"Well, where to?" Arthur asked, staring at the American with a disbelieving look on his face. The two were literally 1,744 miles away from London, as Alfred had kindly reminded him, and Arthur had no idea what was going on.

"The airport. I know a guy there that can get us to London as soon as possible." Alfred replied, not even looking back at the Brit as they crossed the street.

"You know a guy? What are you, a CIA agent?" Arthur scoffed, trying not to act impressed at Alfred's cool composure. Internally, Arthur was freaking out, but he put on a thick layer of sarcasm to make himself sound calm. The Brit had no idea how Alfred had kept himself so level headed.

"Almost. I was actually contacted by the CIA before I met Ivan. Long story. Once again, I'll explain later." Alfred responded, leaving Arthur with a baffled expression and a boatload of questions. Arthur could not seem to figure out the American. Who was Ivan? Why had they been kidnapped? Why does Alfred know St. Petersburg like the back of his hand?

Before he could even open his mouth to ask the questions, they had arrived at the entrance of the airport. Alfred put his finger to his mouth, signaling for Arthur to be quiet as they stepped through the doors. There were tons of people bustling around inside the airport, so Arthur had no idea why he had to be quiet, but he didn't protest. Arthur had to refrain from letting out a yelp as Alfred suddenly grabbed his wrist and yanked him into a supply closet.

Alfred quickly shut the door to the closet and flicked the light on, revealing shelves stocked with cleaning materials. The closet was tiny, so Arthur couldn't help his pink face as he realized how close the two were standing. Alfred didn't seem to notice. The boy had gone into full fight or flight mode.

Arthur watched as Alfred once again put a finger to his mouth to make sure Arthur was silent and shifted around to face the other way. Arthur watched as Alfred bent down and shifted a few bottles of bleach on the bottom shelf, leaving Alfred's butt rubbing against Arthur's crotch. Arthur's face turned bright red and he tried to back up to give Alfred more space but accidentally hit his head on the shelf behind him, causing Alfred to shoot up from his position to make sure Arthur was okay.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Alfred whispered, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Arthur simply nodded and shielded his scarlet face from the unknowing American. "Anyway, there's a crawlspace that leads to a room in the airport where we can talk to my friend Nikita. He'll get us on a jet back to London in no time. the American whispered, as if sneaking through an airport and boarding a plane without going through customs was something he did on a daily basis. Arthur looked at him like he had ten heads and the American laughed before motioning for Arthur to crouch down with him.

Arthur crouched down and widened his eyes as he noticed a door in the wall. Where the bleach had just been was now a small hatch with a handle. Alfred reached over and opened the door, revealing a dusty vent that was just big enough for them to crawl through. "We're going through that?" Arthur questioned, slightly concerned at the smallness of the space. Arthur was slightly claustrophobic and the crawlspace was very dimly lit.

"Don't worry. I'll be right behind you." Alfred reassured, giving a comforting nod as Arthur furrowed his brows. Arthur composed himself and took a deep breath, relaxing his tense body as he got on his hands and knees and crawled into the vent. Arthur crawled for a few seconds before his entire body was in the crawlspace. Taking a deep breath, he looked back over his shoulder and watched as Alfred gave him a thumbs up. Feeling a bit more confident, Arthur continued crawling, not knowing where the vent would lead. As Arthur continued creeping through the space, he heard Alfred crawl in behind him. Taking another look over his shoulder, Arthur watched Alfred shut the hatch to the crawlspace and continue crawling behind him.

"In a few minutes we'll reach a vent leading into the room. Do not, I repeat, Do Not go through the vent until I instruct you to do so." Alfred warned.

"Okay Mr. Serious. Anything else you want to instruct me on?" Arthur shot back sarcastically, not appreciative of Alfred's tone of voice. The American had sounded like a teacher talking to an elementary school student. Arthur wasn't used to being in the dark about what was going on. It was irritating him.

Alfred just chuckled at his bitterness and continued crawling until he had caught up to Arthur. After a minute or so of crawling, Arthur heard Alfred mutter something under his breath. "Would you like to share with the rest of the group, Mr. Serious?" Arthur asked, eliciting a chuckle from the American.

"I was just saying I don't mind this view." Alfred responded, causing Arthur to turn a deep shade of red. He was glad Alfred couldn't see his face.

"Git." Arthur grumbled before speeding up a bit. He didn't want to give Alfred the satisfaction of knowing he was embarrassed. After a few minutes of awkward silence and Arthur composing himself for the fortieth time that day, the two finally reached the vent. Arthur looked back at Alfred and the American once again had his finger up to his mouth to tell Arthur to keep quiet. There were two voices coming from the room where the vent led.

Alfred silently mouthed "what do you see" from behind him and Arthur looked through the vent to see two men conversing in Russian. One was a short man with a beard who seemed to be holding his hands up in defense as the other man snarled at him in Russian. The man who was raising his voice looked slightly more threatening. He was about six foot three with blond hair and violet eyes. He was wearing a long trench coat and looked angry.

Arthur turned back around to Alfred held up two fingers and tried to mouth what the guys looked like. Alfred looked concerned. Inching closer to him, Alfred managed to squeeze past Arthur and look through the vent for himself. Alfred spent a moment looking through the vent before shooting up and mouthing the name "Ivan". Arthur's face went sightly pale. The man had followed them.

Arthur waited for a few minutes as Alfred looked into the vent and listened to the conversation. After five minutes of staying completely silent and trying to stay as stiff as possible, Alfred finally lifted his head from the vault and whispered, "He's gone."

"He followed us?! What the hell is going on?" Arthur whispered, concerned for his own safety as he watched Alfred lift the vent grate.

"Ivan was asking Nikita where we were. It's fine though. Nikita led him to customs. We'll be able to escape smoothly." Alfred explained, still not answering any of Arthur's questions. Were they in danger? Who was Ivan? Who the hell was Nikita? What's going on? Arthur didn't know!

Arthur watched as Alfred set the grate down next to him and slid through the opening and into the room below. Arthur crawled closer towards the opening and looked down to see Alfred with his arms out, ready to catch him. "Just slide down. It's safe." Alfred reassured.

Arthur took a deep breath before sliding through the vent and dropping down into Alfred's arms. Alfred held onto him for a second longer than expected before Arthur grew embarrassed and pulled away, wiping the dust off his clothes. They were both still wearing the clothes they had put on for their date.

After wiping all the dust away, Arthur looked up and noticed they were in a small office area with a window overlooking the runway. Alfred pointed towards a jet sitting outside before saying, "That's ours."

"It's taking us back to London?" Arthur asked, looking up at the American with hope in his eyes. It had only been two hours or so, but he had never wanted to get back home as much as he wanted to in that moment. He wanted to get back home, he wanted to get back to his work, he even wanted to get back to Francis. He missed his ridiculous best friend. All Arthur wanted was a nice second date, but here he was, running away from a kidnapper in the middle of St. Petersburg. Though scary and definitely not ideal, Arthur couldn't help but admit he was having a tiny bit of fun. His life was so mundane compared to whatever the hell Alfred and him had been doing this entire time. Alfred was like an adventure movie that Arthur never wanted to stop watching.

"Yes, as soon as Nikita gets back we're getting on that plane." Alfred stated.

"Finally."