When Matthew opened his eyes he was still sitting in the church pew, but the old man was gone. He rubbed his eyes, trying to push away the grogginess. Then sat up straight in the pew, only glancing at his watch for a second before jumping up.

How in hell had he fallen asleep?

He'd only lost a few minutes, though that in and of itself felt unreal. The dream was only coming to him in bits and pieces, but it seemed as if he should have been out for hours. Until he got back to the car and looked at the clock on the radio, he didn't completely believe his watch hadn't stopped… that he hadn't spent hours sleeping somewhere warm while his brother was…

Somewhere.

Matthew slammed his hand into the steering wheel.

He had absolutely no clue about where to go. No idea whatsoever. He should have called someone. Asked some of his neighbors. But no, he'd been an idiot, wandering around with some half-baked… not even plan. There'd been no plan. Just a need to find Alfred.

His head fell back again the seat, and he raked his hand through his hair, nearly growling out his breath in frustration.

The longer he sat the agitated he felt, and the more pieces of that dream came back. Snow and ice, a dark cloud over everything... and his brother. The sick feeling of dread washed over him and he shivered, despite having the heat going.

There wasn't any point in sitting there. But there wasn't any point in driving around with no idea of where to go either.

Matthew sat up, backed out of the parking space and pulled out onto the road again, heading towards home.

He didn't want to admit it, but there was a very small part of him that whispered, perhaps, there might be something calling him home, some small bit that still held onto that strange twin connection with his brother.

He knew in his mind though, that the lights would still be out, the house empty.

He was right, in both regards.

A human shaped form was sitting on the steps, streetlight shining off his blond hair.

Matthew let out a sigh as he turned off the engine, and then stepped out of the car and jogged towards the door.

Alfred was leaned over, curled nearly in a ball with his head on his knees and his arms wrapped around his torso. He didn't look up as Matthew approached, but he was shaking. Matthew kneeled down in front of him, opening Alfred's coat up and laying it over him. He pulled it tight.

"I l-lost your s-scarf Mattie," Alfred whispered, without lifting his head up.

"Idiot," Matthew said, pressing his now gloveless hands against his brother's face. "Where the hell were you? And why didn't you go inside? You're frozen."

He didn't wait for an answer, stepping away from his brother long enough to dig his keys out of his pocket and undo the door. When he turned back to his brother to help him up, Alfred just stared at him for a moment. And then his brother unwound an arm from his waist and took Matthew's hand, lifting himself up off the steps.

Matthew reached an arm around his brother's shoulder and pulled him inside, over to the couch. Alfred sat down heavily and Matthew jerked the throw off the back of it, pulling the blanket tightly around his brother.

He lifted Alfred's hands up and examined it. He shook his head. They were red, but they didn't look too bad. How in the heck…

"Kuma?" he yelled. He'd left the bear napping when he'd left. "Kuma!"

"What?" the bear grumbled, a few moments later as he wandered in sleepily from the hall, too slowly.

Matthew met him halfway, picked him and set him down on his brother's lap. "Stay here."

"He's cold," the bear complained.

Alfred smiled, "T-thought you were a p-polar bear. Can't stand cold f-fingers?" And he buried his hands into the bears pelt, giving a little tickle.

Matthew blinked. Felt something in him loosen that had been bound tight for weeks. "Behave. Both of you."

Alfred just shrugged, pulling Kumakichi in closer.

The bear looked ready to protest, but with a glance from Matthew settled down sufficiently.

Matthew got up and walked towards the stairs, turning the thermostat up on the way, and went up to his room. He pulled a pair of pajamas out of his drawers. The warmest softest pair he could find.

On the way back down he dug the electric blanket and a few extra quilts out of the hall closet.

Alfred was still sitting in the same position as before, with Kumakichi curled up against his stomach. He was shivering.

Matthew wrapped a few more layers of blankets around his brother.

"What's w-wrong?"

He stared at Alfred, incredulous. He clenched his fists, unclenched them. "Idiot!" he spat. "Of all the stupid things to do!" He yelled.

Alfred winced and looked at the floor.

Matthew groaned, and closed his eyes. Yelling wasn't going to help. He sat down beside Alfred on the couch, and after a moment he felt his brother lean against his side.

"Sorry," Alfred whispered.

He felt the fight rush out of him, taking all of his energy with it, it seemed. He let out a shuddering breath. "You scared me."

