3- I Bet That You'd Look Good on the Dance Floor
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With the last of the beverages downed and the grease cleared away, the celebratory party had officially ended. The mood clung like a pleasant haze, however, and the haphazard team emerged from their covered tavern and into the crisp spring night in jovial spirits, patting one another on the back and giving one-armed hugs and high-fives on occasion. "This is a little rowdy for two in the morning, non?" Despite his saying so, Francis pulled a small flask from his hip all the same and downed a small sip of his precious wine. "Mon dieu, to have something so small tide me over until tomorrow. It is simply unfair!" "Little comrade should try living with even less, da? Then can call waiting unfair."
"Be quiet the both of you, or you'll wake up half the town." Even Arthur's reprimands had lost their edge, sounding half-hearted enough that Francis simply laughed it off, draining another sip worth of liquid in one fluid motion.
With a full stomach and a mind full of ideas still buzzing fresh in his mind, Alfred was feeling particularly generous. He glanced over his shoulder, carefree smile displayed. "You guys want to crash at my place tonight? It's kind of dangerous being out this late." Dangerous in general, but dangerous for people like them in particular. The patrol units out at that hour were composed of the strictest soldiers one might be unfortunate enough to deal with. Despite that, however, his question was answered almost immediately by a series of headshakes and mutters of 'no'. "Ivan is needing to get back to hotel, da? Would be suspicious if missing too late into the night." His shorter accomplice gave a curt nod of agreement, while Francis gave their unofficial leader a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Maybe some other time, mon frère! There are too many things for me to do tonight, I'm afraid. Too many, too many. Ah, such a busy man I am!"
Slapping the offending hand away, Alfred waved his own free hand in a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't get yourself arrested on molestation charges, okay?" As much as he hated to admit it, Francis was great for public relations, so to say. Losing him would be a pretty hard hit for them all.
"Of course I won't! My prowess is far too great for me to be caught by something as plebian as the law." The man smiled and rubbed at the stubble on his chin, nodding if that was supposed to be the most reassuring thing in the world. Before Alfred had a chance to point out that it would be better if there was no molestation involved in general, the flamboyant man spun around and pointed with his flask-free hand towards a slim but fairly clear alleyway to their left.
"This is our stop," Francis stated, stepping into the mouth of the gap without hesitation. Growing up on the streets did tend to lend itself to one being comfortable with entering dimly lit places, and a good thing that was for him. There was no way to get back to the main street without drawing too much attention, and so the three always came and left their shared hotel by back roads and underground paths. Yao threaded his hands through his hair, pulling it back into a less-messy approximation of his usual ponytail which Ivan then slid a previously pocketed elastic around before turning to fix his scarf. "You know when to meet next, mm?"
"'Course! You all just watch yourselves, okay? You know how strict patrol's gotten lately." With his smile as confident as ever, Alfred gave a small salute towards the trio, watching until the three had become nothing more than indistinguishable retreating shapes.
"You're too trusting, you know." Lowering his hand, the bespectacled blonde turned to face his remaining companion, who looked even more terse than usual. "What?"
In a poor attempt to mask his growing irritation, the elder of the two turned to stride back down the alleyway they had just passed. "That…that thing you just did! I mean, I don't know about you but I for one would most definitely not appreciate those people anywhere near your house." There was a small pause for thought, and then; " …Except Yao, he's fine." Alfred caught up easily, keeping pace with his companion's brisk strides with little effort (which only served to aggravate the other blonde further, though he did fairly well with hiding that portion of it at the very least).
"I would have to be the one to deal with vodka stains on the cushions if I invite Ivan over, not you. It's my house after all, not yours." Though he had intended it to be a joke and spoke it in as light-hearted a manner as he could muster, it seemed to have the reverse of the desired effect on Arthur, who turned to stare at him with such an unreadable expression that Alfred automatically stopped walking as well. A few moments of awkward silence passed, Arthur continuing to stare and Alfred opening and closing his mouth like a floundering fish in an attempt to word what he was thinking. How could he word it properly when they had been having this exact problem for so long, when the barest forms of communication had always been something of an issue for them? Eventually he just sighed, scuffing the toe of his loafer against the cool pavement. "…I thought you were over that already."
At this, Arthur seemed to snap out of whatever strange state of mind he had been in, his posture growing even more rigid. "Right. Right, I am. I am completely over it. It…it's not like it would have ever worked out anyway." Whatever afterglow the celebratory mood had left behind almost completely vanished after that, and Arthur was quick to continue walking in order to escape the oppressing blanket that the atmosphere had become, Alfred trailing along behind him silently. They both knew that was a lie, as loathe as either was to admit it.
