Title: Expected Routines, and Their Disturbance
Summary: The Tenth Boss of the Vongola has an expected routine to his days. When Gokudera gets picked up by the police, that routine is, sadly, disrupted. And by sadly, it's not sad for Tsuna. It's sad for the people who took his right hand away before Tsuna has even had his coffee.
Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except the incidental characters, particularly D.I. Black and D.S. Green
notes: So, this is going to be about 3 chapters long, and mostly Gokudera and Tsuna focussed. Set about 4-5 years after the end of the series, Tsuna's the Decimo, but we aren't near TYL either.
This is how a morning in the Vongola mansion should go:
Tsuna wakes up at 7:30, ruffles Lambo's hair and smiles at I-Pin as they head out the door for school, and then makes his way to the Small Parlor, where Gokudera is waiting with his first stack of reports, a carafe of coffee, and whatever the kitchens have provided for breakfast. While Gokudera summarises what they've learned overnight, Tsuna reads various newspapers (The Times- both British and New York- The Guardian, The International Herald Tribune- Asahi Shimbun and UAE versions- and the Financial Times, along with the local paper) and picks at his breakfast. Gokudera fusses until he eats at least two pieces of toast, or whatever is equivalent, then they decamp at 8:15 to the Green Office, where Tsuna signs what needs signing, and Gokudera types up summaries and moves actions on Tsuna's own slim laptop, and the rest of the hour passes, if not peacefully, at least quietly.
At 9:00, Tsuna is passed off to Yamamoto as an escort (if he isn't out on a mission) for a meeting with the CEDEF, while Gokudera deals with whatever actions Tsuna has approved, and at 9:30, the group moves to the training grounds. Reborn says that a boss cannot rest on his laurels, and Tsuna almost gets shot, usually around sixty times. He runs several kilometres while Yamamoto runs his kata, and if Hibari is there, they spar.
At 11:00, another meeting, this time with Gokudera and a secondary bodyguard (Tsuna likes Cesare, but Gokudera prefers it when Macchia escorts them), where they deal with an external presence. Sometimes its a friendly- Dino, or Yuni- sometimes ambivalent- Tsuna had, after all, made peace with several families- and sometimes, on particularly bad days, with an enemy.
12:30, lunch, sometimes as a meeting, sometimes as a break, and Tsuna cannot really say if he prefers one or the other. Reborn occasionally takes advantage of Tsuna's slightly lowered guard to torment him and steal his food, and sometimes, lunch meetings can end up friendly.
Finally, the morning is over, and Tsuna can turn to the next stage of the day. When they aren't at home, the routine changes slightly (no small parlour, no green office, often no training), but not to any noticeable extent.
This is how this morning happened:
Tsuna is awoken at 7:00. Not by the softly escalating sound of his alarm clock, but by Lambo's loud yell, and two small hands on his arm.
Tsuna is awake immediately. This is not really Lambo's fault, but Reborn's. Tsuna is more than used to the need to dodge a round to the forehead at a random hour of the night, or a pair of defibrillator paddles at some early morning interval that had a logic only Reborn could understand. His hands immediately come up, ready to punch, and it's only Lambo's eyes- both of them open- that stops him. Lambo and I-Pin had come along on this trip by way of nagging. Lambo said he wanted to meet cute English girls (already flirting, where had the time gone?), and I-Pin had argued that if Lambo got to come, so should I-Pin. Eventually, he'd agreed, and well, it was nice seeing them during the day. Not something he wanted to deal with on a consistent basis, bless the school system for the peace and quiet that came from Lambo not being around Gokudera, but nice, for a while.
"Tsuna, the police are here!"
There's a knock on the door, and the sound of I-Pin, yelping in indignation as someone who is not even slightly part of the guardian group dares to interrupt the Decimo in his quarters. Well, his temporary quarters- the London penthouse wasn't the Vongola mansion, but it wasn't exactly a hotel, either.
