Russian Roulette: Second Chamber

by Vixen Tail

Part 2 of 2. No one ever said an SI gets a place in canon events, or that they would be ideally placed at all. How much would you recall if you had decades to go before anything in a long forgotten story comes to be? AU, Thief!SI/OC, Pre!Fated Day Arcobaleno, very Pre!Canon

71. Chapter 71

Author's Note : Um… yeah.

I need to take a couple hours and clean my keyboard, so it's possible that'll delay the next update. Or it'll be in three months, who knows?

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Russian Roulette : Second Chamber

Chapter 71

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(Tuesday the 16th of November, 1971. De Mort Castle, Moneglia, Province of Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)

Bjǫrn saw it too, it wasn't just in Sonya's head.

Tatiana decided to wear her new stupidly gaudy tiara twinned up in her hair to breakfast the next morning, mostly as a joke and to amuse Coyote Nougat more than anything else. Her Lackey took one good look at the diamonds sparkling in her blood red hair, glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, then like a good Mafia Land agent kept his damn mouth shut and pretended ignorance as he got on with eating his breakfast.

Yes, that was the same damn tiara she stole while out in Estonia looking for his mother's jewelry. It had the same small missing diamond in the right-hand side. The prongs holding the jewels bent from some long-ago damage that let it fall out equally as long before she even touched it.

Small world.

Sonya busied herself with a coffee cup, kind of not fully awake just yet but she dragged her ass here early for a reason.

Shamal was very approving at all the fuss going around his aunt, but school being a requirement meant he was only catching the start and tail-end of the circus. Her brat made a very obvious show of inspecting the silly crown of diamonds perched in the nurse's hair when Ganauche politely escorted her to the 'de Mort' table, the Lightning Guardian splitting off to go rejoin the Vongola assholes with only a kiss pressed to his fiancée's cheek.

"Are you having fun, zia?"

"I'm having a full out ball." Confessed the redhead brightly, arms snaking out to grab her nephew and haul him right into her respectable chest.

Shamal being a Mist, the only reason Tatiana could keep on doing that was because her kid was letting her. The thief wasn't certain if both parties were fully aware of that and each other's stance on the subject of 'stifling hugs', but it amused them and who was she to put a stop to it?

"Skull still asleep?" Asked the Sun unnecessarily, grinning faintly at the dry sideways look Sonya gave her for that question. "Probably won't be up until noon-ish. Okay. I really appreciate you and Skull are letting me practically invade your place with everything going on, Nya. But we'll move-"

"No." She interrupted before her sister could get that out and define it any, taking a noisy sip of her coffee. "Don Todd and I currently have a difference of opinion going on about the range of his assassins. I'd rather you keep to known friendly territory while around here, Tats."

"Is Tyr and the Varia too far out?" Switched up Tatiana, or rather probably didn't bother doing more than making a note of that to account for her movements while here. Hard to tell with her older sister, she did live on Mafia Land mainly and that kind of threat was… just around there. "I figured we could move the 'meet and greet' aspect off, remain here more or less for the nights, and just deal with things a town away instead under your nose."

"Last minute." Sonya reminded her a little pointedly, but her butler-boy ended up with a series of panic attacks and her housekeeper had been practically run off her feet accommodating everything. "If something just isn't open because the people aren't there or something can't be found in the area, no amount of money will change that. You might as well stay here and do things in the commune, just let it be known I'll only be allowing two or so 'overnight' guests per day since I have those Vongola assholes here too. More can visit, but I'm not putting up every fucking asshole that might like a new Sun in their syndicate."

"We'll call around, of course… but getting that change out might not even reach far enough before yet more people show up." Blowing out an unhappy sigh, the Sun spent two seconds scowling into the middle distance moodily. "Shit, Nya. I thought that'd work to at least take the strain off a little."

"It might. We can ask Tyr when he arrives for coffee later, he knows Sestri Levante and what they might have to offer your plans better than I do." As for that 'strain'… "Palaemon gave us a heads up about how this kind of recruitment drive is handled. We've got today to prepare for the next round, then everyone that doesn't have the tight knit connections that might really want a Sun surgeon and a Guardian's wife in their syndicate will descend on your ass next. He didn't want to tell me but… another day to recover Thursday, then Friday is, since it's your last 'recruit me' day, Friday's a 'free for all'. First come, first served, and all that jazz."

"…hoo boy." Tatiana smoothed the side of her cheek on Shamal's kinked brown hair, smothering him even more in her bust because she was amused at his panicked flailing that wasn't quite as panicked as it could be. She did relent after a few seconds of that, letting the kid slip out of her arms and under the table to return to 'his' seat. "Yeah… the only thing I'm sorry about is the state of your nerves, Nya. Can you put up with all this to the very last day?"

"Yes."

It wasn't even just 'she'll put up with it because the Sun deserved it'. Sonya could use this ridiculousness. Lal Mirch could have an even better look at the syndicates that were around her previous military group and pick out a syndicate she could build relations with while investigating another or three. Everyone and their fucking mother could come and have a look at how happy and content Skull was here with her, and know that if that ever temporarily changed for any reason Sonya would knock a few hundred heads through whatever walls were nearby.

Gleefully.

Politically, personally, expedient reasons aside… they wouldn't have as good a chance to start Lal off on the right foot ever again. They were coming here, she had no doubts whatever syndicate had a really shit Mist that very nearly fucked up the Rain's separation from the military would be coming by too.

Tatiana leaned over and pecked her on the cheek impishly. "Liar. But thanks, Nya. I'll go talk to Ganauche about your points, hopefully we'll come up with a middle of the road compromise somehow."

…speaking of talking to other people about plans, Sonya got up from the table too when her sister did. She ruffled Shamal's messy hair on his way by as she probably wouldn't see him again before he left for school, earning herself a moody little teasing huff of irritability for messing up his 'looks', and followed a familiar voice to Ruslana and Zinaida chatting in the kitchen.

The other mother to a young boy Mist in the castle grimaced uneasily when the thief padded into the tiled room. "Sonya, do you know why Usov's suddenly… not well? He's not ill… or at least, I don't think so…"

"Usov, the idiot, split himself in half. Flame-wise. Trust me, I wasn't any happier than you are to figure that out." Spending at least a full year or two as barely half of himself… with another Usov running about Moscow free of any kind of oversight? "He knew I was up to something and, being the meddler he is, decided to 'remain behind' a little to watch it all go down and maybe help it along. Both that Usov and this one was very disappointed it wasn't 'more interesting' than it was."

Her Beast Mistress stared at her for a long, silent moment. Slapping herself in the face in sheer exasperated worry, the Catholic mother sighed heavily into her palms. "Oh… Usov. I… literally have no words."

