Okay this chapter ran on longer than I intended. Hope you all enjoyed the previous chapter. I'm not gonna ramble on, you all know the drill.

Key; "Normal speak" 'Thoughts'

2

Bryan stirred somewhere close to 5pm. Not quite ready to get up yet, he rolled over only to fall out of bed screaming. There on the other side of the bed lay Mathilda. It looked like she was sleeping. Or had been as her eyes were open a little. How long had she been there?! Bryan mentally talked himself down from being angry. No doubt Mathilda was still nervous of her surroundings, maybe even scared of the sounds outside and sought comfort near him.

Three loud knocks on the door distracted him from saying anything, grumbling under his breath in a language Mathilda couldn't understand. Bryan pulled his front door open, his already pale face turning bleach white at the sight of Officer Mizahura outside. It took him two takes to realise she wasn't in her uniform and had bags. Bryan looked at his watch sleepily. 17:05 read the bright red numbers.

"It's time you should be out of bed young man. I'm sorry to show up with no warning but I have some things for Ms. Alster. There's more in the car if you'd be so kind to help unload it all."

Bryan grumbled about it being too early for heavy lifting while taking the bags held out to him. Mathilda came out of hiding, equally surprised to see Officer Mizahura carrying stuff from her car to Bryan's front door. She tried to help but was gently pushed to the sofa and told to relax. They assumed Officer Mizahura would leave once everything was transferred but she stayed instead, cornering Bryan in the kitchen as he was packing food away into its proper place.

"Comfy little place you have here."

"FLIPPING HELL!" Bryan shrieked, practically hitting the roof in fright. Officer Mizahura seemed to greatly enjoy catching him off guard.

Calming his racing heart, Bryan caught the supportive woman with a steely gaze. It was way too early in his day to be dealing with this shit.

"Sorry kid, didn't mean to scare you. Have you seriously only just gotten out of bed?"

"That's the thing with working nights." Bryan quipped. "You tend to sleep during the day. Especially if you're up at 7am to visit the police station with a woman who clearly doesn't know what a bathroom is."

Officer Mizahura's eyebrows formed a surprised arch. Was it really that bad? Helping Bryan to store the last few bits, she closed the kitchen door for a little privacy.

"As I'm sure you can guess Mr. Kuznetskov, this is a personal visit. Though I suppose it's somewhat work related. And until further notice I will be coming by every week to see how Mathilda is getting on. As such, I feel it would be best we get on a first name basis. I'm Charlotte."

Bryan observed the hand extended to him, wary of accepting the offer. Eventually he took it knowing Charlotte wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Bryan. Seeing as you've located my address I assume you're aware that my salary can't support two people?"

Charlotte nodded. It was why she'd bought food to last a month.

"After you left I realised it had been wrong of me not to ask if you were financially able to support another person in your home who at current can't work. So until Mathilda is either returned to her family or is given a new identity to start a new life, I'll be supporting you out of my own pocket. With bills and food. I'm not working tomorrow so I would like to take Mathilda out for the day. Show her the town and maybe introduce her to some girls her age."

"So long as they don't want to hold a sleepover or whatever. The last thing I need is my neighbours getting nosier than they're going to be when they find out I'm not living alone anymore."

Charlotte hummed, making a mental note to approach sensible girls.

Within two hours a corner of the living room was set up as a temporary bedroom for Mathilda. Two folding screens acted as walls so she'd have some privacy. All her new clothes were neatly tidied away into a chest of drawers that Charlotte had nearly killed Bryan over when they were putting it together. After a much needed cup of tea, Charlotte left the little apartment feeling positive. Before he left for work however, Bryan had something he needed to do, calling Mathilda to the kitchen. She stood in the door almost fearfully to see him leaning on the side, eyes shadowed by his hair.

"We need to have a little talk about what happened earlier."

Mathilda paled. Deep down she knew he'd be angry with her. She wanted to explain why he'd woken up to find her on his bed but he cut her off.

"When I'm sleeping, you're not to enter my room uninvited. Do I make myself clear Mathilda?" "

Y-Yes." Came the squeaky reply, tears biting at the edges of pink eyes.

