Kiss Gun Secret Agent AU/Glass Slipper, Golden Gun

''Tap. Tap. Taptaptap.''

Celes gave pause in the middle of pouring hot water over morning tea that day, rubbing at a particularly sleepy eye. She checked her watch. Three fifty-one AM.

Her ears flopped backwards over her hair in irritation. She glared at the darkness outside her window.

"Go away!" she announced out loud to her empty apartment. "I'm not letting you hide from the police in my house!"

''Tap-tap. Taptaptaptap.''

"Ugh," Celes groaned, but slammed another mug down onto her counter, and poured a second cup of tea regardless. "At least give me ten minutes to dress!"

Pause. Some scratching noises, and the window came open in the next half second.

A pair of fuzzy ears poked over her windowsill, perking in her direction. "You're not dressed?"

Celes scowled and pulled her dressing gown on top of her nightwear, tying it around her waist. "I am now."

"Doesn't sound like that took ten minutes," and with a single, smooth movement, Percy Boots lifted himself into the apartment. His eyebrows rose as he eyed her up and down. Slowly, he released a low whistle. "Damn. If that's your idea of dressed..."

Celes flushed darkly, lifting a finger before his face, "Not a word."

"Don't need 'em," Percy grinned roguishly. He leaned across the counter and grabbed the cup of tea as if he'd known it would be there. "Picture's worth a thousand words already."

"And I suppose you think it strange to be unprepared for house guests at four in the morning?" Celes scowled, but sat down and returned to her own tea. "What are you doing here?"

"I missed you at the party last night," Percy shrugged, opening her refrigerator as if he had done this a hundred times. Without even looking, he took out the milk and added a generous amount to his tea.

"Yes, well, someone booked catering two nights in a row," Celes huffed, holding out her cup expectantly. "I left early. To sleep."

Percy added the milk for her offhandedly. "One dance. That's all I'm asking for."

"I have to get started now if I want the mochi to be done in time. That is not even speaking of the macarons!" Celes punctuated this with a mouthful of tea. She wrinkled her nose. "And you put in too much milk. Again."

"What can I say? I'm a cat... we're not exactly used to going light on the cream," Percy grinned, licking his lower lip. "Come on. One dance. I'll even help with the macaroons. Blah blah blah, three-day aging process. Whatever. All you need is to do now is to stick them together, right?"

Celes gave pause for a moment. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "I don't trust you not to steal them while you ought to be working. You've pilfered enough of my prototypes."

"Ah, Celes," Percy sighed, placing his hand over his heart. "Would I do that to you?"

Bluntly: "Yes, you would."

"I'm touched. You know me so well," Percy winked over a Cheshire-wide smile. "I might nibble on one or two. Who can blame me, though, when they're too... delicious... to not take a bite?"

Celes rolled her eyes, "Neither flattery nor flirting will get you your way. I'm completely aware they're still too dry, and that the outermost edges do not offer a clean enough bite."

"There's nothing wrong with them," Percy insisted, downing the last of his tea. "They're amazing!"

"You," she pushed her teaspoon against his nose, bitterly upset. "You have clearly never eaten one of my mother's macarons. You know absolutely nothing about macarons! You aren't even calling them the right name!"

"I know that they're great," he brushed away the spoon, "And I'll steal a whole damn plate of them tonight if you don't have the time to dance with me two nights in a row."

Celes' ears pitched straight upwards. "That is a threat."

"What else would I do with the time I normally spend dancing with a lovely lady?" Percy smirked, casually tucking his hands into his pockets. "I suppose I'll just have to drown my sorrows in baked goods."

She frowned, as if uncertain what he would truly do. "You will gain weight."

"Worried about my health again, sweetheart?" Percy tenderly brushed a bit of hair from her cheek. "Much as I appreciate the concern, it's not gonna happen. I get enough exercise to keep off the pounds... if anything, I need the extra calories."

"You'll make me look underdressed!" Celes protested, averting her eyes. It was clear her resolve was weakening.

"If that's what you're worried about, I can strip," Percy winked, beginning to undo the buttons of his tux.

"Ugh, fine!" Celes at last set down her tea. "One dance. And I will not suffer an excess or scarcity of frosting."

"I will swear it on my life," Percy bowed exaggeratedly.

Celes raised a single eyebrow.

"... all nine of my lives," he amended.

