Author's Note: Well, I'm glad you guys seem to like it so far! Here's the next chapter.
"Francis Bonnefoy," Arthur began, placing his hands down flat on the desk's surface. "Is the son of a wealthy businessman. His father died when he was young and he took over the family business. He is an eccentric art collector, with summer homes all over the world and a main home in the south of France. I want you to steal this."
Arthur pushed a piece of paper across his desk and Matt took it from him. It was a clear, high-definition picture of a grand old, Renaissance-style room, all golds and reds and tapestry hung walls. It looked like a miniature museum, crammed full of statues, books, furniture, glass cases full of old and precious things. Nothing jumped out at Matt as being particularly important, and he paused in realization.
"What, steal the whole room?" he asked.
Arthur nodded, completely serious.
"Everything in it?" Matt asked again. "H-how much would that be worth?"
Arthur paused with a smile. "Around seventy million dollars, in total." he replied.
Matt's jaw dropped. "M-Mr. Kirkland," he began. "I don't have any experience in stealing things. I can't even hop a fence without great difficulty, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to - "
"This room," Arthur interrupted, "is located on the second floor of Mr. Bonnefoy's estate and is protected by almost every security measure one could think of. The windows are bullet-proof and unable to open. It is equipped with state of the art motion detectors, security cameras, and a vault door that requires three codes. Most of these precautions are electronically controlled through the security control center in the estate. We need someone who is skilled in the management of computers and knows a fair bit about hacking. That's where you come in."
"But why fly me, specifically, all the way from Canada?" Matt demanded. "Couldn't you have hired someone a bit more experienced?"
"I don't just hire anyone." Arthur told him grimly. "In this business, people talk. They backstab and rat each other out. The only reassurance one has is family. Blood ties, you understand? For such a last-minute decision, you were a logical choice."
"Plus we saw your photo beforehand, which helped." Gilbert piped up. Matt cast a quizzical glance at Arthur, who rolled his eyes.
"In order to disable the security system, you'd have to either be Bonnefoy himself, or someone who worked closely with the system. Meaning we're going to plant you in the Bonnefoy residence as an employee in order to gain access to security."
"It's nice for you because Bonnefoy likes his boys pretty, if you know what I mean." Gilbert cackle. He was sharply elbowed by Alfred.
"What?" Matt exclaimed.
"We wouldn't dream of asking you to do something like that!" Arthur spoke loudly over the different voices. "But I will admit, with Bonnefoy's...known tastes...it helps for our purpose that you are rather attractive."
Matt wasn't sure how to take that.
"S-so, I somehow have to get hired by Bonnefoy, gain his trust, than break into his security room to disable it?" Matt confirmed.
"It's easier than you think," Arthur told him. "Gilbert's our communication's man."
"I've got a contact in Bonnefoy's lower staff," Gilbert explained. "She'll interview you for a job - you'll get it, no problem."
"Look, just give him a break, guys!" Alfred interjected. "Give him some time to think this over - "
"Nice of you to consider my feelings now." Matt muttered a bit vindictively. Alfred sent him an exasperated look.
"Matt, it's really not the time for that!" his brother groaned. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this, but I didn't know how else to call!"
Matt didn't know what to say - instead he removed his glasses and massaged the space between his eyebrows with two fingers. No one said anything for a moment.
Finally Matt replaced his glasses and asked solemnly, "What if I refuse?"
Arthur rolled a fountain pen absently around his desk. "Don't." he suggested. Ivan shifted in his seat, and if Matt had turned to look at him he would guess the Russian was smiling.
"We have a month and a half before you need to pull off the heist." Arthur continued. "There's no time to find a replacement. I would strongly advice you to take the job."
"I don't believe this." Matt exhaled, then paused. "Why only a month and a half?"
"Because I don't have time to pay you to sit on your arse!" Arthur snapped suddenly.
