May 24th, Saturday.

[5:35:14 PM Feliks_Da_Bae: gurl were u ]

[5:35:17 PM Feliks_Da_Bae: hey nat]

[5:35:18 PM Feliks_Da_Bae: nat]

Natalia wished he would stop texting.

For the past hour now, Feliks had been messaging Natalia literally nonstop—she would look away for a second and there would be four new messages, telling her to answer his texts. She had ignored them, hoping it would stop in a minute or so. It did not stop. In fact, his text's seemed to be coming at a more rapid rate. How did her cousin even manage to be this annoying? It didn't seem humanly possible for anyone to be as irritating as he was, but there he was.

It took another twenty minutes for Feliks to start calling. Then he left voicemails. And he just. Wouldn't. Stop.

Natalia gave up.

The next time he called, Natalia picked the phone up and practically screamed into the receiver.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?" she roared.

"Omigod, Nats. You like, finally answered. I was beginning to think that Ivan, like, gave me the wrong digits or some shit." Feliks said, not at all affected by her yelling. His voice was somewhat shrill and whiny as always; Natalia had hoped it would become less annoying with time.

"Shut up, Feliks" Natalia growled. "My brother would never make such a stupid mistake."

Feliks laughed. "Doll, I forgot about that weird thing you had with your brother bein' perf or some shit. But hey, like, I totes respect that. I mean, like, we all know that I'm the only purely perfect human being, but since we're related, I guess Ivan's pretty rad too."

"I understood about thirty percent of that. Why the fuck can't you speak normally?"

"This is normal, babe! Normal for me. So like, enough with the small talk and shizz. How's you, baby girl? I've been like, hella worried trying to find you. I looked everywhere—the ballet studios, unis and everything. It was like, totes exhausting. I wore out a pair of boots. They were vintage and everything." Feliks said, chattering away.

"I'm fine. Actually, I moved to Oregon, so you won't find me in New York." Natalia lied. Feliks giggled on the other end.

"Sweetie, I'm not cray. Your number is still has a Big Apple area code. I should know; I, like, moved here. It was great. On the plane, the flight attendant was like, 'OMG, I love your hair!' to me, and I nearly fainted 'cos her hair was like, the bomb! It was an honor, trust me. Her hair was like, this perfect honey blonde. I was so jells. Like, we're all blonde in our family, Nats, but like, Iryna and Ivan are both ash blond, and your hair has this weird ass white blonde color, and I have this fan-fucking-tastic lemony hair, but she was like, sunshine. So, like, anyways, I arrived at the airport, and it was totally gnarly. There were like, at least a billion peeps! I mean gawd, I stood out in the crowd of course, but there was competition! Like, gag me with a spoon, there was a guy with blue hair who actually looked better than me! It was sick, in both ways." Feliks rambled, taking a single breath between his words. Natalia didn't even get a chance to interrupt him before he continued with his monologue about New York City and hair.

"So another flight attendant—her hair was totes bitchin', it was long and looked like fuckin' silk. And like, she was wearing this pair of rad red stilettos, and she told me where she bought them and stuffs. Then I got lost looking for a taxi. Did you know you have to pay just to get in them? It was coo', tho. The bruh in my car was totally chill and he this gnarly mile-high quif thingy. So then, he recommended this hella Vietnamese restaurant, and it turned out, like, ehmahzing. Then, I—"

"Feliks, shut your mouth." Natalia snapped. Really, she was impressed she had been silent for this long without breaking a window. Feliks' speech patterns had most likely destroyed a good dozen of her brain cells. "I couldn't care less about your airplane experience. Just get to the point."

"Fine. Party pooper." Feliks grumbled. "Anyways, since I'm living in the city now, I was thinkin' we should hang some time? Like, I work in this pet shop thingiemajiger downtown, so I could totally meet up with you there. What do you think?"

"I'd rather scoop out my eyeballs with my fingers then meet up with you, Feliks." His cousin replied bluntly.

"Wow, you're so hardcore." Feliks said sarcastically. "Yeah, you've got this weird obsession with trying to sound bitch ass. It won't work with me, doll. I am, like, titanium. But I don't think I'd wanna meet up with your totally grouchy aura anywho. I can taste the negativity through the phone. Like, my houseplants are legit dying because you radiate pessimism and I don't even have houseplants. 'Cuz ya killed 'em."

