Hiya, guys! Back with another update! Golly, thanks so much for the reviews and favs and alerts everyone! :3 And I'm sorry that this one's kinda late. I had a lot of schoolwork to do. And the next chapter might be a bit late too, since I'm thinking of working on a lot of oneshots and there's also more schoolwork. Agh.

Wow, this is also the longest chapter I've written. xDD They just keep getting longer and longer, don't they? That's what she said.

Oh, and as a heads-up: Emilie=Belgium and Katyusha=Ukraine Just so you don't get confused...

Chapter 3

Katyusha glanced around the annex. Aside from Feliciano alternating from checking his e-mails and bidding on something on eBay, it was empty. She smiled slightly, going over to his desk. There weren't much decorations on it—a few pictures of the snow-capped Rocky Mountains, stickers of snowboarders, and a little Canadian flag in his mug. She giggled; he must have loved his home country.

She placed her small gifts on his desk—pancake mix and a bottle of maple syrup, along with a little note that said, "Would you like to have breakfast with me? :)" She was far too timid to put her name down.

Katyusha never remembered when she started to have feelings for Matthew. He was always so shy, so quiet, just like her. She would say hi to him occasionally, and he would smile at her and say hi back. People always ignored him. In fact, Katyusha thought that she was the only person who knew he existed in this office. Well, her and Alfred, but since Alfred was his half-brother, he didn't really count.

"Kat-a-yusha!"

She jumped and spun around. "F-feliciano!"

He looked over his shoulder, smiling. "I would have never expected to see you around here!" he said bubbly. He was always so happy, unlike his brother whom Katyusha never got along with. "Why are you here?"

"Umm, uhh..." Katyusha was at a loss for words. She definitely, definitely didn't want to tell the truth, but she couldn't think up of an alibi at the moment—

"Did you come to help check some finances with Matthew?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed with quite a bit of enthusiasm. Maybe a bit too much, since Feliciano flinched a little.

"Uh, I mean, yes, yes, I did!" She felt a little bit of a blush creep up her cheeks. "B-but he's not here right now...obviously..." Oh goodness, she just sounded so stupid. "So I'll just leave..."

"You know, I don't think he came into work today. I haven't seen him all day."

"Oh..." Katyusha's shoulders slumped slightly. "Th-that's okay. It wasn't really that important anyways." She turned around to leave, thinking, Oh, this'll never work out..., and walked straight into—

"Matthew!" she exclaimed.

"Katyusha," he said, giving her that smile that made her heart melt. "You're a rare right over here."

"Matthew, you came in today?" asked Feliciano. "How come I haven't seen you?"

Matthew sighed. "Feliciano, I've been here for three hours, and we work right next to each other!"

"Oh...Oh well, back to work." And so Feliciano went back to bidding.

"So," said Matthew, "Katyusha, what brought you over here? Need some help with something?"

"No," she said quickly. "Uhh, I mean, yes, I did, but um, I-I sort of need to—I have a doctor's appointment!"

"Is there something wrong?"

"Noit'sjustaphysical."

"Your face is all red—"

"I have rosacea!" she yelled wildly and ran out of the annex.

Matthew just stood there, blinking and trying to figure out what happened. "That was weird," he said. His mouth opened slightly as he saw the gifts left on his desk, and he sat down.

"Hey...Feliciano," he said, picking up the box of pancake mix. "Do you know who left this here?"

"Huh? The pancakes...? I don't know, it was already here when Katyusha came over."

Matthew took off the Post-It. "'Will you come have breakfast with me?'" he read. "Cute, but I don't know who did this."

"It could be Francis. You know he's always been wanting to go out with you."

"Ahhh, no." Matthew crumpled up the note and threw it in the garbage. "Well, I shouldn't let good pancakes go to waste." He slipped the pancake box and the maple syrup into his suitcase. "Still, Katyusha was acting pretty weird. I hope her rosacea goes away..."

Arthur knocked. "Alfred, may I come in?"

"Sure thing!" He opened the door and ushered Arthur inside.

No matter how many times he had been inside Alfred's office, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the absurdity of it. It was like walking into the room of a comic-book obsessed twelve-year-old. There was an ancient giant poster of the first Superman movie on one wall and a poster of The Dark Knight on the other. Action figures littered his desktop, and a three-foot model of the batmobile laid on top of Alfred's filing cabinet. The only thing normal on his desk was a little American flag, a picture of a smiling seven-year-old Alfred and his grandfather on a sailing boat, and a coffee mug that said, "World's Best Boss". Arthur had given him that mug two years ago on his birthday (or "America's birthday", as he called it), and Alfred had used it nearly every day since.

Alfred sat down in his cozy black armchair. Arthur sat in it once, and he thought that he would fall straight into the cushion.