Alfred sat back, and looked at him with one of the most frustratingly perplexed expressions Matthew had ever seen. "I'm f-fine M-Mattie."

Matthew swallowed, frowned. "Damn it, Al."

He could feel his brother tense up against him and he sighed, sitting back against the couch and pulling his brother with him. After a moment, Alfred's relaxed again. "This isn't just a Christmas thing is it?" he asked.

Matthew could feel Alfred shake his head. He reached across and tightened the blankets around his brother's shoulders. "How long?"

Alfred shrugged. "I can't remember winter not sucking."

Matthew pulled back to see Alfred's face. "Al-"

"Hey. I sh-shouldn't complain so much now. I mean we've got central heating and f-food's not so much of an issue now. I mean there's always hungry people, still, and it's c-cold and dark and-"

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Matthew interrupted when he couldn't stand anymore; couldn't stand seeing his brother's expression darkening with each word.

Alfred looked surprised, and stared at Matthew for a moment, before looking back down at his hands. "Didn't see th-the point. It's just how I am, I guess. Winter comes and… well. This. But then spring comes and I'm good again, so…" he shrugged. "J-just figured it was normal for me. That's all."

"There's nothing about this that's normal Al… And just because something's going to get better doesn't mean it's okay that it's hurting to begin with."

Alfred winced, huddling down into the blankets, pulling them tightly around him.

"Is this the reason I don't see you during the winter?" Matthew asked. "Cause I'm so cold and-"

"No." Alfred said bluntly, then winced. "I mean… maybe? But-"

Matthew stood back up, struggling with that last bit of hurt. The years of-

"Matt?" Alfred said, "Mattie. That's not what I- I don't see anyone- Ow. Stop that fish-breath."

Matthew glanced back over and frowned. His brother was pulling off the blankets and Kuma was holding onto his leg, stopping Alfred from lifting him up off his lap.

He sighed and walked back over. Sat back down on the couch and stopped his brother from squirming, readjusting the blankets around him.

"Sorry." Alfred said, looking at him. "I don't see anyone during winter. Just Tony and Whale and Unicorn, and then if we have a me-meeting or something then… It's just-" He winced. "It's hard Matt."

Matthew thought about the other day with Mr. Burns and the few times they'd been out. The way anytime they were a few feet from another person that horrible strained grin would be one his brother's face. How utterly exhausted his brother always was afterwards.

"I just-" Alfred continued. "I avoid everyone like the plague." Alfred shivered a little and pulled the blanket a little closer. "It wasn't ever an issue until now. No one really pays attention to it. Didn't think…" he shrugged. "That was really stupid, canceling the party and stuff. But…" he glanced over at his brother. "Making you think that was even stupider."

"Keeping it a secret this long was what was stupid." Matthew leaned over, resting a bit of weight on his brother.

"Matt. No offense, but I think we've both been kinda stupid."

Matthew opened his mouth to protest, but then caught himself. "I've been pushing too hard," he admitted, after a moment. "Isn't that a flip?" He said, with a weak smile.

"Like you decided to try a back handspring and changed your mind halfway through." Alfred was grumbling, but there was a smile on his face. One that actually managed to reach his eyes.

Matthew smiled back. It wasn't his brother's normal one hundred watt smile by far, but it made his eyes shine. "That bad, huh? I'll pull back a bit. Maybe take a few things do-"

"Like hell you will," Alfred said, with a slightly brighter smile. "We got all that stuff out of the basement. I'm not putting it up until I have to. Besides," he continued, "We take any of that stuff down and we've got no shot at all in the lights contest."

"You feeling up for it?"

Alfred glanced over at him. "Hell yeah," he said, and despite the tiredness in his voice it sounded genuine. He leaned back, and stretched, letting the blankets slip off his head and droop down his shoulders. "Just… it has been a lot. Everything. You meant well, I think. But… you can ease off a bit."

"Maybe call the bet off?" Matthew asked.

Alfred nodded, and yawned.

Matthew reached over towards Alfred, adjusting the blankets over him once again. "Still not letting you sleep in 'til noon."

Alfred made a face. "You suck. It's Christmas vacation. You have to sleep in 'til noon. It's like required or something."

"Doesn't count if you're not in school. It's a rule. At least in Canada."

"Dude, you are so full of it," Alfred grumbled.

Things were quiet for a moment, but the frozen quality Matthew had been fighting against for the better part of two weeks seemed to have melted away.