"Thank you. The fact that I don't have to meet up with you is the honestly best news I've received all day." Natalia said. Feliks scoffed, and she could picture him flipping his hair in her mind. That's what she got for growing up with him: unwanted and idle mental images of her cousin doing the most dull things.

"Whatevs. I'm just wondering why you didn't just hang up if you, like, think I'm so grody. Well, I know I'm a super star, but you're such the opposite of a super star that maybe you can't observe happiness. You're like, a bad moon or something. I dunno. What's the opposite of a super st—"

Natalia hung up on him, and her ears blessed the silence that followed. A heavy weight seemed to have settled in her stomach because she knew exactly why she hadn't hung up before, even if he did annoy her. Feliks was her first cousin on her mother's side. He was the closest relative she had in proximity. He was family, and her family was something that Natalia dreamed to see.

The blonde woman had spent the past few days wistfully thinking of seeing her sister and brother and then denying the wish to her sister. Her cousin was living in the same city as she was. It seemed almost like a dream come true—

—But Feliks wasn't Iryna. Feliks didn't smile kindly and bake cupcakes and hadn't sang lullabies when Natalia was six and afraid of everything. He didn't wrap her and Ivan in a hand knitted scarf when they were cold back home in Sitka. And Feliks wasn't Ivan, who had been her idol since forever and who had always agreed to play games with Natalia and had loyally attended each one of her recitals and performances, even after he left school.

Feliks was family by blood, but he had never been particularly close to Natalia even if she was only a year older than him and they were cousins. No, they weren't entirely familiar at all. Why would she bother meeting up someone who would be nothing more than an acquaintance at best if they hadn't been related?

Give him a chance, her heart whispered, He might be better than you think. After all, he is your cousin. Doesn't he deserve kindness?

She told her heart to shut up and mind its own business. It was too late for this, and it was still only six o'clock in the evening. Natalia only had so much patience to waste on him.

Maybe she'd order take out for dinner and go to bed early for the first time in a while. That would be nice.

May 25th, Sunday.

Natalia didn't wake up to her alarm clock, or to the sun that hadn't even risen when she had. No, she was disturbed from her slumbers by her new phone which had been charging on her bedside table. Groggy and bleary eyed with sleep, the woman fumbled with her phone until she managed to hit the home button. Notifications proudly displayed the email that had waken her from her sleeping.

Help Wanted!: bellemanon to ihedervarygoodtime, mllachance, sea_wurld_curled, n_arlovskaya and 43 others…

Hello! Recently, business has improved greatly at my restaurant 'Merville' and my brother has contacted me about finding a new part time waiter or waitress, especially since we are now one short of staff ever since Rozentuin left last week. I will obviously be able to pay, and if you are hired, wages will be discussed in person. The times of work are flexible, but the days of work are Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. If wanted, I can adjust them to more days or less days as requested. If you are interested in this job in the slightest, please contact me! Thanks you.

-Manon Clovis.

Natalia winced internally at Manon's subtle begging tone. What kind of situation must her restaurant be going through that losing a single waitress was enough to induce panic in the normally humble but confident woman? Remembering the few dollar bills that Manon had offered as tips at the Power bar, the small room that was her bistro, and the fact that her restaurant seemed to be drawing in too many people for her to handle, it seemed that Manon's health and mentality hung at the very end of a shoestring.

The indigo eyed woman read over the email ago, and then a third time. Manon needed a waitress and was still offering a salary. Ludwig had put her and Leon on suspension for around a week with no pay, but she'd go back to work as his paralegal on Thursday. It would certainly be benefacting to her bank account if she worked two jobs, and Natalia didn't really care if she fell into exhaustion; ironically, it would make one of the lies she told her sister true.

Running her fingers through her bedraggled, knotted hair, Natalia frowned. Usually when she made spur of the moment decisions, it didn't end well.

Screw it.

Sucking in her breath and exhaling deeply, Natalia called Manon.

