The Anonymous Assistant:

A lonely yellow light flickers spastically after the switch is hit. It illuminates a small grungy barely used kitchen. The place is not particularly dirty for Vash is meticulously clean, almost obsessively so. But years of use and ware in the 30-year-old apartment show in old appliances and tinted paint. It's moments like this that forces him to realize he chose to live here.

As a detective he makes a sizeable enough salary to afford a nicer place. Why bother? It's just him in his tiny yellowing apartment. He has no one to show off too and refuses to give in to societal pressures to live a certain lifestyle.

Vash decides on muesli for the evening, too exhausted to cook anything else. Soon the hum of boiling water fills the kitchen. With a click he switches off the stove, steam wafting in his face creating a thin sheet of condensation on his forehead as he carries the pot to his dining table. Dried granola and fruits smother in hot water. The smell is nice and he inhales the grainy sweet scent.

Pour. Cool. Eat. Without a TV to occupy his time, all he can think about is the case. Vash chews slowly and zones out on matters that keep him awake at night. He stares unseeing at the small window that's slightly pulled up. It's long since lost its ability to be perfectly clear, having consistent sticky grease like substance blur the glass. Visibility is limited but not impossible. His apartment is right at the corner of a busy street, high enough where the sound isn't too noisy but low enough where he can see the red, yellow, green flicker of street lights.

In the early spring, the sounds of night insects blend with late night traffic. The streetlight turns red, casing a reddish shadow in the otherwise yellowish kitchen. A horn blares, screeching and then some yelling drifts up through the opened windowpane, merging with the sound of his spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl.

The native Swiss looks at his bowl and blinks. Huh. Stuck in his reverie, he's eaten all of his food subconsciously. "Hungry or distracted?" he grumbles and pushes his chair back. Both probably and equally not satisfied.

He carries his bowl to the sink, running water added to his nighttime symphony of zooming cars, insects and flashing streetlights. He moves his head, cracking stiff muscles and rotates his shoulder. It's hardly comfortable and Vash thinks that it's high time to change out of his work clothes. Another crack as he rotates his head, sighing in gratitude as a stubborn knot finally gives way. In the midst of his calming nightly routine, a thumbing noise that sounds like a bad note makes him look over his shoulder.

Cautious eyes glaze in the direction of his living room. He frowns and waits to see if his imagination and endless cups of coffee has made him crazy.

It didn't.

Someone is knocking at his door. It gives him pause but he wrings his hands and leaves the kitchen, stalking slowly towards the door. Caution is necessary for one such as him. He tucks loose blond hair behind his ear, the rest of his silken locks secured in a haphazard ponytail. One hand goes behind his back, fingers gripping the handle of the Walther PPK that he keeps on his person. The other hand goes for the door. He opens it swiftly only to have a wicker basket covered with clean cream-colored linen shoved in his face.

"I-I made cookies," Lilli Stammers.

Vash blinks, releasing his hold on his gun, "Lilli, what are you…"

"—I thought you might want some—" they interrupt each other.

"—It's past midnight, Lilli" he says softer this time, taking a step back to let her in.

Lilli clenches the small basket to her chest and walks in. Vash closes the door behind her and watches as his sister carefully places it on his living room table. With too much care she removes the cloth, taking out a plate of cling wrapped cookies before sitting down.

He waits another moment, just watching his sister fidget slightly with the hem of her oversized thin sweater. Then he walks over; Lilli looks up as he sits on the sofa next to her. They stay silent for a moment, her looking at her lap and him looking at the cookie medley before him.

Finally, Vash breaks the calm. "What are you doing here, Lilli?" he asks again and looks over at her.

She bites her lip and sighs. Her head dips and blonde bangs shield her eyes from his view.

"I miss Liz," She whispers her trepidation and clenches her fist, "She always knew what to do in these situations."

Elizaveta. Two months has gone by since her sudden and untimely disappearance. Vash was surprised to say the least when Ludwig came grimly to his office at the station. The German looked as if he hadn't slept in days and Vash could understand why. Apparently Elizaveta hadn't responded to any calls and was never home when he went to check on her. Funny considering her house arrest bracelet always told them she was within the vicinity of her home. Sure enough though, after waiting a few more days and the monitor said she hadn't left her house since, the police broke into the apartment. Vash cursed and nearly put a hole in the wall when they found it empty and completely spotless.

Two suspects now at large, though he is hard pressed to call Elizaveta a suspect. Accomplice? Alfred seems to think so and isn't stingy with sharing his opinions. Vash cannot deny the implications of her violating her probation and disappearing in the same manner as her lover. Doesn't mean he likes Alfred's snarky attitude about though.

He glances at his sister who looks helpless and tired. Vash lips thin as he considers why she might need Liz in the first place. The though occurs to him that it might just be lady problems. And lady problems meant…

Suddenly he's on big brother defense. "Did Alfred do you something?" he demands, ready to bolt at the word but she shakes her head and looks over at him.

"Not really," Lilli admits, "It's just…" she pauses and frowns, "are you sure you want to know?"

