Strings for the Veteran (Closed)

[prettyserpentine]

The music swelled to a rising crescendo as the conductor held his baton high and away from his body. He guided the orchestra to their crashing finish, the strings of the violins straining, the flautists' lungs tightening and then... fin. He brought his hands back down to his sides, and nodded his head sharply.

"Excellent! Fantastic! Best you've been yet, and we still have a week to perfect it."

He pointed at one young man in the brass section. "You are coming down with a cold. See your doctor." The young man nodded, and everyone started to rise from their seats, gather their sheet music and fold away their stands.

Everyone except a cellist in the third row of the string section. The older man next to her locked his cello case and hoisted it over his shoulder with ease.

"Elin, aren't you coming? Some of us are going for a drink and a light supper..."

The young woman looked up at him with a genial smile. She had a strikingly pretty face, with vivid green eyes, and the lightest, barely noticeable freckles across her nose. Her hair was a mop of curls that surrounded her head like a mess, hanging almost to her chin. She shook her head, and the curls bounced.

"No thank you, Carl. I need to stay here, I want to work on the second movement. I might meet you down at the bar when I finish... If I'm not too long," she added. Her voice had a slight accent, the very faintest tinge of Russian, from her mother's side. She had been a ballerina.

"Well try and not be very long, darling," he said with an air of a fatherly attitude. "It is already half past eight."

She smiled. "I will try, but no promises." She winked at him as she pulled her cello close to herself, positioning it over her knees as she lifted the bow. Drawing the implement across the strings, it elicited a deep, mournful sound. She tuned it a little, before she closed her eyes, positioned the bow, and started to play Bach.

Her favourite.

It had been her father's favourite too, and it always made her feel close to him. She played and played, until her fingers ached. She shook them, flexing them and resolving to file her nails. Nails of such length never helped when playing the cello, not to work the strings. She glanced up at the clock when she had finished. It was just passing by 10pm. The others would hopefully still be at the bar. She opened her cello case and lifted the instrument, laying it down carefully, as one would lay down a child that had fallen asleep, so as not to waken it. She secured it, and then put the bow in its position, closed the lid and locked it, securing it with a tiny padlock.

She visited the rest room, and picked up her handbag and wrap from the cloakroom. She was wearing a short black dress, having come straight from a date to rehearsal. It was lacy, mid-thigh length with long sleeves. But the black shimmering tights saved it from looking too much. The heels aided her quite short height of 5'4", although they weren't overly big. She found it hard to carry a cello in killer heels. She threw the wool wrap around her shoulders, pulled on her leather gloves and wool beret, and gently lifted the cello over her shoulder.

As the door clicked locked behind her, Elin turned, checking the door before making sure it was safely locked. She left the music hall and started walking down the street. It was starting to snow a little. She looked up at the street lights and grinned. Winter was her favourite time of the year. Perfect music weather.

As she rounded the corner of the block, she was greeted by the warm glow of the little bar they all frequented. She ushered her way inside, and headed up to the bar. It didn't take her long to find Carl and the others. She sat down, ordered a single glass of red wine, and began to chat to her friends.

They stayed until almost midnight, talking music, arguing over composers and books, and even though Elin had only taken two glasses of wine, she felt very tipsy. It seemed to have worsened when she came back from the restroom. Perhaps she had drank someone else's drink. The others had started to filter off. Carl had left with one of the percussionists, a middle aged man called Alfredo. Italian. Carl liked Italians, and they had started sleeping together almost as soon as Alfredo had made it into the orchestra. The others had left in twos and threes, until Elin rose from her chair with her cello, of course, and went outside to hail a taxi.

Her family had been wealthy, and when her father had passed away, Elin had lived with her aunt in Washington DC until her trust fund had become accessible. Then, when she hit 21, the fortune was hers. She kept the family home in the country, and an apartment in Boston where she worked with the orchestra. Her apartment wasn't too far, but it was just far enough to walk at this time of night, in the snow.

As soon as Elin opened the door, and the air hit her, she felt for the wall. Her mind was foggy, addled, and she thought she must be coming down with a cold. She never felt like this after two glasses of wine. She felt so sleepy. Clutching her purse to herself, and the cello over her shoulder, she reached her hand out for a cab. Every one that stopped seemed to get another customer before she made it to the kerb. She walked a little further up the street and around the corner. It was darker, a couple of the street lights were out.

"Shit," she cursed lightly, her cheeks flushed. She stopped at a phone booth, looking around but the street was so quiet. She fumbled in her purse to find a quarter, swaying dangerously. She felt like she might be sick, or fall asleep, and could barely stand. Her breath quickened, and her heart raced. She slumped against the wall, grazing her knee and barely noticing the hole in her tights and the blood.

'What is wrong with me...' She thought, coughing, when she felt strong hands lift her, helping her to her feet. She looked up gratefully, but couldn't see her rescuer's face. He was wearing dark clothes, and his breath smelled like those really extra strong mints. The really strong ones. He had a fedora on that was pulled over his eyes.

She could have sworn she had seen a fedora in the cloakroom earlier. Was that in the rehearsal or the bar? She could barely remember, her head was so fuzzy.

"I'm just trying to find a quarter to call a taxi..." She explained. He didn't let her go, but instead lifted her small frame into an adjacent alleyway, just beside a pawnshop. She could smell the garbage and it made her almost retch. "I...I really need to go..."

He shoved her against the wall, and her cello fell from behind her, crashing to the ground. Elin scowled, bending to retrieve her cello and her slipping purse when she felt her head connect painfully with the wall. Everything went white for a moment and she fought the hazy feeling, the blossoming sickness, before she realised what was happening. She opened her mouth to scream and felt a gloved hand clamp across it, pinning her head to the wall with another violent thud. She felt weak, exhausted, but adrenaline started to course through her. She started to bash her fists on her attacker's face, until his hand came down across her cheek, hard. It knocked her to the ground and she felt something in her left wrist twinge painfully. She could taste blood, and then he was pinning her to the wall, hitching her skirt up and she could feel something sharp. She froze.

She heard the rip of material, and felt the cold night air against her thighs, against everything. She felt her dress flap, where once it had been tight to her skin. Elin started to shake as the sharp thing traced along the inside of her naked thigh, and then his legs were pinning hers apart, against the cold wall. He grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head, and then his other hand, she could feel fumbling, against her thighs.

A zipper.

She found her voice. Not caring if it meant he hit her again, Elinor Ilya Mironov opened her bloody lips and screamed for her life.


Elin: http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m2hmomEIrz1qalt7yo1_1280.jpg
Bach: http://youtu.be/DwHpDOWhkGk

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Nicholas McKenzie knew why cats preferred to lie inside cardboard boxes. Cardboard retained heat because of the little layers of air between the inner and outer wall. He'd found shelter for the night in a large box right outside the pawnshop where he'd pawned his laptop. He'd hated doing that, but unemployment being at an all-time high and day-to-day jobs being fought over by all and sundry, the odds of him seeing real money any time soon were slim. So despite the fact that his life's work was on the hard disk of the laptop, he'd had no choice but to trade it for cash.

Not that he really cared any more. He'd more or less given up at this point. He'd tried to be a good soldier without knowing that it had meant turning a blind eye to certain things and kissing copious amounts of ass. When he hit his CO after an incident in Iraq, he was dishonorably discharged after a brief stint in an Army psychiatric ward in Kuwait, prolonging his stay after his unit rotated home.

When he finally came home, he was met by his wife at the airport. She told him two things: she was pregnant with another man's baby and she wanted a divorce. He soon found out she'd emptied his savings account and not paid on the loan on their house. The bank foreclosed, and that was that. He was without a home and income. Moving back in with his parents was not an option. His father had killed himself after a few real estate investments went sour in the crash of 2008. His mother had remarried with unseemly haste and wanted nothing to do with him after joining the Army. And his sister? Best not to think about her. Their mother at least took care of her, and that was something.

Nicholas McKenzie was a native bostonian, his scottish and irish ancestry evident in his looks and his temper. His upbringing had been unremarkable. Raised in a suburb of Boston, he'd had the same joys and worries as most middle class american kids. He'd done well in school (especially in creative writing) and he'd wrestled and boxed for his high school and college. He'd wanted to be a writer more than anything, but he felt he couldn't be a good writer without experiencing this strange and wonderful thing called life. So he dropped out of college and joined the Army. His mother was furious and told him he was squandering his gift and that he was cut off.

After 9/11 he was deployed in Afghanistan. The only link to his family was his sister Erin. They corresponded by mail and later by e-mail. When he was deployed to Kuwait right before the invasion of Iraq, her e-mails abruptly stopped. His father finally e-mailed him and told of what had happened to Erin. Nicholas had requested a compassionate leave, but was denied it as they were set to go in two days. When he finally got to go home he went to see her. It broke his heart. It was while home from Iraq that he met his now ex-wife. The less said about that fiasco the better.

Oh well. No reason in dredging up the past. It only made his ache more profound, and he was on the brink of ending his life as it was. This day had not helped in that regard. He'd been chased out of the park he'd slept in, so he went to the Salvation Army soup kitchen only to find out he was too late. All the food was gone, but he could maybe come back this afternoon? They showed him some pity and let him stay to get warm before they had to close up. Nicholas had sold or pawned off most of his belongings, but he'd dearly tried to hold on to his laptop. It contained an almost finished manuscript of a book he'd been working on the last couple of years. Now he had no choice. He had to get some food in him. He hadn't eaten in days and he grew dizzy with hunger.

He wept openly when he received the money for his laptop, he wept even more when he a few hours later discovered that a pickpocket had liberated him of his funds. At least he'd gotten some food in him and bought a pint of whiskey. By then he had gravitated towards the pawnshop again. Several years of his personal work was locked inside the shop and he at least wanted to be near it. On the way there he'd passed by an upscale bar. He stopped to have a look at the successful and happy people. There was a group of people engaged in a heated discussion. He noticed a pretty young woman with a cascade of curls passionately argue some point. Nicholas smiled. She looked like she didn't have a care in the world. Lucky her. He moved on.

He had settled down for the night in that big cardboard box. It was a box for a refrigerator, almost big enough to stretch his six foot frame in. He'd retained the fieldcraft skills from the army, and he had his backpack with clean socks and underwear and toiletries with him wherever he went. He also carried a weapon, a collapsible baton he'd liberated from a wannabe vigilante that had peed his pants when he'd been disarmed by a vagrant.

Nicholas rolled out his sleeping bag and settled in with his pint of whiskey, prepared to get drunk and fall into sweet oblivion. He'd regret it tomorrow of course, but that was tomorrow. For now he was content to- what was that noise? He saw a silhouette of a man in a fedora carry a woman in a short skirt and high heels into this very alley. By force of habit, Nicholas had done his best to camouflage himself. The couple hadn't seen him, apparently. But something was wrong. They seemed to be struggling. He hit her! And there was the unmistakeable flash of a knife. Nicholas was galvanized into action then. Remembering what had happened to Erin, he rose from his hide, baton in his hand.

She screamed at the same time that he unfolded the baton, hiding the series of clicks as the segments of the heavy melee weapon locked in place. Perfect. He closed the distance between the assailer and himself, but not before seeing a look of sheer terror on the woman's face. He'd struck her again as she screamed but that was the last time the assailant hit the woman that night. Using the full weight and force of his body, Nicholas swung his weapon. It hit him between the shoulder and elbow of his right arm and Nicholas was rewarded with a sickening *crack* as he broke the man's arm.

A surprised yell as if from a wounded animal echoed in the streets as Mr Fedora dropped the knife from his gloved hand and retreated. He took off in a run and Nicholas roared after him, a frustrated yet triumphant yell. He looked at the girl. She'd slumped down, her eyes unfocused yet wide with fear and shock. No wonder. He collapsed the baton and went over to her. He hunched down beside her. "Are you okay there, lady?" No reply. Her eyes still semed unfocused and she seemed sluggish in her movements. Strange. Unless... Of course. Mister fedora had probably spiked her drink. He could smell a little alcohol on her breath. Damn it all. He couldn't just leave her there.

He noticed her bag and looked through it for any clue of where she lived. He found a business card with her name: Elinor Ilya Mironov. She lived just a few blocks over, it seemed. He made a decision. Her clothes had been ripped and the night was cold. He gave her his jacket and picked up her cello case and purse.

"Okay Elinor, I'm going to get you home now. My name is Nicholas, by the way. You don't seem to be able to walk, so I'll carry you. I will not harm you, lady."