Gilbert wiggled his eyebrows at Matt and leaned forward in his seat. "Kirkland and Bonnefoy, they don't really like each other." the red-eyed man told him. His voice also had the lilt of a German accent, though it wasn't as thick as his brother's. "So Kirkland wants to humiliate Bonnefoy by having us rip him off while he'd throwing this big party in a month 'n a half." Arthur sent him a look and the Prussian man shut up.
Arthur was expecting them to steal seventy million dollars worth of valuables (most of which came in the unfortunate and hard to conceal shapes of statues and paintings) from an impenetrable room while the owner held a lavish party in the house with hundreds of witnesses present.
Matt heaved a sigh. "This is going to be a ridiculous job." he informed Arthur, who smiled.
"Which is why I hired you to do it for me." he pointed out, then rose to his feet.
"Welcome to the team Matthew. Gentlemen, you have your job. I bid you goodnight."
Alfred followed Matt to his room in an attempt to talk to him. Matt was doing his best to ignore his brother until he got lost in the immense expanse of Arthur's mansion and Alfred had only agreed to lead him back if Matt would promise to listen to him.
"Do you think I'm a horrible person?" Alfred ask when they got back to Matt's room, closing the door and leaning against it as if he was worried Matt would try an escape attempt. Matt looked over at him. His brother was chewing nervously on his lower lip, eyes wide with anticipation. Alfred had been absolutely adorable when he was a child, and he had kept his youthful good looks into his adulthood, using them liberally to his advantage. Matt sighed.
"Of course I don't." he answered, and Alfred's shoulders dropped in relief. Feeling a bit more relaxed now, Alfred took a few steps into the room, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the bed. Once he was confident enough that Matt wasn't going to kick him out, he continued.
"I know I did a really shitty thing, not talking to you for five years then keepin' you in the dark about what I wanted and forcing a decision on you." Alfred's eyes were begging for forgiveness - he looked suspiciously like Kumajirou. Matt wondered idly if his brother had learned that from his dog, or vice versa.
"I didn't know the guys were gonna be so harsh - and for the record, just ignore Gil, most of the time he's talking out his ass. It's just...they had asked me if I knew someone who was knowledgeable with computers who was also loyal and reliable. And I thought...you know, you were my best friend growing up and I told them I never trusted anyone as much as I trust you, Matty."
Oh. He was good. Matt had forgotten the guilty, heart-melting feeling that came with a sorry Alfred.
"And I would never ask you to do this if I thought it was dangerous," Alfred continued earnestly. "Like, if they asked for a smart, reliable computer whiz who was also willing to shoot a sniper rifle into a crowd of people, I wouldn't of even thought of calling you..."
"Do you often require someone to shoot a sniper rifle into a crowd of people?" Matt asked in disbelief. Alfred, realizing his mistake, blinked a couple of times.
"No! Not...often." he admitted. Matt threw up his hands in exasperation.
"This is ridiculous." he declared. "Just tell me, once I...shut off this doohickey, is that all I'll have to do?"
"Absolutely!" Alfred nodded, voice suddenly full of enthusiasm. "You won't even be part of the actual heist, me and Gilbert and Ludwig and Kiku and Ivan will take care of it all."
"And once this job's done, I can just wash my hands of everything? Walk away from it without getting into trouble?" Matt realized the implications of his questions a split second before he watched Alfred's face fall.
"Yeah, Matty." his brother said miserably. "You can go back to your life. Afterwards, I won't bother you again."
"Alfred!" Matt exclaimed. "You know that's not what I meant. I'm just...new at this, eh? I'm scared something will go wrong. I don't want to go to jail."
Alfred's eyes lit up. "Hey, no worries!" he reached over to ruffle Matt's hair, something Matt was beginning to find very annoying. "I'm a pro, you'll see. Everything'll be smooth sailing. Plus you'll be rolling in dough by the end of it." Alfred beamed, looking so happy Matt had to crack a smile.
"I'll take your word for it." he scoffed, and Alfred flashed him a thumbs up.
"Hey, I gotta run, bro, but get some sleep, okay? We have a busy day ahead of us." he winked, snuck in another ruffle of Matt's hair, and left the room.