"Hot chocolate?" Alfred asked.

"Sure," Matthew said, feeling a little more weight lift off of him. "Gotta warm up somehow."

"The good stuff?"

Matthew smiled. "Why not."

"…and pancakes?"

Matthew laughed. "A few minutes ago you looked like you were going to fall asleep sitting there. Now you want fed?"

"I kinda walked out on dinner."

Matthew winced. "And you want pancakes?"

"Is that okay?"

"Of course its okay. Bacon too." He started to stand up, but suddenly there were arms around his waist, squeezing, and a still too cool nose against his neck.

"You're the best, Mattie."

There was something in Al's voice, and Matthew knew he wasn't just expressing his appreciation of his cooking. A thank you that was too big to be vocalized. He reached his own arms around his brother, arms going under the assorted layers of fabric.

Kumakichi grumbled at the two of them, shifting in Alfred's lap and pushing against Matthew's stomach. "They weren't that good."

Arthur woke with a jerk, gasping for breath with his heart pounding in his chest. He looked about, wildly, through the tears in his eyes.

Where was he? Oh god, where was… was…

He swallowed as the details of the nightmare disappeared. He rubbed his arms, feeling his limbs tremble. He looked down at them, expecting to see dark crimson.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, swiping at the wetness with his sleeve. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and shivered. Not from the nightmare, he realized. It was cold

Bloody fucking cold.

The thermostat was still set at a normal temperature. He made sure of that, walking down the hall huddling under a cloak of blankets to check the damn thing. Standing in front of it, utterly perplexed, he ran his hand through sweat soaked hair and was surprised not to find icy tips.

The unexplainable cold clung onto him, even as he walked back to his room and pulled out the thickest pair of socks he could find, and then, still robed in blankets, made his way downstairs towards the kitchen.

Making a cup of tea was so ingrained in him that he didn't have to think about the process, but he forced himself to anyway. He focused on filling the water, and breathed in the scent of tea as he opened up the cabinet. He stood there, making a deliberate choice. It had to be just the right tea. The right cup. At least that way he could make one part of his existence feel right.

A tiny glint of silver caught his eye as he pushed aside a box, in favor of another. Arthur grabbed it, lifting it away and revealing a figure with familiar silvery wings.

"Neva," he said, recognizing the rogue snow fairy. "What are you doing here?"

She squeaked and turned around to face him, frowning. She clutched a small red sack to her chest.

"What do you have?"

She raised her eyebrows at him and shook her head, her lips pressed in a tight line.

"Neva," he warned. "What are you doing in my tea cabinet?"

She opened her mouth for a moment, shut it, and then disappeared.

He frowned, pursed his lips. Perhaps a cup of tea wouldn't be such a good idea after all.

An icy wind blew through the trees. In front of him, in his hands, danced a tiny warm flame. It danced, flickering, as the gust of wind hit him, and he pulled it closer into his body.

Beyond the flame the darkness shifted, moving out into the clearing.

"Hello Alfred," the Dark growled.

Alfred stepped back. "I got rid of you. I don't have to be afraid of you anymore."

"If you believe any of that you really are as stupid as everyone thinks you are."

Alfred could feel his shoulders pulling forward, hunching around his flame.

It was growing dimmer. He shook himself, calling up all the warm feeling he could. It didn't seem to do much good.

He hissed in, as a cold burning filled his chest. He looked down to see blood.

"Oh," it said, and suddenly it was before him. "Did you really think yourself rid of me?" Its teeth flash again.

"Stupid child."

It leaped at him. He raised his arms up in one last defense and-

Jolted awake. He pushed himself back in the bed until his shoulders hit the headboard and cast his eyes about the room wildly.

Nothing there… there's nothing there, he kept telling himself, though the room looked darker than it should have been. Hands cast about wildly for the flashlight he'd brought with him, for his phone. His hands moved through the blankets desperately, finding nothing.

He clenched his eyes shut and curled forward.

It was there, stalking him. He knew it. Could feel its presence in the corners of the room, could almost hear its claws clicking against the floor boards.

His breath caught in his throat as he breathed in, turned into a tight whine as he breathed out.

"Al?"

"Mattie?" He asked, and his voice was so small, his eyes flew open and he gasped. Why, why did that scare him so much?

"Are you alright?" Matthew asked from the hallway.

"Y-ye-" he began to stutter out. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed. "No. Could you-"

And just like that, the door was opened and light flooded into the room.

