Of Physicists and Pianists.

chapter two.

"I fail to see why I have to be involved in this." Vash complains loudly from where he's leaning against the Arrivals board in the central terminal of the airport.

"Because they're your friends too." Francis replies quickly, scanning the board behind the twenty year old and looking for the flights they're waiting for.

"I'd like to remind you of the fact that I can't stand Gilbert." Vash replies with a frown, opening the messenger bag over his shoulder and dragging out one of his thick Physics textbooks. "Now do you mind if I do the required reading on string theory?"

"Go ahead." Francis raises his eyebrows. "It sounds fascinating, I'm sure. But Antonio's due to be here in a few minutes."

"Oh, wonderful." Vash snips back, thumbing through the pages until he finds the right chapter. "Just what I needed; a perpetually cheery Spaniard. Great."

"You like him really."

"I suppose someone has to."

Francis laughs, turns to look at Vash, who has since settled himself into one of the moulded plastic seats and is reading from a thick and dull-looking tome with tiny print. Theoretical Physics is written in big, embossed letters on the front.

"Oh, by the way, you do know I leave for Massachusetts tomorrow, right?" Vash asks without looking up from his book.

"Yes, you told me. Several times." Francis laughs quietly and moves to take a seat next to him. Except he doesn't actually make it to sitting down, because he gets halfway when a pair of tanned arms suddenly wrap themselves around his waist.

"Francis!" Antonio's voice echoes loud across the terminal floor, and Vash drops his head into his hands in despair.

"Hey, Antonio!" Francis replies, turning around to embrace him. Vash spots the three people standing behind them then, and is about to ask who they are and if he actually knows them when Antonio releases Francis and comes over to him.

"Vash, it's been too long! How are things?" He grabs Vash from his seat and hugs him, and Vash awkwardly taps him on the back in an attempt to get him to let go and leave him alone.

"They're good, I suppose. Been better."

"You'll have to tell me all about it!" He announces, letting go and holding Vash at arm's length to survey him. The blonde frowns at him until he finally lets go of him.

"Now, I must introduce you to my friends." He turns around to the other three men who are staring at them with a variety of expressions, from sheer confusion to a look that seems to say oh god why do I know you.

"This is Lovino." Antonio leans to reach for the hand of one of them; a particularly angry looking Italian with an unruly curl of auburn hair sticking up from the middle of his parting. They hold hands for a grand total of about three seconds before Lovino wrenches his hand away from him.

"He's shy." Antonio reasons with an airy laugh, apparently not phased by this reaction. "But I love him."

He leans into Lovino and wraps an arm lazily around his waist, presses a kiss against the side of his head. Lovino just glares at him and pushes him off.

"And this is his brother, Feliciano." A much cheerier boy who looks a lot like Lovino waves exuberantly at them, one hand still holding on to the hand of the surly blonde next to him. "And his boyfriend, Ludwig. He's Gilbert's brother."

The blonde raises a hand absently but stays silent, surveying Vash and Francis with steely blue eyes.

Antonio is about to launch into a rousing story about life in Las Vegas –apparently there was this one time with a stripper outside the photographer's studio that just would not move away- when Roderich and Elizabeta come barrelling up next to them.

"Did we miss anyone?" Roderich asks, looking at the group of them. Vash rolls his eyes.

"No. Antonio's just got here. We're still waiting on Gilbert." Francis replies, moving to stand next to Vash as they watch Elizabeta look over Antonio a few times. The Spaniard doesn't seem to care, if he even notices at all, and hugs Roderich. He's just going through the introductions again for their benefit when a silver-haired blur comes into view and practically jumps on Ludwig.

Ludwig groans audibly and turns to try and dislodge Gilbert from his shoulders, and eventually succeeds and narrows his eyes at him. Gilbert is already distracted, however, and comes running towards Vash and Francis.

"Francis!" He yells, dragging out the 's' sound and scooping Francis up, spinning him around like it's some kind of Hollywood romance movie reunion.

"Er, Gil, don't you think..." A tiny blonde man appears in the background, but no one seems to acknowledge or even notice him. He trails off his sentence and hangs his head. Vash spots him then, as he lifts his head up and straightens his glasses. Vash gestures for him to come over, and by the time he's standing in front of him, Gilbert has finally released Francis.