It took a while for Manon to pick up the call—two tries, actually, but when she did, Manon spoke quickly.

"Hello? This is Manon Clovis. If you're not calling to ask about the job offer, then I'm terribly sorry, but I'm a bit too busy to talk about anything else."

"Manon, this is Natalia. Natalia Arlovskaya. I am calling you to ask about the waitressing job, so you can't hang up on me."

"Oh, Natalia! I wasn't going to. You're looking to be a waitress for me? I thought you were a lawyer. Aren't you going to be too busy if you work two jobs? I thought being a lawyer paid well." Manon asked, curious.

"I'm a paralegal, not a lawyer. There's a difference. Paralegals are paid...considerably less. But yes, I am asking you for a job as a waitress at your restaurant. Don't try asking why I want two jobs; it's really none of your business. " Natalia said. "I have waited on tables and customers before, so I have experience.. In college, I worked at several chain restaurants as a waitress.. Is there a specific date for your interview, or are we just doing a phone interview right now?"

"You're hired." Manon said as soon as Natalia stopped talking. Natalia balked.

"What?"

"I said you're hired. You have the job. You got it. Yay!" Manon squealed.

"You can't just hire someone after six seconds of interview! What if I had a criminal record or something? Is this how you handled all your employee's hiring? Jesus Christ, for all you know, Francis could be a serial killer." Natalia said indignantly. Manon 'tsked' at the other woman's words.

"Don't be crazy, Natalia. Of course I'm taking this into consideration! I've known you since college, and I just want to trust you enough. I'm not a dummy. Plus you get the job. Isn't that a good thing?. So, is it a yes or no?"

Natalia groaned and raised her free hand up to rub her face. "Yeah, fine. I can quit if I don't like this, right? You won't refuse to let me leave?"

"Oh, heavens no. I won't hold you hostage or anything if you really do want to leave in the future, but It means so much to me that you offered to work.. I'll be honest, I never thought you were considerate type, so it definitely proves me wrong, right?" Manon let out a little laugh. Natalia didn't reply, so she kept on talking. "Anyways, can you get here by nine? I'll email you the address."

"Wait, the job's starting today? Don't I get employee training or an uniform?" Natalia asked, regretting her choice with every word that Manon said.

"Well, you just told me that you waited on tables before, so I just thought you wouldn't need any. If you want, I'll call Roderich and tell him and Francis to show you around. As for a uniform...Hm, wear a blouse and black pants. You should tie your hair up too, but that's just optional. I'll give you an actual uniform when you get here. So, can you get here by nine?"

"I'll be there by nine if I must. Manon, I'm not that confident in this—"

"Oh, hush! You'll do fine, Natalia." Manon said reassuringly.

"It's not me I'm worried about, but if you insist." Natalia said.

Manon had already hung up.

Blinking her eyes in the dark, she then squeezed them shut and threw the blankets back over her body. Now safely secure and warm in the duvet, Natalia could regret her decision in comfort.

Did Manon sincerely believe that Natalia had agreed to her job offer from the kindness of her heart? The main reason anyone took a job was for money. She hadn't even considered that it would benefit Manon; the only reason she had offered was for herself. Did that make her selfish? Probably, but it didn't matter to Natalia as long as she got paid. Money couldn't buy happiness, but it could buy the things that supplied it; food, shelter...And she'd definitely set aside money to visit her siblings. As much as she had lied to Iryna, as soon as Natalia got the chance, she would go home and visit them. That would be worth the extra work.

Yawning, her head was filled with lovely images of home and hearth and her siblings and she drifted off to sleep.

"God dammit, bastard! You got powdered sugar all over me!"

Lovino Vargas fluffed out his dark brown hair and dusted off his clothes. The black uniform he was wearing was now clouded with powder. Natalia set the bag of sugar on the countertop and frowned.

"You were the one running around the kitchen yelling orders, and you were the one that crashed into me." Natalia groused, batting sugar off of her black waist apron as well. Lovino threw his hands up into the air.

"You don't need to get into specifics, idiot. Sweet mother Mary, complain about one thing around a lawyer and they're pulling out all kinds of irrelevant info out from their a—"

"I'm not a lawyer. I'm a paralegal. There's a difference."

