Thanks again to Tortugas-and-Lovi for editing this chapter!

disclaimer: still no.

warnings: clichés, language, bad writing, and fail!Scottish accents.

Chapter 3
A Missing Queen
[The Faerie Queen I]

Arthur awoke to the beautiful sounds of chirping birds and loud curses.

"Kesese, be more careful, Roddy~"

"If you don't shut up right now - "

"Quiet! I think he's awake!"

Silence.

Arthur opened his eyes. He didn't try to feign sleep. What was the point if they already knew he was awake? Instead, he carefully reached for the small pebble he always kept under his white pillow and threw it at one of the intruders. Not looking to see if it hit, he jumped out of bed and reached for his gun (he had a license, thank you very much). He pointed it at the three intruders. His faeries woke up at the sounds and hovered behind him. They did not seem too alarmed.

One of the intruders was a bespectacled, brown-haired man with a beauty mark on his chin. He wore a slightly old fashioned attire of fancy black pants, a blue coat, and a shirt with a sort-of cravat on the neckline. The other two - a woman wielding a frying pan and an albino man with red eyes - looked vaguely familiar. Where had he seen them?

… They were his co-workers. They were fighting last night. The woman had won.

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment?" Arthur snarled. He glanced at the clock. "It's four in the fucking morning!"

The woman stepped up. Arthur turned his gun on her, and she backed off quickly. "Drop the frying pan."

She narrowed her eyes. Arthur felt a strange sort of foreboding crawl along his spine. Do not mess with me, the look said. "Arthur Kirkland, yes? You look like the man from yesterday. Gilbert, if this isn't the man, I swear to God I will hit your head so hard - "

"It's him!" the albino - Gilbert - insisted. "I recognise the eyebrows."

"Oi!" Arthur said loudly.

The bespectacled man cleared his throat. He glanced at Gilbert as if he was ashamed to be within five feet of him. "We're very sorry, but you need to come with us right now. We have a job - "

"Mission!" Gilbert interrupted.

" - for you," he completed, glaring at the red-eyed man.

Arthur glanced at the clock again. 4:01 am. Saturday. He only had four hours of sleep. Then again, he could work with less sleep than this. And he was used to waking up at odd hours of the night for an "extremely important mission" that could "save the lives of, like, seven people, Arthur!"

Why did he accept the promotion again?

A faerie poked his cheek. "Because you wanted to meet other people like you."

"Pack lightly," the Hungarian woman added.

"'Kay! Artie!" Alfred was much too alert for someone who looked like they just got out of bed. He was dressed in a black graphic t-shirt, a pair of pajama pants, and his hair was mussed to the point where it was even messier than Arthur's.

They were in the lounge. The poor bloke responsible for cleaning up after the party had done a fantastic job; the room was virtually spotless. There was no sign that a wild party had just taken place a few hours before. Beside him and Alfred, only one other person was in the room, and it was none other than the blasted frog, Francis Bonnefoy.

Arthur did his best to ignore him.

Alfred said that he had an office, but he didn't use it much. He preferred giving people orders (him giving out orders was both laughable and scary, like a five-year-old giving out orders to an entire regiment of soldiers) in the in person.

"Why am I here?" Arthur asked him flatly. Last night, he had seen many people treat Alfred, the head of the department, as an equal (or less). He didn't seem to mind. And if Alfred wanted to treat him like his family, then he was going to get the same treatment from Arthur.

Except, you know, Arthur didn't particularly like his family.

He didn't like Alfred either.

So.

"It's four in the morning," Alfred said, "an' I wanna leave ASAP, so I'm going to make this quick." He passed Arthur and Francis some plane tickets. "Our plane leaves in three hours. Erika said you can see faeries, so I thought this was perfect for you. We're going to go to Scotland - "

Arthur grimaced.

" - to speak to the Faerie Queen. None of your brothers are back from wherever they are, so this is up to you."

"My brothers work here?" Arthur said in disbelief.

"Yep. Can talk to faeries too, but anyways. Mischievous faerie activity's been spotted in the towns surrounding their forest habitat. Faeries are naturally mischievous, yeah, but reports of potentially-deadly faerie activity are increasing in an alarming rate. Like, bricks almost hitting an old man; a four-year-old kid 'accidentally' falling into a pond; 'mysterious' fires starting in the middle of the night. It's not funny anymore, it's dangerous. So you have to talk to the Faerie Queen and convince her to make it stop or something."

