Hello welcome back to Chapter Two! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I only own Arabella.

The last thing Arabella remembered before closing her eyes was the gentle smile Harry gave her as she lay on the bench, exhausted, overwhelmed and unsure what was going to happen. She felt like she'd only been asleep for a few minutes before she heard tires screeching and Harry swearing. Opening her eyes she looked around, sitting up as she did to see three large cars pulling up.

"Fucking Shit," Harry was saying as he saw them pulling up. Looking at Arabella he reached for her hand, taking it and pulling her from the bench. She clung tight to the jacket Harry had given her and her purse as he looked at the three cars before one of them opened the driver's door and started firing. "Shit- Come on." he pulled her quickly, running to one of the three small planes she had noticed sitting there. Running with him, her bare feet moving over the cement she couldn't help but scream as the plane they were running towards was suddenly engulfed in flames. "This way!" Harry shouted, pulling her to the further plane, the one the men would have a hard time hitting.

When they got to the plane Harry turned around, opening his umbrella and she stared in surprise as she realized that she could see through the umbrella and see the shapes of the cars driving towards them. "Get into the plane!" he ordered her and she opened the door, climbing into the plane. She moved from the pilot's seat to the seat next to it and when she realized there was no keys in the ignition, she started to search for it while Harry returned fire using his umbrella.

Finding the keys to the plane in the visor she looked at Harry as he climbed into the plane and took them from her. "You know how to fly this, yes?" Harry was turning on the plane, flipping switches, getting it all good to go before he looked back at her.

"To be honest, I've never flown on my own." he admitted making her look back at him in horror. "But I've seen Merlin do it enough times," he pushed the plane forward making her scramble for the seat belt. When they finally were taking off she looked at him while bullets still flew after them.

"Where your plane was?"

"I told you it was going to be there in an hour. You were only asleep for twenty minute before they showed up." he said as he looked at the controls and buttons.

"Where we are going?"

"Well," he said slowly. "I'm going to try to get us to the coast. From there I should be able to get us to Switzerland."

"Switzerland is North."

"Yes, I know, but if we can get to the coast I'm sure we'll be able to land the plane and then get onto a boat that will take us North." he told her as he looked at the different flashing lights and buttons on the plane.

"I think we will land the plane anyways." Arabella said as she looked over.

"Why do you say that?" he asked and she pointed to a flashing light.

"That means we have low fuel. We will not make it." she told him as she looked back to him. "You stole a plane with no fuel."

"Fuck." he muttered under his breath as she bit her lip, taking a breath she looked out the window and then back to him. "We're just going to have to land."

"Where?" she asked as he looked around before pointing to an area.

"It's clear over there." he told him and she looked at it and then at him in horror.

"That's the Vatican!"

"It's clear!" he told her as he started to bring the plane down. She quickly crossed herself, unable to look, she squeezed her eyes together and started to say a prayer in Italian under her breath.

She winced at the sound of the wheels screeching while he tried to control the land and when they finally stopped it hadn't felt like they'd hit anything. Opening her eyes she looked at the faces of the 140 different saints looking down at them.

"We are going to hell." she said as she found herself unable to move.

"Come on," he said unbuckling his seatbelt and then getting out of the plane. "The police will be here soon."

Getting out of the plane herself she was still holding his jacket and she slipped it on quickly before running over to him. "We should go." she said as she looked around at all of the faces.

"Agreed," he said as he looked around. "I need to check in and figure out what our next step should be."

"There is a train from Milan to Switzerland." she pointed out. "If we could have taken the plane to Milan, we could have done that."

"Is there a train to Milan?" he asked and she thought about it for a moment before shrugging.

"I think so, yes." she said.

"Where is the train station?"

After stealing another moped they got to the train station and after getting their tickets and realizing they had a little time before the train left Arabella sat next to Harry before pointing out "There is a shop across the street."

"Yes, there is." he agreed making her look at him with an exasperated sigh.

"I would like to go buy some clothes." He seemed to think about this for a moment before he looked at her outfit and nodding. It had been awhile since she had seen herself but her clothes and her bare feet were enough to make her assume she was in pretty rough shape.

"That's probably a good idea." he agreed. "I'll come with you."

After they killed some time in the shop, Harry having used the phone at the shop to call someone and tell them something, they went to a cafe in the train station and got them each a cup of coffee and a pastry. Arabella held the clothes bag, but wore her new shoes so people would stop staring at the bare footed woman, though, honestly, she guessed she looked pretty bad by the way people would stare.

