The scene opens up onto a view of the Chicago skyline. It’s around an hour after Havoc has finished airing and the light is just starting to dip. (Vanessa) … and you’re sure he’s ok? (Hans): Once security rushed the ring, jah, they got him out… not like there wasn’t plenty of ambulances around either. (Vanessa): Oh my god… where is Jeremy then? (Hans): I heard them say Mount Ascension… A small shrug of the shoulders. (Hans): But it could be one of the others. Main thing is, he’s in the right hands. (Vanessa): Unless he pulls the same stunt that Matt or Maniac did… Hans exhales slowly, nodding at his wife's words. (Hans): Jah… scheiße… literally… (Vanessa): Oh please don’t. I almost threw up over Jason earlier… She gestures widely with her free hand, taking in the park around them. (Vanessa): Let’s not ruin this place with me vomiting everywhere. She smiles up at Hans as she carries on. (Vanessa): Besides, that’d mean that wonderful meal we had for lunch would go to waste. I’ll need to my parents know they can get good southern food this far north. (Hans): I’ll have to thank my brother, he’s the one that told me about Virtue. (Vanessa): Do you need to get back to the academy tomorrow? (Hans): Nein, I told them I’d be taking the day off and not rushing back. Work life balance, if I’ve taught them anything in the last few weeks, it’s that they need to have it. He draws her closer, right arm snaking round her waist as they slowly walk through the park and towards the looping stainless steel of the bridge crossing over to the great lawn, the skyline of Chicago rising up from the trees and parks around them. (Vanessa): So what do we do tomorrow then, if you’ve not to get back to the academy? (Hans): Whatever you’d like. It’s only fair as I’ve made plans for today. He points ahead, over to the end of the bridge and with it, the beginning of Millenium Park, her gaze following to rest upon the brickwork of the Chicago Athletics hotel. (Hans): I’ve got us a table at Cindy’s in a half hour, maybe we go downstairs and have some games afterwards? (Vanessa): That sounds wonderful my love… wait, is this the pretzel place you’ve been going on about? (Hans): I mean… jah… but… He can’t help but flash her a confused look only for her to stick her tongue out, clearly winding him up. (Hans): You’re buying your own cocktails… (Vanessa): Uh-huh… They lean in, noses almost touching as they say something to one another that’s not picked up by the camera. (Vanessa): Well if you don’t need to be back tomorrow, do we need to go over there and pick up some jerseys for your nephew? (Hans): Verzeihen? I don’t follow. (Vanessa): What’s the NFL team your nephew follows? Is it the Bears? Hans stares blankly at his wife for a moment, a slow shake of the head beginning as he struggles to answer in a meaningful way. (Hans): Who’s winning right now? Vanessa’s head cocks to one side at this. (Vanessa): How do you not know honey? (Hans): Who’s winning or who he follows? (Vanessa): *Laughing* Well both I guess. (Hans): Urgh… I… scheiße. He gives up, causing Vanessa to just laugh louder. (Vanessa): Oh, babe. Do you really not know? (Hans): Nein. My bruder was always a… a glory seeker… so whoever was winning was his team. He glances at his wife who’s still grinning. (Hans): So that made buying anything for him difficult one year to the next. (Vanessa): Oh poor you. Hans bites his lower lip, holding back a retort as he takes his wife’s ribbing in good humour. (Vanessa): So if it’s someone that’s winning, then that’s not the Bears. (Hans): Maybe we get a top anyway, maybe they will be next year, no? Vanessa pats his arm. (Vanessa): No honey, no they won’t be… They look at one another, locking eyes once again. (Vanessa): I’ve still so much to teach you it would seem. But then… you always seemed to know enough when we visited my parents or you go round and visit Butch and watch a game…? (Hans): I don’t. I just like the wind up by supporting the other team. (Vanessa): Because that’s what good friends do, right? (Hans): Right. Ignoring the sarcasm outright, Hans acts innocent, causing his wife to roll her eyes at him. (Vanessa): Speaking of that… my dad… (Hans): Jah? (Vanessa): You do know he’s not forgiven you, right? Hans side eyes his wife, one eyebrow arching upwards. (Hans): Not sure where you’re going with this mein schatz… (Vanessa): Oh you do Mr. She leans in slightly. (Vanessa): Minneapolis Miracle, ring any bells? Hans’ eyes narrow fractionally, cogs turning in his head. (Hans): Nein… I… ah. Clicking his fingers together on his free hand as he joins the dots, he then can’t help but find himself tilting his head back and laughing uproariously, causing Vanessa to jab her finger back into his chest. (Vanessa): Do you have any idea how close he was to getting his gun that night? You know damn well how much he loves his Saints. Smiling despite her words, the two of them lock hands, staring at one another for a moment. Fighting back more laughing, Hans’ efforts cause Vanessa to dramatically roll her eyes, mirth very much evident nonetheless. A few moments pass as Hans composes himself. (Hans): That’ll be why we don’t go round when the Saints games are on anymore then, jah? (Vanessa): Uh-huh… The two smile and laugh once more. (Vanessa): And that’s why he wanted you round for when Stuttgart got relegated a few seasons ago, remember? (Hans): Ah… I did wonder why he was such a Berlin fan that day… A memory from that day comes to him and his eyes lock onto his wifes, one corner of his mouth curling up, already guessing the answer to the question he’s about to ask. (Hans): And I suppose that Union top he was wearing that day had nothing to do with you… (Vanessa): Me? She kisses him on the lips, acting coy. (Vanessa): I don’t know what you mean darling. They stare at one another for a few more seconds before Hans chuckles with amusement and they resume their walk. (Hans): Well played… (Vanessa): Better than your team did that day. Hans acts shocked, an audible gasp escaping him before it turns into another laugh. He gently nudges his wife with his arm, pushing her away fractionally. Vanessa repeats the same act back to him, smiling the whole time. (Vanessa): Speaking of playing better. What games am I going to beat you at later? A withering gaze falls upon his wife, cracking up even as it forms. (Hans): You’re very confident for someone who lost every game of pool last time we played. Waving away his concerns, she responds. (Vanessa): You were clearly cheating the whole time my love, let’s not go there. (Hans): So ein Misthaufen! (Vanessa): No, what’s rubbish is your excuse… The camera slowly starts to fall behind them as they continue on their way as the scene fades to black, the two of them now laughing again as they continue their mock argument.
Into view walks Hans and Vanessa von Richtoven, attired appropriately for the dry and pleasant weather Chigaco has at this time, walking hand in hand through the green and leafy backdrop of Maggie Daley Park.
The camera follows them at a comfortable distance for a short while, the pair pacing their walk and idly chatting to one another.
Moving closer, the conversation becomes audible.
Another minute or so passes by as they carry on walking, before Vanessa gestures to her right, far in the distance the top of Soldier Field can be seen scraping the horizon.
Vanessa comes to a stop, Hans matching her as they face one another. She gently jabs a finger into his chest.
He glances at his wife a few seconds later, somewhat grudgingly admitting the following.
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