Author's Note: I - you - over a hundred reviews? You guys are amazing...ILU so hard! To thank you, please have a chapter that makes up for the lack of heisty-ness!
Matt hadn't even realized he was exhausted until Alfred was shaking him awake and told him he'd fallen asleep reading a book on his bed.
"I was knocking for a while but you weren't answering." Alfred explained as Matt sat up straighter, rubbing his eyes.
"S-sorry, Al." Matt's jaw cracked as a yawn overtook him. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought!"
"No problem!" his brother's eyes crinkled behind his glasses. "Hey, but wake up a little, huh? Artie sent me to get you so we can have a group meeting."
That perked Matt up. Now that all the members were now safely in France, he had expected something like this to happen.
"Okay, just give me a minute." Alfred waited, impatiently bouncing up and down on the bed as Matt smoothed out the sleep-wrinkles on his shirt, fixed his glasses, and stretched.
"Fine, fine, you look stunnin' Mattie, a real doll, now c'mon!" Alfred insisted, jerking his younger brother up by the arm. Matt acquiesed with a playful glare, and the two brothers entered Arthur's study just as everyone else was sitting down. Alfred led Matt to two vacant chairs and plopped himself in between Matt and Ivan with grim determination.
"Well, since Alfred has decided to grace us with his presence - " Arthur began irritably.
"Not my fault, I had to wake Matt up!" Alfred chimed in. Matt nodded in confirmation, though it did little good. Arthur sighed but did not press the matter.
"Right. Now that we're all here, I'm expecting you to formulate some semblance of a plan. The deadline is approaching quite quickly so I would be greatly reassured if you would tell me you have something planned..."
"I always have something planned!" Alfred interrupted, looking insulted by the very idea that he wouldn't have a plan. Arthur scowled.
"Oh, really? Then let's hear it." the Brit crossed his arms and leaned on his desk - he was almost promptly uprooted when Matt's brother sprang from his seat, hopped up onto the desk ("stop, that's good mahogany!" Arthur exclaimed) and addressed the five other men.
"Right, guys, so I've been thinking - "
" - That's new." Gilbert quipped, looking unusually surly. Alfred frowned.
"Shut it, whitey. Anyways, now that Kiku's brought us back what we ordered, I guess we should talk about what you're doing next, Matt."
Matt, who had been actually drifting off to sleep again, blinked up at his brother and tried to look like he'd been paying attention.
Alfred didn't notice.
"Er. What am I doing next?" Matt ventured as Kiku stepped up and deposited something in Alfred's palm.
"Voila!" Alfred held up what looked like a tiny, almost microscopic chip.
"You went all the way to China for that?" Gilbert asked Kiku rudely; he was shushed by Ludwig almost immediately.
"This," Alfred spoke above the irritated albino. "Is the software for the world's tiniest camera."
"That's a camera?" Arthur asked in disbelief, having settled in Alfred's vacated seat to watch the boastful American. Alfred nodded proudly as if this was all his idea.
"Uh-huh! Matt, we're gonna attach this to your glasses so you can take pictures of the house for us without attracting attention."
"How does it work?" Matt was fascinated, and he turned to Kiku for the question. The Japanese man looked pleased and bowed his head.
"It will hook onto the corner of your glasses and be controlled wirelessly." he explained. "You can control it with a switch that's set in a ring - it's very touch sensitive so just brushing against it will active the camera."
" 'Kay Mattie, here's the thing." Alfred spoke up as he allowed Matt to take the delicate piece of technology from him and examine it intently. "We need outdoor shots, of all entrances. We need shots of the cellar, the foyer, the hallways leading to the artefact room, pictures of the room itself..."
"Wait, wait." Matt shook his head, momentarily distracted from the small camera in his hands. "You want me to go in the room?"
When Alfred nodded, Matt blanched. "Are you kidding me? No one's allowed in there, they've got enough locks and cameras to keep ninjas out, and the security's crazy! One of the guards has a rifle!"
"And a handgun." Gilbert offered helpfully - Matt turned to stare at him incredulously, and Gilbert mouthed, "later" with a cheeky wink.
Alfred didn't look worried. "Okay. So, isn't there anyone you've befriended who could help you look inside?"