"Well, Natalia, we're all waiters here. Don't go riding no high horses." Lovino said with a huff. Francis, who had been mixing a bowl full of vegetables a couple of feet away, interrupted.

"Lovino, you know that I'm a chef. Not a waiter. Why do you keep on getting everyone's jobs wrong?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Lovino flipped his hair out of his eyes and raised a hand in indignation.

"Whatever, Bonnefoy. The facts are that this is a kitchen, and I am the boss. You're all just taking my orders."

Roderich looked up from the cake he was frosting with chocolate and gave shorter man a disapproving look.

"You are a waiter, Vargas. Miss Clovis is the only one who we take orders from." he said stuffily. Lovino opened and closed his hand like a talking mouth.

"Oh yeah? Let's see, what was the order? Table number Seven, Order: a chocolate cake a la mode, potato wedges, and a beef stew with carrots and potatoes. And what are you making? Let's see, Frenchie: you're stirring carrots and potatoes for the stew. Hey, look! There's beef in chunks right next to you. And you! Roderich! You're icing a chocolate cake. Aren't you technically taking the orders I gave you?"

"'Technically' being the key word, I should think." Francis said, sounding more amused than insulted. "Isn't Natalia here taking over for Rozie? She's a waitress too."

Lovino put his hands on his hips and glared up at Francis. "Yeah, dumbass, but she started like five minutes ago. She hasn't taken any orders yet. Just stop talking to me! You're making me lose brain cells, you porco demonio!"

Francis took a step closer to Lovino, who immediately scurried behind Natalia, who in turned pushed him away. Roderich had turned back to his the cake and frosting, and Francis returned to the stew and started talking to Natalia.

"Well, Mademoiselle Natalia, Manon told me to show you the ropes." he said.

"Really, I don't want you to show me anything, Francis. I'm pretty sure I could just improvise." Natalia said. She hadn't forgotten the argument that they had on Friday and wasn't partial to be around Francis any longer. Francis ignored this.

"This is the main kitchen, as you know. Mainly Roderich and I work here, but we do have another chef who comes in on Thursdays and Fridays, and a saucier who has today off. I am le chef de cuisine—the chief chef, if you please." he said, giving Natalia a smile rather like that of Cheshire Cat's before continuing.

"Roderich is a pâtissier."

"Pastry chef?" Natalia asked, looking over to where the dark haired man was, crouched over and painstakingly adding miniscule details to a circular chocolate cake. Francis nodded, the smirk still on his face.

"Exactly, Natalia. Sadık, our saucier, prepares sauces, fish, and fried items. He's quite a charming man, so I don't you think you'll like him. There's also Feliciano, Lovino's younger brother, the sous chef. And of course, there's Lovino, who you've met. He's a waiter like you, but he can occasionally—very occasionally—be trusted with making specific dishes. Mostly dishes with some variant of tomato." Francis said, gesturing over to where the waiter was standing grumpily in the corner. "But I think his greatest use as a help is as our plongeur."

"I can't speak French." Natalia said flatly. Lovino sputtered and glared at Francis.

"He said I'm only good as a dishwasher. What a cheese sucking, wine fucking bastard." he grumbled, pouting even more. Francis laughed.

"Lovino, I couldn't very well lie and say that your personality was your best aspect, now could I? I mean, just look at you!" the blond man said, teasing the other man. Lovino was slouched sloppily against the caramel colored walls of the kitchen, his face dark red. He seemed too angry to say anything besides sputters. Francis turned back to Natalia

"That's all you really need to know for now, but I'd be glad to teach such a cold beauty anything…" he said flirtatiously. Natalia couldn't decide if he was just jesting or not, but frowned up at him anyways. Francis dropped the sultry tone and continued talking normally. "Right, the customers on Table Seven are the only ones in right now, and you should go deliver their drinks to them."

"Well, what did they get?" Natalia asked. Francis leaned over to a board with clips and read the order slip.

"An Earl Grey tea with a cube of sugar and cream, and Mountain Dew." Francis pulled a face. "Oh, I think I know who's sitting at Table Seven. I really need to tell Manon to remove soda from the drink menu. It really ruins the food and ambience. That aside, the soda machine is in the back and Roderich can show you where the tea is."

