The Spaniard

Elizaveta's first reaction is nothing. She stands, phone to her ear, staring at the wall in front of her for all of two seconds before she hangs up quickly and races to the kitchen window. Her heart pounds, and her eyes scan frantically for anyone or anything thing out of the norm outside. The only thing that seems suspicious is that Alfred's patrol car is gone and Elizaveta, for once, wishes it were there. She backs away and goes to the tiny window in the living room where Gilbert usually sits with is coffee and finds only the brick wall of the neighbouring complex. Finally she checks the window in the bedroom where the fire escape but sees nothing but brick buildings and the night sky.

The phone rings again.

Elizaveta grabs her purse and leaves the phone ringing as she powerwalks to the elevator. Telling herself not to panic is useless because she can barely hear her own thoughts over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. If she can get to her car, get to her parent's house, then perhaps she'll feel safer.

The night air hits her in a gust of cold wind, but she refuses to go back upstairs and grab a jacket. Instead, Elizaveta grabs her dress at the sides and runs across the street, glancing in every direction to see if someone is following her. Yellow streetlights line the pavement, and all she sees are frost-covered cars and the empty, icy sidewalk, but it doesn't keep her from sprinting. In fact, Elizaveta moves even faster due to the ominously vacant streets, and nearly jumps into her car and slams the door. She inhales sharply, face flushed from the cold outside, and quickly starts her car. She makes sure to lock the doors and glances out of every window while it warms.

When her cell phone rings, Elizaveta nearly reels back in surprise. She glances at her apartment window, but opens her purse carefully. The phone rings and vibrates as she pulls it out and looks at the screen before tossing it on the passenger seat and quickly putting the car in gear. Regardless of the cars warmth (or lack of it), the brunette quickly peels off, hitting her tire a glancing blow on the curb as she makes a hasty exit.

She fumbles with the defroster and flicks on her windshield wipers to clear the frost from her view. The car is still freezing, and her breath comes out in rigid huffs of vapor as she swerves around the corner. Her eyes dance rapidly between the road and her mirrors, though it seems she's alone on the street tonight. When her phone finally stops blaring, Elizaveta doesn't give whoever is calling her a chance to dial again. In her fright she calls Ludwig.

"Where are you?" The blonde sounds stressed, but Elizaveta throws her head back in gratitude at hearing the aggravation in his tone. If something does happen, at least she has a witness.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," she informs him, checking her rearview member and then looking ahead again.

There is a pauses and then he ask, "Are you rushing? You sound a bit breathless."

Elizaveta checks her mirrors again. A car turns out from the side street she just passed and her grip on the steering wheel tightens. "Something like that, yes. I'll tell you when I get there."

"Okay, I'll see you when you get here."

"Wait!" Elizaveta calls out, desperate at the finality in his tone. "Don't hang up."

His tone changes immediately. "What's going on, Elizaveta?"

"I just," the car is still behind her. "I miss Gilbert and I don't want to be alone." Elizaveta mouths a curse at her own lie and bites her lips. She still has time to tell him, but her thoughts processes are in shambles. Just a little longer and she'll be safe at her parents' house. Elizaveta prays, actually prays, that all of the lights that she has to go through are green.

"Liz," Ludwig's voice is much softer and it contrasts greatly with the blood vigorously pumping through her veins. "I'll stay on the phone if you need me too."

"Please," she begs, and hates the way her voice cracks. Ludwig doesn't say anything and she assumes he thinks the noise is due to his brother.

The light in front of her turns yellow, and Elizaveta holds her breath as she floors the accelerator. The car speeds up, and even without looking out the window, she can see the headlights of the other car following steadily behind. Come on. Come on! her mind cries, and she could have burst into tears as the light goes from yellow to red. Her foot moves to the brake, and Elizaveta wills her eyes forward. Don't look, she warns herself, and squeezes the phone tight. The lights behind her shift the shadows on the ground and she can tell the other car is moving towards hers. Still, she refuses to look. The light shifts to her left, glaring at her from the side mirror, and she can see in her peripherals that the car is attempting to pull alongside her.