Matt thought for a minute, then paused. He remembered Chelles complaining about how she always had to help Aron, a pale haired man with a chilly disposition, when he cleaned the artefact room. The man was Icelandic, he was told, and was a very, very trusted employee in the Bonnefoy house. Every week Aron would let himself into the room with his high-end cleaning supplies and do a careful job of tidying up the place. The problem was, Chelles told Matt one time, was that Aron had so much stuff that she invariably ended up helping him carry everything into the room, helping with the more menial cleaning tasks ("sometimes I move books slightly to the left"), and then carrying everything out again.
"I think I have a way." Matt said softly, and Alfred perked up.
"Knew it!" he crowed triumphantly. "You always come through for me, Mattie!"
The other men looked just as pleased, and Matt allowed a small feeling of pride (of usefulness, something that he had not felt since arriving here) to rush through him.
Then it was back to business.
"Excuse me." Ivan raised his hand as if they were in school. "But I am still driving that silly little rental car around. I was promised something nicer?"
"Well, we were thinking of renting a van..." Alfred trailed off, tapping his chin with a finger. Ivan looked less than impressed.
"I will be driving a van?" Ivan sniffed. "What, am I a monkey now?"
"What do you want, a Bentley or something?" Alfred snorted. "This is a heist, if you hadn't forgotten. Plus Kiku probably wants to set up surveillance in the back, right?" he asked the Japanese man, who muttered something about "whatever wouldn't inconvenience anyone".
Ivan looked less than happy; he crossed his arms across his broad chest and slumped down in his seat, which creaked ominously.
Ludwig stood up next. "I'm wondering to what use you are going to put the weapons I purchased."
"Oh, yeah!" Alfred cast an uneasy glance at his brother, wary about talking about guns in his vicinity. "Lissen, Ludwig, I can just come to your room later and we can - "
"I think Matthew is quite old enough to listen to you and your gun talk, Alfred." Ivan purred out, and Matt gave him a strange look over Arthur's head. Alfred looked put out.
"He's also old enough to speak for himself, Ivan." he shot back.
"Both of those statements are extremely hypocritical." Arthur growled. "So belt up and start talking."
As grateful as Matt was to be treated as one of the group, he didn't want to admit that he had no idea what they were talking about. Ludwig went off on a stiff, formal explanation about short range and long range weapons, accessories for a sniper-like set up if needed and even "less lethal" weapons like Tasers and tranquilizers.
"Are you expecting to have to kill a lot of people to get this stuff?" Matt asked in disbelief - it sounded as if Ludwig had just purchased a complete arsenal. Ludwig fixed him with a piercing stare.
"You can never be too careful." the German said gruffly.
"Bonnefoy heightens his security during parties," Arthur explained. "And his team is tough."
Matt settled back in his seat, a little perturbed. He hoped that the guns would only be used as a scare tactic - he had grown fond of the staff at the Bonnefoy house and already felt a cold guilt in his gut when he thought about any of them getting hurt because of him.
"Okay, so, here's the plan so far." Alfred spoke up, drawing their attention back to the American. "We're going to purchase a vehicle for sure by the end of the week. It is probably going to be a van, so no complaining!" this was directed at Ivan, who pretended the bespectacled blonde wasn't talking. "Kiku will set up all the stuff in the back. And also set Matt up with the camera glasses."
Kiku nodded in understanding. "Hai."
"Matt, you will take as many pictures as you can over the next couple days." Alfred instructed.
"Okay." was Matt's response.
"Gilbo, can you somehow get a guest list to Francis's party?" was Alfred's next question.
The albino gave him the thumbs up. "Already on it."
"Sweet." Alfred looked satisfied - Arthur less so, and he made his dissatisfaction known.
"That's it?" he asked. "A week and a bit and that's all you've come up with?"
"Hey." Alfred looked genuinely offended as he glowered at his British boss. "We've been working together for a long time, and this is how we operate, yeah? If you don't like it, maybe you should hire someone else!"
Arthur, surprised that Alfred would take this tone with him, spluttered out, "Excuse me?"
Alfred flinched a little, as if he wished to take the words back, but held his ground. "What, didn't you hear me? I didn't know you were that old, Artie."
"You little wanker - " Arthur began, on his feet and facing the American. Matt tugged on Ivan's sleeve, drawing the Russian's attention to him.
"I think the meeting's over." he hissed, and Ivan looked amused.
"Oh, I think it is just getting interesting, Matthew." he pointed out, and Matt glared at him.