Mathilda hid away in her little space after that, listening to the sounds of Bryan moving around to get ready for work. She didn't come out until he locked the front door behind him. For a few hours Mathilda sat reading, giving her eyes a break every now and then by doing a spot of quiet cleaning. Before retiring at around 10pm, Mathilda scribbled a little note and placed it on Bryan's bed for him to find when he got home.

He trudged through the door roughly seven hours later looking like death. Making sure to be quiet, Bryan securely locked the door and crept to his room. In the dim light from the window he saw the letter Mathilda had left. Plucking it from the mattress he scanned his tired eyes over the surprisingly neat, almost fancy, writing upon the paper. Bryan felt awful when he finished reading. Mathilda had only been on his bed because he'd had a nightmare or something and she stayed to comfort him.

Charlotte came for Mathilda in the lighter hours like she'd promised. Bryan had surprisingly been awake, black circles under his lilac eyes. He didn't say much, just gave Mathilda a key to get back in if he wasn't home when she returned and vanished back to bed. Charlotte eagerly led Mathilda down store-filled streets for what felt like days until they stopped off at a café for some lunch.

When the shy pinkette spoke, Charlotte noticed that Mathilda had a slight posh-ness to her voice, almost old fashioned maybe even from possible noble roots. This girl really was an anomaly. She appeared out of nowhere, had no memory of anything other than her name and didn't know how the modern world worked. What backwater village had she come from? Charlotte toyed with the idea of Mathilda being from an older era, maybe Victorian but that simply couldn't be possible. If that were the case, she'd be over 100 years old, not a beautiful young woman. Charlotte dismissed the idea immediately after that. When the food came, her theory was enforced more with how Mathilda ate.

'Don't be silly Charlotte. Maybe she was just raised that way. Time travel doesn't exist. You've been watching too much television.'

With that final thought, Charlotte dug into her own dinner; noodles and mustard. Mathilda had to admit it was strange meal compared to her own salad, politely declining when Charlotte offered her to try some. She went on to explain that her older brother had been the one to introduce her to putting mustard on noodles. Ever since then she'd been hooked on the bizarre combination.

Charlotte's choice of dessert was much more sensible in the form of a strawberry sundae while Mathilda went for a simple Victoria Sponge slice with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side. Charlotte settled the bill after a cup of tea, once again leading Mathilda down the busy streets now her energy had been replenished.

Shortly after dinner the duo came across a small group of girls outside a club that was currently closed. Charlotte waved when one of them, a tanned girl with long wavy electric blue hair and amber eyes, saw them coming. Mathilda hid behind Charlotte as best she could when multiple pairs of eyes fixed on her.

"Come now girls." Charlotte chimed. "You're making the poor thing nervous. It's okay Mathilda they won't bite I promise."

Charlotte's reassurance did little to ease Mathilda's nerves. She already didn't like the amber eyed girl. Just something about her didn't feel right. Forcing her eyes away, Mathilda looked at the other girls present. One on Charlotte's right had light blonde hair and brown eyes, her skin pale brown, almond coloured almost. Next to her was a red haired blue eyed girl with pale ivory skin. The last young lady had tied back coral pink hair and dusty purple eyes, her skin a warm ivory from a lot of time in the sun. Charlotte gave Mathilda a little nudge to get her into view making the poor lass squeak.

"Girls, this is Mathilda. She just moved into town and could use some good friends. Mathilda, these are some friends of mine. There's Ming-Ming, Frankie, Salima and Monica."

Charlotte pointed to each girl starting from the one Mathilda didn't like the look of and ending at the light blonde girl.

"They're about your age I'd say and people I can trust to watch my back. And yours too I should hope."

Mathilda nodded fearfully, slinking away when Ming-Ming moved forward.

"Don't worry Charlie. We'll look after her. It's a pleasure to meet you Mathilda."

Said pinkette shied away more, wanting nothing to do with the hand extended to her. Feeling that perhaps Mathilda had experienced enough excitement for one day, Charlotte took her to a nearby park so she could relax for a bit. If anything the shorter girl looked a tad overwhelmed. Sitting at the park certainly helped Mathilda to calm down, breathing in the scent of the cherry blossom tress.