"Oh, everyone!" Gilbert practically shouts, throwing an arm carelessly around the other guy's shoulders. "This is my boyfriend, Matthew. Isn't he cute?"

Matthew winces and holds out a hand to Vash. The other blonde looks at him before he shakes his hand.

"Um, I think you might know my twin brother? His name's Alfred, he-" He stops himself when he notices Francis visibly tense up, eyebrows furrowed.

"Wait, Alfred? Didn't Heracles say Alfred was the one who-" Vash starts, but Francis nods curtly and cuts him off.

"Yes. Yes he is."

"Is there something I should know?" Matthew asks, confused. "I swear to god, if my stupid brother's done something terrible again, then I am so sorry. Did he break anything? I'll pay for it to be fixed, god he's such a klutz!"

"It's nothing." Francis replies brusquely, moving past him to go and talk to Antonio, who appears to be regaling Gilbert with stories of his antics in the modelling industry.

"Is he alright?" Matthew asks, watching as Francis leaves.

"He'll be fine." Vash replies quickly, carding his fingers through his hair and straightening it out. "Your brother is kind of an ass, though. No offense."

"None taken." Matthew replies with a small nod. "I know he's an ass; I grew up with him. He was probably an ass when he was in the womb, to be honest."

"I'd say that's entirely plausible." Vash agrees with a small smile. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but I should probably go. I'm flying to the east coast tomorrow, so I should probably go and sleep."

"Nice to meet you, too. I'll see you around." Matthew says with a small smile. Vash nods and moves over to Francis.

"I'm going home to finish packing for tomorrow. Are you staying or do you want a ride?"

"I'll stay. I can get a cab." Francis replies quickly. Vash nods.

"Look, don't do anything stupid, alright? Don't sleep with someone you shouldn't. I don't want to hear it."

"Now, why would I do something like that?" Francis smirks, and Vash frowns at him. Francis laughs at him. "I won't. You get home and sleep, you'll need it. I'll see you later."

Two days later, when Vash is holed up in a hotel room in the middle of Cambridge, Massachusetts, he gets a quick text from Francis.

Have you heard?

He frowns, but thinks nothing of it and doesn't reply. He throws his cell phone down on to the hard hotel mattress and carries on working.

"Hey, does this look right to you?" His temporary roommate and supposed friend Toma asks him, holding out his notes. He reads over them a few times, trying to decipher the scrawl before he nods.

"Yeah, those look okay." Vash is just about to tell him that he needs to graph out the last question when his cell phone vibrates again. "Hold on."

He glances at it and discovers that Roderich is, for some reason, calling him. He throws his own working at Toma and tells him to copy it, before he grabs his cell phone and heads into the bathroom.

"Whatever you want, it had better be good. It's eleven and I'm trying to do something productive." Vash snaps as soon as he answers.

"Well, hello to you too, Vash." Roderich laughs down the phone line and Vash narrows his eyes at himself in the mirror. "I just called to tell you something."

"So tell me so that I can go and get on, if you don't mind." Vash leans against the bathroom wall and absently counts the tiles on the opposite wall while Roderich waits to talk.

"Now, now. Patience is a virtue." Roderich teases, and Vash groans at him. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm getting married."

"You're what?" Vash exclaims, suddenly bolting upright and staring wide-eyed at the wall. "Did you say-"

"I'm getting married!" Roderich says, louder this time, and he sounds so unashamedly happy that Vash almost can't bring himself to be sad. Almost.

"I took Liz out to dinner and asked her over dessert. She said yes! Can you believe it? I'm getting married!"

"So you've said." Vash says, pinching the bridge of his nose with thin, shaking fingers. "I'm happy for you. Really."

"You don't sound it. Are you alright?" Roderich muses, and Vash can almost imagine his face –head cocked slightly sideways, eyebrows just knitting together and his eyes confused and probably a little bit hurt.

"I'm fine. Congratulations."

"Will you be my best man?" Roderich asks after Vash stays silent for a minute or two. "You are my best friend, after all. You'll get to embarrass me with a speech on the day, you know."

"Sure, I'll be your best man. I will be bringing up that awful haircut you had when we were ten, though. Don't think I won't."

