"Was it worth it?"

To be honest Red wasn't exactly sure how Nigel managed to convience him into the car with the Brit. One moment they had been arguging and the next thing he knew he was sitting in the passanger seat of the Spy's vechile, watching the scenery as it flew by.

"Was what?"

"The Chip."

He hated how well the Spy knew him at times, though he honestly had no one else to blame but himself for allowing the other so close durring their time in England.

"It was necessary."

"Thats not a Yes or a No, Love."

Sighing softy, the rouge couldn't help but pray for patients while mentally cursing the spy's need to know everything.

"Nyet, it wasn't worth the trouble it took to acquire it. Da, it was worth acquiring."

A soft laughter came from the white haired man as an amused glint entered his emerald eyes.

"I see. No plans to try again?"

"Nyet. I have what I need."

"Splendid though if you ever try something so stupid again I'll shoot you myself."

Red didn't even have to look to know the Spy was being serious, the sudden change in his tone was proof enough, though if he was to look he'd probably find the Spy giving him one of his famous 'Professional' looks.

Humming softly, neither agreeing or disagreeing, the rouge turned his gaze back outside the window.


The house was just as empty and hollow feeling as ever, he really should finish cleaning up that other Base soon.

Mentally sighing, the Russian slipped off his shoes and jacket, hanging the later up in the entrance closet. He could hear the click from the front door as it was locked and the soft patter of Nigel's shoes on the wooden floor as the other walked past him.

"While you're at it take off that shirt."

"Pardon me?"

Shutting the closet door, the Russian glanced over to see the spy digging in one of his suitcases.

"Your shirt. Take it off."

"Why?"

Emerald eyes locked on him as a elegant brow arched as if silently asking if the younger was really asking that.

"I need to fix the stitches or they'll get infected. "

A part of Red couldn't help but mentally flinch as the spy shut his suitcase with a hand while the other held a tray of needles. No, he was not scared of needles, He just held an extreme distaste for them.

A bit hesitantly, Red undid the buttons to his shirt before slipping it off. He wasn't all that pleased but an infection would be much worse then minor discomfort.

"Where-"

"The Bed. Stomach down please."

Sighing softly, the Russian slipped past the British man as the other heated up a seven inch need to disinfect it. Pushing open his bedroom door, the younger man made his way to his bed before collapsing onto it. Reaching out, he pulled his favorite pillow- a nice fluffy one- to him before resting his chin on top of it.

May as well get comfortable while he could.


Red never liked needles, it was something Nigel knew quite well.

The younger had a strong distain towards them and anyone coming at him with one in hand. It took years of prying and placing small pieces of information together to discover the cause for it was due to the youngers time in a Serbia Lab before falling into the Count's care.

And though he would never verbally hold the information against the younger, Nigel wasn't above purposely choosing the longest needles he could find so that way chances like this came around he would have them on hand to mentally mess with the younger.

Smiling to himself, the emerald eyed man set the tray onto the nightstand before glancing to the Russian who was using his favorite pillow as a chin rest.

"A fair warning, Love. I'm not going to use them now but if they become necessary I have restraints on hand."

"I'll keep that in mind," The younger spoke after a brief moment of pause as if considering his options.

"I'm sure you will."

Humming softly the Spy went to fetch a damp wash cloth and a bowl of water. He set the bowl next to the needles before using the wash cloth to clean the area around the stitches of blood and any dirt that could have founts it way there. Ever so carefully tracing every stich and scar that marred the younger's back like he had once done the first time they had ever laid together so many years ago.

Satisfied with his work, the emerald eyed man dropped the rag into the bowl of water before running his fingers gently over the broken stitches.

"I'm going to have to remove these and put in new ones."

"Just do it."

The mild tension in the younger's otherwise firm voice was the only true sign of Red's true feelings about his current position.

Nodding the spy grabbed the knife from his tray before setting to work, mindful to be carefully of accidentally cutting the skin anymore then necessary.


It was harder staying still then Red would ever willingly admit.

The feel of the tip of the knife gliding over his skin and the brief moments of pain as it sliced through his skin was bringing back more unpleasant memories then the Russian wanted. Yet somehow he managed to stay still as the elder man worked. Closing his eye the younger tried to force his mind to focus on something else, anything really, just not what was going on around him.

Finally his mind decided to settle on Nigel's humming. It was familiar in a way, a song that he could never quite put all the words to, yet the tempo was constantly changing: Upbeat then Downbeat, Fast then slow, paced then rapid. Never quite staying to one tune or vibe. At times, the rouge hair man could hear the words but other times they seemed disoriented and just plain wrong.

A part of him wanted to integrate the Brit but he knew from personal experience that integrations with Nigel was a two way street. He would probably end up weaseling more out of Red then the Russian could out of him.

Spies, even when you're winning in someone shape or way you end up losing in some other when they were involved.