Before either woman knew it, evening crawled in. Charlotte had meant to get Mathilda home before 6pm but it was now gone 7pm. It wasn't quite dark yet but Charlotte wasn't wanting to take any chances. They happened across Ming-Ming and co on the way back a little distance from their first encounter. Of course the bluenette harried them over but just as they got there, Bryan appeared. He blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things and Mathilda did the same before latching onto him.

"You can't have missed me that badly Mathilda." He sighed, his arm falling loosely around her.

"Please don't tell me she's staying with this pathetic excuse of a man."

Bryan's right eye twitched. He'd recognise that shrill voice anywhere, turning to face Ming-Ming with no trace of civility.

"And what if she is, whore? The fuck you gonna do about it?"

This was certainly not how Charlotte wanted her day to end but was now curious as to how the duo knew each other. They looked to be of similar age now that Charlotte thought about it. Ming-Ming puffed out her already over-exaggerated chest and likely would've replied but Bryan cut her off.

"You're just jealous because I turned you down in school for being the fake little girl you apparently still are."

Ming-Ming turned defiantly to Charlotte, crocodile tears beading in her eyes. This couldn't be good.

"Charlie, you can't leave Mathilda with this monster. I've seen his type before. All sweet at first until she does something wrong."

"Sweet?!" Bryan barked while laughing. "I've already been anything but. The one thing I have been is respectful towards Mathilda while making sure she understands the boundaries under my roof. Now if you don't mind, this clearly woman beating asshole has to get to work. Y'know that thing people not born into wealth have to do to live. Do us all a favour and take your fake ass back to your daddy's mansion away from Mathilda and stay there."

A week and a half quickly went by after the fight between Bryan and Ming-Ming. Mathilda had been nervous of him ever since having seen how quick his temper flared. Around her he was fairly mild mannered, sitting in somewhat tense silence when he wasn't at work. She did everything possible to keep on his good side. Bryan always came home to a clean apartment, the kitchen tidy and clear of dirty dishes, his laundry washed, dried, ironed and folded or hung in their respective place. Did Mathilda even have a hobby? All she seemed to do was clean and cook. He was still getting used to having a hot breakfast waiting for him in the late afternoons.

Before Mathilda crashed into his life all Bryan ate was cornflakes and sandwiches. He just simply didn't have the energy for much else. But now somebody was taking "proper" care of him, Bryan found he had more strength. His ability to work had certainly improved and he was starting to look like a human rather than a skeleton with skin covering it. Every day Mathilda did the same thing seemingly with no expectation of a reward and Bryan honestly started to feel horrible at the thought of Mathilda thinking herself solely responsible for cleaning his home.

Charlotte had Wednesdays and Sundays off and was able to keep Mathilda distracted from playing chambermaid for a few hours but the pinkette always insisted she be home before Bryan woke up. Even Charlotte was baffled by Mathilda's behaviour. It just made her come across more old fashioned. One day they really must sit down and talk about Mathilda's little eccentricities and find a compromise or something before she drove herself into the ground. Charlotte wasn't blind to the look of guilt on Bryan's face whenever she saw him on her nightly rounds or when she returned Mathilda to him. If that was really how he felt, then why was Ming-Ming so certain he'd beat Mathilda like a punching bag?

Bryan found himself with a day off on Mathilda's second Sunday with him, not particularly knowing what to do with it. He never got given days off. Maybe his employer was secretly impressed with how hard he'd been working lately? Bryan knew Mathilda wouldn't expect him up until 5pm and so surprised her by getting up early to see what she would do.

Apparently she also had a routine and it being disrupted flustered her greatly. It amused Bryan immensely to see Mathilda flitting around the tiny kitchen, a scowl on her face. Before the rattled woman could hurt herself, Bryan nervously took hold of Mathilda's dainty hands, still quite uneasy touching her in general never mind when she was clearly irritated.

"Go sit. You deserve a break for everything you've done these passed two weeks."

Mathilda blinked, struggling to process what she'd just been told. She didn't have to cook? But why? Bryan saw Mathilda's eyes drifting towards the pots and pans, deliberately standing in front of them to make her look at him.

"Take your butt into the living room and sit it on the sofa right now. I'll make you some tea and find my own breakfast. Go on, shoo."

