| IMPORTANT NOTES |
○ This is set between the tenth and eleventh books (Into the Gauntlet and Vespers Rising, respectively) of the 39 Clues, not including the certain flashbacks○
○ I do not own either of the series. The 39 Clues belongs to Rick Riordan and Axis Powers Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekazu ○
During the trip, they were silent.
The whole effin' time.
They didn't even cater to Saladin's constant Mrrp-ing (with various meanings ranging from "Did you bring me by red snapper?" to "Hey, at least let me sleep on your lap!").
About an hour later, Nellie actually had the stomach to break the dead silence. "Are we there yet?" she whined as she carried on turning the pages of the magazine she snatched from the academy. She'd already read it for more than a dozen times, but it least it was better than to sit, wait, and hope for the best (which was not easy, mind you).
On the speakers rang Feliciano Vargas's childish musing. "Ve~ Not yet, bella, but we will be there soon enough!"
Did he just call me bella? Nellie thought, surprised as she is. If Feliciano wasn't part of the opposition, he would have turned the au pair on just now. He didn't even look that much older than her, too...
She shook her head.
This isn't the time to hit on guys, she thought critically. Not now.
Feliciano may not been able to turn Nellie on, but his next few words did.
"After we arrive at Catanzaro, we'll hitch a plane to Milano~!"
Catanzaro.
Some random port.
Lots of fishermen.
The beating sun.
Unhappy Cahill children.
But Nellie was excited. She was getting all jumpy and stuff. Even Saladin was eager to travel to Milan, but only after Feliciano teased him with the fresh fish waiting for the hungry Egyptian Mau in a large cold storage room.
Neither of the Cahills were as giddy, though.
The Italian noticed this. He approached them.
"Ve~ Is something the matter, Dan?" Feliciano gently asked the boy, tilting his head to the side and making an innocent, confused face.
"I'm not on a first name basis with people who try to threaten me and my family," Dan spat at the Italian and walked around and past him.
Amy did not speak a single to word to Feliciano, and she avoided his gaze as she tailed her brother.
The Italian man's shoulders slumped as he watched them put a great measure of distance between each other.
Nellie walked over to him and, gingerly and hesitantly, placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry, Mr. Vargas," she told him with empathy. "They'll warm up to you soon enough."
The man turned his head towards her. "R-really?" He sounded so desperate. So hopeful.
Nellie couldn't say any other word but 'yes'.
"And this is where you'll be staying."
While the Cahill children stood at the doorway, Nellie didn't waste a single second in rushing inside and collapsing into the bed. She kicked her sneakers off and plugged in her earbuds, soon mouthing lyrics and shifting her head to the rhythm of a rock-ish ballad. An ear-piercing, brain-busting tune was not fit for the time being, so she settled with the ballad.
Feliciano had taken them to a small, one-star hotel in the lesser part of town.
Their 'lesser' seems like a three-star hotel, Nellie had thought earlier.
It was on the fourth floor. The room was moderate in size, its walls were painted a pearly white with intricate designs carved into some parts of it, the carpet looked a tad bit expensive (if you ignore its dustiness), and there were three individual beds for each of them to rest in.
"Please do make yourselves comfortable," Feliciano told them with a smile as sweet as chocolate. "I'll come back for you tomorrow. So for now, you rest up, okay?"
With a final wave goodbye, he left the Madrigals to themselves.
"See, kiddos?" Nellie glanced back and forth between Dan lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling and Amy sitting quietly on her bed as she twisted a piece of her hair. "He really does care about our safety."
"Nellie, you only trust him because he took us to Milan."
Here he goes again. Being all cold and indecent. Dan's been utterly atrocious since they left the island.
"That is so not true!" their au pair said defensively. "It's not that at all."
"Then, what is it, Nellie?" Amy spoke to her for the first time in hours. Her voice was trembling, full of fear and hesitation. "Why do you trust him? That Mr. Vargas?"
"Geez, you guys," Nellie sighed heavily and rubbed her head, annoyed. She was sick and tired of their stubbornness and cold shoulders. "Can't you learn to trust someone?"
"Not after what he did to us," Dan replied, his tone dark and venomous. He turned on his side, his gaze away from Nellie. He seemed to given up on her.
Nellie could sense the mistrust for her Dan was building up deep inside him, so she turned to Amy. Her hopes were shattered just as easily, though, because Amy looked down at the floor and meekly said, "I'm sorry, Nellie, but I agree with Dan."
The au pair slapped her forehead and groaned.
A loud yawn escaped Nellie's mouth as she stretched her arms out wide. Bright, warm sunlight was spilling into the pearl white room. Some birds were chirping outside, and the streets below had already begun to bustle.
The gorgeous Egyptian Mau on the velvet pillow beside Nellie's bed copied her morning routine (Uh, a copycat?). The au pair smiled at it and allowed the cat to hop onto her bed, and she gave it a good scratch behind its ear.