"Reassimilating the half of his Flames that was allowed to run free so he could both be here and back with the clan apparently isn't going to be a simple process." Fuck, Sonya wouldn't be surprised if suddenly Usov was one of two 'real' little boy Mists. "Let me know if you have any need, help or otherwise."

"No. Oh I appreciate it, Sonya. The thought at least. But my boy did this to himself, best he experiences all the reasons it was not perhaps the best idea for him to have done." Zinaida and Ruslana exchanged very wry, tired, sort-of amused, very motherly smirks. They both turned that on her next. "Thank you."

"All I did was tell him he was a stupid idiot. I had everything more or less in hand without him."

"Which, I bet, made him take that criticism a lot more seriously than any scolding I could give."

She… really could only shrug to that. Usov took on only the criticism he wanted to be criticized by, otherwise it was a chance to complain and wail or be a little bitchy reality-bending asshole in retribution.

"…why does her son get chastisement and mine gets encouragement?" Sighed her housekeeper mournfully, only half really honest in that complaint and more to tease the other two.

"I could try encouraging Usov…" Sonya paused so the both of them could fully process that, and the likely impossible to imagine result that would follow, by draining the rest of her coffee mug. "…but it's Larion that needs it."

Ruslana huffed a small, sad laugh. "At least it's by his choice. I suppose I should be content with that. You hear me over there, Cesare? I am perfectly alright with Larion's choice. It could've been so much worse than learning from you."

Said Mafioso assassin slotted the three mothers a very pointed, sly look over a shoulder as he put a finishing touch on something before sliding it down the counter to await delivery to whomever it was intended for. "You may be, I'm not. Larion can learn to cook all he wishes, to kill is something I will refuse until he is significantly older. Perhaps once he can shave."

"Amen." Sonya muttered sourly into her mug.

She had half the suspicion Cesare was putting off Larion's whole deal because Ruslana wasn't perfectly alright with her boy becoming an assassin, whatever she claimed otherwise. Rather than because he thought age was a reason to refuse. Cesare grew up with Reborn, who 'started' at the tender age of seven, and likely started around that age himself and didn't see anything 'wrong' with that.

However it happened, Larion's mother was a lot more at ease with the delay not of her making preventing her son from growing up as quickly as some of the criminal adults around here. Which was quite possibly the point of just teaching the Rain to cook first, really.

That, and the skill of handling knives was so much easier when you had something to chop up at hand. Vegetables, fruits, and meat were things a preteen could practice on without alarming anyone.

The cheerful jingle of a dog's various licenses hooked to a collar herald Marco and Alek slinking out of wherever the doggies were before to arrive for their breakfast. Marco was the jinglier, her Alek was completely silent on his padded feet.

Hopefully her dumbass dog didn't eat yet another door, since today was a significantly less heavy traffic one the teenager than manned it shouldn't have such issues just opening and closing the front door as need be.

She eyeballed the butler boy suspiciously when he poked his head into the kitchen next, but it really did seem like the temporary loan of Larion's Tranquility put Palaemon back on an even enough keel to not lose his marbles about the 'guests' again. "Dama… the mail arrived. I may require your assistance to move it all inside."

"…really?"

"I believe one of them might actually be a full-sized statue of something." He informed her perfectly politely, with an equally bullshit attempt at a polite smile. "The crate stands taller than me and will not budge."

Sonya thought about it. "If someone actually managed to send in a marble statue of Tatiana, I'll be fucking impressed. If it's some Greek or Roman reproduction thing, I'm chucking it at whatever asshole thought to send it here."

"Should I wake Master Skull instead?"

"I'll be there in five. Start in on what you can move."

"…should I pass on a warning to whomever I can?"

"Feel free."

(ooo000ooo)

(Tuesday the 16th of November, 1971 continued. De Mort Castle, Moneglia, Province of Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)

Gioberto Sebastiano clapped both of Palaemon's shoulders with a deadly serious expression the moment he arrived. "Calling for help was the wisest thing you could do, young Arcaro. Consider me impressed you had the wisdom to heed to that instead of attempting everything alone."

"…she was the one that told me to."

The older Italian flipped a limp wrist in the air to dismiss that, dipping Hawk a half-bow for setting his luggage for a week or so stay next to him before returning to putting away the estate's car. "You could have called Don Visconti's man instead. I gave you his number too before you left the school. Don Superbi's butler was also a possibility. You could have called around and pretended to not be able to reach anyone either. Our job is to simplify things, to ensure what can be is handled for our employers using all available tools or connections. You did so, as we taught you. New to the job you may be, I've seen less principled butler-hopefuls make larger messes of things for their own pride than this."

Kind of seemed stupid to him to praise doing the expedient thing, but whatever. Palaemon didn't teach countless number of criminally connected people aiming to be a specialized and prized type of help to their groups, maybe it was a thing to make a deal about. "On to business, Ser Sebastiano. Tatiana Primakova, my employer's older sister, is currently hosting a recruitment drive. She's recently engaged to Ganauche the Vongola's Lightning Guardian, a Sun working on becoming a surgeon in Mafia Land's Saint Julian's, and freely unfettered from her previous Famiglia to move interests. Until yesterday, they weren't exactly aware of just what kind of event this is for high-ranked Italians. They have since learned otherwise and called in for some help."

"Who do I have to work with?"

This was why Palaemon kept the man's number in the little black book of phone numbers he was given to record his own connections upon completion of his 'studies'. He was a little effervescent and talkative but once he had something to do, he did it with the same high-energy efficiency he did everything else with.

"Bjǫrn the Lackey, Miss Sonya's main and personal assistant. Storm and Lightning Flames. Hawk the estate's driver and the man intended to be the head of domestic security soon, Storm Flames. Ruslana Tolmachyova the Housekeeper, Flame less, and her son Larion the Rain who assists in the kitchen. Cesare the Mafioso head chef and assassin, also Flame less. Galina MacCuirc, Lightning Flames, she usually takes care of domestic errands outside of the grounds. Her husband Peter MacCuirc, Sun Flames. He's… ah, more comfortable in the background and putting him forward will earn you no good will. Maximillian Samuil the Accountant, Flame less. His wife Zinaida Samuila the Beast Mistress, Flame less. Their son Usov who is a security Mist if currently ill and being covered by another, my Dama's godson Shamal. Anna the Mirror Lady, nightshift Mist Flame security. Verde, Lightning Flames, Miss de Mort's scientific researcher who will not appreciate being taken away from his studies so soon again. His friend Adrik, medically impacted Head of Security right now without Flames. Afanasii Tolmachyov, Flame less, he shops for the estate. Currently two part-time maids, Marinella and Rebecca, who both are unaware of Flames or that we are criminal in nature and that the Mists around will ensure remain so. A full-time maid named Felixa, similar background as the others. And… Mingxia, Rain, a Chinese girl who technically isn't a part of this but will assist if you need her to. Oh… and Mauricio, another Rain, Master Skull's agent and promotional man who will be returning from personal aims later this same week or next. Dama and Master Skull themselves… Cloud Flame users, dual Guardian Prospects, she can use Storm Flames on top of that."