Bryan had hoped Mathilda would comply quietly but instead she tried to persist in reaching the oven. Glancing up at the clock, he saw it was just after midday meaning Charlotte would be over soon. She liked to sleep in on Sundays and he couldn't blame her. With much struggle Bryan got Mathilda into the living room and gently tossed her onto the sofa. Him doing so stunned Mathilda long enough for him to unlock the front door and rush back to the kitchen.

Sure enough Mathilda tried getting at the oven again, Bryan purposely putting himself in front of it, blushing whenever Mathilda's hand accidentally brushed his belt. He eventually grew tired of Mathilda's persistence, firmly grabbing her arms. "You're not going near that oven until tomorrow missy and that's final."

Right on cue somebody knocked on the door. Bryan knew it was Charlotte by the three loud bangs. Much as it made him anxious, Bryan had insisted she do it so he knew it was her if he ever couldn't reach the door. Much like the present situation in fact.

"It's open Charlotte!"

With the all clear to enter, Charlotte helped herself into the tiny apartment, confused by the lack of a reading Mathilda. She found the missing pinkette being restrained with mild force in the kitchen doorway, taken more by surprise that Bryan was awake.

"W-What's going on here?"

"Will you tell this bloody woman to calm down? She sure as hell isn't listening to me."

Charlotte opened her mouth to ask why but promptly closed it. Surely Bryan would explain why she'd found him keeping Mathilda out of the kitchen. It took some hair stroking and soft soothing but Charlotte was able to calm Mathilda down enough to sit her on the sofa. Curious as to why Bryan wasn't still in bed, Charlotte ventured to the kitchen. Bryan was leaning on the side seemingly trying to catch his breath.

"Okay big guy what's going on? Why aren't you off in lala land?"

"Was told to take the day off. Didn't know what to do, couldn't sleep so figured I'd get out of bed. Partially to see how Mathilda reacted."

Charlotte raised a curious brow, leaning against the doorframe with folded arms. "And how'd that work out for ya hot shot?"

Bryan huffed what sounded like a chuckle and shook his head. "You saw how it went. She turned bloody crazed, like she'd die if I didn't let her into the kitchen. You need to get that girl a hobby. And fast. I haven't got the stamina to fight her off like that constantly."

While Charlotte did get a kick out of Bryan's suffering, Mathilda's behaviour was concerning. Leaving Bryan to sort himself out, Charlotte went to get Mathilda's side of the story. She'd retreated to her little room and was curled up on the bed, staring a hole into the opposing folding screen.

Hearing somebody enter her space, Mathilda came to life a little.

"Hey sunshine. Wanna talk about what just happened?"

Mathilda tensed, already wanting to forget the scuffle. Her arms were mildly bruised from when Bryan had tried to restrain her. Charlotte wrapped an arm around Mathilda's shoulders and pulled the dainty girl close.

"Come on, talk to me. Why were you so desperate to get into the kitchen?"

"Because it's my job to cook and clean. I don't work outside the home so the chores fall on my shoulders. That's how it is."

It broke Charlotte's hear to hear those words, giving Mathilda a little squeeze. "Tilda, sweetheart, that's not how it works at all. Has Bryan told you that you're responsible for doing all the cleaning?"

Mathilda shook her head to say no, hugging her knees tightly. Charlotte figured as much. If Bryan had pushed all the housework onto Mathilda he wouldn't be trying to stop her doing it.

"Look darling" Charlotte cooed "Bryan doesn't expect you to run after him all the time. He's an independent man and seeing all that you've done without being asked has him feeling guilty. Now, today we're going to go out and find you a hobby so that your hands aren't idle. And if you ever feel the itch to start cleaning or cook when you've been told not to, you can do that instead."

Mathilda wanted to protest but Charlotte gave her no chance, pulling her to the front door. Bryan relaxed fully when he heard the front door closing. However he now regretted not letting Mathilda cook for him, his stomach roaring angrily. He'd just have to make do with something simple until she got back. While kicking back and watching telly, Bryan wanted to do something for Mathilda in return but couldn't for the life of him think what. Looking to the small cabinet by Mathilda's bed, he saw the top was completely barren. Digging through a cupboard, Bryan found some old ornaments his mother had given him when he moved in.