Arthur mumbled a few obscenities under his breath - talk to the Faerie Queen? Did he expect him to juts waltz up to the Queen and tell her, "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but your faeries are at risk of becoming murderers, so if you would kindly rein them in and put them in a faerie prison, that would be swell…"

"So why am I here?" Francis questioned. "I cannot see faeries."

"Because you can create illusions. For some reason, the faeries are refusing to let anyone enter their forest kingdom - like, to the point where they'll attack you if you try to get inside; and the guards are more vigilant than ever. According to reports, they won't listen to what anyone says." Alfred smirked. "To get past them, we're going to need a distraction."

"Ah!" Francis caught on. "You want me to distract them using illusions?"

"Yep. And it'd be a good chance for me to see what you guys can do."

Brilliant. Going to Scotland in the company of a French bastard and an American idiot in order to command the Faerie Queen to do something about her troublesome, murderous faeries. A dream come true. His eyebrows furrowed together in displeasure, so close that they looked like a uni-brow.

"Les sourcils, tes sourcils are about to make love, I think."

You can guess what happened next.

Arthur jumped at the Frenchman. Francis shrieked and tumbled over, bumping into a small table with a vase of flowers. The vase toppled over, spilling its contents onto a very surprised Francis.

"Mes vetements!"

Alfred intervened and pulled Arthur away from Francis, but Francis was not about to take the attack lying down. Francis launched himself at Arthur and poured the rest of the vase's contents over the Brit's head, who spluttered incoherently and wriggled free from Alfred's arms and started a mini war with Francis right then and there.

And Alfred, looking at the two clashing men, decided that he needed someone sane with him, if only to help keep those two from murdering each other before they finished the mission.

Alfred flicked the light switch of his sister's room, illuminating the small, red and white bedroom. He silently tiptoed to the edge of the red bed and poked the sleeping blonde.

"Hey, Maddie~"

"Mmm…" She shifted, burrowing deeper into her pillows. The polar bear curled beside the sleeping girl lifted her snout. She let out a little yawn before going back to sleep.

"Madeline~"

"What do you want?" she mumbled blearily. She cracked one purple eye open to glare at her brother.

"Wanna go to Scotland?"

"Go away."

"That's exactly what we're going to do."

"Alfred…"

"I need help. The new guys don't get along."

"Go. Away."

"I need you to help me keep them from killing each other."

"Get Vash to do it."

"He left for Switzerland right after the party, remember?"

Madeline groaned. "Spring Break ends in four days."

"It'll only be for three days," Alfred promised.

"And what if something goes wrong?"

"If we get held up, I'm sure Dad'll write you a note."

Another groan. "Al…"

"Please!"

"… Fine."

"Hey, guys, we have a fourth member!"

"B - Bonjour…"

"Ah! Parles-tu français~?"

"Oh great, another French - "

"Eep!"

"Back off, Frenchie!"

"Oh, bloody hell…"

They were on the plane to Scotland.

All four of the agents sat together, with Alfred and Madeline sitting in the center of the group to prevent a fight from breaking out. Arthur and Francis seemed content with the arrangement. Arthur was looking out of the window; Alfred was playing Plants Versus Zombies on his iPod; Madeline was sleeping with her bear (she somehow convinced the airport security that the thing was a stuffed toy); and Francis was totally engrossed in a French fashion magazine, occasionally letting out a couple of French comments.

Arthur fiddled with his hands. He should have brought a book. The plane was not showing a movie due to a group of very persistent mothers complaining that it was not "kid-friendly", so he was stuck staring out the window and daydreaming of ways to make this trip to Scotland as enjoyable as possible.

It was harder than he thought.

"I'm driving!"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Al."

"Why not?"

"Because - Al, don't!"

"Git!"

"Merde!"

"Whaat?"

"We drive on the other side of the road, you tosser!"

They checked into an old hotel - more like an inn, really - and, after exploring the town a little, went to bed. All of them were tired and lacking sleep, so there were no complaints when Alfred proposed getting to bed early.

"We'll be trekking through the forest tomorrow, so get some sleep!"

It was eight p.m. Arthur was on his way downstairs to get some food when he bumped into a very familiar redhead.

"Dammit."

"Guid tae see ye tae, Artair," Alistair Kirkland said dryly. "Takin' a vacation in guid ol' Scotland? Thought ye hated the place."

Arthur scowled. "Sod off, Alistair. I'm here on business."

"APH?"

"Wha - How did you know?" He was only transferred yesterday!