Matt desperately wished for a drink.
Stepping out of his room a couple of minutes later, he caught the tail end of a conversation being carried out by Toris and Alfred.
" - such a nice man, I really don't think you should be putting him at risk like this." Toris was hissing, sounding uncharacteristically forceful.
"I can take care of him Toris, you know I will!" Alfred insisted.
"Alfred." the lack of formality sounded foreign on Toris's tongue. "I hope you know what you're doing."
Their voices grew faint as they moved down the hallway.
"Of course I do!" Alfred's voice boomed, but Matt had known his brother long enough to recognize the tremor of uncertainty present. When he couldn't hear their voices anymore, Matt closed his door quietly and crossed the hallway, knocking on the opposite door.
When Ivan opened it, Matt asked, "Do you have any more of that vodka?"
It could of have been Matt's imagination, but both he and Ivan had been downing drinks for the past hour and a half, and Ivan seemed to be completely unaffected by the copious amounts of alcohol he had just consumed. The Russian had pulled his chair up to the side of the bed and was sitting there grinning, leaning his elbows on his knees. Matt, for his part, could hardly sit up straight on the bed, lying on his back and giggling through his fingers.
"Wh-what the hell, Braginski?" he managed. "You're a tank. You can really hold your alcohol, eh?"
Ivan smirked. "It is good Russian vodka," he answered. "You must have a good head for it. It is too strong for Matthew?"
Matt scowled and pushed his curly hair from his eyes. "You're always so patronizing." he accused, and promptly fell off the bed at Ivan's feet. He felt Ivan reach down and place a big palm against his cheek - it was cool against Matt's hot flesh, and the inebriated blonde let out a breath against the carpet.
"Oh, дорогай." Ivan's voice rumbled deliciously in Matt's ears. "Do you need me to take care of you?"
"No." Matt pouted into the carpet.
A chuckle. Ivan's hands slipped under Matt's armpits and lifted him effortlessly to his feet.
"Thanks." Matt tried to say, but instead it came out as, "You think, if I do this job really well, my brother will come back and we'll be a family again?"
Shit, Matt thought, but before he could try again Ivan sat him back down on the bed and knelt before him, gripping his shoulders so the younger man didn't topple over.
"дорогай." Ivan began. "Sometimes family does not always mean that you will be together."
"Not true." Matt denied, trying to tug Ivan's hands off him and rise to his feet. In response, Ivan suddenly pushed him on his back and loomed over him so he couldn't try to leave again.
"Matthew, do not feel like your brother abandoned you." Ivan told him, and even in his drunken state, Matt recoiled from the words.
"I don't think - " he began.
"Yes you do." Ivan interrupted. "I know because you and me, we are the same, Matthew. When I was young my mother and father died. My older sister Katya took care of me and our baby sister Natalia. When we got older she left us. I did not forgive her for that, for many years. I did not like being alone and I felt she had betrayed me. It never occurred to me that she had been selfless most of her life by putting her siblings before her own happiness. When she tried to live her own life, I...I overreacted. I said some things that I wish I didn't. Your brother may have left you but that does not mean he has forgotten you, Matthew."
Matt stared up at the tall man, lost for words. "I - Ivan." he murmured breathlessly, and something in the man's violet eyes changed.
"Do you get lonely, дорогай?" he purred, sliding a hand up Matt's side, and the younger man let him, reason numbed with alcohol.
"Sometimes." he admitted. "Do you?"
"Very often, ever since I left my sisters to go to London." Ivan hummed, tucking a wisp of Matt's hair behind his ear. "But lonely people must find each other, yes?"
Just as Ivan's fingers reached for the buttons of Matt's dress shirt, a voice sang out, "Jones is gonna kill yo-u-u-u!"
Ivan snatched his fingers away, growling something under his breath, and disappeared out of Matt's vision. The bespectacled blonde propped himself up on one elbow and saw a smirking red-eyed man sitting comfortably in the abandoned chair by the bed, his own glass of vodka in hand.