And so, at 4:15 in the morning, Celes Mochigome sighed and flipped on her apartment's modest CD player. As if it had been expecting the event, tango music came floating through the speakers just as Percy set his hands in place, one upon her waist and the other tangling up in her own.

One dance, she assured herself, just five more minutes until I can get back to work.

(Instead, they danced to the break of dawn.)

--x-x-x-x-x--

"You were supposed to be here two hours ago," commented Ryusei analytically, turning his head to the side. "There are crumbs on your shirt. Your left sleeve has mochi paste stuck to it."

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly have time to stop at a laundry place before coming here," Percy snorted, attempting to shrug off the comment. "What's it to you?"

"You were with your girlfriend," the corner of Ryusei's mouth twitched upwards faintly, amused by this revelation.

"My girlfriend?" Percy arched an eyebrow at him, shaking his head. "Nuh-uh. No way. Percy Boots doesn't do attachment. I'm a freewheelin', love-'em-and-leave-'em kinda cat. Always been, always will be."

"It has been nine weeks and one day since the last time you participated in a date with any other," Ryusei remarked. "The reasonable conclusion is that you have become monogamous... although it could also be explained if you were going through a dry spell in lovers."

"Percy Boots," he insisted, "Does not go through 'dry spells!' I can charm the pants off any damn person I please."

"Then you are monogamous," Ryusei explained, as if it were the only obvious answer. "I don't suggest being late again in the future. Romeo was so mad, he drew the eyeliner on his left eye more thickly than the one on his right."

"Romeo can deal with it," Percy crossed his arms.

"You would be unwise to continue this dalliance," Ryusei pressed his lips together briefly. "My searching has turned up the fact that police have already questioned her on your whereabouts. The relationship could compromise the syndicate, as well as her safety."

"You're one to talk," Percy rolled his eyes. "Aren't you basically married to that computer programmer? What's-her-face. The civilian."

"You will not mention her," Ryusei's expression suddenly became solemn. Frost began to creep up the walls of that room, spiralling in frigid fractals.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't really have the time to go into detail about it, gotta catch a nap," Percy yawned and stretched casually. "What'd you make me for tonight? I want what I came here for."

Ryusei narrowed his eyes, still ill at ease, "What makes you believe that I made you anything? You were late yesterday, too, and the time before then, as well. I missed several hours of work. Those hours had to be cut somewhere."

"Come on," Percy grinned infuriatingly. "Romeo wouldn't send me into the heist of the century without some new duds."

"Actually," a figure leaped down from rafters of that high-vaulted room. "I would."

"Sup, Romeo," Percy inspected his nails casually, not at all impressed by the Syndicate boss' dramatic entrance. "Must've killed you to stay up there while Ryusei was shit-talking your eyeliner."

"I can see you attempted to fix it," Ryusei observed. "It seems you have smeared your contouring in the process."

"Shut up, I'll fix it later," the Cupid growled, fluffing out his wings furiously. He pointed accusingly at Ryusei, "You... leave us for now. Go spy on the Queen's web history, or whatever it is you do for fun."

"Sure," Ryusei turned to the door. He gave pause, "By the way, her web history's completely boring. She doesn't do anything except write MyChapter statuses and look for crumb cake recipes. Her diplomatic e-mails, on the other hand..."

Romeo's hand came down to rest upon one of the guns at his waist. "Leave, or I'll shoot you."

"If you truly had the intent to do so, I've no doubt I'd already have a bullet in me," Ryusei reasoned, but exited the room regardless.

"So, Romeo," Percy leaned coolly against a wall. "Or are you still trying to make Director M a thing?"

"Yeah, that's right. Director M's still supposed to be a thing," Romeo crossed his arms. "Don't want the Fairytale Bureau of Investigation to start looking into Romeo V. Cupid's baby sister, would I?"

"The FBI doesn't even know we're organized," Percy snorted.

"They do now," Romeo bit, clenching his fists so hard they began to bleed. "Ryusei found out during a routine hacking of the servers. They know we're connected, and they know we're big. And you know what else? They know we strike while the biggest parties of the year are going on."

Percy's expression grew grave. "Nuh-uh. No way. Who spilled the secret?"

"You did," Romeo scowled, picking a single button out of his pocket. "You lost this. It took three inside agents just to get it back. You're getting sloppy, Boots."