"They've been keepin' an eye on ye for a long time now. I figured any day now, Special Ops'll kick ye out, just like the rest o' us."

"I don't have time for this." Arthur made to move past his brother, but Alistair grabbed his sweater and said, "There's a reason we didn't help ye with yer powers."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Ye thought we neglected ye."

"Piss off - "

"We may nae be the best brothars in the world, Artair, but we dinnae wan' tae see ye die," Alistair said softly. "I'm gaein' tae assume yer here because o' the situation wi' the Faerie Queen."

"What situa - "

"Room 21 in fifteen minutes," Alistair continued, ignoring his brother. "Ye work in APH now, so ye need tae learn how tae control tha' magic o' yers if ye wan' tae survive." Alistair didn't wait for a response; he continued to trudge up the stairs and, soon enough, Arthur heard the faint crash of a door slamming shut.

"Control my powers," he muttered to himself.

"You should listen to him," a male faerie told him. "Your magical reserves are opening up; you need to know how to control it."

"… Fine."

"Clear yer mind."

"It's clear. What are you doing in Scotland, anyway?"

"Huntin' daen an insane werewolf. Happened tae pass by, saw the trouble, an' stopped to sen' a report tae Alfred. I'm takin' off tomorrow. Now, stop askin' questions and clear yer blasted head."

"It's clear."

"Isna."

"It's clear, what next?"

"Artair, we cannae dae this wi'out a clear mind."

"How am I supposed to clear my mind with you yakking the whole time?"

A sigh was heard.

Francis watched in awe as Alfred wolfed down plate after plate of breakfast foods. Eggs, bacons, sausages, toast - all had the same fate.

"Mon Dieu…"

"It takes a while to get used to," Madeline said from her plate of pancakes. She tasted a dip of syrup before making a face. "Fake."

"I wonder where Arthur is," Francis mused, delicately taking a bite of his croissant. "I saw him go into another man's room… Do you think-"

"No dirty talk during breakfast," Alfred interrupted.

Francis pouted.

Just then, British curses floated down the staircase. Arthur stumbled onto the dining room, clothes rumbled and hair messier than usual. "I have news," he mumbled.

"Artie~!" Alfred waved him over. "What's up?"

"Stop calling me that," Arthur said automatically. "And we can't talk to the Faerie Queen. She's missing."

Seeing their confused looks, Arthur said, "My brother told me that the Faerie Queen has been missing for two weeks."

"Which one?" Alfred asked.

"Alistair."

"Oh yeah," Alfred remembered. "He was the one that sent in the reports. And hunting down that werewolf."

Arthur continued, "The Faerie King is furious and, as a result, not thinking properly. He thinks that the humans kidnapped the Queen and sent his faeries to search for her in the town. Soon, the faeries grew frustrated, started to take it out on the humans, causing mayhem everywhere. Alistair tried to talk to the King, but he absolutely won't listen to reason. He reckons that the only way to stop it is to find the Queen and return her to the kingdom. He would have searched for her himself if he was not busy with the werewolf."

"So we have to find a missing Faerie Queen that none of us except Arthur can see," Alfred summarised. "Maddie, I don't think you'll be back in time for school."

She glared at him.

Francis rested his chin on a hand, looking contemplative. "This raises the question: how are we supposed to look for something we cannot see? I doubt les sourcils will be able to look for the Queen on his own."

"Alistair thought of that as well," said Arthur. "At least, partly. Before he left this morning, he gave me this." He took a picture out of his pocket and slid it to the others. It depicted the face of a plain-faced girl with short brown hair and green eyes. On the back of the picture were some notes in Alistair's lazy scrawl:

Taska Laurinaitis

Gender: Female.
Age: 25
Date of Birth: February 16th
Hair Colour: Brown
Eye Colour: Green
Father: Unknown, Lithuanian.
Mother: Unknown, Lithuanian.
Special Ability: Tracking

FIND HER.

Translations:

Les sourcils, tes sourcils... (French) - Eyebrows, your eyebrows...
Mes vetements! (French) - My clothes!
Bonjour (French) - Hello
Parles-tu français? (French) - You speak French?
Merde! (French) - Shit!
Mon Dieu... (French) - My God...

And here comes fem!Lithuania. So hey, I'm slowly teaching you guys how to speak French. If you happen to pass by France or Belgium or Québec, remember that an extremely small portion of that knowledge came from me. Also... Back stories for characters in between story arcs: Yes or No?

And guys, reviews make me happy ;) Like, a lot.