She looked at him and said nothing. Yep. She'd been drugged, all right.
And she was still in shock. Bad combination. He hefted her cello over his back and lifted her up. He placed her purse in her lap and started walking towards her apartment. All the while he kept talking to her to keep her anchored to reality. He told of how her assailant had had his arm broken, about how she was safe now and that her wounds weren't bad. He'd broken her lip and a tooth, but Nicholas knew it could have been much worse. Erin's face popped up in his head again and he was on the verge of tears. He hadn't been there for her, but at least he had saved Elinor here from the same fate. In time her wounds, both physical and mental, would heal. Or so he hoped.

He arrived at her address, and she'd started stirring. Still sluggish, she had a belated reaction to the assault as her brain started to process what had happened. She screamed out in protest at the injustice of this happening to her. And that was when the doorman in her building saw them. Before Nicholas registered what had happened, a prowler halted in front of him and a police officer firmly told him to let her go. Nicholas complied and was tackled to the ground and handcuffed for his troubles.

He looked at Elinor as he was roughly manhandled into the car. Please say something he thought. They closed the doors and drove off. Great. A perfect ending to a perfect day. He looked back and saw an ambulance arrive.

 

[prettyserpentine]

Elinor looked on in horror as the police manhandled her saviour to the ground in front of her. Her mind was addled, and she looked around in confusion, trying to concentrate and focus. She looked at the man as they handcuffed him. The blue lights of the ambulance illuminated his face as he turned to look at her, standing there on the sidewalk, the porter and a policeman holding her, keeping her standing. Her legs were knocking, and when they began to lead him to the squad car, she knew something was wrong. She lifted her good hand and pointed at him, opened her mouth, and an oddly hysterical noise came out.

"Get him out of here!" The policeman to her left ordered as she started to scream and cry. The ambulance pulled up, and the paramedics led her inside. The squad car sped off.

When they got inside the building, the porter had already notified the authorities. Several of her neighbours came out for a nosy too. The paramedics sat her down, discussing the hospital. She held her rescuer's jacket around her like a lifeline. Her tear streaked face looked up at the porter, as he looked at her solemnly, making the final phone call.

-------------------------------


The tall, middle aged woman with perfect blonde hair and expensive outfit arrived at the hospital just after nine in the morning. A limousine brought her to the back entrance, the front was clogged with photographers. She strode into the hospital with the air of someone who owned the place. Or at least had contributed to a sizeable wing of it.

She was greeted by the Chief of Staff, a tall authoritative man with a no nonsense attitude who wasn't afraid of her. He extended his hand.

"Mrs Mironov."

The woman shook his hand, and immediately looked around. "Where is my niece, Doctor Barnes? And who the hell told the damn press?" Her voice had a strong Irish accent. She was clearly a woman not to be fucked with, either.

He smiled sympathetically. "They arrived almost when she did. It's a damn circus out there. She's on the third floor, room 3K. We had to sedate her after the exam, Mrs Mironov. She's alright, her attacker beat her. She has a fractured wrist, it's been set and she's had to have a few stitches in the back of her head. But I don't think the scars will be physical."

Mrs Mironov nodded. "I understand. They caught the bastard?"

The doctor stood stoically before her. "They have a man in custody but it has not yet been established if he is the one who attacked her. When she came in, she was wearing a dirty old jacket. We haven't been able to separate her from it." He frowned. "After the obvious exam we had to do, she was allowed to take a shower." He glanced nervously to his left, and then looked up at her again. "The nurse left the room for a moment to fetch clean clothes..."

"Yes?" The woman demanded.

"She scrubbed herself, her legs, other...parts...almost raw, Mrs Mironov. Her skin was red and shining when the nurse came back to her. It's the shock, the psychological damage." He sighed, looking sadly as the older woman looked like she was going to either vomit or hit him. "She will recover. In time."

"Can I see her?"

"Of course. Just follow the Sister, she'll take you to her."

The two women walked in silence up to the third floor. The hospital was quiet, visitors were being vetted by security. The Sister stopped by 3K, and gestured.

"I'll let you have some time alone."

"Thank you," Mrs Mironov said. "My husband will be here in about half an hour. See he is directed to us?"

The Sister nodded, as the door opened. A nurse came out with a barely touched breakfast tray. She smiled at Mrs Mironov brightly. "She managed a little toast, and some water. You can go on in."

Clicking the door shut behind her, Greta Mironov threw off her coat, hat and scarf over a chair. She looked at the young woman in the bed, and she wasn't the badass guardian anymore, just a concerned aunt. She sat on the bed, gathering Elin into her arms.

"Baby..." She crooned, stroking her hair and rocking her. Elin sobbed.

"Oh Auntie, I'm so glad you came..." She managed after a good few minutes of crying. "Is Uncle Alex with you?"

"He'll be along, love. How are you?" She settled into the chair, stroking Elin's leg as she talked.

Elin smiled, conscious of her chipped tooth. Her face was badly bruised, her lip bust. She had a few scrapes and such, but nothing that wouldn't heal. Visibly. Her left arm was in a cast, right up to the elbow. "They say it's fractured. I won't be able to play in the recital next week," she said woefully. She looked up at Greta, shifting in the bed. "When can I go home?"

The older woman smiled. "When your uncle gets here. He's speaking with the lawyer about that bastard..." She held her tongue, her eyes alighting on the dirty, faded jacket.

Elin shook her head, her curls flying around her battered face. "No.. No!" She grasped her aunt's hand with her good one. "The one they took, I've been trying to tell someone but no one will listen! He's not the one..."

Greta frowned crossly. "What?"

"He stopped him. He was...in the alleyway. I think he's homeless..." Greta was nodding. Clearly she already knew this. "When it...when it..." Elin struggled to find the words. "He stopped him. He hit him, and he broke his arm... And then he carried me home."

Greta's eyes suddenly dawned with clarity. "Oh god... His fingerprints were all over your purse... But nothing was gone... We thought he was robbing you, not... looking for your address! Shit!" She grabbed her purse, pulling out her cell and dialling, cursing. "Alexey?"

Elin listened to the hastened conversation, before her aunt pressed the end call button, and the door burst open.

Elin's uncle, Alexey Mironov stood there. He was a brute of a man. Six foot five, and built like a tank. The total opposite from his sister, Elin's mother. He shut the door behind him, ranting in heated Russian. Greta stood, the only woman in the world it seemed who could calm him. He looked at Elin with sadness. He felt powerless.

"I will find this man, whoever this man is with the broken arm, I will find him, Elin, on the grave of my mother and sister, I swear it."

"Alexey would you sit down before your heart explodes, you fool!" Greta scolded. He obeyed, meekly, leaning over and kissing his niece on the head.

Elin explained about her rescuer, showing them his jacket he had given to her. She explained how she remembered him fighting, and carrying her home. Greta took the jacket, out turning the pockets. She found stubs from the pawnbrokers, looking at Alexey with a saddened face. He nodded.

"I know little about him. My people only know he is ex-Army. Discharged. Homeless, divorced, abandoned." He looked down at the pawn stubs. "Poor bastard. At least he still has a sense of duty." Alexey looked proud. And then dark. He looked up at Greta. "Paul found out something about a sister..."

Sometimes it irritated Elin that her uncle dealt with private investigators so much. He had been in the army himself, back in the motherland. He had been high up, knew how to find out, and keep, secrets. The bear rose to his feet, clutching the stubs in his hand. "No one will say the Miranovs do not repay kindness. Greta, take Elinor back to our suite. I am going to the pawn shop. And the police station."

The Irish woman nodded. "Make sure he doesn't come into the hotel looking homeless."

Alexey scowled at her. "I know how to do these things, woman."

She scowled right back, standing up. "And use the back entrance. Avoid the photographers for God's sake..."

Alexey left, and Greta lifted a shopping bag with some clothes in it. She helped Elin dress, in a high cowl neck cream jumper, and cream trousers with brown boots. Elin looked at herself, her bruises were angry and purple.

"Now. You look good," Greta said. "Ready?"

Elin nodded, and they headed down to the front door. Aunt Greta on one side, Doctor Barnes on the other, and they chaperoned her into the waiting limo, avoiding all the shouted questions from the reporters. The limo drove them past her apartment, to Alexey and Greta's hotel. The penthouse suite. Maximum security.

Dodging the press was exhausting, and Elin was grateful when they got into the rooms. Greta set about making tea. Elin went into the spare bedroom, pulled a blanket over herself and fell asleep, clutching the faded, dirty jacket in her arms.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Nicholas sat dejected in the squad car as it sped away from the building. He ignored the threats from the officers in the front seats. He just realized who he'd saved. It was the young woman he'd seen in the bar as he'd gone to sleep in the alley. He sighed. Poor kid. He leaned back and closed his eyes. At least the car was warm.

They pulled up to the precinct and he was roughly manhandled out of the car and into a holding pen, after they had searched him and removed all dangerous objects, including his baton. They released him from the handcuffs and shoved him inside. The pen was like a zoo where rank and pecking order was always in contest and Nicholas was challenged when he came inside. The hotheads inside quickly learned to keep their distance. Nicholas kept to himself after the first scuffles. He pondered his outlooks.

The assailant had worn gloves and he'd dropped the knife. His prints would be on her purse but they would hopefully know soon enough the true story. For the time being he was warm and dry. His only real worry was about his backpack He'd left it in the alley eith his clean clothes and toiletries. If he'd lose that he'd really be fucked. But then, he was fucked as it was already. He drifted off to a fitful sleep, interrupted every time one of his fellow inmates moved or talked.

It was in the early morning hours when he was pulled out of the cell and led to an interrogation room. He was sat down at a table and served a cup of coffee which he downed in an instant, although it tasted foul. A baldheaded muscular man entered the room, glaring at Nicholas. He stated his name (Detective Frank Baddeley) Nicholas' full name and the time (05:25), leaving Nicholas in no doubt that the conversations in the room were taped.

Nicholas started by saying that he wanted to make a statement, catching the detective by surprise. Nicholas told the full story from beginning to end: How he'd been disturbed by what he at first thought was an amorous but clumsy couple, how he hadn't started to react until he saw the man striking the woman, and how he'd acted decisively and violently to stop the fedora-wearing man. He gave as good a description as he could, but there wasn't much to go on. He'd never seen his face and it had been too dark to pick up any distinguishing features, except the fact that his arm was broken and that he wore a fedora. He also told of how he tried to keep her warm and carry her to her apartment.

Detective Baddeley's eyes narrowed. "Nicholas McKenzie, there are a few discrepancies here. Mainly, why did she point at you and scream in terror when she was safe!? And why are your prints all over her purse uness you wanted to rob her!?" He slammed his hand on the table. "The girl was beaten and traumatized! She was unable to speak, let alone stand. She had a cut in her head and her wrist was broken! It is my belief that you forced yourself on her, drugged her and robbed her and then wanted to take her to her apartment to have your way with her!" Nicholas just gaped at him. How does his mind work!?

Nicholas pointed out that there was nothing missing from her purse as far as he knew and that there wasn't a drop of blood on his baton. And if they bothered to check the alley near the pawnshop, they'd find his backpack and the knife that mister Fedora had dropped. Baddeley glared at him and asked Nicholas a few more questions. Nicholas was then led back to the holding pen where he drifted off to sleep again.

He slept for several hours and was awoken by a heavily accented loud booming voice assuring someone that his niece could vouch for someone if only they would send someone to question her. The duty sergeant enetered the holding pen area and called out: "McKenzie! Nicholas McKenzie?" Nicholas perked his head up. "Yo!" he called out, and the sergeant opened the pen and told Nicholas to follow him. He was led to the front desk where a barrelchested bear of a man with a booming voice held court, entertaining the throng of officers with what seemed to be an amusing story.

Behind Nicholas' back, the duty sergeant nodded at the big man. His face grew serious and he walked towards Nicholas. Nicholas noticed that the big man was light on his feet, suggesting real power and training. He stopped in front of Nicholas, towering over him. "Nicholas McKenzie. I am Alexey Mironov. My family and I are in your debt." It took Nicholas a few moments to catch on. Then: "Oh. You're Elinor's father? Look, I was happy to help her. I... don't respond well to rapists."

Alexey roared with laughter at that. He grasped Nicholas by the shoulder and pulled him into a hug. "I am not her father, but her uncle. Come, I've paid your bail and my niece wants to meet her saviour. But first I want you to come with me." As an afterthought, he tossed Nicholas' backpack at him before grasping him by the shoulders and all but frogmarched him out of the precinct. A Luxurious car was waiting for them and Nicholas was gently but firmly shoved inside by the friendly russian giant.

