Papa Chéri

Chapter 6:

Paris, 1962

"Ponas Bonnefoy?" The brunet blinked, "what about him? Wait, who are you two and why are you asking?"

Alfred smiled, "I'm glad you asked," he held his hand out and shook the other boy's hand, "Alfred F. Jones, an American journalist. I'm going around interviewing the employees and owners of Parisian clothing stores on behalf of my company, which is looking to introduce new French brands into the market." He glanced over at his brother, "oh yes, and this is my translator, Matthew, you know, incase you didn't speak a word of English."

Toris nodded slowly, "I see…well, I'm sorry, Ponas Bonnefoy isn't in today, I believe he's working at his office."

Matthew stared as his brother continued skillfully weaving his lie, "oh, that's no problem. If you don't mind, I'll just interview you first, and then if it isn't too much trouble, you can just give me Mr. Bonnefoy's office number or address and I'll contact him myself."

"I-I'm not sure if that'd be a good idea, he's very busy and he's normally booked for weeks at a time-"

"Toris, are they like, still here? Can't they like, hurry it up?" The blond spoke as he shuffled and hid behind the brunet. "It's like, lunch time, you know…"

The American blinked as he took a closer look at the two, "…you two look about our age, why would Mr. Bonnefoy employ such young workers for such a high class boutique?"

Toris frowned slightly, "Ponas Bonnefoy's designs and clothes were originally cheaper but due to the popularity of his brand and pressure from outside sources, he had to pump up the prices and this is the result."

Alfred raised a brow, "but why did he hire teenagers? Sure, at first it'd make sense but by now, I'm pretty sure he could afford to hire professionals and whatnot."

The brunet shook his head, "I don't know why, but Ponas Bonnefoy's a very kind man. I was born Lithuania but my mother and I were sent to Poland to work at Feliks' house for safety, but it wasn't very safe there either so they sent the two of us away to France," the brothers nodded for him to continue, "we didn't have a lot of money with us to begin with, but thanks to our parents, we were able to get by until a few years ago."

Feliks nodded from behind the brunet, "Yea, and we were like, totally looking for jobs but like, no one would hire us for some reason. It was like, seriously uncool and we were like, majorly bummed out."

"Then we met Ponas Bonnefoy. He saw us and told us that he'd just opened a new boutique and that he was looking for people to work-"

"And he like, totally hired us on the spot!"

The Lithuanian smiled, "and so we're still here."

Alfred tilted his head slightly, "but I still don't get why a filthy rich man would hire a pair of teens to work in a high class boutique…did he have an explanation?"

The brunet looked up in thought, "well, when he saw us, he said something about not being able to stand the idea of anyone our age living such a hard life, not only did he insist that we work for him, he also provided us with a small apartment nearby to live in. Really, he's like a father to us!"

Feliks slung an arm around the other lazily, "Yea, he like, painted this place pink because I asked him to. Isn't he like, totally awesome?"

The American dipped his head in agreement, "that was definitely very nice of him, personally helping out needy children. Alright, so I've decided that I absolutely must meet him! Socially responsible and generous, those are the exact traits my company's looking for! He sounds like the perfect candidate to do business with!"

Toris looked hesitantly at his friend, "I don't know if we should, Ponas Bonnefoy's address is a very private thing, very few people know it…"

The blond ran to the counter and returned with a slip of paper, "like, here you go! It's like, by the Trocadéro! This means we can like, go to lunch now, right? Let's like, get going already, Toris!"

The brunet's eyes widened, "Feliks, you can't just give Ponas Bonnefoy's personal address away like that!"

Feliks waved a hand offhandedly and pushed his friend towards the exit, "Don't be so uptight, Toris! They're just like, interviewers, right? And it's not like they're going to get in since Pan Bonnefoy's like, a total workaholic. Seriously Toris, nothing's going to happen, and besides, I'm like, seriously starving! By the way, did I tell you what I did last week?"

"Did you even hear a single word I just said!"

The brothers followed the two out as they flipped the 'open' sign around, locked the doors and ran off. Alfred glanced over at his brother, "Mattie?"

Amethyst eyes blinked as he turned, "yes?"

"You alright? You haven't said a word since we went in."

Matthew nodded, "I'm fine, I just never knew you could lie that well…"

The older boy grinned, "of course, acting's part of business, you know? Anyways, I think we've stumbled onto a good candidate here."

He raised a brow, "Oh? How can you tell?"

Reading the address on the slip of paper, he gestured for his brother to follow, "I'll explain on the way, let's get to this Trocadéro place first."

