A/N: This is just a crazy idea that popped into my head over a year ago. I just now have written it out. Please enjoy!
Where No One Can Find Me
Summary: She was infamous in her world. One who lived for the thrill, for the chase. She knew and wanted nothing else. . . or at least, that's the lie she told herself. And she was a very good liar.
Her red high heels hit the marble floor with little sound, muffled due the amount of people, as she gracefully made her way across the room of the museum. Her brown eyes sparkled as the one-of-a-kind statue came into her view.
It stood four inches high, its base six inches in diameter. It was made of pure gold, decorated in emeralds, and other small color jewels. At first glance one would mistake it for a rabbit, but at a closer proximity one could see how the tail wrapped towards the front, it mouse like features clear. Her smile widen, thinking of the small fortune it would fetch on the black market.
She looked at her watch, adjusting the time to match perfectly with the clock that was on the wall. She then took a good look around, the security was going to be a little difficult to get through, but she had already anticipated that. She had set up a small team when she learned that the piece she wanted, which was called, La Vida Dorada was going to be in Paris. Usually she worked with a lot of underlings to do a lot of the work for her, but this was something she wanted to do herself. She needed equals on this job, not minions, so she knew she had to call in a few favors.
The woman in the high heels took her time as she made her way around the rest of the gallery. In the corner, she saw a blonde headed man, who slightly nodded at her as she passed him. She gave no indication that she saw him except for a quick glance in his direction.
After a good half hour of trying to blend in and making conversation with random patrons of the museum, she slowly started to make her way over to the La Vida Dorada for a closer look. It was only let out of its owners private collection every five years, for only a week, at a museum that remained unknown until the day before. If she missed this opportunity, she would have to wait another five years before she could try again.
She rose her hand up to her ear, pretending to adjust her earring underneath her long brown hair as she turned on her ear piece. "Red Fox to Eagle Eye, how are we looking?" she asked softly, contacting the blonde she had seen earlier, who was now on a different floor of the museum.
"We're looking good, Red Fox," he replied. "I just talked to Tango and Wolf and they said we'll have a solid get away route in a few days. And Wolf has got the blueprint for the building." He laughed. "Security is going to be a challenge, but nothing I can't handle."
"Good." She smiled, she could already feel her prize within her possession, but as quickly as her smile appeared it was gone. The sound of a cane hitting the floor stole her attention.
"Oh, let me help you with that," said one of the patrons.
"Thank you, I appreciated it," said the man as the cane was handed back to him.
The woman tried to get a closer look at the man, who had his back to her, but there was no mistaking who he was. "Shit!" The woman in the high heels turned from her prize in search of the nearest exit.
The one she referred to as Eagle Eye was upstairs looking down at the crowd when he saw her rushing out. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "We're not done casing the place yet."
"We'll finish casing it later," she told him.
"Are you crazy!" asked Eagle Eye on the other side of the ear piece. "If we blow this heist-"
"The heist is still on," she clarified. "I just can't be in there now," her voiced sounded frantic as she spoke. "He's not suppose to be in until tomorrow. Why is he here so early? It could have ruined everything."
"Yo, slow down, love," concerned lined Eagle Eye's words. "What happened in there?"
"First off, don't call me 'love' and second-" she sighed as she finally found the exit and hurried through the doors. "It was just bad timing. I would have been recognized."
"By who?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Are those agents here? I thought you shook them back in South America?"
"No, not them. My husband," was her automatic response.
"You're married?" His tone did nothing to hide his disbelief.
"No, actually." She turned around to peer through the glass doors, making sure she hadn't been seen, but luckily his back was still to her, he was none the wiser.
"It's a long story," she cut him off. "So just grab the others and I will meet you at the rendezvous spot. We'll discuss what we know so far."
"Yeah, sure. Eagle Eye out." And with that the conversation was terminated.
She sighed as she made her way down the stairs, pulling out her ear piece. That had been too close, if he had seen her, it would have ruined everything and no pay off was worth that. She paused in her steps at that thought. Did she really just postpone a ten million dollar heist. . . for a man?
After ten years, he had this down to a science. . . Use a false name, always pay in cash, always request the first floor with the room closest to the exit. "I hope you enjoy your stay here at Le Mathurin hotel, Mr. Donde."
"I'm sure I will," he smiled at her as she handed him two key cards. "Oh, my wife is coming in early tomorrow morning," he began as he handed her back one of the key cards. "I lost my cell, so she won't know what room, so if you'll be so kind and make sure she gets this for me."