Don't look! Don't look! Her anxiety is slowly manifesting itself as nausea in her gut, and Elizaveta is positive she's going to hurl as her throat goes horribly dry. In a useless effort to get away, she inches closer to the intersection, willing the red light to burn green as the car behind her tries to maneuver between the narrow area between her car and the sidewalk.

"Ludwig, I," Elizaveta's voice feels so hoarse as the nose of the other car manages to squeeze in the small space. Against her own judgment, she looks out of the side mirror. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" The concern in Ludwig's voice is evident as she tries to tell herself to breathe.

"For," Elizaveta starts, but the light turns green and she pauses to slam on the gas. The tires screech as she zooms off and gets on the interstate. "For leaving you with my mother," she finishes lamely and quickly changes lanes, blending into traffic to avoid the other car.

Ludwig huffs. "As you should be. She's only left me alone when I politely excused myself to answer your call," he informs her, then lowers his voice to add, "I know you and your mother don't get along well, but at least if you're here, you won't feel alone."

"Thank you, Ludwig." Elizaveta says, and means it because the car is lost in the sea of other vehicles on the interstate. She can't see it when she gets off at her exit and, finally, her breathing is at somewhat normal, thanks to the useless conversation she and Ludwig had until she makes it to her parents' home. As she gets out of the car, she checks for anyone following before going inside.

"Eliza, dear God, you and Roderich were supposed to be here a while ago." Elizaveta visibly cringes as her mother greets her, a glass of champagne in her hands, and judging by the faint flush on her cheeks, she guesses that the woman is probably drunk already.

"I'm perfectly capable of driving myself, mother, thank you," the brunette responds, and tries to weave through the crowd. "Where's Ludwig?"

Her mother follows and places a hand on her shoulder so she doesn't trip. "Oh, I don't know. I lost track of him after he said he was going to call you. There's this Miss Something or other over there." She points her glass to a petite blonde woman talking to her brother. "She's been eyeing Ludwig all night long. Little tramp."

Elizaveta tilts her head incredulously towards her mother and blinks. "But what does that have to do with you? You have a husband, don't you?"

Her mother scoffs and drinks a gulp of champagne. "Eliza, I'm older, not dead or blind." She grins cheekily and shrugs one shoulder. "Ludwig is a nice looking man. Plus, I think he can do better."

"Unbelievable," Elizaveta responds, and attempts to walk away again when her mother tugs at her shoulder to stop her. "Yes, mother."

Her mother ignores the tone of her voice and looks around, "Where's Roderick? I've been meaning to ask him about his next concert."

The Hungarian woman sighs and glances about briefly, not emotionally stable or drunk enough to deal with her parent at the moment. "I don't know, I just got here."

"He didn't come with you—oh, Ludwig!" Her mother steps around her and loops her arm into the blond German's. He stiffens immediately, though Elizaveta highly doubts her mother even noticed. "We were just talking about you! Mm, feels like you've gained a muscle or twice since you left." The old woman tosses her head back in laughter and sits her champagne glass down once a server passes, only to pick up another a moment later. She sips and points a finger at her daughter.

"You go find Roderich for me, please? I'll keep Luddy company until you get him for me."

"Maybe he's hiding from you," she mumbles before speaking up. "I don't know. They're so many people here, I probably wouldn't be able to locate him."

"I'll help you." Ludwig jumps at the chance and peels himself away from the woman clinging to his arm. Elizaveta smiles and holds her own arm for him to take, and they walk off before her mother can think to refute it. They're a few steps away out of earshot due to the amount of noise before Ludwig speaks again.

"…Liz," he starts but she just chuckles.

"I told you," she says smugly.

"She's been following me all evening." They come to the middle of the ballroom, where Elizaveta leans against a column.

"Don't worry," she says and moves to open her purse. "At she hasn't grabbed your ass."

Ludwig is uncharacteristically silent, and when she looks up from rummaging in her purse, she sees that he's looking away with a blush on his cheeks.

"She did, didn't she…"

Silence.

"Oh my God, Ludwig!" Elizaveta only laughs when he glares at her. "I really am sorry I left you with her." She takes out her phone and closes her purse before scrolling through her contacts.

Ludwig finally composes himself enough to speak. "Who are you calling?"