"Gilbert?" Matt asked. "When did you get here?"
The Prussian's smile got wider. "Liebling, I let myself in about twenty minutes ago, and neither of you noticed. You are obviously too drunk to acknowledge even my awesomeness, and Ivan is doing some very naughty things that you should not do with your teammate's younger brother." Gilbert sipped at the alcohol, making a face at the way it burned his throat on the way down. "Great party you have here. Am I interrupting something?"
Matt realized he was directing this question at Ivan, who was standing rather unsteadily by the bed, looking between Gilbert and Matt.
"No, not at all." the Russian man said with a forced smile.
"Oh, good!" Gilbert laughed, and propped his feet up on the bed. Matt stared at him blankly. Ivan caught this and gripped under his armpits again.
"I think, Matthew." he said. "That you should go to your room and rest. I very much enjoyed talking to you."
"Me too." Matt tried to slur as he was hoisted bodily across the room and out the door. Ivan scooped him up as if he were a doll and deposited him in his own room.
"Thank you, Ivan." Matt finally managed to say something coherent. "You have...very nice..." he was torn between Ivan's fantastic vodka and his fantastic eyes. "...vodka." he finished lamely. Ivan cocked his head.
"I will pretend that is Canadian slang." he cooed. "And I am very happy you think so. Good night, дорогай."
"Guh." said Matt, collapsing onto the bed.
Ivan left him after that, and when Matt woke up the next morning his head was pounding, his clothes were wrinkled, and he couldn't remember half of what had gone on last night. He did, however, remember Gilbert being there, though that could have been part of the dream he had where he was climbing a wall a la Mission Impossible and his suction cups had given way.
Matt groaned, rolled over, realized he was about to become involved in a heist to steal a bounty of seventy million dollars, groaned again, and got up to go for a shower.
When he came out of the bathroom, dripping wet and with a towel around his waist, he jumped when he saw Gilbert looking through his suitcase.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Matt demanded. Gilbert looked over.
"Hey. How'd you sleep?" he asked. "You have a headache?"
"Yes." Matt muttered. And you're not making it any better, he added silently as the red-eyed man grinned and gave him the thumbs up.
"You were pretty far gone last night." Gilbert commented.
"Was I?" Matt asked nervously. "I - what did I do?"
"Oh...nothing much." Gilbert's smile was wicked. "Took off your clothes, danced on the table top."
Matt gaped, and eventually the Prussian rolled his eyes. "I'm kidding." he intoned. "You just lost your motor coordination. You okay?"
Gilbert's voice was horribly loud this morning, and Matt winced with each harsh syllable. He was beginning to think that Alfred had some competition for the "worst person to talk to when one has a hangover" award.
"Yeah...you have any aspirin or something?"
Gilbert dug around in his pocket and tossed a small bottle at him. "Here ya go. Better than aspirin. It'll clear that head right up."
Dubiously, Matt shook out a few small pills from the bottle, and gave it back. "Hold on, I'll get some water."
"And put some pants on while you're at it!" Gilbert called after him as he walked back to the bathroom. "You're cute, but not really my type!"
"Gilbert!" Matt exclaimed, mortified, and shut the bathroom door on the man's laughing face so he could pull on his jeans. Taking a gulp of water from the bathroom tap in order to down the pills, he scampered out into the room in order to tug on a shirt.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, subconsciously zipping up his suitcase from Gilbert's prying eyes.
"I'm here to take you to breakfast. Arthur's out at a meeting but we can take the opportunity to talk about the heist."
"Okay." Matt said hesitantly. "Let's go."
"Thank God!" Gilbert bounded to his feet. "I'm starving!"
Matt followed the man down to the lower dining room. Toris and Raivis were bringing in food, and Ludwig and Kiku were already seated. Alfred and Ivan were absent.
"Good morning, Matthew." Kiku greeted quietly, dipping his head so his sheet of shiny black hair fell in front of his ears. Ludwig didn't look up.
"Good morning." Matt answered, and Gilbert prodded him into the spot he had at dinner before sitting down next to his brother.
