AN : Finally! A somewhat longer chapter. It will compensate for the one that will come after this one.
The two new characters introduced will stay mysterious for the moment, but you can probably guess who at least one of them is easily. Also, I absolutely love writing Lars. And Antonio. And Vash. I'd never want such a team to work somewhere close to me though, for I'd lose the little sanity I have left.

Lasst mich ruhen! (German) Let me rest!

Word count : 1594

He should have known it. Antonio was the kind of person to not listen to what was good for him. Not at all. Here, it involved staring at him for a few seconds, and then run in the direction he had absentmindedly pointed the way of mere seconds before. He was tired of running, damn! Didn't the Spaniard understand that not everybody was as sportive as he was? And what if he'd get into another pinch? He cursed everything from Antonio's exaggerated sense of justice to his sister's influence (who was the main reason he had given the police a shot to begin with) to criminals to his life to God and to everything else that was unfortunate enough to come to his mind.

When Antonio arrived at the first building in record time, he stopped a few seconds to breath and pant heavily. Then, he ran in and towards the elevator, pressing the button next to which was written '8th floor', and waited. Once he arrived, he stormed out, and collided with something... someone who was about a head taller than himself. He looked up, hurriedly muttered 'I'm sorry', and ran past.

"Damn, kid! Can't ya be a little more careful?" The tall man turned around, saw him run off towards the stairs that would lead him to the roof, and looked at the other man behind him. "Hey. Did we remove everythin'?" he asked, concerned, to which the shorter man growled. "Of course. It's not like it's the first time we do that."

The tall man rapidly glanced back at the door, and muttered "Yeah, but ya never know what can happen... D'ya think he'll remember us?"

The shorter decided it was time for the both of them to move, walked pass him, whispered. "You didn't see how determined he was. He almost didn't notice he ran into you, Vipera." He spat the name acidly. "We'll be gone before he comes back from the roof." He was about to press the button of the elevator when he noticed the characteristic 'ding' of the engine, and another man, a little taller this time, walking out.

"Excuse me! Have you seen a man, about this tall, with curly hair and-"

The shorter man pointed at the door. "Roof." he said, annoyed.

For a second, Lars thought the person in front of him must have been related to Vash in a way, but Antonio had probably just ran into him, like he happened to do sometimes. Whatever it was, he thought it would be better to leave him alone, and headed for the rooftop, leaving the two other men behind.

"We should leave now." The shorter man walked into the elevator, tugging the other's sleeve so he followed him. With another 'ding', the doors closed.

(- -)

"What do you mean 'you're sure it was here'?"

"Of course! Look, it's very easy to see where we were from here!" Antonio stopped and stared, his hand a little above his eyes as if it could help him see better. "Isn't that Vash? The white and yellow... thing, over there, I mean."

Lars pinched the bridge of his nose while he sighed once more, as he so often did around the younger man. "… I won't tell him you said that." He paused. "Anyway, do you really think someone in their right mind would go on a rooftop two hundred meters away to shoot at somebody who's about to kill a policeman?"

"They might very well not know we were policemen!"

Lars pointed at Antonio. "Okay, let's admit they didn't see or recognize our uniforms. The first part of my question still has no valid answer."

"They didn't have to be normal either!" Antonio added, as if this would be the argument of the century, which, coming from him, wasn't all that much surprising. He was persuaded he was right ! There was a perfect view, and if he knelt down he could have shot very easily with a sniper rifle from where he was.

"And why so far away, then?"

"Well, maybe..." he pondered what he was about to say for a few seconds. "Maybe they didn't want to be found out to fast!" He looked around for whatever clue he could find. "Do you have an idea how long it takes to clean every possible evidence of a crime away?"

Lars sighed. Heavily. He was not going to get home in the next hours, he just knew it. And with all the paperwork that was waiting for him... If he wanted to argue with Antonio now, he would just get a nasty migraine. He didn't need one right now, nor later.

"Okay, you win. So, if he was killed by someone with a sniper rifle on this rooftop, and I said 'if', then they must have been a professional. He was shot in the head, after all."

Antonio nodded.

"So, if he was killed by a professional, they must have known how to clean everything professionally." Antonio stared at him as if his statement had been no help at all. It hadn't. Lars sighed again. "I would guess five to ten minutes, but I honestly have no idea."