Catlike pupils dilated at that, zoning in on the button. "That's one of Ryusei's communication devices. There's no way I could've lost that."

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out whose commlink this is." Romeo flipped the button over. An embossed cat head was on the back. "They used it to get into our system. They have people's names."

"Shit," Percy cursed.

"I'm still under suspect just for throwing some of those those parties," Romeo crossed his arms. "Do you have any idea how much I had to pay Ryusei to feign a crash of the suspect records? Doesn't come cheap. I'm not giving up my stabby-stabby just because you were too busy chasing after Lady Rabbit to notice that you dropped this."

"Why the hell do you think I was with Celes?" Percy crossed his arms. "I've been tailed by the police like, six times in the past year."

"Because I'm nice enough to stab the police who chase you," Romeo rolled his eyes. "None of them'll be talking anytime soon. Memory loss poison. But you don't pay attention to shit when you're busy chatting up our caterer."

Percy's ears pressed backwards into his scalp. "You sayin' that Percy Boots isn't the best agent around?"

"I'm saying that Percy Boots made one hell of a rookie mistake," Romeo crossed his arms. "You're not getting anything from Ryusei for tonight. The heist is off."

"Briar Beauty's hosting the Centennial Charity Gala tonight," Percy grit his teeth. "All the surveillance is going to be on protecting the precious royal leaders of the fairytale nations over there. Sparrow Hood booked you for the Rogues' Guild Raid Party at the same time... he'll be the one with all the police tailing. We'll never get this chance again."

"I said, the heist is off," Romeo glowered. "Unless you somehow find a way to pin the scheduling coincidence on Briar Beauty instead of me. I'm all for reckless break-ins, kidnappings, assassinations... but I'm not gonna just let the FBI connect my name to them. They'll interrogate Chariclo."

"Always about your little sister," Percy spat. "They'll be suspicious if nothing happens tonight."

"I'm staging a gossip dig into the Wicked Witch of the East's rumored dragonfire warheads. Mirriah's gonna make sure Blondie Lockes takes the fall," Romeo flicked a bit of hair out of his face. "A little rumor here or there about how Blondie'll do anything for a scoop... how she'll even tag dignitaries and known villains with microphones... this could be the cover-up of the century. Which we wouldn't even need, if not for your mistake."

"You're passing up a museum heist of several legendary magic objects," Percy pronounced slowly. "In favor of a gossip dig. I always knew you were crazy as hell, Romeo, but this is a new low even for you."

Romeo smirked, knowing that Percy was only grasping at straws now. "Most people would be grateful for a night off work."

"Who says I won't show up anyways?" Percy narrowed his eyes. "Who says I won't just pull off the heist by myself?"

"Professor fuckin' West and his fatal curse security system, that's who," Romeo rolled his eyes.

"Still pissed you couldn't get him to scream, huh?" The corner of Percy's mouth twitched upwards, amused.

"He didn't even have the manners to pretend to flinch," Romeo grumbled. "Something about less painful than melting. Whatever. I got the information... though it's useless now."

"You finished the interrogation?" Percy's ears perked upwards.

"Everyone's got a weakness," Romeo smirked. He batted his eyes, "The professor's just happens to be a 'good cop' with a pretty face... and I just happen to have the prettiest face of all."

Percy snorted. Perhaps a little vindictively, "Your contour's still smudged."

"And you're not gonna get anywhere without these," Romeo waved a pair of gloves in Percy's face before snapping them away. "Curse conversion gloves, made to turn painful death curses into a superficial mani-curse. Specifically attuned to the runes used in the museum's security system... and the only other pair in the world belongs to Ashlynn Ella, the curator of the Enchanted Shoe collection. Held in the heavily-guarded Cinderella's Castle... where Briar Beauty is hosting the gala tonight."

"You really believe the professor just happened to have a spare pair of those lying around?" Percy questioned dubiously.

"He volunteered to make me a second pair. Practically fell over himself to do it when I let him have a peek at our lab," Romeo grinned wickedly, flexing an arm. "Helps that such a pretty face was doing the asking."

Percy rolled his eyes, having by far lost track of the syndicate members Romeo had won over in this way. He sighed, "Another one bites the dust."

"Can I help it if I'm the literal embodiment of love?" Romeo purred, feigning modesty for a half-second. Then, "Ryusei said they're legit. Shame we won't have a chance to use them tonight... maybe a few months from now, when the heat is off the Syndicate. After the Enchanted Shoes get returned to their owners, when floor security's less tight."

