Contrary to popular belief, I'm not dead, Chick-a-dees. I just had a very tiring month full of training and zero chances to unleash my imagination. So, I ask for forgiveness and continued support for my stories. You guys are the reason I write after all. So a super duper shout out to my consultant/Familiar partner-in-crime BringBackSocksWithSandles along with my lovely reviewers: The Forgotten Traveller, lawliness, and

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As well as all who favorited or followed. Not much more to say except I hope you enjoy this chapter~

Disclaimer:...sorry, I used up most of my creativity typing this chapter. This is not mine. All rights go to Hidekazu Himaruya blah blah blah

Vash POV

I sighed into my arm as I laid on the padded floor of the estate's mini dojo, sweating from a particularly hard workout and panting as I caught my breath. It was the morning of Roderich's CD signing, and the last few days had been strangely demure as it seemed as if the tables had turned, and it was the musician now who had started to avoided me. A total of 4 days had passed since the shopping experience, or what I had started to refer to as The Incident sometimes in my head. Temporary Insanity seemed to be a better word though, since there was no reasonable excuse for what had happened among the produce except that I had lost my mind and nearly kissed my employer. Yes, I admit that I was dangerously close to doing just that. I was attracted to my client, there was no denying it any longer. Not when my brain saw it fit to reply the scene in the store over and over and over again with different results of what could have happened if I hadn't pulled away; each one leading to a charge for indecent exposure and most likely losing my job.

Solemn, I removed my arm from my face and stared unblinkingly at the ceiling.

My job. The words echoed hauntingly around in my head. I had to remember why it was pertinent to keep my sudden libido in check. Even if I didn't turn into another Ivan (previously, I would have said that I had more control than that, but as it was proven before that my rationality and the musician didn't mix well), there was still the fact that he was a job. Roderich didn't seem like a one night stand type of guy and neither was I, so what was going to happen when the job is over and I have to take on a new assignment? How was it even possible to have a relationship with a world famous celebrity who would probably tour the world while I'm off doing who knows what for who knows who?

Yes, it was just easier to bury my emotions deep and focus my mind on others things...like the fact that it was the day of Roderich's CD signing, and I still couldn't figure out how Mr. Køhler would keep the brunet's identity masked. He would have to be a magician to keep the celebrity's image so secret from the rest of the world during all of the promotional events. Well, that or an Ex-mafia boss, I thought with a slightly wiry smile. For a moment, I wondered how Roderich would feel if he knew that tidbit of information about his boss, but then I chided myself for already having my mind on anything other than the musician's general welfare. There was no need for me to care about his opinion's, and besides, it wasn't my story to tell anyway.

With one last sigh, I dragged myself from the dojo mat to start cleaning up so I could then get showered. Clean up was simple with a smaller mat than I was used to, and in no time I finished mopping and was heading upstairs to wash up myself. As I reached the top of the winding staircase, I spotted the covert celebrity hurriedly slipping into his room with an armful of rice paper, hair messy and glasses askew atop his nose. After a slight pause, I continued on to my room where I tried and failed to keep my mind somewhere far away from the disheveled appearance of my employer. A look, I found out as I stood under the warm spray of the shower, that I may have liked a little too much. Emotions I could suppress easily, but biology was something else entirely.

Oh, this was going to be absolute hell.

Roderich POV

I was close to pulling my hair out. They were gone. The notes, the patterns. The beautiful melody in my head that I had seen so clearly in the store had vanished with just a lingering memory that was fading with each passing second. The parts I did remember were scrawled on rice paper (yes, there was re-printed sheet music paper to use, but I always did like to be different), and they made no sense what so ever. It seemed as if the moment of genius was just that...a moment.

"Master?" Haas's voice startled me out of my thoughts.

"Y-yes?" I called out, blinking a few times to orient myself.

"The car is ready for you."

"Car?" I echoed, confused. Was I scheduled to go somewhere? "Am I scheduled to go somewhere, Haas?"

There was a brief silence before he continued. "Today is the day of your CD signing, is it not, Master?"

CD signing? I repeated the words in my head, my thoughts still a bit sluggish. CD signing, CD sign-

"CD signing?!" Oh my. I checked the clock mounted above my bed and nearly tripped over myself trying to move away from my desk. The event was due to start in an hour, and the plan was to be there an hour early to beat the crowd coming in. The drive alone was going to take half an hour. "Thank you...I'm...uh...I'll be...down sh-shortly!" I spoke in between taking off articles of clothing.

I couldn't believe I had holed myself up in my room for the past 4 days just to try and get the music down. It wasn't uncommon, of course, for me to get lost in composing., and my staff always made sure I was taken care of, bringing meals to my room and the like (Julian even made me promise to let them hear a sample of the piece when I finished), but still to be so caught up that I forgot an event? It was simply unheard of.