The violet eyed man looked up from where he was putting on finishing touches to the cake and adjusted his glasses, looking uncertainly at Natalia. Natalia stared back expectantly. Roderich set the pipe of frosting onto the polished metal countertop and sighed.

"There are two types of Earl Grey that we have here. There's the loose leaf version, which is preferable to me, and there's the tea bag. Francis, what type do you think?"

Francis looked over to Roderich. "Tea bag, of course. He deserves it."

Natalia looked quizzically at them both, but decided to ignore it.

"So then. where are the tea bags?" she asked folding her arms. Roderich pointed to large wooden door, one of the many doors in the kitchen. Natalia walked over to it and opened it up. In it was the pantry, where many, many dry goods were stored. There was an entire section devoted to what looked like assorted sprinkles, ball bearings and other pastry decorations. The wall to the left of Natalia had boxes, tins and jars of tea. It took a full five minutes to find the box of Earl Grey tea bags; it had been shoved in the lower right hand corner.

Getting a white ceramic mug so polished that it sparkled (as instructed by Roderich) and the vessel of hot water, Natalia steeped the tea and left it for a minute as she fiddled around with the soda machine. When she checked back on the mug of tea with the soda in hand, Roderich handed her a tray and ushered her out the door into the restaurant.

It was dimly lit, with one large rectangular window and fairy lights strung across the entire room that gave it a warm ambience. The walls were painted a deep chocolate brown and there were several wooden shelves around the place; some held old fashioned children's books written in French or Dutch, others had picture box frames with sepia pictures and well-loved stuffed animals plushies. It made the entire establishment look homey and somewhat vintage—and although Natalia hated to admit it—it was also kind of cute. In short, it was very obvious that Manon had designed the room.

At a table right in front of the glass window were the only customers so far: two men, sitting on plush velvet and wood dining chairs at either ends of a square chestnut table, talking. As she moved closer, a chord of recognition rang through her: not for one of them, but for both of them.

The man on the right hand side was shorter than the other; he had sandy colored hair and a pale, almost sickly complexion. He was the one talking, a beaten up leather bound notebook filled with jumbled notes and sketches on the table in front of him. Natalia didn't need for him to raise his head or to see his electric green eyes to recognize the man.

The man he was talking to looked a year or so younger but definitely healthier. He had tanned skin, well defined muscles and a playful grin on his face as the other man spoke. He was wearing a pair of black glasses that didn't dim the annoyingly bright, sky blue eyes he had. Neither of them had noticed that she was there.

"I have a Mountain Dew and an Earl Grey for Table Seven." she said loudly over their conversation. Arthur Kirkland jolted up, accidentally kicking Alfred's knee in his shock at the sudden voice. He took a second to calm down, but was once again shocked when he realized that he knew who was talking. Alfred's eyes widened too when he saw Natalia, and he laughed.

"Hey, it's Natalia. Nice to see you again! I didn't know you worked here. We come here, like, everyday, but I've never seen you wait here." he said conversationally. Arthur gave Alfred a bemused look.

"You know Natalia Arlovskaya, Alfred?" Arthur asked as Natalia set the mug of tea in front of him. He uttered a thanks as she set it down. Alfred laughed.

"Yeah dude, she was at the store I work at yesterday. She got angry because she thought I was a perv or something, but we're totally cool now. Thanks, Natalia." he said, grinning wider as she handed him the glass of soda. "How do you know her, Artie?"

"She works at the World building for the lawyer on floor 46. I think you might have heard of him—Ludwig Beilschmidt?" Arthur asked, dropping a sugar cube into his tea and mixing it in with the metal teaspoon. Alfred thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"Nah, sorry. I'm guessing he's some famous lawyer?" he said, setting his elbow on the table.

"Very much so. Have you heard about the Washington motorcade debacle?"

Alfred's eyes widened. "Of course I have. That was plastered around the internet for months. He worked on that case?" he asked curiously. Natalia spoke before Arthur could.

"Mr. Beilschmidt is the lawyer in charge of handling the case for the congressmen, and he won." Natalia said. Alfred seemed impressed.