As they drove, Alexey started talking to Nicholas like he knew him. He knew OF him, that was for sure. He talked about Nicholas' service in Afghanistan and Iraq, talked about his first combat drop in Afghanistan in november 2001, about the incident that got him fired from the Rangers and the Army. Dear God, he even knew about Erin! He seemed friendly enough, but all his knowledge seemed almost intimidating. They stopped in front of a public bath and Alexey shoved Nicholas inside. After a vigorous shower, Alexey rushed Nicholas to a barber where Nicholas' beard and a good portion of his auburn hair was sheared off, revealing his baby blue eyes again.

Back in the car again, and Nicholas couldn't take it any more. "Please mister Mironov, I get that you're grateful, but this is too much. I-I'm very grateful for all this but-" Alexey held up his hand, silencing Nicholas. "You saved my niece from a predator last night, Nicholas. I will not hear any protests from you for my show of gratitude. For saving Elin, I, we are forever in your debt, Nicholas. Now tell me why you struck your captain. I see here you broke his jaw in two places, Nicholas. Do you box?" Nicholas told him and answered that yes, he'd boxed and wrestled.

They pulled up at a moderately expensive clothes store for men. Nicholas was led inside and Alexey took charge yet again as the staff with obvious distaste helped Nichlas out of his street clothes and into a two piece suit with blue shirt and red tie. Nicholas looked at himself in the full length mirror, barely comprehending what he saw. He looked like a human being again. A human being someone wouldn't cross the street to avoid. A human being someone would address as "Sir" without any trace of sarcasm. Nicholas welled up. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to look like this, to feel like this.

Alexey looked him over and beamed at Nicholas, tastefully not commenting on Nicholas' tearful eyes. Alexey settled the bill and they were off again. On their way to the hotel, Alexey told about his service in Afghanistan. They compared notes on the evolving fighting style of the Mujaheddin and the Taliban and on places they'd visited there. They drove by the front entrance of the hotel, and Nicholas was puzzled about the gaggle of reporters in front of it. He was even more puzzled when they drove around to the back of the hotel and straight into the subterranean garage where burly armed men checked their credentials. Alexey gripped Nicholas around the shoulders. "He's with me!"

They exited the car and went into an elevator that used a long time up. They got out on the top floor and entered a large suite. An attractive blonde middle aged woman stood in the main room, looking out the window. She seemed preoccupied, her mind miles away. She turned as the door closed and looked at Alexey. Then her eyes fell on Nicholas and a comprehending smile filled her face. She had a strict face that melted away as soon as she smiled. "Is this-?" Alexey nodded. She went to Nicholas and took his hands in hers. "This is Nicholas McKenzie, Greta!" Alexey's voice boomed good-naturedly.

She hugged Nicholas. "Thank you, Nicholas!" Nicholas noticed a strong irish accent in the woman. He was at a loss for words. The morning had gone by in a whirlwind of opposing impressions and moods, and he was acutely aware of not having eaten since yesterday. "Don't mention it" he muttered, wanting more than anything to sink into the ground. The attention was almost unsettling. She released him from her hug as a door opened and Baddeley and another detective exited, nodding at Alexey, Greta and Nicholas.

Nicholas heard the sound of soft footfalls and he looked towards the door from which the detectives had emerged. There she was. Her face was bruised and her mouth was conspicuously closed to hide the chipped tooth he knew to be there. The cream coloured pants and sweater only accentuated the vicious bruises and the sling she wore on one arm. Nothing could hide her beauty, though. She had a face like a porcelain doll and her hair cascaded down just past her shoulders in luxurious curls. Nicholas was again at a loss for words as he again beheld Elinor Ilya Mironov.

 

[prettyserpentine]

"Elin? Elinor, sweetheart... The detective is here to see you. Are you feeling up to talking?" The bed bowed under Aunt Greta's weight as she sat on the edge of it, smoothing Elin's hair and rousing her. The painkillers were doing their job a little too well.

Elin sat up, her knees pitching a little tent in the blanket, the bulky cast shifting awkwardly. She smoothed her wild curls down with one hand and nodded. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and Greta gently stroked her cheek, smiling at the pillow marks there, and her flushed skin.

Greta couldn't understand how anyone would want to harm her.

Elin was just sitting up in bed, propped against about four pillows, when Detective Baddeley came quietly into the room. His associate, Detective Wethers, was carrying Elin's bag.

"We just came to return this," Baddeley stated. "And just ask you a few more questions. Just to clarify a man's innocence."

She nodded, curling her legs up as the detective sat down. Wethers placed her purse beside her.

Baddeley was a nice, genial man. "How are you feeling?"

"Just tired. A little sore, but not too much." She didn't know what else to say. She didn't feel clean? All she could smell was breath mints? She couldn't sleep without the light on? Her uncomfortable expression was more answer than she needed to give. Baddeley simply nodded sympathetically.

"The man who brought you back to your apartment...-"

Elin jolted forward. "He wasn't the attacker... He saved me. Gave me his jacket and took me home. He said he broke the man's arm... The man who tried to...tried t-to..."

"It's alright, Miss Mironov... It's alright."

She nodded. They talked a little more about what she remembered. The mints, the fedora, what height he might have been... She shuddered at the thought. Aunt Greta came in, offering the men coffee, as one of Uncle Alexey's associates begged a moment of Elinor's time. She nodded, excusing herself and following the man she knew only as John out into the dining room.

"Miss Mironov, this is everything." He gestured to the table. A few bits of electronics, a laptop, not anything very much, lay on the table. She looked up at him, confused.

"There aren't any keys. Doesn't he have a home?"

John shook his head. "Nope. Sleeps on the streets, miss. Homeless. Divorced. Poor bugger's had a hard time of it."

Elinor ran her hand over his laptop, panicking momentarily as she realised she had left the coat in her bed. Her heart calmed, remembering exactly where it was. It was almost like a security blanket. She knew her blood was on it... It would need dry cleaned. Why hadn't she thought of that? Elinor turned to her Aunt in the doorway.

"Aunt Greta, what can we do? He can't sleep on the street, it isn't right... Can't we help him? I have to repay him...." Her voice started to falter, and John stepped back, almost rigidly. Greta put her hand on her niece's shoulder. She squeezed it supportively.

"You think your uncle won't see to that?" She put a finger under Elin's chin, lifting her face. She softened sadly at the bruises. "My wee bairn, you don't think every time he looks at you he doesn't see Katarina? You are his blood. He will literally rip this town apart to find whoever laid a finger on you." Elin's eyes looked haunted and Greta felt anger rush through her at the sight of her devastated niece. "Your rescuer will be thanked a thousand times, Elin. And it is no less than he deserves." She wiped a tear off Elin's purple cheekbone. "Saints preserve us, you have your mother's eyes. Every bit." She smiled. "Now, we need to get rid of the boys in blue."

Elinor nodded, and turned. She could hear Greta dismissing John and heading out into the main room. Elinor walked into the guest room just as the two detectives were finishing their coffee. She smiled at them pleasantly.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" She sat on the edge of the bed. They stood.

Baddeley set down his coffee cup on the table. "No, Miss Mironov. I think that's everything. Your uncle posted bail on Mr McKenzie this morning."

At the mention of his name, Elin clutched the jacket tightly in her hand. Wethers looked at her warily. She was coping better than he had expected. But it had only been a day. The shock probably hadn't worn off yet, and he expected that alone to take a while.

"Mr McKenzie? Is that his name?" She spoke softly, controlling her voice.

Baddeley nodded. "Nicholas McKenzie, miss."

She nodded. She heard a vibration from her bag, and opened it as the walkie talkie Detective Wethers had started to squeak.

17 missed calls. From Carl, Alfredo and the conductor, Mr Kramer. There were emails too, one from Carl with the front of a newspaper website: WALL STREET HEIRESS ASSAULTED.There was a picture of her being taken into the back of the ambulance. Another headline: MIRONOV DAUGHTER RESCUED BY VAGRANT. The words 'rape' and 'bodily harm' were everywhere. A text from Carl: 'Elin, WTF is going on? Call me ASAP. C'. 'Y hvnt u called? R u ok? C.' 'FFS ELINOR CALL ME!!!!!!!' She shivered, sitting down. Wethers sat down next to her, taking the phone from her hand and switching it off. He looked at her with gentle brown eyes and a smile that assured her he had been doing this job for years. He put the phone into her purse, and lifted his card out, showing it to her before sliding it into the pocket beside the phone.

"You call us, if you remember anything. Or if you need help." He didn't think she would, given the history of her uncle and his connections, but he said it all the same. "And you take care now." He stood up, and Elin followed, pausing by the bed as the two men took their leave.

She could hear commotion in the main room, her uncle's booming voice. And that man's name. Her feet could barely move, and she made it to the doorway. Looking him up and down, dressed in a suit and tie, clean, shaved, and with his hair cut, he was a different man.

But those eyes...

Elinor remembered to exhale, the vision of those eyes looking at her pleadingly from when he had been handcuffed. Her aunt and uncle stood close by. She was breathing a little panicked, forcing herself to walk forward, to face him. He kept looking at her.

She stood before him, extending her hand. "I'm Elinor Mironov, sir." She raised her chin, summoning her inner spirit and looked straight into his blue eyes as she shook his hand. Her own hand was ice cold, but her handshake was moderately firm, her fingers delicate.

She let go, looking behind her to the spare room. His jacket. "I...I have your coat... I can have it cleaned, and returned to you..."

She felt so very awkward, and her uncle could see it. He moved behind Nicholas, throwing open the dining doors and exclaiming: "See what we have found you!! My niece has a good uncle, a prepared uncle!" He was providing a welcome distraction as Elinor had started to shake, moving quickly to the table and holding onto a high backed chair. Greta hovered nearby. Elinor turned to Nicholas, nodding to his meagre belongings. Her hand rested on the laptop.

"Thank you," she said in a still, small voice. "It won't ever be enough... for what you..." She sank into the chair, her elbow on the table, her hand covering her face as she leaned her head down. "...for what you did... stopped..."

Alexey looked helpless, lost for words. Greta was the same. The giant Russian looked at Nicholas, tears in his eyes. Just like the tears he had seen in the young man's when they were in the tailor's, with the suit. There were some things men just couldn't express.

"Thank you," she repeated, in a breath.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

In a few minutes, Nicholas went through a rollercoaster of emotions. He felt almost uncomfortable wearing proper clothes again, unused to looking dapper and having to mind not to touch any dirty surfaces. He was struck by her frail beauty and his first thought was I'll never get a woman like her. Then he chided himself and shamed himself for thinking about her like that when it was less than 24 hours since she... and his thoughts went to Erin.

The last letter he'd gotten from her was bubbling with enthusiasm. She had picked a dress for her date with her boyfriend. (She teased him about her boyfriend, saying it was safe for her to tell about him now that her protective big brother was away to whup Saddam's ass.) She almost casually mentioned that she was to audition for a dancing school before almost exploding with excitement when she told how she might be up for a scholarship and how nervous she was. He read the letter several times, laughing at how she dotted all the t's with little hearts and made every other 'o' a smiley. She did it because he'd told her it annoyed him. But he secretly loved it. She wrote about how their mom was afraid for him even though she pretended not to be. She was glued to the television every evening and shushed everyone when news of Iraq came on.

Several hours later, his father had gotten through on a telephone and told the grim tale of his sister in a coma, her boyfriend dead and five suspects arrested.

Ten years after the fact, what happened to his sister was an open wound, too tender for him to talk about.

He grasped her good hand, astounded at how strong her grip was despite her frail look. "I'm Elinor Miranov, sir." she told him, obviously dealing with conflicting emotions of her own. She started talking about his jacket, offering to have it cleaned. The room grew stale with awkwardness as he was embarassed by that reminder of his real life. She seemed to realize he was ashamed of what he'd become and she in turn seemed saddened by that.

Alexey roared, a welcome distraction. He flung open some doors and revealed all his pawned belongings, including his laptop. His heart leaped. Could it be? They'd bought his items back for him. But that must have cost them close to a thousand dollars! And then she thanked him in that small voice, breaking his heart as he wished he'd been there for his sister the way he'd been there for Elinor.

"I, uh, I'm..."

It was no good. He was on the verge of tears as all the impressions crashed down on him, magnified by a distinct lack of nourishment. He grew lightheaded and his legs started to lightly wobble. He cleared his throat and asked "Could I- could I use the bathroom?" Alexey grasped his shoulder and showed him the way. Nicholas went inside and sat down, surprised still by the absence of foul odours of an unwashed body. His skin felt almost uncomfortably dry and delicate after the vigorous shower. This was too overwhelming and he needed to vent. He wept. He broke down and wept like a child as the impressions of the last day caught up with him. He couldn't rein it in, being treated respectfully was what broke him. He'd gotten used to think of himself as a loser and a bum, a good for nothing wannabe writer that'd be dead before he'd turn 40.

