17 SETTEMBRE 2000, 20:51 CEST

MILANO, ITALIA

TRATTORIA MARIO

Fugo found Sabbatini on the third-storey terrace, long black hair blowing in the breeze as she gazed at the stars.

"May I join you?" the gangster asked.

Sabbatini glanced over at him, nodding.

Fugo approached the terrace railing, making sure to give the vampire plenty of personal space.

"Pannacotta Fugo, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Fugo confirmed.

"So, uh…" Sabbatini gestured awkwardly to Fugo's torso. "How's the side?"

Fugo looked down at the place where he got...lasered (if there was a better word to describe it, he couldn't think of one at the moment). "It's doing better," he admitted, looking back up to meet her gaze. "I'm pretty much healed, though I think I might have pushed it a bit," he added, gesturing to his hair.

Sabbatini nodded. "I meant what I said earlier. That hair colour looks pretty cool."

"Thanks," Fugo responded, leaning against the railing. "It's taking a bit to get used to."

And by that I mean I still feel a little bit insecure about it.

Over the past day or so, he had come to the resignation that his hair was just naturally white now. But that didn't mean he was a goth like Abbacchio.

Fugo honestly wasn't sure what had possessed him to follow the vampire. It was just like the night they'd fought Bat Out of Hell. There was just this weird feeling. One that was somehow connected to Helena Sabbatini. He could not explain it.

Now...do I do small talk to make things less awkward? We did try to kill each other when we first met.

Come on, Pannacotta. Think of something.

"I saw your police record," Fugo said after a moment. "Bad driver, huh?"

Sabbatini laughed. "You're damn right." Her tawny eyes glinted with amusement. "My parents took the car away after the third offence. Do you want to know what they did after I got my license back?"

It can't be the most bizarre thing I've learned this month. "What did they do?"

Sabbatini giggled. "They forced me to drive a 1971 Ford Pinto!"

Fugo's eyes widened. "The shitty cars?"

"Very shitty cars," Sabbatini confirmed. "Apparently the '71s were the shittiest."

The two busted out laughing. It had to have been at least a minute or so before Fugo was able to control himself.

"Weren't those recalled or something?" he asked.

"Yeah, in the U.S.," Sabbatini responded. "I honestly have no idea how they managed to sneak one of those into Italy."

"How were you able to drive it without it blowing up on you?" the gangster asked, curious.

"Simple: I rarely used it," Sabbatini responded. "I went to undergrad and grad school at the University of Milan, so I usually preferred to take public transportation." She grinned. "That being said, the first thing Margherita and I did after we got our jobs at the research institute was blow up that piece of crap!"

Fugo snorted. "I'm surprised you didn't attract that much attention."

"Margherita asked one of the local biker gangs to provide a diversion," Sabbatini responded, snickering. "They made us pay three months' rent worth of money, too, to keep everything quiet, but it was definitely worth it."

"Sounds like it."

"Mm."

"So, what were you like, when you were human?" Fugo asked, changing the subject.

Sabbatini shrugged. "Personality-wise?"

"Yeah."

"Not that much different than I am now, actually," Sabbatini responded. "I mean, just because I turned into a vampire doesn't mean that automatically makes me a stronza."

"That's...good."

She gave him a small, thoughtful smile. "I mean, I love art, music, science, and nature. I care about the people I interact with. After some bad shit went down during grad school, I learned not to take anything for granted, so I just take things in with a student mentality and do my best to live in the moment. I'm a much better driver than I was in high school; though, to be fair, Margherita still doesn't trust me behind the wheel given my rebellious driving record. Like I said earlier, I went to the University of Milan for undergrad and grad school. I majored in biology and went on to get my Master's degree in herpetology in '96. I just love reptiles that much; they might not look like it to you, but sometimes they are just absolutely adorable!"

1996. The timing… "As far as that 'bad shit' you mentioned goes...Abbacchio and I found out about Cape York," he said cautiously.

Sabbatini's smile was wiped right off of her face. Her grip tightened on the railing. She looked down at the ground two storeys below, eyes narrowing.

Fugo swallowed. "You were there, weren't you?"

"Yeah," Sabbatini admitted. "I was." She looked back up, gazing at the stars. "Seventy-two of us went, and only thirteen of us came back. Sounds like a pretty shitty grad school trip, in my opinion." She looked at Fugo directly. "Let me guess: the BBC article?"

"Yep," Fugo confirmed. "How could you tell?"

"The BBC was the only news outlet Professoressa Izzi trusted to cover what happened," Sabbatini explained. "But there wasn't really that much we wanted to talk about. It was…"

"Horrifying?"

Sabbatini snorted. "That's one word for it."