His bravado wavers as he considers the question. Does he even want to know?

"Yes," Vash answers, then adds, "with vague details," in case it's too personal.

"Okay, well," she sighs and her shoulders relax as she spurs out her worries. "He's been so tense lately and snappy and argumentative."

A flicker of offense crosses her face and Lilli looks off in the distance, "Over every little thing. I know it's because he's stressed and because of the case but I don't like it. I don't know what to do either. Sometimes I think he just needs space but then he gets upset that I'm not around enough. So I try to spend more time with him and then gets upset because I'm 'clingy'".

"Childish," Vash snorts out but shuts his mouth as soon as she glares at him.

"You're stressing me out too," Lilli, adds, "Both of you. Alfred complains all the time about you to me. You complain to me about him and I feel stuck in the middle. And I…I miss Liz because was good at giving advice…"

Her rant dies down and both remain quiet again, neither knowing what to say in the moment. Vash feeling guilty and Lilli feeling relieved but still confused.

Unsure of what to do, he goes for the cookies. He takes the cling wrap off and pushes the plate towards her before standing. His apartment may be sparsely decorated but he does have two coffee cups. The traffic light flickers once again to green while he waits for the water to boil. He pours a cup of instant coffee for both of them, returning with them.

"Here," he says, placing one in her hands.

"Thank you,"

They share cookies and coffee, not saying anything just eating and drinking slowly, silently. Honestly, Vash doesn't know what to say and he'll admit that Liz is better suited for this job. Plus, his relationship advice is nonexistent. He has no clue where to start with that. However, he can apologize for his own behavior that has to be a start.

"I'm sorry for making you stressed," he offers sincerely, sitting his coffee down. "I can't speak for Alfred but I can imagine that he is under a lot of stress. It's not an excuse but it's true."

Lilli nods and sits her cup down and then turns to him. "It's been two months, you know." She says evasively at first. "Sometimes I wonder if…since Gil is wanted for murder that…that maybe he…" she swallows thickly, and blinks quickly. "Maybe he…"

"He didn't," Vash interjects, catching her meaning.

"But how do you know?" Lilli asks in a strained whisper, wiping at her eyes before tears can fall.

It's his turn to bit his lip and he looks away from her. All of his life, he's prided himself on keeping work and home separate. Never in his career have the two intersected until now. Seeing Lilli in tears over her dear friend forces him into a crossroads that he's never encountered before.

Although Lilli's fears of her friend being the next victim of a brutal murder were somewhat founded, they were unnecessary. Elizaveta is not dead, of this Vash is extremely certain. Telling Lilli as much would be a complete violation of the ethics he's made for himself.

She sniffles and hiccups. Vash groans and leans back against the couch, closing his eyes and hating himself for being stuck between two things he loved dearly: his job and his sister.

"She's not dead," he says through gritted teeth.

Lilli's shock comes in the form of a gasp. He peeks open an eye to see her watching him eagerly and also a bit closer than she was before.

He looks away and down at the empty plate of cookies. God help him for spilling details of a murder case to ease his baby sister's troubles. "Liz just disappeared, just like Gilbert disappeared."

"Did he kidnap her? Was she taken for ransom or something? Did Gilbert and compliances do the job?"

Lilli rapid fires questions at him, things she's probably been brewing over for weeks now. Vash grabs his forehead and rubs at the on coming headache.

"Nein. None of that," exhausted he looks at the sister, "Look Lilli, I'm telling you this so you can stop…crying. This information doesn't leave this apartment."

She nods vigorously. "I swear it."

He hesitates still, watching as hope flickers in her green eyes. He has no choice. With a grunt he sits up. On second though, he stands and goes to a draw, rummaging through for a note pad and pen before coming back.

"It's like this," he draws a circle in the middle then lines protruding from it and lines sticking out from there. On one of the lines he writes Gilbert's name. "Beilschmidt has pulled this disappearing act before, a year and a half after entering university. He just disappeared for years."

Vash writes that on one of the lines then a few other things under it. "He shows up again about three years ago, meets Liz, the murder happens then he's a ghost again, no trails, nothing."

He moves to the next line writing Antonio's name. "This man also disappeared the same time Gilbert did but hasn't exactly 'resurfaced'."

"So," Lilli interrupts, "How did you find him if he's 'missing'?"

"I didn't" Vash reluctantly admits, "Liz did. She was looking for him, used the family investigator as well to find him. I'm lucky Alfred caught her that day or I wouldn't have any of this information. I've gotten as far as tracing Liz's step with him but after that, nothing."

Lilli shakes her head and points to the diagram, "But how does this connect to Liz? I don't understand. Are you saying she just…left us like they did?"

"Yes," Vash says seriously, writing her name on the next line. "The pattern is the same: leave everything behind and disappear without a trace. The day we suspect she left, her bracelet put her at a club on the edge of town. She went home after that. From there, the week seemed normal. Seemed."