After several hours of dragging Mathilda around shops to tire her out, Charlotte returned her to Bryan's care utterly exhausted. She'd had the decency to warn him first so he could brew a pot of tea. If the number of bags were anything to go by, Charlotte had found a few hobbies for Mathilda to indulge in. By way of thanks, Bryan had Charlotte stay for supper. It wasn't a fancy meal but Bryan was proud of it. And proud of himself for not burning the apartment down trying to cook.

When asked by a curious Mathilda what the dish was, she was provided with the book Bryan had used. Across two pages was a recipe for Bulgur Wheat Kasha accompanied by the image of a professionally made version. Charlotte noted it needed a little more seasoning but otherwise was good. And she derived from Bryan's choice of meal that he was raised at least partially in Russia. He certainly sounded it. But living in Japan had softened his tone somewhat. And him not using his voice much made it all gravelly unless he cleared his throat before speaking.

Charlotte bade the housemates farewell as the sun began to set. Mathilda made an attempt to tidy the kitchen but as she expected, Bryan stood firm in the doorway with a look that told her to go sit down. While she made a quick bathroom trip, Bryan left a little note on the weird apparatus she'd fiddled with before Charlotte left, holing himself up in the kitchen afterwards to make sure Mathilda would have no excuse to get up and clean for the night. Returning to her sewing frame, Mathilda immediately noticed a small scrap of paper that wasn't there when she put it down.

"Check your room." It said so she did. There upon her bedside cabinet were several beautiful porcelain ornaments of ladies with parasols, a vase of flowers in the middle. They weren't roses but Mathilda didn't care. A man had bought her flowers! Bryan almost died of shock when she ambushed him from behind with a bear hug.

Bryan saw a visible improvement in Mathilda's behaviour as days went on. She no longer flew into a panic if he got up unexpectedly and they took it in turns to clean the apartment. Of course for the first week they had some bumps in the road but within two, Mathilda had adapted to a new way of existing. As Charlotte had instructed, Mathilda occupied her mind and hands with one of her numerous new hobbies if she got the itch to clean but had specifically been told not to. Sewing was one hobby, and knitting another. When at her calmest, Mathilda could be observed reading and sipping tea.

Bryan didn't really care much about getting a hobby of his own but he at least showed interest in what Mathilda did, especially the sewing. She'd offered to let him try it but he refused, making the excuse he was too heavy handed for something so delicate. Every other day one of the girls Charlotte had introduced Mathilda to came calling for her, usually Salima or Monica. Frankie was a rare breed of visitor. If Bryan was in a good enough mood he'd let them stay and chat awhile, making sure the girls had enough to drink. It didn't half make him nervous though having to sit beside girls he'd gone to school with. Maybe he should get another sofa? Or two just in case?

At any rate, Mathilda was happy having somebody to talk to, not that she really had much to gossip about. If the girls ever tried roping Bryan into their talks he made himself scarce and was usually found hiding in his bedroom just sitting in the darkness. Sure he'd gotten a little better at communicating with the opposite sex but that didn't mean he was up for full on conversations just yet. Spencer would appear spontaneously to see how the pair were doing which in turn made Bryan even more nervous. Mathilda however was less afraid of the intimidating brunette the more she saw of him. He too was often curious about her little projects, reminded somewhat of home.

How had a month come and gone already? Bryan didn't know, he just wanted the nightmare to be over so he could wake up. The appeal for information world wide had ended in failure, meaning Bryan was now stuck with Mathilda for even longer. He'd honestly hoped to have the pinkette gone before she could plant her roots in too deep. She'd apparently done that by her third week in the apartment considering the mere mentioning of moving out brought her to tears.

Bryan's landlord was so far being cooperative but Charlotte didn't want to try their patience too far, hunting for a place that Mathilda could call her own once she had ID and everything else she'd need to gain employment. Thankfully Mathilda had partially remembered her date of birth, just not the year. She looked a little younger than Bryan, so Charlotte had it set to two years after his. Being a cop had its perks after all. Even after spending a month with him, Mathilda still didn't know what Bryan did for a living. She wanted to ask but at the same time felt it rude to do so. He never wore a suit so being an office worker was ruled out. And Bryan certainly wasn't teacher material. Mathilda couldn't really think of anything else he might be good at and so gave up guessing.

