Chapter 20: CXCI-CC 1/2

Author's Note : Hooray free time. I actually have to work on Pawprints next, so any future updates will be after I finish and post that. Additionally… the story format is going to change after this. While I liked the thousand word shorts at a time for a short story… this isn't going to be short so that's changing. We'll have a ten-thousand word-cap per chapter still, but it will be more 'story' than 'snapshots'.

Edited (4/26/2017) - Minor story additions and grammar corrections.

Edit (3/21/2018) - Final formatting and minor corrections.

Edited (9/7/2018) - Minor corrections.

Russian Roulette : Reloaded

CXCI-CC

CXCI (Thursday the 5th of October, 1967. Mafia Land.)

Tatiana, who had a lot more free-time to just explore than Sonya ever had, took her younger foster sister to her favorite gym when she commented on needing to build up some of her lost skills.

It wasn't called such, it was officially a 'dance studio'. Mafia Land was a resort, however unlawfully inclined the normal clientele was it still had the wives and children of various criminals to cater to as well as the crooks themselves.

The Storm-Cloud found that a little sexist, what was she if not a criminal?

The redheaded Sun's favored dance studio was mainly just that, a building full of empty rooms with mirrored walls and a barre in most of them. There was, in the basement, an entirely equipped gymnastic training room... but little else of a more 'gym' bent.

Tatiana ignored Sonya's dubious expression, cheerfully reserving them a somewhat smaller studio for the next few hours.

Well... it couldn't be worse than Aleksandr's underground training room. The former pickpocket turned jewel thief would be surprised if the man had ever cleaned it himself, leaving that up to the younger generations going through his doors.

"So!" The safecracker turned nurse whirled on her little sister, distracting her from inspecting the automatically locking doorknob with an eye to pick it. "Renato Sinclair, spill. How did you meet tall, dark, and snarky?"

"Technically... he met me." Sonya corrected with a measure of bemusement, wondering why she wanted to know and unable to divine a suitably convincing reason on her own.

Curiosity, maybe?

"Back... way back, I think I was eleven. A few months before my twelfth birthday."

Looking entirely unsatisfied with that, her older sister planted her hands on her hips and pouted. "That's all you're going to give me?"

"Why not ask him?"

"I think he's avoiding me." She informed her cheerfully, as if that wasn't so out of character for her associate it was slightly concerning. "Sinclair made a personal copy of your Sun book, asked me a couple questions about the missing sections, and I haven't really seen him much since."

As the younger woman wasn't all that sure of the etiquette of one's hitman associate meeting a thief's foster sister either, so she supposed that might have been the safer bet until the thief herself was there to mediate. "Oh... okay."

"That's all you're going to say, huh?" Sighing in disapproval, the redhead practically bounced over to the barre and threw a leg up to start stretching. "So disappointed in you, Sonya."

"What? Why?" Baffled, the blonde nearly tripped over her own feet when she was still halfway across the room as she tried to understand what it was her older sister was disappointed over.

Tatiana spun around, looking like she was a breath away from saying something bitingly sarcastic or snarky, then blanched slightly at Sonya's confused stare. "Oh, no. Not like that. I swear."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Relax, Sonya. I was teasing." Holding up her hands, like you would to try reassuring a cornered animal, the redhead tried a slightly timid smile. "Sorry, forgot about your social awkwardness."

Exasperated, and feeling a little sore over the whole thing, she gifted her elder sister with a glare. "Try speaking plainly. Please. I'm a little young for a heart-attack."

Of course, then her sister continued to confuse her completely.

"What do you think of Renato?"

"...he's an ass." The thief started warily, encouraged by the nurse's nod and hand wave to carry on. "Flirts with everything that moves and is remotely female, although... I haven't seen very many ugly women on the island."

"And how does that make you feel?"

Still not following where she was going, Sonya gave her a sideways look as she finally reached the barre. "I... don't follow."

Another sigh, then the redhead elaborated. "Are you annoyed when he flirts?"

"Not really, so long as he doesn't do it when we're in the middle of a conversation." She admitted candidly, thinking back over years of coffee/tea meetings the two of them had for the last couple of years. "That is annoying, because then I have to figure out where his comment to me ended and where his flirting with the waitress begins."

