I'm *so* sorry I made you all wait so long for an update for this story... I'm a terrible person and it's such a craptastic update, too... *Sigh* Frani and Arthur make their appearance and things get interesting for Gil and Mattie!

I don't deserve anything for this, but I finally got it out, so here you all go!

Alfred eagerly sat in the backseat of the squad car for the ride back to the precinct, pressing his face to the glass and watching everyone go by. He asked the two officers if they could turn the sirens on, but Ivan quickly shot that idea down before he could even finish his sentence. Alfred pouted for a bit before forgetting about it completely as he wondered if there was any sign of Mattie around here.

It was suggested that they go back to the precinct to inform the boy's parents of his disappearance. Alfred told the officers that his parents were away on a business trip together, but their cell phones would still be working and they also left the number on the fridge just in case—Alfred made sure to grab it before the officers escorted him out as he didn't remember the name of the hotel they were staying at. That had been Matt's job…

I hope you're okay, bro…

Ivan gripped the steering wheel so hard that Toris was afraid it would crumple under the Russian's strength. He hadn't heard just what Gilbert had told him over the phone and Ivan was tight-lipped about saying anything no matter how hard he tried.

It was an unnerving feeling, not knowing what was going through Ivan's head.

Ivan would occasionally mutter something in Russian under his breath, the brunet straining his ears to try and catch a few things. It was difficult trying to listen in when Ivan was speaking so softly and he didn't dare make it obvious that he was trying to translate the words. Clearly, the Russian didn't want anybody in the car to know what he was saying. But he could catch a few words here and there: "thief," "fool," "annoying," "games," but one thing in particular made the hair on Toris' neck stand up.

"Deal." A deal between whom? A deal for what?

Alfred was enjoying this particular car ride more than the others. The last time he had been in a squad car, the cuffs were on him, his face and hands were cut up, and he would have had to spend a full night in lockup if his fathers didn't come to his aid. Suffice to say his dad was beyond angry, lecturing him the entire car ride home as his papa tried and failed to calm his husband down.

He didn't even want to imagine his dad's reaction when he found this out… There would definitely be hell to pay for this. Alfred cringed in his seat just thinking about it; his dad's thick eyebrows could be scary enough as it was, but when furrowed angrily…

The back door swung open, startling the blond enough to snap out of it. Toris held the door open for him, politely telling him to quickly follow after Ivan as the Russian was in a bad enough mood and making him wait would only make it worse.

Alfred slipped through the door just before it could close in his face, pausing to look around. The normally quiet precinct was alive and buzzing. Officers were scattered around the room, holding files and moving around in a chaotic dance. Many of the officers at their seats were taking phone calls and jotting down notes, individual conversations lost to the cacophony of voices that filled the room.

"Big brother!" cried Natalya and Ivan soon found himself tackled in a hug. Alfred blinked, eyes wide as he watched the two. Ivan had a little sister…? He could see the familial resemblance. "Why wouldn't you let me go with you?! Why do you always have to take him? I could've been much more help!" She shot Toris a death glare that went unnoticed by the brunet as he rejoined his Baltic companions at their desk. He called them up as they were leaving and asked them to track down any leads pertaining to Gilbert Beilschmidt.

If anyone could find something, it would be Raivis and Eduard. How, Toris had no idea, but sometimes it was best not to question it.

"He is my partner, Natalya, so we must work together."

"But I'm just as good as he is! I'm better! But you still pick him over me!"

Ivan sighed. "Natalya, please, we cannot discuss this right now. I am working on a case." He glanced at Alfred, Natalya's eyes following to quickly size up the blond. He waved and smiled, stiffening when her gaze grew cold. There was a dangerous gleam in her eye that unsettled Alfred. Ivan took note of this and as much as he would've loved to watch the annoying brat squirm, he had to be a little more professional while in the precinct.

"Can you find an empty room for us? I have to call his parents to inform them of the situation." An empty room was unnecessary for right now, but it would give him a few minutes free of his younger sister. As much as he loved her, she could be much too overbearing for Ivan's liking.