He nearly sobbed in relief.

Matthew walked into the room and sat on the bed, looking at his hands and his face and-"Nightmare?"

He ducked his head, away from Matt's view, feeling more than a little ridiculous.

"Hey no," Matthew said, pulling his head back around. "It's okay. Dreams can- dreams can be messed up." He sighed. "I wasn't sleeping so great myself…"

And now that it was mentioned Alfred could see that; the tension in his brother's form and the tightness on his face. The just-too-high quality of his voice.

"Matt, can I…" Alfred bit his lip, preparing for the look, the dismissal. "Do you wanna-"

"Come on," Matthew said with a relieved smile, Alfred's question evidently coming across clear even without the last few words.

Moments later they were settling into Matt's room, having a quick scuffle with the blankets, a tug of war neither were overly serious about. Alfred still had his flashlight beside him, as well as his phone, even thought they'd left the light in the hallway on, let it illuminate the room enough to alleviate some of the darkness.

And yeah, Alfred thought, grabbing hold of a pillow, this was much better, even if he had to deal with a grumbling polar bear. Matt's room was lived in. Felt like him. He could feel Matt anywhere within his borders, but here… He relaxed down into the blankets, against his brother and the small furry oven that was Kuma.

"So," Matthew said after a moment, when Alfred's breaths had began to even out somewhat, the panic losing its last hold over him. "What was your dr-"

Alfred shook his head against his brother's shoulder. He refused to invite that into this space. Then he smiled, without humor. "Monster. I'll protect you."

If Matthew heard any of the self-mockery he didn't acknowledge it. He just pulled Alfred in further against himself. Nodded. "Me too."

Alfred's eyes opened, his lashes brushing against the soft cotton of Matt's top. He wrapped an arm around his brother's waist, felt Matt's hold on him tighten.

Heard Matthew's sleepy rumble, "We can protect each other."

He felt something inside of him finally uncoil, loosen; yielded to the warmth and let himself drift.

Matthew sat on the couch, some random made-for-tv Christmas movie playing… well, paused for the moment, in the background. He hadn't been paying much attention to the story line. It had a cowboy in it, and an astronomer. It wasn't great, but Al had picked it voluntarily.

His attention was on the laptop sitting in front of him. It hadn't taken long to find what he'd needed. A quick search turned up pages of results: health sites, statistics, articles. It made him feel a little better about his decisions over the past bit, even if a few of them had just seemed to lead to disaster. So much of it was about getting out of the house, exercising, socializing. At least he'd had the right idea.

Something told him though, that it might take a little more in Alfred's case.

The sites kept mentioning something about a light box. They could at least start with that for the moment. Of course, their status' as nations always threw a wrench into treating any sort of illness. You never knew if the problem was something arising from your own human body or if it was something to do with being a national personification.

Matthew hoped, glancing at his brother who was on the phone across the room, it was just the former in this case.

"Yeah," Alfred said with a frown, "I didn't mean to leave you guys han-" The frown melted and was replaced by a small smile. "No, I'm starting to feel a little better now. Matt-" Alfred's smile grew. "Yeah my brother. He brought me up here for Christmas."

Alfred pulled the phone away from his ear at the rather loud, happy, response. Matthew could hear bits of it across the room. "Yeah it's been…" Alfred glanced over at him, "It's been good. It's helped… a lot." Alfred turned around, towards the kitchen. "I'll go ahead and let you get back to things. Don't want to keep you from your lunch- Yeah I know you don't mind but that doesn't me-" he paused. "I know Miss Lisa. I won't."

Matthew turned back to the computer in front of him. Things had been better that day, so far. He'd still call Alfred a little 'low', tired and prone to melancholy, but it was a marked improvement compared to the previous day.

"Hey Mattie?" Al said, walking back in and resting his arms against the back of the couch.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking up from the laptop.

"So I usually spend a lot of time at this community center. But I haven't since Thanksgiving…"

"Al, I think considering the circumstances…"

Alfred shrugged. "Yeah, Miss Lisa said pretty much the same thing, but…"

"You know, sometimes you have to help yourself before you help others," Matthew said.

Alfred glanced at the computer screen, making a face. "Don't start getting all motivational poster on me, kay?"

"My point still stands."

Alfred shook his head. "These people have been really good to me and I have an idea."

And that's how they found themselves with a couple of shopping carts walking down the aisles of Toys r us.

