Chapter 3: Abendessen

"Triela, for the love of all things holy, you are going to wear a dress to your date."

"Claes...but I look good in a suit and..."

"No ifs, ands, or buts. I'll make sure that 'Etta and Rico won't cover you either. The dress and us come as a package. I will not have our princess shame our name. Heaven forbid."

"Claes..."

"Don't even try the whine you use with Hilshire. You may have gotten him to be docile and tamed, but I, for one, am not willing to bend on this issue."

Triela sulked horribly as she donned the dress that her friends had picked out, after hours of discussion on a fashion magazine. Apparently, they had even used some of their disposable budget to requisition said dress, and now, they were forcing it on the girl who had won the date in the first place. Triela was annoyed that her instincts had gotten the better of her, and she regretted asking her friends to provide armed cover for her, just in case the date was a set up. That, and they got to giggle and laugh at her the entire night. This could end only badly for her, now that she thought about it, short of Jan being completely amazing. Considering he was an assassin, that seemed oddly unlikely. Her thoughts were brought abruptly to a close as she stood before a mirror in her new dress. It was long, reaching to her ankles, but the slits down the side allowed for free mobility. Form fitting, it left little to the imagination, and as she walked out to the car that was taking her group into Rome, she heard Jose let out a low whistle. She shot him a nasty look.

As the car took the short drive to downtown Rome, Triela ran over all the protocols that had been established for the mission, and, unfortunately, was given some "required" reading. An issue of some silly teen magazine on "how to make a great first impression to that hottie." Triela wondered whether her friends were really friends. Finally, mercifully, she broke off towards Trevy Fountain, as her friends took their positions to give supporting fire if need be. Lost in her thoughts, she wandered into the plaza, looking for Jan's face. Not finding him immediately, she sat down on the edge of the fountain, waiting for her date to arrive.

After a scant few minutes, her wire crackled with a call of "Nice catch." from Claes. "He'll find you right where you are. Triela, all that's left is to stand there and be pretty, and the game will be afoot."

Triela grumbled. Claes was having altogether too much fun with this. Triela resolved to have her vengeance whenever (if the day came) Claes ever was smitten with love. Nasty thoughts running through her head, she looked up, and before her, stood Jan, sharply dressed in slacks and a loose dress shirt, holding before him a bouquet of flowers. Triela stood up, as though to ask "well?" Jan, taking no note, responded "Milady, some flowers to add to your already prodigious beauty?"

Triela snorted. "Flowery speech never got anyone anywhere with me. The flowers, on the other hand, are appreciated. Thank you."

"So, um, not too good with this, but, nice dress? I...like it a lot."

Triela's radio came alive with a chorus of girlish squeals. Claes' "I told you so," practically oozed the satisfaction that must have dominated her face. Jan's jaw opened up, as though to ask about the radio outburst. Before Jan could ask questions, she answered quickly. "I came with protection. Just in case this was a setup. They're...a little bit easily stimulated. And, um, you look good too."

Triela heard the same crackle that had exploded in her ear. "And I'm going to guess that's your buddies telling you to 'get it on,' right?"

Jan shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Guilty as charged. By the way, you do know that we actually work for the same people, y'know. Like, me and my pals, we're the international versions of you guys. Some guy from Section II was over yesterday."

"That's nice to know. I can not shoot you. So, where's dinner."

"Well, there was this visitor at HQ, Hilshire, and he recommended this small cafe a short ways from here. It's a short ways from this really scenic walk, too," offered Jan, while at the same time offering his hand.

Hilshire. The cafe she had wanted to go to for freaking ever. Had he found out and skived off that duty onto this poor kid? Not. Likely. But then again, it was okay. She got what she wanted, and that was what mattered, here. Taking Jan's hand, she replied "I'd love to eat there."

Claes watched as the date unfolded. Much to her surprise, after the initial shock, the two assassins were locked in deep conversation over a dinner of light pasta. Even more surprising was that each had turned off their wire, as though to show an implicit level of trust in one another, and faith in their friends to react appropriately. Relaxing for a moment, now that she knew that there were other people in the area watching the couple (Claes paused for a moment–was it safe to call those two a couple yet? A quick glance saw Jan sliding his hand over Triela's shoulder, and Triela not breaking said hand off, but instead nestling herself into the man. Couple it was.), she began searching for them. A few minutes later, as she moved her position to continue covering Triela as she went on her romantic little walk (This was something that Claes had never thought would come to pass, but she'd be damned if it wasn't the cutest thing she'd seen in quite some time), she found their radio channel, and hacked in. "Excused me," were her first words on the network, "but don't those two lovebirds look adorable together?"

After a few moments of swearing and chewing out the "Marcus," who had set up the network, apparently, Claes received the replied. "Are one of the princesses? Just asking..."

"Princess? Yeah, but back home, I'm bit more of a queen bee."

"Fine, fine, you've probably got a gun trained on Jan. Whatever. So, since I get the oddest feeling that we're going to be doing this again when I look at your blonde seducing our poor Jan, what's a name we can give you?"

"Marcus is one of you, right? I guess I'll trade a name for a name. Claes."

"Claes, might I suggest then, that you look overly excited tonight. The glasses are a nice touch, too."

Without flinching, Claes whispered into the girls' channel "Ange, did you find the boys?"

Angelica replied with her usual professionalism "Yes. I've got three bogies. One's got a scope on you right now, but I think that's more for the scope. His aim is all wrong, and he had it right before."

"What's he wearing? Or something distinctive about him?"

"Well, his hat is for the American baseball team the Yankees."

"Thanks." Cutting back into the boy's channel, Claes shot back, "And I like the Red Sox, you god damn Yankees fan."

"Name's Cristian, and for the love of god, we aren't the evil empire, just better than everyone else. Who's your source, I know you weren't looking at me."

"I've got people."

"Claes, I like your style. We need to work together some time."

Triela felt drowzy. She absentmindedly checked her watch. It was shortly past eleven. Turning to her date (who she had found she rather liked–by which she meant was now completely "in love" with), she smiled, and Jan, noticing her tiredness, sate them down at a bench. As Triela yawned, she marked "I'm really glad that you pestered me. This was a lot of fun."

"That's no one's fault but your own for being so good looking. Though, I'll be the first to admit there's so much more about you to like..."

Jan noticed Triela had dozed off on his shoulder. Turning his wire back on, he gently nudged Triela to wake her up. "You need to head back. Sleep helps with beauty, you know."

"Thanks." Standing up, and then stretching out, Triela turned on her radio, and asked for everyone to get ready to leave. A chaste peck on the cheek goodnight, and then Jan and Triela went their seperate ways.

At midnight, the girls returned. Hilshire was waiting for them.