Hellooooooo!
Love you all so much, you and your wonderful reviews :D Sorry if I haven't responded to you yet . I've been crazy busy, and getting this chapter out itself was a trial…but I wanted you guys to know you all are so amazing and encouraging and this story is for you, my reviewers!
P.S. This chapter was a plot bunny that inspired me write this entire story, so…if you were wondering how it all got started…this is why.
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Blossom glared at him with fury unmatched by anything hell had to offer. Coolly, Brick glanced up at her seething form, shrugged, and flopped stylishly into a low armchair by the window-front of the store.
"You. Have. Got. To be KIDDING me!" Blossom snarled through her teeth at the boy, who affected a bored air, casually avoiding her eyes as he flicked a piece of lint from his chair.
"Nope. And arguing will be a lost cause with the lack of bargaining chips you have. So, run along," he flicked his hand towards the dressing rooms, motioning for her to hurry up and get over there.
Blossom inhaled deeply through her nose, gave him one last stormy look, and stomped away, her arms full of ruffling ball gowns of varying colors and styles.
He has got some nerve… Blossom fumed to herself as she roughly yanked the curtain around the small area. Swiftly, and still not believing herself for going through with this degrading, humiliating act, she tore off her street clothes and slipped into a one of the gowns: a white, strapless, knee length dress with a few glossy pearls adorning the neckline.
The redhead turned to examine herself in the full length mirror propped in the corner. It looked okay, she had to admit, but more for a wedding, not Mafia party material, at least in her opinion.
Not that hers mattered at the moment. Because Brick was so pig-headed and rude as to declare he had to approve her attire, because he was the high and almighty CIA/Mafia self-proclaimed lord of formal wear. Hmph. She didn't need undercover experience to pick out a fancy dress!
Setting her mouth in a grim line of defiance, she pulled back the curtain and approached her counterpart, bare feet soundless against the plush carpet of the high-end Italian designer store.
Brick swept his eyes over her before twirling his finger in the air for her to spin. Blossom gave him a glare that would make small children cry, but complied. The other redhead shook his head slowly.
"No, I don't think so, you're not a bridesmaid."
"I know! That's what I thought, so can't I just pick out my own dress if I know what to get?"
"No, I can't have you showing up in some ridiculous pink tutu, so just hurry up and try on the others, okay?"
Ugh, remain calm, remain calm…
"There's nothing wrong with pink," she huffed quietly as returned to the little room.
"Yes, there is. It's not a great color for our group," Brick called after her. Damn super hearing.
The next gown was long sleeved, dark purple, with a modest neckline and a flowing skirt. Blossom frowned at her reflection, remembering that Buttercup looked great in this color…but Buttercup always preferred green, and would never have been caught dead in a dress…
Blossom blinked quickly, trying not to let her mind linger to long over her sisters. She didn't have time for distractions like homesickness. Better to focus on her relentless hatred of Brick for everything he had ever put her through…
After a 360 view, Brick shook his head once again before throwing his legs over one arm of his chair and leaning his head against the back of the other.
"Nah. Too…nah."
Blossom rolled her eyes and headed back. Did he fancy himself a fashion judge or what? Ten minutes later, a forest green and a royal blue gown shot down, Blossom had about had it with her partner. She wasn't going to model dresses for him all evening! Already, the giant orange sun was sinking towards the warm waters of the Mediterranean, flooding the westward facing store with warm golden light.
For the fifth time, Blossom stepped out in a new gown. This was a blood red, curve hugging dress that slacked at the hip into an full length skirt with a long slit running all the way up her upper thigh. A tad self consciously, the generally modest puff tugged a little at the deep v-neck.
Good grief, this looks like a Miss Scarlet dress from that game "Clue"…all I need is a cigarette holder…
Brick cocked his head to the side as he examined the latest fashion statement, the dying light of the sun making his flaming red hair glow. He pursed his lips, adopting a meditative gaze.
Blossom crossed her bare arms impatiently, tired of being his little dress-up Barbie.
"And…"
"It'll do. Get changed, let's pay."
Without another word he popped out of his chair and strolled languidly over to the counter.
Of course he would choose the red devil dress. What else did I expect?
They paid quickly and left, with only Brick exchanging a few words with the clerk as he bagged their purchase.
Blossom could pick up on a few phrases, but only because it was similar enough to French, which she did speak. Bubbles had always had the knack for languages…she had just been born with Spanish, and she breezed through any other language she encountered with natural ability…but that hadn't stopped the pink puff from breaking her back to learn French. For a brief second, Blossom wondered if Boomer shared her 'younger' sister's inborn talent for languages…
There she went again, thinking of home. Focus, Girl…
The Reds exited and began to stroll down the wide sidewalks of the exclusive Sicilian beach town, and all the while Blossom maintained a seething glare for her counterpart, holding a grudge from his bossiness in the store. Brick kept his complacent brown eyes on the sky, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, blatantly ignoring her.
But after a minute or so, he broke the stillness between them.
"Smile, will ya please? We gotta fake the couple act while we are here. No way we can pass as just buddies if we go dress shopping together," he commented softly, still gazing serenely at the setting sun.
Blossom's glower twisted into a half-sneer.
"No need for that until tomorrow night. For now we'll just say you're my gay best friend."
Brick snapped his head around to glower, but she just smiled sweetly.
Ah, revenge…
The teenaged boy huffed a little and the two continued to amble slowly and in frigid silence back towards their hotel. They were about a block away when Brick abruptly braked in front of a little bakery, which was about to close for the night. Blossom also stopped and gave him a questioning look. He shrugged and gestured inside.
"I'm hungry…" he admitted.
"Fine."
They bought the baker's last two rolls before he hurried them out so he could lock up and go home. Now eating their dinner, the two meandered back, but before parting at their respective doors, Brick once again spoke up.
