It was eight AM Saturday morn and Alfred was alive. His phone battery, however, was close to death.
Alfred: ok i've got another one for u Ivan ok here it is
Alfred: are u there
Alfred: plz this is urgent
Alfred: Ivann
Alfred: raviolis are pop tarts. change my mind.
Ivan: Alfred that is been done before, also NO
Alfred: YES
Ivan: NO
Alfred: ACCEPT IT
Ivan: I ACCEPT IT ONLY IF YOU ACCEPT THAT MY SIDEBLOG FOR KNITTING IS GOOD AND HAS REVOLUTIONARY CONTENT
Alfred: i'll accept it but i still won't read it
Ivan: ;)(;
Alfred: hah get it cuz i can't read
Ivan: lollolkolkololol)
Ivan: i have question though are u really 19
Oh, shit.
Alfred: um i'm 23
Bad idea telling him? Maybe. But of course it didn't matter if Ivan knew the truth or not. Maybe.
Ivan: oh ok
Alfred: oh¿
Alfred: well how old r u
(Ivan was 25.)
Ivan: 25
Alfred: wow so u really are a grandpa
Ivan: ┻━┻︵ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ︵ ┻━┻
Ivan: i should have never shown u the knitting blog
Alfred: no really i swear i think its cute
Alfred: i don't have a fancy emoji tho so here ;)
Ivan: ;)
Ivan: oops i have to go my sisters flight is landing
Ivan: but thx i think u are cute too ()
Alfred knew that, at least. He snorted to himself and typed out a last response before rolling over on the couch and shutting his phone off.
Alfred: hasta la vista
For a few minutes, he just stared at the ceiling, reliving their conversation. He could have been working, watching Ivan, but he was finding he liked talking to Ivan more.
Alfred had not told Arthur about his meetings with Ivan in the parks. Alfred had not told Arthur about the texting. Alfred had told Arthur about Ivan's recent "suspicious activity," washing over the "Mr. FBI" thing by explaining Ivan's meme obsession. Arthur had crossed his arms, went on a brief spiel about how the Internet was corrupting everyone and everything, told Alfred to log it on the file, and walked away. Alfred had logged it on the file. Then Alfred had opened up his phone, read the text, and began talking to Ivan. They hadn't stopped.
The TV continued to play Black Panther, but it was the twenty-ninth time Alfred had seen it already. He redirected his attention to the ceiling, sighed for a second, and then opened his phone back up, ignoring the low battery warning. He dialed a number.
"Hey, yo, what's up, Matt! So how's that gray division interview coming?"
Washington, D.C., even on a Saturday morning—especially on a Saturday morning—was bustling. Ivan's sisters had wanted to look around, though; it was still four in the afternoon to them, so look around they did, after dropping their stuff off at Ivan's apartment. He could never say no to his sisters.
It was charmingly evident Yekaterina and Natalya had gone all out. They both wore sunglasses, held disposable cameras, and carried fanny packs. Natalya, standing on Ivan's left, kept itching at the jacket she had forgotten to take off and unconsciously stepping closer to him whenever someone passed them by. Yekaterina, doused in sunscreen on Ivan's right, had her nose in some brochure and kept walking into things as she struggled to understand the English. They were sandwiched together in a neoclassic wind tunnel of people and voices and cameras; they were hot, tired, hungry, and waiting for the jet lag to kick in. Ivan could not be happier.
"He's smaller than I thought he would be," remarked Natalya after some silence and staring.
"He looks bored. You could almost climb up and sit on his lap!" exclaimed Katya, snapping a picture.
"If you did that they might lock you up and enshrine you in a temple forever," Ivan teased. "I have also heard that there's a secret cave basement below."
They all looked down at the marble beneath their feet.
"Wow," mused Natalya. "I thought the secret was that he came alive at night."
Ivan nodded solemnly. "That too."
"Let's all take a picture with him!" Yekaterina declared, pulling her siblings in. She turned the camera backwards, adjusting it in multiple ways to get the angle correct. The flash blinded them. Ivan laughed.
"Oh, oh!" Katya lowered the camera and gazed out past it, along the aquamarine reflecting pool stretching endlessly before them, and up the ever-present Washington Monument pointing up in the distance. "We need a picture in front of all that, too!"
They stepped back out into the open, the sun hitting them with a blast. "I can't imagine what it must feel like under that scarf, Ivan," commented Natalya. "Katya said she was surprised you still wear it. Are you hot? I think saw a cold water vendor somewhere around here."
"I'm very well," Ivan responded. "I feel the best I've felt in a long time."
She looked up at him, her expression pleased. She silently linked their arms together.