"And yourself." Sebastiano reminded him pointedly but kindly as he followed Palaemon into Death Castle's foyer. "A particularly workable spread of characters covering the salient positions, good. Introduce me, first to your Dama then to this Lackey on to Master Skull and on, so we may begin taking things in hand for them."

"Ah… Dama is wondering if she should call in an event planner now. The Mis Guardian of Master Tyr's, Tito Costa, handled Peter and Galina MacCuirc's wedding on short notice as well and is a man known here. Regardless they will require him for the engagement party, and she would like to know if his help now would assist us."

"Equally as workable a suggestion, we shall see. Their schedule will dictate quite a lot of what can be done in time. Which… we will not know until we ask." Straightening his spotless white gloves with a sharp tug, the older butler instructor slanted an amused glance to him as they scaled the main staircase to start with introducing him around with Miss de Mort first. "I don't believe I require a bribe of the scale your Dama suggested, the connections I can obtain doing this is fine enough."

"…I don't believe the woman will believe you."

"Pity." Sebastiano mused without a drop of it or shame in his tone.

Criminally connected butlers seemed to be a half mix of helpful, conniving, polite, manipulative, and connected. It still made Palaemon's head spin following along with the polite necessities covering greedy or malicious motives, even when his various instructors were trying to be as transparent as he needed to learn the ropes.

See… he knew he could've called the Superbi, Visconti, and even the Vongola head butlers for help or assistance. They all were or would be involved somewhat to varying degrees. The problem with that idea was that all three men would have little to no reason to trust in what Palaemon reported and would have to go off faith their assistance would be 'adequately' rewarded.

When there was a measurable period between asking and some highly visible work needed to be done… it would be less 'expensive' to get help. This was not that.

Miss de Mort allowing him to trade off of her skills for this once was highly appreciated, it wasn't like he had the connections or assets to pay off the debt for immediate work.

She was greatly overpaying, though. Half a million euros or a likewise valued item she could steal?

…maybe that was intentional?

Once this was over, it was likely Ser Sebastiano would spread that around 'their' circles. Dropping everything to heed to a need from Death Castle netted him some hard to acquire item or a significant amount of funds. Making it more likely Palaemon could get help in the future if another of these surprises happened, or just regularly on more mundane issues for the mere possibility for that chance.

However, that was then. Now, one of his previous instructors had to behave as requested even beyond whatever bribery was in contention because this was his profession. Showing or teaching the methods to handle these things to new or young butlers. More than he could expect from another Famiglia's head butler right at this moment, who would hedge their bets just in case.

That was why Palaemon called this man instead.

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(Saturday the 20th of November, 1971. De Mort Castle, Moneglia, Province of Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)

Credit where it was due, Sonya might find Italian criminal syndicates to be overly formal and stuffy… but Ser Sebastiano 'the Experienced' had things micromanaged down to an artform using the same unknown and unspoken 'rules', showing Palaemon how to do just that too.

Then again, Luce blew him clear out of the water.

First thing Wednesday morning, the Donna of the Giglio Nero came by for ten minutes.

The Sky bluntly and straightforwardly informed Tatiana, and everyone else around that early still eating breakfast, that due to her condition right now was not the best time for them. Her condition would make the Sun more inclined to accommodate her, her own 'interest' in a Sun Guardian falsely inflated. To be honest, Luce would like to arrange a coffee date to get to know the other woman for after her daughter's birth if the nurse wouldn't mind.

Tatiana didn't remotely mind, wished her luck, and offered to guide her men through Mafia Land's inadequately small obstetric department if there was an emergency abroad. Mainly for taking steps to ensure anything between them was just due to their Flames and not anything else, partially because it was a pregnant woman making concessions for her condition in the Sun's favor.

Leaving behind an entire crate of crystal goblets and serving dishes as either a 'congratulations on becoming engaged' gift or a 'welcome to the country' one, the Giglio Nero swept right back on out with an equally curated farewell.

Frankly, Sonya would've preferred it had the Cavallone followed suit.

Mid-morning Wednesday, Omar and Leone Cavallone came by to get a look at the new Sun Flame fiancée of a Vongola Guardian. Almost as if this shit were choreographed, or something.

…Omar, Adelardo's Sky and the Sky of the Eighth Generation of Cavallone, was a dickish and opinionated old grandpa of a Sky that should've retired a decade ago. She might've known this due to his antics during Peter and Galina's wedding, and somehow the Inverted Cloud Guardian was perfectly okay with this if not how he showed everyone else, but it remained true regardless if he was respecting some iron clad social rules or not.

Leone the Sky of the Ninth Generation of Cavallone was shockingly well adjusted for someone that had an elderly, overly controlling father that really should've handed things over to him years ago. Unfortunately, he gave in to his bullheaded father entirely too easily. He also gave in to his men way too easily, and it was pretty clear his token efforts were just that.

Token.

The younger Sky was also not alright with 'poaching' the soon-to-be-wife of a Vongola Guardian even if he still needed a Sun Guardian too. Which was respectable of an opinion to not want to do something permanent and likely unchangeable just because an expedient option opened. He'd much rather spend his block of time with Zinaida in the stables checking over the horses they rented from them and getting a few glasses of mead for his troubles, and did so pointedly.

…which wasn't so respectable, given they were here for a completely different aim.

Tatiana was as unimpressed as both her siblings.

Ganauche proved he perhaps wasn't as Defective as he could be, derailing the entire two generations of Cavallone Mafiosi single-handedly despite Coyote Nougat's and Brow Nie's attempts to put things back on track. He ate up forty-five minutes of solid time just chatting away about certain racetracks and the management thereof to the men that usually overlooked them, and Omar was entirely too willing to 'correct' him back.

Sonya wasn't the only one nursing a headache when Ser Sebastiano the Experienced got the Cavallone to finally take their leave. Skull had a slightly pinched, sour expression that almost perfectly matched the same one Timoteo was wearing. Athos Nardone somehow magically knew to come back from whatever parlor he had gotten distracted by right then and not earlier, the asshole that didn't take anyone with him to duck another Don but Hawk.

Weirdly, the single thing the thief took away from that meeting was that somehow Adelardo was going to be 'passed on' from father to son. It wasn't… that strange, Tyr got 'passed on' for being too young to retire with the generation he had worked with and knew best. Passing on a Guardian?

That was possible?

She really, really doubted it… but she also didn't know nearly enough to say that to someone's face either.