And because of one act of focused anger and violence these people now had done more for him than anyone had done since his sister had been brutally raped and beaten. He composed himself after a few minutes and washed his hands with warm water and soap that smelled heavenly compared to what the Salvation Army had to offer. The towels were of soft cotton and smelled clean. He splashed cold water in his face and dried himself off. He met Alexey who accompanied him back to Elinor and Greta. Alexey was silent but gave Nicholas a knowing look, pity in his eyes.

When he re-entered the room he saw Greta sitting next to Elinor, an arm around her shoulders. He heaved a sigh and looked squarely at them as Alexey discretely and nimbly as a tank moved to the side.

"First of all, let me just say that I'm sorry I didn't intervene sooner. I mistook what was happening and I..." he trailed off, not wanting to say that he'd wanted to watch them from his hideaway like a regular perv.

"I see you've bought out my stuff from the pawnshop and I can only assume that you want to give it back to me as a thank you for what I prevented." His lower lip started shaking as he again was overwhelmed by the kindness they'd shown him. "Especially the laptop means more to me than- than I can say and I-I..." Tears started streaking down his face again and he turned around and hid his face, embarassed by the show of emotions.

His shoulders shaking and his breath ragged and hitching, he managed to say in the weakest of voices: "Thank you so much."

 

[prettyserpentine]

As Nicholas disappeared to the bathroom, Elinor looked up at her aunt. Greta smiled at her and moved next to her, draping her arm around her protectively. She looked over the threads of the young man's bleak life. Elinor found it hard to understand. She had always lived a life of privilege, but her father had made her appreciate it. Her hand lay on top of the laptop.

"Perhaps he is a writer," she surmised. "He seems quite emotional, and has good standards... He is brave, and noble."

Greta nodded. "That he is. We don't know very much about him, unless your uncle knows more."

Elinor looked up, her busted lip glistened a little as she ran her tongue over it to speak. "Do you know much about his sister?"

Greta seemed to frown a little, and then smiled down at her niece. "No."

Elinor noticed how her aunt avoided her gaze, looking towards the door as she heard the sound of running water. A moment or two later, her uncle and Nicholas re-entered the room and Nicholas started to apologise, saying he had mistook what was happening.

"Mistook?" Elinor echoed quietly, looking up at her aunt, whose eyes were downcast. Oh. He thought she had been with that man, maybe a date or a boyfriend. The thought made her skin crawl and she shivered. Then he started thanking them for returning his things. Alexey puffed his chest out.

"That is the least of our thanks, Nicholas!" He stated proudly. "You have saved our niece! Greta and I have no children of our own, and when Elinor's father passed, we took her into our house. She is as my own daughter, the very picture of her mother's grace and beauty!" He looked down at her proudly. Greta squeezed her shoulder. "We could have lost her, if it had not been for you." Alexey's eyes glazed a little.

"We are more than grateful. More than these things can tell you." Greta looked at Nicholas, his head in his hands as he turned away slightly. Her maternal heart ached. "Look son, you won't have to go back to that life. Alexey and I will fix something, it's the least we can do after what you've done."

Alexey moved to his side, knowing the anguish he felt. He lowered his voice, speaking so only Nicholas could hear. His voice was choked a little. "I couldn't save my little sister either..." He squeezed his shoulder. "What you have done... I will never forget it. Not for as long as I draw breath." His voice broke and he cleared his throat loudly, walking to the window and looking out. Greta moved to him, knowing he needed her.

Elinor could hear the small voice thank them, the voice broken with emotion, coming from Nicholas. She stood to her feet, walking across the plush carpet towards him until she stood just behind him. Her shoulders were shaking under the fluffy cream jumper, her casted arm held close to her body. Her shadowy green eyes seemed to accentuate the bruises on her face, her swollen lip. Her tongue gingerly lighted on her broken tooth. How she must look...

She reached out, her hand shaking, her fingers mere inches from the back of his dark, tailored jacket. He must feel so uncomfortable, she thought. She curled her fingers, pulling them back and found herself remembering her parents. She glanced at Alexey and Greta, standing with an arm around each other, silently looking out over the snowy Boston skyline. Her father used to drink bourbon by the fire, standing staring into the flames, thinking. Her mother would practice, dancing in the room he had made especially for her. Sometimes she would dance with Elin. But sometimes he would think so much, so deeply, that he would just stare into the fire for hours. Her mother used to come up behind him, silently, and slip an arm under his, her hand resting on his chest, her forehead against that part between his shoulder blades, and she'd just whisper his name.

Maybe it was to remind him who he was, to bring him back to the present.

Elin looked up at the auburn hair. He was shaking, she wasn't sure if he was crying.

She moved silently, moving her right arm underneath his own right arm. Her hand rested just on his ribs, the breathing centre as her coach always used to say. She found placing her hands there relaxed her, and she applied the slightest of pressures. Her tousled head bowed, her forehead touching the ball of his shoulder. She exhaled, the way she always did before pulling her bow across the strings. Her eyes were closed, and the tears were flowing freely as she spoke, in a heavy Russian accent.

Nikolai...

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Through his tears Nicholas heard their words, adding to his mixed emotions.

You have saved our niece!... when Elinor's father passed... you won't have to go back to that life... I couldn't save my little sister either...

Their words told him of grief unspoken, just as he hadn't ever spoken about Erin. God, Erin. He hadn't seen her for years. After their father killed himself he was the only man she would trust to be alone with and touch her. Once or twice he'd even caught a glimmer of a smile when he'd held her hand and talked to her. But after turning vagrant he'd been too ashamed to visit her. And their mother would know just how miserable his life had turned out if he'd met her.

But the Mironovs were offering him something he hadn't had in years. Hope. But he couldn't accept all this kindness from them. Could he? He would take his equipment and leave. But where would he go? Back to the street? After getting a slight taste of life as a normal person again? That would be cruel. But they offered him an out. But he couldn't. He went back and forth with himself like this, his head almost exploding.

He felt selfish for wanting to accept their offer, yet he hated the thought of having to go back to the street. Back and forth, back and forth his mind went as his crying slowly subsided. And then the most wonderful feeling. Her arm encircled him and her hand rested on his ribs. He felt her shock of curls and her head rest on his shoulder and something inside him melted. He gently placed his hand over hers and pressed them together. She was still cold, and he wanted to just hold her hand and console her and warm her. He wanted to assure her that everything was going to be okay.

And then she whispered Nikolai...

He slowly turned around, surprised that she could bear to be this close to a man after what had happened to her. He was unsure whether she was trying to console him or if she wanted to be consoled by her saviour. Maybe both in equal measure? Remembering only too well the way his sister cringed when strange men tried to touch her, he ever so gently placed a hand on her shoulders and gave her a light hug.

At that moment he heard a soft inhalation from Greta. He looked at her and saw her nudging Alexey, making him turn around. They both looked on as Nicholas and Elinor hugged. Their faces both softened and their eyes started welling up as they watched the display of mutual tenderness between the two young people. Their reaction made Nicholas feel almost accepted. He felt bolder, and he spoke.

"You have done more for me in these past few hours than anyone has done for me since my return from Iraq. Now, you say that I won't have to go back to my life on the streets. I cannot in good conscience accept any more help from you, but if you, Alexey, have work for me in your organization, I would gladly accept working for you as a way to repay your kindness. I believe in working for what I'm given. I get that you're grateful and want to help me, but I have to tell you something. My sister, she... I wasn't there for her when..."

He chided himself. Damn it! Out with it, man! It's been ten years!

"She was brutally assaulted and... the assailants did to her what that miserable piece of shit tried to do to you, Elinor. Pardon my language."

He had felt a surge of anger just then. He composed himself. But for the first time since he'd seen Erin after the assault, he'd felt something other than despair when he thought about her. Was that progress? He looked at Elinor and again felt a pang of sadness.

"I wanted to be there for her, but I was half the world away, on the sharp end of the invasion of Iraq. It felt good to save someone in a similar situation to my sister all those years ago."

Tears ran down his face again. He looked shyly at the three of them, not bothering to hide his feelings again. He felt like he was emerging from a protective shell. It hurt, but it felt perversely good at the same time. It was like waking up after a particularly horrible nightmare.

He only hoped he hadn't gone too far, been too bold in any way.

 

[prettyserpentine]

Catharsis, was the word that ran through Elin's head as she thought on Nicholas' words. Her uncle covered the space between them in three strides. Elin moved to the side, her hand still in his even as Alexey clamped his big arms around the young man in a crushing hug. Greta came, a lot less enthused, as her husband's big broken voice spoke.

"No, Nicholas. You insult us by talking of repayment. You have saved what could have been another victim. You have made your family proud."

Elinor squeezed his hand. He felt warm, and her own fingers were icy cold. Greta put her arms around Alexey and Nicholas, pulling Elinor in too. The two men were overcome with emotion, and Elinor was cocooned by the three of them. She knew it was what her aunt and uncle needed, to feel like they were helping. She knew it had to have been hard for Nicholas. He still held her hand, and she was shaking. Tears fell silently from her face, she couldn't openly cry. Her mind was spinning. In the darkness of her shadowed protectors she could see the front of Nicholas' shirt and tie was wet. It made her think of the blood on his jacket. Greta laid a hand on her head and she flinched, shaking violently. That was the catalyst. She wrenched her hand back, her shoulders almost convulsing.

Elinor pushed away, out of the little circle. Her uncle looked at her, somewhat confused. Greta looked a little more alarmed. The medication was wearing off, and their niece looked like a trapped animal. Her chest was rising and falling, her fingers were twitching. Her head ached, and her breathing shook.

"I have to... I need to go home... I haven't been home. I need to call people." She was backing to the door, going into her room quickly. She rifled through her handbag, slamming the door behind her.

Greta looked up at Alexey. It was clear they had no idea how to deal with this. The bear spoke again.

"We can't let her go home, not yet. Greta, didn't they give you something for her to take?"

Greta lifted a small bottle of pills from her jacket pocket. "Valium, but she wouldn't. She said she needs to deal with it her way."

Alexey took them from her hand, and filled a glass with spring water from the sideboard. "She will take them. She needs to rest, and then you and I will discuss the best way to move forward." He looked grimly at Nicholas before marching to the spare bedroom, leaving Greta and Nicholas alone. She sat down in a chair, sighing heavily.

The bedroom door opened, and Alexey saw Elinor taking a painkiller. Her handbag was packed, and she had one shoe on. He held out the Valium pill. "Take this."

She looked up and shook her head. She was trembling. "I don't need it."

He stepped toward her. Elinor knew better than to argue with him but she wasn't herself. Not at all. "Elinor Ilya Miranov, you will take this because it will help you."

"No!" She bit back, her good fist clenched. "It will make my mind foggy.... Like last night... That's how it makes me feel, uncle!"

He faltered, not knowing what to do, what to say. She was angry. She was allowed to be.

"What happened to his sister, what almost happened to me... He cut my dress open... My, my nylons..." She was shaking again, shaking her head, the curls flying as she tried to forget. "His hand... I don't..." Her mouth filled with saliva and Alexey put the glass down, moving to her as she squeezed her eyes closed. His arms went around her, huge arms and she gagged. "DON'T TOUCH ME!!" Her scream was hysterical.

Greta flinched, standing up. "Shit... Maybe we should call a doctor..."

There were hurried footfalls and Alexey appeared in the doorway. His face was ashen. "I don't know what to do."

The sound of retching, sobbing and vomiting came mutedly from the bathroom.

"She just screamed, and said she was sorry, and then.." He nodded to the bathroom. His uncertain face was dark, filled with anger. "I'm going to kill him." His teeth were gritted.

"No. You aren't. You're going to help her, and we are going to make sure this doesn't happen again to some poor woman," his wife retorted. "We have enough money to help women like Elinor, and Nicholas' sister. It's time we gave something back." Alexey looked up at his strong Amazonian wife with admiration as she headed for the door, closing it.

Greta moved back down the hall, leaving the men to discuss Nicholas' future. She knew Alexey intended to offer him either a job in his security firm, or in one of his boxing clubs. He liked the young man. In truth, so did she. Nicholas reminded her of Alexey when they had met. He'd been fresh out of the soviet army, she had been shipped off to America when the Irish Troubles had been at their peak, and they had fallen in love. But she had never been able to give him children. As she knelt down beside her sobbing, hurting niece, she swore she would do her part to help. Ideas ran through her mind. Counselling services, help for soldiers after the war. Boys like Nicholas. Specialised PTSD services to help victims of violence. She lifted Elinor to her feet and washed her face.

