Title: Meet the Parents

Pairing: Frito

Characters: Frau, Cas, Labby, Hakuren, Razette, Shuri, Kurena, Mikhail (Mention: Mikage, Miroku)

Timeline: AU, AHS, TEENZ

Words: 3,222

Other: Unbeta'd. Sorry for mistakes. Translations at end. Part 1 of 2 (This was just getting really long, and I didn't want to update a monster.)

A/N: SORRY ABOUT THE FILLER LAST CHAPTER. Love the love though c: Thanks guys~ Here's this. There are reasons for accents, and I DID NOT forget to write them in for some people at certain parts. Remember that. I'll shut up n ow. HAVE FUN~~

EDIT: Re-Uploaded 'cause of stoopid formatting being stoopid.

"He's got a helluva bigger one than you do, Cass."

"It's not about size, Frau. …I cannot believe I just said that, oh dear god—"

"So how do we get in?"

"Frau, you must be a gentleman and go through the front, obviously. Permission must be asked first, though."

"Permission, shmission, Labby. I got a talented tongue; I'll open her up real quick."

Frau leaned across Castor's lap and rolled down the driver's window, jabbing a finger to the intercom and waved at the camera pointed at the estate's gate entrance.

"Hey! Party of six to see the young lord of the estate."

"Move, you imbecile," Castor hissed, shoving at the blond only to have a younger blond crawl over his back to get his shot at the intercom.

"Hi, my name is Hakuren, and Mikage—"

The gates before them opened quietly, disappearing into the shrubbery surrounding the tall wall.

"…So the secret password is Mikage?" Frau muttered, leaning onto the dashboard to get a better look at the house.

A gravel driveway lead up to the main house: a large structure constructed with mostly Romanesque designs. The surrounding trees were wild and overbearing, casting too much shadow on the estate – with the sun settling into a soft gold and orange, the place looked like a castle from a dark forest in a twisted fairy tale. Castor shoved Hakuren back into his seat, Frau already settled in his place, and slowly eased his vehicle towards the main entrance, where a woman was already waiting for him.

Castor parked the car off to one side, though no one made a move for the doors until he stepped out, and they followed like children frightened of a new place. He took the lead, Frau right at his shoulder, and the rest trailing behind the blond. The woman at the entrance was gone, but the large, wooden door with the serpent knocker was left wide open.

They settled on the carpet of the entrance hall, a basic room with not so basic decorations. The children let their curiosity overpower them, and they wandered. Frau and Castor stayed by the door.

"…what do we do?"

"Shout really loud and see who comes runnin'?"

"That will not be necessary."

The two older teens nearly jumped from their skins and turned quickly to find a petite maid, dressed in the full ruffled ensemble. She bowed respectfully, eyes kept downcast and blank, soft lips pressed into a fine line and entire body rigid. Her soft light brown hair was streaked with natural highlights, pulled properly away from her soft face and dark, almost black eyes. She moved as if every movement had to be considered carefully. Precisely graceful. She walked through the boys and stationed herself in the center of the room, back towards a room furnished with couches and chairs that should be seen but not touched, much less sat on, and even more priceless decorations made of fragile material.

"I recognize the blond one with the strange violet eyes," the tone was delicate and flat, something that hardly rose above a whisper and seemed very much misused. "The rest of you, no."

"My name is Hakuren Oak," the blond freshman presented himself, dragging his cousin by the collar to the maid's line of sight which never left Frau and Castor. "This is my cousin Shuri."

"And my name is Labrador Ilyusha Krat," the fair-haired teen bowed his head, a pleasant smile gracing his features.

"Ah, this is Razette Nöel," Castor took the junior's hand and kept her protectively at his side. "I am Xing-lu Hausen, though please call me Castor, and this—" he vaguely motioned to his blond friend.

"Frau. Pleasure ma'am."

"My name is—"

"Miss Kurena! Absent-minded girl, vhere have you—" From a hallway, hidden to the side of the grand staircase leading to the rooms above, entered a tall gentleman, early thirties, dressed all in black. He had dirty blond hair combed away from his face, though stubborn strands swept across his forehead from the sideways split, and behind thin glasses, his eyes were the color of red wine. He set a gloved hand to his narrow hip, raised an eyebrow, and glared at the group. "Open the door and ze strays just come crawling."

"They are guests of our young master," Kurena explained delicately as the man crossed the carpet to stand at her side. "That is Hakuren and Shuri of the Oak family. Labrador Ilyusha of Krat. Razette of Nöel, Xinglu of Hausen – otherwise known as Castor – and," her lips twitched in an almost smile, "Frau."

