"do we have any advances on where David is?"
"He may be a grieving man but by no means is he stupid , his skills surpass any normal assassin. He cannot be traced , but he is no ghost either , he will slip."
Vincent and Elizabeth walk through the , her pushing metal wired trolley , scanning the contents of the shopping list. Vincent keeping in tow and throwing items in the trolley as he thinks fit and thoroughly disturbing the people in the following lanes. Elizabeth considers protesting as ordering consumables in their coloured order is something that brings her peace , nonetheless she enjoys his company , they had finally moved on from the bakery section , after spending a good twenty minutes gathering around both of their comfort foods. Cupcakes , donuts and cookies lay unorganized in the trolley.
Elizabeth does not like being alone.
She craves the solitude but is sometimes terrified of it. Occasionally , whenever she finds herself alone in a room , she spends her time in with a book in hands or murdering boredom with sewing in the confines of Vincent's office. Listening to him attending various calls , it hardly makes sense to her-but his voice brings a sense of protection she longs for in loneliness.
David disappeared right after the funeral , with Kendra. His location untraced and his clothes in his house gone. Elizabeth and Vincent decided not to chase him , as he needed his space.
"Vincent?"
He turns to her from the meat section.
"Do you think you can introduce me to the team you are working with? For finding my father?"
Vincent walks over to her , and holds out his hand. She subconsciously places her hand in his-which previously while-knuckle gripped on the handle , now is traces between the edges of her fingers. A simple gesture of momentary comfort , that calms her nerves.
"Elizabeth-"
"No...Vincent , every day goes by , I forget. I forget what a cruel man he is. I am fading , Vincent. Like a picture in a fairytale book. I need something, i need that fire back. I do enjoy this domesticity with you , you....are my sole source of ease" She offers him a sad smile "It feels like a luxury i can't afford , an indulgence of guilt. It should feel like i deserve it , but i know i don't. The more i keep pushing it down , the more i keep coddling in this labyrinth of unattended chaos, the more i keep fading away. I'm losing myself , Vincent...i need to stop him. He must be stopped , i will not give him the power to pick me apart petal by petal , i am no daisy"
He smiles and leans in , placing a feather light kiss on her forehead , "We start tomorrow , eight 'o' clock"
Elizabeth returns the gesture by pecking his cheek , mindfully.
"but , we do have tonight don't we?" He looks over onto the contents of the trolley "I think we need to return to the cookies section"
Elizabeth laughs , "Oh i think the alcohol section might have something in store for us"
Vincent gasps in counterfeit shock , placing a hand dramatically on his chest "Darling , Im British. I only drink tea"
"Would you like sugar with that tea or grenades?"
"I think I'm in the mood for Rifles today "
They both burst out laughing , as onlookers cast a suspicious eye. Vincent's laugh gradually slows down , and he regards her with loving scrutiny , his eyes soft in the lighting of the supermarket.
"Oh for God's sake" He looks around , exasperated.
"What?" Her own smile turns to a frown.
He looks around wildly and seized around by a new energy. He makes a lunge for the display of children's magazine on their glass stand, bright , lurid things of basic colours and illustrations, Much to her bemusement , he tears out a freckled ring from the front of the magazine and tears the cellophane in triumphant. Running back towards Elizabeth he gets down on one knee.
"Elizabeth....I will be your life time supply of infectious laughs, comfort, cuddles , calm , sex and all the cookies you can have in the world. How much ever feared , frowned up and fucked up the Zavier last name is- Will you do me the honours of sharing it?"
Elizabeth knees besides him , her surrounds forgotten she sees flashes of camera lights as she presents her hand , she smiles. A true smile , through the tears of long awaited joy she sniffs and nods , until she feels the plastic glitter ring around the joints of her ring finger "Only if you get me new boxing gloves"
~*~*~
The air is colder outside the airport , it's not chilled or mildly numbing , its brutal. The type of winds that wind gaps through the thinner patches of your clothes and trace the warm skin .
Victoria looks around shivering and senseless.
The signs mean nothing to her , the women there are hard-faced , dressed in heavy furs and in spiked stilettos . While the men walk around steely disregard for courtesy both of the genders unafraid to depict their irritation towards the confused American.
Moscow was not an inviting place.
She swallows hard , and watches the snow patter down on the taxi window. The man inside was and still is smoking , he harshly gestured for her to get in , in the fog of the smoke and grunted when she showed him the location on her phone. Her first impression of Moscow was hardly pleasant , it was bleak , first grey and then white. All dark trees and tar and banks of dirty snow.
Russia was not merciful.
When they stop , Victoria jolts from her observations and does a double take.
It's a casino , alright , but three folds bigger than the ones she was used to. Its towering , multi-floored , adorned in langue Victoria does not understand.
"Убирайся" ('get out')
Victoria takes her cue to leave , and hands the taxi driver the change. She climbs out of the car and the first thing that catches her eyes are the prostitutes who shamelessly pick their clients , in exposed lingerie and bearing smiles , one, two , three , four per men.
Survival in the form of bold manipulation.
As she makes her way inside with balled fists at her side , claiming it packed is an understatement. She pushes her way the gold plated entrances. She now understands how Ace makes a living , this is an entrepreneurs paradise , she can barely see the red carpet beneath her feet.
Drinks are being harshly banged against the bar counter and are being consumed directly from the bottle. Once at the bar , Victoria leans in and snaps her fingers to get the bartenders attention , a full-chested women who isn't afraid to show off her assets. Her eye brows raise when she sees Victoria dressed in semi formal clothes.
"чего бы ты хотел?" ('what would you like?')