Tatiana sighed yet again, sweeping her loose hair over her shoulder. "Somedays, I really do wonder..."

"Wonder what?"

"Never mind." Answered the Sun cheerfully, then gave her little sister a sly look. "So... are you still a virgin?"

Sonya froze, in a very uncomfortable pose. "...what?"

"You are, tisk. So sad, Sonya." The older Russian in the room grinned widely again, then leaned up against the mirror wall. Blatantly disinterested in getting some exercise in for the few hours they had the room for. "All that time out and about, and you never found someone that you wanted to jump into bed with?"

Scowling, the younger sister unbent and edged away from her. "Tats, I love you and all... but there are these things called sexually transmitted diseases. Some of the places I've been? Would not be surprised to learn they had a few of them lurking around."

"You have an answer to just about everything, don't you? Well... everything you understand, anyways." The redhead mused aloud sourly, batting one hand in the air as if to physically dismiss the point. "What about now that you're not babysitting our dorky foster brother in the wicked civilian world? Are you going to find yourself a man or not?"

"Cherep's not a... well, I guess he is. Kind of." Sonya corrected herself mid-sentence, her scowl fading into a frown. "And why would I need a man?"

"To reach the top shelf, of course." She informed her seriously, rolling her eyes after a moment and huffing a laugh. "To loosen up a little, hopefully. Maybe you won't be as uptight after a wild night or two."

"...how did we get from Renato being an ass to my non-existent sex-life?"

"Oh god." Hand firmly planted across her eyes, the Sun made a dismissive gesture in the air between them. "You know what? Never mind, Lisa can have this conversation with you."

She stared at the elder for a long moment. "...I still don't understand."

"I know. Not much help, am I?" She drew her hand down her face, then gave her a small smirk. "Seriously, put it out of your mind. You wanted a little help getting back in shape, right?"

"Why did you start a conversation just to end it like this?" Sonya asked instead, a little more than frustrated.

"Girl talk, which backfired rather spectacularly might I add." The redhead answered dryly. "You suck at it."

"...sorry?"

"Practice makes perfect." The smirk turned rather nasty all of a sudden. "And I intend to make sure you practice."

CXCII (Friday the 6th of October, 1967. Saint Julian's Hospital, Mafia Land.)

After twenty months of little physical training, except the weekly gymnastic and acrobatic training she could maybe sneak in under Jiayi's eye, Sonya wasn't surprised to feel as if someone worked her over with a metal bar after just the first day of keeping up with Tatiana.

Unfortunately, she also had to manage three contracts for Mafia Land and not just work on shaping up after her little 'vacation'.

"Actually, you don't." Tatiana corrected, while the foster sisters were taking lunch in Lisa's hospital room. "Since I am currently an employee of Mafia Land too, I have a storage unit of my own. I've been meaning to ask you about my stuff you've been storing, and we could totally just shove your stuff in with mine."

"You also have an apartment of your own you don't use." Their foster mother added dryly, stealing a little of Sonya's Chicken Lo Mein to supplement her own meal of Sweet and Sour Pork.

The thief let her, since she wasn't the one eating for two at the moment. "...that's-"

"Speaking of," the redhead carried on over the blonde, "I wanted to know if you wanted to share an apartment with me. Instead of getting one of the rinky-dink little singles. The doubles are a lot better in terms of space."

"That's -"

"You are kind of homeless at the moment, ya know."

"Tatiana. Let your sister speak." Lisa interrupted before she could carry on, looking faintly exasperated.

"But she'll say no!" Pouting, the Sun batted wide eyes at the older brunette. "Cherep had her for two years, I want some time too!"

"It's fine, Tatiana. If that's what you want to do." Sonya raised her voice at the beginning just to catch her attention, sighing when the redhead gaped at her. "I don't know what kind of roommate I'll be, so if you want to risk that...?"

"What risk?" Tatiana scoffed, looking both a little sheepish and mollified at the same time. "You're a neat freak unless it comes to books, then you might end up entombed by them."

Sighing heavily at them, their foster mother polished off the last of her younger daughter's Lo Mein and set the fork she was using on her hospital bed tray. "Sharing an apartment is a lot different than living in the same house, girls. Sonya, you also have to think of Bjǫrn and where he's going to live."