When they finally got onto the train Harry lead her to their compartment, he of course had requested a private compartment for them and while it was only a three and a half hour trip from Rome to Milan the arm rests in the seat folded up and she would be able to lay across the seats. Harry excused himself to go to the washroom and while he was gone Arabella took the opportunity to take her old clothes off, how they had gotten so covered in blood and dirt she didn't know, but she rolled them up and opened up her shopping bag, pulling out the green shorts, white tank top and tan button down shirt she'd bought in the store. She'd pulled on the shorts and was buttoning them up when the compartment door slid open and Arabella turned around, holding her hands over her chest.

Harry paused as he took in the scene before him before he cleared his throat, looking down. "My apologies."

"In or out." she told him and he stepped into the compartment quickly, shutting the door as she lowered her hands and zipped up her shorts.

"It would seem the train is running a few minutes late," he told her. "I heard someone saying they were going to be leaving about ten minutes later." She grabbed the tank top and pulled it over her head before she cleared her throat.

"You can look now." she told him and when he turned away from the compartment door he kept his eyes on the floor for a moment before slowly, almost shyly lifting his eyes to look her over slowly. She gave him a small smile when he looked up at her and held her hands out. "Better?"

"Well, cleaner, that's for sure." he told her making her smile wider. "Speaking of, if you go clean your face, I'll tend to those wounds." he said making her frown slightly.

"Wounds?"

"Yes, you have a few cuts on your face," he told her before pointing to the left. "Go just to the left, there's a bathroom there, you can clean up." Arabella nodded, stepping out of the compartment and walking to the bathroom, when she got there, it took all of her effort not to cry. At some point she had gotten cut in the face, probably from the flying glass when the car rolled, there were spots and bumps all over her arms and after inspecting one of them she realized there was a small piece of glass in her arm.

It's strange how your body doesn't let you feel the ailments and injuries until everything is calm, Arabella supposed it was adrenaline, and after washing her arms and face with the hand soap provided in the bathroom she wiped down her face and patted down her arms she decided to try to do something about her hair. After brushing it with her fingers and braiding it she tied it off with a black scrunchie she'd found in her purse. She took the next moment to stare into the mirror, just taking a moment to collect. Her hazel eyes stared back, taking in her heart shaped face, her swept back, messy chestnut hair pulled into a braid and her high cheekbones. Her full lips were cracked slightly and she remembered she had a chapstick in her purse, which she was thankful for. After another moment of taking a deep breath she sighed and then turned and walked out of the bathroom. When she walked into the compartment again Harry was sitting there, looking out the window and then looking at his watch.

"You have made contact with your peoples?" she asked and he looked up before nodding.

"Yes, we should be in Milan in about three hours, then we'll board another train to Switzerland. It shouldn't take too long from there." he told her making her nod. "Are you okay?"

"There is glass," she said gesturing to her arms. Harry stood and walked over, gently taking one of her arms and looking at the small wounds before he nodded.

"I see. I'm afraid I'm going to need to get that out." he told her before gesturing for her to sit down. When she did he sat down next to her, reached into his inner pocket and pulled out what looked like a small sewing kit. "The scissors can cut through any metal," he told her making her raise her eyebrows. "The needle and thread are designed for suturing wounds," he continued. "The buttons are small listening devices," he pulled a small pair of tweezers out of the kit.

"And those?" she asked and he gave a small smile.

"They're tweezers." he told her, smiling a little wider when she stared at him blankly. "This will likely hurt." he warned her as he started to pluck the glass from her arms. It took a long time, with the train moving Harry was slow and precise with his movements. When he was sure her arms were free of glass he left the compartment for a few minutes and then came back with a few damp paper towels from the bathroom and then a few dry ones as well. After wiping down her arms he patted them dry. "Not too bad?" he asked and she shrugged.

"It was not too nice." he chuckled lightly and nodded.

"I know," he agreed. "But you did very well." Running her hands over her arms lightly she looked out the window before she felt him gently touch her cheek. Looking back at him she quirked an eyebrow. "Just looking at the cuts." he told her making her give a small nod before tilting her face to give him a better look at the cuts.

"They will scar?"

"They may," he said as he looked at them. "Not deep scars, but they may."

"A face with scars? Not very becoming." she said with a small scoff, his brow creasing in a slight frown.

"Oh I wouldn't say that." he shook his head slightly as he shook his head. "Scars show character, they show you've lived and seen a lot." he said making her shrug. "If you'd like you can get some rest," he slowly pulled his hand from her face and cleared his throat.