"The enchanted shoes are the only things in that place worth stealing for me," Percy scowled.

"You'll live," Romeo snorted. "We'll sell the other shit back for ten times what we stole it for. Maybe I'll keep some of the fairy-ritual knives for my collection."

"We're missing a chance to get our hands on Cinderella's Glass Slippers. The Seven-League Boots," Percy's fur stood on end. "The Red Shoes themselves!"

"It shouldn't be too large a loss for you," Romeo simpered. "Since you already can't stop dancing."

Percy felt a growl begin to bloom in his chest. "Fine. I'm leaving."

"By the way," Romeo added. "Try to show up to the Rogues' Guild Raid tonight. I hear the caterer is excellent."

"You know what?" Percy turned around in the middle of his exit, tail swishing viciously. "She is."

And with a final swoop of his tail, he slammed the door behind him.

--x-x-x-x-x--

It was less than twelve minutes into the evening when Celes Mochigome at last decided that this party simply wasn't worth staying at anymore.

Though the Rogues' Guild was a legally recognized group of fairytale-legitimate backstabbers, tricksters, and thieves of all moralities, she was still discomfited by the particular array of characters who had gathered that evening in preparation of the traditional attempted raid of the Centennial Charity Gala-- both of the parties a highly prestigious gathering in their own right, quite honestly.

It would look fantastic on her resumé, but she did not care to stick around, even in order to find out what the premier rogues of Ever After thought of her desserts. They were all pigs and thieves and honestly, it was probably sheer luck that Celes hadn't worn anything valuable tonight. She ignored the fact that she'd been advised on the matter significantly earlier that morning.

Percy-- not that she'd been waiting for him, or anything-- did not seem to be around, leastways not yet. Though she... supposed his company (though infuriating) was reasonably tolerable by comparison, it was not quite enough to make her wish to wait around for him, and she exited adroitly, crossing her arms as she departed.

It wasn't as if she was upset that he hadn't been there, of course. That was a ridiculous thing to be upset about-- particularly when it wasn't strange for the cat to show up even hours late. She was only a little... irate that she'd ended up catering this hot mess of a party instead of the Centennial Gala. Ginger Breadhouse, who had gotten that catering job, was a worthy pastry-chef to have lost the commission to, but Celes was feeling nonetheless inferior.

Her mother would have gotten the Centennial Gala, her mind unhelpfully supplied. Indeed, the only reason why her mother had not was because she was too busy catering the desserts of the gods themselves. The realm's most prestigious catering job, she remembered, and sighed as she slipped out of the bustling halls. The serenity of Sherwood's forest seemed a relief to her, the cool night air licking at her ears.

Suddenly, the sound of leaves rustling. Celes' ears twitched towards the sound, and in that moment, she frowned.

"What's a sweet little rabbit like you doing out here so late at night?" came a voice beside her ear as someone dropped down next to her.

"I'm just leaving," Celes huffed, turning faintly red. "After all, I'm not a rogue-- I've no reason to wait around."

"You were waiting for me? I'm touched," Percy smirked, stroking one of her silk-soft ears with a fingertip.

She caught his wrist, stopping him mid-touch, "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Because I like the way it feels," Percy shrugged, withdrawing his hand. He added slyly, "I think you like the way it feels, too."

"You are infuriating," Celes scowled, flinging his wrist from her. "I'm going home."

"Before we've even had a dance? You're killing me, Cel," Percy clutched a hand to his chest.

"You will show up at my window tomorrow morning whether I dance with you or not," Celes crossed her arms. "I said, I am going home."

"Aw, come on," Percy grinned easily. "Aren't you at least a little curious about what I'm planning to steal during the ceremonial raid?"

Celes rolled her eyes. "Gold, of course. Isn't that the tradition? You take the gold, and then you return it in exchange for being allowed to join the gala's fun."

"The tradition is that you have to give back the gold at the end," Percy crossed his arms, seeming self-satisfied. "Sparrow Hood said he's gonna go for a little bonus... Ashlynn Ella's jewelry. Romeo heard that his sister went as Dexter Charming's plus-one. Just friends. He's pissed about it... gonna steal Nerd Charming's crown."

"But that's not the tradition!" Celes protested.