"No problem, Mr. Donde," she replied. Mr. Donde then turned from the receptionist and nodded at the bellhop before making his way down the hall towards his room. He tipped the bellhop generously.
With the door closed behind him, he smiled happily to himself. He tossed his cane across the room near the bed and limped towards the bathroom, unbottoming his shirt as he did so.
In the shower, he closed his eyes and lowered his head, his hands braced on the wall in front of him as he let the water wash away the day's dirt. It had been a long and grueling flight here to Paris from a small airport in Iceland. He had had two layovers, each more than three hours long and on one leg of his journey, a baby, who didn't know the meaning of the word silence.
But even with all of that, when he heard that La Vida Dorada was going to be displayed at the Louvre Museum, he had to go and take a look. There were more people there than he had expected, but after laying his eyes on the rare piece he could see what all the fuss was about.
He smiled, thinking that Mrs. Donde would love to come and see the exhibit. And if his memory served him correctly, she loved ancient artifacts. It would be a wonderful surprise if she didn't know it was being displayed.
With his shower done, he dried his somewhat curly brown hair and wrapped a towel around himself. He made his way back to the room and fell onto the bed from sheer exhaustion. He sighed in pure bliss as the bed seem to engulf him and beckon him to sleep. The only thing that would have made the moment perfect would have been a certain woman by his side. He rolled over in the large king size bed, grabbing a pillow to rest his head. It was his own fault, he guessed, arriving a day early and all, so he figured this pillow would have to do for now.
Her high heels clicked on the marble floor, not much unlike the way they had done the night before at the gallery opening across town. She walked up to the front desk and greeted the woman who sat behind it. "Good morning." She smiled. "My name is Mrs. Donde and I believe my husband may have checked in sometime yesterday."
"Oh, yes, he checked in as I was coming onto my shift. He said you would be here bright and early." The receptionist typed a few keys on the keyboard, before pulling open the draw next to her and reaching for the correct card key inside. She then handed it to Mrs. Donde before wishing her a pleasant stay.
Mrs. Donde only glanced at the key to figure out if she should go left or right when she reached the doorway that lead to the hotel rooms. She headed down the right wing, not even bothering to look at the room numbers as she knew they were of no importance. Her room would be the one on the end, the one closest to the exit.
It was the perfect location for a quick get away. Something that was always needed in her line of work, for she was constantly being followed by the agency that once employed her. Now she was on the run from them. Two of their youngest agents always seemed to be a few steps behind her. And that's exactly where she wanted to keep them.
She usually didn't do anything that could lead them to her while she was on vacation, time with her husband was important, but when she heard that the La Vida Dorada was being displayed only minutes from where she was staying, she thought it would be worth the risk. But when she had spotted him there last night, she suddenly realized it was a greater risk then she once thought. What if he learned who she truly was? The thought frighten her a bit. He was a good man and she was far from anyone describing her as good.
She soon stood in front the door that led into her room and swiped the card key. Inside, she couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face as she put down her carry-on bag. The naked man sprawled out on the bed looked so peaceful as he slept on top of the blanket.
Mrs. Donde picked his cane up off the floor and placed it on top of the table so it was easier for him to reach when he got up. She noticed the trail of clothes that led to the bathroom, littering the floor. She shook her head as she picked them up. He was such a slob when it came to certain things, she thought as she dumped this clothes next to his suitcase. No wonder he kept on losing things.
With the place a little tidier than it was when she walked in, Mrs. Donde climbed into bed and laid beside Mr. Donde. She reached out and touched his face, his skin soft, almost like a little boy. But then again, in her mind he was still a boy, he being nearly nine years her junior.
He was only at the tender age of eighteen when they meet, but unlike any man before him, who had entered her life, he was able to draw her attention like no one ever could. He was tall and lean, lanky even, so much so that your first instinct when you met him, was to feed him. And he had this smile, which was pure, bright and innocent. It was genuine, which she didn't see a lot in her line of work. And of course, there were the glasses. The ones that were way too big for his long face. She could swear that he spent most of the day, pushing them up the bridge of his nose back into their proper place.
She also remembered that awful poofy hat he used to wear all the time, no matter what the weather. He had made it himself, back when he was in junior high school. It was ridiculous looking, but he was so damn proud of it. He was devastated when he misplaced it about three years ago. He had lost many things in the course of his life, from his glasses right down to his shoes, but he had never lost that hat.