"We'll clean out a closet for him."

"We're not doing that." Sonya corrected in the next moment, faintly irritated. "How hard would it be to get a triple with only two of us?"

"Harder than I think you want to deal with." Lisa admitted a little wryly. "Thirty to forty contracts a year for a thief. Even with Tatiana, whose steady work here would probably amount to the equivalent of five to ten contracts?"

She barely managed five over the course of four months currently, so that probably was not within her grasp right now. "And if I qualify for a double then Tats and I apply to share an apartment?"

"That would be much easier. Very sly, sweetie. Twenty to thirty, but since you're about ready to work full-time?"

Tatiana looked faintly confused. "Then what are we going to do until you pull that in?"

"Lisa? How long can we abuse the Zolotovs' hospitality?"

"You two are Zolotovs, there is no way to abuse it." Their foster mother answered with a serene little smirk.

"We'll try out living in close quarters at the condo," Explained the Storm-Cloud for the redhead's benefit, "Bjorn could live in your apartment until we're ready to move in. If we decide it's not going to work out, I'll still need a double and he'd probably keep your place clean if we remind him to."

"Awesome!"

"You may hate me as a roommate." Sonya cautioned, still feeling rather pleased with herself for settling this. "Or hate my multitude of books."

"I'll hate your smoking." Predicted the nurse easily enough. "And you'll natter at me about cleaning the kitchen, or the bathroom."

"...I don't actually know how to cook beyond the simple basics Lisa showed us."

"Right, you clean and I'll cook."

With a snicker, their foster mother made a shooing motion at them both. "Off you two go then. I think I need a nap."

"Well... after finishing both your own and my lunch?" She ducked the flannel pillow she was certain was Arseniy's before it impacted her face. "Are you still hungry, Lisa? Because I still need to eat, and since somehow I lost all my food?"

Grabbing the younger thief's arm, the Sun ducked out of the hospital room before Lisa reached for the standard issued hospital pillows she was propped up on. "So, you can tease someone, but can't understand when you're being teased?"

"It's easier to get if there's a joke or something leading up to said teasing. Cherep figured that one out." Sonya admitted bluntly. "It's not that I don't understand, it's shifting mental gears to account for it instead of take it seriously. I apparently don't do it quickly enough."

"Noted." Tatiana slated a sly look her way. "Still going to insist you're not socially incompetent?"

"...shut up. I'm not that bad." She muttered sourly. "Awkward, maybe."

"Mmhmm, whatever you want to call it by."

"Don't you have work to be getting back to?"

"Don't you have a gym to be hitting?" The nurse countered cheerfully, with a completely evil looking smirk. "You look a bit sore, Sonya. Want a little help?"

Sticking her nose in the air, her younger sister slightly limped off to find something else for lunch.

Tatiana's snickers followed her out of the hospital corridor.

CXCIII (Monday the 9th of October, 1967. Mafia Land.)

The café Sonya liked had set out a little metal ashtray at her and Renato's usual spot.

It couldn't have been for anyone else, as the ashtray was anchored to the table by a couple artistic looking welds and was present on no other little café table around it.

The thief was a little confused, because it had been a while since she was a semi-regular customer. Appreciative nonetheless, she made a mental note to tip the wait staff a little better than normally and dug into one of the history books she had picked up over the last two years.

It was old, which didn't mean more accurate. Just more biased for the country it was for.

Sonya didn't get into it very far before a certain hitman took the seat across from her.

She had heard rumors of his return before he could track her down for once.

"You still want me to attend that Vongola party with you?"

Renato stole her pack of cigarettes off the tabletop, looking queerly at the Marlboro brand across the side as he plucked one of the premade tubes of tobacco out of it. "Are you still thinking about it?"

"If you made no other plans, I will go with you. I do want to see Shamal, after all." Sighing, the Russian marked her spot and set her book on the table.

The Inverted Sun lit his cigarette with the trick she showed him earlier in the year, tossing the pack back across to her. "Well... who am I to say no to little lady Sonya?"

"I could easily just not go, if you rather?"

With a disgruntled little huff, he sank backwards into the caf� chair and moodily glared across the table. "You spent all of the year thinking about it, and barely two months before it happens you decide to go along? What, exactly, will I owe you for this?"