He pauses and looks at Lilli. "Her schedule is like clockwork. She 'leaves' the house at the same time, goes to somewhere post office, store, whatever doesn't matter, for two hours. Goes home, stays for a few hours, leaves again, gets home around dinnertime and stays in. This same routine follows until the end of the week. Then she's just home but I think she left before then. Her routine is too staged."

"And maybe she's with Gilbert."

"Or Antonio or both. I wager that's why she was looking for him. Elizaveta couldn't have pulled this off alone. The reason? Whatever is in the middle." He retraces the center circle and places the pen down.

Both sit in contemplating silence for a moment, staring at his messy spider diagram filled with information and nothing at all. Vash rubs his chin and reconnects dots in his mind. Everything fits but not really. It's like a puzzle piece with two right edges but the other is off, too round or too sharp. He cannot find the connecting fact. It's a critical one and he knows it and it's connected to this murder.

Elizaveta. Gilbert. Antonio. It shouldn't be this hard. He squints at the paper, trying to find some missing piece. They couldn't have just fallen off the map. What is it? He thinks. What am I overlooking? Show me, damn it!

Tiny arms wrap around his middle. Lilli leans all of her weight against his side and squeezes as much as she can. "Thank you, Vash," she whispers. "I know you'll find her. I just know it. Thanks for working so hard…and understanding."

The confession stills his manic thoughts for all of the time it takes for another suspicious ramp against his front door. This timing is more erratic and Lilli gasps, squeezing him out of surprise and maybe fear.

Vash bites the inside of his cheek and stares at the door as if it will tell him who is disturbing him at nearly one o'clock in the morning.

"Stay here," he warns Lilli and pries her arms from around him. With the stealth of a feline, Vash grabs his gun and walks to the wall next to the door. He presses against it, gun in one hand, loaded and ready. The other reaches side ways for the door. A flicker of movement to his right and he glances as Lilli moves to crouch on the side of the sofa.

He nods once.

She nods back.

Vash quickly opens the door, pushes himself from the wall and aims his gun at the perpetrator.

"Whoa," a young man, no older than early twenties, gasps and takes a step back. "Hey man, chill alright."

"Who are you?" Vash asks, ignoring the comment and still pointing the gun at the space between the boy's eyes.

"I'm nobody! I swear! I'm just here because some chick told me to come here!"

Some chick? "Who?" Vash barks. "Who sent you?"

"I-I don't know her," he stutters, "I was just walking and she asked if I wanted to make a quick hundred for dropping off a package. And mean, it's money so I said yeah or whatever. Dude, please don't kill me!"

"What did she look like?"

"I don't know!"

Vash cocks his gun, "Tell me what the hell she looks like!"

The boy lifts his arms higher, revealing a small brown envelope. "She had on a hood, I couldn't see! I swear man, please."

"Where did you see her?"

"On the corner, a-across the street. She was just standing there, man."

Vash refuses to lower his weapon though the utterly panicked look the other gives him is believable. But still.

He juts is chin at the boy, lowering the gun slightly to the right at the small brown envelope in his hand.

"Is that the 'package'?"

The boy's tension slightly lessens. He looks at the envelope. "Yeah."

Vash holds out a free hand, "Give,"

The boy does so without hesitation, dropping the envelope in Vash's upturned palm. He hesitates for only a moment before dashing down the hall. The Swiss man looks down as he goes, passing the elevator to take the stairs.

He waits half a second before closing the door.

"Vash, what—,"

"Shhh," he says and rushes to the window, pressing against the wall before discreetly looking out of the greasy glass.

It doesn't take him long to spot the lone figure leaning against the opposite building. The woman wears a red hoodie, slightly dim in the darkness of night but he sees her looking up at his apartment buildings. Her eyes dance around from window to window. Vash curses under his breathe when he can't quite make out the color. A few seconds late, she spots him.

They stare at each other a moment in the darkness. Though he's too high up and she's too far away, Vash knows that she's looking right at him. The hoodie stops him from seeing any distinguishing features but he has a feeling.

"…Liz…" he mumbles.

The mysterious woman nods once, almost as if she heard the words, before pushing off the building, turning and walking away. He lingers on the spot for a few seconds before looking away. Lilli stands watching him, glancing between him and the envelope in his hand.

"What is it?" she finally asks.

He looks down at the envelope. It's relatively light. He twists his writs, looking at it before turning it on the back. The flap lifts and he pulls out a small piece of paper. The writing isn't that of Elizaveta. It's small, delicate carefully written cursive.

Lilli takes a tentative step closer and looks over his shoulder as he reads the penmanship.

Detective Zwingli,

I hoped my tip a few weeks ago would have helped but I see it didn't and now I am hard-pressed to do something.

I fear that if I keep sitting back, it will be too late.

Elizaveta is in danger.

Promise that nothing will happen to my family and I, I will gladly help you.

You have a duty to protect.

Trust me, if you decide on my help, we will need your protection.

Here is where to meet me: corner of Dryads and Crowder.

Come alone.


A/N: Yup...just gonna stop there, hehehehehe

-CeCe