" escaped from the man's lips as he ran a hand through his slicked back hair. "Yeah, but I couldn't handle him! He's a nightmare. I see why you want him dead."

The man sitting in the chair snickered, sending a shiver down the other man's spine. He didn't like the sound of that.

"He was…too much to handle? It was your job to handle him." Spinning the chair around, the man held a dangerous glint in his eyes. "And now, I'm going to handle you."

"Wait—what—" Two hands came out of the darkness, wrapping tightly around the dark-haired man's arms. The man struggled against the large, bulky men who held him captive as the man in the chair stood up. A shiny silver pistol in his hand sparkled in the moonlight, taunting the terrified hostage.

"No, no, no, no, no—please."

The gunman's face was devoid of emotion as he raised the pistol towards the pleading man.

His voice dripped with venom as he spoke, "Good-bye, 'Detective Roberts'…"

The man's pleas and screams were silenced as a shot rang out in the dark. The two men dragged the now limp man out a door on the left, leaving the last occupant alone with his smoking gun. Placing the gun back into its place in a locked drawer, the man pressed a black button on the side of his desk. A moment later, a woman holding a clipboard walked into the room.

"You requested me."

Unmoving, the man stared down at the city once again. It always held such little, little people. Yet, he was a god compared to them.

"Yes, I want Lovino Vargas gone."

The woman scribbled down a few things before looking back up. "Done. Anything else?"

"That will be all."

The door closing behind her told the man that he was by himself once again.

Yes, it was time. He would bring down the Vargas empire—and it began with taking out the troublesome little Italian detective.

Thank you for reading. :) Stay tuned!