"Ah, shoes. I'm pretty sure you don't have shoes?"
Blossom eternally cursed herself. She was the girl, shouldn't she remember these things?
"Uh, no, I don't. I can get them tomorrow."
Brick nodded and turned to open his door with his key card.
"Fine. We'll meet here at 5:30."
Blossom paused, her door already open with one foot inside.
"That early?"
Brick, who had already disappeared into his room stopped the door from closing and stuck his head back out.
"First, we have to drive. And dinner's at around 7:00 ish."
She nodded and the two stepped into their rooms and closed the doors without a good bye or good night.
Blossom slept in the next morning, or at least by mission standards. She didn't get out of bed until 9:00 and didn't leave her room until 10:00. But, hey, who could stop her? Her "date" with Brick was at 4:30, and they had been working around the clock for five days now. A girl deserved her rest.
This hotel was on the nicer side and came with a complimentary breakfast in the lobby. She was tempted by the cinnamon rolls, but to her displeasure, weren't as tasty as the smelled, so she also downed some toast and strong Italian roast coffee. Generally, Blossom wasn't a coffee person, but when in Rome, do as the Romans do…
They had skipped Rome, Blossom mused unhappily. First time in Europe and she couldn't see any of her favorite historical sights…But, then again, when she had planned to go Europe, she hadn't bargained for a covert government assignment to save the world…
She finally snapped herself out of her thoughts, threw away her empty paper plates, and strolled confidently out of the hotel doors at 10:20, before coming to an abrupt halt right outside the revolving doors – money. She could buy no shoes with no money. Especially in Europe, where prices where so high…
Damn it! How did we both forget about money? We're supposed to be the responsible, eldest ones, the leaders! Argh, now I'll have to find him…what if he's not in his room? He could be anywhere!
With a sigh of exasperation, Blossom turned on her heel and walked back in, ignoring the few looks she got for her out-and-back-in routine with the spinning doors.
A soft ping announced the elevators arrival back to the second floor. Blossom trooped past a multitude of doors until arriving at her and Brick's adjacent rooms. Without much hesitation, she rapped twice on the wooden barrier.
No answer.
After a few seconds of silence, she knocked again, still to receive the same – no response. Blossom pursed her lips and let out a slow breath threw her nose. Life just hated her, didn't it?
Very slowly, she turned back around, lost in thought, staring at the décor-less white wall on the other side. Now where to?
At that exact moment, the door next to her opened. Her door. To her room. Startled, Blossom faced the exiting figure to see that it was –
"Brick?"
Said chemical X-being looked up, brown eyes wide. For a spilt moment, they stayed that way, staring blankly into each other's fake eyes, processing two different items of information, before exploding.
"Why were you in my room? How'd you get in there?"
"Have you lost your senses?"
As Brick spoke, he crossed the few feet between them, wrapped his long fingers around her wrist and yanked her back into her room, the door slamming shut behind them with a large whoosh of air.
With a jerk, the puff freed herself from his grip but he continued to observe her, incredulous and disgusted.
"Of all places, here?" he growled in a low voice, clasping his forehead and bangs in disbelief, "You chose, here to up and scream my name? We can only hope that no old time locals were around to hear you! Some of the more knowledgeable can connect my name with the family!"
Momentarily, Blossom was distracted from her distraught thoughts of Brick in her room. Oh shit! Oh, man, this is not my day… But after a moment's reflection, the redhead managed to look past this unfortunate detail and refocused on her righteous indignation.
"The hallway was empty. This is a hotel for tourists. Take a chill pill, and don't worry, I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
Brick bristled at her breezy blow-by of her identity slip, but Blossom didn't miss a beat as she continued her rant.
"But, you, sir," she taunted, sarcasm drenching the word, "should probably explain why you just happened to be in my room! You don't even have a key!"
Her counterpart was still clearly upset at her for shrieking his name in the hall, but now cockily shrugged at this accusation.
"Hey, they don't make you a secret agent for nothing: who needs keys?"
Blossom opened her mouth to retort as to how this gave him no excuse to invade her privacy, but he cut her off.
"AND, as I was about to say before you went and broke all the rules about being undercover, ahem," he resumed a glare, "I was looking for you. To give you this."
He quickly produced out of his back pocket the slip of plastic they had been living off for the past week: the limitless credit card. The pink puff took if from his outstretched hand, finally remembering her original reason to look for Brick.
"Ah, oh," she stuttered for a second. Her male partner of course noticed of her brief distraction, but even as the mocking sneer began to form on his lips, she resumed her anger, but not before she had hastily tucked the card into her front pocket.
"But!" she continued, "No sneaking in my room! That's inexcusable! What if – what if I HAD been there, doing God knows what?"
Brick's half formed smirk broke out into a full-blown evil grin.
"Blossom, just what do you do in your room?'
"You sicko! What's your problem? Get out of here!"
Furious, Blossom shoved his shoulder out the door, gritting her teeth in anger. Brick snorted in laughter at her response, but didn't resist as he stumbled out. She slammed the door behind him, fuming.
But, now she was trapped in her room. For the moment. She waited, ear to the door, listening to Brick shuffle away, still sniggering. Jerk. Twisting her words like that.
1, 2, 3, 4…she held her breath. No more footsteps, even using her super hearing. Deeming the coast clear, she stepped out of her room for the second time that day. To her relief, Brick was no where to be seen, and she continued on her morning's mini mission to buy shoes for that evening.
A few hours later found the redheaded teen examining herself in a mirror, once again in her hotel room. She had already donned the sleek red dress and was turning at odd angles to glare at the amount of creamy pale skin she was showing. (Damn you, Brick, you are such a guy!) Her brand new, three inch heels matched the shade of her dress, and her hair was piled in an elegant half bun with several curled strands hanging loose and framing her face. She wore minimal makeup and her icy blue contacts. With a final glare at her primped reflection, Blossom sighed and relaxed on the edge of her bed, swinging her long legs off the edge. In a few short minutes, she'd grab her neatly packed bag, which was waiting by the door, and join Brick on their way out to the car. But for now, she could relax and mentally prepare herself for this evening's…activities.
