Cesare had been frantically setting up things in the office while Nikki was out for coffee with Lucy. The last 24 hours had been a scramble for him. Luckily, Nikki had been busy at the theater and this business with Lucy enough for him to excuse himself and run around town making the necessary arrangements. It hadn't been cheap or easy, but it was worth every bit of effort he'd put into it. He wasn't sure what kind of mood he'd find Nikki in when she returned, but he was confident he could turn any spirit she found herself in.

He ran his fingers over the envelope in his pocket, not quite sure how he'd ever gotten into this position.

Sitting behind his desk, he lounged back on his chair and threw his feet up on it. He lit a cigarette and waited for Nikki to arrive.

Nikki came back from the performance, throwing her wrap over a chair and leaving a short trail of heels behind her as she made her way across the small room and to the mini bar. As she poured herself a whisky, she heard the thump of feet hitting the desk next door in Cesare's office and poured a second whisky before exiting her little apartment and making her way through his office doorway by pushing it ajar with an elbow. Seeing him seated behind the desk, she smiled tiredly and handed him a drink before settling herself into one of the visitor's chairs across from him.

"You'll be the only one to have sat in that seat under me and lived to tell about it," she remarked before rapping her knuckles against his desktop for luck.

"Luck's been nipping at our heels since before we left Vegas it seems." Cesare remarked as he took his drink.

She looked stunning as per usual, if a bit tired after a full day of conducting business. He enjoyed being one of the elite few that got to see her in this natural state of being. He slid his feet off his desk and rocked forward in his chair to hear about her evening. He wasn't nearly as interested in the show as what the rest of her day had contained.

"Good show tonight?" he asked regardless of his true curiosity, "I heard it was going to be a ballet, I'm sad I missed it. My sister was an amazing dancer herself." He swallowed the contents of the glass.

"The crowd seemed to enjoy it," she said vaguely, staring at the ice in her drink as she slowly swirled the contents of her glass. She was beginning to wonder if the theater wasn't somehow cursed; both the performances upstairs and the confrontations in the speakeasy below left her out of sorts and uncomfortable. She made a mental note to try to get something upbeat scheduled upstairs, maybe a comedy movie or a hired magician. A singer or musician could pull double duty and play in both areas, even.

"So. How's things?" She asked lamely, suddenly unsure of what to talk about.

Cesare smiled inexplicably and reached into his jacket pocket producing a plain envelope with a surprising amount of weight to it indicating something more than just a simple piece of paper.

"Things are wonderful, love," he said in an uncharacteristically happy tone tapping the envelope on the desk, "and I suspect they will only be getting better from here."

He casually tossed the envelope onto the desk in front of her and it landed with a distinct smacking sound against the wood.

As she reached for it, he blew a cloud of smoke into the air proudly. Her fingers slid apart the envelope and retrieved the two small rectangular cards.

"Those," the explained, unable to control his excitement, "are two tickets aboard the Arosa Star Ocean Liner bound for Dublin from New York..."

Nikki's jaw dropped; she read and re-read the documents over and over, flipping them over to see if they were forgeries, some cruel joke. Tears welled in her eyes, she'd only been kidding around when she'd mentioned running away to rob leprechauns but he'd run with the idea and booked the tickets.

She tried to speak, but words eluded her. Instead, she carefully folded the papers back into the envelope and stood, making her way around his desk and leaning down to kiss him.

"Thank you," she whispered, grateful to have something so grandiose and exciting to look forward to. The food, the drinks, the sights, the criminal activity...she couldn't wait to leave.

"That's not all..." he said as she hovered over him. He stood up in front of her and reached into his pocket. When his hand emerged, trailing behind it was a slender silver bracelet adorned in the blue sparkle of almond-eye-cut sapphires. He held it up in front of his face between them so she could see it. The silver and blue flashed between them.

He took her arm with his other hand and lifted it up and laid the chain across it, fastening it carefully. He'd tracked down the most reputable gem dealer in the state to prepare this piece for her. There was a wealthy man's year salary on her wrist, and compared to her it still fell short.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders then, catching sight of her bejeweled wrist over his shoulder as the light caught the stones and made them spill prisms across the wall. 

