Alfred let Ivan drive the car. Honestly, It was only cause he himself sucked at driving. He was okay on the country roads where he could swerve and speed to his heart's absolute content, but the city's restrictive ways never did settle properly with him. He was used to running red lights and parking on a shopping cart or two, but this waiting crap got to him the most. Exactly the reason he ran reds in the first place. Snorting and huffing out his anger, Alfred leaned against the window and only finally started to daydream about something other than Art when a certain Commie, ya know my bestie, swerved the vehicle on the opposite direction of their first lead. "Sorry, da, I hate waiting so I decided on a short cut." Smiling, Alfred realized why he couldn't refuse this sidekick in the first place. Even though his motto was "Better Dead Than Red" this guy proved continously he could be equally blue. And what's the American flag without a bit of red anyway? Monitoring Ivan's driving and route choices, he realized Ivan was just as gifted with the back streets as himself, If anything, a bit more. But only a bit, and only with alleyways the size of a toothpick anyway. Removing his glasses, Alfred observed the lens. They had scuffs and scraches galore, all their own battlescar. For some reason, his eye sight never changed, and with that, he never needed a new pair.
"Alfred, you seem to clean those glasses alot, maybe you should think about replacements, after all, there's only so much American's can do before they ruin it beyond repair. Sadly, you are blond as well as American, so I can only imagine the trauma those have experienced in their long life." Of course, ignoring what I said completely, Alfred said/uttered angrily a 'thanks jackass', and returned to his useless efforts towards those destroyed eye assissters. I truly wished to reach over and throw them out the vehicle. But like most things, Ivan had to hold back his anger. He had never experienced such frustration with anyone else except his sister, Natalia. She was to scary to explode on, and Alfred was becoming too much an annoyance to even fight with. So he avoided it as cautiously as Alfred did when at McDonalds, which his doctor forced him to stop eating after he expericenced his first heart attack and realized that he had major health issues developing. He also found that heart problems ran in the family, almost as much the obsession for fattening, artificial foods. Suffering truly since his discovery, Fredka worked towards his health and tried dieting. Actually, Yao and Ivan had to enforce it. They found out he had returned back to devouring junk in minimal 2 to 3 days. He came to work and almost passed out from an extreme amount of pain in his chest. It was a warning sign from death himself, and it made Ivan realize how much of a good friend the idiot actually was.
Not even to mention Yao was there on a random visit that very day, and actually started crying. Ever since, the pair tried to watch Alfred with a close set of eyes, ones that didn't need any assistance from a set of two way mirrors. Stopping the car in front of the house, Alfred bolted out, followed closely but slowly by Ivan. The run down home was their first lead, and Alfred wanted to open that door first, the quicker than anticipated ride making him pumped and feeling absolutely dedicated. Knocking loudly as always with a repetitive and trained motion, the American peered through the peep hole, looking for something incriminating. If a mess equaled murder, which in some cases it does, this would totally be their dude.
"Can you ever not be obnoxious for once in your life Fredka?"
"Communist, did I ask you to critique me?"
"No, da, but your limp gay wrist when you knocked on that door was begging for it."
"Vanya needs his pacifier, no fear, we'll just have Yao pull down his panties!"
"Do I have to-"
"Can I fucking help you?"
Turning their attention towards the door, they saw a man with dark brown hair and sunglasses staring directly at them. His eyes peered through the black material glass. Alfred cleared his throat, " Um we are here to ask you a few questions, and, if you don't mind search around a bit." Alfred was obviously thrown off a bit by how much he and this man looked a like. He really was in shock, so Ivan filled in for the moment. Seriously, he didn't even introduce them. " Sorry da, my comrade is not feeling to well today, he forgot to have his coffee. Or rather he can't have his coffee" Insert America Glare Here "I would like to introduce myself, I am Detective Ivan Braginvinski, and this is the man in charge Detective Alfred F. Jones. As previously stated, we want to ask a few questions and just wander around a bit. " Now that basics are over, hopefully he'll let us in. " Fine. Make it quick though."
Francis watched Arthur closely. He was sitting on the floor and was sewing a sweater of some sort. Francis always liked messing with the brits knitting work, espically when he was so consumed and distracted by it. Arthur suddenly leaned himself on Francis' leg, putting himself cutely in between the gap of both his legs since he was sitting there with them spread. This was rare. Looking at the briton, he began petting his head. There was no way to describe how happy he was truly feeling in this fluffy moment. Almost as suddenly as when he leaned on the frenchmen, Arthur pulled himself onto his lap. Arthur sat there looking at Francis, eventually turning his face towards him so he could stare at him directly and totally. Moving in, Arthur started making out with the stunned frenchie, who kissed back with thousands more control and technique. Francis was now on top of Arthur, putting him pinned on the sofa, watching him like a predator to a prey. Assaulting his pale neck and loving the taste, he swore he could feel the brit buck his waist upwards, and took that as the sign he had been so itchingly waiting for. Moving his hands down lapin's pants, a sudden ringtone burst out, the song Maroon 5's Animals and oddly fitting the moment.