"Woah. Cool. Then why are you working here?" Alfred asked Natalia.

"I'm sleeping with the owner of the restaurant, that's why. Why do you think? For money, obviously." she said irritably. There was a beat, and then Alfred started laughing. Arthur gave Natalia a quizzical look and pulled the glass of soda out of of the other man's hands in case he spilled any Mountain Dew on himself.

"You've got a rather odd sense of humor, Miss Arlovskaya." Arthur said before returning to his notebook, a leaking black ink pen in hand.

Natalia walked briskly and quickly back into the kitchen, where Lovino was arguing about something with Francis once again; Lovino was obviously a bit more invested in the banter than Francis was. Francis was boiling something in a large copper pot and Lovino was simply yelling.

"—And don't forget the time you kissed our boss in front of CUSTOMERS! You probably mentally scarred a child or something because it was so gross. Like God, can't you ever control yourself?" Lovino yelled, pointing accusingly at Francis. Francis didn't take his eyes off the beef stew he was still stirring while he spoke.

"Lovi, that was just a peck on the lips. She said it was okay before hand anyways. I would have never have forced her to kiss me, and I don't go around begging for a kiss like someone else I know." Francis replied. He seemed as calm as ever, while Lovino seemed to be at his bursting point. Natalia wondered why Francis had been so edgy on Friday if he was so controlled and mellow right now.

"You two didn't stop sucking on each other's faces for like, an hour. I nearly threw up." Lovino said, gagging. Francis smirked slightly.

"Maybe I shouldn't tell you about what we did afterwards—I don't think your pure maiden heart could handle it without a heart attack." he said smugly, mixing in carrots to the stew. Lovino blanched.

"Ugh, trust me, I don't want to know. I'll explode if you say one more gross thing." Lovino said, turning away sharply. He then looked back a second later. "Wait, what did you two do?"

"Well, Lovino, you won't believe this but we actually held hands. Don't faint now. I know it's a bit risque." Francis said cheekily. Lovino's palm met his face and he stomped away angrily; most likely to go sulk in the pantry. Natalia cleared her throat.

"I sent the drinks to their table. Now what?" she asked impatiently, not at all emotionally invested in their bickering.

"Can you slice potatoes?" Francis asked, gesturing to where a cutting board and knife lay. "I asked Lovino to do it earlier, but he just exploded into a huge rant. You look like someone who would be good with knives."

"True. I used to take knife throwing lessons back in my school days." Natalia replied nonchalantly, picking up the vegetable knife and throwing it up into the air. It lands on the palm of her hand perfectly without a scratch or nick on her skin. Lovino stared at her with his mouth agape and a slightly panicked expression just like Roderich, but Francis didn't seem to have noticed her trick.

"Perfect. Cut around twenty potato wedges for Table Seven, and when you're done, put them in the bowl. Lovino, there's another gaggle of customers coming through the door; go wait on them. Natalia, when you're done with the potatoes, go help him." Francis ordered, now stirring the soup with an energetic fevor.

Natalia swung the knife downward rather a bit too enthusiastically and cut the potato cleanly in half a loud chopping noise. Then she began cutting it normally, counting the wedges as she did until she reached twenty. The potato she scooped up and placed in a ceramic bowl, and the knife she set in a sink; she then went out with a notepad, pen and a couple of menus to help Lovino wait as ordered.

There were now a few more people milling around the restaurant and some of them were smart enough to read the sign and seat themselves; others still waited near the entrance. One of them was a father with four children running in circles around him while he tried to calm them down. Natalia pointed them over to a large table in the corner farthest away from the kitchen with a forced smile upon her face. When she heard one of the children squeal in fright at her slightly demonic grin, she decided to just greet the other diners with her normal grim expression.

After she had directed a giggly girl and her rather embarrassed boyfriend to their table and seeing that there weren't anymore people standing about, she went back into the kitchen.

Francis was ladeling stew into a large bowl and Lovino, who had returned to the kitchen before Natalia had, was frying the potatoes while talking on the phone loudly over the noise. When she got closer, she realized that he was speaking in Italian.