When Alfred had one of those ideas nothing got in his way.

"Al, I seriously hope you don't intend on mailing this stuff out. It's gonna cost a fortune."

"Course not," Alfred said, turning around from a display of craft kits. "Gotta help them unpack stuff after all. I'll drop it off in person."

Matthew glanced down at the cart that was already half full, thought about the kitchen supplies Alfred had ordered from the last store. "…Did you think this out at all?"

"Course I did. We're just gonna need a really big truck."

"And you think I've got one just lying around?"

Alfred ignored his question, as his eyes lit on another display. "Matt! Matt! Look at this!" Alfred said with a wide grin, holding up a giant transformer.

"I think that one goes over the budget a little don't you?"

Alfred smiled and shook his head. "Nah." He set it down in the cart alongside several Barbies and three giant boxes of crayons. "It's going towards playroom, so they'll all be sharing anyway. And this one's a combiner, so they can all play with him. What else do you think? I saw a giant rabbit over there that would be great in the reading corner. Come on." And he went off with a grin before Matthew could say a thing.

Matthew followed his brother around the store, laughing and trying to keep up; every now and then rolling his eyes at one of Alfred's choices or dumping a few of his own into the cart. Alfred highly approved of the stuffed polar bear that was sitting above the rest of the toys in the small children's seat looking out at the rest of the store. Matthew had put his own money towards some street hockey equipment. He had a thoroughly 'Alfred' idea forming in his mind, about cross-cultural programs, and pen pals, and-

He looked up to where Alfred was standing in front of a row of board games, his face a little more neutral than before.

He knew it wasn't going to last. Every now and then he could see the small bit of drag in his brother's steps again and he knew by the time they got back to the house that night it would be much more pronounced. Seeing Alfred crash was probably inevitable. But for the moment…

Matthew thought this might have been one of Alfred's best ideas in a long time.

Several hours and several stores later they sat at a small restaurant. It wasn't one he'd necessarily pick, but it was quick, and they were hungry.

"So I was thinking maybe we could do a bit of Christmas shopping while we were out."

"Isn't that technically what we've been doing all day?" Matthew asked, picking up a french fry.

"I thought maybe…" Alfred looked back at the small Christmas tree sitting on the counter. "Thought I could pick some gifts and just send them out. It's too late for the party this year, and the other thing…"

Matthew nodded his head. "Sorry Al. I tried," he said after a moment, dipping his French fry in the ketchup on his plate.

"Dude. Don't apologize for that. It's not your fault." He sat his burger down. "I'm not surprised they-"

"Don't start that," Matthew warned him.

Alfred shrugged again. "Just telling it straight. It was a good idea though. And we're still together. So what if old grumpy gus doesn't want to show."

Matthew nodded. "We'll try again next year. And the year after that. Make it a new tradition."

Alfred's face blanked for a moment, and Matthew was afraid for a moment he'd somehow stepped on an emotional land-mine.

And then Alfred smiled again, tired, but strangely determined. "Can you help me pick out a card?"

Arthur smiled, good-humoredly all the while mentally cursing the giant oaf who stood before him. The man didn't have a humorous cell in his body.

Perhaps if he didn't feel wound so tight he'd be able to deal with him a little better. As it was the alcohol wasn't even helping. He'd felt that way all day.

He told himself it was because of the traffic, or because Mary had seemed sharp with him all day. He told himself adamantly it wasn't because of last night. He shivered a little, despite the crowd of people around him, ignoring the voice telling him if he were only somewhere else things wouldn't be so…

He sighed, rubbing his temple and setting his glass down. The room was suddenly just a little too loud, a little too crowded.

"If you'll excuse me a moment," he said, slipping off to the side, not waiting for any comments. He walked across the space, nodding where necessary, moving swiftly enough to avoid the attention of anyone who'd catch him and try to get him talking. Off to the side of the room, and down a hallway, he knew there was a small library. It was highly unlikely he'd be disturbed there.

Of course, he didn't hear the sniffling sound until he had already shut the door behind him. wide and he was about to apologize for intruding when he realized the person in question hadn't noticed him.

She sat on the great big chair, scrubbing at her cheeks, digging around in her pocketbook, completely unaware of his presence. Mary. He struggled internally for a moment, uncertain whether to make a quick escape or- He brushed against the shelving on one side of the door, knocking a loose book to the floor. He winced and she looked up.