"...owe?"

That pulled the hitman up short, and the man frowned as he took a very long drag from his stolen smoke. "Sorry, Sonya. I've had a very bad couple of weeks."

She nodded to the waitress that brought out their drinks but fixed the Italian with a mildly confused look instead of try a sip. "Do I want to know?"

"The famiglia I... for the lack of a better word inherited, had a few dealings before me of which came due." The Mafioso informed her bitterly. "So, I'm a bit... stuck, until I can sort it out."

"Tell them 'so sorry, should not have let them be taken over'?" The thief suggested, surprising a bark of laughter out of the hitman.

"If I wanted them murdered to a man after I was gone, that wouldn't be a bad suggestion."

Renato had a smirk on his face now, which she decided was better all around.

Pissy hitmen were... well, pissy.

Sonya flexed her aching calves absently, finally taking a sip of her rapidly cooling tea. "Right, so. This party, any color I have to avoid or conform to?"

"It's generally a thing to dress in your Flame colors." He informed her dryly. "Which one did you want to play with?"

"I was thinking red, with gold and purple highlights. Mainly in jewelry." She admitted, even if that suggested a Storm more than a Cloud from what he told her about the color choices... and a tiny bit of Sun.

No reason to give a solid warning if she could help it.

"You just adore confusing people, don't you?"

"A little, yeah." It made up for the times she got baffled over other people, so sue her.

Renato snorted at her, abandoning the cigarette he stole from her in favor of his espresso. "I can work with red and purple."

"Are you not going in yellow?"

"For you, Sonya, not me." He corrected her, just a touch drier than his tone had been before. "What are you going to need, anyways?"

"The jewelry, which I have to get done custom." Sonya started, a little confused. "And a dress, but I will get Tatiana's help for that. What in the world do you need to get me?"

"Generally, it's polite to get the lady something for the consideration of attending an evening out with oneself." The womanizing hitman informed her haughtily, with a small toss of his spiky head. "So, what would you like?"

She blankly stared at him.

He scowled back. "Are you going to be difficult about this?"

"...what is wrong with flowers?" She asked after a moment, now really confused.

She had expected that much, but what the hell was up with him?

It wasn't like she couldn't afford her own dress or jewelry, especially since she'd be the one supplying the stones for it.

Renato blinked at her, taken aback. "Flowers?"

"For my hair?" Sonya suggested, more than a little exasperated as she ran a hand through the shoulder length mass. "I suppose I will keep it this long until after this little party, but then I am getting it cut be more manageable."

"Ho... I can do flowers." The hitman gifted her with a bemused look. "Is that really all you want from me for this?"

"I am also taking up your suggestion of quartering me in Vongola's guest suites, so I can see Shamal, so... yes?"

He snorted into his espresso cup, lowering it to shoot her a rather crooked grin. "You might just be my favorite date so far."

"...just to be clear, we are going to spend most of the night either making snarky comments on our fellow mafia members' snooty behavior or mocking their brown nosing, right?"

"Definitely my favorite date."

Sonya was going to take that as a yes.

CXCIV (Saturday the 7th of October, 1967. Mafia Land.)

Fashions in late 1967 included mini-skirts only falling to mid-thigh, stockings in styles from fishnet to lace, bare arms and shoulders, paper dresses, box-dresses, a lot of bright colors, plaid, and vinyl.

Sonya vetoed most of it right off, to Tatiana's face. If she was going to be shelling out the cash for a high-society dress, she was going to get some decent mileage out of it.

She used some of the money she earned hawking a few extra pieces from various jobs over the years to pay for her jewelry, commissioning a set of Nordic inspired pieces in gold plated steel.

Given that it was Mafia Land, the fact the axes on the charm bracelet was requested to be sharp enough to cut flesh wasn't even blinked at. The thief got a weirder look for the Thor's Hammer pendant, which wasn't obviously a 'last-ditch' weapon.

To anyone aside her, that is.

Turning a few of her Bec de Corbins into additional if oversized bracelet charms wouldn't be too hard, except they had a silver sheen to them. She would use two of the tungsten ones as hair sticks, but she wasn't going to obviously wear them.