In record time I showered and changed, and I had one arm through my coat sleeve and the other struggling to get in as I left my room. Both arms were in their sleeves by the time I made it down the stairs, and I pulled on my trusty purple beanie just as I stepped outside. My stomach rumbled just as I jumped into the car, and Mark, bless his heart, reached back to hand me a danish before flooring it out of the front gate. My breath left me in an audible huff, as I sighed, leaning back into the sedan's comfortable seating. It wasn't until I heard a soft chuckle from my side that I even realized Vash was next to me in the car. Honestly, where was my head at lately?

I glanced at the blonde from my peripherals and noticed him watching me. It made me slightly self-conscious, and I had to restrain myself from straightening out my appearance. Instead, I gave him a nod of acknowledgement and turned my attention towards the scenery passing by outside. It was our first time being in the same vicinity of each other since the shopping trip with Kane, since our maybe almost kiss. Actually, it was also the first time I even thought about the incident. Normally, I would be analyzing every moment leading up to that point and trying to figure out what it had meant, but I was too busy with trying to string together the notes that had popped into my head. However, without the distraction of composing, the images assaulted my brain. The feel of a calloused hand against the dip of my back, the warmth of his breath intermingling with my own, and of course, his eyes. I shivered involuntarily, and prayed that the others didn't notice. It did me no favors to try and explain why I was shivering while wearing an overcoat. Shaking, my head as if to shake the thoughts out, I focused my attention back to the vehicle's window.

Mark, the wonderful employee that he is, got us to to event in 20 minutes, and I was quickly and discretely lead through the back entrance. While passing, I got a glimpse of a long line leading to an even longer line, and it made me a confusing mix of nervous and excited to see so many fans. I also got to see what Mikkel came up with to keep my identity a secret, and I was impressed. It was like a smaller scale version of the silhouette screen I used on stage for my concerts (minus the smoke machine), and enclosed on 3 sides like a cubicle with about an inch of space from a desk to receive items to sign.

I was lead by the store's manager through an Employee Only door and that lead me to another door, making it start to feel a bit like a covert spy movie with all the twists and turns we had to make. Finally, I was stopped at a door and informed that my station was right behind it. Vash had separated from me before I first entered the back hallway, saying that he would be posted right outside the cubicle, so I was by myself as I prepared myself to open the door that would lead me to a long line of fans. I tried and failed not to be nervous. A radio interview was one thing, but this was in-person (sort of), and I could see myself somehow being revealed and my picture plastered all over the news and internet, my peaceful life over. Or even worse, what if my stalker came? What if this was the chance he was waiting for, and he's right there in the line, just waiting until it's his time and he pulls out a gun and-

"Mr. Edelstein?"

I didn't realize I was breathing shallowly until the manager called my name. I tried to return and breathing to normal and reign in my nerves, but the concerned look I was given told me I didn't do such a great job. I gave her a shaky smile anyway. "My apologies, just nerves," I told her and took a few deep breaths.

"Our security is posted in all corners, and your handsome blonde bodyguard is posted outside the cubicle like a loyal guard dog. There's nothing to be worried about."

I felt a spike of...something when she called Vash handsome, but her words worked in calming me down. The IPA agent was out there, and he would stop any threat that came my way. Yes, I was safe with him at my side. I could do this, I thought as I opened the door and a thunderous applause nearly deafened me. However, just then one last piercing thought invaded my mind.

But what if he wasn't?

Vash POV

I'd admit I felt...something when the musician only gave me a nod as a greeting when he got into the car. I'm not exactly sure what that something was, but I didn't like it, and what's more is the fact that I didn't like that I didn't like it. This job was making me question everything I ever believed in when it came to emotional attachments, and it was starting to make my head spin. Where was the line drawn and at what point would it be counted as crossed? How much concern is too much? When does being friendly turn into flirting? So many questions and not enough answers.

I was brought out of my thoughts by loud cheering and turned to look behind me just in time to see the door open and a shadowed figure step up to the screen. I watched as Roderich took off his coat and hat, becoming the image most were used to seeing.

Once the noise lowered the silhouette spoke into the microphone that was placed on the desk. "Welcome everyone and thank you coming. I must say that I'm surprised at the turnout. I didn't realize so many people loved my music," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and I swear a few ladies in the line swooned. "So, I guess we begin," he finished taking a seat. "It's a pleasure to be here and meet all of you."

And that was the end of it as the first person in line stepped up to get her CD signed. I gave her a once over from my position at the side, and then waved her ahead. The only danger I felt from her was the danger of fainting due to the celebrity's proximity and charm. Especially, when the musician asked for her name and then complemented her on the beauty of it. She wanted to know if he had a playlist already ready for the concert at the Vienna's Musikverein, to which Roderich responded that he was in the process of composing a piece. Then her CD was signed, Roderich was thanked and repeat. It became a common occurrence for the fan to ask one question while there CD (or vinyl for some) got signed, and the brunet answered most, if not all, with enthusiasm.