"Roderich," she informs and holds the phone to her ear. "He and mother are like two peas in a pod. He'd never been late for these things or miss them without having a good reason and telling ahead of time."

"I heard he has a tendency to get lost." Ludwig snorted and takes two glasses of wine as a server passes by. He nods his thanks and hands one to Elizaveta.

She takes it and sips as the phone rings before going to voice mail. "True…" she says absently, "But that's why he has a driver."

"Fancy."

"Rich people." Elizaveta tries calling again but still receives no answer. It's unlike him to not be here, and even more unlike him for to not answer his phone. Roderich may be a spoiled man, but above all, he was punctual. She regards her phone with a bit of worry in her eyes and sampled more of the red wine in her glass. Where could he be and why didn't he inform anyone?

"Ms. Hedevary." Elizaveta snaps her head up at the cheerful voice and sees Alfred walking over to her, dressed in a rather nice tuxedo. He waves as he steps up to her and Ludwig. "You look nice. I can barely see your house arrest bracelet!"

Elizaveta glances over at Ludwig, who looks back at her with a glint of amusement in his gaze. She rolls her eyes at him and turns back to Alfred. "What are you doing here, Officer Jones?"

He snorts and looks down at his tuxedo, "To eat, duh! Oh, cream puffs!" He snags one off the silver tray that passes by and pops it in his mouth before continuing, "And I'm off duty so I'm just Alfred tonight, or Al or Alfie, but I like Al better, you know. Well, I guess I should just call you Liz, right? That's what people call you, isn't it?" He smiles with a mouth full of cream puff, and Elizaveta tries not to look bothered by him using such a personal pet name. Very few people called her that, one of whom is standing next to her, and the other is missing.

"Elizaveta," she corrects him, "But Ludwig and I have to-,"

"Luddy!" Alfred ignores her and points a finger at the other blond as if he knows him. "You're Gil's brother right? I remember reading about you. You're not hiding him, are you?" Alfred jokes and gives Ludwig's shoulder a playful nudge. "C'mon, it was a joke, or is it true that Germans don't get jokes? I mean, I've never met a lot of Germans but people say that you guys are so stiff, man." He nudges Ludwig again, trying to win support, but gives up after the man offers nothing. He changes the subject. "Dude, do you work out?"

That serves to make the German come alive a bit. "Six days a week, yes."

"You ever think about joining the force? We could use someone as intimidating looking as you."

"I've heard it doesn't take much." Ludwig shrugs and swirls his wine, "Just a high school diploma and passing a physical fitness test."

Alfred beams with excitement, "Yeah, that's right dude. Anybody can do it, if you're strong enough."

"Smart enough too, I hope." He says this with a raised brow, and Alfred shrugs and snags a shrimp roll.

"I guess. I mean, some people they hire are complete idiots though."

"I can imagine."

Elizaveta chuckles at the jab and the fact that Alfred obviously missed it, as he's nodding in agreement. God, how did he even make it on the force to start with?

"Seriously though," Alfred starts again, "You should consider it."

"Consider what?" Vash cuts in and adjusts his tie.

Elizaveta turns to him with a sarcastic smile, "Vash, I didn't know you were bringing a date!"

Vash looks confused for a moment before looking at Alfred and then back to her with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms and looks toward the wall before glancing at her sideways. "He's not here with me. He's with Lili."

Elizaveta blinks, and then blinks again as if she didn't hear him. She looks between Vash and Alfred, who's sporting one of his all-American poster boy smiles. "Lili? As in, your little sister Lili? As in, the same Lili you wouldn't let the Mayor's son date because he didn't look strong enough?"

"Ravis was too wimpy for her!" Vash quickly defended. "He cried when he saw I had a gun."

"You pointed it in his face!"

"Yes, well, he should have stood his ground or at least defended himself. What if a robber or someone else had done that while they were on a date? He'd probably sacrifice Lili to save his own skin."

She looks back to Alfred, who's still grinning, though his eyes are darting to the food moving around him. "And you're okay with him?" Before Vash can offer his explanation, her phone rings. She barely gives it a glance before excusing herself. At this point, anything is a good excuse to get away from Alfred.