Natalya gave Alfred a warning look before disappearing, not liking the idea of her big brother being alone with the blond. Both men breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally gone, Alfred relaxing considerably. He found himself staring at Ivan, eyes wide. Ivan raised an eyebrow at seeing the look on Alfred's face, but before he could ask, he was surprised with a question he didn't recall ever being asked before. "You're a brother?" Today was just full of firsts.

Ivan sighed. Why was he asking him this? "Is there a problem with that?"

"No, I just didn't think… Oldest?"

"Нет," he said, grabbing something out of his desk drawer. "My eldest sister is captain of our squad."

Alfred's eyes widened even more and Ivan wondered how those blue orbs were staying in their sockets. "What? Your whole family works here?"

"Da. I rose through the ranks at a very young age, but I would rather do field work than manage from the back. When I was offered the position of Lead Detective, I could not say no. I have my own team and I do not sacrifice doing what I enjoy. Natalya joined the Academy just to be closer to me, but that does not mean she has not fully earned her position."

Alfred found himself surprisingly fascinated by the Russian's story, hanging on every word. "How old were you?"

The drawer slammed shut. "You are what, eighteen?"

Alfred huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm nineteen."

Ivan couldn't help but chuckle. "Nineteen. I was sixteen when I graduated, seventeen when I joined, and nineteen when I reached the rank I am at now."

That made Ivan slightly cooler in Alfred's eyes. Slightly. "No way! That's so cool! So you've been fighting crime for a while now."

"I suppose you could say that," he said carefully, unsure of why he was even bothering to entertain all these strange questions. He could've easily changed the topic or simply refused to answer, yet so far he responded to every question Alfred asked him. "It helps to know the right people to rise so quickly. My older sister already had her position here and helped me along the way."

"Oh, that makes sense… So I could come to you if I ever wanted to be a cop or a hero or something?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "And just what do you expect me to do for you?"

"Well if I wanted to do something like this when I graduated, could you help me?"

"Нет," he said, not hesitating a moment. "You want it, you work for it."

"Come on! You wouldn't help me out?" When he got no answer from the Russian, Alfred sighed and pouted. "Fine. You really are a jerk… But seriously, you are going to help me get my brother back, right? And you're not going to let him get hurt or anything…?"

Alfred's entire demeanour changed as he spoke of his brother. His voice held a seriousness that wasn't present during any other conversation Ivan had with him and for just a moment, he appeared to be much older than his actual age. It was brief, fleeting, but Ivan rather liked this side of Alfred; it was much easier to deal with.

"Da, we are going to do everything we can. Gilbert likes to play games; everything holds some ulterior motive. It is a matter of figuring out what it is and catching him before he disappears on us again. I do not think he will hurt your brother unless he feels absolutely cornered."

Alfred sighed a little. That wasn't exactly the answer he was hoping for—he wanted something more definite and reassuring—but it was better than nothing and it did make him feel better, if only a little bit. "Nobody knows my brother better than me, so I'm going to help too and I won't take no for an answer."

And there it was again. Well, it was nice while it lasted, Ivan thought with a sigh. "I will have you arrested if you attempt to meddle in police affairs. If you even think about going against my orders, you will find yourself behind bars until this investigation is over and no amount of your irritating complaining will get you out of it. You do understand what I am saying, da?"

He pouted. "You'll need me. Just you wait and see."

Before Ivan could open his mouth to argue that point, Natalya came running back into the room, blocking Ivan's view of the blond. Alfred quickly shut his mouth before he made her angry—she was scary enough as it was—and blinked as she grabbed her brother's hand, pulling him up out of his chair with what looked like relative ease. She muttered to Ivan in Russian and he nodded occasionally, glancing past her at Alfred.

Note to self, Al: don't get on her bad side. Ever. She looks like she would probably slice my heart out and use it for target practice or something and have her brother watch… Alfred shuddered at the thought.