When Bryan wasn't too tired from working his mystery job, Mathilda taught him how to cook so that if she did end up getting her own house, he wouldn't go back to his unhealthy lifestyle of cornflakes and sandwiches. So far he'd mastered frying and scrambling eggs and grilling sausages. Her aim was to have Bryan cooking full on Sunday roast dinners by the time she left. For now, she was content to let him take a few baby steps first. Get the basics down before trying anything too complicated for his novice mind to combat. There were some things that didn't need to be taught, such as boiling rice or pasta. Potatoes were pretty straight forward too.

Half way into Mathilda's second month things were going fine. Bryan had fully adjusted to having her around and had given up trying to get rid of her. Charlotte had hunted down a couple of good sofas for the apartment that were destined for the scrap heap. Bryan might've gotten used to being "friends" with a cop, but she kept him on his toes. This usually meant yelling at him by his surname in a short, clipped tone. Bryan would immediately drop what he was doing and scuttle to where Charlotte had called from. She usually only did it for a pot of fresh tea just to rattle his cage.

Bryan woke up one afternoon feeling not at all rested. He'd been worked to the bone all week with no time off. Mathilda massaged away the aches in his shoulders before cooking him a small breakfast, seeing that he probably wouldn't get through the usual without face planting into the food. It made her angry that his employer was driving him so hard with no thought that Bryan needed to rest. He wasn't a machine. Bryan stomached what he could and limped off to the comfiest couch he had, Mathilda watching him go.

She contemplated getting him to request a day off as he badly needed the rest. But on the other hand he might lose his job if his boss felt so inclined to punish him for working hard. Mathilda remained silent but Bryan could see the thoughts running around in her head. To try and distract herself, Mathilda retrieved some massaging oil from the bathroom, yanking Bryan's socks off as she strolled by making him curl his toes.

Once she had a suitable cushion to kneel on, Mathilda got to work massaging Bryan's bright red feet, immediately feeling just how tense the muscles were. At first he really hated his feet being touched but as Mathilda worked, found the experience quite enjoyable. Hearing him groan about not deserving the care she gave brought a smile to Mathilda's face. It felt good to be appreciated.

Within a quarter of an hour, Bryan's feet felt better than they had in years. Mathilda didn't stop at his tootsies. Oh no, he was getting a full body massage whether he liked it or not. Bryan didn't like the look Mathilda gave him, her pink orbs declaring war. He tried to flee the room, but found his trousers collapsing around his ankles. Mathilda had hoped Bryan would try to get away having discreetly hooked her fingers into the band of his jogging bottoms so when he shot off the sofa, down came his trousers leaving him on the floor in only a shirt and his tighty whities.

With a swift pull, Mathilda had the comfy gray bottoms completely off, discarding them onto the sofa to pull Bryan up by his wrists. When that failed, she went for his loose t-shirt. The threat of being reduced to nothing but his underwear got Bryan off the floor quicker than lightning, snatching a large pillow to cover himself with.

"The hell are you doing?!"

He shrieked in the highest pitch Mathilda had ever heard. From a man anyway. She cracked her knuckles and shrugged her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. Before Bryan could say another word, she grabbed him by the ear like his mother used to and forced him stomach down onto his bed.

"Now stay put."

Bryan didn't dare move an inch. Not that he could move much anyway. Mathilda was gone only a few minutes, returning with more oils and clean hands. She started off at Bryan's arms then moved onto his legs. The back of his knees was surprisingly ticklish. Even the faintest little ghost of a touch had him giggling into his pillows. He understandably got a little touchy when she reached the top of his slender thighs, glad he was able to hide the mad crimson blush across his cheeks. It darkened several shades when Mathilda sat on the very bottom of his back, practically on his buttocks, so she could work on his back muscles. With the rear done after half an hour, only the front was left.

Mathilda stood beside the bed and barked at Bryan to roll over like an angry drill sergeant. When he refused to cooperate, she used all of her weight to move him. Bryan went redder than a blushing cheerleader as he watched Mathilda gently seating herself right on top of his unmentionables. Had she done that on purpose? No, surely not. Unless Mathilda had been secretly reading dirty books without his knowledge. She just sat there with the most innocent look on her face, meeting his eyes fearlessly.