Elizaveta squeezes through the crowd and out into the hall, a quieter place to answer. She looks at the caller ID, and her heart nearly stops at the private number. Her head snaps up quickly and she glances around the hallway, not even sure who or what she's looking for. The phone stops and, for a moment, Elizaveta just looks at it, unsure what to do. When it starts ringing again, she jumps. Of course, it's the same private number, and no doubt the same person who's been calling her. She holds her breath as she presses the talk button and holds the phone to her ear.

"Who is this?" she demands. "Why do you keep calling me and not saying anything? I'm going to the police if you don't say something."

Click. The phone hangs up again, and she pulls it away to see white numbers blinking at her before the screen goes back. She exhales, exhausted, and rubs her eyes. Lately she's been crying more than usual, though nothing happened and there is theoretically nothing for her to be emotional over, her mind seems to want to react to everything with crying. Her nerves are shot from the phone call earlier and the car that followed her. Elizaveta digs at her eyes, trying to stop even one tear frm forming. Stop, stop, stop! She shouts to herself and exhales again, slower this time to call her ragged nerves.

"Pull yourself together, Elizaveta," she sniffs to herself. "You're not some damsel in distress. You're stronger than this, so stop with the crying. "

Another deep inhale and just as she exhales, a hand comes over her mouth while another clutches her waist, pulling her close to whoever stood behind her. Her breath hitches, eyes widen, and Elizaveta's first reaction is to try screaming, but the assailant shuffles backwards quickly, away from the ballroom doorway and anyone who could help. She attempts screaming anyway, clawing at the hand over her mouth and even attempting to bite it. But the person only presses the hand harder against her mouth, forcing her lips closed and nearly covering her nostrils. They round the corner and she half expects to find someone else there. Instead, she hears the click of a door opening and is ushered into her father's library. The person leans against the door as it's closed and then locks it. Elizaveta's eyes dance around the room as they stand in silence, her pressed against this intruder pressed against the door. It's almost ridiculous, like a scene from a movie. But this is no movie, this is real; she's just been kidnapped, to an extent, and she doesn't know what to do and the room is too dark for her to properly see, even with the curtains drawn back and the nightlights outside her house casting shadows on the bookcases.

"Lo siento. Don't scream," the person—no man, finally says in her ear and the voice is accented and foreign. "I'm going to move my hand from your mouth but if you scream, I'm putting it back. I don't want to have to hurt you." An almost pleading quality softens his voice and she nods dumbly to his request.

The hand moves away slowly, but the man still holds her waist. Elizaveta inhales, gulping in air like she's drowning, and tries to tell herself to remain calm. "There are police here, you know, cameras all over the property if you try anything."

"I think I'll be fine, amigo," the man counters. "I've eluded people for a long time. It's become sort of a skill. But we only have five minutes to talk so I suggest you ask relevant questions."

Elizaveta stiffens. "Antonio?" she asks in disbelief.

He chuckles once and she can feel his chest moving against her back. "Don't waste time on questions you already know the answer too."

She nods and thinks. "Why did you come find me?"

"Because you're looking for me," Antonio answers. "It was easier this way."

"How'd you know I was looking for you?"

Antonio pauses and she hears and feels him huff behind her. "Is this what you really want to know? You have four minutes."

"No," Elizaveta answers honestly and ask the one question she's been dying to know the answer too. "Do you know where Gilbert is?"

"Lo siento, I don't," he states and, for a moment, she senses his disappointment. "But I can tell you that you won't find him and it's better if you stop looking."

Elizaveta tries to turn her head to look at him over her shoulder but can only make out the brown leather jacket he's wearing. "Why would you say that?" she demands. "Does that have to do with Lovino Vargas and why you went into hiding? Is he hiding from Lovino?"

Antonio is silent for a moment and Elizaveta feels a swell of victory at shocking him with the information she knew and a bit of unease at possibly being right.

At length, he finally says, "I said that because you're drawing attention to yourself from people you don't want attention from. This is a lot more complicated than you think, Elizaveta. Three minutes."

Elizaveta sighs in frustration but contains herself and tries to think reasonably. "Who are these 'people'? Is Gil in some kind of trouble with them?"

"The short answer is yes. As for who they are, I don't have time to explain."

