Claude has figured out how the heist occurred; now all he has to do is catch the thief. However he has a second role to fill and that is as Alois Trancy's guardian, who happens to be the owner of the stolen painting. Claude calls to see how he's doing and somehow ends up taking Alois to school the next day. Only there is something unusual going on when he arrives, Alois has never been introduced to high society.

What is Alois hiding?

What happens when Claude sees Sebastian for the first time?

What does he whisper to the captured Russian suspect?

The conversation with the Russian is translated with in the text, so read carefully. Claude speaking Russian, it fits doesn't it?

I hope you enjoy,

~Kuro

P.s. As you may have guessed I own neither Kuroshitsuji or the Thomas Crown Affair.

Chapter 4: Coincidences

Claude slowly pulled in front of the town house in which Alois currently inhabited. He had specifically paid for it just so the boy could rest and felt like he had a home to return to. In moments he was backing the Jaguar into the spot before the large town house. The air was nippy as he opened the door and stepped out into the street. He had called the percent and told them he had to run errands that morning and would there for be late. The flower beds were bare and covered with a light dusting of snow. During the spring they were usually in bloom with beautiful sky blue, blue bells, which were Alois' favorite flower. He slowly climbed up the concrete steps and rang the door bell. In a moment the front door swung open, Canterbury had answered it. He was standing in a pair of jeans and a sweater. "Ah Mr. Faustus, Alois is coming," said Canterbury, "Please come in and wait." Claude nodded and looked around the town house, it was clean and he noted that not an article was out of place. The triplets were very capable and he smiled, "How is he?' asked Claude curiously, Canterbury looked at him and smiled. His golden eyes sparkled with delight and he replied, "Better, he's excited about today though." Claude shook his head and looked up at the stairs, "Cabin fever," he commented. Canterbury laughed, "Aren't you working today?" asked Claude in confusion. Canterbury looked at him and realized Claude couldn't tell him apart from his brothers. "I don't have classes until this evening," he replied and smiled.

Golden eyes sifted to the top of the stairs when he heard a bang fallowed by a clatter. Standing at the top was a rather short blond with bright blue eyes, in Xavier High School's signature blue blazer. "Claude," he cried as he bounded down the stairs, it was apparent that Alois was thrilled to see him. Claude looked at the blonde and said, "Good morning." Alois was beaming with delight and Canterbury commented, "Alois didn't you forget something?" The teenager froze and looked at the purple haired professor in confusion, "You're bag," he commented. Alois looked at Claude who was wearing a broad smile, he held up a finger and said, "Give me a sec," before dashing through the house. Claude chuckled and shook his head, his unruly black hair swayed as he did so. "He isn't a morning person is he?" asked Claude, he was grinning. At first he thought that this whole event was going to be torture, however it proved to have some entertainment value. Alois returned with a piece of toast hanging from his mouth and bag in hand, "Thompson hasn't left yet?" he asked in confusion, and he looked down the hall way to see his brother in an apron waving a knife with a grin on his face. It was obviously meant for Claude, "Nope," said Alois through mouthfuls. The lightly browed piece of bread crumbled as he took another bite. His tie was twisted and Claude slowly slipped his fingers under Alois chin. "Tilt you head back," he instructed. Alois did so and looked at him in confusion as he felt a light tug at the back of his neck. "If you're going to wear a tie do so properly," he said as his fingers untied it, "it shows sincerity, elegance, and supremacy," he commented. Alois' blue eyes flickered over to the mirror and he watched as Claude's adept fingers began tying a Windsor knot. "Wear the school colors with pride, you're going to one of the finest school in the world," he commented as he gently slipped the knot up. Alois was impressed by his eye for detail as he straitened it a final time and looked in the mirror. Claude was wearing a vest and plum colored shirt, which oddly looked stunning on him. "There," he said as he stood beside Alois and looked in the mirror. Alois stared at Claude, he looked perfect, there wasn't a thread out of place and he hummed. "You really know how to dress Claude," he commented before turning and slipping into his coat, "I'll give you that."