Before her hands could get anywhere near his chest, the phone went off. Bryan threw Mathilda off of him quite unceremoniously to go and answer it. The call didn't last long, only a few minutes. Bryan looked like a ghost when he turned around.

"Bryan, what's wrong?" "My boss has summoned me to his office. I don't know what about but it can't be good. Nobody goes in there and comes out with their job in tact."

"I'm coming with you."

"Fine….wait WHAT?!"

Bryan had to do a double take of what Mathilda just said, her face set into a stony frown. She was tagging along and there was nothing he or anybody else could do about it. Well his job was as good as gone now. Bryan threw on the nearest set of clean clothes he could find and was dressed within minutes. Mathilda meanwhile spent what felt like years in the bathroom, leaving it wearing an outfit that had Bryan mentally screaming "What the hell?" As if Mathilda wasn't eccentric enough, she was dressed in a fine crimped white blouse, a long mocha brown skirt that looked heavy and some kind of sleeveless cardigan around her shoulders coloured peach.

"Woman, what the actual hell are you wearing?"

"Do people not normally dress like this?"

"God no. I'm not sure if you've noticed Mathilda, but we're not in the Victorian era. If you really must wear that get up, be warned that we're going to get stared at like we're a couple of weirdoes."

Having wasted enough time getting ready, Mathilda decided not to change into something less…old fashioned. Yet Bryan couldn't deny the clothes she wore suited her. Rather than run his already tired body into the ground, he called for a cab. Mathilda couldn't stop fidgeting beside him, the cabby frequently looking in the rear view mirror.

"There's fancy you look Ms." Purred the driver. "Off to a party this afternoon?"

Bryan gave Mathilda a look that told her to just play along for now, feeling that the gent actually meant no harm.

"Indeed sir. I'm quite looking forward to it."

Bryan had expected Mathilda to reply in her usual meek voice, taken wholly by surprise at the almost regal tones she was able to produce. She even surprised the driver! Luckily the ride didn't take much longer. Not wanting to keep his boss waiting any longer, Bryan hurriedly paid the fare and pulled Mathilda inside. The receptionist pointed them towards an elevator with instructions to push the top button. Just like with the bus a couple of months ago, Mathilda was nervous of the elevator. Bryan warned her she might feel a bit light headed or like her stomach turns upside down, bracing himself against one of the three metal rails inside. To be safe, Mathilda did the same thing.

With a soft ping a few minutes later the elevator reached the top floor. Bryan had never been up this high in the building before, looking out the nearest window. It sure was a long way to the bottom. Soon they were stood in front of marvellous oak doors that held an ominous air in the room beyond. Before Bryan could knock, Mathilda pulled a comb out of her purse to tidy his hair a little, muttering about his already receding hairline giving him a massive forehead. Once Bryan looked more presentable he was permitted to knock on the door. A man's voice beckoned the duo inside shortly after and the doors seemed to open on their own.

The room into which they strode was large, backed by a huge window and furnished with the finest mahogany Bryan had ever seen. Behind the desk sat the most imposing man he'd laid eyes on since his high school principle. Piercing crimson eyes tore holes through the apparent couple, framed by spikes of deep gray hair. He was probably half the size of Spencer and that perhaps is what made him all the more intimidating.

To the left Bryan saw his supervisor; a tall redheaded man with icy blue eyes. His flaming locks spiked out like a pair of horns, two long thin strands framing a sharp, pale face. Without being told, Bryan gave a low bow. Thinking it best to play along for now, Mathilda bobbed a curtsy earning her two very confused stares. Bryan felt his back giving way while returning to an upright position, holding out a hand to stop Mathilda from fussing over him. If there was one thing he knew about the president of Hiwatari Enterprise, it was that he despised weakness in his staff. And that went double for the employees in Bryan's role.

"I came as soon as I could my lord. You…asked to see me?"

The blue eyed supervisor would've ripped Bryan a new one for speaking when not spoken to but the raising of a hand stayed his tongue.

"But Mr. Hiwatari…"

"Silence, Ivanov."

"Yes sir."

Lilac clashed with crimson, neither one yielding unto the other. Bryan's refusal to turn away made Mr. Hiwatari smile.