Adelardo was a calm, almost passive-natured Inverted Cloud. Sure. Problem was, so was Skull. As they had seen with multiple Rains all concentrated in the same room, passivity was not synonymous with 'true acceptance'.

Sonya was kind of worried over that offhanded mention of two generations sharing a Cloud Guardian, but it wasn't her place to interject and Adelardo honestly didn't seem worried himself.

Also, it entirely wasn't the point they were coming by and doing things here.

Cavallone stamp of approval on their horse keeping skills given and all three known Sky lineages having their turns done, then the rest of the Vongola Alliance Famiglias and related assholes descended on Tatiana's ass starting directly after lunch and continued straight on to late Friday evening.

Torn between getting the fuck away from the less polished experience of 'smaller' syndicates and hanging around because like fuck she wanted to leave her sister to that, Sonya had to grudgingly upgrade Ganauche from 'the Defective' to 'the not-so-defective'.

Seriously, the Defective was one thing. He was 'the Defective' of the best of the cream crop of Italian Mafiosi, apparently.

No, she still didn't like the Mafioso and Lightning Guardian. He had a quick mouth and an even quicker fist, though.

Not nearly as quick as Skull's, but more willing to adapt and soothed nettled nerves than their brother. And throw a punch occasionally if it defended Tatiana's honor or whatever. Like she couldn't do that herself.

Unfortunately, it seemed they had gotten through the more 'foreigner tolerant' parts of the Cosa Nostra, the Camorra, 'Ndrangheta, and the Sacra Corona Unita by halfway through Wednesday. Shortly after the first couple groups post Cavallone. The four main 'regions' of the Italian underworld, Vongola controlled the 'Ndrangheta, Cavallone the Camorra's ports by virtue of their island-based sea-superiority, and the Giglio Nero ruled the Sacra Corona Unita somehow.

…she didn't know if they had anyone from the actual island of Sicily come by yet, actually. The CEDEF was based literally on the island, maybe they counted.

That also… kind of… suggested that Vongola Primo had… not liked the original Cosa Nostra at all even while trying to gather the 'ndrina, clannish-like blood-related families comprising one syndicate stacked in various tiers to control whole towns or regions, together under his banner. Plunking down his law enforcement inclined Cloud Guardian right in the middle of the whole rat's nest of an island?

Was that even around the same timeline as each other?

Then again, he hadn't been or at least started out as a Mafioso. Giotto Vongola had been a vigilante, with impressively strong Sky Flames and an infamous knack of intuition keeping him two steps out of trouble with both nobles and criminal scum in his posse. It wasn't like he had cared about Omertà starting out of the region where the Iron Fort now stood, even if he likely obeyed a form of it without knowing. The whole Sicilian tradition of 'either be born in or marry in' inheritance rules in Vongola were nine generations on and still going strong.

…strong-ish.

Sonya pondered that for a second, taking what she knew now with what should've happened at least sometime between now and then… were the CEDEF being sabotaged?

It was all well and good to firmly declare yourself and your allies as 'drug free, no exceptions' and 'absolutely no human slavery trafficking'. Vongola did just that and had been doing so for centuries. However, if you were an up and coming asshole with big balls or just an old syndicate with 'better' ideas for getting more money…getting rid of the oversight on your ass in your backyard would be the first step in trying to widen one's finances by not approved methods.

The southern half of France's le Milieu, the Corsican mafia that shared half of the Cervello Organization's island, and exactly none of the pirate ships of Somalia nor the Greek Godfathers of the Night followed suit.

Vongola had more influence internationally north and east of their holdings than south or west.

…which was weird, because on the scale of difficulty just holding a meeting with someone in France rather than Greece?

It should've been the other way around, just based on what historically Vongola could talk to more frequently. Over a piddly mountain range or around the same sea, they should've had stronger links to their own backyard. A world war or two could totally have changed that, especially since the Mafia Wars got so bad it paralyzed an entire country's ability to respond or even contribute for their allies and rivals.

When she went through Greece a couple years ago, what Vongola would think of them jumping into bed with Turkish slavery rings didn't even merit a side-topic or two. Not 'we'll lose trade/security', nor even 'it'll piss off a neighbor', were serious sticks of contention stalling the situation. The loudest mouths were the other Slavic syndicates around that had their own reasons to loathe the skin trade.

…she still wanted a personal Greek island to retire to. Maybe there was a small fringe-ish one closer to Italy than Greece somewhere?

"…uh, miss? Can we get down now?"

"No." Was there a reason her vaguely ill-thought-out retirement plans relied on a Greek island property?

There were a hell of a lot more person-sized splits of land in the Pacific, or even the Gulf of Mexico.

"Milady, I do believe one of our… guests, is about to drop from the strain."

"Sucks to be him, hope he breaks both legs." Had there been a reason aside just the easily controllable security and a personal bit of land?

…what was her original thought before bending off on this tangent?

Making a mental note to go bother her 'newest' independent dependent about learning to sail his houseboat the moment she had a decent slot of free time, the thief sighed tiredly and stretched out both legs in front of her.

Sitting on a metal bar for a few hours was not good for one's circulation. Anna was completely cheating by sitting in thin air, even if she had offered to allow her to sit upon it too. Sonya was semi-certain if she got bored enough the Mirror Lady would dump her on her ass, so no one should be surprised if she declined.

Sitting here until someone bothered to wake up on a Saturday morning so neither Todd assassin snuck off to escape was boring as hell.

Sonya heaved another tired sigh and retraced her thoughts back.

…assholish smaller Italian mafia syndicates were assholes. Not totally, but enough so it kind of stuck out when someone had more reach than just an isolated town and their hick cousins' to them.

A whole lot of this culture's made men were all related somehow. Unlike the Russian vory, a vor was recruited or 'promoted' in prison only and expected to not have children unless specific permission was acquired or they were high enough in rank to be allowed blood family, Italian Mafiosi had kids as almost a matter of fact. In Russia you respected your old family and the relationships from a distance, but they couldn't be placed higher than your new criminal in-laws.

Not only just the difference in kids and the expectation thereof, Italian syndicates were solely composed of extended and close-knit family units. A famiglia could entirely be made up from everyone in a specific branch of an actual family line, and to join then you had to marry the sister or cousin of that famiglia's head or be someone who already was part of that by being a famiglia member's kid.

Either be blood related or marry in, otherwise fuck off. That was how most Italians viewed 'recruitment' from other cultures. They preferred it if you'd stick with other Italians, too. Just so you know.

Hence Nilda being married to the head of the Superbi Famiglia. Two families joined to share port access, as half a successful negotiation celebration and half a literal joining of two syndicates. By marriage. A marriage that will not ever end without one or the other dying for it to end.