Alfred looked anywhere except at the brother and sister, instead distracting himself with whatever was in the precinct. A few officers walked around with thick files in their hands, talking to each other or to somebody on the phone. He looked over to the Baltics' desk, where the three of them were talking casually, huddled around Eduard's computer. Raivis nodded as Toris spoke of something he couldn't hear with everything going on around him, and Alfred found himself smiling. He really did like the energy in the precinct; it made him feel at ease to see all these people trying to help everyone else…

"Alfred, come this way. There is an interrogation room open; we will continue in there, where there is privacy and quiet." Alfred jumped slightly, not expecting to be called so suddenly. Ivan and Natalya had already crossed to the other side of the room, both wearing an irritated look at having to wait for him. Toris sensed it too, briefly glancing up from his computer to see what was going on. Even in the occasional chaos of the precinct, he had learned to pick up on his boss' mood and expressions even from afar; doing so had saved his hide many a time.

He was led to a small room towards the back of the building. On the way, they had passed the Captain's office, Alfred trying his best to peer through the blinds to see just what the head of the squad looked like. On the glass window, printed in all black read "Captain Yekaterina Braginskaya," and Alfred wondered what kind of woman she was. Scary like Natalya, strong and emotionless like Ivan, or a combination of both? He caught the faint glimpse of a black leather chair and a desk, and if he squinted and tilted his head, he could have sworn he saw a lightly clothed figure move. He was pushed forward somewhat roughly by Ivan who had started trailing behind him at some point, stumbling and nearly losing his balance. Natalya glanced over her shoulder and huffed, muttering a curse or two in Russian to which Ivan chuckled.

"This is where we will stay for a while," Ivan said, ushering the blond in. Natalya was setting up the phone on the table for them, hard at work. Alfred shuffled in, running up to the one-way mirror and staring at his reflection. He grinned, cupping his hands around his eyes and leaning against the glass, trying to see if he could see through to the other room. Ivan raised an eyebrow as he shut the door, not bothering to ask for fear of what he would be answered with.

"I'm finished, brother. You sure you don't need me to help you with anything?"

"Нет, спасибо."

"Fine…" She forced the word out, balling a fist. "I'll go check on what those fools are up to. Call me if you need anything." And just like that, Ivan and Alfred were left alone in the room.

"Sit," Ivan ordered, gesturing to the chair across from him. He had to call Alfred two more times after that before he bothered to listen to him, but he pulled the wrinkled paper out of his pocket before Ivan could even ask for it.

"They're in France right now; Papa had an important meeting and Dad went along as usual. These are the numbers they said they could be reached at in case of emergency. They're going to kill me…" He slid the paper across the table to Ivan and let his head hit the desk hard. "I was supposed to be looking out for Mattie… He's older, but I'm more of the protector, you know? How am I supposed to tell them that I let my brother get stolen away by this Gilbert person?"

Ivan picked up the paper, blinking when he felt the desk vibrate from the hit. "You were out, Alfred. It was not your fault that your brother was targeted and there is no chance that you being there would have made any difference. He very well could have taken you both."

"I could've taken him! It was for Mattie! And he's no weakling either, you know."

"Gilbert finds a way to get what he wants in the end. He could have hurt you if he wanted to, so by being away, you potentially have saved yourself." Ivan started dialing the first number on the page, the one with 'hotel extension' printed next to it.

Alfred looked down as the phone started ringing, fidgeting nervously. What would he tell them and how fast would it be before they went off on him? And with Ivan in the room, no less… The officer, however, looked completely relaxed. Of course, Alfred figured; he must have done this countless times, heard everything in the book by now.

Just before the machine picked up, a light, accented voice answered. "Ello? Monsieur Bonnefoy speaking. Who is this?" Alfred glanced at Ivan who hadn't reacted yet to the voice on the other line. Was he supposed to answer? How to go about it? Make it seem like a normal phone call and ease him into it? He was relieved that it wasn't his Dad who answered the phone; that would have been much more difficult.