"G'morning, little guy," she said quietly, careful not to wake Amy and Dan.
The problem was, neither of them were there.
The room was empty except for Nellie and Saladin.
A sudden, and greatly familiar feeling struck her.
She rushed out of bed, toppling Saladin off it (who gave her an angry Mrrp! and a spiteful hiss), and searched the room for them.
"Amy? Dan? Kiddos? Where are you?"
Much to her relief, the door suddenly opened and there were the Cahill children held by their shoulders by a man's firm grip. Neither the children nor the man was in a good mood.
"Signora, I found them sneaking out of the hotel a few moments ago," the man droned in a deep Italian accent. He let go of Amy and Dan, and they rushed to Nellie's side. "Il maestro instructed us not to allow you out of this establishment without his knowledge."
"Yeah, thanks," Nellie said with a sheepish smile and went for the door. "We'll keep that in mind." With that, she closed the door and locked it.
Turning on her heel, she shot an icy glare at the children. "Really, guys, really? And this early in the morning?"
Amy had her arms across her chest, and she was not in a sunny mood. "We're not comfortable with this, Nellie."
The au pair hung her head and sighed heavily. Again with this 'trust no one' thing...Darn you, McIntyre!
"Look kiddos, will you at least keep it together until Mr. Vargas comes back?"
"To kill us?" Dan chimed in, full of sarcasm. "Oh yeah, we'll definitely wait."
"And how are you so sure about that?" Nellie asked him, her hands now on her hips and her eyes watching Dan like a hawk.
"Trust me, Nellie, I should know."
The au pair was about to argue more when a sudden knock came to their door. Nellie opened it, and she hoped that it wouldn't be that creepy man from a couple of minutes ago.
Her prayers were answered.
It was Feliciano Vargas, prepped up in a chef's outfit and pushing a cart topped with a heavy-duty breakfast. With his usual, happy-go-lucky smile and equally easy-going mannerisms, he greeted the Madrigals and entered the room.
Nellie boggled at the food. She swore she could have felt her salivary glands overworking themselves at that moment. "Mr. Vargas, you got us some breakfast?"
"Si," the Italian man complied, "and I made this all by myself, too~!"
"No. Friggin'. Way."
Right now, even Dan and Amy had their attention caught by Feliciano. They were staring at the food on the table, and you could probably tell that their eyes were dilating and their mouths were watering. And yes, their stomachs were rumbling. LIKE A SPANISH BULL CHARGING.
"So, shall we eat?" Mr. Vargas proposed.
The entire group, including Saladin, did no action of declining that wondrous offer.
Feliciano and Nellie arranged the food on the coffee table surrounded by a sofa and two armchairs.
Risotto, eggs, fresh vegetables, cheeses, morning tea, coffee, and milk, and bread. It looked like a breakfast fit for a king.
They settled down and began to eat.
And the whole cart was swept clean in minutes.
Dan let out a loud, hearty burp. His sister's face was full of disgust, Nellie was giggling, Saladin didn't mind it (the poor thing was too busy finishing his fatty tuna), and Feliciano looked a bit shocked.
"Ve~ Was it really that good?" the Italian asked Dan.
The boy replied by rubbing his satisfied belly and beaming at the man. "So...delicious..." He could barely get the words out of his mouth.
"I...I liked the risotto, Mr. Vargas." This was from Amy. Her face was flushed, and she was struggling to say the words. "A-and...I think your cooking is the best."
After seconds of silence, Feliciano grinned and breathlessly said, "Grazie mille."
Finally, Nellie's thoughts of relief rang in her head. Some peace within the group.
"Stop denying it, kiddos." Nellie was pestering Amy and Dan as they got dressed for the day ahead of them. "I know that you like him."
Dan's head had just popped out of the shirt hole he'd been struggling through for the past ten minutes. He looked up at Nellie. "Who?"
"I think she's talking about Mr. Vargas, Dan," Amy told him as she slipped on her sneakers.
"Oh, well I think he's okay," Dan said nonchalantly.
Nonchalant as it was, that didn't stop Nellie from hugging him.
"N-Nellie! Hey! Take it easy!"
She pulled away, and still bothered to pat his shoulder like a proud parent (well, she is one their legal guardians). "Sorry 'bout that. I'm just..."
"Ecstatic?" Dan answered for her. "Yeah, I know."
'Happy' would have been enough, Nellie pointed out in her mind. And since when did the word 'ecstatic' enter my daily vocabulary?
A rapping on the door.
"It's-a me~!" came Feliciano's voice.
"Ah, can you wait a sec, Mr. Vargas?" Nellie relayed. "We're still fixing up!"
"Si, si, I understand," the Italian replied. "Take your time, then!"