Truth be told, he hadn't lost it. She had took it. She felt bad at first for doing it. It was probably the only time she felt bad for taking something that wasn't hers, but she wanted something of his, something that was important to him. Often, when she was feeling lonely or when a heist had gone wrong and she was feeling low, she would pull it out and hold it close, wishing that he was there to comfort her. She knew it sounded pathetic, but she liked knowing that there was more to her life, then the next crime she had to commit.
"Good morning, Mrs. Donde," he breathed, his eyes still closed.
Her face lit up at the sound of his voice. She then moved her face closer to his and placed a small gentle kiss on his pink lips. "Good morning to you too, Mr. Donde."
Then as she kissed him again his eyes slowly opened and looked upon her for the first time in nearly a year. "You're still so beautiful," he whispered before putting his arms around her and drawing her closer to him. "God, I've missed you."
Mr. Donde took a deep breath as she laid her head on his chest smelling the fresh scent of her hair. . . vanilla. She hadn't worn vanilla in years, not since his accident. He frowned at the thought of that, it wasn't a memory he wanted to recall right now. Because right now, all he wanted to do was focus on the woman in his arms.
He remembered the first night he had met her. He had just finished high school and had convinced his parents to let him go backpacking around the world. It had been difficult to make them see why he wanted to go, especially when they were afraid that he would lose his passport and be stuck in some foreign country thousands of miles from home. It had took him a few months, but he had finally worn them down. Besides, it not like he and his parents hadn't traveled the world as he was growing up, he just wanted a chance to do it by himself.
He had been in Portugal, in some underground night club, just laughing it up and enjoying the company of his friends, when she came into view. She had been out on the dance floor, dancing by herself. He watched as several men approached her and asked to dance with her, but she had turned them all down.
She wore this clingy red dress that complimented every curve of her body and he was pretty sure that that dress was the only thing she was wearing. She wasn't even wearing shoes as she closed her eyes and let the music move her. He tried to ignore her presence as he went back to talking with two of his friends, but doing so was like trying to ignore the sun on a cloudless day.
And so, his eyes turned back to her. He jerked back a little as he realized she was looking at him. He thought it was a mistake, maybe she was just looking in his direction. He looked to his friend beside him, and thought maybe she was looking at him. He was one of those pretty boys after all with an athletic build. He was the kind of guy girls went for. Because he, himself, had never had much luck with the ladies growing up, being labeled as a geek early on.
So when he saw her coming over, he excused himself, saying that his soda was flat and that he needed another one. Following his lead, his other friend excuse himself as well, before winking at his other companion and wishing him luck before heading in the opposite direction.
He took his time getting back, opting to drink at the bar by himself. He pulled off his glasses and set them on the bar top before lowering his head, closing his eyes, and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Hello there," came a sultry voice from behind him. He slowly turned around and found the woman in red standing there. "Dance with me," she asked of him.
He gave off a soft chuckle. "This is a joke, right?" was his reply. "Did my friend put you up to this?" He looked around her, hoping to see his friend on the other side, but had no such luck. This had to be a joke, he couldn't help but think, beautiful women just don't walk up to guys who looked like him.
The woman in red bent over to the side and made eye contact. "Hi," she greeted him again. "If there's a joke, I honestly don't know anything about it," she told him. "So how about that dance?" She smiled at him.
He eyed her suspiciously for a moment. "No, thanks," he gave his answer. Her smile immediately dropped. He then paid for his drink and headed back over to his table, where his friends were ready to call it a night.
He never noticed the way she put her hand on her hip as she gave a devious smirk to his back. "How. . . refreshing," she thought out loud.
A few days later, he and his friends had made their way to Spain. They were checking out the local sights when he heard a familiar voice behind him once again. "You know, you're a hard man to track down."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you stalking me?" was the first question out his mouth. "I've never been stalked before."
He watched as she reached into her purse. She pulled out a pair of glasses. "You left them at the bar."
He reached out for them. "Thanks."
She pulled them out of his reach before he could take a hold of them. "If you really want to thank me," she tilted her head to one side, "I believe you still owe me a dance."
And that's how it had begun. He had ended up ditching his friends and spending time with her for the entire week. "What's your name?" he remembered asking her as they rolled over in the bed of the hotel room they had rented.