"Natalia, you can take the soup out for Table Seven. Lovino, when you're done with the potatoes go get the drink orders from Tables Two, Four, and Nine. Also, put your phone away." Francis said, sliding the bowl over the counter to Natalia. "There's no time to dilly-dally, especially since Manon's bound to check in soon."

"I was wondering where she was. I haven't seen her all morning." Roderich mulled, a cake knife in his hands. Francis shrugged.

"I think she's out buying produce. It's what she usually does at this time. Now Natalia, Table Seven! You really mustn't keep them waiting." Francis said, picking the bowl up and setting it on a tray before handing it to Natalia.

With the tray balanced on her hand, she used the other to push open the door to the eating area and walked back over to the window where Alfred and Arthur were sitting. Arthur raised a thick eyebrow when he saw her again, but Alfred enthusiastically waved her over.

"Hey, Natalia! Lend us your brain for a second." he said cheerfully. Natalia balked.

"What?" she asked, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Which one do you think is better—Alyna, or Veronika?" Alfred continued. Natalia frowned slightly and set the bowl down.

"Are you thinking of Russian names? In that case, It wouldn't be Alyna. It would be Alyona, genius." Natalia snapped, taking the tray back. Arthur groaned and put his face in his hands.

"For Jesus Christ, stop harassing random people." he mumbled through his hands. Alfred tilted his head, looking rather like a confused puppy.

"But I'm trying to help you! You were divided between the two names. and Natalia's apparently an actual Russian speaking person, so isn't that go—"

"Don't just randomly tell it to people, Alfred! Have some human decency." Arthur said. "God, you're such a prat."

Natalia set down smaller, empty bowls in front of Arthur and Alfred.

"Are you two having a child together or some shit?" she asked bluntly. Arthur jerked his head away from his hands and started sputtering incoherently, the momentum from his motion sending the chair falling backwards and crashing into the chair of another diner. He ignored this as he stood up, his notebook clutched tightly in hand.

"Have a...CHILD? With him? What gave you that bloody awful idea? I would never—Lord Almighty...You're just like the bartender in that Power Bar who wouldn't stop squealing about my brother and I before she found out we were related. Natalia Arlovskaya, I expected better of you! That's just—That's just—I'm not in love with him at all! I don't have time for dating, or children, or romance, or sleeping, or this—That's preposterous! We're just friends! I have a job, and a younger brother, and I—How terribly uncouth!" Arthur rambled, waving the notebook in Natalia's face. "It's a name for a character in my novel! I'm an author! THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH CHILDREN!"

Several people had turned from their menus to stare at Arthur while the man himself was breathing heavily. A wide-eyed Alfred looked bemusedly from Natalia to Arthur, the soup ladle in his hands.

"Whoa, Arthur. Take a chill pill, man! I'm sure that Natalia was just curious. I bet she didn't know that you were a writer or something. Relax." he said. Arthur's green eyes darted wildly across the room, meeting the eyes of the people that were staring at him. He cleared his throat.

"Well, perhaps you're right, Alfred. Miss Arlovskaya, I offer my humble apologies for my outburst. I suppose I might have just misunderstood you." Arthur said, bowing slightly. That didn't make the scene any less odd.

"You should well know that I knew that you are a writer, Kirkland, but you'll have to remind yourself that I've only known you inside the World building; I only thought of you as a writer for the Newspaper. Forgive me for not delving into your social life." Natalia responded coldly. She was in fact lying slightly; Natalia had found out about Arthur's dream of publishing a novel from Emil in one particularly interesting coffee break. There was what seemed to be a staring contest between Natalia and Arthur, and then Natalia looked away. It was odd yelling at Arthur—he was someone she had generally respected enough to not be incredibly rude to. As Arthur set his chair back up, Alfred started talking casually as if nothing had happened.

"So yeah, we should totally catch that new Disney film that's coming out on Wednesday. I think the new princess looks kickass! What do you think?" he chattered, setting the ladle back in the bowl. Natalia decided that it would be best to walk as quickly away from the scene as possible, but on the way back to the kitchen, a diner stopped her.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but what was the commotion all about?" A woman asked. She wore a visor and had about thirty plastic bags in the area around her and there was something about the way she spoke; the woman was most likely a tourist. Lies and excuses ran through Natalia's head like lightning before she decided on one that would hopefully be good enough to not tarnish the restaurant's or her own reputation.