"Sorry?"
"твой напиток?" ('your drink?')
Victoria blinks at the language , ignorantly. She wasn't expecting the authenticity of Russian , hoping they'd speak minimal English. She can only wonder how Ace and Myla felt between the people uninterested in their language.
It is not a nice feeling.
"Ace , im looking for Ace!"
She regards Victoria as if she hadn't spoken and turns away to attend other clients.
"Ace Lavitsky?"
She stops and turns around and looks at Victoria carefully-and then starts to laugh , pointing her out to her colleague.
"Американец хочет нашего господина Лавицкого!" ('The American wants our Mr. Lavitsky')
Her friend bursts out in pearls of laughter as she pours a drink with one hand. "Она не единственная" ('she's not the only one')
Victoria is about to lose her temper , but then the former leans in and says in a voice so thickly laced that she has to pick out individual words to make sense of it.
"He playing , Ms. American " She points to the crowd gathered around a casino table "three number, table. ты найдешь. Ace Lavitsky"
She nods her thanks to the waitress and walks over to the table. Distinguishing him is impossible in the sea of laughter and limbs.
There is a hearty cheer from the centre of the table that escalate into chants. Victoria spots Ace in the midst of the crowd , his black blazer off , and his pale arms bare-he fans out his cards onto the green velvet. The second cheer is equally deafening-as he accepts with a pink smile , the drinks that are thrust in his direction and accepts a full mouthed kiss of the women who is clinging to him like a koala she moves to sit on his lap.
Victoria waves , and his attention is deterred from the crowd around him. He smiles and walks over to her , earning questioning stares from his audience. He gently steers her to the quieter section of the casino.
Upon reaching to the desired destination , he embraces her. She assumes that he knows what happened with Myla . Victoria tries to hold her ground and her resolve in order to not give into the compulsion of breaking down , completely.
"I'm so sorry , Lisichka"
She pulls away , "At least Martha met her end"
"Who do you think....?"
Victoria addresses him with indifference, it's her subconscious instinct to indulge in the falsehood. She doesn't find the heart to admit as to why . Why would she not let his name slip into the conversation?
Her attempt at protecting Lucas? Unlikely.
Her making an endeavour of making sure his name didn't associate with her anymore? Quite possibly.
So she settles on a simple shake of the head and changes the subject , "I need your help , as you know i haven't been quite the sinless women , people who hired Martha , might have connections from Moscow. Look , i don't have many connections of my own , the only one i had...now doesn't wish to be found. I need- "
Ace holds her shoulders , and she pauses "Lisichka ! you talk too fast ! "He laughs "My English not so good!"
"i-"
He cuts her off by motioning her to the bar and they take seat , a full glass of something frosted is place in front of her , wordlessly by the waitress.
He takes the bar stool next to her and signals her the waitress , "drink"
Victoria hesitates
"You are in Moscow now , darling! The vodka is a blessing here"
"You are a bad influence" She says a little shakingly "Please don't call me darling. The word carries a weight of memories"
He fingers trace the cold edge of the small shot glass , the gold embedded intricate designs on it sensitive under her fingers. He observes her with pale scrutiny.
"I'm an Ex-alcoholic. I should've probably mentioned that"
"Нет " ('no') He holds up a corrective finger "You are a drinks devotee"
"I think the term is compulsive substance abuse"
He grins "Ah that is absurd. In Russia there is no such thing as too much drink. It always too less"
"Insatiable huh"
"In more ways than one , lisichka"
Victoria makes a noise of acknowledgment and looks down at the vodka , she inhales sharply. Another attempt at explaining her situation.
"I need to ask a favour"
"you are not staying?"
"I-i don't think so. But i need some connections , connections which can provide me protection that i need. I may have a name for myself , but i need powerful links-because whoever sent Martha to kill me , will send more. The past connections i had...well-the one who ensured my protection does not wish to be found-"
"Who...was your past protection link? You need help finding them...?"
"No...thats beside the point. I need new contacts , stable ones, ones I can trust. And i figured this is where you specialize , trust , right? " she waits for a gesture of confirmation and continues " Hence , I need a safe house , they already know where I live. So , Name your price Mr. Lavitsky"
"I'm not going to provide you a safe house"
Victoria stops , and tires not to look as affronted as she feels. The bartender arrives with a glass and Ace receives his drink with a smile.
"There is no point" he says lifting his glass to his lips " You'll be with me , no?"
Her grip on the shot glass tightens
"With you? "
"Yes , I'm currently staying in a huge place , many rooms. A suite . You can stay there , with me"
Victoria eyes him suspiciously "I don't want charity"
"No , no , Lisichka" he swallows his vodka and sets the glass down "It's not pity , it's an offer. I will run my 'sketchy deals' as you say and you can run your business from there. We will be running Moscow from my apartment. I only come here in the evening , they have free drinks. Its hard not to gamble. You will understand it soon , you will earn your respect here."
His enthusiasm is infectious.
"I...I'm not so sure-"
"I will show you the city too! Russia is a beautiful country , if you know where to look. Have you been to Arbat street , yet? It's beautiful in the holidays ! Or the red square? It is the heart of the city. I'm sure you will like it" He grins "We will wipe any British traces from you. We are yet to make a Russian out of you , lisichka"
Victoria returns a confused smile and downs her drink, knocking out the residue of any remembrance of the crystal eyed corruption. The English crime connoisseur's remnants burn as the swell of the vodka hits her head.
She returns Ace's smile , matching his own enthusiasm. She nods , and his grin widens in returns.
"Now , Tell me Ms. Smith , is Vodka your cup of tea?"