"No, no names." She shook her head. He looked disappointed and she found herself not liking the expression. She sighed as she debated what to say. She couldn't put her finger on why, but she kinda liked this guy. And the sex wasn't too bad either. She could tell that he was inexperience, but he had proved to be a fast learner. "We're having a good time and that's how I want to remember this trip. Besides, I am a very busy woman and I don't get a lot of time for myself," she tried to explain. "I only get a chance to go on vocation once a year for a week two at most. It's the only chance I get to get away from it all."
"I can understand that feeling. Wanting to get away from it all," he told her. "But sometimes just having a little company isn't all that bad." There was something about his eyes as he said those words. "So, where are you going next year?" he laughed. "Because if you haven't decided yet, I think I may know a little place." He shrugged. "I mean, if you don't mind the company." And she realized, she didn't mind.
The next year, she was surprised to see that he had kept his word. They had ended up in Switzerland in a little cottage. "This place is beautiful," she said the first morning they were there as she looked out the window, a cup of hot tea in her hands as she looked out at the wide green pastures.
"So I did good, right?" she nodded at his question as he sat up in bed. "I think I deserve some kind of reward, don't you think?"
"What kind of reward?"
He shrugged as if he didn't have something already in mind. "How about a name?" he asked again.
"You just don't give up, do you?" she smiled as she put her mug down and climbed back into bed. She pushed him back down before sitting on top of him. She leaned over to litter his face with warm kisses. "If you really want a name to call me, you can call me," she gave it a bit of thought, "Mrs. Smith."
He jerked back immediately. "Wait, Mrs? As in, you're married?" He looked like he was about to freak as he went to push her off him.
She rolled her eyes before pushing him back down. "You really need to get a grip," she told him as she held him down. "Of course, I'm not married," she clarified for him.
It took him a moment, but he finally caught on. "Oh!" he laughed. "So I'm Mr. Smith?"
"Wow," she said in disbelief. "Be glad you're cute." His reply was hitting her upside the head with a pillow.
Every year after that, they met up in a different location, using a different name, which were always decided the year before.
"I've missed you too," she replied. "So how was your trip?"
He signed. "Too long," he complained. "I had such a headache when I finally made it here. But I saw something you might enjoy. An art gallery across town with a few pieces that I think will have you giggling like a school girl."
She blushed. "That was one time."
He cocked an eyebrow and smiled at her. "You were practically drooling."
"Well, I didn't realize it was live art and that the models would be so," she blushed harder, "so naked."
"Never knew you to be so shy, Mrs. Donde," he teased.
"There are a lot of things about me you don't know," she replied.
"Yeah," he drew out slowly. "Your name being one."
She gradually set up, an annoyed expression on her face. "Here we go again."
"Yes, here we go again," he mirrored her. "Ten years. Ten fucking years and I still don't know your name."
She got up out of bed and began to take off her shirt. "Why is it such a big deal? I mean, you bring this up every year, but our names don't matter."
"Yes, they do!" he argued as she took off her pants and threw them to the floor. "I spend an entire year, looking forward to seeing you and I am in absolute heaven when I do. But then our time comes and is gone before I know it, and I wonder if you'll show the next year, and what I'd do, if you didn't. I wouldn't even be able to look for you, because I don't even know your name."
"You don't have to worry about me not showing up," she assured him. "Because if I ever wanted to put a stop to this arrangement, I would have the balls to tell you to your face."
He stared at her for a moment. "Are you going to show next year?" he asked calmly.
"Yes," she replied. "I enjoy spending time with you. You know that."
"Yeah, for a week out of the year. There's so much I don't know about you."
"What do you want to know?" She sat back down.
"I don't know," he shook his head. "I guess, am I like the other man in your life? Do you have some husband waiting for you somewhere? Are you afraid I'd show up and tell him you've been cheating on him for the last ten years? You got kids? Do we have kids?" He wanted to know. "Because it's not like we're careful and I'm not even sure if you would tell me, if I didn't directly ask."
"I told you, the year after we met, that I wasn't married. And believe it or not, you are the only man in my life. I don't have time for anyone else and I don't want to make time for anyone else."
He snorted. "You make it sound like I'm important to you."
"You are!" She then sighed. "Do you remember when you had your accident?" she asked.
His face went slightly white. "I don't want to talk about my accident."
"We don't have to talk about it. All I wanted to say was, I found you. I found you and I didn't need a name. All I had to do was find the boy with the goofy poofy white hat." She reached out and touched his face. "Look, I don't want to fight anymore," she revealed. "So I'm going to take a shower and get dress. We'll go out for breakfast, and we'll forget about this whole ugly name business, okay?"