"So, Artie, what's up?" he asked, locking his hands behind his head.

"Alfred." Arthur sat in the less-than-comfortable swiveling chair. I was just wondering if you've looked over and signed all of the packets. They're due by tomorrow, and they're pretty important."

"What, these things?" Alfred went over to the filing drawer and pulled out a giant stack of papers. He set them on his desk with a small thump. And all of them were unsigned...

"What?" exclaimed Arthur. He stood up and banged his knees on the edge of the table, flopping back into the chair.

"A-alfred! Those are extremely important! If you don't get them signed, corporate will—"

"Eh, corporate-schmorporate," said Alfred, leaning back and grinning. "I'll fill 'em out tomorrow. Besides, I need to practice my signature!"

"...Signature? Alfred, just sign them!"

"Yeah, but Artie, a signature is a reflection of myself! I can't just sign it willy-nilly! It's a work of art!"

"Alfred!"

Just then, the phone started ringing, interrupting their conversation. Alfred picked it up. "Hell-o? Hey!...Yeah, he's here. Why?" The grin faded away, and Alfred covered the speaker. "Arthur, close the door," he said quietly.

Arthur did so, worry starting to prickle in his chest.

Alfred pressed the speaker button as Arthur sat back down.

"Good afternoon, Emilie," said Arthur. "How are you?"

"Fine, but umm, not good for your guys, Arthur. Not good at all."

Emilie De Witte? Herozone's Vice President of Sales? Arthur had only seen her once, and that was when he went over to corporate with Alfred for a conference with all of the other managers. She seemed cheerful enough, but could be a little nosy at times. But this time, she didn't sound the slightest bit happy.

"What seems to be the problem, Em?" asked Alfred, starting to fiddle with the phone cord. "Did we forget to sign something or another?"

"Alfred, no. The thing is, we've been talking and..." She paused. "And, we've been wondering if we can afford to have both a New Haven and a Cambridge branch."

Arthur felt as though his stomach had dropped. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of shutting us down!" exclaimed Alfred.

"Well...yes, we are. You and New Haven are the worst performing branches in the company, and there's no way that we can afford to keep those two—"

"Then, shut down New Haven!" yelled Alfred.

"Alfred, don't yell—" started Arthur, but the other continued.

"Come on! New Haven's just so boring! Did you even hear Mike's speech at the last conference? My God, Emilie! I just wanted to hide under the table; it was just so awful! Besides, we've got Harvard!"

"I don't think that has anything to do with it, Al—"

"Because Harvard is so much freaking better than Yale! And you know it!"

"ALFRED!"

Emilie had screamed over Alfred's yelling, causing the latter to shut his mouth.

"Alfred," she repeated, lowering her voice. "This has nothing to do with how boring Mike is or New Haven is, or the Harvard-Yale rivalry. This all just comes down to numbers."

"B-but, Em..."

"Alfred, that's it! End of discussion. The other executive officers and I will discuss this at our next meeting."

"But—!"

"Good bye!"

And then she hung up.

Arthur and Alfred stared at the phone for a few moments, before Arthur finally spoke.

"Well, that's just great, you git! You probably got us all fired!"

"But then, it turns out that Dr. Crowe is dead too! Twist ending, you get it? I didn't get it at all when I first saw it, but then a friend of mine came by and pointed it out to me? Cool, huh?" chatted Toris, as he poked his own steak nervously.

There were already inside the restaurant and Natalia still wouldn't talk to him. Maybe she just wasn't a talkative girl, or maybe she was just nervous without Ivan around. (Ivan had practically shoved them out of his car and drove away with a really quick, "Bye!" He might've had an emergency; he had looked rather desperate...)

"Anyway, that's just my take on it. You watch any movies?"

Natalia glared at him. "No. I don't spend my time like that." She looked so pretty like that, in a pretty little skirt and blouse with her hair all brushed out and shiny. His heart just melted. He didn't want to come onto her too fast, but he didn't want to isolate her either. To be honest, he had never had much experience with dating, and whenever he went out on a date, it just ended in complete disaster.

"Ohhh, so you're not a movie person? Do you like reading books instead? I love reading books! I really like Harry Potter. Ron's so funny!"

"I don't read fantasy."

"What do you read?"

"Salem's Lot. Carrie. Pet Semetary. You can practically taste the fear and terror in those books."

There were something about the way she said those word that made the hair on the back of Toris' neck stand on edge.

"Eh, I'm not a fan of Stephen King. Too dark."

Natalia blinked.

Another awkward moment of silence. With both of them just staring at each other (well, Natalia still glaring at him). Then, Toris decided to be a little playful with her and leaned across the table to snatch some chicken away from her plate with his fork. Which was probably the wrong move.