As soon as he steeled his nerves and was about to answer, Russian accented words filled the room. Alfred was thankful and also a little angry that he let him wait in suspense for that long, but had expertly decided to keep quiet for right now. "Mr. Bonnefoy? This is the police. My name is Detective Braginsky."

"Ze police? Is something wrong?"

"What did you say, Francis? Did you just say police?" Alfred tensed. That was his Dad's voice in the background. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure…" Francis was nervous; Alfred could hear it in his voice.

"You are the parents of Matthew Williams and Alfred Jones, da?"

"O-Oui… Are they in trouble, Monsieur Braginsky?"

"Oh hell… I'm sorry, officer. Whatever they broke or stole or whatever trouble Alfred's caused, we'll pay for it, but maybe a few days in lockup will do the boy good."

"Thanks, Dad…" Alfred mumbled to himself, head down.

"Arthur!" Francis hissed. "Do not say that! Alfred is a fine boy, mais he does find himself in trouble sometimes…"

"I didn't mean it! You know I love the lad."

Ivan chuckled at the back-and-forth. It was always interesting listening to parents or couples going at it, especially during interrogations. When one would flip on the other, the interrogation just got that much more exciting. "Нет, нет, that is not the reason I am calling you. It is about your other son, Matthew Williams."

"Mathieu? I was not expecting that… Et what has he done…?"

"I assume you know of Gilbert Beilschmidt, the wanted criminal at large?" Ivan heard Francis' breath catch on the other line. "I am sorry to inform you that your son has been kidnapped by that man."

There was silence on the other line for a moment before Francis exploded into tears and hysterics, sobbing into the phone. "Mon fils! Mon petit Mathieu!" Francis cried into the phone and into the arms of his husband, who was trying desperately to console him. "E-Et Alfred…?"

Alfred figured that was his cue to chime in. "P-Papa…?"

Francis breathed a sigh of relief but the tears didn't stop. "Oh grâce à Dieu! You are alright… I was so worried…"

Arthur promptly took the phone from his lover as he continued crying into his shoulder, losing all English to French. "Alfred, what happened? Are you alright?"

"Dad…Dad, I'm so sorry… Mattie, h-he… It was only a few minutes, I swear…!"

"Later, my boy. I'm just glad you're alright. Where's that Detective?"

"I am still here," Ivan said simply, not bothering to interrupt the family moment. "I advise returning as soon as possible to keep Alfred safe and out of trouble. We are doing everything we can—"

"You bet your ass we're coming back there! Francis and I are on the next flight out and I expect an answer to every one of my questions or you'll be dealing with more than just me."

"We will talk properly when you two arrive and I will answer whatever questions I can. Until then, Alfred will remain in the precinct under police protection."

"Fine. Don't let anything happen to our other son," Arthur said sternly, glaring at the phone despite the fact Ivan couldn't see it. "We'll be there in a few hours." The line clicked dead and Alfred's head hit the desk once more.

"This is just like a scene from a movie and I can't even properly enjoy it because of everything that's going on… I know things are going to go to hell once they show up..."

"Then you have a few hours to start preparing yourself for it. I advise making the most of it." Ivan stood, walking for the door.

"You're just going to leave me here?!"

"Only if you do not come along. That did not take as long as I had anticipated and seeing as we have time and I am in charge of watching over you, I figured we would get something to eat. You must be hungry."

Alfred's head shot up. "I don't need a babysitter, mind you. But yes, I would love some food. I'm starving…"

Ivan let that one go, in no mood to fight him on it; there would be plenty of that once his parents arrived. "Then we will order in. Pick whatever you like; it is on the department."

Matthew was listening with wide eyes as Gilbert spoke, not sure what he should be feeling, let alone doing. The way he laughed as he jerked that Detective Ivan around! He was used to being polite and respectful to everybody; if he ever spoke to an authority figure like that, his Papa would surely have a heart attack. Speaking of his Papa, Matt really missed him. With any luck, this whole thing would be over before his parents got back from their trip and they'd never have to know. And Alfred… If there was a detective, Al must have called the cops, Matt figured.

