Ivan sat behind a neat desk, looking every bit the successful business man from his sharp clothes to the sharkish smile on his face. Only, his favorite scarf remained no matter the season it was outside. His own office stayed chilled. He'd just started farming out all the important tasks for other people to do when the door opened. His secretary, Toris, stepped in.

"Sir, did you see the magazine article? It's front page."

Yes Ivan knew it came out that day. No he didn't look. He shook his head. Toris dropped the magazine on top of his desk. The front cover comprised of a rather handsome picture of him, looking older than his years and mature, and so much like his father. Across the top it said his name and below, CEO of the Most Powerful Company in the City. Which might have been exaggerating it a bit.

"They're selling them everywhere," Toris said. "Kiosks, the mall, coffee shops..."

"Hm."

"Everyone will know your face. Everyone will want to know you."

"Yes, I do think that would be nice," Ivan finally grinned. "It would be very nice if people like me."

Alfred watched as Matthew walked away after their lunch to get back to class. It sucks that he couldn't figure out what had been bugging him. He made a mental note to ask again later. As he was finishing up his own meal, he looked around the coffee shop they had chosen to eat at and noticed some magazines. Curious, he got up and went over to look at them. Imagine his immense surprise when he saw the Commie Bastard from the club on one of the front covers. He picked it up and began looking through it.

Ivan's family had always been rich and powerful because of the company. His father's sudden death left Ivan as the heir and suddenly a face to notice as the twenty-three year old CEO. It really had all been sudden. Just as Toris turned to leave the office, he called after the young man he'd known for a long time. "Do you really think they'll like me now?"

"U-um...of course!" Toris stuttered, sounding like he tried too hard to smile. He fled before Ivan could thank him for the answer. Did he have to pee really bad or something? Ivan only asked him one question. Sighing, the Russian man pushed away from his desk. Maybe he should go out and buy some of those eastern European candies that the store across town sold. If he gave those to his employees, they'd definitely smile more.

Alfred wasn't sure what to think of the article. It had to be some sort of Commie trick, right? There was no way this was real. It can't be otherwise everything he knew to be true would be wrong. And he didn't like to think of that. He took a long walk through town, thinking about this. He had to find a way to confirm this information. That's what a hero would do, after all! He stopped walking and looked around, wondering how far he went. He noticed he was next to a candy shop and his stomach let out a growl at the thought of having some. And who was he to deny his stomach something. With that in mind, he went inside.

The candy store was something quaint and out of place. Since they were owned by a Slovak couple, they specialized in goods that couldn't normally be bought in America. To many immigrants, it was a taste of home. Ivan pushed the door open, smiling at the sound of the bell. It reminded him of childhood, if not home since he'd been born in America. But his father had been an immigrant and one of those zero to million stories at that. Ivan didn't pay much attention to the others in the store and greeted the elderly shopkeeper before browsing through the selections of food, looking for the candies he'd heard Americans say tasted like soap.

Alfred looked around the shop, not really noticing who was already in there. But when the bell rang again, he looked up and froze where he was when he saw who it was. It was the Commie! Now was his chance to spy on him to learn his evil secrets! He ducked around a shelf to hide and peered around to look at the man. He couldn't help his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched. There was something about this guy that he just didn't like and it was bugging him. He was determined to learn his secrets.

The shopkeeper smiled back at Ivan and the two chatted as he shopped. "Mr. Braginsky, it's been a while since I saw you. I'm sorry to hear about your father's death."

Ivan nodded his head back. "Yes, it was quite sad." Despite what he said, he didn't sound all that upset. Instead, he lifted a toy and messed with it with an amused expression before deciding that it would be nice to buy. He collected a handful of candy and set them all on the counter. It seemed no one there was in a hurry though.

"I just got some books in their original Russian print. Might you be interested?" The shopkeeper asked.

Ivan brightened up immediately. "Yes! That would be lovely. I find myself missing Russian nowadays." His father had been the one speak the language exclusively in their home. The shopkeeper nodded and disappeared to the back store in search of the books while Ivan leaned against the counter to count his money.

Alfred stared intensely at the Russian man, completely devoted to his task of spying. He could see him talking to the shopkeeper, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. So he slowly moved forward, eyes trained on the other man. He was so focused on being silent that he didn't notice one of the displays that he crashed into and knocked to the ground. The noise snapped him out of his focus and his eyes dropped to the ground as well as the rest of his body. "Sorry! I'll clean this up!" he instantly exclaimed.

Ivan snapped around at the sound and instant apology. The one other person in the store stared too because this wasn't a place for loud Americans and this kid made such a noise that anyone would notice. Ivan's eyes narrowed when he saw who sprawled across the floor. Didn't he look familiar? Squatting down in front of the fallen boy, he let loose a smile because he was sure now that this person punched him not that long ago. "It isn't nice to mess up other people's shops."

Alfred glared at the Russian. "I said I was sorry and I'm cleaning it up. And I'll pay for it." he told him. He really didn't like this guy. This was clearly an accident and he was doing the responsible thing and taking care of it himself. He knew people who would have just run out of the store without even apologizing. That was just rude and he was raised better than that.

Ivan chuckled. It was amusing how flustered this kid got. He seemed like just another rude American, but he didn't seem all the fierce right now. He seemed...Ivan stopped himself from thinking the word cute. Shaking his head, he picked up the basket that once held little bobbles and set it on its stand. "Let me help." He didn't acknowledge the American in any other way, but simply started picking things up because he would not want his Slovak friend to see this mess.