"I didn't expect anything less from you, to be honest." Roderich laughs almost girlishly, voice crackling over the poor connection. "Quite frankly, I'd have been disappointed."

"Oh, don't worry. It will be the most humiliating thing ever to happen to you, I want you to know." Vash half-laughs, harsher than usual as his voice almost cracks. "You will never live it down. Never."

"Thanks." Vash can hear the smirk in Roderich's voice even though he can't see him, and it makes him smile despite everything. "I suppose you want to get back to your precious physics stuff now, right?"

"Yes, I think I'd better. I think they want to look at it tomorrow. I'm glad I didn't come to MIT in the end, you know. They work you like dogs, it's insane."

"Well, enjoy. I hope it's as fun as it sounds. I'll see you when you get home."

"Yeah. Look after yourself, I'll see you soon."

The line goes dead and Vash exhales shakily, closing his eyes and resting against the wall behind him. He stands in silence for a moment before he fumbles with his phone to call Francis.

"Ah, bonjour, mon petit Suisse." Francis says as soon as he picks up the phone.

"I've told you, don't call me that. I am not your anything." Vash snaps immediately. "And you didn't think to tell me he'd gotten engaged? You didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

"I'm sorry! I thought he'd have told you first, that's why I asked. Are you okay?"

"I'm great. Peachy, if you will." Vash replies, voice cold and almost monotone. "Really? You're asking me that? How do you think I am, you ass?"

"I'm sorry." Francis is quiet now, and sounds at least genuinely remorseful. "I know it must be hard."

"Correct. It fucking sucks." Vash huffs, and his voice is starting to sound watery and he hates it because he knows Francis will pick up on it.

"Are you crying?" Francis presses, voice quieter still and sounding legitimately concerned. "It'll be alright, Vash. I know it's hard now, but-"

"I'm not crying!" Vash shouts, louder and crueller than he means to. "I just feel like I want to."

"It'll be okay. It might not look like it, but it will. I promise."

Vash groans to himself, sniffles miserably, and he sighs, breathing shakily as he drops his head back against the wall behind him.

"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to look at him." Vash admits quietly a few moments later. "I said I'd be his best man, too. Was that stupid?"

"A little." Francis agrees. "But you're his best friend above all else, aren't you? I just hope you're a good actor."

"Thanks." Vash deadpans. "But you're right, I think. I should value his friendship over the fact that I love him, right? Whether he's getting married to someone else or not."

"Yes." Francis agrees quietly, as if he's going through some kind of revelation of his own. "Yes, you should. I think you should talk to your sister, too, if you have chance. See her, if you have the time. I know she's only fourteen, but she's also a girl. She's probably good with these things."

"I'll see if I can see her. Thanks, Francis." Vash says after a long exhale. "I do appreciate it. I'll see you in a few days."

"I know. It'll be okay. Give Lilli my regards if you manage to contact her. Bonsoir." Francis finishes.

"I will. Goodnight."

This, Vash figures, is probably how he ends up sitting on his own in a tiny little cafe around the corner from his childhood home. He's about to text Lilli to ask where she is when she appears around the corner, grinning and dragging someone behind her. She hasn't changed much since Vash left for college, except she's maybe a little taller and somehow even more exuberant.

Vash hugs her tight when she runs up to him and he smiles at her, properly smiles, for the first time in weeks.

"You've cut your hair." He comments as she sits opposite him. The boy with her fumbles awkwardly. "It kind of looks like mine."

He leans over the table to flatten down the sides of her unruly, wavy blonde bob.

"Do you like it?" She smiles. "I was sick of the plaits. They were getting too long."

"It looks good." Vash admits with a small nod. He gestures at the boy next to her. "Now, who's this?"

"Oh, this is Erik. He's my best friend." She grins, elbowing the boy next to her. He doesn't look too pleased to be here, Vash notes, and watches as the kid carefully examines the puffin embroidered onto his letterman jacket. "He's on the school basketball team."

"Uh-huh." Vash replies, clearly dubious as the boy finally looks up at him. He looks like he's scared, or at least very nervous.

"Now, what happened with Roderich again?" She asks, straightening the blue ribbon in her hair –Vash had bought her it for her tenth birthday. "You sounded pretty upset on the phone last night."