A/N: BIG UPDATE

I realized that I haven't given any shout-outs yet?! Heavens, I'd better start now!

To those who favorited the story:

Boris Yeltsin, ColombianGirl96, DannyBoo511, Ginevra Black, Grumbly Bear, Jawrulez, Jay aka Jordan, Kween Of Thorn, lesipiratecat, Maroon Cross, OutsideTheCloset13, and StarNova69

To those that reviewed so far:

Boris Yeltsin, Jay aka Jordan, jayhepburn, Kuchiki-san urahara, I Will Make You Rebel, itsmefiebs, Lushcoltrane, PurpleSecrectIsland97, ScottyBgood, S.K. Rowling, sqh123, StarNova69, and Timeless Reader

...and to all you guest reviewers, please come out and join us. Some of your kind words really touched me and I think you'd like it here.

so now, on to the story...


Victoria watched the Blue Angel from across the street.

She shook her head, trying to figure out what was going on with her. It didn't make sense.

Then again, neither did Victoria's crazy plan.

She had this vision in her head about whisking Jadelyn away to America to start a new life with her. No matter how preposterous it sounded, it was the kind of sweet dream that got her through some really tough nights. Nights where she missed her father. Nights when running such a massive company was too stressful. Nights lamenting that her whole life was a deception.

Victoria imagined Jadelyn's lips whispering into her ear that she would get through this, her arms tightening around her torso for reassurance. It was a comforting scenario even if it would only remain in her head.

She continued to work steadily on with expanding Vega Architecture & Engineering. What began as her grandfather laying brick just to make ends meet has turned into something ready to launch any day now outside of Europe for the first time. Victoria had succeeded in setting the foundation for a North American office located in New York City.

The one movie poster her father ever bought was for the German film, Metropolis. Naturally, a man whose livelihood was urban design was enchanted by visions of a city of the future. He told Victoria when she was little that this was what New York looked like. It looked like a fairytale only with trees of iron and glass. Victoria took down the poster from her father's office wall and carefully rolled it up. She knew enough that it was improper to fold a poster. She treated it with all the delicacy of a precious blueprint.

It was most important to her. It was the one object that linked her two greatest loves: her father and Jadelyn. One was dead and the other was not.

Victoria was determined to go to America and she wanted to take Jadelyn with her. But she's putting up this barrier.

If Jadelyn was going to be that way, so be it. But she wasn't going to get away without explaining herself.


Taking a break, Andre left the club and walked down the street. He has been a little cautious these days with the new government in power. If his eyes caught sight of what looked like Hitler's foot soldiers, he knew the best thing was to remain hidden until the coast was clear.

The American got surprised when he turned around and saw that he was being followed. A familiar face.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" Victor feigning conversation sheepishly.

Andre looked around as if trying to sniff out some all-seeing spies. "What do you want?"

Victor shrugged. "Just to talk."

"Oh, no" he pointed back. "I have gotten myself into enough trouble already from speaking to you."

Victor remembered Jadelyn's letter referencing that she knew he pressed her piano player for vital information.

"Look," Andre went on. "I understand you have feelings for her. And despite coming off as a little mysterious, you seem like a nice fellow. But if she doesn't want anything to do with you, I must respect her wishes. Even if that means physically preventing you from getting near her place."

The Spaniard scoffed. "So, what? Are you going to fight me?"

Andre tensed and relaxed, smirking. "I am not looking for a fight but I will do what is necessary for a friend."

Victor swallowed back the heaviness in his throat and put his hand on Andre's shoulder.

"She is really fortunate...to have someone like you to look out for her." Victor took a deep breath before continuing. "If you can look me in the eye and tell me she has not said a thing about me, then I will stay away."

The musician couldn't answer.

"I see," Victor nodded. "What should I do?"

"Maybe I will take you up on that offer." He gestured to a small restaurant that opened about three years prior. "Buy me lunch, Vega?"

He smiled in returned. "Sounds delightful."

"No drinks," Andre sternly told Victor. "Twenty-two months clean and sober. Besides I cannot trust you when there's alcohol involved."

"Mmm-hm."


"He left her?" Victor asked, wide-eyed.

Andre nursed his cup of coffee. "Well, if by 'he left her' you mean she kicked him out and told him to burn in hell - then yes."

"What happened?"

"I suppose the poor girl had enough. Apparently, he was roughing her up. We started to notice when it got bad."

Victor could sense disappointment in his eyes.

"You shouldn't be discouraged with yourself. You could not have known. Besides, Jadelyn is too proud of a woman to accept help."

Andre nodded. "I know."

"Have there been any...?"

"You mean...since Beckett?"

Victor cleared his throat. "I didn't mean to imply anything...I just figured...it had been a long while..."

"Surprisingly, no" Andre said, playing with his fork.

"How come?"

Andre shrugged. "I suppose she didn't find anybody worth her time or maybe she had something else on her mind."

"If she is afraid of getting hurt..."

"I think that is why she seems hostile around you but I have the suspicion she is hiding something else. When you know someone for a while, you tend to tell when they are not being truthful."

Victor sipped his own coffee, grinning and bearing it. This place doesn't know a damn thing about café.

"Like, when the subject of you comes up...her words range from disgust to complete indifference but her eyes...they tell a different story."

