Some would have called it luck. Others, happenstance, or destiny. Yet others, coincidence, or even the hand of God. However, for Ivan and Alfred, the next day was simply one of the worst misfortune, and it was a simple matter of timing that left both of them at the apartment when the knock sounded.

Shoddily dressed and only half-awake, Ivan motioned for Alfred to get the door as he tried to find anything in the apartment to eat. Alfred himself was barely into his work uniform as he hurried to the door, yanking it open to stare in shock at the well-suited man standing there.

"Hello." With a cool, even tone, the man glanced about the apartment, noting the dingy conditions without condescension, though he did hesitate before stepping inside. Ivan copied Alfred's stare as the man entered, then came to his senses before scowling. "Get out."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid I can't. You see, I'm here officially-" Pulling out a sheet of paper from a small folio, he held it towards Ivan, then shrugged. "This is a search warrant, if you must know. I request your permission to search the premises, but should you not give it let me make it quite clear that I will not tolerate to utilize my full legal power."

Alfred and Ivan glanced at each other, but said nothing, watching hawkishly as the man peered into the corners of the room.

"What…What evidence-what grounds do you have for such an investigation?"

"Well, my good sir, there was the simple fact that you were out and about at an extremely unusual hour-" Spinning on his heel, the man looked to Ivan with a beady glare. "And covered in blood. How do you account for that?"

Ivan made a show of rolling his eyes, leaning against the counter. "I was drunk. I had fallen into one of the sewers and had a hell of a time getting out. Would I be arrested for that?"

"Not in this district, no, but the detective on duty noted that you headed straight here-and exhibited no signs of drunkenness. Rather, some searching last night revealed a corpse lying beneath a landfill within only two miles of here, in the direction from which you were returning. Tell me, do you make a habit of killing or is it a recreational hobby?"

"I resent the implication that-" Ivan straightened, tensing, but hesitated as Alfred moved behind the strange man.

"As a law-abiding citizen, I'm sure you wouldn't object to a quick search of the premises, just to make sure you don't have any prohibited weapons, yes?" The man smiled slowly, stepping forward, but stopped short as the back of his skull suddenly shattered. A mixture of shock and pain registered for a brief moment before another blow sent him plunging to the floor, landing with a thud to leave a trembling Alfred holding Ivan's pipe.

Ivan looked to Alfred with eyes wide, nodding slowly. "That…"

"I didn't…I shouldn't have done that, I…"

"You were a damn fool!" Fists clenching, Ivan strode over to Alfred, yanking the pipe from his hand before glancing down at the body. "If you had not done anything, he might have left after a moment or two! Damn it, now they will know where he was going-they will know he came here, and begin-"

"I-I'm sorry, he was moving and he didn't notice me and-oh god, it's so much harder with live ones-is he really-"

"You nearly hit the spinal cord. And with your strength, well, I doubt anything could save him. He only had a few seconds." Ivan shrugged, pausing as he focused on the body. "Find a suitcase."

"What?"

"I said, find a suitcase. Use the one we keep the knives in, I do not care, just get as many of our things as you can. We are traveling light. Anything we can replace, do not pack. Wear as much as you can."

"U-Um…right. Okay." Nodding, Alfred dashed into the other room, leaving Ivan to study the corpse before crouching beside it. He pulled a sleek leather wallet from the pocket, flicking through business cards to remove the wad of dollar bills, then paused as he glanced at the identification.

"Ah. So he was a detective." Standing again, Ivan tossed the wallet onto the man's back, moving to begin clearing out their closets. The furniture, obviously, they didn't need, and the magazines were just waste anyway…Alfred emerged after some time, carrying a few bags, then looked to Ivan.

"Are we taking the…you know, all the stuff?"

"No. The knives and saws would be noticed. And the pipe is a liability anywhere. We will have to start from scratch."

Alfred slowly nodded, heading for the door. "So, um…you want me to get a taxi? There's not much more-"

"Yes. Go ahead. An….excellent plan." Ivan nodded, motioning to him, then tugged on his jacket before doing a final sweep of the apartment. Alfred cautiously left, letting the door fall closed, while Ivan made his way to the kitchen. Running his hands over his pipe one last time, he swung downwards with all his might to hear the hissing sound of leaking gas, a pipe beneath the stove bent nearly in two. He gathered the last of his things, tucking them under his arm, then grabbed a matchbook from a kitchen drawer. Dashing to the door, he opened it and paused to light a single match, tossing it onto the carpet before pulling the door shut and fleeing outside.

Alfred was awaiting him nervously, beckoning to him as a taxi thrummed beside the curb. "Where were you, Russkii, the driver was-"

"Never mind about the driver. Get in." Shoving the shorter man inside, Ivan crawled into the backseat and beckoned for the driver to set off. They had barely pulled away from the curb, however, when a loud sound from behind them made Alfred turn around, eyes wide as he saw the first of the flames begin to burst from the windowframe.

"Ivan-"

"Shut up." Leaning forward, Ivan handed a wad of bills to the driver, nodding once as he accepted the money and drove ever faster. They had managed to escape the ghetto, entering a less shady part of town, by the time the driver thought to speak, asking them for their destination.

"The airport."

"The what?"

"You heard me, Alfred. We are leaving." Ivan nodded, leaning back, and ignored Alfred's face as they neared their destination, the American dumbfounded as he slowly realized the extent of their situation.

O

Finally, a few hours later and a great deal more exhausted than they had hoped to be, Ivan and Alfred had boarded a plane with the barest of their worldly possessions. While Alfred tossed restlessly in his own seat, Ivan read quietly to himself, ignoring the American until the blond turned to him.

"Ivan?" Alfred's voice was barely above a whisper, and Ivan had to strain to hear him.

"What."

"We….killed a man."

"We often do, silly."

"Yeah, but….they're after us now, aren't they. We're on the run."

"I would not say so. We are leaving until the fuss dies down. Staying with relatives. It will all be over, and we can move back."

"But we'll have to go to a different city, right? They'll be on their guard-"

"There was a reason you wanted to stay? You were attached to that city for some reason?"

Alfred shrugged, sitting back. "My parents were buried there. But I guess it really isn't that big of a deal."

"Exactly. No reason to fret. Trust me, by this time next year everything will be as it was." Smiling faintly, Ivan looked up from his book. "We will stay with my sister. You will like her. And then, when we get news, we will return. It is a plan. And we will abide by it, yes?"

"Yeah. A….good plan." Alfred nodded, sinking into his seat, then closed his eyes again in a final attempt to find sleep.