"It is now," Percy shrugged. "Lighten up! It's just for fun."

"Ugh," she scoffed. "Rogues. Should I assume you're going to participate?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna see if I can pull one over Romeo," Percy winked at her. "Can't let you have all the fun."

"It wasn't my fault he could not recognize his own caterer!" Celes attempted to hide her smile behind her hand.

"He thinks I've 'lost my edge,'" Percy used air quotes judiciously. He bragged, "I'm gonna steal the gloves right off his hands."

Celes arched an eyebrow at him. "I think you are overestimating yourself. He'll notice."

"Not," Percy corrected, "If I catch him with his gloves off."

He imitated a lewd gesture with his own hand to explain his point.

"That is disgusting!" Celes smacked his wrist. "You're completely despicable."

"And you love me anyways," Percy wiggled his eyebrows.

Celes averted her eyes and tried to will the blush from her face. "You are being ridiculous."

"Charmingly ridiculous," Percy corrected.

"I'm going home," Celes announced, and trotted back to where her catering van was parked. "And do not think I didn't notice that a whole plate of each dessert I had prepared was missing from the shipment!"

"Oh, yeah, those," Percy brushed a bit of hair from his face as he leisurely followed. "I broke into Cinderella's Castle this afternoon and left them on the buffet table. You're welcome."

Celes froze mid-step. "What did you do?"

"I said, I moved some of your stuff to the Centennial Gala," Percy repeated. He jerked his head towards the bustling Rogues' Raid. "You think these guys are gonna appreciate fine dining?"

"No," Celes shook her head. She buried her face in her palms, "No, no, no, NO! My baked goods are not fit for royalty... much less the gods! I still have not attained the correct sugar ratio... I am still a disgrace to my mother's name! I swear to Grimm, Percy, you had better be lying again, or--"

"I left your business card taped to the front," he shrugged. "You can relax now."

Celes glared up at him. "I hate you."

"I'm flattered," Percy smiled back. "You can thank me in the morning."

"You," Celes began, her eyes narrowed and cheeks flushed with rage. At last, she could not find words sufficient enough to say, and stormed off.

Percy shook his head and walked back towards the party in her wake.

He'd never understood the logic in not bragging about your own talents-- whether they were talents one actually possessed or not. Celes wasn't doing herself any favors by selling herself short. She needed this push, he told himself, and shoved whatever remaining guilt he might have possessed to the back of his mind, exactly where it ought to stay. The Puss in Boots wasn't supposed to do guilt-- and Percy was his destiny, through and through.

Thus, with that in mind, Percy glanced down at his watch and estimated (quite correctly) that Romeo was on his fourth or fifth lay of the night, and it was the perfect time for Percy himself to strike. That collection of enchanted shoes had his name on it... with or without the Syndicate's help.

--x-x-x-x-x--

Celes woke up to the light of the sun upon her face, and that was when she realized that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

She rolled over in her bed and squinted at the clock. Certainly enough, she had slept in until nearly six, as was her custom on the days where there were no orders to fill-- a day for recipe experimentation and tweaking her least-perfect desserts. She looked around the room for a moment.

Then, cautiously, she lifted her windowsill and glanced outside. Nobody was there. Quickly, she checked under her bed. Nothing, save for dust bunnies and a misplaced sock.

She peeked her head into her apartment's main chamber, and found it empty, save for an unopened refrigerator. She checked that she still had milk, and then trotted downstairs into the industrial kitchens where she did the majority of her catering work. Nothing was missing, not even a crumb.

"This isn't funny!" she yelled out to the empty building. Nobody answered.

Celes scowled and wondered, briefly, if she'd been a little too harsh when dealing with Percy the night before. Had he at last taken her words... seriously?

"Well, fine!" she huffed to nobody in particular, yanking out a bowl and getting to work on a batch of muffins. "I'll get my work done twice as quickly without him. I'll have to fix all my recipes as soon as possible, especially because..."

She paused. Pursed her lips. Then, she checked her e-mail just to be sure she had not dreamed it.

One catering job from Briar Beauty... an offer of almost absurdly excessive pay in exchange for catering her cousin's wedding. One e-mail from spellebrity chef Ginger Breadhouse, enthusiastically gushing about her delicious desserts and very nearly begging to be taught how to make mochi. Several dozen more (useless, annoying) e-mails from some royals who had been wondering why they had never tasted her sweets before, for these were surely the most delicate in all of Ever After.

