Spilled Secrets (Tre and Pieter)

Pieter sat at a table, leaning over the table in an antisocial fashion. He was content with twirling a glass in water between his fingers all night, but he knew that his dining partner would arrive soon.

Tre. He hadn't seen him in years, even since he had moved all the way to America. Now that loser and his idiot father were back in Russia, working under the Popov branch again. Pieter had been good friends with the boy in a younger age, way before he knew about the family business. And he wasn't talking about firewhiskey.

That stupid business was why Pieter had to speak with the American. If he told someone...

Pieter didn't want to think about it.

Tre stepped into the resteraunt with a smile and a wink at the waitress that walked by. She stopped in her tracks and stared at him, but Tre kept walking, stopping only when he stood next to the table of his childhood friend.

He was wearing blue jeans and a casual white t-shirt that showed his toned arms and chest. He could feel the cold, but it didn't really bother him.

"Pieter." He greeted, a smile belying the serious tone in his voice.

Pieter looked up at the boy with a forced smile before standing up and pulling him into a hug.

"Tre, long time no see," he smiled, adjusting his glasses, "Have you seen anyone else in the family yet? I am sure Iva wants to see you," He added sarcastically. His father used to joke about Iva and Tre's marriage and the girl had loathe him ever since.

"Sit down," he gestured to the chair across the table, "We have to talk about things,"

Tre hugged his old friend, raising his eyebrow at the forced smile. Well, it would seem that old Pieter Rabbit wasn't as hippity hoppity as he remembered.

"I haven't seen any of the Popov's other than you, Bunny." He said with a wicked grin as he sat across from him. "I've been mighty busy, setting back up for Father's welcome home party." Tre wrinkled his nose at the thought, knowing that once you left a sector to set up a new one, to come back you have to be beaten back in. Tre had already had that honor, and his father, being a higher up, had to get it twice as bad.

"What is there to talk of, then?"

Pieter sat in his chair with a laugh, remembering all the "Peter Bunny" jokes. Merlin, it was so long ago, he had barely remembered!

"You and Alex used to call me that all the time!" he laughed, "You remember Alex, right? The neighbor boy?" Pieter decided to leave out the fact that, up until a few days ago, the two were dating, since most guys didn't react well to that.

"Ach, I'm sorry about that. I remember when I had to have that done. I still have that scar on my back," He gave a quick glance to the room, making sure no one was listening. "You know we can't talk like this is school, right? I'd get in trouble,"

Tre smiled at Bunny's laughter. He could tell that Pieter had needed a laugh.

"Ah, Alex. I remember... I missed you two." He grinned.

Tre sighed. He would be a lot more apprehensive, but it just felt so good to be home. "I had mine last week." He said with a sigh. "It was pretty bad." He rolled his shoulders to try and get some of the tenseness out. "Of course we aren't. I, for one, definitely want to live."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that all, Bunny?"

Pieter picked up his water class and took a long drink, relaxing around his old friend. He had been nervous at the beginning, but it was just Tre, not some stranger.

"You two should hang out some time," he said, trying to escape any contact with the boy, "I'm sure he'll remember you,

"Have you healed up yet?" he asked, sitting back in his chair, "Scars will be noticeable in school,"

Pieter nodded with a smile. "I want to know what has happened since we last saw each other though,"

Tre smiled. "I guess I should... not really feeling that loyal in that area though. I always thought he kinda... hung on to us... but that's just an opinion. Don't take it personally..." He shrugged one shoulder and looked back at Pieter.

Tre laughed. "Of course I'm healed up." He said. "My scars never stick, or I wouldn't be such a pretty-boy." He winked at Pieter, grinning. Pieter knew that his looks were one of his many attributes for the Business. Without them, he wouldn't have gotten as much information as he had gotten.

Tre raised an eyebrow. "Is this just a curiosity on catching up or...?" He let the rest hang, knowing that it was probably an assignment. He twirled his wand between his fingers, a bad habit that had transferred to his knife and arrows. "Or does Papa Popov want to know...?"

Pieter nodded softly, trying not to take it personally.Alex was, in the best of times, a douche-bag.

"Of course, of course, Mr. Angel," he laughed, grabbing a roll out of a basket. He started to cover it in butter, grinning, "You got all the beauty genes, you loser."

Pieter took another thoughtful sip from his glass, finishing it off. He placed it on the table and drummed his nails against the cold glass.