Somehow, on the way, they passed by a McDonald's and as expected, Alfred ran in to buy himself a burger. Once back outside, the two continued walking, the elder happily eating away at his burger. "So, I'm thinking this F. Bonnefoy person's a good candidate since first of all, he's got the right initials, and second of all, he's French, third, he's beyond rich, and fourth, with the way he more or less took those two in because he couldn't stand the thought of leaving children out in the streets sounds like guilt to me, doesn't it?"

Matthew blinked, "what do you mean?"

"Well think about it, those two were about our age, oui?"

The younger boy laughed and nodded in agreement, "oui, go on."

"And most people wouldn't insist on getting teenagers off the streets without a reason let alone provide shelter and stuff for them-being rich and generous doesn't pass as an excuse since he's targeting a specific age group. So I'm thinking guilt, a decade and half of guilt."

"Guilt…?"

Alfred nodded, "that's right, guilt. If Bella and Lars were right and your papa didn't want to leave you, he'd feel guilty for doing so, right? And assuming he couldn't find you again, the guilt would build up, and as an ex-papa, he would probably feel obligated to help people around his ex-son's age because A, he'd think of his son in the same situation and if he was a good papa, he wouldn't be able to stand it, and B, it'd help ease his conscience a little. So I'm thinking this guy's had some traumatic event happen to him in the past."

The Canadian frowned nervously as they neared their destination, "but Al, what if this traumatic event was actually traumatic? Like he lost his son in an accident or something, I don't want to bother a busy man for no reason, or worse, what if this brings back bad memories for him? That's just inconsiderate…"

His brother sighed and looked at him seriously, "Mattie, we're leaving in two days, and you know we'll be stuck inside tomorrow, so this is our last chance-your last chance. And look, this is one of those rare times in life where everything's either black or white, it's either this guy's your papa or he isn't, but either way, we don't get another try after this. So come on, what do you have to lose? You want to find your papa, don't you?"

The younger boy stood there, lost in thought for a moment before looking up and nodding to the other, a determined look on his face, "…you're right, Al, I've got nothing to lose except part of my dignity and sense of shame, so let's go ask."

Grinning, Alfred ruffled the other's hair and pumped his fist into the air, "That's the spirit! Let's go!"

"And I suddenly don't want to do this anymore, let's turn back!" Alfred let out as they faced a large private mansion. That wasn't the problem; the problem stood at the gates. A short blond man and a shorter blond girl stood there, one looking disgruntled while the other content, but that wasn't the problem either. The problem was that the blond man looked disgruntled and he was carrying a gun. "He could shoot us on the spot! The girl probably won't, but the guy, oh my god, he looks trigger-happy! Just look at that finger, it's itching to pull the trigger! I know trigger-happy people when I see them, Mattie! How scary is that!"

The Canadian let out a soft scoff, "that's rich coming from you, Al. Doesn't everyone own a minimal of three guns in the States? And isn't half the population trigger-happy? And if I remember correctly, you keep a pistol in your desk drawer, a shotgun over your fireplace and I'm pretty sure I found one in your sock drawer the last time I visited."

"Well first of all, those guns are for safety and safety only, second, not everyone in America has a gun…some states have age requirements, and third…fine, let's go, it'll be your fault if we get shot," he huffed and stomped over to the guard, dragging his brother along, "excuse me, I have an appointment with Mr. Bonnefoy."

The meaner looking guard studied them for a long moment before nodding and opening the gates for them. As they walked through, the blonde spoke up, voice quiet and feminine, "I wonder if they're friends of Monsieur Bonnefoy…they look a little like twins, don't they, Bruder?"

"Hn, a little I guess. But either way, if they do anything weird, I'll shoot them both…"

Upon hearing this, the two picked up their pace and jogged inside.

Once inside the mansion, they were greeted by a tanned girl with long pigtails and an outgoing smile, "bonjour-"

"After running around Paris for the past few weeks, I now know for a fact that most Parisians know how to speak near-perfect English, so English please, Miss…" the blond glanced at the nametag on the desk, "Sesel…"

Matthew frowned, "aren't you being a little rude, Al?"

But instead of being offended, the girl giggled, "Don't worry about it. Alright, English it is!"

Alfred looked at his brother, "see? Practically perfect English!"

The brunette watched the two with a smile on her lips, "so how may I help you today?"

The American blinked, "huh…? Oh yea, I'm a journalist from America, and I was hoping for a quick interview with Mr. Bonnefoy."

"Okay, that sounds fine, and do you have an appointment?"

The blond stared in disbelief, "wait…are you his secretary?"

The girl laughed at his expression, "Oui, I am, indeed, Monsieur Bonnefoy's secretary."

"No way! But you can't be any older than us-me…us!"