"Excuse me," he said, "I didn't mean to intrude."

"Oh," She said, eyes opening widely. She swiped at her eyes, roughly,

"Excuse me," he said, "I didn't mean to intrude."

"No it's- I'm sorry, I just…" she cleared her throat which still seemed rough and unsteady. "Can I help you with anything?" The tear tracks spread down her face, despite her every attempt to swipe them away. All she did was make the streaking makeup stretch across her face even more noticeably. She looked, quite frankly, miserable.

He shook his head as he crossed the room, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. "No. I'd just hoped to find a space away from everyone else. These functions can be so…" he sighed, "I have a feeling I wasn't the only one to have that idea."

She took his outstretched handkerchief with a thankful nod and wiped at her eyes. "Yes. They can be a bother."

He looked off to the side, unable to avoid the criticism.

"I have a feeling we were trying to escape from two different things. I highly doubt Mr. Wright's jokes sent you in here. As bad as they are they're more likely to leave one yawning than sobbing."

She bit her lip, with a tight smile and nodded.

"If I'm not prying too much, may I ask what is bothering you?"

"I…" she looked up, thoroughly miserable again, "It's really not all that much. Just-" she shook her head. "It's fine. I'd hate to be a bother." She started to stand up, swiping at her face all the more furiously, leaving red blotches across her cheeks, either from the rough scrubbing or her own evident frustrations. She turned to go out the door, but he caught her hand.

"Really," he said, "It's no problem at all. You do so much for me. At least let me hear you out," He said, staring her in the eyes, tapping into his connections with his people, with her, to try to calm her and allay her fears. "It's not problem. Really."

She sighed, and sat back down on the chair. He slipped his hand away from hers and sat down on the chair opposite. "My family, well we're from all over at this point. But my parents… well, my grandparents really. They're always a stickler for Christmas. We may miss birthdays, or skip family reunions, or any other event- but Christmas…" She shook her head. "In my grandmother's book that's practically a sin. And this will be the first year I've missed it."

Arthur opened his mouth, shut it. "And I'm- Why didn't you just tell me?"

She sat up straighter. "Mr. England, I'm a professional. I don't just-"

"That doesn't mean not telling me I'm being unreasonable."

She shook her head, crossing her arms. "I would have. You know that."

"Probably."

"Probably," she admitted. "But I thought, every year we have it out- my family… well someone in my family does. Just because we're suckers for Christmas doesn't make things any calmer. And it's always so…" she threw her hands up in the air. "I thought, maybe it would be good for me to be away for a year. But…" She looked down at her hands.

"You have family, don't you?" she asked suddenly. "But you never really take time of for these sorts of things. And they don't come over here for the holidays. How do you deal with that? Isn't it…" She shut her mouth suddenly, "I'm sorry. I'm prying. I only-" she sighed, "It's so lonely. I never thought it would be. For years I only wanted to avoid them, but now…"

"It's all you're thinking of."

She nodded. "Isn't that so strange. They drive me absolutely batty, but-"

"Doesn't seem so strange to me." He sighed. "I'm afraid our situations aren't so different." He stood, looking back at the door. "I have an idea. But you'll have to trust me."

She looked up at him, confusion written across her face. "Of course."

And he could feel it, of course he could, that trust radiating off of her. He smiled, feeling warm for perhaps the first time that evening. "I think I could probably get you back where you need to be within a few hours time."

"Oh," she said, shocked. "But I couldn't. It-

"I did ask for your trust," he said.

She rubbed her hand on her arm, shoulders tight. "Yes. You did. But I couldn't ask someone else to fill in for me. Not on Christmas. It's not right."

He smiled. "No. It's not right. And it shouldn't have been demanded of you in the first place. But as it turns out I have a small family emergency that needs to be taken care of." He sighed, "That I should have already been taking care of. So you and me both are going to sneak out of this thing. And of course, since I have no need of you for the foreseeable future I don't think it would be remiss in giving you a small vacation, with pay as long as you keep track of what's going on over here for me? Keep me abreast of any situations, without officially going into it if you know what I mean. It would be a shame for this to get cut short."

"Mr. England, I think that sounds utterly devious of you." She looked up at him, a smile on her face that she seemed almost afraid to let out. "I like devious."

"I thought as much." He said, standing up. "Now, I have one more job for you while we're making our escape. If you make a few calls for me. I have a plane to catch."