Fugo blinked. "So, you, De Luca, and your flatmate…"

"We were all there, yeah," Sabbatini confirmed. "Margherita was with Professoressa Izzi's team on the other side of the Cape, so she wasn't exposed to the virus. She was lucky. So were the other two students with her." She sighed. "As for the rest of us...well, the other 69 of us got infected. Most of my classmates died from the virus. The rest of us who were infected and were still alive at some point or another ended up awakening our Stands in order to survive. It was...ugly, to say the least. It soon got to the point where we ended up having to kill our own friends just to stay alive. It was kill or be killed. Every man for himself. Eventually, we had to form alliances because there was no way any of us could've made it on our own."

Sabbatini grimaced. "When we came back...none of us were the same, mentally or physically. Margherita, Pietro, and Giuseppe became Hamon wielders while they were stuck on their side of the Cape, courtesy of the Professoressa. The rest of us had Stands, but we didn't know what they were actually called at the time. Those of us who were Italian referred to them as 'Guardiani.' The German dude, surname Müller, called his a 'Geister Krieger.' Belen, the Spaniard, referred to hers as 'Guardián del Alma.' Of course, we had all named our own individual Stands by this point, but we didn't know what those specific entities were called as a whole. I myself didn't even know what a Stand was until I met another Stand user at a research conference last January. As for Professoressa Izzi, she already had Hamon to begin with. Apparently that ability had been passed down through her family line for centuries. She also awoke her Stand when she got infected while searching for survivors, and to this day I still don't know how she manages to deal with both, on top of being a mother. But I'll tell you one thing: She's a fucking badass."

Fugo folded his arms. "She sounds a lot better than one of my college professors."

Sabbatini blinked. "How bad was your professor?"

"About as bad as you can get," Fugo said, voice dark. "I really don't want to get into the details."

"I can respect that," Sabbatini said sincerely. "So. Enough about me. What about you? Tell me about yourself, Panna."

Panna. Nobody had really used anything close to that as a nickname in years, save for his Nonna. He didn't mind, since Pannacotta was a bit of a mouthful (which was part of why he usually preferred to be called by his surname). It was just...different.

Fugo told Sabbatini a bit about himself and his past: His 152 IQ; his Nonna (whom he missed terribly after learning of her death); how his parents pressured him academically (to the breaking point, which was partly responsible for his dangerously violent temper) and forced him to attend the University of Bologna when he was thirteen; enrolling in the school's pre-law programme as a political science major; events leading up to him beating his professor over the head with a 4-kg encyclopaedia (he left out a lot of the details, but Sabbatini seemed to get the idea regardless); getting arrested and kicked out of college; getting bailed out and disowned by his parents; and having to live on the streets to survive until he'd met Bucciarati later that same year and joined Passione.

"And, here I am, a couple of years later, fifteen years old and getting my ass handed to me by a vampire," he finished.

"To be fair, you did shoot me," Sabbatini responded.

"In my defence, I seriously thought you'd wiped everyone else out."

Sabbatini's expression darkened. "It wasn't my intention, I swear. Besides, if you were in my position, you'd be just as freaked out as I was if you had five random guys stalking you."

"Okay, fair," Fugo conceded. He looked at the vampire curiously. "How were you able to control it? The vacuum, I mean."

Sabbatini pulled a face. "Not easily," she responded. "It's taken years of practice, but I was never able to control it when I was human. I still killed people by accident, and I rarely brought Terminal Frost out when I was in serious danger because I was scared of accidentally hurting people I cared about. As a vampire, it still isn't easy." She tilted her head to the side, pondering something. "I guess my answer to that question is, quelling the tempest that makes our Stands the nightmares that they are."

Fugo nodded. "Then, if that's what it takes to get Purple Haze under control..."

Sabbatini's expression turned murderous. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?" she snarled, eyes blazing. "You don't know the risks of what that thing can do! For all you know, Purple Haze's virus could be more potent. You think you're a monster now? Just wait until you find yourself unable to live in the daylight, unable to live a normal-ish life, and having to worry about potentially killing everyone you love just to survive. Your DNA will be altered, and you will be stuck as a mutant freak with powers that you never even asked for! Some might be okay with that, mainly because of all of the 'power' bullshit, but I view it as a curse. I fucking hate myself! I never asked for that Mask to turn me into a nightmare! And, what's more, it's fucking asinine to even consider that as an option!"

Fugo gulped, taking a nervous step backwards. "I wasn't talking about the Stone Mask," he said seriously. "I was referring to the practice bit."

"Oh." Sabbatini relented, seeing that the white-haired teen was indeed telling the truth. "Sorry. You had me worried there for a second."

