Hiraeth

During the case in Hong Kong, Zack only remembered falling to the ground and blacking out. Then, he woke up in VILE headquarters with a chain around his ankle.

It was unlike Carmen to keep hostages. Even if she did, Zack couldn't find it in himself to be afraid; for as long as he's been here, the henchmen have been respectful and didn't speak or look at him. He was never starved or brutally beaten either, but he was kept in a closet for 24 hours a day except to go to the bathroom.

"Carmen Sandiego will never hurt children, so it's only natural to use that to our advantage."

After changing into his clothes, he dried his hair and glanced at himself in the vanity. He didn't know why these words were suddenly echoing in his head; these were the words passed on from his higher ups, not that it mattered to him.

"Hey, kid, you done?" asked Moe who stood by the bathroom door. He was assigned to watch over Zack by following him wherever he went—including the bathroom—and making sure he didn't slip out of VILE's grasp.

"How long am I going to have to stay here?"

"Beats me." He shrugged. "If you're good then the boss'll let you go home, so you better behave because I don't like this arrangement any more than you do."

As Zack was led back to his closet downstairs, they were stopped by one of Carmen's blue-shirts.

"The boss wants all of us in the conference room." He told Moe. Then, he glared at Zack. "Bring the kid with you. We don't have time to lose."

Moe nodded and lengthened his strides, his fists balled at his sides. Zack trotted behind him, "H-Hey, what's going on?"

"No clue, but Carmen rarely calls us all in at once when it's this late, so I think it's something bad—" He suddenly paused. "Why am I telling you this? Just stay quiet and don't say anything if you want to go home."

The conference was packed to the four corners of the room when they both entered. Carmen sat in a chair in the center of the room with two attendants standing on either side, one carrying a basin of water while the other carried a hand towel.

Carmen's slender legs were crossed and she tapped the gold armrest with her fingers. In the corner of her eye, she saw Zack enter the room and then cleared her throat.

The room quickly fell silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the sudden rendezvous tonight." She declared, "Earlier today, went through the trouble of stealing Zhuge Liang's fan and left a replica on my desk that was stolen."

Murmurs waved through the masses, growing louder by the time it reached Zack. Zhuge Liang? Wasn't he that famous military strategist from the Three Kingdoms era in China?

The lady in red raised her palm and cleared her throat again:

"It seems that even in my private office, I recieve no privacy. Although I find it amusing that one would actually believe that I would leave something so valuable unattended. The wood on the replica is coated with a special ink that appears when it is in contact with lemon juice." Carmen rested the side of her cheek on her hand. "Those who want to prove their innocence, come forward."

One by one, the henchmen lined up to have lemon squirted in their palms then they soaked their hands in the basin, relieved that they weren't the perpetrator that had to endure Carmen's wrath tonight.

"NO! LET ME GO!" A tall, lean man struggled with the trio of VILE operatives restraining him.

"He's got a gun! Stand back!"

"He's the thief!"

"OI! LET GO!" The tall man punched the three henchmen, escaping their grasps before pulling out his pistol from inside his coat then lunging towards Carmen's chair.

"CARMEN, LOOK OUT!" Without thinking twice, Zack threw himself between her and the shooter. The bullet barely missed his neck but shot through his shoulder. "Agh!" He dropped to his knees, his hand squeezing his shoulder.

While the shooter was disoriented, Carmen grabbed his arm and twisted it, disarming him before she punched him twice on both sides of his face and finally kicked him in the stomach with the base of her stiletto.

She glared down at the traitor. "Take him away." Her tone was vicious. "IMMEDIATELY!"

The punched henchmen scrambled to their feet and hastily dragged the traitor from the conference room. As soon as the henchmen broke into murmurs and curses, Carmen dismissed them all, abating her ire upon laying her eyes on Zack.

The detective flinched upon feeling her touch. A reasonable reaction—she should have expected—yet the corners of her eyes tightened while her fingers curled.

"Let me see."

He searched for legitimacy in her visible eye before his hand dropped. "... It's nothing too bad."

Carmen pulled out a thin neck scarf—a piece of her earlier disguise—from her pocket and wrapped it around his shoulder.

"You should not have acted impulsively."