Two loud knocks on the door shattered her train of thought.
A little startled, she stood up as quickly as her blasted heels would allow and went to answer it, already knowing who it would be. Indeed, Brick stood in front of her room. For a second, neither spoke, just absorbed the other's get-up.
He was wearing a jet black tuxedo, which made for some reason amused her more than it should. The coat was carelessly unbuttoned, revealing his untucked white dress shirt and slightly loosened dark red tie, which matched the shade of her dress. His hands were shoved languidly into his pants pockets, a frozen mask of blankness on his face, his ever-present cap (insert Blossom's mental eye roll), and…
The puff blinked as she met his blood red stare, completely distracted by his intense irises. She hadn't seen his eyes in…a week. For an extra moment, they maintained a steady staring contest, before Blossom began to speak.
"Why aren't you – "
"Take yours off," he stated evenly, still not removing his brilliant red eyes from her face.
"But – "
"Tonight, we are ourselves. No hiding in the family."
Finally, Blossom managed to rip her gaze from his intoxicating glare and abandoned him in the doorway to pluck her colored lenses from her eyes and place them in the little protective container. Her companion stopped the door from slamming in his face with his hand, waiting silently for her to return.
She did, bright pink eyes visible. Brick nodded shortly and turned to leave, but, still wondering, Blossom stopped him with her voice.
"But the people in the lobby?"
"We're not coming back here," he reminded her.
Blossom scooped up her worn pink backpack, a bizarre accompaniment for her current outfit, and took off after her already retreating counterpart, his black pack in hand as well. Her mouth twitched as she stared at the back of his head, fed up with his grumpy, mysterious air.
"What's with the hat? Tell me you aren't going to wear that ratty thing with a tux."
Brick swiveled on his heel, facing her while walking backwards down the deserted hallway, and tugged defensively on said hat, his face contorted grumpily.
"That hat stays. What excuse do you have for the bow?"
Blossom's pink eyes narrowed in irritation, and she reached up to touch the small, velvet bow which fastened her copper hair on the top of her head.
"Bow's can be classy. And I was born with it…it feels wrong without it."
Brick once again swung on his heel to face the direction he was moving.
"What, you think I wasn't born with mine? You thought I had time to accessorize before running off to beat you to a pulp?"
He threw a wicked grin over his shoulder before mashing the elevator button. Blossom felt her hackles rise and a dark look swept over her countenance. She arrived next to him in a few steps and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Let's not forget who won that battle, though?"
Brick's glee melted and he fixed her with displeased look. A pause of glares occurred before he responded.
"Pfft."
His hand drifted up to his face, unconsciously rubbing at his cheek, as if he still felt the scalding burn.
Blossom smirked a little and turned away as the elevator doors slid open with a ping. They descended in contemplative silence, before they strutted out of the lobby in style to the white sports car. They tossed their bags in the back and piled into the car in their customary positions: Brick, driver's seat. Blossom, shotgun.
"'Bout an hour and a half drive to the mansion," he mumbled as the smooth motor purred to life. Blossom instantaneously did the math in her head. They would arrive around 6:00. She nodded and crossed her legs, propping her face up on her chin and staring out the window.
Blossom spoke back up, a question that had been buzzing in the back of her mind finally having a chance to resurface. Even if he refused to answer, quarreling with him would keep her occupied.
"How do both the CIA and the Mafia tolerate you as a duel member?"
"None of your business," snapped said dual member.
"I should think it is, especially if you want me to act correctly tonight and not blow whatever fairytale you're selling," Blossom huffed.
Brick sighed, exasperated.
"You're not going to let this drop, are you?"
She shook her head defiantly.
"Nope."
The redhead removed one hand from the steering wheel to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. If you insist, you highness," he grimaced, "I originally went in with the CIA as a double agent. But of course, secrets like that don't last long in the 'family.' So the Mafia think that the CIA think that I am a double agent that is actually a triple agent, a.k.a., loyal to the 'family.' While the CIA know that, in reality, I'm a…quadruple agent I guess…complicated enough for you, Pinky?"
Blossom literally had to sit in silence for a few seconds, picking apart his words to understand what he meant.
"So…you pretend to the Mafia that your true loyalty is to them, and that you are a double agent for the 'family'?"
"Yes."
"But actually, you work for the CIA as a double agent."
"Yes.
"What a headache."
Brick didn't bother responding, and Blossom assumed it was because he secretly agreed with her.
Time passed. They continued to hug the coast of Sicily as Brick drove south. The gorgeous beaches and cliffs were absolute stunning to watch in the warm, late afternoon sun, but after an hour, the enchanting scenery no longer kept her attention.
She shifted in her seat to face forwards once again. Brick didn't spare her a glance, dark crimson eyes set on the winding road ahead. Discreetly, Blossom observed him with a sidelong glance. Seeing his eyes again…made her feel bizarre. She shouldn't care so much. What did it matter to her?
Why did it? Why did she feel lied to every time she saw him with brown orbs? It wasn't that she found brown eyes to be unattractive…especially the shade her counterpart sported, a light golden brown hazel.
But it just wasn't him; wasn't his true colors. And it irritated her. His bloody gaze revealed Brick as he exactly was – strong, dangerous, one-of-a-kind…and perhaps a bit alluring. The fire in his eyes drew stares and kept them, including his disgruntled counterpart's. There was no denying the passion, the intensity, the rage he truly felt, and all these were exposed in his unique, enthralling eye shade.
Finally realizing that she had just had an entire stupid mental rant in her head about Brick's stupid eyes, and that she had been staring stupidly the whole time, she had the decency to turn away and meditate on her stupidity.