"You expect me to believe that the young master affiliates wis," he gestured to Frau vaguely, his nose wrinkled as if smelling something rotting, "zat?"

"Oh, and you're such a pleasure to be around, verdammtes arschloch?"

The man grinned, something feral and not quite sane. "Grebanyy rebenok imeyet gryaznyy rot, delayet eto ne?"

"Sir Mikhail," Kurena's voice, though quiet, cut sharp like a slap. "That is no way to speak to children."

"Yeah," Frau began indignantly, arms crossed across his chest. "If you're gonna insult me, do it in a language I understand."

"YA by ne stal tratit' svoye dykhaniye na tokoy grubyy yazyk."

A subtle elbow was rammed into the butler's gut.

"Fine. So," Mikhail's voice still heavy with his accent, "vhy are zese children dragging dirt all over ze Persian carpet?"

Simultaneously, everyone looked down at their feet. Mikhail coughed quietly into his fist and sought patience from god.

"They are here to see the young master."

"Did you tell zem zat ze young master is ill and should not take visitors?"

"No, because you rudely interrupted me."

"Many apologies, Miss Kurena, but if you've pleasantly forgotten ve run a household, not a daycare."

"The young master," Kurena's tone dropped so darkly that even a bottomless pit would seem light in comparison, and she trained her blank, dark eyes on the older man, "is ill. He has been…not himself in over three days. If this—"

"You do not zink I do not know zat?" Mikhail spat, tone hard and eyes blazing like wicked infernos. "You do not zink—" He bit down on his tongue, looking frenzied and wild as he searched the hard curves of Kurena's face. After a moment, he just looked lost and desperate, though that was quickly discarded for overcompensated anger. "Chert rasstraivayet zhenshchinu! Take zem to ze draving room – I do not want zem tracking dirt everyvhere. Zey vill be promptly escorted off ze estate at five. No later, do I make myself clear, Kurena?"

"Crystal, Sir."

"I shall go to see ze young master. And I vant you in ze kitchen once you're done," Mikhail snapped, clearly agitated, and continued to mutter harsh Russian beneath his breath as he stalked back the way he came in.

"Some snacks'll be much appreciated, Jeeves," Frau called to the man's retreating back, earning him a "yestʹ derʹmo, krestʹyanskiye!" from somewhere deep inside the house. "Seems like a real nice guy," Frau cooed.

Castor eyed him wearily. "You're going to get us thrown out."

"Nah, Kurena gets me."

The maid nodded seriously and gestured up the grand staircase. "If you will follow me."

Every odd trinket and painting they passed was watched with vague curiosity, as if they had taken a field trip to a museum rather than a friend's house. Closed doors lined each side of the wide hallway, and there were many more as the group followed Kurena through the twists and turns of the mansion.

"Miss Kurena," Castor spoke after some time, the seemingly endless corridors twisting his perspective on reality. His own home definitely wasn't built like a maze as this one was. "May I ask a question?"

"Certainly, Lord Castor."

"How many are employed to this estate? It's quite large, yet…empty."

"It is just I and Lord Mikhail."

Castor blanched, where the rest of the group just listened curiously. "Two servants? Just, for all of this? How is this place running?"

Kurena didn't glance over her shoulder, though it seemed as if she had eyed them all anyway. "The young master, he appreciates a clean home – he aids us whenever his studies permit. We tackle it one room at a time."

"But for a home this large, there has to be more help."

"We once had a staff of twenty, Lord Castor." Her tone was flat and emotionless. "But, because of our young master's circumstances, the staff was quite hostile towards him. They were disposed of quickly."

Labrador picked his way across the lush carpet, eyebrows furrowed. "You mean…fired, yes?"

"…yes, of course, Lord Labrador."

"Just Labrador, Ma'am."

"Wait," Frau shoved his way to the front of the line, walking between Castor and Kurena. "What circumstances does Teito have?"

Kurena eyed him with a fish-eyed stare that had the skin crawling down his spine. "That is a story for the young master to tell, Lord Frau. I cannot say without his consent."

They were let into a large, open-aired room, and unlike the rest of the house, it had a more comfortable, lived-in feel. The couches were plush and a basic brown, the low coffee table undecorated. Bookshelves lined any available wall, filled with not only books, but movies, CDs, video games, and the odd toy or picture. There was a built-in fireplace that didn't look used, with a large television hanging over.

Also, unlike the rest of the house, this room was left in neat chaos, with books and games thrown about the table and sofa, artistic tools left wherever-they-may-fall on the table by the windows overlooking a small pond infested with waddling ducks.

"Duckies," Labrador cooed, and that had Razette running towards the large bay windows, shyness be damned.

Hakuren, with Shuri at his side, were sweeping across the bookshelves.