That was normal here. Worse yet, since it was all family… they liked to share their opinions. Loudly.

Unlike with those 'high ranking' enough to be perfectly secured in their syndicate's standing or 'social/criminal ranks', more notably the Sky lines of Italy paired with a significant chunk of the Vongola Alliance that gave them Guardians and the 'radical' Varia Assassination Squads, a whole lot of the further flung regional-locked famiglias actually had racial issues with Tatiana marrying Ganauche.

Like… enough of an issue some brought their prettiest daughters to try to 'derail' the marriage before it could even start. They wouldn't say that was why their young daughter/cousin was with them… but fuck. Why else drag the girls along?

When even Fiorella caught on almost immediately… that was more a credit to Lisa's teaching than how transparent the whole shit-show from Wednesday to Friday evening was. But… Shamal noticed.

Not just Shamal, Usov, and Anna… Ruslana and Zinaida too. It shifted the entire castle's reception to whatever number Italian famiglia that had come by, being such shits to the bride-to-be.

Then again Mists were cheats made real, her housekeeper and her Beast Mistress were both married women. So perhaps that also wasn't a good example.

Verde noticed.

The Lightning only belatedly noticed fifteen minutes after pulling his head out of everything Sonya might have on the Arcobaleno issue, mainly to report he had absolutely no idea what Checkerface had moderated his bullshit for or it wasn't in that pile of old documents. Not even a suspicion. Having driven himself half up the bend trying to figure out something that might not even be in that old letter to no one written by an ancient Storm mason or a journal of an equally ancient Rain bodyguard that had little to nothing to do with the Arcobalenos at all, the Frenchman blearily peered around at their 'guests' and bluntly asked 'what the fuck?'

Since when did 'congratulating a couple for their upcoming nuptials' involve attempting to ineptly seduce one party from the other?

Tatiana pointedly inspected her short nails, sitting firmly next to Fiorella during that 'visitation', and responded rather pointedly of how impossible it was to derail a Lightning that had made up their mind. She wasn't remotely worried and was just taking notes on who all tried. She had very overprotective paired Cloud siblings who would have very dim opinions on who attempted to ensure she was 'stood up at the altar', after all.

Not to mention, their daddy headed up a Russian syndicate and would be told right before the wedding. It was nice having family in high places, wasn't it?

For herself, the Lady of Vongola beamed at Verde very approvingly, in a very Lisa-ish kind of way that gave all three adult children of that woman a momentary pause. Fiorella also chipped in she was interested to note these people had this kind of view to be so breathtakingly rude… it was probably why they had so much difficulty earlier on in their relationship with Sonya when she was building up a support base to move here and conform to Italian sensibilities about raising her godson 'correctly' in his homeland.

It was very interesting, wasn't it?

Ganauche gave the very distant cousin some generations removed that he had been talking to a very dry, unimpressed look with his remaining eye and told her she might want to leave now. He might not have noticed but now that another Lightning pointed it out bluntly enough to get him to realize it too, he was very unamused at the attempt.

The whole 'didn't notice' thing did more damage to the girl's feelings than being caught at it or having it pointed out and the fiancée not caring a damn bit at her attempt. Tatiana's opinion was a close second, followed even closer by exactly how unhappy her father was that she 'failed'.

Sonya got to toss out the entire group at Bec de Corbin point, one snarl had every Mafiosi they had moving very cautiously to leave and leave quickly. She pointedly ignored the girl slinking along after them, who was embarrassed quite enough really.

…Renato had suffered through similar shit when he had been the very temporary Don of de Campos, everyone wanted him to marry in to their own 'ndrina to join 'his' to their own powerbase and get a very experienced and powerful Sun using Mafioso and his Misty godson to boot after 'rescuing' their cousins. Everyone had known the hitman was a very temporary leader, he made no bones about not wanting to stick around and that he remained there to haul it out of the dirt just to spite the man that wanted to murder him he already killed.

It had been amusing at the time, to hear him bitch sourly about 'Croc-zilla' and her horse-faced daughter. After their bare half hour of visitation to make snippy comments to Tatiana's hilariously if politely unconcerned face, Sonya sourly wished she had done more than just terrify the woman momentarily at one Vongola Ball a few years ago.

Clearly, Croc-zilla remembered her and her exploding slushy snowball warfare trick that nailed the back of her expensively coiffured head multiple times that year.

Back then, it was safer for Renato to spend his time hauling de Campo's famiglia out of the dust while he had an ankle biter attached no matter the headaches it gave him. A secured roof over their heads, other Mafiosi to guard their backs, three square meals for both him and Shamal, and possibly could let him work out a spot for the Mist to be raised there with the local Mafiosi keeping an eye out for him.

If.

If Vongola or Sonya weren't as accommodating as he wished when his 'not' friends refused to be reached or couldn't chip in. If he couldn't surmount the damages done to his contact network and that ended up killing him despite what responsibilities he had. If a lot of things, but shockingly it had kind of worked out in Renato's favor with just a bit of time and a whole lot of elbow grease so that plan just ended up being a nice bonus in someone else's favor.

Half of that 'temporary' label apparently came from him not wanting to 'take over' someone else's family, because tradition was that a member of that family became head upon the death of the old. Had he wanted to stay he'd have to marry some bint exclusively for her blood connection to de Campos, to raise Shamal for him and possibly have a kid or two himself, just to not have a full out revolt on his hands. Half because he didn't care to put down roots just yet or get married, mostly because the bickering and expectations for a 'head' of a family pissed him right off.

Speaking of de Campos… they were probably Sonya's most preferred guests of the entire week. Beating out Luce for her ten minute exclusive by arriving and leaving everyone but the Don on the outskirts of Moneglia.

Seriously, everyone. A single man, the current Vongola approved Don of that family knot, was the only one to knock on her door. He greeted Sonya politely, gave Tatiana a couple absolutely ancient bottles of brandy, heartily shook a bemused Ganauche's hand, and wished them all luck.

He then left, within five minutes.

Didn't stay to kiss up to Timoteo, Athos Nardone, or anyone. Didn't stay to the edge of his 'allowed' hour to try to talk Ganauche into marrying one of his cousins or daughter if he had one instead. No fuss, no mess, nothing beyond polite necessity and honest enough in it he got away with it just like Luce had.

Sonya did have to explain to her siblings and the extended if slightly confused Vongola unit that her dead ex likely had taught the entire if minor 'ndrina how to interact with strong Flame users they had no examples of to learn it from. Just for Shamal, had plans not changed and she moved to Italy to raise him… that was where the kid likely would've grown up until Dante got him into Mafia School.

She would've visited no matter what, yes. Meaning they had to know how to deal with examples of Suns, Mists, and those rare Cloud-Storm mixes. Might as well teach them how to deal with the rest of the array of Dying Will Flames as Renato knew them, too.