Stupid Brick. Just keep your stupid face to yourself.
By the time they reached their destination though, she had gotten over her self humiliation and was all eyes for the magnificent building Brick parked in front of as if he lived there.
It was a towering fortress of a mansion, clinging to the edge of sheer cliff overlooking the ocean, large frothing waves pounding against the bare rock. A large archway led into an open air courtyard with strings of paper lanterns floating in the breeze above the well-manicured grass, tiny shrubs, and trailing pathways. A single tower with several windows faced the sea and the west ward sinking sun, which was again about ready to slip past the waters.
To the pink puff's mild surprise, Brick actually opened her car door for her. Blossom hopped daintily out, secretly pleased with herself for not tripping yet in her heels. She'd never had any good practice in Townsville, not being the type for such frivolous shoes.
As she stepped out, Brick held out his arm, and, flinching inwardly, she complied by linking arms. They exchanged an empty look, and Blossom took note that he was still taller than her, despite the shoes.
She half-gulped, knowing that she was only noticing such odd facts because…she was nervous. This was, after all, the infamous Sicilian Mafia, who kill as easily as they breathe. Not that that was really a problem for a super-powered being, but the legendary, reckless slaughter remained intimidating and uncomfortable.
Somehow, Brick realized her discomfort, and, for a reason unknown to her, decided to actually comfort her instead of growling to not mess up.
"It'll be okay," he murmured softly before leading them through the courtyard up to a set of huge, wooden doors which were already propped open and spilling out warm light and gentle chatter.
As the pair arrived at the open frame, they were met with the sight of a gargantuan stone room, lit by a giant chandler suspended from the ceiling. Couches formed a few sitting circles where a variety of well-dressed persons perched and conversed. Large paintings and tapestries covered the walls at regular intervals, a wide staircase in the back center of the room led up to an indoor balcony that circled, giving the few individuals who strolled up there the perfect bird's eye view
Pink eyes wide, a fake smirk of calm confidence pasted over her mouth, Blossom took in the lavish room with her heart pounding a bit faster than normal. Brick gave her arm the slightest of squeezes, but didn't make eye contact.
A few groups looked up at their entrance, many smiling broadly and calling out cheerful greetings to Brick, who waved back with a grin. A well-groomed man in a neat suit stood up quickly and hurried over to greet them, also smiling broadly. As he approached, Blossom could see the grey steaks in his long, slick black hair, and how his warm black eyes were surrounded by smile lines.
"Ahh, Brick, buona sera! Il mio amico, è stato troppo a lungo!" the man crowed, and Brick momentarily released his hold on Blossom to give the shorter man a firm handshake and a one-armed man hug.
("Ahh Brick, good evening! My friend, it has been too long!")
Brick stepped out of the embrace, still sporting a smile, which felt a bit out of place for Blossom, as when she was usually with him, they were irritating each other. The redheaded teen placed a hand on the older male's shoulder and wrapped the other around Blossom's. Bizarrely, this both made her feel more secure in this strange place and piss her off at how Brick was touching her so casually.
She didn't have to reflect on her mixed emotions, because she had to concentrate fully to even get an idea of what Brick was now saying.
"Buona sera a voi anche, Signor Ghirlandaio! Troppo lunga davvero. Ma lasciate che vi presento Blossom Utoniam. Sono sicuro che avete sentito su di lei. Era, diciamo, il modello Mojo nella creazione di me," Brick now tightened his grip a bit around her shoulders, tossing her too a smile, "Abbiamo recentemente…mettere da parte i nostri rivalità del passato."
("Good evening to you too, Mr Ghirlandaio! Too long indeed. But let me introduce you to Blossom Utoniam. I'm sure you've heard about her. She was, let's say, Mojo's model in originally creating me." "We've recently…put aside out past rivalry.")
Blossom smiled sweetly at the man, only understanding that this was Signor Ghirlandaio, that Brick had introduced her, and something about Mojo.
So, she was grateful when Signor Ghirlandaio turned to her with the same warm smile and began to speak in perfect English, with a gentle, lilting accent that was pleasing to hear.
"But of course, I know you, Ms. Utoniam! Your powers, skills in battle, and intellect are most famous, as are your sisters! And we are all most glad to have you in our company this evening with Signor Brick."
With this enthusiastic welcome, he gently took her hand in his, before placing two quick kisses to both of the puff's checks. Blossom smiled in return, recognizing the gesture as one of acceptance and friendship in most European countries.
"Thank you very much, Signor Ghirlandaio, your words are too kind, as is your gracious welcome to your family's home."
Apparently she had said something right because Signor Ghirlandaio's face brightened even more (if that was possible) and chuckled.
"She's as beautiful and smart as you say, Signor Brick. I would hold on tight to this gem of a girl!"
Brick chuckled in agreement along with his 'family' friend, but Blossom could just barely pick out the embarrassed twinge in his face. It was all she could do to keep from laughing at her counterpart.
Not only had he previously spoken about her, he had complimented her behind her back…and a teeny part of Blossom couldn't help but feel flattered at Brick and Signor Ghirlandaio's attention. Even if one was the most obnoxious, rude, arrogant boy she'd ever had the misfortune to meet and the other was a murderous criminal.
Suddenly, she felt less flattered.
"Ah, but you must join the rest of my family, we will be having dinner soon! If you excuse me for the moment, I have some matters to attend to…"
Signor Ghirlandaio's smile was apologetic and sincere, but Blossom couldn't help but wonder what dark and corrupted matters he was referring to.
The fake couple nodded and assured the Italian that they were capable by themselves. He apologized once more at his abrupt departure and walked quickly down one of the hallways leading away to a more shadowy part of the house.
Brick's smile deflated a little and gave Blossom a discreet, but odd look of mild annoyance and relief.