"Well, you'd be in the right to be angry if I was considering that option." Fugo sighed. "Are we monsters, though? It doesn't matter if we're human or not; both of our Stands do nothing but harm. I mean, Purple Haze is a personification of my...ultra-violent temper. I don't know about Terminal Frost, but she gives me nightmares."

Sabbatini blinked. "She's mainly a personification of the trauma I experienced while I was in Cape York," she responded after a moment. "I had also been doing graduate research with some of my classmates at the time to see if reptiles can survive in the vacuum of space, so I guess that got mixed in a bit as well."

She looked him directly in the eye. "Purple Haze also gives me nightmares, even now," she admitted. "But I haven't had any more panic attacks since that night." The vampire shuddered. "That virus was very similar to the one at Cape York, but at least yours appeared to be far more merciful."

Fugo winced. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault; you didn't know."

"It's my Stand, though," Fugo retorted.

Sabbatini shrugged. "Either way, quit beating yourself up about it. That's all in the past. Now we have to look to the future."

"I agree."

There was an awkward pause for several seconds before Sabbatini broke it. "I guess we're not so different after all."

Fugo blinked. "Yeah, I guess not."

"But, in all seriousness," Sabbatini said, "I don't think either of us are monsters. I think we're just...people. Society kinda fucked us over a bit, but we're still decent beings. As for that mask...it's not worth it. Take it from somebody who knows firsthand."

"Noted."

Sabbatini leaned against the railing, looking a bit more relaxed than she'd had earlier. "Okay, let's move on to something with good vibes. What's one thing you're really passionate about? It can be anything."

Fugo considered this. "Education," he said after a moment. "That's definitely important. I've actually been tutoring Narancia in mathematics."

"How's that going?"

Fugo sighed. "It'll be easier once we are able to move on past basic division and multiplying with single digits. I mean, Narancia, don't get me wrong, he's great, but seriously, how many times do I have to tell him that 12 times 8 does not equal 26? It's ninety-six!"

Sabbatini blinked. "What's his math background like?"

"Not great. I mean, he's good with stuff like science and language, but anything relating to maths is a whole other beast entirely."

"He'll get it," Sabbatini reassured him. "Give him time."

"I know." Fugo glanced at the vampire. "What about you?"

"I mean, artsy stuff. Science. Music. Margherita's even gotten me hooked on kickboxing," Sabbatini said. Her eyes lit up. "But I really, really, really love reptiles! Especially lizards, geckoes in particular. Those little creatures are so cute! I really want to hold one!" She grinned. "Here's an interesting fact for you: Geckoes don't actually have suction cups on their toes. They actually have thousands of densely-packed hairs on the undersides of their toes that let them stick to various surfaces. Neat, huh?"

"Yeah," Fugo agreed, smiling. "That's actually kinda cool."

"I know, right?!" Sabbatini smiled. "I love geeking out about this kind of stuff!"

Fugo blinked. "So why'd you choose herpetology? I mean, I know you said you loved reptiles, but what was the thing that drove you to choosing that kind of career?"

Sabbatini stretched. "Reptiles kept getting a bad rap, snakes especially. But what really got it started for me was when somebody accidentally let a ball python loose in my high school biology class. Everybody was freaking out about it, but I just thought the creature was misunderstood." Her eyes darkened. "To me, it was just scared. It was lonely. It didn't belong. So I picked it up and let it out into the wild, set it free. I got two weeks of detention for it, but it was worth it. Since then, I've wanted to educate people about reptiles, convince them that they aren't so freaky. At first, I was all gung-ho about snakes, but then I fell in love with lizards, especially geckoes, and I was like, welp, I guess this is my career now."

Fugo nodded, processing this. "That's pretty awesome," he said sincerely. "Do you think you'll become a science educator someday?"

"That's what I'm hoping for, actually," Sabbatini agreed. "Right now, I'm working in research to gain some experience."

"Herpetology, right?"

"Yep," Sabbatini confirmed.

Fugo grinned. "You're not gonna believe what Mista thought herpetology was at first."

"Bite me. Not literally, but you get the idea."

The gangster nodded. I get the idea. "Herpes."

Sabbatini snickered. "Oh my God...I can totally see that! Especially since the word play works in both English and Italian, oh!" She was doubled over with laughter by this point. "I'm sorry! I just...I know it shouldn't be this funny but I--bwahahahahaha-I just need a minute!"

"By all means."

Fugo waited. Sabbatini straightened several seconds later, wiping tears from her eyes. "Whoo! That was the hardest I've laughed in a long time!" She gave him a small smile. "Thanks for that."

Fugo found himself smiling back at her. "Of course."

Something tells me she's not so bad after all.