"A bit of both," he shrugged softly, "He needs to know everything before he decides how to use you,"

Tre smiled a charming smiled and reached his arm out seemingly randomly, wrapping it around the waist of the waitress from earlier. "Darling?" He asked with a smile. "Can you get me and my friend some drinks?" He widened his eyes as he took her in. "My apologizes, madame." He said. "I must be mistaken. No one as beautiful as you must work here..." when the girl blushed and stuttered that she did, actually work there, he smiled a winning smile at her. "Well then, beautiful, will you...?" And she was nodding and blushing and gone. He could distantly hear her giggles behind the doors of the kitchen.

He sighed at Pieter, faking a look of tiredness. "This gift is such a curse, at times..."

With another sigh he nodded. "Of course..." he muttered, waiting until the girl placed down drinks before them and left before saying anything more. With a quick Mufflato to the rest of the restaurant, he sighed.

"Alright. Any specific questions before I start my rant?"

Pieter rolled his eyes with a snort, taking the drink with displeasure. Lucky loser.

"Papa wants to know how many 'dealings' you've had over there," he leaned forward, his voice a whisper even though the room couldn't hear them anyway, "Drugs, weapons, creatures- anything,"

Pieter pushed his glasses up his nose, nodding softly. He was the details person, unlike the rest of his siblings. Merlin, all of his brothers left the business because they couldn't do these things. Only Iva wanted to stay. That scared Pieter sometimes.

"Is there anything we have to clean up after?" he tapped the glass again, "Any run in with the law your face couldn't clear up?

Tre smiled. "Ah. The good stuff." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, suddenly all business. "I have a graph for you, detailed, fully cataloged and checked, at this location. In the last year alone, we have sold more creatures and weapons than any other organization in North America." He nodded at the paper. "And I don't mean to toot my own horn, but we're now officially the monarchy in the drug cortel over there. Americans and their drugs. You wouldn't believe..." He shook his head.

"As Papa Popov will be learning in exactly..." he checked his watch. "Two minutes, there is an off shore account with all the money that we didn't have to use to get out of little bumps in the road, Law enforcement and the like. We've got Dirty Cops in almost every major city, ready to hear the code word. We're just getting to New York though, it's a lot more involved, more people, more police, more everything."

He sighed. "I've been a lot more involved in this than I used to be. I've been doing this since I was seven, Pieter." He rubbed the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "I feel as if I'm doing more than my father right now..." He sighed. "But I hope to take over the branch, so no harm no foul." He looked up at Pieter.

"Anyway. The full report is being bounced around from email to email and should finally get to... this one..." He slid a smart phone across the table. "In an hour. You know, American Wizards know what's up with this technology. It makes everything we do a hell of a lot easier."

Pieter let him finish, watching him with judging eyes. He picked up the I-Phone, then grimaced slightly. Expensive and too trackable. He'd get rid of it sooner or later.

"Dirty cops?" he asked, "How did you recruit them? Money? If it was too easy, we'll have to get rid of them," He paused, "We'll probably get rid of them anyway,

"New York has tons of Russian immagrants. Find them and you'll get supporters that can be dispoved of." He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I've been in this just as long as you, Angel. I've learned some things too,"

Pieter wasn't even meant to be involved in all of this. He wasn't wanted in this cruel business, unlike his siblings.

Tre rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Come on Bunny. The russian immigrants are the dirty cops." He grinned. "I've got them all tracked, on this smartphone." He slid a Droid over the table next. "All their tracking information is on my home base computer, split into seven seperate disks, in seven different places all over both countries. No one knows where they are, except me, and soon, you." He nodded to them. "We got them signed on with their gold old Russian loyalty and nationalism, plus the odd druggie. Blackmailing some, bribing others, keeping it across the board." He nodded at a third phone. "This is their backgrounds, full check on each of them, and even marked which ones are secretly FBI agents in red for you and Papa."

He sighed and leaned back. "Now, our houses move every other day, randomly, and across state boarders. We have a few sellers that think they're independant, report to us, but have a grudge, that sort of thing. They're the purple ones." He nodded. "There's a color key in there with the information at this..." he slid another piece of paper over the table with an address on the other side of the city. "Address. You can never be too careful, you know."

He shrugged a shoulder. "I'm a grifter at heart, you know, so I'd like to see Papa soon, to talk. I'm sure we'll both be there when our fathers meet, but I just want to be sure... you know."

Pieter picked up the phone an set down the other, scrolling through all of the information. To his surprise, everything seemed to be in order. Well, of course; Tre was a professional.