"I don't need your help." Alfred muttered to himself, not really caring if the other heard him or not. He instead just focused on picking the things up. Once everything was picked up, he stood and stretched. He looked around and grabbed a random bag of candy, since that was what he came in here for anyway. He just wanted to get something and leave after this embarrassing event. Luckily it didn't seem like the Russian knew he had been spying on him. That would have made the whole thing worse.

"Really? And here I was being nice," Ivan mused. He put down the thing he was holding and decided that he'd just leave the other to finish the job since he obviously didn't want Ivan's help. Americans could be so weird. He wandered back to the front in time for the shopkeeper to return with a stack of five books, each heavy bound and old looking. They talked over the price, haggling as was their nature before Ivan paid and slipped out the door. He didn't keep walking though and instead waited against the wall outside. Because he was in a good mood, he felt like harassing the kid more. Maybe this time he would get his name.

Alfred waited for his turn to pay, watching the two haggling over price. When it was finally his turn, he paid a little bit extra since he felt bad about knocking over the display and let them keep the change. On his way out the door, he opened the bag and ate one of the candies, making a face at the taste. He didn't notice the Russian waiting out there. Just turned and kept walking, wondering if he would be able to trick Matthew into eating these for him.

Ivan smiled when the blonde finally walked outside. He made an amusing face and it made Ivan smile more. "I see you like the candies," he said as he stepped into view before falling into pace next to the American. It was hard to tell from his tone if he meant it or spoke sarcastically. Ivan of course, loved the taste of those candies. "But it's quite unexpected to meet you here. Isn't it wonderful?"

Alfred would swear on his life that he did NOT jump when he heard a voice suddenly speaking to him. "No. It isn't wonderful." he told him, glaring at the Russian man. "And these candies are disgusting. They taste like soap." he added. He was really regretting going into that store. Why couldn't he have just waited to go to the candy store near his apartment? It would have saved him so much trouble.

Ivan's grin increased. "Soap? You've eaten soap before?" He asked in his most innocent voice. He couldn't imagine that the candy tasted like soap, but he'd never ingested the substance so it could be so. "They are a beloved treat to many eastern European children." He held out the bag full he'd bought. "See, I've bought all of these for my friends!" It wasn't quite right to call the staff that worked for him as friends, but it made Ivan feel much better to say so.

There was no way Alfred was going to admit that his dad had once washed his mouth out with soap. It was a taste one doesn't ever forget. He couldn't help but scoff at what the other had said. "Friends? What friends could you possibly have?" He asked. He knew it was being mean, but from what he could tell of the guy, he was a creep that drove people off. So he tried not to feel bad about his mean words.

A frown pulled down on Ivan's lips, this time far more real, though he wouldn't show it. It hurt to be made fun of so casually by some kid. And he'd been making polite conversation too! "That's not a very nice thing to say," he complained. "Are you saying you are doing much better in the friend department than me? Because I somehow doubt it." Some bite colored his words as his eyes narrowed. This kid would do well not to piss him off.

"Of course I'm doing much better in the friend's department. I'm not a crazy Commie Bastard who spends my time terrorizing other people like you do." Alfred stated. He wasn't afraid of this guy. He was strong enough to handle himself in a fight. Even against a guy as big as the Russian. Just like he did back in the club. So, if it came down to a fight, he was sure he would be able to win.

When Ivan smiled again, everything about it looked cold. He liked to smile and didn't often show this true face of his, but somehow the American brat brought it out so easily. "What do you know about me?" he said in a quiet tone just as filled with ice as his smile. "I am an American citizen, not a...communist as you say." He started walking away, but he couldn't make himself before he temper got the best of him. Ivan turned, not even a smile on his face now. "And I think you are the only one who thinks you have friends because no likes a rude little brat."

Alfred's hands clenched into fists. How dare he say that about him! He didn't know anything about him! He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't stop himself from surging forward and punching the guy square in the jaw. He knew he was going to be in a lot of trouble. Especially if his father found out. He had been warned many times that he needed to stop jumping into fights or he would have to be punished for this behavior. But he couldn't help it! This guy just pushed his buttons the wrong way.

Ivan turned his head with the punch. He expected it this time and his eyes flashed with anger in response. He grabbed the kid's wrist and held it before he could withdraw it from the punch. "What? You don't know words well enough to use them? You have to speak with your fists?" he taunted. "How...American." After a second, he let go with a snort of disgust. So much for his good mood, Ivan once again tried to walk away.

How dare he imply that being American was an insult! Alfred was starting to hate this guy more and more. "At least I'm not a creep who can't take no for an answer." he taunted back, remembering back to the night at the club where the Russian was clear pushing himself onto that weird albino guy. It was guys who did that who were at the top of his hate list.

Ivan's foot faltered. He closed his eyes, told himself to walk away. The implications of what the American said hit him though and Ivan couldn't help but spin around again, his hands clenched in his scarf. "What's wrong with trying to make a few friends? Don't I deserve to not be lonely too?!" he exclaimed, forgetting his earlier lie that he had friends. In that second, he sounded less angry than plain desperate. Ivan wanted not to be alone so very, very badly. A creep? He didn't know or care if he was. If he didn't take things, he'd never get anything.