This one shot was requested by Lighted Candle though I hope everyone that reads it enjoys theirselves. It takes place after Chapter two of the Beginnings of Uncle Nigel where Nigel was captured by the Count instead of escaping.
Sincerely BuckRockgut


God his head hurt.

Ever so slowly, emerald eyes pried themselves open only to find himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling.

What happened?

Where was he?

Forcing himself to sit up the small white haired child trapped his head as an agonizing pain rushed through it.

Why was his head hurting so much?

Nigel tried to force himself to ignore the pain and remember what exactly had happened but right as he was certain he was catching on to the tail coats of his memories something distracted him.

Something he had not quite expected.

"Are you okay?"

A small yet firm voice caught his attention causing emerald eyes to shot open and dart around the rather dungeon themed room before settling on a small rouge hair child with bandages covering have his face, that was carrying a tray with food on it.

For a moment the two just stared at each other and Nigel could feel his face flushing darkly.

Shoulder length blood red hair with a lone golden eye, moonlight pale skin wearing an oversized shirt that was being used as a dress with a stuffed red squirrel under her arm.

Really she was rather kind of adorable.

Though it was a bit worrying seeing how many bandages were wrapped around the child: Half her face, her neck, her arm and legs.

"Well?"

A hint of annoyance had crept into the girl's Russian accented voice and it took Nigel a moment to recall she had asked him a question.

"I'm Splendid. Just a little headache and slightly confused is all."

The small girl nodded as she moved across the room to his bedside table.

"Well that's to be expected. Father did say Alexi hit you a little too hard when you tried escaping through the ventilation."

For a moment Nigel just stared in confusion at the small and fragile looking girl.

Father?

Alexi?

Ventilation?

"I'm sorry. What are you talking about?"

For a brief moment something flickered in that lone golden eye before the smaller child sighed.

"Da. Defiantly hit you too hard."

Ignoring Nigel's rather confused look, the small girl meet his gaze.

"Its not all that important, Father kidnaped you to use you as bait for his arch nemesis: Agent Dylan, or in other words: Your Father."

The emerald eyed boy could feel his mouth moving yet no words came out as he stared at the rouge hair girl before him.

Kidnapped?!

That sounded pretty important to him!

And what was this about Agent Dylan?

Dylan wasn't an Agent. He would have told him.

Right?

Although now that he thought about it, Dylan being an Agent would explain a lot.

His strange guest. The coming and going at all hours. How he would disappear for weeks at a time and why some nutcase wanted to kidnap him.

Feeling soft fingers on his jaw, Nigel heard his teeth clink together as the girl across from him closed his gapping mouth for him with a slight hint of amusement in her rather lovely eyes. Blushing darkly in embarrassment, The Emerald eyed boy avoid her gaze.

"Uh...Thank you."

Hopefully that humor shinning in her eye was at something else besides him or Nigel was certain he wouldn't make it out of here alive, wither Dylan came or not.


This was too easy.

Red couldn't quite hide his amused smirk as the white haired child across from him avoided glancing his way out of embarrassment. Though the emerald eyed boy may be Dylan's son he was far more trusting and open then the spy in the Russian's opinion.

It was a bit sad really.

The rouge had already told them their fathers were arch nemesis' yet the other hadn't even hesitated to eat the lunch the younger had brought him. The emerald eyed boy had even offered the rouge some, though Red was quick to turn it down- he would rather not have to deal with the side effects of the grounded up sleeping sedatives inside it.

Speaking of which...

The Russian carefully took plate- still holding three fourths of the other's sandwich- from the Brit's hands before he could drop it.

The white haired boy had lasted a bit longer then the Russian had first suspected he would but finally the other was being to doze off.

"You should lay down."

The Russian spoke as he stood, placing the plate on the bedside so to help the other do that.

It was kind of adorable how the other kept trying to fight the invertible but eventually Red managed to get the younger to lay down on the cot.

Satisfied that he had completed the task The Count had assigned him, Red turned to leave only to stop short as a hand gripped his hand rather loosely.

"Wait," The boy- he was defiantly stubborn like Dylan- slurred, "D...Didn't get... your name. "

Carefully, The Russian pried the other's hand from his wrist- highly amusing as well- and placed it back onto the sheet.