In Vongola's back yard, loosely protected by the local syndicate out of respect for his godfather's favor to them in not murdering them all to a man, and more or less safer than the hitman had been growing up.

Fuck, she missed Renato's manipulative ass.

Reborn was as much the same Mafioso as Skull was to Cherep, but there were pointy differences forced into the men to keep the division between personas distinctly unlinked. Renato could hug her because she wanted a hug in public and in broad daylight, Reborn had to strain everything to not hug her unless they were safely private enough he could do something so 'out of character' to someone 'unknown' to him.

There was a difference, and said differences stung sometimes when it smacked her in the face.

"Does the fact we're not here to do anything but scare your sister count for anything?"

"Shut up, you idiot."

Tipping her head back, and causing one of her neck vertebrae to snap on her, the thief pointedly regarded the two men hanging off her second-first floor spanning chandelier with limited amusement. "Does the fact I returned the last Todd assassin that got caught in my territory dead matter to either of you?"

"Vongola's here." The chatty assassin pointed out, sounding both exhaustedly strained and cheerfully unconcerned at the same time as he blocked an irritated kick from his fellow with a sharp jab of his own toe into an offending knee. "We're part of the northern half of the Vongola Alliance."

"Point of contention here, I'm not. I don't care either."

"Then why wait?" Shot back that same Mafioso pointedly. "Why not kill us?"

"You haven't killed anyone." Sonya allowed for their due, supremely unconcerned by the implication he was trying to heap on her. "My sister is the one you targeted, so she's being given the right to decide what to do with you. Until then, when she's awake, do as your little friend said and shut up."

"…that's not what Don Todd said would happen." Quiet Idiot commented to his fellow in what probably should've been a whisper.

Technically, with all the books on the first floor padding the acoustics of her castle, it would've been a whisper had they not been hanging in an empty space between the first and second floors.

The second floor of Sonya's castle had less books padding the walls for that exact reason.

That same fact had caught more than just them out with, would continue to catch people by surprise with such a simple design choice, and therefore she loved it. It also prevented her from hearing every fucking footstep down the ground floor hallways, which was equally as nice.

So useful, her books… she needed more books.

Anna sighed pointedly at her side, shifting her mirror to peer into it. "Master Tito Costa is now awake, milady. We could turn them over to the Varia to be dealt with."

"We could." Agreed the Storm-Cloud perched on a railing, blandly. "If that's what Tatiana wants."

The Mist at her side was mildly annoyed by being forced to be here too watching their 'catch', but instead of commenting on that she allowed yet another copy of her Pavuchky to crawl out of her mirror's surface. To join the slightly more than a baker's dozen already infesting that chandelier, preventing the caught assassins from climbing up the fixture for a rest.

…Anna was really kind of pissed off that they had to do this when she was responsible for the commune's safety. Being a polite and well-mannered Mist all over, she disliked that she had to wake the older Russian woman for logistical help as much as she disliked being too responsible to just fuck off to her own aims now things were 'in hand'.

So to speak.

Sonya already long ago offered to watch them herself and let the Mist wander off, right after a highly pissed off Cloud suddenly showing up behind them chased them up there. Anna had refused primly. She probably regretted that now, and the thief was entirely too petty some hours after that point to reoffer the same thing again.

If Costa was awake now… at a little after four in the fucking morning, it was possible Tyr might be getting up soon.

She hoped he came by, even if only to make a pointed dig about non-Varia assassins being better than sloppy northern Italian assassins. She could really use a cup of coffee right now.

(ooo000ooo)

(Saturday the 20th of November, 1971 continued. De Mort Castle, Moneglia, Province of Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)

While Andre Roux was perfectly fine with putting it off for a time as some big hullabaloo was going on, he knew perfectly well he owed Sonya Bazanova a heartfelt thanks for getting him off Mafia Land. At least.

People tried to stop her, she didn't let them and gave him exactly what he asked for. Whatever the issue was, over objections, and the few rules he had to live with weren't all that hard to meet in return. Andre was a 'murderer on the run' even if he was innocent of that crime, the number of people that stopped to hear him out was vanishingly small.

Who would actually extend a hand to him was even smaller, a favor or no favors done.

The brand-new houseboat, the career where he could fish all day and eat it or sell it as he wanted, and a docking slip permanently assigned to him on shore in a lively Italian dockside were incredible. He didn't ask for it with the 'get me out of here' request, but he got it. For free. No fees, no favors, all of it was given to him outright. He owned the boat, his fishing tackle, and the docking slip.

Even if it was repayment for being caught out in a situation at her store, that he worked at. His mamma hadn't raised an ungrateful boy, and there seemingly wasn't any ties to anything.

Andre didn't believe that, but it seemed like it.

On her return from some secretive something, Mingxia said Saturday morning would be the best time to go and talk to his 'patron'. Once he woke up Saturday morning, Andre went right up the hill to 'Death Castle' and knocked on the door.

He regretted everything immediately when the door was opened.

His 'new alias' included the understanding of Italian from a second-hand speaker transferred by 'Mist', so he was only moderately certain what was being talked about by everyone in the impressively large foyer of the castle. Arcaro, who helped teach him how to sail the houseboat his family hooked him up with hot off the dockyard, grimaced behind the back of the butler who answered the door for Andre.

…he thought Arcaro had been the butler.

"Nya, that single button is doing some work. Think maybe you should go get dressed?" Demanded a redheaded woman he was very sure wasn't Italian, but another Russian. Hands on her hips and sounding both amused and exasperated, the elegantly if casually dressed woman had her hair handing in a braid down her back and was looking up the flanking staircases to the next floor up. "Because I'm very concerned over the integrity of your favorite silk shirt there."

"No faith." Mocked a faintly familiar voice, which was his old-current-still employer. Andre inched forward slightly to see what was so damn distracting and what the hell was going on. "You going to pass judgement on these assholes yet, Tats?"

There was a lot going on, it took Andre a few seconds to process everything.

Two men were hanging from a day-glow, massive spider infested chandelier. One unconcerned if strained, the other embarrassed to hell and back again from that shade of puce his entire upper body was showing.

…or he was trying not to fall. Or, the massive spiders perched on his knuckles were giving him fits.

The point being, there was a whole lot of distress up there.

Miss Bazanova herself… was perched on a railing overlooking the ground floor foyer in her pajamas. What passed as pajamas, maybe.

A man's white silk shirt, worn down and almost sheer in some places, was straining against everything and the woman wearing it. A single button held the cloth shut across the woman's rack, which apparently was the only garment she was wearing on her top half.

It was seriously threatening to shear off, and possibly take out an eye with a ballistic button. That she was balanced on a black iron railing couldn't be helping shit.