"Good job," he replied, tucking both phones into his pockets. "My dad will see these soon. Keep on drifting; even we switch houses every month or so, and no police suspect us, "

Pieter's fingers stopped drumming the glass for a second. Didn't he know their dad's were meeting at this moment? Some sort of "interview" or something. He didn't know, but it wasn't good.

"I'm sure he wants to see you too,"

Tre smirked. "I meant the full meeting, Bunny. The one with the whole... family." He said. "You know, the one that's supposed to be their first meeting?" She shrugged one shoulder. "And I'm pretty sure that the only reason Papa wants to see me is to make sure I'm still..." he stopped talking, rolling his shoulders like he always did when he was agitated. He sighed.

Tre smiled, as if nothing bothered him. "What about you, Piet? What have you done while I was gone?"

Pieter nodded, a smile growing on his face. The whole family. It had been a long time since he had seen the whole gang.

"Shut up; My dad likes you a lot more than he likes me. Remember? He'd always tell me to be like you and stuff," He paused, "Hell, he wanted to give Iva to you. Iva." He spat out her name with an almost jealous tone, He doesn't like guys even looking at her," He shrugged, "What I'm saying is, don't worry,"

Pieter pushed up his glasses with a yawn, shrugging. "Nothing much; School. Came out of the closet. Scorned by my dad. You know, the usual,"

Tre wrinkled his nose. "I didn't even want to be with Iva. I mean, she's a nice girl and all, but I don't think she's my type." He paused. "No offense." He smiled. "And I'm sure that Papa cares about you." He shrugged. "He probably doesn't want to show it. You know how my father likes you more than me. He was always going on about how I should be more detail-oriented like you."

He smirked. "Just the usual, eh?" He asked. "Nothing surprising or awesome happened? No parties? No anything?" He shook his head. "Come on, bunny, you've got to be holding out on me!"

"I hate her too, don't worry," Pieter replied, a bit too fast. He played with his glasses again, his eyes bothering him. "And your father was just nice to me so my dad would like him. I'm not meant for this business,"

At the mention of parties, Pieter grinned his devillish grin. "Oh, there was parties. And surprises. Penlty of things you don't even want to here about," His face grew a rose overtone as he thought of some of his beautiful shames, "Plenty of things you don't wanna know about too,"

He leaned forward with a grin. "I threw a prty and wreck the Moscow house. Papa was pissed. Almost killed me,"

Tre raised an eyebrow. "I can't believe you got caught partying, dude. Everyone knows you throw parties at other people's houses!" He leaned back in his seat, taking a small sip of his water after sniffing it for poisons.

He raised his glass slightly. "Papa would not have killed you. You're way too useful." He smiled and placed his glass down, glancing around.

"I'm also looking for a bit of information. Do you know a girl by the name of Karma Black? Is she in the business? I need everything you have on her. Everything. The higher ups are... debating something." He cocked his head to the side. "You wouldn't happen to know what, would you?"

Pieter laughed, leaning away again. "And he caught me in bed with someone too. Bad, bad night."

CHoosing not to reply to him, Pieter waved the waitress over. He pointed to something on the menu wordlessly.

"Karma black..?" he said, shock in his voice, "Iva knows her and speaks of her often to Dad,"

Tre tsked. "Man am I glad I wasn't in the country when that happened." He gave a low whistle.

He shook his head slightly. "One of Iva's friends." He said softly. "Huh. Papa will probably bring the proposal through her, then." He debated it. "I think he's recruiting, but it's only a theory. Who knows what goes on in Papa's head?"

Pieter nodded, bringing a hand to his chin in contemplation. Iva's friend might be useful, but most people didn't just join the mob for fun. It was a long, difficult path to take for a grunge job.

"He'll get whatever he wants," he replied, "What ever goes through that man's head will happen,"

Tre sighed. "Is there anything else I need to know, Piete?" He asked.

The truth in Pieter's words hung in the air between them. "Well, when you become the Papa, you'll have the power too..." He paused. "Unless Iva becomes Mama." He frowned, the idea had a sort of appeal that worried him. He felt like that would happen... and he didn't like it.

Pieter gave a shrug. "What do you think I'm hiding?"

He shivered at the thought of Iva in charge. Merlin, she was so small; she'd get eaten out there! He didn't want to be in charge either; it wasn't for him. Truthfully, he didn't know who was going to lead... Dad never said.

"Iva would have you killed, you know,"