"I'm sorry," Elin whispered as Greta smoothed back her hair.

"Ssh. You need to lie down." Greta spread some toothpaste on a toothbrush and handed it to her niece.

It smelled like breath mints and Elin went into hysterics again.

An hour later, Greta walked back into the dining room where the men remained. She sat down next to her husband.

"How is she?" Alexey asked.

"I got the Valium into her. Managed to get her teeth brushed. The shock seems to have really hit her." Greta sighed, tiredly. "I think we should stay here, until the new year. Until her arm heals, and she is more herself. You can work from here, and I have projects I want to start. It'll be good for us, for her."

Alexey nodded, kissing her on the temple. "You are too much of a woman for me, my love." Greta softened, leaning her head against his.

"And we can set up somewhere for you too, Nicholas. There are apartments vacant in Elin's building, or some in the building where your offices are, Alexey. Plenty of vacant offices too, I can start my ideas there..." She seemed to be thinking out loud. "Respite centers.... We could turn some of them into support homes..." She brought herself back to the world of the present. "So what have you boys been discussing?" A smile, although forced, brightened her face as she thought of all the work she would have to do.

-------------------------

Later that evening...

The sound of room service entering the suite, the smell of hot, delicious food enveloped the rooms.

Elinor slept without dreaming, awakening in the dim light. She got up, her hair mussed from sleep and she took another painkiller. She was hungry, so she stepped out, into the main room where she saw her uncle, aunt and Nicholas watching the TV.

"No one from the family or police have yet made any statement as to the situation. All we know is that a homeless man rescued Elinor Mironov last night from the clutches of a rapist and was taken into custody and then released by security mogul Alexey Mironov. Police suspect the attacker is the same man responsible for other sexual attacks in the greater Boston area. There has been no description of anyone released yet.

Elinor Mironov is the daughter of famed Russian ballerina Katarina Ilya Mironov and Wall Street tycoon Michael Kernshaw. Robbed of her mother in the 9/11 attacks, and her father's alcohol-fuelled death in 2003, Elinor was brought up by her maternal uncle and his wife in our nation's capital. After attending prestigious schools in both Washington DC, New York and St Petersburg, Elinor has achieved great acclaim for her musical ability. We were speaking to her conductor today.

"She's a talented girl. We will see great things from her. Of course, all of us are praying for her recovery and return to us soon. [He looked into the camera] God speed, ma Cherie."

There has been no movement at her apartment, other than friends calling, but no one has heard from her. Here is one of her fellow cellists now! Sir, sir, can we have a moment?

Elin smiled very slightly as Carl and Alfredo were nabbed by the reporter. Carl was more than vocal.

"Yeah you can have a moment. Why don't you piss off and leave her alone? You are vultures, only interested in the sensationalism of her misery... You are nothing but pieces of sh...-" [The camera cuts back to the bar from the previous night as Alfredo yells in Italian, pulling Carl away]

This is the bar where Elinor was last seen before the brutal attack here, in the adjoining alleyway. [The camera pans to the darkened alley, cordoned off with yellow tape] It's thought her rescuer was lying asleep when he was stirred by her screaming during the rape. Elinor flinched, gasping slightly. The owner of this pawnshop told us that he may in fact be an army veteran home from a tour in the Middle East.

More on this story as it unfolds.

"Would you...mind turning that off?" She asked meekly as she picked up a piece of bread, and poured some tea. The lid of the pot clattered as her hands shook. She looked up apologetically.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Nicholas realized a little too late that the group hug was a mistake. When she started pulling away from him he let her go as quickly as possible. Saddened that the spell between them was broken but understanding only too well why she panicked, Nicholas could only watch in frustration as she withdrew from them, panic apparent in her eyes.

As Alexey went after Elinor an awkward silence descended. Nicholas was quietly contemplating gathering his belongings and leaving, but then Greta broke the silence:

"Your sister, Nicholas. How did she cope? How is she today?"

Nicholas shook his head sadly. There was a silent prayer in those questions. Nicholas couldn't lie to her.

"She was raped and beaten and left for dead after they killed her boyfriend when he tried to protect her. There were five assailants. College frat boys that got off lightly because of technicalities and expensive lawyers."

Greta's eyes closed as tears ran down her cheeks. Nicholas found he could retell the awful story without tearing up. He was unsure whether that was a good or bad thing.

"She is alive and physically okay, but she hasn't spoken since the assault. She screams at night and I'm the only man she accepts touching her."

Greta stared at him intently and she was just about to reply when they heard Elinor scream, a primal panicked command: "DON'T TOUCH ME!!"

Greta stood up and composed herself, galvanized in a heartbeat.

"Shit... Maybe we should call a doctor..."

Alexey appeared, overcome with frustration. He expressed his helplessness and anger and Greta's face grew more and more determined until Nicholas couldn't decide which person was the fiercer of Alexey and Greta. He was filled with admiration for Elinor's aunt as she set out to help her niece. Alexey stood in the room, his head bowed and his shoulders shaking. Nicholas went to him, knowing the frustration he felt. He placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Mister Mironov, I-"

That was as far as he got before being pulled into another bearhug by the big and powerful man. "Alexey. Do not ever call me Mister Mironov, Nicholas!" The big man broke down and cried and Nicholas could only stand there and console him as best he could. In a little while Alexey pulled away and composed himself. He apologized and Nicholas waved the apology away. He understood.

After a few minutes Alexey was himself again and all business. He started an impromptu interview where Nicholas had to go into painful detail about the incident that got him fired and why he'd assessed the situation differently than his commander. As Nicholas explained about the terrorist hunt turned massacre of civilians, Alexey's face grew grave. By the end of the tale he just nodded and told Nicholas: "I would have killed your commander. I deserted from Spetsnaz when they ordered us to wipe out a village of mujaheddin sympathizers."

Alexey threw it out there almost casually. Nicholas could definitely sympathize, and he understood the russian giant a little better now. His confession made it easier for Nicholas to accept a job in the security firm, seeing as the CEO had a strong ethos about uninhibited violence.

Alexey asked Nicholas about Erin as well, and Nicholas found he could talk as calmly about it as he'd done with Greta. By the end of the tale Alexey was on the verge of tears again. Nicholas fired up his laptop and showed films and pictures of Erin before the assault. It was hard to watch for both men, knowing what fate had in store for the beautiful redhaired young woman on the pictures and in the films.

Nicholas quickly shut down his laptop again, relishing the feel of his most prized posession in his hands. He looked at Alexey with gratitude and Alexey just nodded and waved him off. He knew and he understood.

Greta returned and outlined her vision of doing something for women and men with PTSD. He was awestruck by the couple. They were both forces to be reckoned with. Together they were unstoppable. He felt a pang as he wished his parents could've been more like them, but that was just ridiculous of him. People are who they are and sometimes strong personalities create a blinding synergistic effect the likes of which few are lucky enough to experience. Nicholas counted himself as very lucky indeed to have been in a position to help Elinor for countless reasons.

Alexey told Greta hoe he'd decided that Nicholas should start as a watch supervisor, taking Nicholas by surprise. He opened his mouth to protest, to say that he wasn't ready for a managerial job but Alexey shushed him. "Show me some of that judgement you showed in Iraq and you will do fine, Nicholas. No more protests. I won't hear them!" There was steel in Alexey's voice now and Nicholas nodded, thankful beyond words.

They agreed on a bachelor's apartment in the same building Elinor lived in. Given the wages he would receive from his new job, he could afford it. Nicholas' head swam. An apartment. A well paying job. Just like that. He stood up to grasp Alexey's hand and promptly fainted, the lack of food and the emotional turmoil finally taking its toll.

He awoke to hear Greta scolding Alexey.

"You didn't feed the poor boy!? Alexey Mironov, you are the most thoughtless oaf I've ever known, so help me!" Nicholas sat up gingerly and she turned towards him, anger and worry mixed in her voice. "Why didn't you tell me you hadn't eaten today, Nicholas? You men are so stubbornly proud sometimes I swear the good lord have put you here to test us women!"

Muttering under her breath she rang room service and ordered food, waving away Nicholas' protests that he was fine. He was brought a light dish that seemed to fill his stomach in record time. He grew sleepy after eating, his body using every available resource to process the food. He fell asleep sitting upright and awoke several hours later on the couch, a blanket draped over him. He'd fallen asleep feeling safe for the first time since ever and his body had to catch up with lost sleep.

He awoke as Greta again ordered room service and his stomach grumbled in response, loud enough to elicit a smile from Greta as she with a small laugh told room service: "Better make that a double order."

The food arrived and Greta and Alexey told Nicholas to dig in and recommended dishes he should try. Nicholas was overwhelmed yet again by their kindness and he could only thank them again for all their kindness. They sat down to watch the news.

The newscast told Nicholas all he needed to know about her parents. He had a living mother that wouldn't speak to him and a father who'd committed suicide. To lose both parents in such a short space of time...

She was strong to have endured such a loss, loving relatives or not. He laughed when Carl poured out his venom towards the reporters. He instinctively liked Carl for being so protective of her. He had a vague recollection of seeing him through the window that fateful evening. God, it was only yesterday!

Elinor's soft voice broke the spell of the newscast. Her hands were shaking so bad the lid on the teapot started clattering. Nicholas stood up and walked towards her. He stopped a few meters away from her and extended his hand.

"Let me pour the tea for you, Elinor. There's a question you'll have to learn to endure the next few days, so I'll spring it on you now: How are you? You'll grow sick and tired of people asking you that, not least because most people will ask that more to comfort themselves than to know how you really are. Get used to it. I know I had to. But your aunt and uncle and your closest friends will genuinely care. As- as will I."

Why had he said that?

She looked sleepy and upset,. Her emotions were probably still raw after what had happened to her less than 24 hours ago.

"Now, I haven't been through the same experience as you, only the same incident. If you want to ask me anything, if you want to yell or pour your heart out, please feel free." This he said in a low tone of voice.

He gave her a shy smile. He truly, genuinely wanted to be there for her.

 

[prettyserpentine]

As Nicholas poured the tea for her, he talked. Elin did her best to concentrate, focusing on the movement of his lips. She heard his words and felt the meaning and genuine sentiment behind them. She sipped on the tea, she felt discombobulated. Her hands started to steady once she had some of the warm tea in her, and had managed to eat half of a sandwich.

"I... I think I'd like to sit down," she said as she moved to the couch. Her aunt sat at one end, looking at her with a supportive smile.

That's all everyone had. Supportive smiles. Kind words. It frustrated her. She sat on the opposite end of the couch, tightly against the side, holding her teacup. She smiled back forcibly.

"How are you feeling?"

Elinor heard the question. The same one Nicholas had told her. She couldn't stop a bubble of sardonic laughter that seemed to slowly uncoil from her lips. Greta looked at her in surprise, her expression unsure.

"I feel a little bit clearer. The sleep was good, I feel like I'm ... coming back." She frowned, closing her eyes. "I feel... Itchy. Like I can't be clean, I just... can't explain it. I feel bad, because I'm a lot better off than..." She glanced at Nicholas' shoes. His sister. "...some people. I feel a little uneven. Like one moment I feel alright, and the next..." She shook her tousled head, raising her cup to her lips and taking a drink. That felt better. The painkiller was starting to work and she relaxed, her straight spine finally leaning back against the cushions, her fingers ceasing their twitching. "I could use a drink." She smiled, the breath of a laugh on her tongue as her eyes opened.

Alexey immediately recognised his niece, and his throat choked up. She was still in there, but she was expertly practising the stoic family trait of walling up her pain. He stood, heading for the decanter of whiskey. He poured four glasses, making sure that Elinor's was the smallest measure, and returned, handing a double serving to Nicholas and Greta, then his own, and his niece's. He never uttered a word.

She looked up at him, her bruises sharp, and she smiled. Her chipped tooth, and as his eyes lighted on it she put a hand up to shield it. "I'm sorry, uncle. You must have been so worried..."

Finally she felt a little clearer. She drank a little of the whiskey and felt it burn down into her belly. She sighed, leaning her mop of curls back, holding the crystal tumbler against her stomach. Her eyes blinked frantically, tears rolling every few minutes. But she never uttered a cry. Just breathed steadily. Greta looked between Alexey and Nicholas.