"I wasn't sure he was even going to be here; he's often busy. Signor Ghirlandaio is the head of the family, and has been for quite a while. At least by family standards. You've pleased him, so that's very good," he murmured as they wandered away.
Blossom blinked, a little caught off guard.
"The head? As in top of the heap? But…he was so…"
"Kind? Warm? Welcoming? Yes. But don't be thrown off by appearances, the man is capable of much…"
The way Brick trailed off made Blossom's insides tighten into a knot. Behind his mask of easy going happiness, she could spot dark experience and painful memories lurking. Not for the first time, she found herself wondering what Brick's deal with the Mafia was…but she had more than a sneaking suspicion that the warm comradery she had seen shown to Brick was pretty one sided. Deep down inside, she thought Brick secretly hated every second they were spending here…
But that was none of her concern. His personal suffering for the good of his assigned missions was not important at the moment, or to her. Right now, she needed to focus on behaving correctly in this shark tank of dangerous characters.
Brick led them to a man and a woman who were standing a few feet away, talking. He first greeted the both of them – a hand shake for the twenty something man, and a kiss on the hand for the gorgeous brunette girl in a shimmering black dress, who smiled slightly in response.
The redheaded teen exchanged a few words in Italian with the two, and although Blossom didn't understand much, she definitely noticed the difference in how he spoke friendlily to the good-looking man, and carefully to the young woman. He then introduced her again, and the focus was on her.
"But, yes, Ms. Utoniam!" the raven haired man exclaimed in English with a dazzling smile before planting two kisses on her checks, "I'm Giovanni Ghirlandaio, you have just met my uncle! It is a pleasure to meet you."
His accent also had a soothing lilt.
"Oh no, the pleasure is all mine, Signor Ghirlandaio," she responded smoothly, once again covering her nervousness with a large smile.
The criminal lord's nephew scoffed lightly and waved one hand in protest.
"Please, no, Ms. Utoniam, Signor Ghirlandaio is my uncle. My friends call me Giovanni, and you must also!"
Blossom chuckled softly.
"Oh, all right," she agreed, "If you call me Blossom."
He flashed her a set of pearly teeth.
"Deal, Blossom."
Here, the young woman interrupted them. But when she spoke, she smiled neither with her eyes or her mouth as the two previous Mafia members had consistently done. And, startlingly, her accent was not Italian, but Russian.
"Blossom Utonium. I see." she drawled, limply holding up a hand to shake. The two girls applied gentle pressure to the other's hand before dropping them.
"I am Vivia Dreeshaw."
That was it. No explanation, no greeting, no smile. Blossom managed to keep the corners of her mouth angled upwards to avoid seeming rude, even if the other was intent on making her feel uncomfortable.
"Nice to meet you," she managed, before, thanks be, Giovanni saved them from a staring contest.
"So, Blossom," he interjected smoothly, "Your normal residency is Townsville, correct?"
Grateful to return her attention to the pleasant Ghirlandaio, Blossom nodded.
"Yes."
"So, may I ask what brings you to Europe? Pleasure or work?"
Oh, shiiii…uh, which does Brick want me to say?
But, once again, she was saved by an interruption. Brick stepped back forward, protectively wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her a bit closer. The puff's insides squirmed with rage and discomfort, but her gracious half-smile never faltered.
"A bit of both actually. I'm sure you understand," Brick chuckled and Giovanni nodded knowingly.
"But yes, it is hard to have just one or the other, no?"
Blossom glanced again at Vivia Dreeshaw, and, to her disturbance, found the other female glaring holes through her. She quickly averted her eyes and instead focused on Giovanni's cute accent and Brick's aggravating arm.
"Yes," Brick agreed musingly, before the conversation was broken by the ringing of a little bell. Everyone in looked up to the top of the stairs, where a butler stood with the still tinkling instrument behind Signor Ghirlandaio, who was beaming down on his empire below.
"Miei amici, mia famiglia: mangeremo?"
("My friends, my family: shall we dine?")
This, Blossom understood, and they moved along with the rest of the minglers who were slowly ascending the wide, graceful staircase which led up to their leader, and, apparently, the dining hall.
To her relief, Brick released his hold on her and instead they simply walked together, Brick and Giovanni still chatting amiably about vacations and "work" trips gone wrong in the past. Vivia walked alongside Giovanni, throwing the redhead girl ugly looks the entire way up the stairs and through stone doorframe into another large room, which offered a stunning view of the last few minutes of sunset and the blackening waters of the Mediterranean crashing against the cliffside. A massive table piled high with lavish platters occupied the center of the room.
As the reached the table, Giovanni left them to sit by his uncle. Vivia parted for her appropriate spot as well with barely a nod. Brick led her through the crowd with gentle pressure from his hand on her lower back.
Somehow, he knew just which seats were theirs, and pulled out hers for her, before relaxing into his own. As soon everyone had pulled in their chairs, there was silence and all eyes were on the head of the table, where Signor Ghirlandaio stood, rocking back and forth on his heels, making friendly eye contact with everyone and no one in particular. Blossom spotted Giovanni watching his elder relative attentively on his left hand side. For an instant, she was struck by the strong family resemblance in the two men – sharp chin, dark eyes and hair, and a broad smile that made you feel welcome in an instant…and yet the two Ghirlandaios both possessed a dangerous feel to them that, when reflected upon, brought to mind their true criminality.
Blossom inwardly shuddered, realizing how it would be only to easy to forget their dreadful deeds while focusing solely on their warm personalities.
Stabbed in the back with a smile.
When the Mafia lord had finally decided he had everyone's attention, he turned his gaze directly to Blossom. In suite, the rest of the table of thirty odd people turned their eyes to her. Blossom's heart flew into her throat, but she just smiled placidly at Signor Ghirlandaio.