She also was wearing a pair of short shorts, which wasn't remotely as modest as a full-dress shirt should've been. How that didn't pass as a pair of panties he wasn't certain.

"Mr. Roux… right on time. Would you mind delaying our meeting a good twenty to thirty minutes?" Tossing a dismissive gesture to her day-glow spider infestation and the men being threatened by it as if to suggest it was a minor thing, the thief smiled rather evilly down at him specifically. "Just until we get this little assassin detail cleared up?"

He eyeballed her suspiciously, then the men apparently here to try killing someone. "Sure? Where? Do you want me to go back to the village or stay here?"

"You can of course join us for breakfast due to the bother." Purred the young woman, sliding right off the railing to land on the balls of her feet in front of him and everyone else.

That lone, poor button dinked off the highly polished stone floors repeatedly as it sadly departed and left the cloth to it's inevitable doom to escape the forces it had been so strained under. Andre immediately averted his eyes, even if she crossed her arms to hold the fabric more closed than not. "Uh… sure. Right. I'll just follow Arcaro around."

"I appreciate the allowance." Bazanova informed him politely, as if the whole reason he was here was not to get the 'unspoken' nailed down for his relative freedom from Mafia Land. She then pointed a finger right up under the redheaded woman's nose. "One. You can give one of them to the Defective. Not both."

"You said I got to pick what happens to them, Nya." Countered the brash Russian back, hands now on her hips and wholly unimpressed entirely. "And I told you that shirt was about to let go."

"I can sew, it's not the first time a button from a men's shirt attempted to abandon me." With a scoff and a toss of her own shorter blond hair, the thief he was here to talk to sniffed pointedly behind Andre's back. "I'm fairly certain the CEDEF has been sabotaged or possibly compromised to some degree, one to them. One to me. Then all bases are covered, and Don Todd will get the notice that no. I don't give two fucks for what he thinks he can get away with. There are rules for being here, and he will be expected to keep to them."

Palaemon did risk a glance backwards, winced a little at whatever the audiences' reaction to that declaration was, and faced forward again with a heavy sigh. "You didn't have to have me escort you, Master Rulli."

…right, Rulli was him now. Not 'Roux' anymore, Rulli.

Andre sheepishly rubbed his left arm. "Yeah, I've been here before. Still feels weird to be here. On dry land, I mean. Rather not be thought of as imposing from your head chef, either."

The young Italian teenager shot him a more honestly amused look. "I don't blame you. Master Cesare got rid of my predecessor for being a law enforcement plant. He's not… particularly easy to deal with."

Well. Shit.

No one told him that.

"So… what's all this about, anyway? There's more than just 'our' people here, Mingxia didn't tell me what was going on." Weird as it was to have his 'involvement' dictated by a preteen girl from China, it wasn't so weird that Andre would not follow her advice.

If there was a preteen kid on Mafia Land, unescorted and wandering around freely, you better believe said kid could probably kill better than veteran soldiers could. Being young was no real measure of how 'safe' others were.

Point in fact, the kid that gave him a Mist's second-hand understanding of Italian more fluently than any American Louisianan could learn honestly in the time he had been 'missing' for. Usov was a creepy little fuck, and if that kid wasn't perfectly able and willing to slit Andre's throat and piss on his grave as an even younger preteen than Mingxia… he was a fucking chicken.

So no, he'd stick to the weird Chinese members of this little group perfectly happy to do so. Mingxia's desire to be a lawyer was downright mundane and a little surprising it was being supported, and the old 'Master' Yaozu had heard his situation out from start to finish over dinner his first night free of Mafia Land then offered self-defense lessons. For free, just so Andre wouldn't find himself in that situation ever again.

"Tatiana Primakova, Master Skull and Miss Sonya's older sister, is getting married. To the Lightning Guardian of Nono Vongola." Palaemon informed him brightly, meaning this was good news… probably. "This is her last day of vacation before needing to head back to the hospital."

…sure, okay. Told him nothing, really.

Andre was very much done with 'mafia' stuff right now, to the point he was probably unwisely burying his head into the sand about the local examples. Probably for the next three or so years to make up for how long he'd been stuck on a moving island in the middle of international waters that was full of nothing but.

Down one single hallway from the pileup at the front foyer, the young Italian gestured him into the dining hall alone and went back to maybe figure out how to pitch in. He got one step in, then Usov made a clucking chicken noise at him from a convenient corner next to one of the big windows letting in the early morning sunlight.

…yeah, this was also why he preferred Mingxia to tell him when and where to show up. Some of the people here were complete utter assholes.

But he was here, in Italy. Safe, with a home and the means to make a living already secured. That was the important part.

(ooo000ooo)

(Saturday the 20th of November, 1971 continued. De Mort Castle, Moneglia, Province of Genoa, Liguria, Italian Republic.)

Skull came down for breakfast the very last day of Tatiana's vacation, then had to catch his younger sister in a bear hug to take her right on back up the stairs.

He had not signed up to be the adult in this situation, thank you. Why, Sonya, why?

He was supposed to be the childish one. He also wasn't the one running around in indecent pajamas when they had guests over either, but his point stood. Damn it.

Get dressed first, then deal with assassins. Why wasn't that common sense?

…exactly when did Sonya learn otherwise?

Mauricio needed to come back from his solo magic show to test the waters for him around here soon. Skull didn't have any plans to do a show himself for the rest of the year and they had a meeting in Ipswich coming up, but planning a series of them kind of involved calling around and setting up venues willing to host possibly destructive events like that ahead of time and starting the promotional advertising early enough people had fair warning to clear a spot in their daily schedules to come see.

Yes, he could do it himself. It was just… nice to have the Spanish Rain's help keeping track of everything and ensuring he didn't miss a detail or three.

Which he might've done a time or twice to the point his hype man had asked politely to be left negotiation duties. Please.

Back downstairs once his younger sister was convinced to change already, apparently Sonya wanted one of the assassins and Tatiana wanted the other to be given to the Vongola Mafiosi.

Skull called up Adrik to take care of that. It wasn't his place, and he didn't really care about the fate of men that thought sneaking into the castle to 'scare' his sister was a good idea. Sonya already knew, Tatiana knew, their soon-to-be in-laws could learn the hard way if they wanted.

Obviously there were some criminal Italian things at play, and while his sisters were perfectly happy to muck about it he wasn't and therefore sure. Whatever.

The Mirror Lady needed to be dismissed, it was past sunrise and her bedtime and Usov was up to take over for her. All the Pavuchky infesting the chandelier needed to be coaxed out and sent to his webbing too, which really shouldn't have been as much a production as Anna decided it had to be since only one could be real.