I spent my time divided between watching the line and watching the room in case a certain disgruntled ex-husband decided to show up. Common sense states that it would be an opportune moment, to strike one of the few times when Roderich was in public, and so I had to be extra vigilant in my observations, eyes taking in every detail in case of hostile intentions.

It seemed that my efforts were in vain, however, when the line started to grow shorter and the noise dialed down from earth-shattering bass speakers to a comfortable headphone quality. I could hear more of the conversation that passed between the musician and his fans with Roderich's voice floating from behind the screen like it's own brand of music, laughter accompanying it more often than not. Females were barely holding in their squeals and also a few men I noticed with...something stirring in my chest.

Resolute, I pushed the thoughts away and returned to watch the few remaining fans. An elderly couple, a young woman in pearls, a teen wearing a black and neon combo (there was no judgement), a pale middle-aged man in a windbreaker, a sing-

My mind halted and went back to the relatively average man in the windbreaker, sunglasses and hat. It was nothing too strange about him, besides the use of sunglasses indoors and was that white hair sticking out from under the hat? Nevertheless, there was nothing hostile about his posture or expression. Still my instincts had never led me wrong before, and my eyes zeroed in on his baggy attire, trying to assess if there was anything hidden in it's excess, but there didn't seem to be anything. My brows furrowed as my body tensed, ready to pounce if things took a turn for the worst. Again, my fears were proven unjustified when the man walked up and turned it to get his CD signed to 'Your Biggest Fan.' After a moment it was returned, and he walked away with a 'thank you' and a satisfied smile.

And that was that.

Hmmm, maybe my instincts weren't so all-knowing after all.

Roderich POV

My hands were shaking.

Things were going so well. Hand cramp aside, I was having fun. I couldn't see my fans face-to-face, but I still got a great sense of their personalities and character. Fanmail was nice, but to actually, hear the awe and gratitude in their voices? Nothing like it in the world. I especially loved when they asked for a personalized message. It made me felt like a connect was formed each time.

And then it was over.

I told you I would find you

The wrinkled piece of paper was encased in the CD cover, impossible to miss when I went to sign the inside, and after a moment's hesitation, I signed it with a shaky hand and slid the CD back, heart thumping and feeling all sorts of exposed. Was this it? Would he attack right now? Should I run? Would that even help? Was he going to-

"Thank you."

The words were unexpected and a 'Your welcome' automatically slipped out before I even knew what was happening, and then he was gone. Like a freak thunder storm causing mayhem and leaving destruction.

"Mr. Edelstein?"

The soft voice made me realize that I was lost in my thoughts while there were still a few more fans left to take care of. How selfish of me.

"I-I apologize. Hand cramp," I half-lied, and rubbed circles against my inner wrist as if that would make the lie more convincing.

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry. You must be tired," the female sounded disappointed and resigned at the same time.

"Oh no, there's still a few signatures let in me. Let me just..." I rolled my wrist a few times. "There. All better. And who should I make this out to?" I said picking up the CD that was slid over on the table.

A giggle and then it was like the previous event never happened. I signed the rest of the CD's before I once again donned my disguise and retreated to the door behind me. The manager was back and already waiting to lead me out. I asked her where the restroom was and after a polite word of thanks, I followed her direction and slipped into the male restroom. At once I splashed water on my face and took a few deep breaths.

That was so close. Close to what? I don't know, but it couldn't have been anything good. I thought back to those terrifying few seconds and wondered how it got to that point. Vash was right outside, and yet the man had walked right up. He must not have given off any vibes to get on the IPA agent's radar (and I trust that radar), so he must have also looked like an average guy. Like anyone you could pass on the street.

Suddenly, my breathing started to get more shallow and quick paced as the final thought occurred to me.

My stalker could literally be anyone.

The restroom door opened with a bang and I jumped, heart catching in my throat. Oh god. He was was back to finish-

It was the custodian.

Wearing a dark blue jumpsuit, the employee raised one eyebrow in my direction and then continued on with his business, dragging the mop bucket behind him dutifully. With my heart still thudding in my chest, I dried my hands quickly and rushed out of the restroom, only to nearly run into Vash who was standing outside like the loyal guard dog the manager had called him.

"The manager told me you went to the bathroom." Were the first words said directly to me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I side-stepped away from him. "I wasn't aware that I needed your permission to urinate." It was a snark to counter the fear that I felt rising in me, and it wasn't fair to the other. It wasn't his fault I was so weak.