"Seriously, we should leave."
Ivan looked disappointed that he would miss such an interesting show. Then he shrugged, rose to his feet, and said, "Whatever Matthew wants."
Gilbert wanted to stick around to hear the argument - even Kiku looked interested, but together Matt and Ivan managed to herd the rest of the men out. Arthur and Alfred paid no notice to them; it was like the rest of the group didn't exist, and their arguing got louder as Matt closed the door to the office. Kiku, Ivan, and Ludwig walked off, but Gilbert was still pressed up against the door, trying to hear everything. Matt was about to berate him when Gilbert pressed his hand over the Canadian's mouth and cackled, "This shit's like a soap opera! Listen!"
Reluctantly, Matt laid an ear to the door, face precariously close to Gilbert's.
"I knew from the start you didn't want to do this project!" Arthur was hissing - Matt could hear Alfred's attempts at interjection, though they were quickly shot down by the Brit. "I knew it was a bad idea to hire you, I had dismissed the things I heard as falsities..."
"Whoa, whoa." now Alfred sounded angry. "Who's been telling you stuff about me?"
"None of your concern!" Arthur retorted.
"Uhm, yeah, it is my concern if it's about me and how I do my job. Look, if you were expecting witty commentary and everything planned out, you're shit outta luck, Arthur. Me an' my boys, we need information, which you haven't been giving us, and we need time, which you insist on rushing us through. I mean, it's bad enough we have to pull this shit off in a month, but if you're going to hover around like a mother hen - "
"I am not hovering around like a mother hen!" Arthur burst out. Gilbert muffled a snicker into Matt's hoodie. The Canadian was not impressed. "I just don't want you to screw this up! I could care less about your well-being, as long as I get what I paid you for!"
There was an awful silence. "I mean - I didn't - " Arthur started, voice panicked.
"No, I get it, Kirkland." Matt had rarely heard his brother sound so serious, and it worried him. "I understand now. But you hired us and we pull heists the way we always have. If that bothers you, I will understand if you wish to seek other employees."
Arthur gave a belabored sigh. "Alfred - "
Gilbert shoved Matt away from the door and they both ended up on the floor as the door was violently flung open. Alfred stormed out, not even seeing them, and as he was rounding the corner Arthur followed after him, face a mask of something Matt couldn't even decipher. The Brit swore under his breath and kicked the door jamb violently before turning. Gilbert grinned up at him from the floor, having fallen partially over Matt in the process and was now straddling the young blonde. Arthur studied them, rolled his eyes, and then retreated back into his study. The door closed with loud finality.
"So!" Gilbert began cheerfully, looking down at an incredulous Matt. "My place or yours?"
"Why were you at Bonnefoy's today?" Matt asked Gilbert. The Canadian was sitting on one of the chairs in the albino's room, having been given a beer and told to "sit down and shut up" while the elder changed out of his more formal dress. Gilbert, having returned from the bathroom wearing ratty jeans and a dark grey t-shirt with the Prussian eagle plastered on the front, looked warily at him.
"Who told you that?" he asked, and Matt stared at him.
"You know when you go through windows and end up having security shoot at you, you're not being sneaky, you're being stupid, eh?" the Canadian intoned. Gilbert paused, then snorted and hit Matt playfully on the back.
"Man, you've got a mouth on you!" he chuckled. "Why can't you be like that with your brother, huh?"
"I am. Now why were you at Bonnefoy's? Did Alfred know you were there?" Matt pressed, and the Prussian man grimaced. Matt took that as a "no".
"Then why am I getting berated for doing my job and being warned about scary ol' Mr. Bonnefoy, when meanwhile you're climbing through windows where you're not supposed to be?" the blonde sighed; then he yelped as Gilbert reached forward to grab Matt by the collar of his shirt and hoist him to his feet.
"Hey, no one can know about that, okay?" the albino demanded, not loosening his grip on Matt's shirt. Matt glared.
"Why?"
"Just...'cause..." Gilbert growled in frustration. "I promised West I wouldn't do it anymore."
"Do what?" Matt pressed.
"Go see Roderich." was the reluctant answer. Matt's eyebrows arched in realization.
"Roderich Edelstein?"
"Oh, no, I meant the other one." Gilbert snapped. "Yeah, him! Who else has a dorky, ancient name like Roderich??"