The Flame-resistant metal was still an unknown alloy, until she found someone that could identify them she'd stick to using the ones she did know what metal made them up.

The sisters argued over what, exactly, Sonya had or didn't have to do. Tatiana was of the opinion the thief would be representing Russian interests, which said thief wasn't entirely sure of. "I'm going as a plus one, not as someone invited on her own merit."

"As a what?" The redhead parroted back, entirely confused.

"A plus one, you know? 'You and a guest are invited to' such and such event, you and plus one." Waving a hand as if to pluck a way to describe it better out of the air, the blonde eventually huffed and resigned herself to doing badly at it. "Point being, I'm arm candy. Renato asked me to go to spare him the matchmaking attempts aimed in his direction."

She pouted up at her, having seated herself on the floor to stretch out her legs. "That's still not a reason to not look smashing."

"I'm not objecting to look smashing." Countered the younger sister out of exasperation, returning her attention to both draining her Cloud Flames through one of her Bec de Corbins and her upside-down stomach crunches hanging off the pole set into the walls by her knees. "But I will not be pandering to the latest craze of stupidity in fashion. There will be a snowball fight, so no one with sense would wear paper."

"So... basically all the mafia Dons' wives, pretty much."

"I don't know, some of them have to have a brain to live like that."

"I've met a couple. Probably minor ones, but they didn't really impress me as serious thinkers." Commented the older Russian with a one-shoulder shrug as she twisted herself into a split. "But you will be probably one of a tiny handful of foreign mafia people at this party, shouldn't you try to impress and dazzle them so they'll think better of Russia's underworld?"

"Next time, I'll tell him to take you." Sonya muttered, a little irritated by the party talk.

She had forgotten how annoying Tatiana could be when it came to fashion.

With a sigh, her elder sister rolled up off the ground with the grace a childhood of ballet training had impressed on them. "Alright, so you've got the boots and are in the process of getting your jewelry done. But we still need to find you a dress. Red, maybe with some purple, and not the 'shapeless bags' currently in vogue. Right?"

"Right."

"You know, Twiggy made being shapeless all the rage...?"

The former pickpocket slanted a flat look down at her foster sister. "I'm not Twiggy."

That fashion model had the body type any ballerina would envy, but both thieves in the room were a little too well built to pull the same look off.

"Fine." The redhead huffed, making an annoyed little mope in her younger sister's direction. "Let me see what I've got in my closet. There might be a style you'll like, even if it ends up being a little out of date."

"We can always modernize it a little after we find a style." Shot back the Storm-Cloud with a huff, allowing herself to swing off her polearm acting as a pull-up bar to the ground when she started to feel a slight burn in her abs.

It took her about two hours to drain herself of Cloud Flames now. Sonya wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, or even what it meant. When she had been fifteen, it took an hour and a half of constant use to do the same thing. She didn't feel any stronger, in fact she had let her Cloud Flames go for the last two years.

Her Storm Flames had seen more use, which did pay off in a tiny bit of control in it. she could light things on fire specifically instead of just watching everything go up in red Flames.

Well... it was progress of a sort. If she ever found out how to use her Sun Flames, then she'd be set.

(ooo000ooo)

(Wednesday the 20th of December, 1967. Mafia Land.)

Out of all the dresses and fashion magazines Tatiana had, the sisters eventually settled on a halter-top dress that fell to mid-thigh. A fitted bodice would prevent Sonya from conforming to the 'shapeless' style in fashion, and with no sleeves or shoulders and a bare back it at least fit into the current trends.

With that settled, she raced around from Ukraine back to Mafia Land for her boots and fittings, then helped her sister move her own books and the redhead's old teenager-era stuff into the other storage unit. Within that, she also had to pick up her finished jewelry and find the last few touches for her outfit as well as find something to give Shamal for Christmas.

By the time the week before her birthday, which coincidentally happened to be the week before the Vongola Ball, the former gypsy's apprentice was just barely done with everything she needed to do.

Had she still had to take contracts, she wouldn't have been able to manage it all and her retraining.

"You're still going to pick up Cherep, right?" Tatiana asked the thief as she checked over what she had packed for a few days long visit to Italy.

"On my way back, yeah." Sonya confirmed absently. "We might be a tad bit late, but we'll be here for Christmas. By the USSR calendar, anyways."