"Everyone come over here and smile!" Their older sister stood ahead on the gray concrete plain between the Memorial and the Reflecting Pool. She had somehow found and communicated with another tourist to take their picture, and was waving her arms around.
Ivan had taken pictures of himself near most of DC's attractions before, but he felt more comfortable now when his sisters were standing in the photos with him instead of looking at his own lonely photos through a screen halfway across the world. More complete. He had the sudden urge to latch onto his sisters and never let them fly back home.
"Let me breathe! You're sweaty!" Yekaterina laughed, squirming in the hug Ivan had wrapped his sisters in.
"I'm not sweaty; you're sweaty, sweaty!" Ivan responded, kissing her on the cheek.
The tourist's English interrupted them. He held up the camera. "Um. Do you want this back?"
"Yes! Thank you!" Katya grabbed it from him, and then they all crowded around to inspect the photo.
"We look silly," Natalya declared. "I blinked. Let's do it again."
"Well, there are plenty of other things to take pictures of," Ivan put in. "Perhaps we should keep walking."
And so they strolled in fashion down the National Mall. It was like the weight was lifted off his shoulders—getting this free staycation. The computer was gone, he had even taken off work, and he didn't have to think about Alfred all the damn time because now he could just text him! Ivan blasted a thought to Mr. FBI: I hope you're just as happy as I am right now, wherever you are.
Then, some deep, dark thought crawled its way up from the shady corners of Ivan's brain. If something...did happen between he and Alfred...what would his sisters say? Ivan glanced the tiniest glance at them. Yekaterina was using the brochure to shield her eyes from the sun. Natalya was squinting into the long reflecting pool. As children the three had been raised in a plethora of different Eastern European countries, but they loved each other, so maybe it was okay Ivan thought Alfred was hella funny and hot and so American and—and—oh no! It was almost lunchtime and they were right on the lip of the Constitution Gardens! What if ALfred was there?
Natalya interrupted his thoughts. "Do you think anyone has ever drowned in this?"
Ivan took her hand. "Um, probably not. It's not deep, but you aren't supposed to go in it. Come; let's take a picture up there."
"I want to just touch the water, then," she decided, letting go of him. "Just to touch it."
Yekaterina laughed. "Ooh, I want to, too!" They both sat down on the edge of the pool.
Ivan tensed up, looking around. Alfred could be any one of the men in suits. Or—maybe he didn't work on Saturdays. Maybe he was wearing casual clothes. He put a hand over his forehead and scrutinized the closest pedestrians. Then Ivan checked the time again on his phone, and then again. Please, Mr. FBI. If you can hear me, please don't let Alfred see us yet.
Aw, frickin' frick. Now Ivan was praying to Mr. FBI. You've officially made me LoSE MY MARBLES!
"Ivan?" Yekaterina looked up. Half her arm was submerged in the water. "It's okay! No one's going to arrest us!"
"Be careful or you'll fall in and drown," Natalya warned Katya, climbing back to her feet.
Ivan shook his head at them, feigning embarrassment. "You are two grown women."
Yekaterina linked her wet arm with him and sang, "Two grown women on vacation!"
There he laughed for real, and some of the anxiety faded away. They continued walking down the length of the pool. Ivan didn't let himself give one more glance towards the gardens until they had reached the end and taken another few selfies with the pond and skyline in the background.
Katya consulted her brochure when Natalya had deemed the pictures worthy enough and had stopped telling her to Delete it! "So in front of us now is the World War II Memorial, right? It's pretty!"
"And we have to walk all the way around to get to it," confirmed Ivan.
"My feet hurt already," groaned Natalya.
And yet, they spent a good hour circling the memorial. It was one of Ivan's favorite monuments in Washington, mainly for the architecture and unique layout. On a sunny, happy day like this, it was easier to live in the present and feel the weight of the distance between now and bygone eras. He imagined the memorial oval was a sports arena and the world was okay.
From World War II, they made their way back to 1776 by ascending the hill near the Washington Monument—DC's ever-distinctive yet ever-disrepaired obelisk. It was closed, but they walked the circle of American flags anyway.
"It's almost dinnertime," Natalya mused with a calm yawn. A few small clouds had moved in, giving them blissful seconds of shade.
"Lunchtime," Ivan corrected. "Do you want to go home and come back, or eat out? There are lots of food trucks." He thought briefly of Wang Yao and tried to keep from shuddering.
"Let's finish walking the Mall first, then decide," Yekaterina suggested over her shoulder, snapping a few photos of the city. "Or at least look through one museum. Soon we will be too tired!"
So they strolled down the hill and crossed over to the street. The SAVE THE WHALES people were out again, spread over the grass with their signs and stickers. "So that's why the blocks in between are so empty," commented Natalya.