He took a hold of her hand and gave it a gentle kiss. "I'm sorry, but it's not okay." He gave her back her hand. "This is my last year doing this," he announced. "I want a woman, who wants me around all the time, and not just on her schedule. And I'm tired of waiting for you to be that woman."
"You don't mean that," she whispered. "I was thinking next year we would meet in Italy. There's this little town that looks a lot like the place we stayed in in Switzerland."
"Just go and get dressed." He ignored her. "We'll play out the rest of the week, but after," he swallowed hard, "I'm done. We're over."
She was in shock, not believing that she was being dumped. "No," she stood up, she had to have the upper hand in this. "If you want us over, why delay?" She went and picked up his shirt. "Get out!"
"I paid for the room, love," he reminded her. "I ain't going anywhere."
"Fine." Mrs. Donde picked up his shirt and threw it at him. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" She quickly put back on her clothes, picked up her carry-on bag and slammed the door behind her, but not before yelling out. "Bastard!"
Mr. Donde sat there a moment in the silence. "Did I just do that? I did not just do that." He rolled over and leaned his head on the headboard before pulling it back and hitting his head against it several times. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"
Mrs. Donde had ended up at the hotel across the street. She settled in her new room, and rolled herself into a ball in the recliner chair. In her hands, held close to her chest, was the poofy white hat she had stolen from him several years ago.
She told herself she wasn't going to cry. She knew eventually that this had to end. And ten years had been a good run, longer than she had expected it to last. But still, it wasn't that she didn't want more, it's just that she couldn't have it. She had an addiction. She couldn't help what she did, but it's not like she hated it. All that she knew was, in the long run, given a choice, she would always choose the thrill of the heist. So where would that leave him?
No, it was good that it ended. She stood and put away the poofy hat before pulling out her cell phone. "Eagle Eye? Hey, it's Red Fox. We should finish casing the place. Yeah, I can meet you in an hour. I'll call Tango, if you call Wolf."
The heist had gone off without a hitch, just like she knew it would. Tango sat in front of a computer with Wolf, Eagle Eye, and Red Fox looking over his shoulder as he made sure the money was divided evenly and transferred to the correct banking accounts. "And there we are," he said triumphantly as he leaned back in his chair and locked his fingers behind his head. "We're all just a tad bit richer."
"Fantastic!" Wolf clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "And a day a head of schedule. I can surprise my daughter with showing up for her birthday early." He then held out his hand for Red Fox to shake. "We're even," he said softly, before saying his goodbyes.
"Yes, sweetie," Eagle Eye was in the corner on his cell phone. "I'll take out the trash as soon as I get home. I'll be on a plane tomorrow," he informed her. He then smiled. "I love you, too. Kiss the kids for me." He then looked annoyed. "Fine, the dog too." He then hung up. "I hate that dog," he announced before saying his goodbyes as well.
"How do they do it?" Red Fox asked herself, not realizing she had been heard by Tango.
"Do what?" he seemed confused.
"Have a life outside of what we do?" She turned to him, her eyes pleading for an answer.
Tango had switched off the computer and was now packing it up. "Well, it's not that hard. You just have to find someone you trust," he made it sound easy. "I've been with the same guy since college. He knows what I do for a living and he accepts me for it."
He then stopped what he was doing and leaned on the desk to look at his remaining companion. "Are you trying to say you don't have anyone like that?" he asked.
She walked over to him and leaned on the other side of the desk. "There was someone, who was way too young for me," she added, "but I was never too sure if I could trust him."
She shrugged. "I don't know. When we first met, he was just so out of place compared to everyone else. He reminded me of me, I suppose. And there's way he looked at me. . ." she trailed off. "I just thought, if he knew who I truly was he would look at me different and I didn't want that."
"Sometimes people have a way of surprising you, Red Fox. I mean, when I told my boyfriend, what I did, I was scared out of my mind. He's a third generation police officer by the way, very straight lace." He didn't miss the smile on Red Fox's face. "Anyway, I felt it was something I had to do, because if I hadn't, there would have always been a wall between us and good or bad, it had to fall."
"Well, I'm glad that things worked out for you, but I think I may have blown my chance," she revealed her fear. "We had a huge fight and I haven't seen him all week. And the funny thing is, he's right across the street."
"Do you love the guy?" Tango asked.