Canterbury crossed his arms and shook his head playfully, "You have no idea how long he's been looking forward to this," he commented. Claude grinned and adjusted his glasses, "I'm aware," he replied coolly before following Alois out of the house. He closed the door and watched Alois as he practically skipped down the steps, he was still just as thin as he remembered. "Whoa! Whose car is that?" asked Alois, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the Jaguar. Claude pulled out the keys and unlocked the car causing the teenager to jump, "No way!" cried Alois with excitement. Like a dancer Claude walked pasted Alois and opened the door, "This is your car?" asked Alois, he stared at a pair of golden eyes. "Would you prefer that I drove the M6?" he asked cautiously. He watched in amusement as Alois's mouth popped open and he asked, "You own a BMW M6?" Claude shrugged and grinned, he had forgotten that Alois honestly believed he was broke. "Yes, now get in, you're already late," Claude said sternly. The teenager nearly jumped in the seat, which honestly amused him. Alois had lived with one of the richest men in the world, why would he get excited over a jaguar when he could have ridden in the passenger seat of a McLaren. Something was clearly off, he knew Alois from work. His father called him constantly to chase after a thief or ask for advise. Prior to his employment at London Underwriters he worked as the secretary to Alois's grandfather. He eased into the drivers seat and quickly started the car. He could feel Alois's gaze upon him as he pulled out of the spot.

The streets were busy as men and women ran to work and Claude glanced over at Alois. Small hands were wringing themselves. Alois looked as though he were going to jump out of the car any second and make a run for it. "Nervous?" asked Claude, his tone was emotionless as he turned down the next street toward the school. Alois hummed and his eyebrows knit together, "A little," he mumbled. There were swarms of navy blue blazers as students ran to get to class on time. "You'll be fine," he said with a small smile as he pulled over. Alois looked up in the rear view mirror and noticed a jet black town car behind him. It's driver immediately go out, he was a massive burly man. Alois slowly opened the car door and looked over to see Claude getting out. He walked around the nose of the car and leaned against the hood. Alois looked over to see a young man with one sapphire blue eye visible, he had slate hair and was actually a little taller than he was. "Thanks Bard," said the boy as he stepped onto the street. He was about to walk away when a melodic voice called, "Ciel." Ciel pivoted and looked at the car, as though a flower were blooming he watched a tall and slender gentleman in a pitch black suite step out. A pair of red eyes was locked on Ciel and his onyx black hair looked mussed. "Does everyone in the city look like a model?" whispered Alois as he watched the man turn and look at them. A pleasant smile caressed his lips before he returned to the comfort of his car. "No, not all," said Claude, the teenager turned to see him ridged and Alois grinned. "Was he your type?" asked Alois with a note of mischief. Claude looked at Alois and commented, "Perhaps," his lips were curved in a coy smirk.

"Oh come on Claude there's no denying it, he was a looker," said Alois and Claude simply waved him off. Alois crossed his arms and noticed the slate haired boy slowly heading toward the school, "You know what I'll ask if he's single," said Alois deviously. Claude was about to get in the car when he realized what the boy had just said. His golden eyes widened as he bolted to grab Alois before he made a fool of himself. "Hi," chirped Alois after he tapped the slate haired boy on the shoulder. He was confronted with a sapphire eye which seemed hardly enthusiastic about him saying hello. "I was kind of hoping you could tell me where the office is," said Alois with a nervous smile. The slate haired teen sighed and looked at his watch. His hand slipped into his hair and he asked, "Do you have a schedule?" Alois dug through his pockets for a moment and produced the folded sheet of paper. Ciel slowly took the page and looked at it, "You have the same homeroom I do," he commented. Alois was grinning and clapped his hands together, "Great," he chirped again. Only Ciel rolled his eye and pivoted on his heel to leave. "Wait, where are you going?" Alois panicked and Ciel looked over his shoulder before responding, "To class, unlike you I don't feel like being tardy today." Alois jumped and ran after him, however he had no idea that Claude had managed to hear that part and was now attempting to conceal his laughter.

Alois had his work cut out for him, that boy wasn't going to fall for any of Alois's cute acts. He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back down the steps. Alois was always attracted to him; however it was nice to see him chasing someone around the same age as himself for once. Claude slowly pulled into traffic and began to make his way to the precinct and chuckled, he couldn't get the image of the dark slender beauty with red eyes out of his mind. Alois was right, he was certainly Claude's type and from the looks of him he was most certainly within his strike range. It was honestly too bad he didn't pay attention to the plates to get the number off the car. The Chauffer wasn't a company one and he could tell that the boy had serious money. His phone rang a synthetic voice cracked into the car, "Text from Alois Trancy. Now Daddy, don't go dating all the mommies at daycare." Claude turned several shades red and began laughing hysterically; perhaps Alois was a good thing, even if he was a piece of work at times. Claude said, "Blue ant reply to Alois Trancy. He was male." He turned down the next block and the phone buzzed again, "Text from Alois Trancy. I said mommies for a reason. Ciel is so hot by the way," the voice said. Claude shook his head and he slowly flipped his directional on as he pulled into the precinct, "Blue ant reply to Alois Trancy. You've known him for about ten minutes, aren't you in class right now?" Claude parked the car and quickly disconnected his phone from the hands free devise and snatched it from the cup holder. As he did so it buzzed one final time and he looked at it.