"Well then, I'm glad to have you all with me tonight, as well as our newest friend, Blossom Utonium! Let us eat the delicious food our great chefs have prepared! To family!"
In a swift, obviously pre decided movement, everyone, including Brick, lifted their glasses of champagne and repeated his last two words.
"To family!"
Blossom was a little late on the glass raising, but no one really noticed as they dug into the ridiculous amounts of food in front of them, and waiters began flitting hither and thither catering to everyone's needs.
Brick leaned over and murmured so quietly in her ear, that she needed super-hearing to understand.
"You realize that would be considered a great honor, not only to distinguish you in front of the table, but to deliver the speech in your mother tongue."
Blossom nodded in understanding, and the pair dug into their food, which largely consisted of varying types of pastas, crusty bread and several salad options, including a Greek one which proved to be Blossom's favorite. The waiters and butlers catered to her every need, refilling her water, and asking repeatedly if they could fetch her anything. After a while, this got to be annoying, but each time she politely declined. She delicately avoided the glass of champagne each of them had been provided with, and did as Brick did, only partaking a few sips of the bubbly liquid.
And throughout the entire lengthy meal, she enjoyed the stupendous view of the dark waters lapping against the rocks, while the huge full moon dangled above like decorative disco ball.
Brick quickly became engrossed in conversation in Italian with the middle aged woman on his other side. The portly, balding man on Blossom's right took this as an opportunity to start up with her.
His name was Lord Whimsay, he was Dutch, very rich, and he was apparently very pleased to have a native English speaker to practice with. They carried on a humorous dialect, discussing the drastic change certain words in English had underwent, and he even taught the redhead a few Dutch phrases.
When the group seemed to have had its fill of the main course, Signor Ghirlandaio once again made an announcement to the group, although this time in Italian, making sure everyone would remember to come make to the table in a few minutes for dessert, which he claimed would be magnificent.
Overall, she thought as Brick pulled out her chair to let her out, she had passed an enjoyable meal, but came out on the other side worried at how well she got along so well with this bunch of slit throat criminals. She was a heroine, a guest agent of the CIA, defender of the innocent. She shouldn't have feelings of comradery for people who couldn't count on all their fingers and toes how many people they had personally slaughtered.
She shouldn't be making friends.
Ironically, just as she thought this, Vivia Dreeshaw brushed past her rudely, making sure to bump the puff's shoulders in cold hostility.
Well, there's one friend I don't have…
To her surprise, Brick let out a snort of exasperation as the Russian brunette flounced away. Again, he leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"We have to talk."
He grabbed her hand and pulled her away and out of the dining hall and down one of dark hallways, and into a small niche where a painting was probably supposed to hang, but, for whatever reason, there was none. It was a bit of a squeeze, but the two managed to effectively hide in the cramped space, even if there wasn't quite as much space as she would have liked between their bodies. Suddenly, she became conscious of how little clothing she was truly wearing. Uncomfortably, she squished herself further against the wall and concentrated on meeting the boy's bloody stare, which glowed in the dim lighting.
Damn hormones. Do we even have hormones…? Off topic…
"I was talking to Senora Johija back at dinner and I learned a lot," he began in a whisper.
Blossom's heart soared hopefully. A new lead in the case? Any information they could add to the case was desperately important and Blossom would even consider all this time, preparation, and nerves well spent if it turned out to be important.
"Well?" she murmured eagerly, pink eyes widening hungrily, impatient to hear.
But, of course, Brick was one who loved to disappoint, aggravate, and generally drive insane. He narrowed his eyes irritatingly.
"Not here, not now. We'll leave after dessert and appropriate goodbyes."
Blossom glared at him, disbelievingly.
"You dragged me back here to tell me to wait?" she hissed irately.
Brick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"You're impossible. No, I also wanted to explain the stick up Vivia Dreeshaw's ass," he growled, frustrated.
"Yeah, what's with that?" Blossom queried.
"…she kinda has a thing for me…" he mumbled quickly, momentarily averting his gaze to take a peek down the hall, as if worried someone was coming.
Blossom looked at him in a bit of stunned silence.
Brick returned his gaze to her and sighed, again.
"Oh, shut up," he snapped uncomfortably.
"I didn't say anything," she retorted smoothly, still letting this odd piece of information sink in. It defiantly explained the other girl's hostility towards her. Still, it was odd…who would have a thing for Brick? That girl must be pretty desperate…
"You know what I mean!" he grumbled.
Blossom didn't want to say she was irritated, but somehow, this new turn of events did not sit with her well. Brick continued speaking as he realized Blossom had no comment.
"I didn't tell you because I hoped she would be at her home in Russia."
"Whatever. It's not like I came in here to make friends."
"Well, you're doing okay."
Was that a compliment? Coming from Brick, she supposed it was.
"I suppose. They aren't how expected them."
Brick pulled a face, but for the life of her, Blossom couldn't tell if it was distaste or…fear?
"No," he replied shortly.
In the second of silence that followed, a sound from down the hall hit the teens super-powered ears. A footstep. Blossom turned to face Brick. Red met pink in a startled stare. Again, the echoes of a man's shoes padding down the hall towards them. Panic crossed Brick's face, but before Blossom had to time to register or make sense of the situation, the back of her head was slammed forcefully against the back of the wall.
Blossom's eyes widened and she gasped as she got the wind knocked out of her lungs. Instinctively, she pushed back against Brick, who now had a firm grip on her wrists, using his body to pin her against the freezing stone.
Apparently, he had gotten stronger since their fights as five year olds, because she couldn't budge him. Confusion and anger filled her as he continued to lean in, and she struggled even more.
His face was close, far to close to hers. When he spoke, she could feel his warm breath brush against her neck, and she shivered, the contrast of the chilly wall and his remarkably warm body giving her goose bumps.
"Play along," he hissed, the edge of alarm in his voice catching Blossom's attention.
