Hi! This is a Baccano! fanfic written by me and Black Cat Running. ^^ Black Cat Running did most of the work though. XD I hardly did anything. ^^' Anyway, this story is pretty much just what the title says. XD This is set after 1932 after Claire finally reunites with Chane in Manhattan. Again, this is mostly anime based, but its got some light novel references here and there. Oh! It's also set kind of all over the place like the anime, but we both thought it was a good idea. XD Anyway, we hope you enjoy! ^^


"The best way to keep the Rail Tracer from showing up is to believe the story when someone tells it to you. But if it's already here, your only hope is to keep running until the morning sun rises."


"There is one way to be spared. You just have to kill it, before it kills you."


"Mercy and compassion are virtues that only the strong are privileged to possess. And I am strong."


Felix Walken did not move, but his mind stirred from his thoughts and he felt very little as he recalled the events of so long ago. So very long ago it had been, after all. 1931, was it? 1932? He should remember it, but it was only a fond lump of memories now.

"I told you. Try to call me Felix."

"How many times are you going to change that name, huh? What is this, your fourth one?"

Felix smiled a ghostly smile, lingering over only a small portion of his face and for only a short time. He did not turn to face Luck Gandor. Felix did not need to. After nearly a century with the man as a brother, it was not necessary to do some things any more.

"As many times as it suits me, I guess," he said. His elbow was propped up against the arm rest on the window side of the car, and his wide, mirrored sunglasses masked his eyes from the world beyond the glass. He watched it zoom by, watching all the other cars chugging on their merry way down the freeway. It was a shame that no one rode trains anymore.

"The twenty-first century sure is turning out to be a boring millennium," said Felix. It was all he could say, because it was true. No crime, or at least not like in the golden days. Back then gangsters carried as many guns as they wanted right in the open air on the streets, and the cops did not do anything, because gangsters were the cops. Booze was quick to appear and slow to go, there were no rules and Felix could enjoy his show. But here, in what could be considered the future, it was dull. It was sad, even. Felix was slouched in his seat, fist against his face, staring out the window. He could see the faintest outline of his reflection. Not a day older, indeed.

Luck glanced over at him, only one of his hands on the leather wheel. His face arranged into that quaint smile he normally sported, and he sighed. "Maybe so, but you have to admit that America's come a long way from prohibition. You can buy liquor anywhere now."

"Sure, but wine these days is dry and besides, it's no fun to drink if it's legal."

They both laughed for a moment, but it passed soon enough. It was silent for a moment before Luck had to slam on the breaks to keep from rear-ending the Sudan in front of them. While Luck's body ratcheted forward from inertia, Felix remained slouched in his seat, coolly still.

"These new cars," Luck complained, leaning over his steering wheel, "they're too fast at everything."

"Yeah, could you try to stop pumping the breaks at every stoplight? It makes the ride uncomfortable."

"Well, why don't you drive next time, huh? I hate cramming myself into these tiny sports cars anyway. Whatever happened to those roomy Cadillacs they used to make?"

Then the conversation trailed away and dwindled into silence. Felix turned up the stereo dial, listened, then cranked it down again. The music in this time was bad too.

"So how's Chane?" Luck asked, continuing the conversation. Felix sat back against his seat and his face contorted gently, subtly, into the face of one plagued by only the most potent spells of love.

"She's great. Up in France pursuing a career in clothing design. Starting a line of dresses with weapon straps, actually." He grinned wider at the sight of her in that white dress, glowing in the darkness of the warehouse. He knew she was the one the first time he laid eyes on her that day in the station.

Luck chuckled and made a sharp right turn that slammed Felix into the window.

"Hey, easy! I told you to stop doing that!"

"It's these cars, Claire. What can I do?"

"Pull over, I'm starved. And at least try and call me Felix, okay?"