"Fine, well," She tries to come up with something, anything. "What happened with you two and Francis in college? Why did you and Gilbert suddenly disappear?"

"The same reason he's running now."

"This isn't making sense!" she exclaims, her frustration getting the best of her now. "You're answering me without giving answers. What do you mean for the same reason? What was the reason?"

"You don't want the answer to that question."

"Yes I do, Antonio. Please, I need to know."

Antonio pushes off the door and before she can ask, turns her around and she's meet with gold-tinted green eyes looking down at her sincerely. "What you're asking for is a lot more than an answer to a question."

She furrowed her brows, "I don't understand…"

He looks away as if he's contemplating telling her. " The answer is more than I can explain in a five minute conversation in a library and involves a lot more than you just playing private eye. There's a syndicate, all underground stuff. Once you join, you have no identity, no phone numbers, permanent address or even a real name."

With a bit of apprehension, Elizaveta asks, "What does this syndicate do?"

Antonio grunts and shakes his head, "You ask too many question, mi amigo. It's a messy business, Elizaveta, and Gil got himself messed up real bad." He pauses and grabs the door handle. Antonio looks at her, eyes serious and lips thin, "I came looking for you because if I didn't find you, they would have. I know what Gil is doing, and I'm sure he's trying to protect you, but leaving you like that was reckless. Despite all that happened, he's still mi amigo."

Elizaveta opens her mouth to protest when he opens the library door, but Antonio presses his hand against her mouth to shut her up. "If you really want to find Gil, you're gonna have to give up some things and do some things that you might not like," he says. "And if you're not prepared to do that, then I suggest you stop while you're ahead. Stop looking for him, for me, stopping exploring questions you won't like the answer too. It's not a game for little rich girls to play dress-up in, this is life, real life."

Elizaveta huffs indignantly and moves his hand away, glaring at him in the process. "I'm not playing dress-up. I know what I'm getting into." She defends herself heatedly, but he just laughs without humor and shakes his head.

"No you don't."

"Yes, I do," she bluffs.

He opens his mouth but closes it quickly and stands up a bit straighter. Antonio's lips quirk just slightly in the dark, and Elizaveta catches the light reflecting off an emerald iris. The coolness in that half-glimpse makes her stand a bit straighter as well. He's going to do something, she can feel it, and just as she expects he takes a step forward. Her first reaction is to scream, but Antonio is far too quick, so all she manages is a muzzled squeal effectively blocked by his hand over her mouth (again). Her back is harshly shoved against the door and accompanied by the cool feeling of metal pressed just under her chin. Antonio's so close that their noses touch. She smells sandalwood on his skin and she's sure he can hear the ramped-up pounding of her heart as she stares at him in a panic. But his eyes are blank and he's frowning, which isn't really the look of some deranged killer about to blow off her head. So she tries to force tense muscles to relax and Elizaveta tries to move her hand. Antonio forces her head up with the barrel of the gun until she stills.

"No," he breathes against her ear, "You don't."

Elizaveta mumbles against his hand and he moves away just enough for her to speak.

"What if I want to?" she asks breathlessly, and much to her delight, Antonio backs away.

He tucks the gun somewhere behind him, keeping an eye on her the entire time, "Then expect a message from me in two days. If you don't hear from me, do not call me, just wait for it." Antonio reaches around her and locks the library door. "Two days," he repeats and she nods silently as he opens the other door and leaves.

Elizaveta just leans against the door, hearing but not registering the sound of his footstep padding away. Her mind is blank and although he's gone, the gun still feels as if it's pressed against her jawbone. She swallows against a dry throat and although her eyes have adjusted to the darkness, they stare unfocused at objects in front of her.

Two days.

Her knees go weak and Elizaveta slides down to the floor.

Two days.

And she feels like she's just sold her soul to the green-eyed devil with sandalwood skin.


A/N: The much awaited update! I'm sorry it has come so late but I promise it was so worth the wait. Shiz is about to happen guys, so get ready! Oh Elizaveta, just what have you gotten your pretty little self into? And Gilbert, what have you been up to? How do you guys like my Antonio? People make him out to be this cheery fellow but I think he can me chill sometimes too!

Well, we'll see what's going down in the check chapter! Peace!

-CeCe ~.^