She felt a flush rise to her cheeks. They were lunatics, all of them-- had nobody in all of Ever After tasted a decent mochi before? Were they so severely deprived of edible sweets that they had liked even hers?

It was all Percy's fault, she decided, trying to be mad at him again. And thus, she shut the oven door on her latest blueberry-muffin variation, and changed into a set of real clothes, just in case he happened to drop by. That would certainly show him!

Still... she bit her lip. It wasn't normal for him to miss a dance.

He's probably bored of dancing with me, she decided at last, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she extracted the muffins from the oven. It would be foolish to worry about so loose-moraled a rogue, after all, and so she stamped down the thought that he might be bleeding out somewhere in an alleyway after a theft gone wrong.

... even though she wouldn't have put it past his "friend" to have done such a thing over a pair of gloves.

Celes shook her head and extracted the muffins, immediately getting started on a batch of banana-nut using a similar variation. It was an utterly foolish worry-- and good riddance if it were true! She turned the oven exactly one degree higher, the temperature she had already chosen as the best for this particular variety.

That was when the doorbell rang.

Her lips twisted into the moue of a frown. In all the time she had known him, Percy had never, ever used the front door.

Obviously, that means it's a prospective customer, she reminded herself chidingly. And thus she went to open the door: "Celestial Catering is closed--"

She was met with a badge shoved into her face. Her eyes trailed down towards the words that were printed on it: Fairytale Bureau of Investigation.

"We know you're closed on Tuesdays, ma'am," the baggy-clothed agent crossed his arms. "We have it from a reliable source that you spent the majority of yesterday morning and evening with a suspect presently under investigation."

The second agent, eerily silent, held up a single picture-- a selfie which had apparently been posted to Percy Boots' blog some two or three odd days ago.

Celes sighed, and wondered what Percy had gotten himself mixed up in this time.

"I do not appreciate my privacy being violated," Celes frowned. "But that is correct. Whatever foolish thing he's engaged in this time, I will gladly cooperate with the investigation."

The ill-dressed agent seemed satisfied with this answer. "We would like to ask you a series of questions about yesterday's... events. We are aware you parted ways at 10:44 PM... did he mention any crimes that he might be planning later that night?"

"Of course he did," Celes spoke slowly, raising an eyebrow. "He was participating in the Rogues' Guild Raid. Is it not a crime of tradition that comes around every one-hundred years?"

"We are aware of the state-sanctioned holiday," the agent agreed. "He did not mention any further crimes? How about in the morning?"

"He stole several plates of my baked goods and moved them to the other party," Celes tisked irritably. "He did not confess to it until that evening. Also, he said something about stealing a pair of his friend's gloves?"

The silent agent lifted their Revealer Rays. They offered the first agent a thumbs up.

The agent sighed and pressed his fingers to his head. "All right, all right. You can cross her off the co-conspirators list."

Celes furrowed her brow. "Co-conspirators?"

"This morning, when museum curators attempted to open up the Museum of Magical History, it was discovered that the entire night guard had been cast under the influence of Sandman Dust," the agent shook his head. "Several magical artifacts were found missing... including every pair of shoes belonging to the Enchanted Footwear display. We have reason to believe our suspect is a member of the conspiratorial group or crime gang involved in the disappearance of Professor West of Oz University... the designer of the same museum's security system."

"Percy? In a crime group?" Celes' eyebrows raised. She gave the picture a second once-over. "It doesn't sound impossible... I'm just not sure anyone can tolerate him long enough to form anything resembling a group."

The silent agent visually cringed.

"Yeah..." the other agent nodded. "That's pretty harsh. All right... we're gonna have to take you in for a more thorough questioning, just to see if you can help us find his whereabouts."

"I have work I should get back to," Celes stated shortly. "Can't you just do it here?"

"We're legally mandated to complete this questioning on government grounds," explained the other agent. "Actually, there's this theory that--"

The silent agent elbowed him. They shook their head.

"Anyways," the agent finished at last. "We can't engage in questioning in an unsecured location."

Celes sighed and turned her oven off completely. "I would appreciate being back here before noon."

"We'll do our best," the agent shrugged.

But Celes had taken fewer than two steps outside her door when she found herself being quite literally swept off her feet.