Suddenly, it all made sense. Their cover story. And oh God someone was coming. They would think the two Reds were plotting if they were discovered talking in the corner.
She was going to kill Brick later. She was going to castrate him, put his hands in a mega blender, and then blind him. He would pay dearly for leaving them no other option. But for now, she had to do as he said, and 'play along.'
She stopped struggling, and Brick released her wrists, but kept himself pressed against her thin dress. The footsteps grew nearer, less than a hundred feet away.
Blossom's heart was pounding a mile a minute, a most unhealthy rate, but as Brick placed a hand on her waist and the other on the side of her face, she just couldn't calm it. Steeling herself against…her own mind, she wrapped her arms around his neck, entangling her fingers in his long, wild red hair.
His face was buried in the crook between her face and her left shoulder, and his lips just barely brushed against the sensitive area just below her jawbone. To her displeasure, this sent a tingling shiver down her spine and the throat tensed. To her even greater displeasure, this made Brick smirk the slightest bit against her neck and Blossom's anger mounted.
At the rate the person was traveling and how close the echoes his feet made against the stone floor, Blossom guessed he'd be there in seconds. Seconds too long for her, it was getting harder and harder to think straight as Brick's mouth gently grazed down her neck to her collar bone.
The approaching figure was mere feet away, and would spot them any second. Play along, play along…
Her long pale leg slipping through the slit in her skirt, she leaned against the wall and wrapped her leg around his thigh, resting her forehead softly onto the side of Brick's face, running her hands down his back to grip feverishly at his coat.
Blossom wasn't sure whether to feel avenged or dirty when his breath hitched somewhere deep in his throat. She felt his heart pounding in time with hers, as fast as if they had just ran a marathon and it was all she could do to keep from gasping as his lower hand slid from her waist to her hip, while his other thumb caressed her check.
The footsteps arrived and came to a stumbling stop. Brick leapt backwards and Blossom righted herself, the pair breathing heavily and staring like deer in the headlights at Giovanni, who stared back in bewilderment, before cracking a small smirk.
"Am I interrupting something?" he teased gently. Blossom's heart was still pounding, her hands shaking slightly, and she was sure she was blushing. She didn't dare risk a sidelong glance at Brick.
"Uh…" deadpanned her "smart" counterpart.
Giovanni chuckled and waved his hand as if to shake off any explanation they were going to come up with.
"No, no, I see. But, it is good I came anyway, dessert is starting!" the Italian grinned cheekily and left again, supposedly going to meet his uncle and the others at the dining room.
The Reds waited a few good moments as Giovanni's footsteps died away again into the distant chatter, not making eye contact. Hastily, she tweaked her ruffled bun back into place. The only noise to be heard was their deep breathing.
Blossom dared to peek to the side. Brick was glaring down the hall, a light dusting of his signature color across his face. She quickly averted her eyes again, waiting for him to lead them back to join the "family" for dessert.
Another second of painful silence before he finally did, with a mumble.
"Come on then."
Still with no eye contact, they walked quickly down the dark hall, back into the light of the gathering. They wordlessly joined the flow of people back into the dining room, breathing returned to normal.
Of course, being Europeans, dessert was again a long affair of assorted fruits, cheeses, cakes, homemade ice cream, and coffee. Blossom nibbled on a piece of cheesecake, which although was delicious, she couldn't fully stomach. Lord Whimsay commented that perhaps she had eaten too much of the main course and the sound of his voice made her jump.
"Oh, heh, yeah, I guess," she laughed a bit uneasily, finding it difficult to concentrate when the damn boy was sipping coffee and eating ice cream beside her. She was super aware of his every movement, having yet to look at him. What was wrong with her? She should be more focused on fitting in with these people, perhaps learning information vital for their mission.
Lord Whimsay looked a bit concerned.
"Are you all right? You seem a bit distracted…"
Blossom smiled, pushing her confused thoughts and emotions away, determined to see this thing through to the end. They had come this far, she couldn't be blowing it now.
"Perhaps, I was just thinking on how many countries I have yet to see."
This launched them into a discussion of how truly long it took to visit and sightsee and get to know even one of Europe's historical cities, and how formidable it would be to even attempt at seeing them all. Thankfully, this small talk kept Blossom distracted long enough for everyone to finish their after-meal treat and conversations.
After the meal, a few people who were staying at the mansion, including Vivia, said goodnight to their host, Signor Ghirlandaio, and retired to their rooms. The rest of the party once again descended the stairs to continue talking or take a stroll in the courtyard which was now beautifully lit by the hundreds of hanging paper lanterns.
The Reds descended the stairs with all the others, Blossom's fingertips gently resting on his forearm, even this small contact bringing friction between the two. All she really wanted to do was run away and hide in a corner until she could look him in the eyes again without remembering how he smelled. The very thought was like taking a demolishing ball to her self-esteem. She really needed to get her act together; arrogant, haughty Brick was not allowed to distract her like that.
But, Blossom remained close to Brick, who approached various highly ranked Mafia members and said goodbye. She hadn't met any of them yet, but apparently it would be rude to leave without even saying a word to them. They proved not to be as likeable as the Ghirlandaios. Many smiled politely, but they radiated fear and greed. Particularly a certain man, who actually had filed his teeth into fangs, and had beady little eyes filled with hate. Now if they were all like this, Blossom thought, I would have a much better time at hating them all.
Eventually, they re-found Giovanni, who once again shook Brick's hand and planted the double-kiss on Blossom.
"Goodbye and good night, Signor Brick! Take care and don't stay away for so long next time! And good night, Blossom, I hope you shall return to say hello next time you are in Europe!"
"Thanks a bunch, Giovanni," smirked Brick.
"Yes, thanks, I hope we'll meet again," agreed Blossom, truthfully meaning the words, however dangerous it was. Mafia he may be, but he couldn't be that bad of a person…
As they were walking away to try to find Signor Ghirlandaio, he called merrily after them.