"That's a loaded question," she told him.
"No, it's not." He looked at her softly. He then went back to packing up his stuff. "Good luck, Red Fox," he told her before heading out the door.
The next morning, Red Fox, made her away across the street. She still had her card key and so swiped it, but the door wouldn't open. She tried it several times before giving up and heading to the lobby to speak to the receptionist. "Hi," she greeted the man behind the counter. "I just wanted to know if a Mr. Donde checked out?"
She waited anxiously has he stroked a few keys on the computer in front of him. "Yes, ma'am. According to your records, he checked out last night."
Red Fox inhaled a shaky breath. "Thank you," she barely got out before leaving the card key on the corner and walking out the hotel. She looked at her watch, her plane left in four hours. She had to be back in China and see how well things ran when leaving one of her underlings in charge of one of her heist.
There were crimes to be planned, junior agents to lose, and money to be made, she thought. "There's no time to dwell on a bruised heart," she said quietly to herself before she reached into her trench coat pocket and pulled out the white poofy hat. She held it close to her chest one last time before tossing it in the nearest trash bin and walking away.
It was a year later and Red Fox found herself in Italy, not really knowing why. For an entire year, she had done so well. She had quickly fallen back into her routine and had only thought about him in a few weak moments. And luckily for her, those were rare.
She had found herself in a small bakery just outside of Rome. She was picking out what she wanted to order, before heading to a little resort she had made reservations for, when she heard someone enter the doors behind her. She didn't think anything of it at first, until she heard an all too familiar voice. "Now where did I put that map?"
"Don't tell me you lost it again," said a female voice with a giggle. Red Fox slightly turned around to see the couple seating at a table near the window as they looked through his backpack. They were wearing matching outfits. "I'd swear, you would lose your head if it weren't attached."
He scoffed before smiling brightly. "You're one to talk." He looked up from his bag and froze when he saw the woman across the room.
He stood up slowly not taking his eyes off her as he did. "Babe?" the woman in front of him said concernedly. "Something wrong?" Realizing she was being ignored, she turned her head to see what he was looking at and was surprised to find a tall beautiful woman walking in their direction.
"You look well," Red Fox began. "I didn't think you would come."
"It wasn't my idea," he revealed. He then looked at the woman he had been sitting with. "This is my- my uh girlfriend, Wanda," he said reluctantly. "We're here visiting her family."
"Don't you mean, fiancée, silly?" she showed the older woman her engagement ring.
"Wow," the other woman was taken back. "Congratulations."
"Thank you!" The fiancée smiled fiercely, the tension of the other two people completely going over her head. "So how do you two know each other?"
"Me and your boy here go way back," she told her as she forced herself to return her smile.
"Oh, that's nice," she replied, sounding as if she really didn't care. "Well, I'm going to go and order us something to eat and give you two a chance to catch up." She walked away and immediately started up a conversation with one of the bakers.
"She seems like a very nice person." Once again she smiled, but the other could tell she was hurt.
"Yeah, she is." He pursed his lips together and dropped his head.
"So, are you happy?" she wanted to know.
He looked her straight in the eyes. "Yeah," he answered. He then shrugged. "Well, happy enough."
She shook her head and took that as her cue. "I probably won't make the wedding," she tried to laugh, but it died in her throat. She then reached into her pocket. "I made this," she pulled out a red and white poofy hat. "To replace the one you lost. I'm sorry it's not all white, I ran out of yarn."
"Thank you." He touched her hand as he reached for it, and realized that this may be the last time he ever saw or touched her.
She nodded before heading to the door. She paused in front of it, took a deep breath, and turned her head back to him. "San Diego," she told him and he looked at her curiously. "My name is Carmen San Diego." And with that she was gone.
She walked down the street, tears building in her eyes as she turned the corner. "Carmen!" he yelled out, following her as quickly as his bum leg would allow him. "Carmen!" he sounded desperate as he cried out.
She stopped and soon saw him appear around the corner. He was breathing hard, the red and white poofy hat securely on his head. "Where on Earth are you going?" he asked. "Don't you want to know my name?"
Tears slid down Carmen's cheeks as she nodded her head, quickly making her way back to him. He then purposely dropped his wooden cane, walking a few steps towards her before taking her face in both his hands and crushing his lips against hers.
Back in the bakery, Wanda turned around to find not only had the older woman disappeared, but so had her fiancé. "Huh?" she wondered out loud. "Where's Waldo?"