It was like no one knew what to say. They all looked at her like a broken doll. She couldn't help but think of her parents, and how much she wished they were there. How much she missed them. Her brow started to crease, her chin puckered. She downed the rest of the whiskey and let the glass sit on the arm of the chair. Nicholas was still standing beside her chair like he was waiting.

As if starting inane conversation, Greta started to explain what was happening, how they were moving forward. Her plans to use the building Uncle Alexey owned a few blocks from her apartment. It was a good idea. She went on about how they were taking on Nicholas as a watch manager, and were setting him up in an apartment in her building. But for tonight, he would stay there with them. She opened her eyes, looking up at him.

"So we shall be neighbours then." She closed her eyes again. It would be good, she supposed. She felt safe at the thought of a trained soldier close by. In case... Her eyes flew open again. "Are you moving in... In case... In case he comes back?" She felt her chest tighten, the panic rising in her voice. She stood to her feet, her belly warm from the alcohol. She felt a little sick. She looked at Alexey. "Do you think he will come back?! Oh my god ohmygod..." Her hand moved down to her thighs, her fist clenching and unclenching over her privates. She started to speak, garbled, jumbled words, her pitch rising.

Greta stood. "No, Elinor. Be calm. Breathe. You are safe." She spoke in a soft, calming tone. Her voice was low.

Elin's chest rose and fell, she put a hand out and gripped the front of Nicholas' shirt, staring at her hand. Some of her nails were chipped and her arm twitched. Her eyes rose, her tear-spilling emerald gaze staring into his baby blue eyes, tortured. What had he seen too? She blinked a few times, holding onto him.

"Ssssafe." She laughed again, and it sounded bitter. Anger, revulsion, fear and pain coursed through her. She looked at him, her mouth open, the chipped tooth on display. She wanted to scream, yell, pour her heart out, but she just kept looking between her hand and his blue eyes. So clear, so true. "I want my mother..." she said, in the smallest, most pathetic voice. Her fingers gripped the shirt harder, popping off a button. Her knuckles went white.

Greta looked at Alexey, panicked. He moved closer, as Elinor turned her battered face, Katarina's green eyes staring right at him, flickering between the three people around her. "I want my mother... I didn't do anything wrong... Why...why did he..." Her casted hand moved down between her legs again, rubbing at her thigh. Alexey could see the crumbling walls in her eyes as her face screwed up, tears taking no time in coursing down her face. She started to cry as her knees buckled and Alexey was on the floor, holding her, one hand gently moving the cast away from her thigh. Nicholas was kneeling too, his hands holding onto hers as she gripped his shirt. She sobbed huge, cathartic sobs, her body wracking with them as she tried to speak but the words were lost. Her fingers ached, and as she let go of his shirt, Nicholas held his hands out, and she gripped them, holding onto him as she cried against Alexey.

The Russian bear looked heavenward, his eyes glistening as he felt Greta put her hands on his shoulders. He drew strength from having her near and he looked into the eyes of the man who had saved the only daughter he ever knew. He recognised that look, protection and rage. He felt hatred for who had done this, and could only imagine the depth of anger Nicholas had felt. They had both lost a sister to violence. As Alexey held his sobbing niece, he gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw jumping. He looked down at Elinor's hand, her scraped olive skin, the white knuckles holding onto Nicholas. His chest heaved, and Greta squeezed his shoulders. He kissed the top of Elinor's head as her emotions broke through her.

He wanted to tell her no one would ever hurt her again, but that was a promise he could never keep. But by putting Nicholas into her building, it was a step towards ensuring her safety. He would keep her under surveillance. Until the bastard was caught.

Elinor cried and cried, until her voice was hoarse and all her tears were spent. Alexey didn't budge until he felt her rest against him completely, and the rise and fall of her shoulders in sleep. He lifted her, her hand still gripping Nicholas'. Awkwardly, Alexey carried her to bed. As he looked down, he noticed the jacket she hadn't been able to part from. It lay on the bed, spread out. She had been sleeping in it. He knelt on the bed, laying her down in the battered old piece of clothing, and she buried her face in it, her fingers finally letting go. Alexey glanced behind him as he left the room, knowing Nicholas would follow.

Greta was pouring what seemed like triple doses of whiskey into three glasses. Alexey downed his, and poured another. He left Nicholas' by the decanter, listening to him walk across the floor and lift it eventually.

"God save us," Greta said, sinking into the sofa. "I never dreamed I'd be waking up to this. I hope you're alright," she said looking at Nicholas.

---------------------

It was four am when Elinor awoke to the sound of her own screaming. She sat up, switched on the light and took another painkiller. Safe in the knowledge that her aunt and uncle slept on the other side of the suite, she got up, walked out into the main room and poured herself a glass of whiskey. A big one. One that might help her get back to sleep.

She had dreamed that she had felt his hand on her, there. The smell of those mints. Her hand shook as she took a drink, trying to steady her breathing. She looked at herself in the window. Her leggings were gone, her long cream jumper hanging to just above her knees. Her feet were bare, barely visible in the carpet. Her cast. Her messy hair. Her purple bruises on her face, her neck, her shoulder. She saw her eyes spill with tears again. The glass in her hand.

The worn, dusty jacket she had clutched to her, the fingers peeking out from the cast holding it.

"Look at me..." She whimpered. She looked out over the snowy Boston skyline, noticing a shape in the reflection of the window. Someone was behind her. She looked at the reflection and took another drink. "I had a bad dream..."

 

[Niceandbrutal]

It was painfully obvious to all three that she was barely hanging on, trying to keep her facade intact in front of them. The more she tried to act normal and carefree, the more obvious it became that a breakdown was imminent. The way she described her feelings and the way she laughed at her aunts question told Nicholas she was on the verge of a collapse. He didn't want to interrupt the process, she needed to vent. This was good. She was starting to cope.

Alexey brought them all some whiskey and Nicholas discretely didn't touch his. He'd grown too accustomed to drinking himself to sleep as a vagrant and he was afraid of turning into a full blown alcoholic. Besides, he was more relaxed than he'd been for years. He felt safe and accepted with the Mironovs, a feeling so wonderful that he didn't want to cheapen it by drinking. Tears started rolling down her cheeks as the whiskey started to work. Nicholas watched her intently.

Come on Elinor, let it all out! We're here for you but we can't push you into this. Scream to high heaven of the injustice you've been subjected to, sweetheart. He was silently cheering for her.

Greta looked worried and looked like she wanted to say something. Nicholas sent her a look as if to say let her work this out on her own. She needs to do this. For whatever reason, Greta stayed silent until Elinor's face started scrunching up. She started panicking when the fear of her assailant burned through her defenses like a white hot iron. She seized Nicholas' shirt with an iron grip and almost pleaded for her mother. That was when Nicholas started to tear up again. He was reminded of what one of the nurses told him about Erin before they put her in a coma. I want my big brother she had whimpered, although out of it after what she'd been through. Tears started rolling down his face as she was hugged by her uncle and gripped his hands.

"I didn't do anything wrong... Why...why did he..."

Nicholas whispered to her then. "He did it because he's a despicable man with no regard for other people. He doesn't care if he destroys someone as long as he gets what he wants. He's a monster, a despicable foul excuse of a man. This is not your fault. You did not deserve this. Don't let him win. Fight through this, Elinor!" The last sentence a plea. He did not want her destroyed because a foul cockroach of a man lusted after her.

Alexey and Nicholas exchanged glances and he knew they both thought the same thing: God help that man if we ever get our hands on him. Because no power on this earth will stop us if we do.

They stood there and let her drain herself of emotions until she fell asleep. When she snuggled up to his old jacket in her sleep, Nicholas knew he couldn't in good conscience ask to get it back. She seemed to feel safe with the jacket, something Nicholas found more than a little touching. He watched her for a moment in her sleep. She looked peaceful snuggled up to his old jacket. He slowly moved out of her room.

Nicholas declined the whiskey offered him. "I never dreamed I'd be waking up to this. I hope you're alright," Greta said. Nicholas looked at her and gave her a shy smile.

"I'm starting to cope with a few things of my own that I've left to stew in the recesses of my mind. I haven't seen my sister in years because I was ashamed of my life as a vagrant. I put a lid on my feelings, and they've come to a fore today with all that has happened. So I am in a turmoil, but I am grateful, more than anything. Grateful that I was there to stop the assault, grateful that you bailed me and dressed me and treated me like a human being, grateful for all you have offered me. I'm just sorry it had to be under these circumstances.

I feel like I'm gaining something from your niece's misery, and a part of me feels that it's wrong. But I was on the verge of suicide only last night, and you pulled me away and gave me a reason to go on. I will do all in my power to help Elinor any way I can. I feel I owe her as much. And you. I saved her and you in turn have saved me."

Nicholas felt drained after that little speech. Alexey and Greta looked bushed too. It had been a day of contrasting and conflicting emotions for them all, and they soon all wandered off to sleep. Nicholas relished the feel of clean linens and a soft mattress as he lay down to sleep. Sleep came quickly.

It was his first combat drop, the start of the invasion of Afghanistan. The wind ripped through their aircraft as they jumped into the night to secure an airfield. They landed and came under fire. One of the troopers got hit and screamed and screamed and screamed...

Nicholas woke up. The screams were from a woman. Where was he? Elinor? Elinor. Elinor! She was screaming. Addled by sleep, he got up. He put an undershirt, panties and trousers on. By the time he was dressed, the screams had stopped. He could hear someone moving in the living room. He got up to investigate.

It was Elinor, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his worn old jacket in the other. She had really grown attached to that beat up old thing. "Look at me. I had a bad dream."

Nicholas cleared his throat. She didn't jump. She must have seen him reflected in the window. He walked up to her but kept a respectful distance. He nodded at the glass in her hands.

"I pray you only regard that as a short-term solution. People start to get used to alcohol and pills to cope and it's a slippery slope. I was on the brink of full blown alcoholism because I really didn't give a damn whether I lived or died anymore. You have a rough time ahead of you. Believe me. But you'll be better able to cope with a clear head. Now, if you want to talk I will listen. If you want to scream, I will be your sounding board. If you want to hit someone... well, just avoid the face and my privates. Or get a punching bag. But please, don't disappear inside a bottle like I almost did. Fight through this. Please."

The pleading was back in his voice. He didn't want him rescuing her to be for nothing.

 

[prettyserpentine]

Elinor sipped the rest of her whiskey and listened to him. The pleading edge in his voice made her heart ache. She felt raw, exposed. He had seen something almost happen to her that was so inherently personal, she felt strange when he was around. He wasn't disgusted, he wasn't overly encroaching on her space. He was just... there.

"I don't want to die..." Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw. She turned to look at him, setting the empty glass down. "And that isn't my solution. I watched my father fall into a whiskey bottle after Mother died. That isn't exactly my idea of dealing with this." She turned, looking out the window again as the snow fell. "He just fell apart. He couldn't cope without her, couldn't work, couldn't... be." She sighed, hugging the jacket against her chest. "I'm stronger than that."

Elinor moved to the armchair, perching on the overstuffed arm. She looked up at Nicholas. The moonlight illuminated his blue eyes, and made them both look white and ethereal. She smiled at him. She felt so much calmer, here. No bright lights, no noise, just the snow, the silence, and them.

"Thank you for being here. I know this can't be easy for you, but I'm glad you're coping. I'm glad you're here." She blinked, wiping a tear from her face, her knuckles straining as she held the jacket. Suddenly, she looked down, and held it out to him. "Your jacket... I'm sorry I've held onto it for so long, I guess it was just some kind of comfort thing." She moved to him gracefully, holding it out.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

"I don't want to die..."

Spoken with a hoarse and raspy voice after all the screaming and crying she'd done in the last 24 hours, it was still the most beautiful thing he'd heard in a long while. He had tears in his eyes as he answered her:

"I'm glad to hear you say that. More than you might imagine."

His sister had tried ending her life when she woke up of her induced coma. They'd had her on suicide watch for almost a year. She'd stopped attempting suicide after he came home and visited her. The nurses told him he was the first to talk to her like a real person and not some broken china doll. By then he'd seen enough trauma to know that coddling the ones afflicted by it was an insult and counterproductive.

"And that isn't my solution. I watched my father fall into a whiskey bottle after Mother died. That isn't exactly my idea of dealing with this. He just fell apart. He couldn't cope without her, couldn't work, couldn't... be. I'm stronger than that."

"I believe you ARE stronger than that, Elinor Ilya Mironov. You've already impressed me with your strength and poise. Now, you might not feel that you have demonstrated much strength today? Believe me when I say that you have. Real strength lies in admitting to your weaknesses and to allow yourself to show vulnerability among people you trust."