"Red. My name is Red."

He spoke even as the other's eyes drifted close and he headed for the door, holding the younger's plate in a firm grip.


He waited until he heard the door shut before emerald eyes flew open.

Wasting no time the young emerald eyed child pushed his way to his feet- stumbling every so slightly as the room spun around him.

Forcing himself to focus through his headache the young Brit tried to piece things together.

So Dylan was an Agent of some sort...Which led to someone kidnapping him- the girl's father if she was to be believed- to drawl his father out.

The accents indicated Russian- though he wasn't quite sure exactly which part of Russia they were from- but Nigel had a hunch they were still somewhere in Britain.

The food, while delicious, had probably been drugged with something or another- this was possibly going to be one of the few times Nigel was thankful Harry had been bitten by a basilisk and survived with a rather strong immunity to poisons.

Seeing as he was supposed to be drugged unconscious, there was a low chance of them checking on him for some time-or at least until it came closer to the time the drug was supposed wear off- which should give him plenty of time on figuring out how to escape.

Escape...

That would be a bit tricky seeing as Nigel currently had no idea of the buildings layout and it wasn't like he could ask.

Still the emerald eyed child planned to work his way around it as he had no intentions of figuring out what they planned to do with him once he was no longer of any use to them.

Opening his eyes- when had he closed them?- Nigel allowed his gaze to move around the room, searching for an escape that wasn't the door- it was probably under surveillance.

Frowning at not finding anything obvious- he really should have suspected that but you never knew- Nigel made his way to the wall, slowly running his fingers along them.

If there was one thing he knew from being Harry, it was that old places like this was riddled with secret passageways, especially in the dungeons.


Victor had Nigel.

That mad Russian had his son.

Dylan couldn't help but grit his teeth as he stared at the rather blunt letter the Russian had left him in his wrecked home.

What was he supposed to do?

MI6 wanted him to just wait- wait?! The Count had his son and they wanted him to wait!

He couldn't very well give into The Count's demands nor could he leave his Lad there. The poor Lad was probably confused and terrified- Child Genius or not Nigel was still a child.

"I'm going to get Court Marshaled for this."

But really what other real option was there?


Well it was official, he was completely and utterly lost.

With a soft sigh of annoyance, Nigel knocked the spider from his shoulder as he glanced at another four way split in the passageway. This was getting kind of annoying, for all he knew he was going in circles in this labyrinth of arachnids and dust.

Why couldn't he have gotten some magical gift to talk to spiders?

At least then he would have something to guide him out of this mess.


Mice.

Red could feel his annoyance grow as he glanced around the empty rom he had left Dylan's child in.

They could muscle their way into almost anything yet you ordered them to guard an unconscious child and they somehow lose him.

The Count would not be pleased about this.

"Go watch the monitor room, I'll see if I can locate him. "

The elder man nodded quickly before rushing out of the room, no doubt not wanting to be here if the Count decided to check on his prisoner any time soon.

Pushing aside his annoyance, the Russian narrowed his golden eyes.

If he recalled correctly there should be a servant's passageway around here.

Now were exactly was it located again?


There was someone else in the passageways.

At first Nigel had thought he had imaged it but after third time he had heard footsteps while he was standing still the Emerald eyed boy fount himself being forced to accept the truth.

Someone was hunting him.

Brilliant! This was just what he needed.

Pushing aside his annoyance, Nigel forced himself to move further in, only stopping once he stumbled upon a locked door at another dead end he had run himself into- he needed to work on his sense of directions once he got out of this mess.

For a brief moment the emerald eyed boy considered backtracking and trying to find another way out but that was likely to cause him to run into whoever was chasing him.

Which really left one option.

Closing his eyes, Nigel forced himself to focus on the dormant magic lying within him.

Surely he could force enough 'Accidental' magic to open one door?


Locked.

Red glared angrily at the door before him with a mild curiosity burning within.

He had followed the other's footprints- Da, there was that much dust built up in here- all the way here. Only to find a dead end with a locked door and no sign of the white haired boy, who by all rights should be cornered here.

Locking away his frustration and anger the Russian took a moment to step back and observe the sense.

The boy's footprints paced the room for a bit before stopping -for whatever reason- and finally led up towards the door. There was a half print, that indicated he had crossed the door somehow despite it being locked.