"Not as gorgeous as your eyes, but stunning nonetheless. You're spoiling me, Cesare," she said, running her fingers through the back of his hair. She still wasn't quite sure what he saw in her, but looking a gift horse in the mouth would get her nowhere. 

"When do we leave? 'Cuz I'm in no hurry to go apartment hunting, truth be told," she said, not at all looking forward to that particular inevitability.

"Day after next." he said holding onto her waist, "We're driving to New York, catching a five day cruise-liner to Dublin and then we can stay until you get good and tired of it."

He smiled at her. She'd done more for him than anyone else in his life, and she deserved this.

"When we get back, we should be able to slide back into Chicago under whoever the bosses want. Maybe rob another casino?" His eyes flashed at the suggestion as he brought her towards him and kissed her again.

He had a way of igniting her fire; whether that was from the talk of another job, or his hands on her, she had no idea, but she reveled in it and sunk into the kiss. The room got hotter and she pulled away, looking at him with a feigned innocence. 

"We can take this meeting somewhere a bit more private, Mr. Torretta, due to the sensitive nature, or we can go help the rest of the crew terrorize Sal's restaurant. Just depends on what you're hungry for," she said, smiling up at him angelically.

***

Two days later, they were off. Boarding the Arosa Star was made easy, given their connections and status. Once aboard, though, the two quickly shed the skin of their respective personas and went on a small spree of hijinx to defeat the boredom that had set in. Theater shows, balls, even cigar bars were all things they could get at home. Instead, the two lounged on the upper deck, pretending to be married English royalty, complete with passable accents, or plantation owners from the Deep South, spinning crazy tales of a drunken president passed out on their bidet, or how they'd beaten the Queen of England in strip poker.

Most of their time, though, was spent alone, often on their cabin balcony enjoying room service and the ocean view while discussing what lay in store in Ireland. Nikki never tired of his company, often reaching for Cesare's hand while he spoke, or twirling the sapphire bracelet he'd placed on her wrist that she never, ever removed.

4 days into the journey across the North Atlantic, Cesare could feel cabin fever setting in. In the evening he decided to walk the deck of the ship. The sea breeze carried salt air into his lungs as the ship parted the low waves below. The isolation was comforting. The thought that he was so far from anyone except Nikki; like two astral bodies drawn only to each other. She'd made the trip so fun with her constant impersonations of the posh upper-crust society dwelling on the vessel and her masterful one-upping in outlandish storytelling. She made sure that there was never a dull moment.

He passed a pair of coupled on the deck. As they saw him walking past, one of the men waved. He couldn't remember if he was supposed to be the Duke of Rockshire or the rich Maximilian Hansheadle to these people after having taken so many humorous personalities with so many of the ship's guests. He simply allowed himself to lift his hand in response and give a friendly nod as he passed, doing his best to seem important and in a rush. As he circled around the deck, he made his way back to the cabin. They were traveling first class all the way and their cabin encompassed a couple separate rooms. He found Nikki sitting on a cushioned bench near the window offering a view of the ocean beneath. She hadn't seemed to notice him enter and so he stood extremely still in the doorway, taking in her figure against the dark blue sea and orange sky behind.

Leaning against the door frame behind her, he finally spoke, "Care to go down for a drink, love?" he smiled at her as she turned towards him, "I'd hate to waste an opportunity to show you off."

Nikki grinned; she was growing fond of the pet name.

"​​​​Who's asking? The duke, or the millionaire? Or am I getting Cesare tonight?" She asked, standing to smooth her dress back in place before grabbing her clutch and taking his arm. 

They made a full circuit of the ship, casually strolling and poking their heads into various venues, finally coming to a stop outside a small room emitting a throating, bluesy sound from what was clearly a talented songstress. Without much more than a quick look at each other, they headed inside and made their way to a table in the packed, smoky darkness.