This made Victoria's heart glad but she maintained her composure.

"What should I do, Andre? How do I make her understand that I would never hurt her?"

Andre licked his lips in thought.

"My grandmother, before she was committed, always told me that the perfect start to a good friendship (but I think she was talking about any relationship) is not to have any secrets."

Victor rubbed his hands nervously.

"Just be honest with her, Victor. Sincere. Maybe then she will see who you really are."

That last thing he said felt like a punch in the gut.

I have my work cut out for me, Victoria thought to herself.


Jadelyn was sweeping her small apartment, which was more of a studio/loft. A massive room with only a bathroom. It had a bed at the far end by the bathroom entrance with a meager living space on the other side. This space was hers so she never missed the additional walls that most others were acquainted with.

It wasn't like she entertained much. Nobody came up here.

Not these days.

The apartment was a cavalcade of 20's and 30's interior design, Jadelyn cherry-picking things she liked from either decade. It was a mess but she liked it the same.

There was a knock and Jadelyn slowly approached the door.

"Who is it?" she shouted.

"Victori...Victor" the voice corrected itself. "May I come in?"

"You know, this is the opposite of staying away" Jadelyn responded still not opening the door.

"I know," Victor replied. "I am very sorry but I had to talk to you. I do not know how long in town I would be and it was very important that I cleared the air, as they say..."

He didn't realize Jadelyn preparing to let him in as he continued to babble like a fool.

"Alright," she sighed. "Come in."

Victor nodded and accepted the invite. Jadelyn began to walk across the length of her loft.

"Speak," she said.

"Well, Jadelyn" the Spaniard already sounding out of breath. "I'm sorry but when it comes to saying what is on my brain..."

"Mind?" she corrected.

"Mind what?"

The dark-haired woman chuckled. She always found it amusing when translation would completely lose things like British idioms or sarcasm.

"I..." Victor's breathing was not sounding any healthier. "I have trouble with words..."

"That is an understatement."

"The thing is, Jadelyn; I am fond of you. Very, actually. And I thought it would be respectful to you by being honest with how I feel."

She sat on her bed and looked out the window. Victor couldn't help but fixate on the empty nightstand where presumably the flowers he sent her years ago once stood.

"You know, Victor; I would be lying if I said I did not feel something for you in return but it cannot work between us."

Victor tilted his head quizzically. "Why not?"

"You are the sweetest man I have ever met," she said glassy-eyed. "But that is exactly the problem."

The first thing made Victor smile and the second thing she said made it leave his face.

Victor took Jadelyn's hand. "I don't understand."

"Of course you couldn't," she said shaking her head. "No one could..."

She leaned in closer to Victor, narrowing her gaze. Jadelyn scrunched up her nose and parted her lips.

"That's a fake mustache," the brunette said, standing up.

Victor backed up a couple steps, covering his upper lip.

"What do you mean?" he asked pathetically.

"I have been around too many actors and costumers," she shot back, pointing at Victor's shoulder. "I knew something was off and now this close, I can see it's phony. Why?"

The Spaniard said nothing.

"Answer me," Jadelyn demanded, folding her arms and planting herself on the bed.

"Let me show you something, please" Victor pleaded.

Jadelyn sighed and gestured with her open hand for him to proceed.

Victor looked around the room, an act of subterfuge while finding the courage to do what he was thinking. His eyes settled on a Decca record sitting at the top of a pile of vinyl singles. It was "Guilty" performed by Al Bowlly with Roy Fox and His Orchestra.

Jadelyn turned her head slightly in confusion. "What are you...?"

Before she could finish her thought, Victor had already put the record on the player and placed the needle in position. A scratchy sound was then muted by the band beginning to play. It was a big band type song, which Jadelyn had a few sitting around. She was mostly a jazz and classical enthusiast but this one found its way into her collection because of the melancholy feeling she got from it.

Victor closed his eyes, listening to the brass and strings, no doubt performing to inspire dancing. A waltz, perhaps. The instrumental went on for well over a minute before Al Bowlly himself began.

Is it a sin, is it a crime
Loving you, dear, like I do?
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty
Guilty of loving you

Victor reluctantly took off his hat, staring at Jadelyn's vanity mirror. Long, thing fingers peeled off the mustache.

Maybe I'm wrong
Dreaming of you
Dreaming the lonely night through
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty
Guilty of dreaming of you

He reached behind his head and unfurled her long brown hair.

What can I do
What can I say
After I've taken the blame?
You say you're through
You'll go your way
But I'll always feel just the same

Victoria took a deep breath and turned around, using all her strength to look at Jadelyn in the eye.

Maybe I'm right
Maybe I'm wrong
Loving you, dear, like I do
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty
Guilty of loving you

Even when the song finished and the record player was reduced to a hush, Jadelyn's mouth did not close.

Victoria bit her lip and physically braced herself for a response.


A/N: Well, that secret's out if you'll pardon the pun.

TRIVIA: Al Bowlly's last song ever recorded was a satirical shot at Hitler titled "When That Man Is Dead and Gone" in 1941. Ironically, the singer died two weeks later during an air raid.

P.S. That song "Guilty" can also be heard of in the movie Amelie. If you haven't seen it, you really need to. The part of the movie where you hear the song is crucial (has to do with revelations between characters).