Alois Trancy:

Weren't you driving? P

Claude reached into the back and grabbed his bag before closing the car door. As he did so he chuckled, it was clear Alois didn't see the little gray box hanging from the visor of his Jaguar. He locked the car and then pressed send on his phone.

Claude Faustus:

I have a hands free devise which composes text messages and emails.

He began to walk across the parking lot only for the phone to buzz again and he shook his head. He pushed open the doors to see Aberline standing in the foyer, it was clear he had just arrived. "Wife?" he asked as he looked at the phone. Claude's golden eyes glanced to him and he replied, "No ward." He opened the text and groaned.

Alois Trancy:

It doesn't make phone calls? That seems like a waste.

Claude glared at the screen and mumbled, "Smart ass." Aberline looked at him in confusion and then realized he was talking about the text message. "You seem happy," he commented and Claude looked up. He suddenly realized that Aberline was attempting to start a conversation. "Well he is an amusing teenager," he commented coolly, and like that his smile vanished and he switched to his work face. He looked over at Aberline and asked, "So we have the four men arrested from the museum?" Aberline jumped and replied, "Yup, they're in the interrogation rooms. We also picked up the guy who was waiting for them at the dock. He intended to smuggle the paintings out." Claude simply nodded and continued to walk through the halls; he had been in station after station around the world. However he had to admit the NYPD had a nice place compared to some of the other precincts he had been working in. Claude continued down the hall toward the interrogation room and was met by Randall. He shook his head and commented, "It's no use Faustus, they don't speak English, and we're in the process of getting an interpreter." Claude looked at him in confusion and asked, "What language?" Randall's eyes narrowed and he grit his teeth, "I have no idea," he responded curtly. Claude looked at the door and asked, "May I?" There was an air of confidence about him and Aberline looked at Randall. "Have at it," said Randall as he waved his hands haphazardly in the air before storming back down the hall. "He really doesn't like you," commented Aberline, as he watched his boss storm off. Claude's broad shoulders lifted and he commented, "Not many people do, give me your mug." Aberline handed him the dark blue mug which he had been cradling as they walked. "Sure," he said as he handed him the mug, "What's it for?" Before Aberline could say anything else he watched Claude push the door open.

Sitting in one of the steel chairs was a rather large Russian; he had dark hair and a pair of piercing gray eyes. Claude closed the door behind him and took a seat on the table, the mug made a tap against the table as he set it down. "Good morning," he commented as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. This action immediately got the man's attention, his eyes were locked on the red and white carton as Claude tapped one out. He held the cigarette between his fingers and asked, "Dobroye utro. Ne vozrazhayete, yesli ya zakuryu?" Gray eyes looked at the white cigarette with a brown filter, he was going to respond. Claude sighed and placed it between his lips; he wasn't going to ask twice before lighting. In reality Claude didn't smoke, he disdained it, however from the look of this man he was going through withdrawal. "Ty ne politseyskiy ne tak li?" he asked, and Claude looked down at a pair of honest gray eyes. He was well aware he didn't look like a cop, nor did he look like one. His golden eyes probed into the young man and he responded, "Net, ya rabotayu na londonskikh strakhovshchikov ."