They were young, and while young people did stupid things, young rebels did even stupider things. It had just been a fling at first; a late night alcohol-induced hook up between best friends who thought it would be fun, interesting, who knows. It took them both by surprise, but that innocent fling adopted a life of its own, and continued to mature and grow far beyond what either of them had originally expected. Suddenly they were more than best friends, even if their communication skills and maturity were at the same level as they had always been, and suddenly Arthur expected different things from him – things and commitments that he couldn't and wasn't ready to give. It was an upsetting time; they had both been hard-headed, they both had their ideals and their goals, and Alfred was not willing to sacrifice his chance at reforming society for a relationship. And Arthur? Arthur had set his hopes and expectations so high that it hurt, it really hurt, when they came crashing down. 'I need my freedom'. They had both learned ugly, unfortunate lessons about themselves and each other that night, the last night that he shared his house with the short-statured activist. Alfred counted his blessings every day that they had managed to continue their friendship and partnership afterward, awkward moments aside.
"-lfred. Alfred?" Blinking from his momentary trip down the hideous, unkempt side of memory lane, he glanced up and over to the man that had driven him down there in the first place, who was staring at him in a cross between annoyance and concern. "Stop spacing out, you ninny. You're going to run into a pole." A cursory glance told him that they had already reached the underground parking structure.
He used that term loosely, of course. It was really nothing more than an abandoned underground garage. The thick beams of metal stretching from cement ceiling to roof were the only things in the entire space that seemed completely untouched. Everything else from the walls to the abandoned auto parts were riddled with cracks, dust and the occasional bullet hole that spoke of days when people would fight with guns and not concentrated forms of bacteria. Alfred ran his fingers over one that had pierced a part stand, uncaring of the collected rust and somewhat sharp edges. He almost pined for those days – in comparison, fighting with guns had been clean and honorable.
"--OUCH. Bloody electric cars and the damn plugs and they never worked to begin with why would anybody put in more --"
Pulling his fingers back, Alfred glanced over with an amused snort and watched as Arthur tried (and failed miserably) to get his borrowed run down second-hand electric car unhooked from the charging post. The kicking probably didn't help any either, and by the time he finally sat down in defeat, the post was looking more than a little lopsided and his charging cable…
Well, his charging cable had lived a long life at the very least.
"Of all the times for this to happen," he muttered, running a gloved hand through his choppy hair in frustration. Of course his car would be so uncooperative during the peak patrolling hours. He turned to scowl towards the younger bartender who was quick to join him, not even bothering to hide his laughter at that point.
"And how many times have I told you that you need a new plug? I said it was going to break on you any day, didn't I? But nooo, you just had to be stubborn and find out for yourself."
"Oh, sod off! This isn't something to be joking about." He reached out to give his companion a half-playful shove, but decided at the last minute to channel it into another punch directed at the charging post. "You know what happens when people get stuck in abandoned garages in the middle of the night? They die, that's what! The serial killer comes after them!"
Biting back another snort of laughter, he patted Arthur on the shoulder. "Hey, you don't have to worry about that. They only go after the funny guys or the beautiful virgins."
"I will have you know that I'm both hilarious and good-looking, thank you very--"
A soft sound cut the end of his sentence off, and immediately the two were as alert as quickly as they could be. Alfred was standing in an instant and Arthur, who was able to see almost inhumanly well in the dark, was looking around for the source of the noise. "…It sounded like a can falling over, didn't it?" Though he wasn't even speaking in a whisper, Alfred still managed to hear him and gave a small nod, knowing it could be seen.
A minute or two passed in complete, tense silence, neither daring to make a move or sound. A shaky, whispery laugh eventually came from Alfred, who remained in a standing position but seemed to relax somewhat. "How much d'you want to bet that we just had a heart attack over some stray or something? I mean, this kind of situation only happens in the movies."
Right as the last word left his mouth, a blinding red light tore through the protective shadows that the garage offered, lighting up every particle of dust in a harsh, unnatural way. The two froze, staring up the sloping garage floor at the all-too-familiar steel of government vehicles, atop of which were the hideously bright strobe lights. One row of uniform-clad soldiers stood in front, their viRusgun guns at the ready, looking unholy in the dancing red.
"Attention, attention! Code 45-A has been breached! Two civilians in a restricted area, I repeat, two civilians in a restricted area!"
"Shit!" The rest of the formal arrest speech was lost as the two simultaneously rose, legging it for all they were worth towards the end of the garage that was still cloaked in shadows. A warning shot was fired, the electricity from the taser sending a metallic ring through the enclosed space as the charged prongs crashed into a wrench cart and spiraled off into the dark.
"Back alley, 5-A, NOW." Arthur called towards his partner, hurtling himself over a rusting charging post as Alfred slid under the rusted, disassembled chassis of an old green Jeep. Though Alfred confused the small sprawling alleys at times, he knew that one by heart, and yelled an okay before slipping through the mold-dampened crack that left a good three-foot gap between the floor and the back door of the garage. Thank god they both knew every little escape route their side of town had to offer.