"Why were you going to see him? Couldn't you have been less...suspicious about it?"
Gilbert pouted, looking increasingly more and more like a sulking child. He let Matt go and sat on the edge of his bed. "Doesn't want to see me." he muttered. "Ever since we broke up."
"Oh, so you're the - " Matt began, but broke off when Gilbert's head snapped up.
"I'm the what?" he asked. Matt gave a weak grin.
"N-nothing." he answered, and Gilbert shrugged it off.
"Anyways, that's what I was doing. I saw him and said hi. Nothing else."
"Yeah?" Matt remarked absently - not that he believed the Prussian's story for a minute, but he had really had his fill of juicy gossip for the day and took a sip of his beer.
Gilbert looked relieved that Matt didn't ask any further questions, and hoisted his own beer into the air in a sort of mock-toast. "You're an okay kid, you know that?" he asked, kicking Matt lightly in the shins. "Not quite as awesome as me, but you'll do."
"Thanks." Matt said wryly, settling back in his seat.
It turned out that Gilbert, when he wasn't busy being annoying or self-absorbed, was quite the entertainer. The beer bottles piled up and as Gilbert became more tipsy he began telling Matt stories about the team - including that one time in Italy, and that time Ivan had almost jumped out of a helicopter without a parachute.
"He did what?" Matt confirmed in horror, the warm alcoholic feeling in his stomach momentarily forgotten.
"Yeah!" Gilbert crowed, swaying slightly. "Man, you shoulda been there. Alfred was about to shit his pants! Ivan was saying something about how he wouldn't need a parachute because the snow was so soft! Fucker must've been drunk or something!"
"What's with that guy?" Matt murmured, mostly to himself, but Gilbert caught it.
"He's insane, dude!" the albino proclaimed. "Fucked up in the head. I mean, he scares everyone who comes across him, and there's rumors about his sisters an' everything..."
Matt suddenly felt uncomfortable talking about Ivan like this - sure, the man was unnervingly cheerful, had no respect for personal space, and had blackmailed Matt into going into town with him, but Ivan had put up with Matt, had even tried to teach him something when he was feeling overwhelmed.
"Look, Gilbert, it's getting late, and I have work tomorrow. I should probably get going." Matt rose to his feet a bit unsteadily. Gilbert muttered something that sounded like, "Whatever, pansy" but let Matt go with a grunt and a wave goodnight.
Matt thought he was okay to walk back to his room, but apparently not - not only did he make a scene weaving up and down the hallways of Arthur's villa, but when he did find a room, it wasn't the right one.
He opened the door. Arthur, who had been busy laying angry, bruising kisses to Alfred's neck, looked up dazedly. His legs were wrapped around Alfred's waist, and Matt's older brother looked quite out of it too, his head tilted back and a jumble of moans spilling from his throat. The room stank of alcohol.
Matt gaped. Arthur gaped back, and Alfred, whining, "Why'd y'stop?" lifted his head and met Matt's gaze.
Nothing is more sobering than your little brother walking in on you about to get it on with your boss. Alfred all but shoved Arthur off him, getting to his feet - Matt slapped a hand to his face when he realized Alfred was wearing nothing but cowboy-printed boxers. At least Arthur was still wearing his sweater vest.
"M-Mattie!" Alfred's eyes were wide. "I - I can explain - "
"Nonono, it's okay!" Matt exclaimed, throwing his hands in front of him in self-defense. "I'm so sorry, I walked into the wrong room, uhm, uh, I gotta go get ready for work..."
"It's midnight!" Alfred protested.
"Early bird gets the worm!" Matt babbled, and quickly closed the door on Alfred's stunned face.
He leaned against the door frame, breathing heavily and waiting for the flush of embarrassment to fade from his face. From within the room he heard:
"You twat, you nearly broke my foot, throwing me like that!"
"S-sorry Arthur!"
"Hah! Yeah, I bet you're sorry....now get back over here. And take those off..."
Matt winced and left.
END CHAPTER ELEVEN
Author's Note: Aron = Iceland. Same deal with Denmark and Norway, Googled "most popular baby names in Iceland". Incidentally, the name means "lofty" - I thought it fit Iceland quite nicely.
UHM and I apologize for the Eddie Izzard/Dane Cook references. Quicker updates = shorter chapters. I don't know which arrangement I like more...