"That's at least something. From when he was shot to when the ambulance came, it was about twelve minutes. That's what you told me."

"Yes, if you'd live with Amélie for at least a week, you'd understand why I'm always checking my watch." The Spaniard chuckled. "I trust you. I'm guessing your conversation with Vash lasted three or four minutes, so we'll say it took about a quarter of an hour. The time we needed to run up here might have been about thirty seconds-" "I don't think so. You forget that an elevator is not as fast as you are, and that there are eight floors plus the stairs. I'd say about three to four minutes." They stared at each other, before whispering simultaneously "Eighteen minutes...". It was long. The culprit was probably already gone.

Another moment of silence passed.

(- -)

"Yes, Svenja, I know! I promised but-"

"It's a corpse, a corpse! Unlike in movies, it's rather impressive the first time-"

"Svenja! Don't go to the mortuary! It's not something you should..."

Vash interrupted his argument when he got the characteristic beep as his only response. "...see..."

Why on Earth had he ever promised to make her discover his work! Aside from the fact that they would both get into trouble with his boss and that she was too young to be even remotely close to deaths and that he didn't want her to see things like this... She was so stubborn! When he looked up, he noticed Antonio was running somewhere, and Lars following him with a little distance, shouting something along the lines of 'Come back here! Your wounds! You moron!'

He really was surrounded by idiots. Most of them not even able to do their job properly. What would they do if he weren't a forensic scientist? Sometimes, he felt like he was too good with people. At least he could sometimes let a little steam off on this particular corrupted politician or this serial killer who they never found the murderer of... But still! Svenja was young, and innocent! There was no way he would let her face deaths! Not again!

"TONI! I'm telling you he's probably already gone!"

Vash looked up. That had been Lars's voice, quite unmistakably. He put his cellphone back into his pocket, and stared at the approaching form of Antonio. When he saw the bandages, he could only think that he'd been damn lucky. And also that he would have a lot of paperwork to do ; it was never fun to be hurt by a criminal.

"Vash! Vash!" the Spaniard shouted from afar. He would have the time to flee if he ran away now... "Excuse me, miss... Hey! Vash, wait!" And suddenly, Antonio was in front of him, after a strange jump he'd executed to get over the 'keep out' bands, and was grinning widely. He opened his mouth to ask-

"No. I squarely refuse. Whatever it is." Antonio looked at him strangely, almost as if he didn't get the rebuff. "I have work to do. You have work to do. Now leave before I shoot you." Unfortunately for Vash, this threat wasn't as impressive as a few years ago. Since he'd started working for the law, he couldn't just kill someone on the spur of the moment.

Although Antonio had tempted him to do so more often than he liked to remember (like many people tended to do).

But he couldn't lose his job! Who would take care of Svenja, if he did? She would never be able to sustain them both with the little job at that (creepy) bar she had!

"It's just..." Antonio hesitated for a second. Was Vash's wrath worth the trouble?... Yes. "Do you think you could kill someone from this building over there?" The Swiss looked at where Antonio was pointing. He pondered over it for a second. "Might be possible. But only a good sniper, if you ask me. Someone used to it. Now you'll excuse me, I have to leave." And somehow persuade Svenja not to follow me...

He walked away, took the keys of his car out of his pocket, opened it. As he sat down on the leather-clad seat, he paused for a few seconds.

Idiots, giving him so much work. As if he didn't already have enough troubles...

Svenja Rosenblut [24] is Vash's adoptive little sister, somewhat. I didn't want to stick to Heidi or Lily for Liechtenstein, so I took a very different German name I like a lot. If you're wondering, it's pronounced "Sven-yah", with the "e" like in the word "Yeah". Her parents died years ago and since then he takes care of her. He promised her to take her to his job once, when he was a little tipsy. Just a bit, because Vash doesn't drink a lot. She works at the Hungary, of course, as a little side job beside her studies.

AN : The conversation between them in italic is in Swiss German, but I am unable to write that, and italics are easier. I have no idea how long it takes for professionals to clean away every trace of a murder, and I'm not that much of a sniper rifle expert either, so we'll all have to deal with that. By the way, I am encouraging nobody to commit murder, it is a terrible act. Please don't read this and get any wrong ideas! (Yes, I just thought about that now.)