"But he was going to shoot you."

"And I could have handled it."

"I know you probably aren't used to someone trying to save you," Zack gazed sharply at her, his diction low, "And it makes me wonder if you have a heart like everyone else or if it's shriveled up."

Had Carmen come off as being too cold to him? Instead of answering him, she hung her head, her brim obscuring her eye.

"Come with me." She said, quieter this time. She helped him stand.

"Where to?"

"My room. I will tend to your wound by myself."

Zack expected luxury and, in a way, Carmen's bedroom was quite opulent but grimly plain; her books, maps, and papers were scattered about the room like an Escher painting.

"Excuse the clutter." She cleared her throat, "I was lost in research."

"It's okay." He pushed the clutter on top of her queen bed to the far side before sitting down on the edge. "I've seen worse."

No, he hasn't, and he definitely saw through Carmen's pitiful fib; her room probably has been cluttered for weeks.

"Do me a favor and take off your jacket." She said as she took off her coat, gloves, and fedora, tossing them both onto the bed.

Zack slipped off his green army jacket, careful not to agitate his wound any further. "Are you taking the bullet out too?"

"Of course."

He swallowed.

"It shouldn't hurt too badly but you will need to take some ibuprofen beforehand." She opened her mini fridge. "I only have Gatorade. Will that suffice?"

"That's fine."

"Which color would you like?"

"Any."

"Here." She dropped the pill inside 'Frosted Glacier'. "For the Advil, I only have PM so you may feel drowsy."

"I'm okay with that 'cause I'd honestly rather sleep it off anyway." He chugged down the pills with the Gatorade and wiped his lips with the collar of his tee.

Carmen draped his army jacket over the bedstead before sitting next to him with her plastic basket of bandages, disinfectants, and cotton pads among other tools. Her torso faced him and she rolled up his t-shirt sleeve.

Zack avoided looking at the sharp tools and his eyes wandered, ultimately landing upon Carmen as she dabbed around his wound with a cotton pad.

She looks different without her hat on. Carmen's face was slender with high cheekbones and sultry eyes; she was a very beautiful woman underneath the shadow of her fedora.

"Hey, Carmen?"

"What is it?"

"How long do I have to stay here?"

"For as long as time permits."

"You do realize that there's absolutely no point in what you're doing, right? Kidnapping me like this is only to make things worse for you."

For once, Carmen felt discomfort. "... What are you talking about?"

"I'm saying the only thing you'll be achieving at this point is ACME getting riled enough to go against you by force."

"ACME has angered me." She said bluntly. "Up until now, the agency has never sent children after me. They hoped to take advantage of my emotional capacity and assassinate me."

"Maybe that's what they thought but it's not what I'd do, and I'm not saying this just because I want to go home. I'm serious."

"... But if I lower my guard, ACME will see it as a weakness that I cannot allow them to exploit." She spoke softly, "Detective, you are honest and justified. You would never betray anyone out of selfishness... not even me, hence why I value your presence. You know, there will always be room at VILE for someone of your expertise."

"What? No!" Zack stood, gritting his teeth from the sharp stinging from the alcohol being brushed by the cool air. "Why can't you just face ACME yourself instead of just running away? Can't you just talk to CHIEF? He'll understand."

The master thief was calm. "It is not as simple as that."

"Because you're the one making it complicated!" He tightened his fists, "I don't understand why you're making stupid decisions that only end up hurting you in the end. What's the point of it? It really pisses me off..."

Unusually, his lashes dripped with tears then fell from his chin; he turned away and wiped his face with his shirt. A fluster washed onto his cheeks; he was a detective, yet here he was looking so indecent in front of his adversary.

"Zack...?" The felon froze. "Why are you crying?"

No answer, just hiccups inbetween whimpers from his quivering lips.

Carmen rose and approached the teenager, almost curiously stepping. She carefully squeezed his uninjured shoulder. "Detective, you are very thoughtful while I have done some despicable things, yet you still have the heart to weep for me like this... When I offered you to stay at VILE, I meant it, not for the sake of provoking ACME."

He shook his head. "I can't."