With a bit of a rush, the Madrigals were ready to go.
Then, Amy raised a question. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, Mr. Vargas but..." Her eyes rested on Saladin lazying around on his comfy velvet pillow by Nellie's bed.
"Oh, si! Your cat can come as well," the Italian told her, beaming. "I have something special waiting for him, as well."
With Saladin tailing behind them (because he deliberately refused to be carried around in that cramped pet carrier of his), Feliciano proceeded to walking them out of the hotel and onto the streets of Milan.
"Welcome to Milano!" the Italian man proclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "This is the fashion capital, and we have a lot of tourists and locals coming here from year-to-year. The shops around that district over there are especially popular."
Up ahead was a particular street filled with people who looked like they were dressed for the runway. They were very beautiful people. Stores with the likes of Gucci and Chanel lined the lovely street.
This street was practically screaming, "Victoria Beckham is a chump compared to the people who roam here."
Amy, Dan, and Nellie were just there, staring at the glamorous avenue with their mouths agape, among the dozens of equally fabulous individuals walking around the place.
Dan's expression quickly changed, though. "Please, tell me that we aren't here to shop!" he begged Mr. Vargas with desperate eyes. "I dread it!"
Amy stared at her brother in disbelief. "'I dread it'?"
"You heard me right, Amy," Dan told her. "I shall dread the moment we step into a single shop because I absolutely loathe shopping."
Now even Nellie was staring at him. "Freaky influx of vocabulary much?"
"You're the one who's being freaky," Dan told their au pair. "Using the word 'influx' and all..."
And here comes Amy to the rescue.
She cut in between them and held them back from each other. "Look, will you two just lay off this whole vocabulary business? And I think we've lost Mr. Vargas!"
"Nope, he's right over there," Dan said, pointing at Feliciano over at a green-walled store. He was waving at them, gesturing their group to come after him, which they immediately obeyed.
It was a strange little shop. First of all, the sign outside was not in Italian, but in Greek (as suggested by Amy and Nellie, and who would argue?). Next, the whole place was empty except for the various olden artifacts and the cats loitering around the place. It stunk of digging site and cat lady. Lastly, it looked like no one was even watching the shop.
Feliciano approached the counter and rang the bell. There was no answer.
"Heracles?" he called out.
"Heracles?" Dan whispered in Amy's ear. "Isn't that — "
Without him even finishing his question, his sister nodded slowly.
It was already the third time Feliciano tried shouting the name.
"Mr. Vargas, are you even sure that there's someone here?" Nellie asked him.
"Si, signora," he told her. "Maybe he's just in a deep sleep again..."
He cupped his hands around his mouth and leaned over the counter. With a really loud voice, he yelled, "HERACLES! It'sa me, Ital — er, I mean, FELICIANO VARGAS! PLEASE WAKE UP AND COME OUT!"
The next minute, a brown-haired Mediterranean man emerged from behind the shop. He had tan skin, messy, curly hair and two strange curly pieces of it sticking out the top of his head. The man was slowly making his way towards them, and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"Oh, Feliciano." He looked slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. His voice came out mostly as drone or just a yawn. "It's good to see you."
He managed to pull out a smile, warm and welcoming, behind all that drowsiness.
"So, what brings you here today?" he asked Feliciano. Just then, he spotted the three Madrigals and Saladin in Dan's arms. "Oh, you've brought others. They have a very cute kitty." A slight redness appeared on his cheeks.
"Heracles, would you mind taking care of Saladin?" the Italian man asked the other.
"Is that his name? Saladin?" Heracles was walking towards Dan and began inspecting Saladin. "His breed looks utterly familiar..." He was scratching his chin for a moment, and later came up with a conclusion. "An Egyptian Mau, perhaps?"
Dan answered with a nod. "Yes, sir."
A brief smirk appeared on Heracles' face. "I remember seeing so many of them during Gupta's mother's golden years, and how I would practically swim in half a Nile with just them in it."
"That's both awesome," Nellie spoke up, " and disturbing." She finished with a shrug.
Amy nudged her.
"So...you're gonna take him now?" Dan asked the man.
He slowly nodded in response and held his arms out.
But Dan recoiled. He held Saladin tight in his arms like a child not wanting to give up his favorite toy.
"It's alright, Dan," Feliciano tried to ease his tension. "It'll only be for a day."
Dan looked in the eyes of Heracles.
They look like the eyes of someone I can trust...right?
In the end, he reluctantly handed the Egyptian Mau over to the man.
They actually expected Saladin to thrash and resist.
But he didn't.
He was purring and Mrrp-ing in Heracles' loving arms.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Feliciano stood next to Heracles and introduced the man. "Amy, Dan, Nellie, this is my very good friend and neighbor, Heracles Karpussi~! He's a magician with cats and digging up old stuff from the past!"