Could this Ivan person really get him out of this? And those two… Just how did they know each other? Gilbert asked for him by name and everything… They must have crossed paths a few times over the years…

Matt wanted to ask so many questions, but Gilbert had threatened to tie him up and knock him out again if he dared make a sound while he was on the phone. That terrified the blond enough to keep him silent for the duration of the phone call and he really wished that he could hear what was happening on the other line. Maybe he would have heard his brother's voice…

"Kesesese! This deal better go well or the kid will get it, Ivan. And you know I'm a man of my word." Why didn't he just run while he was on the phone? Gilbert seemed into his conversation with that detective; who was to say he'd even notice? "And do get on my demands; I hate being kept waiting. Until next time, Ivan!" The phone clicked off and Gilbert chucked it on the couch with a grin.

Matt watched the phone bounce on the cushions a few times, working up the courage to summon his voice. "Did…Did you really want all those things?"

"Huh? You're going to have to speak up if you ever want to be heard, kid. Seriously, how does anyone hear a word that comes out of your mouth?"

Matt balled a fist. He really didn't like the way this man was talking to him. Sure, he wasn't wrong, but he didn't want to be reminded of it every time he tried to talk. "Those things you said on the phone! Money, beer, a beautiful woman, a passport, and a ticket to a non-extradition country?"

Gilbert just laughed. "What man doesn't want all those things?" When the blond didn't say anything back, he just went on. "That should keep the Russian bastard busy for a while. I wish I could see the look on his face as he tries to get all those things. He's probably got no idea what to do and is begging that little Toris kid for help."

He makes himself laugh really easily, Matt thought as he watched him silently, waiting until he was done to speak.

"How do you know this Ivan person? You talk almost like you're old friends or something…"

"Friends?" he snorted. "With him? Don't make me laugh. I can't stand him. We're not friends, we're enemies. He's the cop and I'm the bad guy. We just have this mutual understanding when it comes to games; it's so fun seeing which of us will go down first."

"O-Oh…" Matt shrunk back a little.

"But I won't deny that we have known each other for a while."

"How?"

Gilbert gave him a look. "You ask a lot of questions. Some of them you don't want the answer to. I've been at this for a while and he's been the one on my trail since the beginning. That was one of the things that helped him get his recognition as an officer, you know. After that, he was just 'assigned' to me."

"Why do you hate him so much? What's he like?" Matt found himself getting pulled deeper and deeper into this great story. It was scary, but the more Gilbert talked, the less he found himself being able to pull away. He wanted to know about Gilbert, about Ivan, about everything he had done… This was turning out to be exactly the adventure Matt needed.

"He's a ruthless bastard, a condescending prick, he's violent, likes playing games with people, not a fan of giving straight answers… Did I mention he's a dick? Well yeah. Thinks he's on top of the world. And he's Russian! They're all emotionless, the lot of 'em." Gilbert huffed and walked to the desk in the corner of the room—which Matt hadn't even noticed—and grabbed the small black laptop off it. The keys clicked furiously, Matt inching closer and closer each time a new one was pressed. "Here." He turned the screen to Matt who froze in place, looking over the article.

"Young detective to take over the Beilschmidt case! Ivan Braginsky, one of the department's youngest, has been handed the reins and will be tasked with tracking down the criminal eluding police for so long. Will he be the one to finally catch him or will crime be free another day?" Ivan was standing next to an older woman with large breasts and short silvery hair, smiling an obviously forced smile for the camera. She donned the captain's uniform and stood next to him with pride. Matt couldn't quite get past how similar their faces were—were they related?

"This is Ivan?" Matt asked incredulously, looking away from the screen and up at Gilbert. "He's so young… And he doesn't look like any of those things at all."

"Trust me, kid. Looks are deceiving. Behind that childish face is pure evil. He's not to be taken lightly. And that picture is a few years old now; he's older than that. Not a kid anymore."