"You don't. I just would like to know your whereabouts before you go running off." That made me wince inwardly. Of course, the blonde was just trying to do his job, and here I was making it harder.

"I'll make sure to inform you next time then."

"Thank you, Mr. Edelstein."

And that caused...something in my chest to act funny. Pushing away the feeling, I walked ahead of him towards the back entrance. Mark was, as usual, waiting for us with the door held open and I slipped in with ease.

There was silence in the vehicle on the ride back home, each occupant lost in their own thoughts. In fact, I didn't even realize I was rubbing my wrist to alleviate the pain until Vash held out his hand. At first I was confused, but then he asked for my hand, and curious, I gave it to him. It was a strange feeling as he took my hand into his and started to massage them (very well, I might add). He started from my wrists, rubbing firm circles around the bones, but not actually touching them. Then he did a weird pinching motion between the web of my thumb and index finger, and I bit back a moan. Where in the world did he learn that?

"Japanese heiress," Vash's voice broke through my thoughts.

What? Wait, did I say that out loud? Oh god, did he hear my moan as well? Wait, more importantly...

"Japanese heir-ress?" I echoed, my voice hitching a bit when he turned my hand over to massage the palms.

"Previous mission. She showed me some relaxation techniques, and I showed her how to break a man's trachea," he shrugged like it was no big deal, and I couldn't help but let out a snort.

He began to talk me through the motions, facts about yin and yang meridians and things I had no clue about, but I was content to just enjoy the low timber of his voice for the rest of the ride. However, there was something nagging in the back of my mind. Something that had nothing to do with pain in my hands. Briefly, I wondered if I should tell him about the note, but then I watched as he devoted all of his attention to massaging my hands and couldn't be bothered to ruin the moment.

No, I couldn't tell him.

Vash POV

Something was definitely on Roderich's mind the drive home from the CD signing.

Impromptu massage session aside (and don't get me started on how impulsive and reckless that was), it was clear that something was weighing on him. However, it wasn't until after he asked me to join him for lunch that I would find out. We were seated in the sun room, the same where we ate my first day on the job. Lunch was simple yet filling, just the way I liked it and it made me suspicious of the brunet's intentions.

Once our dishes were cleared away, I gave him my undivided attention, knowing that he had something important he wanted to say to me. I was right, and after a few minutes, the brunet finally spoke.

"So," Roderich said, his long fingers drumming a rhythm on the table between us. "You train nearly everyday down in the dojo, right?

"Yes," I answered, not sure I wanted to know where the conversation was going. I watched as he seemed to steel himself before speaking in a rush.

"I want you to train me, or well...retrain me, I guess. I'm sure what my sifu taught me is still somewhere in my head."

"But you have me," I said before realizing how that might have sounded to the other. "I mean it's my job to protect you," I clarified.

"Yes, I do," the brunet said referring to my earlier statement. "But, wouldn't it be easier if I wasn't completely defenseless on my own, and you wouldn't have to fight for us both, if it came to that point?"

I continued to stare at him, trying to figure out where this sudden interest in self-defense come from. "Did something happen while you were signing autographs. Did I miss something?" It was the only thing I could think of, and I hastily racked my brain for any clues I might have missed, but came up blank. "Or was it something that happened in the latrine?"

"La..what, no. It's just-" he cut himself off and kneaded his bottom lip with his teeth, and as poorly timed as it might have been, my mind went haywire with salacious images. Those lips were dangerous, I thought before I blinked back into reality.

Trying not to fall into the same trap again, I focused my stare on the other man as a whole. "What happened?" I asked, my tone soft, which came as a shock to both of us, and I witnessed violet eyes widen before they lowered shyly.

"It's nothing, really," Roderich shrugged. "I was just being paranoid."

"Paranoid?" I echoed and the musician nodded.

"It's just that I realized that my stalker could be anyone, and then how would we know?"

"I'd know," I quickly said and was shocked (and a little bit hurt) when the brunet only stared in disbelief.

"Would you?" Roderich's tone went soft as well. "If he looked like a normal guy with normal intentions, would you know?"

Unfortunately, I did see his point and my silence spoke as much. Case made, the celebrity sat back in the chair and waited for the verdict.

I ran the idea around in my head. It did sound reasonable, and it would put me more at ease to know that when the job was over (and eventually the job would be over, I had to keep reminding myself), the musician could handle himself if something else came up.

"Okay," I said. "I'll train you."

His responding smile made the need for a cold shower imminent, and I couldn't help but think just what the hell I had gotten myself into.

The ex-mob reference refers to my old DenNor fic that I'll be bringing back once this winds down to a close. Slowly, but surely I'm introducing more plot and..."somethings" occurring. Much more coming in the next chapter. Speaking of which...

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Will be featured next week in my other fic Hetalia Host Club (Author Bribery Mwahaha)

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