Logic included that somehow, at one point the other had managed to open the door, but seeing how tightly sealed it was went against that theory.

Though it he didn't open it how did he cross it?

Pondering this question, the rouge haired child began to backtrack his way out of the passageways.

Maybe there was something interesting about this 'Nigel' after all.


He was not panicking. He was calm and rational.

Everything was okay.

He was also lying to himself but who could possibly call him on that?

What ever Reason would he- one of MI6's Best Spies - have for panicking? Its not like his Arch Nemesis had his son or anything and even if he did, there was no reason for Victor to harm the Lad, its not like the other was angry about Dylan forgetting their anniversary- How many times was he going to have to apologize for that? With the way the other tried beheading him last time they crossed paths you would think they were married instead of Arch Nemeses.

Oh wait. He did and he was.

Yanking rather harshly on the steering wheel the spy barely skidded around the sharp corner of the deserted iced road leading to Mad- in more then one way- Man's base- Why couldn't the Russian ever have an easy access to his base?

For all he knew the Russian could be torturing Nigel this very moment, or worse; using him as one of his 'experiments'. The Spy's grip tightened painfully on his steering wheel as more and more images flickered through his mind- each more gruesome then the last.

His child or not, Victor would show Nigel no mercy- the Count didn't even know what mercy meant- especially since he was angry with his off and on lover.

The more he thought about it- and all the horrible things the Mad man could be doing to the Lad- the more Dylan could feel his outright panic building. Without a second thought the British man slammed the gas petal to the floor as he pulled off yet another sharp curve, barely avoiding going over the cliff's edge.

'Hold on Lad. I'm on my way.'


If he was upside down like this for long, Nigel was going to be sick.

With a soft groan of discomfort- Really who wouldn't be feeling ill after hanging upside down by their ankles for half and hour while the rope spun you around like a merry go round?- the Emerald eyed boy closed his eyes.

In his personal defense the white haired boy had to admit he wasn't actually thinking- too blinded by the rumbling thunder in his stomach- when he had tried to sneak a muffin from a basket left out.

Though now that he had a chance to actually think back on it the whole thing screamed 'trap' at him. I mean come on, why else would a Russian leave a basket of British Delicacies out in the open without anything to watch or guard it? He never should have touched the muffin- no matter how delicious it smell or how heavenly it tasted. He needed to get that recipe before he finally got out of here- but this is what happens when one thinks with their stomach and not their brains.

And judging by the utter disbelieving look his kidnapper's daughter had given him- once she stumbled upon him- she couldn't quite believe he had fallen for such an obvious trap either.


He had to be honest.

When Red had set out the basket of pastries and tea- he had made- it had been more out of a frustrated annoyance then anything. This Nigel was defiantly Dylan's son- as the white haired boy had avoided every trap she had set out with an expert ease.

He hadn't actually expected such a blunt and painfully obvious trap to work. So it was actually reasonable that disbelief filled him as he went to check on it- and maybe steal one of the muffins- that he had discovered the emerald eyed boy hanging from a rope with crumbs in his hair.

For a moment both children had stared upon one and another before the younger of the two decided to voice his disbelief.

"Serious? Out of every trap I set you fell for that one?"

As he watched the white hair boy's face slowly matched the bright pink color of a circus' cotton candy.

"I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously."

Somehow the boy's face blushed darker at the Russian's deadpanned tone.


"I'm not hitting a girl, it isn't proper!"

Silence overtook the room as the 'Girl' across form the white haired boy looked about ready to commit murder.

He was going to have a heart attack before this day was over, of that Agent Dylan of MI6 was certain.

Well that or die laughing.

He had really raised Nigel quite well, such a gentleman. Shame the Lad's gestures were quite misguided- though Dylan couldn't blame the boy, he had made the same mistake the first time he meet The Count's Protégé. Maybe if Victor stopped dressing the poor boy in clothes that highlighted his feminine and petite features...

Ducking more on instinct, the spy's thoughts were cut short as the knife meant for his head barely missed, cutting off a few strands of his greying hair. From the corner of his eye, the spy could see the rather angry looking Russian Lad tackle his boy off the side of the platform before the spy was forced to refocus on his own fight.