Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me and I make no money with it.

Summary: Misconceptions, unwarranted hostility and random bouts of acting.

Date: Jan. 2nd - 5.40 pm, between Tears and Under The Rain (Timeline: http :/ shiruy. livejournal. com/ 3602. html)

Edited: 30.12.10

28. Sorrow

Since they barely had anything it only took them a few minutes to be ready to go. At the checkout counter the same staff woman that had seen them in the hallway stood, in a bad mood judging by her expression. Alex was careful to keep behind Yassen to hide his state and call as little attention to him as possible.

It turned out he didn't have to bother, though; she was too busy glaring at the Russian in total disgust to spare the teen even a short glance. Alex wasn't sure whether to be amused or alarmed at her hostility.

"We want to check out," the Russian said in flawless French. Alex had noticed that the man's accent grew stronger or weaker depending on his mood and the situation.

"Key, please," the woman snapped, her voice suggesting that she was talking to a bug she wanted to squash beneath her shoes.

Yassen put the key down and turned to leave, not wasting any time with a thank you or goodbye. Smiling slightly at the man's brusque attitude he started to follow, but at the last moment he noticed the woman's attention falling on him for the first time. He automatically turned his face away from her and hurried up, but out of the corner of his eye he could see that it was already too late.

She was staring after him, her expression a mix of anger and sadness, and he was starting to think that he could get away with that when suddenly she must have seen something else because her eyes snapped to Yassen, a repulsed and deeply disgusted air about her. Fuck. Her hand was reaching for the phone, the other balled into a tight fist on the counter. She was going to call the police.

He made a split-second decision.

"Gregor!" he called out, jogging to catch up with the Russian who had stopped short at his shout.

The teen could feel the woman's eyes on his back. He smiled brightly, laid his hand on the man's arm and held on to the fabric. Yassen was looking at him sharply, mind racing behind those cool blue eyes.

"I just remembered, in all this chaos I, well, I haven't even thanked you yet," he started in rapid French. "For - for getting me away from..." He swallowed and dropped his gaze for a moment. "From Uncle Frank. And for driving me across the whole country to my sister like this. I know you're going to a lot of trouble for me."

The Russian gave him an unreadable look. The staff lady's stare was burning into Alex's back.

Then Yassen nodded gravely and laid a hand onto the teen's shoulder, squeezing softly. "You're welcome. I should have noticed sooner that Frank..." He trailed off and sighed heavily, shaking his head in obvious regret.

The woman relaxed, her expression changing. Alex saw her hand slip off the phone out of the corner of his eyes.

"Come on," the assassin said, steering the young spy towards the door. "If we want to reach Angela today we'd better hurry."

The teen nooded and allowed himself to be led out onto the parking lot, making a face as he had to step into the cold snow once more. He needed to get some shoes and his own clothes, seriously.

Once they were back in the car, the assassin immediately put the bag into Alex's lap, making the teen stare at him questioningly.

"There are clothes in here," came the explanation.

The young spy gaped. "You... you stole them?"

Yassen raised an eyebrow, his expression as deadpan as Alex had ever seen it. He flushed and ducked his head, turning his attention to the bag. Inside, he found a shirt, pants, socks and shoes, all roughly his size. He wasn't about to change in front of the Russian again - the first time had been bad enough, no need to repeat that - but he gratefully pulled on the socks at least. His feet already felt frozen solid again.

That done, he sunk back into his seat and sighed. "How come people only ever want to help when the last thing I need is attention?"

He'd asked the question more to himself, not really expecting any reaction, but to his surprise Yassen did answer. "When you behave like you have something to hide it makes people take a closer look."

"So instead of asking for help I should try to act as suspiciously as possible?" Alex grumbled.

"Or simply avoid any situations in which you might need help in the first place," the assassin pointed out with a slight smile.

The teen's frown deepened, sure the man was mocking him. "Right, I suppose letting myself get kidnapped, captured, blackmailed or threatened with torture was a bit stupid of me. I'll try to avoid that stuff from now on."

Yassen raised an eyebrow, though he didn't look away from the street. "You really do get into a surprising amount of trouble."

Alex snorted and sank even lower in his seat. "I'm here, aren't I?"