He paused, a realization hitting him.

"That has been one of many mistakes I've made, and you've helped me see this. Thank you."

He looked into those beautiful green eyes of hers as a smile crept over her lips. It was a beautiful smile no bruises and chipped teeth could mar or diminish.

"Thank you for being here. I know this can't be easy for you, but I'm glad you're coping. I'm glad you're here."

He grew thoughtful. This HADN'T been easy for him. The assault had dredged up painful memories and reactions he'd tried to suppress. He'd done what he'd adviced traumatised soldiers NOT to do. Do what I say, don't do what I do. The thought ran quickly through his head and he almost laughed at the almost obscene hypocritical notion that had just about destroyed him.

She was fidgeting with his beat up old jacket, then:

"Your jacket... I'm sorry I've held onto it for so long, I guess it was just some kind of comfort thing."

His jacket. On cold nights it had been his lifeline along with his sleeping bag. He could have it cleaned and hang it up as a reminder of what he'd almost done to himself or he could let her have it as a memento of a complete stranger caring enough for her to intervene on her behalf. Or...

"I don't need the jacket any more. All it reminds me of is miserable cold nights and a daily primal struggle for survival. If it gives you comfort, by all means hang on to it. If it serves as a reminder of what happened to you, I suggest we throw it away and start with clean slates."

He slumped down on the armrest of another chair, looking at her. He was acutely aware of how close she was and how vulnerable she looked with the jumper reaching to just above her knees. He didn't want to seem imposing to her, and he had noticed Mr Fedora was about the same height as he was.

He looked up at her, blue eyes making contact with green eyes. "I told your aunt and uncle that you've saved me as sure as I saved you. I get that you feel indebted to me, but I also feel indebted to you. I can only repeat to you what I told Greta and Alexey: I will do all in my power I can to help you."

 

[prettyserpentine]

Elinor smiled at him, before rising up from her armrest, and draping the jacket next to him. "Then let it go. Your life is changed now, it won't ever be like it was before. It'll be new." She forced a smile. "Like mine. We change, and we adapt, and we deal."

She stroked her hand along the jacket. "I don't need it to remind me of what you saved me from. I will be reminded of it every time I see you, I'll be thankful every moment I get the chance to tell you." She smiled at him, a small, tearful smile, but a smile nonetheless. She sat down, opposite him and pulled her jumper down over her knees, leaning back on the cushions of the sofa.

"You don't have to feel indebted to us. I'm just sorry that you have had such a hard life. I hope it changes." She pulled her knees up under herself. "It's funny how big things like this always change things so much. My aunt and uncle haven't been to Boston in a couple of years. They like DC, and it's where Uncle Alexey has his main offices. But I'm sure he told you all that. He knows quite a lot." She smiled to herself. "I'm going to the dentist tomorrow to get my tooth fixed." Her lips drew back as she touched the sharp edge of her tooth. "Aunt Greta has a meeting with some charity people while I'm there, and then I think Uncle Alexey is taking you to show you your new apartment."

Elinor fiddled with her sleeve. "It's right under mine. I have the top floor. It used to be Greta's but my father bought it when she married my uncle. He rented it out, and then the occupants moved a couple of years ago. I got back from St Petersburg and had it renovated. It's a little big, but I try and utilise the space. I only need my room, the living area, and I have one room for my practising. There's a gym, and two spared rooms. And the bathroom, I love my bathroom." She looked up. "There's a nice rooftop garden, I could show it to you... I grow some vegetables, things... And there's a pool. I like to swim. You could use it too if you like." She knew Alexey would end up making sure Nicholas had a master key. Protection was always at the forefront of his mind.

Elinor looked small against the large pillows. Her voice seemed to shrink. "I don't know what way I will feel tomorrow... It worries me. I feel better, safer...." She looked up at him. "...when..." When he was there.

But she couldn't say it.

"I'm rambling. I should go to bed." She extended her legs and stood, moving around behind where he sat. So stoic, so careful. She admired him. The way he was so respectful of her. She slid her arm under his again, pressed against his ribs and touched her forehead to that place between his shoulders.

"Thank you, Nikolai..."

She smiled, padding off to bed after a lingering moment.

"Goodnight."

The door clicked shut behind her.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

"Then let it go. Your life is changed now, it won't ever be like it was before. It'll be new. Like mine. We change, and we adapt, and we deal. I don't need it to remind me of what you saved me from. I will be reminded of it every time I see you, I'll be thankful every moment I get the chance to tell you."

Nicholas promptly balled the jacket together and tossed it in a paperbin. He looked at her and was glad to see a small smile behind her tears. He tried not ogling her when she sat down and pulled her sweater over her knees. She was undeniably attractive, but he couldn't start thinking about her like that. Leaving aside what had just happened to her, she was out of his league, despite him being offered a well paid job and an apartment below hers.

"You don't have to feel indebted to us. I'm just sorry that you have had such a hard life. I hope it changes."

Nicholas could only nod. "I know it will. I will not squander your generous rewards, Elinor. It'd be an insult to you and an injustice to myself. I'm better than that, but it took an incident like yesterday's to show me that. Most important, now I can visit my sister again without being ashamed of who I am and what I've become. For that I truly can't thank you enough."

He lost himself in her voice a little when she started talking about the plans for tomorrow. She had a pleasant voice with an endearing accent, and he couldn't help but wonder if the accent got stronger when she got angry or jubilantly happy. Her apartment sounded nice.

"I would love to see your rooftop garden and your pool when we become neighbours. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'll be living in an apartment when it was only yesterday I was jubilant to find a cardboard box large enough to fit me. It'll take some getting used to, I think. But I managed getting used to living on the street, so I'll manage to get used to that, I think."

An almost puzzled smile graced his face as he again realized he didn't have to go back to living on the street. He knew he wouldn't believe it until Alexey showed him the apartment and told him "This is your apartment." And even then he'd have to adjust for a couple of months. But he'd cope, he thought to himself, smiling still. Her tone changed, bringing him out of his reverie.

"I don't know what way I will feel tomorrow... It worries me. I feel better, safer...." she paused to look at him "...when..."

She left the words hanging in the air, pregnant with things unsaid. Nicholas caught a quick look of... something in her eyes then, something that gave him pause.

"Only remember that however you feel tomorrow is valid. If you're happy, be happy. Don't chide yourself because you believe you should feel traumatized and sad. If you do feel sad or upset, don't chastise yourself and tell yourself that you should be glad to be alive. Your emotions will be like a rollercoaster the next few weeks. As a medic I often had to debrief fellow soldiers after fights, and I've been stressed out after combat myself. Your feelings are your own and they are valid, no matter how you feel. People laugh in funerals and weep with joy. If you feel you're having inappropriate feelings, don't. Your mind has its own ways of coping."

She told him she was rambling, but he could give her fierce competition there, he felt. He looked away as she stretched her graceful legs again, always conscious of not making her uncomfortable with his admiring stare.

She went around him and gave him a hug like the one she'd given him earlier that day. Something in his heart awoke then, something he hadn't felt in a long time. They way she made his name sound russian was a sweet gesture on her part and he couldn't help but smile and squeeze her soft hand a little. It was warmer now, he noticed. He resisted the temptation to lift her hand and kiss it, he just held his hand over hers and enjoyed the contact with her. When her hand slipped away he lifted his own hand away. She retreated into her bedroom and he stole a glance of her in her long sweater with those long and graceful legs as she shut the door behind her.

"Good night" he whispered after her. He sat for a long time in the chair, pondering. He needed to pull back and take stock of all the conflicting emotions inside of him. Adding a romantic interest in the sweet girl he'd rescued was a complication he frankly could do without. As could she, more than likely. His reverie was interrupted by a loud cough as Alexey stood next to him.

He hadn't heard the giant man enter the room and he wasn't sure how long he'd been there. "Damn Alexey, I'm glad we never fought each other. You are one sneaky man!" Alexey beamed at the backhanded compliment and sat down opposite Nicholas, where she had sat only a little while ago.

"It's hard to get back to sleep when awoken by screams, Nicholas. But you know this already. I overheard part of your conversation. I am glad you are here. My niece has taken to you, it seems. And you give her good advice. Of course, we debriefed with vodka and rigorous work in Afghanistan. That could sometimes help, but my niece is not Spetsnaz. She is a delicate but strong woman, like my sister. What is the saying? Different strokes for different folks? There is truth in this."

Alexey smiled at Nicholas, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes, like he knew of some secret Nicholas wasn't in on yet. The moment passed and they started swapping stories over coffee, seeing as neither of them could sleep. It was a hushed conversation that covered battles and matches fought. Nicholas was sure he didn't want to engage the russian in any form of combat. He was formidable.

Time passed and it started growing less dark outside. Greta entered and helped herself to some coffee. She would follow Elinor to the dentist and then meet and greet and start setting up new charities. Nicholas grew fascinated by the strong woman outlining her plan of battle and he wondered again who the fiercest of the two was, Greta or Alexey.

As Greta ordered breakfast, they heard Elinor stir in her room. Nicholas excused himself and went to the bath to have a shower and to get dressed. He wanted to look his best for her.

 

[prettyserpentine]

It took Elinor a good ten minutes to convince herself to get out of bed. When she did, she drew a bath, and Aunt Greta helped her to wash her hair. She used the lily scented shampoo and oil. Elinor was fastidious about her hair. Girls with curls are my world, her father used to say. Katarina had a head of dark curls too. Elinor washed herself and Greta surrounded her in a fluffy bathrobe while she helped her with her hair. It was shortish, depending on how tight the curls fell. Today they hung just above her shoulder. She kept them loose, not pinning them back so they hung naturally.

Greta twisted a curl and smiled into the mirror at Elin. "Beautiful. Do you need me for anything else, darling?"

Elinor took a deep breath and nodded. "Could you help me put on some makeup?"

"You want to cover up the marks?"

Elin took a moment to answer, her eyes spilling over again. She shook her head. "I don't have anything to be ashamed of. I just want to look a little more like me." She lifted her chin, defiance in her set jaw.

Greta traced her hand down her cheek. "I'll get my bag." She waited until she had closed the bedroom door behind her before she broke down. Passing through the living room, she explained to Alexey and Nicholas why she was upset.

Alexey puffed his chest, proud with emotion. "She is full of strength. I don't know where she draws it from."

Back in her bedroom, Elin put her hand in the bathrobe pocket, pulling out a receipt. Laptop. $600. Account settled. Riley's Pawnbrokers. She smiled, folding it again and tucking it into her purse. That account was far from settled. But she would see to it.

Greta came back a moment later, and managed to hold herself together long enough to help apply Elin's makeup. The two women laughed as Elin said to make sure she used waterproof mascara. She made up her eyes, dark eyeliner and smoky eyeshadow. And the waterproof mascara. It hurt Elin to put any foundation of blusher on, and Greta took great care putting on a light coloured lipstick. Elin looked up at her with sympathetic eyes. She lifted her good hand, brushing her aunt's cheek.

"You need waterproof makeup too," she smiled and Greta merely shook her head.

"Do you need help getting dressed?"

Elin shook her head. "I can manage. Thank you. I'll come out for breakfast in a few minutes."

Greta headed for the door. Elinor rose up, putting a hand on her arm. Greta paused carefully, as Elinor kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Aunt Greta. For everything." Greta smiled at her, and told her in a choked tone her pancakes would get cold, before slipping out into the main room again.

She barely noticed the two men at the dining table. Suited and cleaned, looking moderately rested, she joined them as they started to eat breakfast. The conversation was becoming easier, less strained, less worried. Elinor was finding her feet.

A few moments later, she walked into the room. She wore a soft lilac blouse, with a high lacy collar that accentuated her slender neck and collarbone. The floaty material hung down past her hips. The sleeves were long, and the cuffs were the same lace as her collar. She wore white trousers that hung straight around the curved toes of her dark purple kitten heels. The high collar and long sleeves hid the marks on her neck and arms, but it made her look professional, well-cut. She set her purse on the chair next to where she sat, looking at her aunt's proud face, the open-mouthed astonishment of her uncle. She walked like she was carrying a glass jar of sand inside her.

"It matches the bruises, doesn't it.... I should change..."

 

[Niceandbrutal]

When Nicholas emerged from the bath after a long and luxuriously warm shower, breakfast had arrived. Alexey sat alone and ate with a hearty apetite and Nicholas joined him. "Greta is helping Elin do her morning toilet. They shouldn't-"

The door opened and Greta emerged. She was crying.

"She says she wants to put on make-up to look a little more like herself. You should have seen her Alexey. She told me she had nothing to be ashamed of. There was that stubborn look to her as she told me this, you know the one. Just like Katarina when she'd made her mind up."