Of course he could not, not with Ivy, CHIEF, and the others waiting for him. Even moreso, the boy's morality was distilled and uncontaminated... who was she to dare to invade it?

Yet her voice held a tinge of sadness. "... I understand, just as I understand what you are saying is true." Carmen grasped his chin. "I will send you back to San Francisco and I will speak with ACME."

"Promise?"

Reluctance and then, "Yes."

Carmen sat back down and patted the space next to her. He left his shoulder to her to treat in silence, not that Zack had anything else to say.

Her treatment was quite painless for the most part. He tightened his jaw as she removed the bullet, but that was the most difficult part. Once he was properly bandaged, she pulled down his sleeve.

"It's finished."

"... Thanks." Zack sipped more of his Gatorade to quench his swelled tongue that was dry from crying.

"You may rest here; the bed is softer than the mattress." She gathered her supplies back inside her plastic basket and left them at the foot of her bed once she stood.

Zack didn't know where the closet was anyway, so he kicked off his shoes and slipped under the blanket. He pressed his face against Carmen's pillow; she didn't smell disgusting nor heavily showered with perfumes, it was petrichor and books, things he was familiarly fond of.

He peeked through one eye at Carmen, who was folding his jacket and leaving it on top of the mini fridge. She walked past his line of sight but she was still in the room—he couldn't see past the sheer canopies.

Carmen cleared her lounge chair from books before sitting down, crossing her legs and resting her head against her hand. Her clock only 11 pm, yet she was already so tired.

XXXX

Zack awoke to the knocks on Carmen's door. He kicked back the blankets and rolled off the bed.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He grumbled as he hopped over the clutter (that Carmen still hasn't cleared). Once Zack opened the door, he was met with a familiar, and perhaps friendly, face. "Moe?"

"Hey, kid, where's the boss?"

"Uh..." Zack stepped aside. "I think she's sleeping."

"Really?" The pudgy henchman walked inside and crept around Carmen on the chair. "Boss?" He waved his hand in front of her eyes. No reaction.

"Carmen?" Zack reached to touch her.

Moe slapped his hand, "Shh!" He pressed his finger to his lips. "It's rare for the boss to sleep so soundly like this."

"Really?"

"Especially after what happened yesterday." Moe added, "We thought that Carmen wouldn't have been able to sleep so we cleared her schedule for today to give her rest."

"Oh."

He followed Moe to the doorway of Carmen's room.

"How's your arm?"

"It's good. Carmen patched it up."

"Glad you aren't dead yet." He patted Zack's back. "Anyways, you coming down for breakfast or what?"

"Don't you guys usually bring me whatever?"

He shrugged. "Carmen seems to trust you enough to let you roam around in her room while she's asleep. I'll just use that against her if you screw around; at least I won't have to watch you anymore, so are you coming?"

The detective smiled anxiously, "I'll be down in a minute."

"Sounds good."

Once Moe left, Zack dashed to his army jacket and put it on. Then he took out a small pug pin he remembered he left when he came from from summer camp last year. He took Carmen's fedora and pinned the pug on the brim.

The master thief was still sound asleep when Zack went to check on her. To her silent form, he whispered, "Carmen, uhm... I probably won't be here tomorrow so I left you a little something. As a thanks."

He carefully left the fedora on her lap before leaving her in the bedroom by herself; it was pretty lonely in there. He sympathized but would never tell anyone because Carmen had said that she couldn't let her guard down despite loosening her strings yesterday.

Walking through the hallway with almost a spring in his step, past the henchmen he had once feared, with his hands dug inside his pockets, Zack reached one certain conclusion about the world's most notorious thief:

Carmen Sandiego was surely a complicated woman, and he didn't mind.

XXXX

Half-past noon, Carmen's eyes fluttered open. She glanced down at her lap and lifted her hat; once she felt the weight, she searched and found the pin.

"... Zack?" She glanced around her and back at the pin. He was gone.

A smile crept onto her ruby lips as she put on her fedora, dipping its brim strategically over one eye.

"Audacieux, detective."

This was based/inspired by the Hong Kong arc in the "Viewfinder" manga (especially Carmen and Zack's talk in the bedroom + the lemon juice scene). I was also inspired by Aptasi's "Potato Chips" fanfiction.