Once drink orders were taken, Nikki stood to excuse herself to powder her nose, and upon her return five minutes later, was making her way past the bar and was already smiling at her beau in anticipation of a dance when she was grabbed roughly by the wrist and spun around.

"Let's dance," a bourbon-soaked fool slurred in her face.

"I can't, I'm here with..."

"Fuck him. C'mon," he persisted, dragging her towards the dance floor.

Cesare was standing the moment the man's hand had touched Nikki's wrist and he glided through the crowd shoving innocent couples out of his path. He covered so much ground so quickly that when Nikki looked up at their seat for him, he instead appeared in front of them from the crowd.

His fist jerked up into the man's stomach causing him to release her wrist and lurch forward, then Cesare slammed his forehead into the man's nose before grabbing him by the shoulders as one would a drunken friend being led from a bar. With the man disoriented and nursing a broken nose in Cesare's grasp, he turned to check on Nikki. Her eyes were wide with surprise at the situation as he started to force the man towards the door.

Cesare flung him across the deck and into the side-railing. Luckily the deck was clear as many of the ship's occupants were either in their cabins or enjoying some form of entertainment or another. Cesare took the man's neck in his hand and brought his face close. He was bleeding from his bent nose and seemed surprisingly well-dressed for his drunken trespasses.

"Who THE FUCK do you think you are?!" he growled at the bleeding suit, before gut punching him again causing his spine to ring against the metal railing.

To Cesare's surprise and the man's credit, he actually reared back and threw a punch of his own catching Cesare in the mouth. It had been an off-balance swing, but it cut the inside of his lip nonetheless. The taste of blood and the mental picture of the man profaning Nikki's skin sent Cesare into a rage. He let his fist fly, pummeling the man again and again as he clutched him by his collar leaned over the rail.

"Hey! Do you wanna dance?" Cesare asked the man as he leaned him out over the rail. Spitting blood he responded with a panicked, "Nein! No!" suddenly reverting to his native tongue and accent.

Sarcastically, Cesare cocked his ear towards the man, "What's that? You're here with someone else?"

The man desperately threw another hand at Cesare which glanced off his shoulder and was beginning to kick his legs as his torso slid further and further up the railing.

Suddenly Cesare pulled the man down close to his face and bellowed, "FUCK 'EM LET'S DANCE!" With a heave, the man went tumbling over the railing of the ship. His brief panicked yell was cut off sharply by the crack of his body connecting with the metal railing of the deck below before he plunged into the sea.

For a second, Cesare held onto the railing, not caring at all if anyone had seen what had happened. When his heart skipped thinking about Nikki inside, he spun around to find her already standing in the doorway of the lounge watching him...

A good and decent woman would have screamed, would have run for help, perhaps even would have attacked Cesare with flailing arms and uttered curses.

Nikki was neither good, nor decent. In that moment, her love for him grew impossibly larger. She walked towards him slowly, sparing a mildly curious glance over the railing at the coattails disappearing under the waves before taking Cesare's face in her hands. Leaning in, she swiped at the blood on the corner of his mouth with her tongue before placing the softest of kisses on his mouth, which even now was bruised and swelling under the deck lights. 

"We need to go," she said, wrapping an arm through his and guiding him away from the scene of the crime at a casual pace. Her heel caught on an envelope and sent it skidding a few feet ahead of them. Leaning over, she picked it up and tucked it into her clutch, assuming the German fool kept his currency inside. They passed the odd couple or two during the stroll back to their room, Cesare feigning a cough or a sneeze with his hand to hide his wound while Nikki politely delivered a nod or a wave.

Once inside their cabin, Cesare headed to the tiny restroom to attend to his face while Nikki retrieved the envelope and opened it. 

Not cash. A letter. The top part was soaked in bourbon and illegible, the ink having run every which way. The bottom, however, was clear as day.

...request your return from your diplomatic mission to the United States in order for you to fill the office of Chancellor of the Republic. If you decline I'll be forced to give the seat to Adolph.

-Signed, President Paul von Hindenburg

When Cesare emerged from the bathroom, washcloth held to his lip, he found a very confused Nikki, who was extending a telegram in his direction.