Ivan shrugged. "It's free real estate."
Katya was smiling. "Should we go donate? I like the whales!"
"Last time they were here they talked at me for twenty minutes and almost made me late for work," Ivan responded, tucking his chin into his scarf.
"So no," Natalya clarified. "What about the Smithsonian, Ivan? I have heard of that. Should we go in?" She was pointing at a building up ahead to their left, past the crowds.
Ivan was about to correct her by asking "Which Smithsonian? There are more than one…" before he understood the particular Smithsonian she was pointing at. The National Museum of Natural History. The one he had hacked into just a week before.
"That's the wrong one," Ivan blurted out. He surprised himself. He wasn't used to spitting lies so quickly to his sisters. The police hadn't showed up on his doorstep yet, but Ivan still wanted to allow more time to pass since his infiltration. He wanted that man in the elevator to forget he existed. To pass everything off as a regular maintenance check. Nothing was wrong. So Ivan thought fast. "You must mean the Smithsonian Castle, Natalya. It's this way." He pointed south in the exact opposite direction of the Museum of Natural History. "And there are also gardens there that I help maintain!"
Yekaterina shaded her eyes again. "We'll have to pass the whale people, then."
"They aren't so bad, actually." Ivan led the way, suppressing a shiver.
Many hours, flowers, and promotional stickers that turned out to be magnets later, the three made it back to Ivan's apartment. Natalya and Yekaterina were beginning to tire, so they worked on unpacking their things and blowing up the air mattress while Ivan cooked. He turned music on, but every time he glanced at his phone he thought of texting Alfred. He posted to his meme account instead. His follower count had stayed at one million.
After dinner he and his sisters broke out the vodka and watched some old movies Yekaterina had brought over, all cuddled up on the air mattress together in front of the TV—which was just Natalya's laptop propped up on a chair. It was a strange feeling to be completely relaxed and lowkey anxious at the same time. Ivan wanted to tell his sisters about Alfred because they were the closest friends he had, but he also didn't, because they had just gotten here, and they were falling asleep all over the place, and what would they say anyway? Ivan wanted to drown in a sea of memories with them and talk about their childhood back home, and ask them questions about their lives now, but he didn't want to bombard them on their first day. He wanted to say so much; he said nothing.
Thirty minutes into the second movie, Yekaterina rolled over and touched his arm. Natalya was sleeping like the dead. "Hey, Ivan?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think it would be okay...well...Natalya and I were talking on the plane. I—I know we told you we'd be here for the weekend, but neither of us has to work, and…" —she giggled softly— "we were wondering if maybe we could stay a bit longer? Today was very fun."
Ivan breathed in and out. "Of course you can stay," he assured her. "As long as you want, please. Two days is not a lot of time."
Her smile was illuminated by the light of the movie. "Mm, thank you. We have missed you very much, Ivan. It seems like you have a wonderful home here. Goodnight!"
As she rolled over, Ivan leaned back. Hacker circle aside, Ivan did like his home here. He took another sip of vodka. Then he rose and tucked his sisters in, just like Katya used to do, and like they both used to do for Natalya. The house was filled with the sounds of their snoring. It felt good. He watered the sunflower before preparing himself for bed as well.
Alfred had just slid into his Deadpool pajamas when his phone went off. He hopped across his bedroom, dodging the empty tub of Ben & Jerry's he had just consumed, to see the text. Ivan had been quiet all afternoon.
Ivan: long day ;) how are you?
Alfred: gr9. readin fanfic (i can really read i swear) u?
Ivan: sisters and i walked around washington dc today. Why does names of everything have "freedom" in it?
Alfred: 'MERICA
Alfred: well, see, we like freedom!
Ivan: adorable (*´`*)
Ivan: question what else do you like
Alfred: ...is this a trap dude i like many things
Ivan: do u like me
Oh, shit. Jeez, Ivan was direct! Yet Alfred couldn't stop himself from typing back immediately.
Alfred: ok confession time i do like you
Ivan: i like u too (◡‿◡✿)
Alfred was blushing over text. Shit shit shit shit shit. But it was, like, good shit. Shit in a good way. Shiiiiit.
Ivan: want to facetime?
Alfred: i'm in bed rn
Ivan: so want to facetime?
Alfred: heck, sure ;)
Shit.
send me a picture - gwen
I would have had this done last night, but last week was a particular beast of a busy bee. Woo boi. Still recovering. But anyway today there's the Emancipation Day celebration in DC so yaaay! (Also the lingo sounds different in this chapter because they're speaking Russian or one of their own languages with each other obviously, not English.)
Also, to the anon that gave the idea of Ivan having a sideblog for knitting: you are the future.