"Oh," Arabella hadn't honestly thought about sleep, but now that she was thinking about it her whole body ached and she was ready to lay down and do just that. Harry stood and pushed the armrests up for Arabella who rolled up her old clothes and used them as a pillow as she curled up on the row of seats. Closing her eyes she sighed before she felt Harry drape the jacket over her again. Smiling slightly she pulled it a little closer before mumbling "Grazie."

The train was still rattling along when Arabella woke up a little while later, opening her eyes she sat up, looking at Harry who had his arms crossed and was sleeping on his own row of seats. Sniffling she stretched and then looked out the window before checking her purse. She still had plenty of cash on her so she decided to walk down to the snack car and get them another coffee since their had both gone cold while they slept.

Arabella laid Harry's jacket onto the seat and walked down the train car, moving until she got to the snack car she ran a hand over her face and then after getting two coffees and two pastries before heading back to the compartment. As she walked she was looking at the change she was handed, not paying attention and almost bumped into a large man. She nearly dropped her change and the man gave a snort of derision as she stooped to catch it. Looking up at him as he passed she looked back to the floor quickly, her eyes wide as she realized he was one of the men from the car the night before. His face was covered in cuts and swollen but he was surprisingly alive and somehow he was on this train!

After getting back to the compartment she set the coffees down before shaking Harry's arm. "Wake up English!" she said quickly. "The man from the car, he is here."

"Which man?" Harry sat up, rubbing his own eyes as he seemed to try and process what she was saying. "Whose car?"

"The one who take me last night, the… The… " she tried to think for a moment, the panic and lack of restful sleep making it hard to translate in her head. Waving her hands as she spoke quickly she asked in Italian- hoping to god he knew Italian. "The... come si dice enorme?" Harry's face was blank for a moment before he quickly replied with:

"Huge!"

"Yes! Yes, the huge one! He is here! On the train!"

"How is he here?"

"I don't know, you're supposed to be Mr. Spy, you tell me James Bond, how he is here?"

Harry was at a loss for words, the only person he'd told they were getting onto the train was Arthur back at Kingsman HQ, and there was no way Arthur would want anything to happen to a member of a royal family, dethroned or not, he held the royal family to a higher regard than half of the people in his own country, he was such a snob- And then Harry found himself looking out the window. Of course.

"I was wrong."

"Che cosa?"

"I was wrong, they're not here to kill you- at least I don't think they are."

"It's funny how they show it with all the shooting!"

"I think they were trying to shoot me."

"Oh yes, the bullet will know not to hit me."

"Yes, I- I know." Harry held his hands up as if he were surrendering. "But the only people who knew we were at the airstrip were the people I work for and they said they'd send a plane to us in about an hour. And when we were in the shop I told them what our plan was for traveling."

"If they know you are trying to get me to Switzerland, why are they trying to stop that?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I don't think they want you to get to Switzerland." he said thoughtfully. "I just don't know why."

"A failed monarchy is just that- a failure." she pointed out and he nodded. "I am no more special than anyone else."

"I know, but my boss doesn't think that way, you were born to what some would consider high breeding."

"You know that is bullshit, yes?" she asked. "Aristocrats, they were weak. Because they only marry their cousins."

"Don't get me started." he shook his head. "But it fits, it makes sense Arthur has something to do with this."

"I think maybe," Arabella said as she sat across from Harry, looking at him seriously. "It's time you tell me who you work for."

Eggsy stared at Arabella. "That old cunt, he was trying to pick you up?"

"Yes, I suppose that is a way of saying it, yes." she nodded with a smile.

"What did he want?"

"I don't know, not really. I never actually met him." she explained making Eggsy's face fall.

"You told me he died. You know he lived for twenty years after what he tried to do to me." she pointed out and he nodded.

"I killed him you know." he told her and she gave him a small nod.

"Well done."

"It was him or me."

"I know that feeling." she agreed making him smile. "That earns you dinner. You'll stay?"

"Ah," he looked at his watch before nodding. "Yeah, I'll stay."

"Good." she nodded. "And then I tell you what happened when we get to Switzerland."

"Okay," he nodded with a grin. "I'm just gonna make a phone call."

"Your girlfriend?"

"My mum." Arabella smiled and nodded as she stood up and started to walk to the kitchen. Part of her wanted to cry, wanted to sob and throw things and beg for Harry back, but the more rational part knew what she was going to do was drink her wine, cook dinner for herself and this boy, the friend of Harry's, maybe she'd light a candle and say a prayer for his soul and then she'd cry while she went to sleep that night. But first, she had dinner to cook. It's always easier to put off crying when you have a task to do first.

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