The nurse nodded in response, nibbling on her lower lip. "I don't think Lisa's going to go into labor anytime soon, but it might happen. I'll call if it does."

Their foster mother was now almost eight months pregnant. With the uncertainty over the mother's health to give birth, the doctors in charge of her case were sounding out both Lisa and Arseniy for a C-section instead of a labor.

The younger woman sighed, tossing her make-up bag onto her suitcase. "Thanks, Tats."

"Mmm... have fun."

CXCV (Friday the 22nd of December, 1967. The Iron Fort, Italian Republic.)

"Miss Sonya!"

"Shamal! Get back here, your imaginary friend isn't a reason to disobey directions."

"What the fuck did you just call me?"

A rather harassed looking nursemaid skidded to a halt in the middle of the foyer, openly gaping at the Russian Storm-Cloud glaring back at her while a tetchy Mist brat took refuge behind her legs.

Renato coughed, likely to cover a snicker, behind her. He also, noticeably, didn't bother to try to set either the maid straight on her existence or interfere between his thief associate and the older woman.

With a huff, Sonya dismissed the ignorant woman from her attention and looked down to Shamal. "Kid, why are you hiding?"

"She's mean." He informed her as if the thief was a little slow to catch on to the obvious, tugging at her pant leg a couple times.

She obediently bent to pick him up, absently noting how much he had grown since last year. "That isn't a reason to hide, that's a reason to irritate her until she quits in disgust."

The hitman shamelessly loitering in the background suddenly had an attack of coughs, which he was trying to hide his laughter behind.

He failed miserably.

"Shamal... what's this?" The Russian gently poked the kid's cheek, where a fading bruise was still apparent.

"He fell." Nursemaid that was fast getting on her nerves informed the both of them hesitantly, only to squeak when she shot her a disgusted look.

"I fell." Shamal echoed obediently.

"Try again, brat. I've been in enough combat practice to see what the imprint of someone's knuckles looks like after a few days."

Tetchy baby Mist scowled at her, but he was way too young to really convey any serious disgruntlement. "I got into a fight with Jacopo, but I kicked his knee and he fell on his butt."

She sniffed at the news, then gave an awkward shrug given she had about thirty to forty pounds of kid hanging off her. "Well, so long as you got the brat back for it I suppose it's alright. Next time try to make him think you're closer than you are using your Flames. The best way to avoid getting hit is to not be there."

Renato huffed, but whether in agreement or to clear his throat after his muffled laughter was debatable. He did reach over the thief's shoulder to use a bit of Sun Flames to clear away the last of the bruise. "Sonya, this lady is Daphne. One of the minders for the nursery Vongola runs."

"Yeah...? Don't care. She's both blind and easily led." Dismissed the Storm-Cloud in the room with a touch of irritation.

"She's also another Mist."

"Still don't care." She reaffirmed, shaking a finger under Shamal's nose. "That is a bad example of a Mist, kid. No imagination, unable to conceive of a 'supposed' impossibility, and way too gullible. Don't turn out like her, I don't associate with bad Mists."

He nodded seriously, which really was a touch cute.

Nurse who Sonya already forgot the name of huffed. "Excuse me!"

"You're not excused. Did or did you not call me 'imaginary'?" She scoffed, giving the appalled woman a sneer. "Maybe we should check to see if you're not the figment of some other Mist's imagination?"

Coughing again, that time to either cover another laugh or to gain attention like he had, Renato planted a hand on the thief's back and gave a light push. "Sonya, Miss Daphne, we're becoming a bit of a spectacle. Thank you, Miss Daphne, but we'll take Shamal from here."

Looking around curiously while resisting the guidance simply on principle, the lone Russian noted that the hitman was right. A fair number of people were gawking in their direction, craning their necks around various doors and halls that branched off from Vongola's grandiose main entranceway.

"The children have history class now." Said nurse who had a backbone if no brain cells insisted, reaching out to take Shamal from the blonde's arms.

She froze when Sonya pinned her in place with a glare that begged her to be that stupid. "He said we'd take the brat from here, miss."

Renato's hand immediately disappeared from her back, and the nurse gave another squeak.

Shamal hugged her around the neck. "You look really pretty, Miss Sonya."