Matthew sighed and shook his head, "Alfred, calm down, this shouldn't shock you, especially not after that theory you were telling me about earlier…"

The brunette put on an amused expression, "How cute, you two must not have heard all the stories about Monsieur Bonnefoy's generosity. Well, for myself, he saved me from an orphanage in Seychelles when I caught him a fish, and then he brought me here to be his secretary! He even hired tutors for me and gave me a place to stay!"

The elder raised a brow, wondering whether or not the girl's words were carefully chosen, "What do you mean saved? Shouldn't it be adopted?"

Sesel's smile dropped a little, "no, no, I meant saved. Monsieur Bonnefoy is not my papa though I will always think of him as one. He's already had enough…trying circumstances as it is."

The brothers exchanged curious glances, Alfred cleared his throat, "so do you think we can see him?"

"I don't know, wait a moment please," calling her boss through speakerphone, she asked the man nicely, "Monsieur Bonnefoy, êtes-vous là?"

There was a moment of silence,"…oui, ma chère?"

Matthew felt his heart skip a beat. The girl continued talking, a light giggle in her voice, "il y a journalistes américains ici…" she glanced over at them for their names.

"Alfred and Matthew," the elder supplied quickly.

The younger boy frowned and muttered, "…but I'm Canadian…"

Sesel didn't hear him, "les journalistes américains Alfred et Matthew, et ils ne parlent pas français."

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, "well, Mattie does, but I don't…so English please…"

"Right, sorry," quickly switching back to English, she continued, "one of them speaks French. They were wondering if they could interview you."

"Hm? I don't know an 'Alfred and Mathieu', do I? Do they have an appointment?"

"Nope."

"Then please pencil them in for my next available slot…and a little later than that if you can, I think I need to take a day off soon, I'm getting bags under my eyes from all this work. Merci beaucoup, ma chère."

"De rien," and she ended the call, "you heard him. Would you like me to write you in for…two weeks from now at 3 o'clock?"

Alfred frowned, "we won't be here two weeks from now. And he was so rude too…well whatever, let's go Mattie, there's no way such an impolite guy could be your papa!"

Suddenly, the brunette angrily stood up with an upset frown on her lips, "oh no, don't tell me you're here about that too…that was already years ago!"

Blue eyes blinked, "what?"

"I thought you were nice guys, but you're just here to ask about the blank cheque, aren't you! Ugh, get out of here! Please don't come around here again! If you do, I'll…I'll get Vash to shoot you both!"

And so, they were promptly kicked out onto the streets.

Frowning, Alfred pulled his brother down the street, "come on Mattie, I feel like Chinese. Chinatown's in the 13th arrondissement, right? Isn't that where Ludwig and Feliciano's friend's at? Let's go visit him as well…Kiku, right? …Mattie?"

The other blond continued looking staring off into space.

Worried, the older boy waved a hand in front of the other's face, "Mattie? What's wrong? Mattie!"

Matthew blinked and looked at his brother, "eh? O-oh, it's nothing…"

The American raised a brow, "don't tell me you're not convinced that he's not your papa…I mean sure, he was nice to all those other kids but a complete jerk to us, maybe it's because he didn't see how old we were but either way! You can't possibly think he's your papa!"

He shook his head a little sullenly, "I don't know what to think anymore…I just froze up when I heard him speak…I don't know why, I just…completely froze up…"

"Well we can't really get in without getting shot so…and I don't know if you want to risk your life just to ask some stuck up Frenchie whether or not he's your papa. Anyways, first thing's first, food, then I want to find out about that blank cheque thing she was talking about, it sounded interesting."

Matthew looked around, "Al…"

"Yea?"

"You're going the wrong way, the 13th arrondissement's that way."

Alfred paused before turning around and letting out a loud laugh, "…I knew that! What kind of hero wouldn't know that!"

Finally stumbling upon a Chinese restaurant, they walked inside only to be greeted by a familiar face plus four. "Hey, if it isn't Kiku!"

The Japanese boy looked at the pair and blinked, "ah, Alfred-san and Matthew-san, right?"

The American grinned and gave the Asian boy a pat on the back, "Nice, you remembered! So what are you doing in a place like this?"

"I'm just visiting these people," he gestured to the other four, "this is Yao-san, Hong-kun, Mei-chan and Yong-Soo-san. They are…I guess you can call them my unofficial family."

The man with the ponytail let out an exasperated huff, "it's Wang Yao, Kiku!"

"Yes well, I like calling you Yao-san, and I like calling Hong-kun, Hong-kun, and Mei-chan, Mei-chan, and Yong-Soo-san, well I guess that's his name," Kiku replied a little defiantly.

The girl smiled, "I don't mind at all, Kiku."

"Yea, all your names originated from Korea anyways!"