It became obvious pretty quickly that the enforcement team following them wasn't one of the notorious ones; within a minute the two bartenders had managed to put a good building of distance between themselves and their pursuers, though the lights from the van still glowed in the near distance like an unpleasant warning, and they had started up the sirens as well. The soft drone sounded more like the deep rusty throat of an unused foghorn rather than the shrill pierce that might be expected. It bounced off of the small alley walls, calling with a melancholic ring after the escaping bartenders.
"I am so glad that wasn't my car," Arthur puffed out, arms and legs still pumping at a speed that almost no one outside of Alfred would expect from him. He winced, patting at his face in an attempt to soothe the wind burn that he was already getting. "Identification would have been an absolute bastard."
Managing a laugh of agreement, the taller eventually slowed long enough to glance around, gain his bearings, and take off in a slightly different direction with Arthur following immediately behind them.
There were plenty of abandoned buildings to choose from in the area that they were in, which was part of the reason that they had chosen to put their headquarters nearby. The only people who could get around easily were the people who knew their way around the back streets, and for all the hype the STOP soldiers got, they could hardly be called street-savvy at all.
Memory served him well, and just as Alfred had expected, a small, worn-out warehouse for an old furniture company lay just ahead. Picking up speed despite the fact that he was certain they were in a fairly safe zone, he practically flew through the gaping window frame, Arthur tumbling in ungracefully after him. The two lay there in silence for a moment, the only sound in the building being the twittering of a pair of birds roosting in the spotted, decaying ceiling and their own erratic breathing.
"That…" Pausing to catch his breath, Arthur sat upright and clapped his hand to the side of his head. "I'm not sure whether to laugh or scream. You have absolutely shit luck."
"Me?" Alfred sat up as well, looking mock-indignant for a second before dissolving into nervous laughter. "I do, don't I." "Obviously. That kind of thing only happens in those ridiculous Western films you love so much."
Another small nervous laugh emitted from the younger of the two, before silence took over for the umpteenth time that night. There were no footsteps there, at least; silence was definitely preferred if the alternative was a van of lunatics with tasers and biochemical weaponry. But no place was safe forever, and especially not at night. Eventually Alfred moved from sitting to standing, brushing the muck and bits of old plaster and cotton fiber strands from his pants. "It'll be better for the both of us if we go back to our places separately." A nod of agreement was given as Arthur pushed himself up as well, pausing for a moment to peer through the grimy, film-covered window of the store. Only a yawning stretch of darkness met him.
"Now, then, while everything's clear." He glanced over towards his younger accomplice after having said that, looking conflicted for a moment before adding on: "Give me a call when you get back to your place, okay?" The request was met with a small but sincere smile. It was reassuring, these displays of worry. It almost, almost, made things seem the way they were before. "Yeah. You too, if you get there first."
One last glance out the window, and the warehouse was empty yet again, Alfred heading towards the East end of town where his house waited for him, and Arthur heading towards the West, where his apartment complex was located.
But life was never easy and Alfred's miserable, miserable luck clung to Arthur like an unwanted security blanket. He had already wound his way through half of the back alleys that would take him to the one leading to his complex when he realised something was amiss.
Slowing his pace to a jog, he looked towards the twinkling, smooth-black sky while he tried to work out what was wrong. He had his proper car keys, he had his ID, he had remembered to lock the bar door. And then his gaze dropped to his two hands.
His two very empty hands.
"Oh bloody hell! The blueprints!" Kicking the nearest garbage bin in a show of frustration, the Brit pushed himself off of it and spun around to head right back in the direction he had been coming from with a frustrated yell.
"Stupid absent-minded git, leaving important papers in a rat trap like that." Muttering the entire way down, he could only be grateful that he had decided to learn parkour at the insistence of Alfred many years ago. Being able to scale those dumpsters and rubbish bins nearly shaved his return time in half, and for that he was extremely grateful. He needed to take as little as time as possible, since his breath had already begun to rise from his mouth in small wisps, curling around his head before dissipating into the night air. It was getting a little too late for even him to be comfortable with, and staying out in the cold was never a good thing.
"Just round this corner to go, and then-" Quick reflexes kicking in before his brain could, he skidded to a stop and nearly flew back a few feet. "…You have got to be kidding me."
As cautiously as possible, he peered around the corner of the brick-edged alley opening, staring out at the familiar outline of that damned warehouse – where the patrol van was currently parked. The gleaming red lights flashed off of innumerable masks and guns. Nobody had gone inside, by the looks of things, but the entire perimeter was entirely surrounded.
"Again, something you would only see in a movie." Pressing both hands against his face, he spun on his heel and slumped against the wall, sliding down despite the resistance his thick wool jacket made against the rough brick. "This night could not possibly get any worse."
His wry laugh never made it from his mouth, stifled instead by the hand he hadn't noticed reaching for him from behind.
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a/n: aughhh sorry about the super late chapter, guys. School has been killing me and on top of that I've had the most massive …everything block. I figured it'd be best to just try and wait out the worst of it than to rush through it and bring you all a sub-par chapter, so thank you for bearing with me!