"Well, I'm going to bed now…" Oliver muttered, with a small yawn, as he started to walk away slowly.

"I'll hit the sack in a lil while, Oli, so don't worry bout me." Enrique replied, watching his friend walk away in the corner of his eye.

"Refer to my bed as a sack again and you will be sleeping in a sack from now on, Enrique." Oliver raised an eyebrow and threw a humoured glare over his shoulder at the Italian before walking into the room and out of sight.

Enrique chuckled quietly to himself and shook his head sadly. 'Typical Oli…'

He stared out at the lit up city below and before him, a small smile etched onto his tanned face.

'Now I know why Oli wanted to stay here…' He muttered. 'It's so pretty… not like Rome… I mean, yeah that's a beautiful place, but only in the day…'

The slamming of a door sounded and Enrique spun around just in time to see Oliver dart outside onto the balcony and slam the doors shut, before slamming the wooden panels over them.

"Oli? What's wrong? Did you Johnny come in while you were changing?" Enrique asking, noting the fact that Oliver was still in his joggers but he had a loose, unbuttoned white shirt on his top half. Oliver shook his head numbly and Enrique frowning, seeing Oliver's face pale slowly. "Oli? What's wrong?"

"Stupid kid. He's locked the doors." A voice drifted through.

Enrique's eyes widened. "Oli? What's going on?"

"They…" he swallowed. "I don't know…" He managed to say. "But… I think… I think they want to… kill me…" He said in a quiet tone. "They have g-guns and everything…"

The men behind the door banged something heavy into the door and Oliver was pushed away, falling into Enrique's arms. Enrique could feel the French boy shaking. He backed up slowly until his back hit the balcony banister, bringing Oliver with him.

The banging on the door continued. Enrique bit his lip, trying to figure out what to do, while holding Oliver in a tight hold…

"Pst! Enrique!"

Enrique turned his head down to the ground to see Johnny and Robert standing below in the grounds.

"Guys!" Enrique whispered back (but loud enough for the other two to hear). But the banging on the doors became more persistent, louder and heavier; and the splitting of wood didn't help, either. The Italian turned to Oliver. "We're jumping."

"What?" Oliver stared at him with wide purple eyes. "Are you crazy? We're on the second floor! That's over twelve feet!"

"It's the only way." Enrique said seriously. "We'll make it Oli, trust me."

"Fine… it's better than being so filled with lead that they could sharpen us and call us a pencil anyday." Oliver muttered and he followed Enrique towards the creepers that grew on the wall. "But I won't be able to jump that. You may be able to, but definitely not me, Enri."

"Fine, just hold onto me then."

Oliver did as he said, looping his arms around the Italian's neck. 'This is pure lunacy…' he thought as Enrique put one foot on the stone banister and wrapped an arm around the French boy's waist tightly.

"Three…"

Bang!

"Two…"

Bang!

"One…"

Crack!

"Go!"

Enrique launched them off the balcony, sending them speeding towards the ground due to the force of gravity. But when they were nearly at the ground, Enrique grabbed a creeper, slowing their fall quite dramatically. They hit the ground, somehow managing to land on their feet and not break any bones/sprain any muscles. Oliver immediately grabbed Enrique's wrist and dragged him away from the house, and towards a shocked Johnny and Robert.

"How the-"

"Move!" Robert ordered, having overcome his shock faster than Johnny. The two other teens ran just as Oliver and Enrique caught up. They ran, shouts from the men echoing in the grounds; but soon they faded away as the teens entered the downtown district. The teens kept running even after the voices were gone.

But soon, of course, they did stop, panting heavily.

"Oh, jeez…" Enrique muttered after a while.

"What?" Johnny asked breathlessly, bending over, resting on his knees. But when he looked up, he caught sight of the problem; Enrique's hand was bleeding. "Oh man…"

But Oliver was already there. "That's what happens when you jump off a balcony twelve feet in the air and grab a thorny vine on the way down." He said, while wrapping a piece of white cloth (most likely from his short) around Enrique's bleeding palm and tying it securely. "But, thank you. You saved my life."

"Yes, he did." Robert agreed, still a little breathless. "There was no other way of getting down from that balcony without going through those mysterious men."

"How'd you get out?" Enrique asked, hand clenched around the makeshift bandage.

"We heard a maid scream and Oliver's butler came in telling us to get out." Johnny explained and smirked straight after. "Well, speak of the devil."

A blacked out Hummer drove towards them and stopped beside them. The front passenger window opened and the kind face of Oliver's butler, Pierre, appeared.

"Sirs," He addressed them, the back doors clicking open. The four boys clambered in, sitting in the quite classy vehicle. "I trust we are all okay?"

"Well, Enrique has a bleeding hand, but apart from that-"

"Totally exhausted." Johnny interrupted Oliver, whom frowned.

"Fine." Oliver admitted. "In the wise words of Jonathon McGregor, 'totally exhausted'; we need a place to go. But Pierre," The elderly butler looked at the young French heir, "I want answers before I rest. And I want the truth."

A/N- So, someone wants Oliver dead, so they? (grins) I'm so kind to mah characters, aren't I? But why do they want him dead? AND WILL ENRIQUE AND OLIVER EVER GET A FLUFFY MOMENT?

Anywho, review!