That poor butler guy Palaemon borrowed for them… he was a little green at realizing that massive multicolored orb weaver had lived here too while he was staying over to help them. Several people didn't realize that part of the castle's live-in defense was Pavuchky aided and abetted by the Mirror Lady, and quite a few had questions.

Horrified questions.

Needless to say, this was not Skull's favorite morning ever.

…that seriously wasn't the only 'Death Castle' secret no one outside of them knew of.

Really, stop freaking out. Pavuchky was a perfectly well-behaved spider, he only bit those Anna disliked. The assassins were covered in swelling spider bites, but Skull wasn't was he?

Fiorella then proved she was just as evil as Lisa and pointed out the 'skull shelf' in the kitchen to her husband and Ganauche's uncle. Dons Vongola and Nardone went to go see, both blanched, and then pointedly and quickly vacated Cesare's domain in a fast hurry.

Skull washed his hands of the entire mess brewing and went to go see the new guy.

His sisters were pains in the ass, in different ways. Then he learned little details that made all the headaches and worry so worth it.

Tatiana wanted to use his undeath to figure out how to clone parts other people were missing. Mainly for one of her former gang members, partially for her man, and then for whoever would pay her… and him. Being the originator of Cloud Voodoo, his older sister argued a royalty for him for giving her the idea.

He'd get two percent of all medical fees related to or involving Cloud Voodoo. Skull didn't greatly care about the money, but his older sister was using him to improve lives. Eventually other non-mafia people around the world would have the same benefit, and that was awesome. Better than awesome, it was downright inspiring.

Sonya… straight out saved a guy from the lifestyle. He said he wanted out of Mafia Land and everything criminally related, and his little sister got him out.

Andre didn't have immediate family in the lifestyle and willing to enable his avoidance like Skull, or pretty purple Flames to ensure very few people wanted to try forcing him into it. What he did have was his own little sister, who listened then actually went all nine yards to give him what he wanted for helping to keep Bjǫrn's head where it was.

"Eh, so long as you stay next to us as you are right now… it's entirely possible you can ignore everything for a couple years."

The guy tiredly rubbed his face with one hand. "I know it's stupid. But it's what I want to do."

"Then do it. If you can't do anything about it, not knowing is generally how most civilians get away from the mafia." Skull shrugged, mildly surprised when Sonya came back to pointedly lean over him and force him almost flat on the dining table via surprise more than force. "Morning, Nya. Are you at least dressed this time?"

"One of these days I'm going nude, see how you assholes like that." Wrapping her arms around his neck, the thief side eyed her new man. "Mingxia didn't say why you wanted a word, and I am sorry about the interruption going on before you got up here."

The other guy, almost as dark in skin as Nahum the African Witchdoctor if he stayed inside for three or four years, who was also probably half a decade or more older than them… laughed. Alarmingly a despairing kind of laugh, not a happy or amused sound. "What's the catch?"

"Fish, I assume. I don't know what's local around here… Shamal should know, he did a school project on that."

Andre made a weird face at her flippant reply, then swapped to English. "No, seriously. No one gives out thousands of dollars' worth of fishing equipment and an entire boat for free."

"You already did the work. This is a reward." Sonya countered equally as pointedly. "If you behave, live out the rest of your life without pressing the boundaries and just remain here, the more we can do for others like you. Fiorella hired me to get a place, Skull here has a knot of people he's trying to save from the same fate. We are aware there are people like you, caught between terrible choices and terrible people… we are working on it."

Skull tilted his head to the side and back to at least glimpse her expression. "…Nya? What's this now?"

"Nahum and Aziz came to see me, I sent them to Fiorella, who decided his idea was great and she wanted to help." She squeezed a little too hard, overcorrected and practically slid off him as she lost her perch, and let him reposition her to the table for this conversation instead.

Thankfully yes, Sonya had gotten dressed. Jeans, some light green and embroidered billowy peasant's blouse, and bare feet.

"Aziz basically just wants to go home again. The bargain is that while no Flame user can hold office, we can entirely have a member of the government in the know with no Flames of his or her own who would make a place for ill fits like him." The thief shrugged, and now he could fully appreciate that instead of being forced to imagine it. "They got to Moscow to talk to Lisa, who pointed them my way, I pointed them at Lady Vongola, who then went through Mafia Land to propose that I steal an entire fucking damn island for them. We're basically waiting out Mafia Land's contract with me to really start, we're in the information gathering and misdirection phase."

"…ah." Skull managed tightly, more than moderately alarmed. "I… didn't know that was what they were talking about the last time we got together. I'm… not entirely sure how they got to Lisa from what little I told them…"

"They extrapolated. They went to Lisa first because she is our mother."

…that would explain how their mom learned of his antics in Hungary to scold him over.

Andre held up a finger from the other side of the table. "Still think I should ignore everything?"

"That's different. You're not going to leave the commune without telling anyone where, when, and why." Shot back the stuntman mulishly, still kind of… really horrified.

What the hell had Aziz and Nahum been thinking?

He told them not to do that!

"So… they now know what I tried to direct them away from."

"They live in a Vongola held safehouse right now." Sonya shot a look at the entrance of the dining hall thoughtfully. "Should I ask if you should be given visitation rights, before Fiorella leaves?"

"…please." The others would remark on them not showing up, and if Skull could at least get the 'official public story' to share they'd worry less.

At least he learned of it before they headed off to the meeting point. Small blessings…

Andre scratched at his roughly shaved neck with a thoughtful frown. "Should I start learning how to sail out in the actual sea, not just the local shoreline?"

"Hold off for a bit, until sometime after next year. I want to learn too." Sonya advised the black man. "I'm pretty sure we can go back through the Superbi Famiglia to be formally taught, and again if you go outside the commune limits unescorted for at least the first five years you'd be in violation to the terms of your release from Mafia Land. Just let me get the time again, and I'll even pay for it."

He saluted them both sloppily. "Okay then. I… think that was it."

She leaned back just to face the guy fully. "You are easily pleased then."

"I own the boathouse. Outright. It's my property."

"Yes."

"The dock slip is mine."

"As long as Bjǫrn lives." Corrected the thief pointedly. "You saved my Lackey's life. You have his lifetime's worth of docking fees already paid for."

He pondered that, and strangely Skull's little sister wasn't irritable or annoyed this new guy was questioning everything. Actually… it seemed like she had been expecting it. "How did I 'earn' the boathouse?"

"By defending my property for me."

"…repairs?"

"Anything too difficult or out of your reasonable means to fix, sure. If you can afford to fix it, I expect you to handle it."

"The fishing tackle?"

"The store guard's life. There's a fee if he dies on our business."

Andre just now looked totally confused and a little more than just bewildered. "Getting me off Mafia Land?"

Sonya hitched a shoulder. "You asked, and someone said I couldn't do just that."