Randall was standing behind the glass beside Aberline, "He speaks Russian," groaned Randall as he watched Claude work with the suspect. There door opened once again and a young woman entered, "I'm the interpreter, who is that?" she asked with a note of irritation. Claude glanced at the glass and smiled, it was as though he knew that she had entered. "London Underwriters?" he asked curiously, his Russian accent made each word sound nearly alien. Claude hummed and replied, "Da, etostrakhovaya firma." Aberline looked at the girl and asked, "Care to translate?" She huffed and replied, "I figured I had to, he said yes an insurance firm." Claude shifted on the table and took another drag, "Vy derzhite kontrakt, ne tak li?" asked the Russian curiously. Claude chuckled and shook his head, "He asked if he was the one who made the contract," she said. Claude smiled and looked directly at him, "Net, ya tot, kotoryy oni poslali , chtoby poluchitʹ yego obratno," Claude replied and slowly tapped the ash into the coffee cup. The suspects eyes opened and he stared, "Vy znayete, my svyazalisʹ s posolʹstvom Rossii , odnako oni ne imeyut nikakikh zapisey iz vas pereyekhatʹ syuda ," he commented, he looked relaxed as the young woman stared. "You know we contacted the Russian Embassy and they have no record of you ever moving here," she said slowly. She looked even more confused, she had no idea where he was going with this. "Eto znachit, vy ne zashchishcheny i mogut bytʹ predʺyavleny obvineniya v vorovstve," Claude commented as he took a drag of the cirgarette. Aberline looked at the translator who said, "Which means, you are not protected and may be charged with larceny."

Randall noticed how the suspect began to shift and looked at Claude as though he were his judge and jury. Claude slowly slipped off the table and walked behind him, "Znayete li vy , chto proiskhodit s muzhchinami , kak ty v tyurʹme?" he asked. The suspect was silent and he looked even more nervous than he had previously. "Do you know what they do to men like you, in prison?" the young woman translated, she watched as Claude leaned over and whispered something in his ear. His golden eyes made Randall's skin crawl and he looked at the translator, "What the hell is he saying now?" demanded Randall. She looked at him and began to panic, "I have no idea, he looks scared to death though," she comented. Claude was grinning with delight as the suspect jumped out of his seat. "Wait, wait, I'll tell you!" he begged and Aberline's jaw dropped. Everyone had asssuemed that he couldn't speak a word of English. Claude extinguished his cigarette in the mug and grinned like a cat who ate the cannary, "Talk," said Claude and he turned to the mirror. There was a look of triumph on his face and Randall looked as though he were about to blow a gasket. "Look I got an email one day asking if I would be interested in doing a job for a quarter of a million dollars," he admitted, his accent was still quite thick. He fidgeted under Claude's gaze, he could tell this man was less than impressed. "You have no idea how far that kind of cash goes in my country," he commented and looked at Claude, "I agreed and the next thing I knew there was a box with details and a plan," he continued.

Aberline scratched his head and asked, "How probable is this guy's story?" The translator looked at him and then to Claude who had an impressive presence about him. "Considerign he's scared out of his mind, he wouldn't dare," she commented. The Russian looked at Claude's eyes, "I was told we would be guaranteed to get away with it, the number to the account is in my bag. I doubt you'll find anything in it," he commented. Claude tilted his head to the side and asked, "Why?" The suspect gulped and looked at the mirror, "Because this guy is through, besides even Tony, the captain didn't know who this guy was. The pay was far too good to pass up though," he finished. Claude smiled and slowly walked toward the door, prior to opening it he turned to him and asked, "What's your name?" The Russian pointed to himself and responded, "Ivan." Claude smiled and nodded as he placed his hand on the cold silver handle, "It was a pleasure speaking to you Ivan," he said as he slipped out the door. He held the mug in his hand and handed back to Aberline who was staring at him. "You speak Russian," Aberline whispered in shock. Claude pushed his glasses further up his nose and shrugged, "In my line of work you have to be well versed in a number of languages, Russian is just one of them," he replied.

Randall's eyes narrowed as he left the other room and found a cool and confident Claude standing outside. "You smoke?" asked Randall, he had never smelt a cigarette on him. Golden eyes narrowed playfully and he responded, "No, that was for show, besides he was a heavy smoker. Taunting him was rather enjoyable." There was a certain darkness in Claude's eyes as he spoke, "Besides he really started to sing after learning what happens in prison." There was a grin of triumph plastered on his face and Randall asked, "What did you whisper to him?" He looked both irritated and genuinely curios, which Claude decided to have some fun with. "Just something I knew that would work," he replied. With that Randall turned to the translator and commented, "This is the translator who was supposed to be in the room." Claude's gaze shifted to the stout Russian woman and he smiled. "I apologize however I dislike waiting when I have the tools for instant gratification," he said charmingly. The young woman crossed her arms and pushed a few strands of brown hair behind her ear. "Well I'm not the one who broke protocol, I hate fast me," she spat. Claude grinned and looked into he brown eyes, "Oh believe me in that department I'm anything but fast," he commented with a smirk of delight. From any other man in the department this would have been considered harassment. The woman looked at him and shifted slightly, "Really?" she asked coyly and Randall walked away shaking his head. Claude hummed with a grin and replied, "Oh yes." The words rang through her and Claude watched as she bit her lip, "However I must confess you aren't my type," he said swiftly. She stared at him in confusion as Claude turned on his heel and walked through the hallway, "What?" she asked in confusion and Aberline laughed. "He's gay," he commented and she glared. "Why is it all the good ones are?" she bellowed before storming off. Aberline watched her and commented, "He really is right, not many people do like him."