Natalia kicked him. Hard. In the ankle. And she was wearing those spiky high-heels.

"Ow!" Toris sat back down, rubbing his ankle with his other foot. God, that was probably the most painful kick someone had dealt him. But he smirked. A little feisty, was she? Well, he could put up with that.

The rest of the dinner passed by without event. His ankle started to throb and he could feel it starting to swell, but he couldn't help but just smile at her.

Afterwards, Natalia called Ivan and he came to pick them up. She slid as far away from Toris as possible as he limped inside.

"So, Toris, Natalia!" Ivan said cheerfully. "How did your little night out go?"

Natalia replied instantly. "It was awful."

"I thought it went pretty well," said Toris. "We both had a great time."

Ivan smiled. "That's excellent, Toris! I'm glad."

Natalia gave Toris a poisonous look from across the car. "I'm not."

"So, how would you like it if you guys go out somewhere else next week?" asked Ivan. "Maybe you two could walk around Boston for a little while. Toris, I trust that you could drive Natalia home, yes? Or I wouldn't mind if you decide to stay with him for the night, Natalia..."

"Brother, how dare you—! With him?" she sputtered, her face going completely white.

"Ivan, that would be amazing!" exclaimed Toris. "Thank you so much! I have no idea how I'm going to repay you for this..."

Ivan smile widened. "Oh, don't worry, Toris. I'll take care of everything..."

Oh good God, Toris had that stupid look on his face again. Feliks sighed in absolute disgust and scribbled down some numbers.

Well, Lizzie had did half her job—she had given Toris the Tour and the awkward-ness between him and Feliks had dissolved. He and Toris had chatted quite a bit during lunch. Feliks did most of the talking though; Toris would just sit there and listen and occasionally put in a comment or two. But he didn't complain, not once. For the most part, Feliks was very happy with their relationship.

But then there was her.

Ever since he had returned from his date with Natalia a few weeks ago, Toris had done nothing but stare at reception with a glassy infatuated look. Well, he worked for a little bit too, but whenever Feliks looked up to look at h—the calender, he would be gazing at Natalia. Feliks knew that look; it was the look he gave to the little boy down the street when he was eight years old. And it normally ended in heartache.

A deliveryman came by reception, holding a bouquet of...oh no he didn't—

"Two dozen roses for Miss Natalia Arlovskaya?"

The office went deathly quiet, and everyone turned to look at reception. Toris grinned from ear to ear.

"That would be me," whispered Natalia, her voice so cold one could sense a drop in temperature. Everyone leaned in to hear her.

The poor deliveryman shuddered at her tone and took a step back. "U-um, these are for you then," he said, placing the roses on her desk.

Natalia stared at them. "Who sent them to me?" she asked.

"U-um, a T-toris L-l-lorinaitis," he replied, continued stepping towards the door. "Y-you know, I have to go. You can forget about s-signing the form. I could...just...you know, that's not really n-necessary." He gave one last shudder before running out the door.

Toris jumped up and ran over to reception, completely unaware of the feeling of imminent doom. "Natalia," he said, taking one of her hands. "Natalia, these two dozen roses are for each day that I've been your boyfriend, and—and they've been the best twenty days of my life. And I love you, so much. And—umm...y-you're beautiful." He went red, very red.

Francis groaned and plugged his ears. These awful words were obviously torturing the Master of Love. Ludwig shook his head in pity. Yong Soo started to giggle. And Elizabeta and Feliks held their heads in their hands. This was just so, so painful. Toris, just stop. Just stop before you humiliate yourself more.

Natalia glowered at him, pure and utter hatred just radiating off of her in waves. In fact, Feliks felt it even though he sat almost a hundred feet away and didn't look at them. He shifted his fingers so that he could see a little.

"No," Natalia said softly, bringing the wastebasket up on the desk.

And then, she took the two dozen roses and tore the petals off and dumped both the petals and the decapitated stems and threw them into the trash. She calmly put the basket back down and went back to work.

Toris just stood there awkwardly and drummed his fingers on the desk. He finally headed back to his seat (ignoring the looks that everyone gave him) and sat back down, defeated. As much as Feliks hate-hated-hated his relationship with Natalia, he couldn't help but pity his poor, poor clueless friend. Despite the fact that she was a complete psychopath, he adored her. A few weeks ago, Feliks would have been more than happy to break them up. But seeing Toris so infatuated and just in love with her, he knew that it would break his heart if that ever happened. So now, Feliks had to sit down, shut up, and watch the coming slaughter.

Yesss…that's pretty much it guys! Um, read and review! Next chapter might be a bit more…explosive and abusive towards Toris. Poor Toris. Oh, and keep in mind that Harvard-Yale rivalry. It might come in handy a bit later~