"Think Teito will let me borrow some of these?" Hakuren muttered, turning over an ancient volume of human anatomy in hand.

"He's not a library, Hakuren." Shuri sat on his heels and wriggled out a book on early European conquerors. "I say we just take them."

"Guys," Castor sighed as he dropped himself on the couch, moaning obscenely as he melted into the cushions. "Behave yerselves," he muttered half-heartedly, eyes shut and hanging onto consciousness by a thread.

Frau watched them for a moment, saw that they wouldn't break anything at that precise moment, and turned back to Kurena. "So, Tei?"

The maid narrowed her dark eyes, head tilting back so she could properly look at the tall teen, and made a small noise in the back of her throat that did not sound friendly. "Wait." And she turned around and left.

-Can't love without a fight;

Mikhail padded along the corridors on cat's paws, his presence only stirring the soft motes floating in the dimming afternoon light. He knew the route to his young master's room, every single route, as if there were signs to guide the way. Teito had once owned one of the master bedrooms near the main entrance, something the size of a small apartment building.

It was once the butler had caught wind of the conditions in which his poor young master was living in that he had the rooms changed. No longer was his charge easily accessible, and he was closer to Mikhail's rooms specifically – because of his status, he was separated from the rest of the staff. Even when they were forced to entertain guests, the master of the estate specifically, he never gave away the location of Teito's private rooms – the man didn't need to know anyways.

Mikhail was ecstatic when those barbarians were finally removed from the grounds; Kurena was a devil he could handle, and Teito was happy to have her around, so her presence wasn't too infuriating. And, besides, he did need help keeping the giant house clean.

Americans and their need to have everything big. It was impractical.

A nondescript door was pushed open, well-oiled hinges giving way with barely a whisper. The room was dark, curtains drawn; the soft hissing of a humidifier was the only real noise in the room. Mikhail tapped towards the hidden window, fluffing the drapes open enough to allow a sliver of afternoon sun to peek through. The lump on the four-poster bed didn't stir, and that nearly ticked a smile on Mikhail's cruelly handsome face.

His gloved fingers danced along the oak frame of the bed, the silken Egyptian sheets, and across the rough heavy stitch of a wool blanket. It was peppered with small white snowflakes. Mikhail cupped a thin shoulder over the blanket, skimmed his fingers into chocolate hair. The warm body stirred, and red-rimmed emerald eyes caught onto his, their clear depths swimming with exhaustion and confusion.

"Mi'hal? Wass 'rong?"

"Young master," the butler's voice softened, his usually heavy accent nearly unrecognizable. "How are you feeling today?"

His wine colored eyes strayed to the nightstand by the bed, unoccupied fingers skimming across bright orange bottles and glasses dyed dark – medicine, conventional and not. He knew nothing there would help his young master – he didn't need Kurena's unhelpful little remarks about it, the witch – but a man could hope. He just wanted his young lord to feel better, he wanted to make it right – it wasn't within his power to do so, however.

"Eh, fine, I 'ink." The boy sniffed pathetically, trembling like a leaf on a twisted thin branch. Mikhail raised the quilt higher over the boy. "'ey, Mikhail?"

"Yes, my young lord?"

The boy squirmed like a worm on hot pavement, the request clear in his eyes through refused to pass dry, chapped lips. A smile, warm and kind, pulled at thin lips, and Mikhail raised the wool blanket, slipping beneath it. He settled against Teito's side, well-polished shoes hanging off the edge of the bed. An arm draped over his young charge, keeping it over the sheets and blankets. Teito moved restlessly for a moment but settled warmly against Mikhail, wheezing heavily as he nuzzled against the butler's chest.

"Comfortable?"

"Shuddup."

Mikhail chuckled lightly, hand gentle against the curve of Teito's skull. The blond stayed silent for a long moment, taking in the warmth of the room, bed and body at his side, remembered the cold winter winds he had to endure in his homeland, and pulled the young boy closer. Teito shivered and coughed in turn.

"Young master," he whispered and hoped the words wouldn't be heard. "You've guests waiting for you."

Teito's eyebrows furrowed, lithe body tensed as if preparing for an attack. "…but Mikage's in England."

The butler leaned forward and pressed a smile into tousled hair. "You have more than one friend, my young master."

"…Miroku doesn't count," the brunet's voice dripped with controlled disdain.

"I wasn't referring to your father."

"Don't call 'im that," Teito groaned, drawing his knees up.

"Master Miroku requests—"

"He doesn't request," Teito tucked his chin to his chest. "So who's here?"

"Two young men, three boys and a young lady, I do not remember their names."