"Oh, that's a Broadway actor and his acting coach. He's a bit dramatic, but he's quite popular so I wouldn't go around talking trash about him, even if he is...Well… Anyways, he's rehearsing for a new musical, and if you know anything about New York, you'll have heard of it. It's called 'The Newspaper Critic'." Natalia said, lying easily. It was a near perfect lie—belittle the suspect, belittle the one being lied to, and sound superior. Her judge of character had been right. The woman was yet but a confused tourist.

"Did you mean Newsies? I've heard quite a bit about it." The woman said, flustered. Natalia waved her hand in a superior manner.

"Please, that's not even on Broadway anymore. No, it's a new musical, but enough about that. I'm a waitress, not an concierge. Now, can I take your order or not?"

A passing car caused the wind to rise, making her hair hit her in the face. Natalia spat a mouthful of hair out and not-so silently yelled insults at the long since gone driver. Manon stared bemusedly at Natalia, her hands holding the key to the restaurant. It was around eleven PM and the restaurant was closed, the last customer having had left around an hour ago. The last hour had been devoted to cleaning, dusting and wiping down the entire location.

"Did you enjoy your first day here, Natalia?" Manon asked, tucking the key back into her coat pocket. Natalia scowled, but her face was turned away from the other woman.

"Not particularly." Natalia said bluntly.

"Aw, why not?" Manon asked. She ran up to match pace with the shorter woman as they walked down the street from the bistro.

"I don't enjoy most things, and this wasn't impressive or anything." she replied, "Also, I really do need to discuss work times with you."

"Well then, shoot!" Manon said. "I was wondering why you had been so eager to start the job today. Maybe you just more pep in your step than I thought!"

"Wrong." Natalia replied.

"Oh, what do you mean?"

"I meant wrong that you think I have more—'pep in my step' or whatever. I just agreed to the job for money." Natalia said, crossing her arms. Manon sighed.

"I see." she said glumly. "Now, what did you want to change the times to?"

"As many people have noted many, many times, I am a paralegal. I will be unable to attend work at The World building this week for reasons—"

"Didn't Roderich say something about the Eosos Incorporated case going wrong?" Manon asked, curious. Natalia ignored her question.

"Anyways, I could only work until I can somehow return to work. The date I'm supposed to return to is this Thursday, but with no news from my boss, I think I will work at your bistro until my job as a mostly full time paralegal will resume. This could be anywhere from a few days to a few months."

"Well...alright, I think that sounds decent enough. For work hours, would nine to four be alright for you?" Manon asked. Natalia shrugged.

"Fine."

"I wouldn't usually have such lax and flexible working times, but I guess since we're friends—"

"Stop talking." The shorter woman snapped at Manon, who fell silent.

They continued walking at an equal pace for a few minutes until Manon broke into a run at a turning. Natalia stared blankly at the other woman as she literally bolted away. Manon was either incredibly fond of running, or just reluctant to spend anymore time around Natalia. It could really be either, but if it was the second one then Natalia wondered why Manon had hired her at all.

With a shrug, Natalia took the crosswalk and started walking home. It was a warmer night than it had been two days ago, and it was a good thing that Manon's bistro was just a little more than a mile from her own apartment. The World building in comparison was much farther; when she was first hired by Ludwig, she had taken to taking the subway station to work but it had been way too crowded for a loner such as Natalia. It was worth the extra money to take a taxi cab.

A small pack of joggers in uniform neon track clothing ran past Natalia and lights washed over her from the yellow lights from the street, white light from the office buildings, and multicolored lights winked from the cars and shops. The city was illuminated as usual.

Natalia stared up at the yellow moon, barely visible in the starless sky.

It had been an odd day. So, what next?

I had no beta's this time.

Hm, I had actually been planning this part for a while, so I hope it isn't too plot twist-y. I enjoyed writing Arthur and Lovino in this chapter.

Remember to review if you'd like! :D

-Bubble