"Oh wow…" Matt was amazed. Everything was so surreal; if it wasn't for the fact he could still feel pain, he would've sworn he was just asleep on the couch, having the craziest dream of his life. Just who was 'Gilbert Beilschmidt' anyway? What makes a person want to do so many illegal things? Was a life in infamy really worth it?

"So…what did you do to end up like this?"

Gilbert just blinked. Did he just? Was he hearing that right? "What did I say about asking too many questions, kid?"

"S-Sorry…" Matt set the laptop down and stared at the ground. "I was just curious…"

"Don't be curious with me. We're not friends; you're just my means to an end." Those words hurt Matt more than they should have. Of course he wouldn't mean anything to some stranger, let alone a criminal, but he was starting to feel like he was actually needed for something. He hated it, this feeling. And he hated himself for feeling this way, but he couldn't do anything about it. Matt didn't know what to say next, curling up into himself and staying quiet. Gilbert looked shocked to see such a reaction for the kid and he really did feel something for him; he was young and that might have been a bit harsh…

Before Gilbert could say anything to console the kid, there were three quick knocks on the door. Both boys' heads shot over and Gilbert jumped out of his chair, racing toward the door. A small envelope slid under the doorframe, the sender leaving no trace of their presence except for that. Gilbert snatched it up, wasting no time ripping the envelope open. Matt watched in shock as those ruby eyes widened, completely awestruck as he saw something he never imagined possible.

Gilbert Beilschmidt had lost his composure.

Several hours later, Francis and Arthur had found their way to the precinct and were demanding to see Detective Braginsky. Ivan had let him sit at his desk—the boy wouldn't stop asking and he really just wanted him to shut up—and had ordered Toris to find him a game to keep him occupied. Alfred was leaning back in Ivan's chair, holding the handheld game close to him, paying little to no attention to his surroundings. Toris had called Ivan over to share a few ideas with him.

"If he tries to call back, we'll get a trace. The kid's phone also…" Toris trailed off as he heard the unfamiliar shouting, looking over toward the entrance. Ivan's eyes followed the sound.

"That must be them."

Arthur was holding Francis' hand tightly, the Frenchman's eyes red and puffy from crying the entire flight home. "You," Arthur said, pointing a finger at Toris. "Where can I find him?"

"If by him you mean me, then you have found him." Ivan held out a hand out of courtesy. "Detective Ivan Braginsky at your service. A pleasure, Mister…"

Arthur sized up the Russian, thick brows furrowing in thought. "Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland. This is my husband, Francis Bonnefoy, but you two have spoken already." Arthur took Ivan's hand and nodded. "Where is Alfred?"

"The boy is fine," Ivan said, turning and gesturing to his desk. "We made sure he was well taken care of until your arrival."

"Alfred!" Francis cried, pulling away from his husband to run over to his son. More tears were shed as he pulled Alfred into his chest, sobbing into his hair. "I'm so glad to see you! Are you alright? Were you hurt? Were the officers nice to you? Oh, mon fils…" Alfred squeaked as his papa squished him against his chest, trying to pull away. Francis sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his sleeves, smiling.

"Papa, I'm alright. It's pretty cool here! They gave me food and this game to play while I waited for you. Are you okay…?"

"Oui, I'll be okay…"

Arthur sighed, looking away from what was left of his family to give his attention to Ivan. "He's been like that since you called. Now I believe I was promised answers to my questions and to be informed of just what happened to Matthew."

"Da, I have not forgotten. There is a room in the back set up for us. Will your husband be joining us or can he not handle the details?"

"Francis would sooner die before not being there to hear about what happened to his kid."

"Alright. But he does not have to stay if he does not want to. Follow me, then."