17 SETTEMBRE 2000, 21:22 CEST

MILANO, ITALIA

TRATTORIA MARIO

"So Domenico," Abbacchio said, "you said you'd tell me what that show's premise was once we survived that battle?"

"Yeah," De Luca confirmed, leaning back in his seat. "Basically, Futurama is an animated adult sci-fi comedy about how this pizza delivery guy from 1999 New York City ends up frozen in a cryogenic chamber and wakes up a thousand years later to what would be the future. He still ends up keeping his job as a delivery guy, but instead of pizzas, he's delivering mail to various planets. One of his best friends is a robot named Bender; full name, Bender Bending Rodríguez, but that's not important right now. He smokes cigars and is powered by alcohol. Bender's a bit of a stronzo, but a lovable stronzo at that. One of his more famous lines is, 'Bite my shiny metal ass'" (he says that particular quote in English before switching back over to Italian) "and that is essentially a means of saying, shove it up yours."

"Huh," Abbacchio responded. "Sounds interesting."

"It is. It's in English, but I'm not sure if anyone decided to dub it in Italian yet."

Mista's brow furrowed. "Is it foreign?"

"Yeah," De Luca confirmed. "American."

Abbacchio was about to respond when he noticed Fugo and Sabbatini return to the table, flanked side by side next to each other.

Took them long enough.

"There you are," Bucciarati responded.

"I was beginning to think you two had been at each other's throats," Mista added. "Or that you two had killed each other with your Stands or something."

Sabbatini rolled her eyes. "Well, if that had been the case, then there would be a hell of a lot more corpses lying around."

"Whether it's by vacuum exposure or by virus is left up to the imagination," Fugo added.

"Cheerful," Genovese said, cheeks rosy from the Marsala. De Luca had cut her off from further alcohol consumption not long after Fugo had left.

Sabbatini facepalmed. "I am not letting you order Marsala next time."

"Come on," Genovese slurred. "I'm not as think as you drunk I am."

"You are so full of shit."

Fugo blinked. "Any word on dessert?"

"We've still got another ten minutes, ish," Bucciarati responded.

"Sounds good to me."

Fugo and Sabbatini took their seats. Abbacchio could tell right away that the atmosphere between the two was less awkward than it had been earlier. Narancia immediately started conversing with the white-haired teen, while Sabbatini and De Luca began talking about Futurama.

"That certainly explains a lot," Abbacchio said to Bucciarati, keeping his voice low.

The squad leader's brow furrowed. "I don't follow."

"The neighbour. And…you know."

Bucciarati facepalmed. "Okay. I know what you're talking about now."

"So…"

"Let's save that conversation for when the kids aren't around."

"Got it."

Dessert arrived a few minutes later. Abbacchio and Bucciarati both ended up getting tiramisu. Narancia got some cannoli, as did De Luca and Genovese. Mista got strawberry cake. Sabbatini got chocolate cake (which, she said, was her favourite, as she was a bit of a chocoholic). As promised, Abbacchio was indeed the one who ended up paying.

The eight exited the establishment around 22:15, lingering outside the entrance for a moment. Genovese looked to have sobered up a bit, but Abbacchio could tell she was still somewhat drunk.

"We should do this again sometime," Sabbatini responded.

Bucciarati nodded. "Definitely. Thank you for inviting us."

"Of course!" Sabbatini glanced at Genovese and De Luca. "You two about ready?"

"I think I'm gonna be fine on the train," Genovese responded, definitely sounding a bit more on the sober side.

"I'm ready," De Luca said. "We should all probably exchange numbers first, though."

"That's a good point," Bucciarati agreed.

Another minute was spent exchanging contact information. Once everyone was finished, the two groups decided to part ways.

"Hope to see you guys soon!" De Luca said.

"Same here," Bucciarati agreed.

Sabbatini turned to face them, grinning. "Ciao!"

"Ciao!" Bucciarati responded.

The vampire turned back around, but not before stopping to wink at Fugo of all people. Abbacchio saw him give her a small smile before the vampire departed with her friends.

Those two are actually getting along. I'm impressed.

Evidently Abbacchio wasn't the only one who had noticed. Mista ruffled Fugo's hair, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Wow! I didn't think vampires were your type, Fugo! But hey, I won't judge."

Fugo's face turned beet red. He turned, glaring at the other teenager. "Fuck off." He sighed. "And, for the record, we were just talking. Really!"

"Okay, okay! I believe you!" Narancia said, removing his hand from the younger teen's hair. "Sheesh. I was just teasing!"

Bucciarati sighed. "Narancia, lay off him."

The gangster nodded, acquiescing. "Yes, Bucciarati."

The squad leader blinked, facing the rest of his squad. "Shall we head back?"