"And have fun!" Giovanni laughed, shaking his head at the retreating couple. Brick tossed a playful grin over his shoulder while it was all Blossom could do to keep from melting to the ground in shame.
Maybe she didn't want to see him again. The humiliation might just be too much.
Conveniently, Signor Ghirlandaio was next to the door, hands behind his back, eyes closed, letting the night ocean breeze brush over his face and immaculately combed hair.
"Bueno noche, Signor, mille de grazi por tout."
("Good night, sir, thank you so much for everything.")
The Mafia lord's eyes opened at the sound of Brick's voice and suddenly he was all smiles.
"Ah, but no, I must thank you for your company this evening! You really should come more often, it is a pleasure to have you! And bring Ms. Utonium for sure, you two will always be most welcome!"
Although his words were kind and Blossom was sure he meant them, it also made her a little nervous. This was most obviously just a party house for the Mafia. Their real work must occur all over Europe. Were they so strong that they could welcome a known super hero into their home-front without a trace of fear or caution? Could she really do no damage to them?
She pondered this as they slowly made their way past the courtyard and out to their car, but once away from the hustle and bustle of the house, and left alone with Brick once again, her thoughts once again were consumed with avoiding his gaze.
The memory of his lips ghosting their way down her neck was just too recent to shut out. They piled into the car, where he occupied himself with turning the car on, and she with removing her shoes. Once rid of them she settled herself into her seat, arms crossed and eyes on the road.
Brick cleared his throat, and the noise was far too loud for the silent space. They often remained quiet for hours on end, but that was in bitter, angry, cold shoulder for the other. Now, the awkward tension was so thick, Blossom swore she could rip a bleeding gash in it with her laser vision.
This unfortunately lasted a good twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of agonizing dead air.
"So," his voice broke the quiet and made her internally wince, but she didn't turn or make eye contact, "You wanted to know what I learned."
Ah. Why, yes. She'd forgotten all about his original reason to drag her away to the damned niche. She felt like slapping herself across the face for being so scatter-brained and ridiculous.
"Yeah," she replied evenly, pretending she had remembered all along. Apparently, Brick was feeling the tension too, because he launched into a rant faster than she could blink.
"At dinner, I talked mostly with Senora Johja, current representative of the Spanish branch. Mostly pointless news on their expansion, and the ease with which they had working with the local authorities.
"But once I mentioned odd disappearances and bloody deaths, well, she was off. Apparently, our villain spent some quality time in Spain, about four months ago. Six small children have disappeared from a local school where Johja has influence, and only four of the mangled bodies were found. One of her colleges also was found, dead and mutilated, in her office.
"This made Johja think that attacker was perhaps a rival Mafia, but she dug around, tortured a few poor souls and came up empty handed. And trust me when I say that rarely do Johja's cruel and unusual torture methods come up empty."
Blossom's insides contorted uncomfortably at the mental image, but Brick paid no heed, barreling on with his story.
"Then, for some reason, the attacks stopped. At least in her particular village. But Johja was on a mission and was not put off. She doggedly asked surrounding villages and towns, discovering that the attacks were traveling north. Last she heard, a few days ago, a member of the 'family' turned up dead just south of Paris."
Blossom held up a hand for him to pause.
"Just to clarify, you're saying that the reason we have not heard of most of these deaths because they were 'family' related and not reported to the authorities?"
Brick nodded shortly, continuing with a rush.
"Yes. Which, of course, leads me to believe that this criminal is even more dangerous than previously supposed, and that's saying something."
Blossom was momentarily distracted by the realization that she and Brick often had similar sounding rants. Brick carried on with his own said rant.
"So, when pressed what I should do if I want to learn more about these deaths and their attackers, she recommend Paris. I agree, and say that we set out in the morning, after reporting to Sherry of course. His trail is hot, and with some heavy-duty power driving, we might be able to catch some good leads while everything is still fresh, and maybe even prevent some deaths."
Blossom nodded slowly in agreement, turning over this new information, as the heavy silence settled in again. Brick turned into the exit lane for a small town.
"We'll stay here," he explained as an after thought.
Blossom didn't respond. In a few short minutes, they pulled into a motel parking lot. They paid the sleepy clerk and procured their room keys, quickly disappearing into their respective rooms, effectively escaping each other's presence.
Quickly, the pink puff ripped her hair out of its bun, tore off her expensive dress, threw on her pajamas and slung her bag across the room. With a moan of internal pain, she threw herself face first onto her bed, head buried in her pillow.
This is not happening she groaned into the fluffy white material.
This deal just got a lot harder. Curse you, Brick.
\.X./
Ooh. O.o My Italian is extraordinarily rusty, I apologize in advance to anyone who actually speaks the language. My butchering of it must have made you weep.
Dress shopping was funny, for me at least. Their little trip down memory lane (about their first battle/meeting) made me smile, how bout you? Also Blossy's fascination with Brick's eyes. :p
And we finally learn a little more about Brick's past with the Mafia. I hope I didn't confuse any of you . I fear I did…drat it.
And meeting the Mafia was kinda interesting to write…how was it to read? One of my short comings as a writer is I often have a hard time predicting reactions to my work…
Mhm. Brick and Blossom get a little steamy for the sake of their cover story. Psh, yeah right. We all know that deep down inside, they both enjoyed every second, even if for now they are very confused and awkward, which will of course led to more anger against the other. Fun, fun, fun.
And it's all in Blossom's POV. Idk, I just couldn't decide when to switch over to Brick, so I never got around to it. Oh well. I have plenty of future chapters that he gets a lot of spotlight.
*holds up hobo cardboard sign: "Have a moment? I'm hungry for reviews!"* Lol, joking. Okay, not really. Please? :3