The eldest Asian sighed and shook his head, "Aiyo, Yong-Soo, go set up a table for the customers, it's already been a slow day! It seems that Kiku's going through his rebellious phase…"

Alfred raised a brow as he took a seat, "feel free to sit with us. What did you mean by unofficial family anyway?"

Kiku shrugged, "they more or less took me in when I came to France, they're all from different parts of Asia so none of us are actually related. Yao-san's from China, he's like an onii-san to us all, Hong-kun's from Hong Kong so he's the only one that speaks and understands Cantonese, though he lived in England before so his English is better than ours…when he actually speaks anyways. Mei-chan's from Taiwan; and Yong-Soo-san's from South Korea…if he touches you inappropriately, just try to ignore it."

Alfred laughed and nodded in approval, "What an exciting bunch of people you have for family! Let's see, I want…wonton mien and some cha siu bao, what about you, Mattie?"

"…xiao long bao…"

Yao raised a brow at the two before ushering Hong into the kitchen to cook, "your Chinese isn't that bad, surprisingly."

"Did you know? All those things originated from Korea, including Chinese!"

"Yong-Soo, come help out in the kitchen!"

The American grinned proudly, "This is what happens when you eat Chinese every other day!"

"That's very impressive," the Taiwanese girl smiled as she set down the teapot, "here you are."

"Thanks!"

Kiku looked curiously at the younger boy as he took a sip of his tea, "Matthew-san? Is something wrong? Did something happen, Alfred-san?"

Alfred turned his attention to his brother and sighed, "oh, him? Yea, you know how we were here to look for his papa? Well we're leaving in two days, and today, we went to see some Bonnefoy person, he fit all the credentials but he was too busy to see us and then we got kicked out by his secretary and if we go back, we'll get shot by his trigger-happy guard, that's all."

"Bonnefoy?" Yong-Soo popped his head out of the kitchen, "did you just say Bonnefoy?"

The American looked over at the Korean, "yea, you know him?"

"Know him? He's from Korea! That, and I've met him once, right, hyung?"

"Yea, that was awhile ago though…stop being so wu liao and get back to work Yong-Soo. Hong, pass me the pot…"

"Yes, sir…"

Awhile later, the three reappeared with their orders, "here you are," Hong spoke to them for the first time, though his face remained blank, "please take your time and enjoy your meal…"

Yao nodded with a friendly smile on his face, "kuai yi dian chi la, and make sure you order more if you're not full! Yong-Soo, you're not going to tell them about that story…? That gu shi, are you?"

"Ge ge, you're speaking random words in Mandarin again," Mei chided the elder lightly.

The Chinese man shrugged and shook his head, "aiyo, I can't help it, some words come more naturally to me in Mandarin, that's all! You should understand!"

Alfred quickly stuffed a bun in his mouth, "st'eh? Dogh itaf od'ih da a'n'ek? Ith eyu'hoth!"

The five stared blankly at the American, "…Alfred-san, I'm afraid no one understands a word you're saying."

"He asked if the story has anything to do with a 'blank cheque', and he said that the food's very delicious," Matthew quickly translated for them as he picked up one of his xiao long bao with his chopsticks with some difficulty.

Yong-Soo pouted, "What? Don't tell me you've heard the 'lost Mathieu' story already?"

The brothers quickly exchanged surprised looks before quickly turning to the Korean, "no, please tell us about it."

Nya~

I love xiao long bao! And I really need to stop updating in the middle of the night. But who am I to stop my habits? I don't think I need to translate the Jap parts since that's pretty basic. I'm also too lazy to write accents on my pinyin since yea, I just am. And I'm also kind of too lazy to sound out Cantonese since it's harder, but seriously, how do you translate mo liu/wu liao into English! Oh, and please correct me if my simplified Chinese is off, I learnt traditional, let's just leave it at that. And Korean, I can slowly sound the words out and still have no idea what it means, that's about as far as that goes. As always, correct me if anything I write's off! Thanks for all the feedback and corrections! I like, love you reviewers, like seriously, to the max! Enjoy!

Translations:

Ponas - Mr. (Liet)
Pan - Mr. (Pol)
Êtes-vous là ? - Are you there? (Fr)
Il y a journalistes américains ici - There are American journalists here (Fr)
Et ils ne parlent pas français - And they don't speak French (Fr)
De rien - You're welcome (Fr)
Hyung (형) - Big brother (Kor)
Wu liao (无聊/無聊) - Nothing better to do, boring, uninteresting...something along those lines, I have no idea how to directly translate this into English (Man)
Kuai yi dian chi la (快一点吃啦/快一點吃啦) - Eat up (Lit: Eat a little faster) (Man)
Gu shi (故事) - Story (Man)
Ge ge (哥哥) - Big brother (Man)