"'course you do," Teito sighed heavily, his whole body heaving with the movement. "You even remember how much silverware's in this house."

Two hundred and fifty seven – Mikhail's still certain that the missing forks are hidden somewhere in the library, but he can't find them yet.

"I don't like any of them," the blond muttered into brown locks, stroking Teito's hair gently.

Teito smirked. "I could hear you yelling from here. You like one of 'em."

Mikhail threw himself out of the bed and padded towards the walk-in closet, throwing open the doors and looking over the selection. Nearly everything inside was fine and expensive, some still hanging with their tags and bags, tailored suits still wrapped in paper like Italian deli, and shoes that never touched dirt.

And then there was the smaller section of Teito's more favored clothes, normal pieces bought at the local retail store, well-worn and frayed from over-washing, shoes scuffed with dirt and everyday grime. Mikhail passed his fingers over the generic cotton, rubbing it between the cashmere silk of his gloves.

There was no denying it, his young master was unique and worth every hardship it took Mikhail to escape his demons.

A basic tee, with a cartoon of a pony, and some loose sweatpants were acceptable clothing to greet Teito's friends, Mikhail thought, as they were unimportant and didn't warrant his young master's efforts to look proper. He brought them to the bed, where the brunet was already sitting up, rubbing his fists against his swollen eyes. Mikhail could tell the young boy felt horrible, and asked him again if he was well enough to receive guests.

"I think I know who 'ey are," he mumbled around a yawn, "Or, some of 'em. Is one of 'em named Hakuren?"

"Yes, my young master."

"And…," the boy chewed on his bottom lip. "Another one's named Frau?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"I should meet 'em, an' give Haku the bio report due Monday."

Mikhail fitted the shirt over Teito, his hand passing down the purple unicorn telling the word to read a book. "Today is Monday, young master."

Emerald eyes were startled wide, shining bright and more alive than the past three days. "Wha?"

"Kurena went to the school with your report, my lord. Settle down, think of your health." He took Teito's hands into his own and helped the boy onto his feet. "If you are feeling unwell, say the word and I'll have them all thrown out."

"'mm hungry, Mikhail." The boy said it meek and weakly, and it tugged harshly against the butler's heartstrings. He squeezed his young charge's hand, and led him out of the suffocating room.

"That's good, young master. Your appetite returning can only mean that you are getting better. Come, Kurena should have deposited the delinquents in your drawing room by now."

"Be nice."

"As you wish, young master."

They met with Kurena in the hall, the two servants nodding seriously to one another.

"Did you—?"

"Yes, Sir Mikhail. Do not question my intelligence."

The silence that followed thicken, with the two attempting to intimidate each other with a stare alone, though Mikhail had his upper lip raised, snarling quietly like a wolf on the prowl.

"Okay, I get it," Teito coughed weakly into his fist, the other tightening around Mikhail's hand. "Scary Russian mobster and Romanian assassin, living under one roof, butting heads, taking names, all in the name of their young herre. I wanna sit down. Can I sit down?"

"Te pot ucide în somn," Kurena muttered softly, words flowing smoothly between her lips.

"Poprobuy menya, suka," Mikhail snapped, feral grin threatening to stretch.

Teito swayed in place, and the blond stepped in to support the young boy.

"I can understand everything you're saying, guys. You're not allowed to fight," the brunet sighed heavily, a hand braced against his head to keep it upright, "and you're not allowed to kill each other."

"Of course, young master."

"Whatever you wish, moya ptitsa." He offered Teito's captured hand to Kurena, and the exchange was made. "I'll go prepare a light meal for you, and some snacks for our guests."

"Come, young master. They're expecting you."

"Thanks," Teito sniffed, blinking away reflexive illness tears. "Both of you. Thank you."

Frau (German):

verdammtes arschloch - fucking asshole

Mikhail (Russian):

grebanyy rebenok imeyet gryaznyy rot, delayet eto ne?
гребаный ребенок имеет грязный рот, делает это не?
fucking child has a dirty mouth, does it not?

YA by ne stal tratit' svoye dykhaniye na tokoy grubyy yazyk
Я бы не стал тратить свое дыхание на такой грубый язык
I would not waste my breath on such a coarse language

Chert rasstraivayet zhenshchinu!
Черт расстраивает женщину!
Damn frustrating woman!

yestʹ derʹmo, krestʹyanskiye
есть дерьмо, крестьянские
eat shit, peasant!

ispytay menya , suka
испытай меня, сука
try me, bitch

moya ptitsa
моя птица
my bird

Kurena (Romanian):

te pot ucide - i can kill you

Teito (Danish):

herre - lord

a/n: no, they're not really a russian mobster and romanian assassin. [coughs]