"Gokudera? Yamamoto?" Tsuna asks, quickly swapping his sleep shirt for a deep orange button up, whipping a tie around his neck in seconds ("Now, now, Tsuna, you never know when a boss will have to get changed quickly. Your last knot took almost twenty seconds, and was lopsided." Reborn cocks his pistol, "Do better this time.") and slipping into a pair of trousers. No time for to change, so he slips fuzzy, sheep covered socks into his oxfords, and has just put on his jacket when the door opens.
"Mr. Sawada," says the calm voice of Macchia, a tall, dark man with bright hazel eyes and a constantly dour expression, "the detectives insist that you're needed at the station."
"Gokudame-" Lambo snickers to himself, "got taken in. Maybe ten minutes ago? Word only just got back here. Yamamoto is dealing with the staff."
Tsuna nods, straightening his cuffs and slipping in his usual cufflinks- understated sterling silver, a graduation present from his mother- as he falls into step in front of Macchia, who is, quite properly, a step behind and to the left.
Gokudera is always on the right, but today, Lambo lopes along in his place.
"Oh, kami-sama," Tsuna stops suddenly, "is Hibari in town?"
"No, he's still in Colombia," Macchia says helpfully, and Tsuna lets out a heavy sigh.
"Well, that's a small miracle."
It's only 7:05, and Tsuna is already incredibly unhappy with how this day is turning out.
Gokudera should have just woken up. Instead, he's sitting at a table in what he sure is New Scotland Yard, hands cuffed and facing a stubborn looking D..I and his partner. The D..I introduced himself as Black, his partner as Green, and they'd both ignored his raised eyebrow at their partnered names with nothing but a shared look of 'this again? this happens every time'.
"So, Mister…?" Green trails off, and Gokudera obligingly fills the gap.
"Hayato Gokudera," he says. He shouldn't actually be in trouble. He's never caused much chaos in London. He'd never caused much chaos in London that could be traced back to him, he corrects himself, and even this time, he was pulled in on self defence.
"Hayato Gokudera...That's Japanese, right?" Black says cheerily, and Gokudera shrugs, slumping back in his seat.
"I want to make a phone call. I want my lawyer. And I have work in half an hour-" It's already 6:50, he should be half way through the international reports, writing his summaries for the tenth's perusal during their afternoon meeting, flagging important matters for the breakfast briefing. He should have checked the progress of the staff, swept the parlor- the dining room, here in the London Penthouse- for bugs, and generally be ready for the tenth's arrival- "I need to let my boss know what happened."
"And what did happen, Mr. Gokudera?" Green asks, leaning forward and tapping her pen on her notepad. There's a microphone between them, picking up every word, which means Gokudera has to get this right the first time.
"I saw the two girls, and the group of assholes harassing them. I was out on my jog, about an hour earlier than usual because I knew I had a lot to do today," he takes a moment to glare at the detectives for this delay, "so I went over and asked if the dickfaces were bothering them. They said yes. I told the guys to fuck off, and apparently, they took offence. When they refused to leave, I beat them up, and offered to walk the girls home. That's when officer fuckhead brought me in."
It's fairly close to what actually happened. Gokudera had been out looking for trouble- a gang by the name of the Razors had been causing a bit of a fuss for the London office, and he hadn't had a real fight in weeks- so he'd been strolling the streets, looking for a few of them to use an object lesson for their idiot leader. Eventually, he found their second in command, and a few idiots, messing with a pair of high school girls, probably on their way home from a party, and he'd leaped at the opportunity. Unfortunately, he'd leaped at the wrong moment, and a nearby PC had seen the tail end of the brawl.
"Jogging? In that outfit?" Green asked, and Gokudera looked down at himself.
Neat, dark jeans, black sneakers, a black suit jacket over a Storm red button up shirt, unbuttoned enough to show the collar of his black tee-shirt, his five favourite necklaces, a wristcuff, some bracelets, and eight rings.
"Yep," Gokudera said coolly, crossing his arms. "I want that phone call now, please."