Ivan waited until everyone was seated—Arthur and Francis had Alfred sit between them, not feeling safe otherwise—before beginning the story. Alfred fidgeted as he spoke of the technical details and of the policework, what they would do and his own thoughts on the situation. Ivan suggested a phone trace, canvassing the area, and alerting the general public to start; if Gilbert's presence here was more known, he would have less freedom to move. Francis began sobbing almost immediately, Arthur reaching around Alfred to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Once Ivan had finished his part, mentioning nothing about the game Gilbert proposed on the phone or the deal he had struck with him, Alfred had the floor, and it was with a nervousness unlike him that he told his parents about everything that happened, doing his best to not leave out any detail.

"So that's what you plan to do?" Arthur said, a bite to his words. "You have no idea whether or not that will get our son back? What about us? How long will this take? Months? Years? What if we never see our boy again?"

"I assure you, my team and I are doing everything we can to find him. This case is top priority and we will spare no manpower and follow every credible lead. It will not be resolved by tomorrow, but this case will not span months. I will make sure of that."

"You better make damn sure you do everything in your power, Detective." Arthur's emerald eyes were swirling with a fierce anger. "Or I'll go over your head and while I may be a gentleman, I'm not an enemy you want to have. Do you follow me?"

Ivan resisted the powerful urge to chuckle at the Briton's words, nodding instead. As powerful as Arthur may have been, did he really think he had anything over him? Ivan occasionally hated the way he was expected to conduct himself in situations like this, but he forced himself to act as by the book as possible. But that book was prone to losing a few pages here and there… "Da, you are understood. It will not come to that. You will be kept in the loop, of course, and all major decisions will be discussed with you, however it is at my final discretion whether or not we go ahead with the plan regardless of your wishes. You may be a powerful man, but I am the one in command here. So do not try and do my job and we will not have any problems."

"Fine," Arthur mumbled. Francis could see just how much his lover struggled to say that one word. "We'll help however we can… Call us the moment you get something new." Arthur quickly stood and left the room, not trusting himself to be civil around Ivan for much longer. Something about the Russian rubbed him the wrong way, even if he was trying to help.

Francis watched Arthur go, tutting softly. "Oh Arthur…" He met Ivan's eyes, forcing a small smile. "Désolé… He means well and he gets like this when he is worried. It's part of his nature. His pride won't let him admit it, but he's terrified and thankful that you're helping us. It means a lot. Merci…"

Ivan nodded, leading Francis and Alfred out. Alfred squirmed a little, not liking the fact his Papa wouldn't let go of him the entire time, but he went with it if it made him feel a little more at ease. "We will find him, rest assured. And you are welcome; it is the job of the police, after all, to catch criminals. Gilbert will be no exception."

Toris appeared from behind the one-way mirror once the family was gone, wearing a confused expression. "Why did you keep it a secret?"

Ivan just grinned. "They did not need to know right now. What good is telling them all that when nothing has happened? I cannot reveal my hand at the very beginning, da?"

"Ivan, they have a right to know about this…whatever you're going to do with Gilbert. That's their son they're worried about!"

"And if nothing comes of this, Toris? Would you prefer I got their hopes up for them to all be shattered? Because I can still call them back; they have not yet left the premises."

"N-No! Don't do that!" Toris' eyes widened. Ivan would do it, too. He had no doubt about that.

"Whatever happens with that is between me and Gilbert; I know he is trying to buy himself time. This is all part of his plan. He may seem remiss and indiscriminate, but he is surprisingly methodical. He is going to demand something of me, I know it. Those foolish demands he asked for on the phone are nothing more than a ploy to buy himself time; he does not want handouts. He can get all that for himself if he really wanted it."

"Do you have any idea what yet?"

"Нет. But he wants to meet me soon, that he has made perfectly clear. Unfortunately, it would be unbecoming of me to shoot him on sight; that is not the proper way to go about it, for the kid would be lost forever. But I will keep you updated. Now did you have something for me or did you just want to have a talk about ethics?"

"Eduard had something he wanted to discuss… It could be useful."

"Hm… I have some time; let me see what you have."

Ooh, just what was in that envelope Gil received? Who was at the door? It's a mystery until next chapter! Next one will be mostly Gil-centric and I'll try not to make you all wait so long for that one...