All was peaceful the following morning. The sun rose without disturbing anyone, and everyone was well-rested at this particular hotel in France. That is of course, except for a certain secret agent.

Dominique Bretodeau was wide awake. The man hadn't slept a wink that night. His mind and body were tired, and bags appeared under his eyes. It wasn't stress that kept him awake, nor was it work. It was the fact that this particular hotel had thin walls, and the Englishmen on their honeymoon next door were demons.

"How many times… is it possible for two people to go at it?" he lamented, sitting up at the small table in the corner of his and his partner's room. Dominique had thought that getting a room next to his target's would have been beneficial, but unfortunately, it was just mortifying.

"Is that why you're so exhausted?" asked his fellow agent, setting a cup of coffee in front of the other man. "I thought you just stayed up all night working again."

"You couldn't hear that?!"

"I always wear earplugs to sleep." Said Felician. "My wife snores, and you always do whatever weird shit you do at night."

"Ugh… these fucking limeys…" complained Bretodeau, putting his head in his hands.

"We've already established what they were doing, yes." Felician chuckled at his own joke, sipping his coffee while waiting for his partner's response.

"Fuck off, Lamar…"

"With who?" joked the other man. "I know you swing both ways, but I only swing one way, and it ain't toward men, I'll tell ya that."

"Felician!" barked Dominique, glaring at his partner. "…not now." He sighed, trying to calm down.

"Relax, it's not the end of the world." Said Felician. "They haven't left yet, and even if they do, we can follow them. I'll even drive so you can sleep in the car."

"That works." Bretodeau replied, sipping his drink. "When do you think they'll be leaving?"

"Who knows? I don't know them." Answered the other agent. "They could be the type of couple to lay in bed together for a while longer, or they could be the kind to get up and go immediately."

"I didn't know there were any other kinds…"

"And that's why you're single, mon ami."

"Shut the fuck up." Scowled Dominique, causing his associate to chuckle.

"Well, you've read the files, haven't you?" questioned Felician. "Nah, knowing you, you definitely did. You know their methods. How does that translate here?"

"I don't know." Admitted Bretodeau, pausing to think. "When they do things, it's usually quite messy. They get their jobs done efficiently, but they fulfill their jobs as assassins in a somewhat grizzly manner. They always have a plan, though, even if they have to change it partway through…"

"And what does that say about how they operate outside of the field?"

"It's hard to translate…"

"Maybe you're just too tired to think. You could take a nap before we leave. I'll wake you."

"No, I'm fine…"

"Bretodeau…" scolded Felician.

"Fine…" Dominique answered, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "But pay attention to what's going on next door."

"Got it. No problem."

Meanwhile, the duo next door were preparing to leave, ducking in and out of the bathroom, packing up their toiletries, and getting dressed. Occasionally, they would stop to peck cheeks and engage in banter. Once their suitcases were packed, they loaded them up into the car. Alois sat in the driver's seat while Ciel went to the front desk and turned in their key. Once Ciel did that, he climbed into the car as well and the menace turned on the ignition.

With that, Felician nearly spat out his coffee, instead swallowing it quickly and having it fall down the wrong pipe. His coughing fit woke up Dominique, who immediately bolted up. Reaching for his glasses, he looked up at his partner.

"What's going on?!" he demanded, only to see that the other was choking. Getting up, he walked over to his comrade. "What's wrong? What're you doing?"

As he continued to cough, Felician was rendered unable to speak, but instead, he pointed at the window. This confused Bretodeau to say the least, but he eventually took the hint while Lamar recovered. Looking out the window, he saw the demonic duo backing out of their parking space.

Jaw dropping, he floundered. "Felician! Why didn't you wake me?!" he demanded, grabbing his coat.

"Wait, Dominique, we need to get our things in the car, first." Said Felician, holding his hands up. "And we need to check out, first."

Dominique wasn't listening. He bolted out the door and chased the demons out of the parking lot, but being forced to stop as he couldn't outrun the Mercedes. The man was by no means out of shape, but his lungs still hurt and so did his legs. Dominique nearly collapsed as he burnt up the small amount of energy that he had charged up during his nap, and he was forced to hunch over with his hands on his knees while he panted, his hair hanging in his face as he exhausted himself. His partner jogged up to him, watching the demons and shaking his head. Rubbing his forehead, he looked back to the motel.

"So, uh… Should I be checking out, then?" Felician asked his coworker.

"Yesssss…" Dominique sighed through his teeth. "Just… Just get us ready to leave…" While his coworker left, he stood up, straightening his back and stumbling over to their car. The man tried to open the door, only to discover that it was locked.

"Fantastique…" he grumbled, letting his hand fall to the side. Leaning his head against the door, his gaze fell downward, falling upon a flat tire. That was the final straw. Anger boiled within his breast and expelled outward from his mouth in a roar as he brought his leg back and kicked forward, striking the side of the car and denting it. Suddenly, the man leaned down and gripped his now pained foot, swearing.


A/N: Aaaah... I can't write... School started up and I'm not sure what I'm doing.

We'll get there, we'll get there.

We're almost done with this arc, I think. You know what that means?

After a fluffy arc, we need to have a sad one!

See you in the next chapter, my duckies~!