"What!?" she thumped a fist ineffectively against a familiar back. "Percy! What are you even doing here?"

"Saving you from government abduction," Percy growled, immediately tearing off down an alleyway, the two agents in hot pursuit. "You're welcome, by the way."

She shrieked as he leapt his way up a building, clutching at his shoulders so as not to fall off, "Can you maybe NOT?"

Percy rounded onto the roof. "You still mad about last night?"

"NO!" Celes yelled, beginning to go a little red in the face. "I'm not mad about last night! What did you even do to get the FBI on your tail?"

"You're exaggerating," Percy smirked, chancing half a glance backwards. "They're a little further away than 'on my tail...'"

Suddenly, the silent agent dropped down in front of Percy. They drew a pair of laser guns into their palms.

"Of course," Celes tisked. "Because having an armed agent two feet away is so much different."

"Would've been faster if I wasn't wearing stilettos," Percy looked at the silent agent for half a second. He grinned. "See ya."

Then, he clicked his heels thrice, and vanished.

--x-x-x-x-x--

"Percy," Romeo V. Cupid attempted to rub the hangover from his head. He grit his teeth, "I'm normally a shoot-first-ask-later guy, but just for you... ten seconds to explain before I put a bullet through your brain. You're welcome."

"I stole your gloves, stole the shoes, and stole the caterer," Percy listed casually, counting on his fingers. "The FBI hunted me down at Celes' place, so I used the magic shoes I was wearing. They took me back home."

"No place like home, my ass," Romeo grumbled. He gestured towards Celes vaguely with one of his guns, "She can't be here."

"Can you maybe not point that at her?" Percy pushed his arm back down. "It was either take her here or let the FBI abduct her!"

"Excuse me," Celes attempted to interject.

"They would've let her go eventually. She's a civilian," Romeo jerked his arm away from the grasp. "Now she knows things. Too many things to be alive..."

"What the hell, Romeo, I'm not just letting you shoot her," Percy attempted to wrestle the firearms from his grasp. "You're not gonna say anything about me busting in against your orders?"

"Excuse me!" Celes increased her volume to no avail, increasingly alarmed.

"Like you ever obey anyone's orders," Romeo snorted, sweeping a leg out in an attempt to trip him. "Must really care about this one, huh?"

"You're a bitch, Romeo," Percy snarled, yanking at the many thorned bracelets adorning the director's wrists.

He grinned wildly back. "I admit, I never thought I'd be breaking your heart, Percy, but it'd be my pleasure."

An unearthly, feline roar fell from Percy's throat as he scratched more insistently.

"Excuse me!"

"Fuck!"

And on that note, a gun went off, the sound reverberating through the air and bringing everything else to an absolute silence. Slowly, in turn, each pair of eyes cast around the room, trying to assess what had and had not been hit. And, in turn, each pair of eyes at last found their way to the doorway.

"All of you," Professor West glowered. "All of you are incredibly lucky that my doctorate is in physimagical explosion containment."

He lifted his hand, where a glowing orange orb now sat. It went out as he closed it into a fist.

Romeo scowled, mood made all the more foul by his throbbing hangover. "You didn't really want to do that, did you, sweetheart? I'd think twice if I were you."

"Only if you were me? What a pity," the Professor pressed his lips together. "Having thought only once in your life must be terribly unfortunate."

Percy glanced at Romeo, and smirked, seeming altogether too smug for a guy who had nearly just gotten shot.

Romeo lifted his gun and pointed it. The trigger clicked ineffectually. "Fix them."

"Perhaps after someone explains why the entire lab has been tasked with tracking FBI agents. I hope that isn't normal around here," West pulled a stoppered bottle from within his sleeve. "Also, I presume you require a hangover cure potion?"

"Mine," Romeo snatched it from his hand and downed the entire bottle. He glared triumphantly back in Percy's direction, as if he had won some sort of silent argument.

"I'd like to know exactly what is going on as well," Celes crossed her arms, her ears twitching antsily. "Like for example, why I have had so many guns pointed at me in the span of one morning."

"Okay, so maybe I told a little... fib when we met," Percy ran his hand through his hair.

"Yes. I figured as much," Celes bit viciously. "Just tell me if any of what I've heard is true. Crime syndicate? High-security museum theft? Kidnapping and murder?"