"Yo, West," he nudged his brother. "Pass the bacon."
"Gilbert, it's closer to you than it is to me." Ludwig pointed out - he had a newspaper folded on the table and was reading the business section. Gilbert pouted.
"But We-e-est!" he whined.
"West?" Matt asked Kiku, who nodded.
"Their parents divorced when they were young," the Japanese man explained. "They received separate custody. Ludwig lived with his father on the west side of their city and Gilbert lived on the east side with their mother. It's sort of their nicknames for each other."
"Oh." Matt sat and watched the two brothers bicker - or, rather, Gilbert annoy his brother and Ludwig diligently attempted to read the newspaper.
"Where's Ivan? And Alfred?" Matt asked as he poured himself some coffee.
"What an interesting question." Gilbert interjected, elbowing his brother again. Ludwig managed to not spill his coffee on the current events.
"Stop doing that." he told Gilbert.
"Alfred is usually always late to breakfast." Kiku spoke up. "I do not know where Ivan is."
"I am here." the voice behind Matt made him crane his head. The Russian man took a seat next to Matt and reached across the table for some scrambled eggs. His eyes looked a little bloodshot, but he seemed to give no indication of a hangover.
"Good morning, Ivan." Kiku greeted. "How are you?"
Ivan gave a grunt. "Good enough. How are you?"
"Fine." was Kiku's answer, and Matt noticed the awkward silence that fell over the table, broken only by the rustling of the newspaper.
Then Ivan turned to Matt and smiled. "You are also good, Matthew?"
"Yes. Thank you." Matt gave a hesitant smile in return. "I...hope I didn't leave a bad impression with my behavior last night. I don't really remember anything."
"No?" Ivan glanced at Gilbert, then back at Matt. "You do not need to worry, Matthew. You were very...adorable, yes? That is the word?"
"What's happening?" Alfred had appeared behind them, clutching the back of Matt's chair. He was fixing Ivan with a sharp stare, and Ivan smiled sweetly.
"Ah, Alfred." he greeted. "So good of you to join us."
"Yeah, well..." Alfred didn't finish that thought, just plopped down in a seat and started piling food on his plate.
Matt watched his brother with amusement. "You gonna eat all of that?" he asked his brother.
"Of course I am." Alfred declared through a mouthful of food.
There was another silence as the men ate breakfast. Toris drifted in and out, refilling coffee and taking away empty plates. Matt wasn't used to eating this much at one sitting, and was soon sitting contentedly, watching the rest of them eat.
"So is this like Ocean's Eleven or something?" he asked his brother. Alfred paused halfway through trying to steal bacon off Gilbert's plate, to which the white-haired man frowned.
"What?" Alfred asked. Gilbert tried to upturn Alfred's coffee into his lap in return but was stopped by Ludwig.
"I mean, when you pull a heist do you guys have specific...jobs? Or do you all just do whatever?" Matt flushed red at the looks he was getting.
Alfred smirked at his brother's expression, then pointed his fork at Ludwig. "Ludwig is our weapons specialist. He's in charge of anything we might need in case of extra...persuasion. Gil, he's our "connections man". Usually he can get us what he needs through people he knows. Kiku works mainly with external communication, to keep us connected to each other throughout a job. Ivan's the getaway driver, I guess..."
"I do more than pull up outside with a van, you know." Ivan interrupted, a bit of an offended look on his face. "I'm responsible for transportation, without me - "
"Yeah, yeah." Alfred moaned. "I've heard it all before. I'm just trying to break it down for Matty."
There was a pause. "What're you, then, Al?" Matt inquired. The other men at the table exchanged exasperated looks, with plenty of eye rolling. Alfred's grin got bigger, and he took a deep breath.
"Why, I'm the hero, of course!"
END CHAPTER THREE.
Translations:
дорогай - "darling" in Russian (thank you to hyperthermophile for the correction!)
Liebling - "darling" in German
Author's Note: Thanks for reading, I'll try my best to update as soon as I can!