Claude was walking behind Randall and noticed an empty desk, "May I?" he asked and Randall nodded, he saw no point in arguing, it was apparent he was going to be stuck with Claude no matter how much he disdained him. He walked Claude settle in the chair and looked at the empty desk, "Okay so we know they were hired, let's trace that bank account and the email account," said Aberline as he entered the room. Claude shook his head and looked at him, it was clear he had never dealt with crime in Europe. Aberline started to trace only to come back with an interesting snag, "What?" he asked in confusion. Randall stared at the screen dumbfounded and Claude called, "Anonymous proxy." He shifted in the seat and looked at them; this was a problem which had been plaguing them in Europe. "Basically they're bouncing their IP around to the point that we can't track it. This is common with mafia groups, a good hacker can bounce his code around the world faster than you could ever dream of tracking it," he commented as he pulled his cell phone. Randall looked at him and sighed, this was proving to be even more difficult than he ever imagined.

Aberline was about to say something when the desk phone rang, "Aberline," he said quickly. He looked at Randall and smiled, "Yes of course, show him in," he said prior to hanging up. "Mr. Michaelis is here for the line up, he tripped one of the Russians," said Aberline as he stood up and grabbed his cell phone off the desk. Claude hadn't been informed of this, "Who?" he asked slowly and Aberline turned to him. "Mr. Michaelis the guardian of Ciel Phantomhive," said Aberline. Claude froze, Ciel was the name of the boy Alois was chasing after, he then shook his head. Randall and Aberline were quick to make their way toward the observation room, it had to be a coincidence, Claude thought. He slowly fallowed them into the room to see a slender figure with black hair and a pair of red eyes. He looked just as elegant that morning, his suite fit him perfectly and he looked slightly relaxed. "Okay Mr. Michaelis tell us which one looks familiar," instructed Randall, he sounded much more hospitable toward him than he usually was with Claude. However the cut of the suite gave this man's status away, it was even more expensive than his own and he watched him nod. "Certainly," he responded, his voice was identical to the one which had called to Ciel that morning.

The light on the other side turned on and Claude through it, all of the suspects were gathered and facing Sebastian. "Him," Sebastian said firmly, "Number 4," he said firmly. It was as though his words were unbreakable, they were as firm as law it's self. "Thank you for your assistance Mr. Michaelis," said Aberline and Claude realized that the man Sebastian had selected was in fact the very same one he had interviewed that day. It was obvious that Sebastian had in fact seen this one. Claude was so preoccupied with his thoughts he didn't notice how the man had turned his head and was looking directly at him. "Who is he?" asked Sebastian with a smile on his lips. Claude was jolted back to earth and looked at him, "Claude Faustus, London Underwriters," he replied as he pulled out a card. Sebastian smirked and commented, "I see Trancy hasn't lost his step, Sebastian Michaelis CEO of Phantom Acquisitions." He looked relaxed and yet those red eyes sparkled with mischief, which slowly drew Claude in. "Acquisitions, it seems we are in similar markets," he commented as he held his hand out. Sebastian coy smirk made Claude tingle as he felt Sebastian slip his hand into his and give it a firm shake. "It was a pleasure," he commented before turning on his heel and leaving. Claude's golden eyes were locked on this man's body; it moved elegantly, there was so much confidence and power. "He knows something," said Claude as his eyes narrowed.

Sebastian quickly walked out of the precinct to find Bard waiting for him with a warm town car. "That was rather quick," Bard collected as he snuffed out his cigarette and looked at him before opening the door. Sebastian shrugged and replied, "I was asked to identify the thief in the line up. That was all." He slipped into the back of the town car with a smile on his face and he felt his phone buzz. Sebastian fished it out and looked at the caller ID, it was Ciel. He sighed and picked it up, and opened the text.

Ciel Phantomhive:

Ciel fell down the stairs and is unconscious. Come to Xavier High School quickly.