"Yes, yes, yes-- and like, one time, tops," Percy held up his hands. "That one wasn't on purpose. The guard had a heart attack when I broke in. Ro-- I mean, 'Director M '-- gets dibs on the assassinations. He likes killing things."

"I think I am aware of that, since I was almost one of them," Celes scowled. "You are utterly despicable! ... all of you!"

"Charmingly despicable," Percy winked.

Celes placed her face in a palm for half a second. At last, she decided, "I am going to leave. I would prefer to take my chances with the government, which has legal sanctions and reservations about shooting things."

"Ha," barked out Romeo madly. "Hahahaha! You think I'd let you leave to report all this to the authorities?"

A tap on the doorway, then, and Ryusei glanced in, flanked by at least half a dozen other lab technicians.

All eyes fell to him as he announced: "The FBI is presently on the move. Their devices indicate that this building has been found. Estimated time of arrival is roughly six minutes."

"Fuck," Percy cursed. "I was sure the slippers would throw 'em off our trail."

"Yes," Ryusei remarked, glancing down. "Though those stilettos do not appear to fit you."

"I wasn't asking," Percy frowned, hurriedly glancing around the room. "How did the FBI even find us? I didn't leave a trace at the museum."

"I have made this location untraceable to non-syndicate members," Ryusei shook his head. "Nobody else knows... except..."

Romeo seemed to understand first. "... Chariclo. They have my sister Chariclo."

"We're screwed," someone announced, and the room burst into a panic despite all attempts to remain some semblance of order.

But, while all this had been happening-- slowly, very slowly, and more quietly than she had ever, Celes had started creeping towards the doorway. As pandemonium at last broke out, she managed to slip away and work her way down the hall, searching for an exit.

It was probably not very sneaky, she realized, particularly when compared to the secret agents and assassins which must have frequented this building. However, the entire tech department seemed to have abandoned localized security in favor of tracking the Fairytale Bureau of Investigations, and at last, much to her relief, Celes came across a doorway that seemed to lead into an alley outside. It wasn't the most convenient, but it would do.

Then, with her hand on the doorknob, she froze. Her ears straightened.

She hesitated just a moment before pushing the door open, quietly as she could, and shutting it behind her. She took a deep breath. Outside, she was safely outside. Celes set off down the alleyway's exit, intent on returning home and at the very least finishing her muffins--

But then, dropping down from a nearby wall: "I thought I'd find you here."

Celes scowled, "How do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?" Percy grinned roguishly, pushing his hair back. "Looking effortlessly handsome?"

"Finding me!" Celes burst out.

"Finding rabbits is part of my destiny," the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "You could say it's in my pedigree."

"I don't want anything to do with you," Celes crossed her arms, refusing to make eye contact. "I don't want anything to do with you, or this crime syndicate thing, or anything else associated with you, ever!"

Percy, perhaps, for once in his life, gave pause at that. He glanced at her, curious for a beat.

"You don't really mean that," he smiled, but with perhaps a mote less bravado than usual.

"Yes, I do," Celes insisted. Then, perhaps a little more softly. "I really do."

(And she did not think about what those words could have meant, if they had been vows in lieu of rejections.)

"You mean it," something just a touch sadder than shock crossed Percy's expression for a split second, gone within a blink. He crossed his arms, his expression carefully neutral. "All right. Fine."

"Just fine?" Celes' eyes widened ever-so-slightly.

"Yeah," Percy shrugged, affecting confidence. "If you tell the FBI everything you know, they'll let you go right back to your regular, everyday, Percyless life. You were right about one thing-- the government's a shitton less risky than working for Romeo."

"He'll kill you if you let me go," Celes furrowed her brow for a second, unable to stifle those words within her throat.

"You're worried about me... I'm touched," he smirked, and tried to make those words seem less genuine than they really were. Then, carelessly, "Nah, I'll be okay. Cats have nine lives. I can spare a couple of 'em... can't let my dad get too far ahead of me."

"All right," Celes whispered. "Fine."

She was beautiful, he thought, her eyes as round as moons but soft, perhaps softer than he had ever seen them before. Her gaze met his for a split moment, before she looked away, taking one step, and then another, and another more until she was gone, out of the alleyway and in towards the blaring sirens of a life in the law, a life that Percy himself could never, ever dream to belong to.

And for the first time in his life, Percy Boots let someone else do the walking away.