"Yes Kuznetskov, I did summon you. It has come to my attention that you've been doing a lot of unauthorised overtime this month. I would very much like to know why."

Mathilda frowned. Bryan had been doing extra work of his own volition? He hadn't been forced to do it? Mr. Hiwatari could see Mathilda's confusion, guessing she assumed the worst. Bryan swallowed hard, praying to every God out there that he wasn't about to get fired. And that Mathilda wasn't going to run him over the coals when they got home.

"Well sir, it's because a colleague asked me to. His daughter hasn't been feeling too well recently and requires his attention every hour of the night. I was the only person he could openly turn to but I'm not good with kids, see. So we agreed that until she got better, I'd do his shift on top of mine. That's the full truth of it, sir."

Mr. Hiwatari examined Bryan's face carefully, trying to find any trace of a lie. Mr. Ivanov on the other hand looked through the employee listings to see whose card hadn't been punched in all week. Satisfied that Bryan had indeed told the truth, Mr. Hiwatari turned his attention to his trusted supervisor.

"Well Ivanov? Who's missing?"

"According to the logs, Ian Papov hasn't checked in since last Friday. He wasn't due in last weekend, meaning Mr. Kuznetskov assumed his duties on Monday. Well sir, what would you have me do? I can fire both of them and have two new, reliable janitors hired immediately."

Ivanov moved purposely towards a phone, his fingers brushing the receiver when a coarse voice interrupted him.

"No. You most certainly will not fire this man or his colleague. I'm in control of this company now, not my grandfather. What you will do, Ivanov, is makes sure Mr. Kuznetskov here is adequately compensated for his selfless efforts. And you will be putting Mr. Papov on paid leave until he feels ready to return to work. Is that clear?"

Bryan had thought he'd lose his job for sure, relieved beyond words that he was being praised not punished. Perhaps he'd heard about the former president? He certainly seemed like a ruthless man. Bryan's heart dropped to his stomach like a stone when Mathilda gingerly stepped forward and bowed.

"I believe I owe you an apology, Mr. Hiwatari."

"Do you now? What for?"

"Speculating with no evidence that Mr. Kuznetskov was being forced to work extra hours. He's been ever so tired these last few days and can barely muster the strength to eat."

Now Bryan was sweating nervous bullets. So much for not showing weakness in front of the big cheese. Mr. Hiwatari did not look displeased. In fact, his sharp features seemed to soften a little.

"Well then." He boomed. "It seems that somebody else could use a little paid leave. You get one week, Kuznetskov. And it won't come out of your allotted sick days. Upon returning to work your wages will be increased. Consider it a reward for your selflessness. And ma'am."

Mathilda stood straight as an arrow, not moving her eyes away for even a second.

"I can assure you that none of my employees will ever be forced to do unpaid overtime. You have my word on that. Now unless there's something you need, I believe Mr. Kuznetskov has a vacation to take."

Bryan could not have hoped for a better outcome, silently promising that he would work harder for the increased wage. Once they were out of the extravagant office, Mathilda latched onto Bryan's hand and refused to let go, his face etched with pain. Hitting the streets, she hailed a cab for them and Bryan provided the destination. Mathilda might've gotten used to living with Bryan, but she still didn't know the number or street name of his home. They didn't even get through the door before he collapsed in agony.

Using every ounce of strength she had, Mathilda dragged Bryan to rest on his bed and had to practically force him to take painkillers. Afterward he drifted into a silent sleep. Mathilda stayed by him devotedly, seated on a chair beside the bed. She only left for bathroom trips and to quickly change into something more comfortable. While Bryan slept, she really thought about what he'd said about her outfit for their trip to the office. It was vague, but Mathilda recalled a time where she'd dress like that all the time. But the people here didn't dress the same. Maybe Bryan was right. Perhaps it was time to let go of the past and live for the now.

And there's chapter two. Still debating on who else is going to make an appearance but I can say a villain we all know and love (hate) will be back to cause trouble.

For those who might not know or recall, Frankie was in the first season but I can't recall what team she was on. I just know that she gave Ray a run for her money and deserves a bit more love so I'm giving it to her.

Mathilda sure did dress weirdly didn't she? I wonder why that is? Hang around you might just find out *Wink*