At that moment, none of the three Madrigals could suppress their laughter.
"Pfffft — Karpussi?"
Heracles tilted his head slightly to the side and nonchalantly asked them, "Is there something wrong with my surname?"
"N-no!" Nellie shrieked while fighting back the giggles. "It's just t-that — oh, who am I kidding...BWAHAHAHAHA!"
"Dude," Dan laughed, "you're last name's Karpussi and you're awesome with cats! How wicked is that?"
'Karpussi' was just about winning over 'Wang' in the Funniest Surname Category.
The Madrigal trio and Feliciano Vargas sat at the back of a delivery truck painted in the colors in the Italian flag. Their next destination: Madrid. At least that's what Feliciano told them.
Amy and Dan had protested as to why they couldn't just take a faster route by plane, or why they even had to go to a city right across two national borders. And besides, what was the point of leaving your stuff and pet at a hotel and store, respectively, where your actual destination is that far away?
But alas, Nellie was heavily persuasive. She pinned the children down onto a decision that was in her own favor.
"I still can't believe how it he took that all in without a single flinch." Nellie was marveling at Mr. Karpussi's indifference to their jeering. "I mean, the dude was all poker-face on us the whole time!"
Feliciano beamed at them. "You see? I love my friends~!"
As they talked, the truck would lurch backwards and forwards from time to time, jumping at every bump in the road encountered (whether a precautionary speed bump or otherwise), and honk at all unwanted vehicles and individuals in their path.
"Ve~ I am awfully sorry for this," the Italian man apologized to them. "Felicia isn't exactly the best driver in the world. But hey, you know us Italians."
He was suddenly interrupted by loud cursing in Italian coming the driver's seat. Then came a heavily accented female voice. "Speak for yourself, you big oaf! You're no better than me!"
"Hey, Nellie, it seems that your and Mr. Vargas' roots may not be that far from each other!" Dan mocked their au pair, who knocked him in the head in response.
In the meantime, Amy was at a corner, admiring the self-satisfying Italian countryside. She approximated the trip to be a bit over two days by truck (and that's only getting out of Italian territory) , but it definitely felt a lot faster than she expected. Maybe the scenery didn't whip past her, but the time sure did, because half an hour later they were at the border between France and Italy.
Beyond all this, Dan and Amy were highly suspicious.
They heard a car door slam up front. The truck driver, Felicia, looked very much Mr. Vargas. She had the same auburn hair and brown eyes as he did. Heck, she even had the same carefree expression as he did. Well, at least she did before the trip. Now, she wore a frown on her face and her hands were on her hips.
"Well, Feliciano, here we are." She was glaring at Mr. Vargas. If she just wasn't wearing that expression right now, the Madrigals would have been convinced that she and Feliciano were basically gender-bent versions of each other.
Everyone else jumped out of the truck and landed on the road below, kicking up some dust and dirt.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" Felicia asked the other Italian.
Feliciano shook his head. "No, this will be all for now. Grazie mille for your help, bella."
His gender-bent version, lightening up a bit, smirked. "Feh. Don't you sweet-talk you way out of this, Feliciano. We both know that you cost me my precious two hours!"
With that, she got back behind the wheel and drove off until their couldn't make up the truck beyond the horizon.
"Are we gonna cross the border or what?" Nellie asked Feliciano as she stared intently on the other side of the wooden fence. "I haven't exactly been to the French countryside before."
"Ah? Oh, no, no, no, Signora Gomez." Feliciano disagreed with her, much to her dismay. "We are going to travel by air."
"By plane?" Amy asked.
"Again?" Dan groaned.
Just then, they were greeted by the rapid sounds and high winds created by the black helicopter hovering above them. From the copter hung a rope ladder with a woman waving down at them from a great height. And despite the thunderous noise produced by the spinning blades of the helicopter, the woman's voice came out loud and clear.
"Hey, Feli!" said the woman in an Italian accent. "Congratulate us! We managed to talk Sadiq into lending us his copter!"
The people on the ground were looking up at the copter and the woman on the rope ladder. Feliciano and the Madrigal trio were shielding their eyes from the bright sunlight and whipping winds.
"Who's she, Mr. Vargas?" Dan screamed above the noise.
"She is Lovina," explained Feliciano, "another bella."
[Author's Notes]
Well, I really do hope everybody will be content with this chapter, because I won't be posting any more for the next few weeks.
Sorry to disappoint you but I'm really trying to keep my grades up (I'm actually failing at school) and I really don't have the time and patience to whip up the next chapter lickity-split.
Oh, hold your horses there. Just because I don't have much to write nor do I even have the sufficient Internet connection to post them doesn't mean I don't put enough effort into making these works. I really try my best to write up chapters that could satisfy the reader and myself. If it doesn't comply with either of the two conditions, why do you think I would even dare show it to you guys?