Alexey's voice boomed with goodnatured pride: "She is full of strength. I don't know where she draws it from."

She sniffed. "Sometimes she's the spitting image of your sister, Alexey." And you she added for herself.

Nicholas chimed in. "I- we talked tonight. I sense real strength in her. She's a tough one, your niece. I think she will be okay, given time." Alexey and Greta exchanged a quick glance and a smile. Greta disappeared with her make-up bag. After a short while they heard laughter from the two women. Nicholas smiled in relief. It was a delightful sound that brought a twinkle back in Alexey's eyes. The food suddenly tasted a little better. Life seemed a little brighter.

Greta again emerged and playfully scorned Alexey and Nicholas for starting breakfast without her and Elinor. Nicholas almost took her seriously and was about to apologize when Alexey rumbled: "Don't mind her, Nikolai! If us men were expected to wait for women getting ready, we'd have starved to death!" Greta playfully slapped him on the arm and Alexey guffawed. Nicholai just chuckled in his coffee. They were great people. He'd started growing fond of them.

Then Elinor entered the room. Alexey and Nicholas' mouths fell open and Greta beamed as she walked over and placed her purse on a chair. She was the embodiment of elegance and style. But her face showed a trace of uncertainty.

"It matches the bruises, doesn't it.... I should change..."

Nicholas looked at Greta and Alexey. Greta gently shook her head. Alexey was at a loss for words. Nicholas spoke up.

"Um, I can only speak for myself, but I think that's the worst idea ever, Elinor. You look beautiful. I think a top that contrasts the bruises would call more attention to them. But that's me."

He blushed and looked down, becoming intensely occupied with a piece of bacon.

 

[prettyserpentine]

Elinor smiled a little as she sipped her peppermint tea. She managed a pancake for breakfast, her stomach tightening around the food denied her for a day and a half. Greta rose from the table first.

"Alright, niece. Time for the dentist. Are you ready?" She winked at her.

Elinor smiled, her lips twitching a little as she tried not to be self conscious about her tooth. But still, her hand rose to cover her mouth and her eyes lowered a little nervously.

Small victories.

"I'm ready," she said, standing up and brushing her trousers off. She lifted an oversized pair of sunglasses out of her handbag and slid them on.

"Fabulous!" Greta clapped and Elin laughed, bowing slightly, her hand still at her mouth. She moved towards her uncle, kissing him on the cheek. Her hand was shaking a little as she smoothed down his tie.

"I'll be fine," she reassured him. As she moved to the door, she passed Nicholas' chair. She stood awkwardly by him. "I'll, uh, see you soon..." Her stomach knotted as she realised he wouldn't be nearby. Her breathing became a little panicked, her cheeks flushed. She was thankful for her sunglasses. She straightened her lips and took a few settling breaths. Greta touched her arm, looking at her. Elin nodded, forcing a thin smile.

"We'll be close," Alexey said.

"And we will meet at the apartment later for dinner?" Greta affirmed. She looked at Alexey and then Nicholas. Alexey choked on his coffee.

"Yes, my queen. We are to go to the offices first, and then we will meet you this evening. Say, seven?"

Greta seemed to relax. "Seven." She muttered something to him in Russian, and he responded, his eyes twinkling. Elin smiled as she was ushered down the elevator and into a waiting town car. Greta patted her leg. "I've arranged for a companion for you today. I have a few meetings. You have your cell, and I have mine, and you don't need to fret at all."

That didn't matter. Elin still did, a little. Her aunt kissed her on the cheek at the door to the dentist's office. There was no one there, except the nurse. The offices hadn't been opened yet. Elin rolled her eyes. Uncle Alexey, pulling strings again. The nurse looked at her as she locked the door behind her. Elinor straightened her back, and took off her sunglasses. The nurse looked at her with pity. She spoke with the same.

"How are you?"

Elinor smiled brightly, remembering Nicholas' words. Her face hurt a little. "I'm fine."

The nurse patted her shoulder. "I think you're doing admirably. Your father would be so proud."

Elinor wasn't prepared for that. She started to shake, then tears. She apologised. The nurse waved her hand and led her into the surgery.

An hour later, the young Miss Mironov sat in the waiting room, her smile restored. The clinic would be opening soon, but as Elinor looked out the window, there wasn't a reporter in sight. She made a brief phone call to her uncle to inform him of her plans. Once her escort, who was late, appeared. She also informed him she didn't need an escort. Not one she didn't know, at least.

Twenty minutes passed. The nurse started to look a little nervous, and Elinor rose from her seat, putting her purse over her shoulder.

"Mrs Trier, I'm just going to go to the florist across the street." She headed to the door and the woman halted her.

"I'm really not supposed to let you go until your escort arrives."

Elinor lowered her sunglasses, staring at her over the top of them. "It's across the street, you can watch me, but you can't keep me." She forced a smile and turned the handle. Immediately the sounds of the street hit her. The door closed behind her and with shaking legs, she crossed the street. It took her a moment to get into the florist. She looked around, taking off the glasses.

People looked.

Her heart thudded.

She tried to steel her nerves. A sales assistant came up to her.

"How are you?"

It wasn't funny anymore. She ignored the question, and set about choosing flowers for an arrangement she wanted delivered to a neighbour. She spent a few minutes choosing blooms, colours, and ended up spending about $400 on a single bouquet.

"Thank you, Alyssa. I'll have them collected at five." She slipped her sunglasses on again and stepped back outside. Noises, flashes, people. She started to panic, and felt bile rise in her throat.

"Miss Mironov! I'm from the Star, can I have a moment?"

"Elinor! How are you recovering? Any word on the man who attacked you?“

"Morning Press! Let me through..."

She backed into the pillar behind her, her cast up over her chest, trying to breathe. She could hear a strong Italian accent begin yelling. A car pulled up on the sidewalk.

"Back off, you assholes! Can't you give her a fucking minute? Fucking parasites!" He was wearing a leather jacket, smoking a cigarette and wearing a peak cap. Dark sunglasses and a scarf. Who was he?

Strong arms grabbed her and hissed in her ear. "You were told to wait, you stupid girl..."

Carl! She turned and threw her arms around him. He lifted her, bundling her into the car as the Italian climbed in after them.

"Go, goddamn you!" Alfredo hollered, pulling off the cap and scarf. He turned to Elinor. "Dammit woman, you were told to stay in one place!"

She let go of Carl. He scowled at her. "Your aunt and uncle will have us killed!" His eyes softened, his hand taking off her glasses. Alfredo gasped. Elinor smiled, tears spilling down her face.

"It isn't that bad, Ali," she said, starting to sob. Carl held her.

"Oh baby," he said. "You poor poor baby..."

They took her back to their flat where they had lunch. Elinor had arranged for a real estate agent and her interior designer to meet them there afterwards. The boys told her how everyone was asking after her health, how things were progressing with the rehearsal. It was a pretty normal lunch. She told them about Nicholas. Alfredo teased about how he was excited to meet him, much to Carl's chagrin.

"Yeah, Monsieur Gerber has sent you flowers from everyone. He says once you get your cast off he will send his physiotherapist around to help you with exercises. But we are three down now!"

"Three?" Elinor perked a brow. "Who else?"

Alfredo lay back on the floor. Their apartment was small, an artist's spread. "You, then Patricia from woodwind. She went into labour this morning. Woman problems." Carl and Alfredo smirked at each other. "Oh, and David, from brass. Turned out he has flu. Proper stinking case too. Le Monsieur visited him last night and his doctor had been to see him. Hallucinations and shit. Apparently he fell down the stairs at his girlfriend's house. Broke his arm in two places."

Carl whistled. "Pity. He was a nice guy. A break like that could cost him his career."

Alfredo shrugged. "He's not that great. Anyway, there's someone at the door."

Carl rose and let in the two guests. He and Alfredo retreated to the kitchen while Elinor dealt with them. After an hour, they left. They both looked pleased. Carl rolled his eyes.

"How much did that set you back?"

Elinor shrugged. "Only a couple of hundred." She stuck her tongue out.

Alfredo shrieked. "A couple of hundred GRAND?!" Carl smacked him.

"Be nice to her, girl. She's our beard. Come on, we have flowers to collect and then we got to get you back to your place. Aunt Greta says dinner's on you, Mironov. Oh, and we have to keep to the back door."

"Shouldn't be a problem for you, chica," teased Alfredo, earning another slap.

--------------

The furniture truck was just leaving as they arrived at her building. The interior designer waved heartily. Alfredo mentioned how he wasn't surprised. He'd be waving too if he had earned as much as she had in an afternoon. Carl carried the huge bouquet of flowers up in the elevator, and Elin went to the apartment, letting herself in. It was modestly decorated. No wall decorations, but a fully furnished kitchen with all utensils, a table and chairs, the living room had a wall mounted TV, a large, grey fabric corner suite with a huge armchair fit for two people.

Carl set the flowers on the table in the hall. There lay an envelope that Elinor picked up. She opened it, and smiled. The deed to the apartment, bought and signed over to a Mr Nicholas McKenzie, gifted by the estate of Michael Kernshaw. The boys and Elin walked through the apartment. The bedroom had a sleek oak furnishing, complete with the large opulent bed, centering the room, with its navy blue sheets.

Elin started to cry. "It isn't enough..."

Alfredo put an arm around her. "Baby, your life is worth a million times more."

Carl straightened himself up. They heard another key in the lock. Probably Alexey. "Alright ladies. Let's see how Mr Cinderella does with this..." He stood on the other side of Elinor. "You're alright, darling, you're alright..."

"You're doing great," Alfredo whispered, keeping her standing.

As Alexey, Greta and Nicholas entered the apartment, they were greeted by the massive bouquet of yellow roses, white lilies and a score of other flowers. There was a large frame propped against the table. Centred in the frame was a small receipt.

Laptop. $600. Account settled. Riley's Pawnbrokers.

Underneath it, in feminine handwriting, was written "...to new beginnings...

Alexey was lost for words as he looked at the three friends. Carl saluted.

"Little difficulty finding her, but it's all good." He smiled genially at Nicholas. "I'm Carl. You don't have any tea bags..."

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Nicholas sat in silence, relishing the feeling of sharing table and food with people who cared for him and accepted him. His last meal with his family had been a cold and hostile affair, and the meals at the soup kitchen? Indifference at best. The last good communal meal he'd partaken in was in Iraq, right before the incident that got him thrown out of the army.

Breakfast done, Greta and Elinor got up to leave. Nicholas scarcely dared to look Elinor in the eyes. He was uncertain of his feelings for her and she didn't need him looking at her with pleading hopeful eyes. She had enough on her plate as it was, she, her family had done more than enough for him as it was.

"I'll, uh, see you soon..."

She stood by his chair, a wavering tone in her voice. When Nicholas finally dared look after her she was out the door, trailing her aunt. He'd caught some muttering in russian, but he had no idea what they were saying. He feared this day and had high hopes for it. They would leave the luxurious cocoon of a hotel room they'd stayed in since the unpleasantness. His new future began today. Hejumped, realizing that Alexey had spoken to him.

"I'm sorry, what? I was a bit preoccupied."

Alexey smiled. "I said, are you nervous today, Nikolai? It is allright if you are. I know I would be in your shoes. It is a scary thing, getting a new lease on life. When I deserted after disobeying orders, I made the trek on foot across the border to Pakistan. I had not expected to survive that journey, nor did I expect to be treated gently by the pakistanis. But what did I have to lose? Staying with my countrymen would mean certain death.By escaping and evading I at least had a small chance. I was captured and interrogated, then handed over to the CIA. They debriefed me and set me up after I had supplied them with certain, ah... intelligence. I had no qualms about selling out what was an immoral war. They sent me to USA and set me up with a boxing school. I even fought some matches. Setting up in a strange country, leaving the military nehind? Scariest thing I ever did, scarier even than my escape. You'll be fine, Nikolai. I won't allow you to fail. I owe you that much."

Nicholas had to swallow a few times before answering. "Your faith in me gives me strength, Alexey. I will not let you down."

Alexey rose and led Nicholas out of the room. "Now, I know you functioned as an assistant to your chalk leader, setting up duty rosters and so on. I'll assume you know or will pick up the paperwork quickly enough. You'll have an assistant well versed in the minutiae of laws and regulations when setting up rosters. But we need to test your fitness and fieldcraft before we send you out in the field."

"Fair enough. Lead on, Alexey." Nicholas was reassured by being told of his tasks. They snuck down to the garage and drove out the back entrance of the hotel. A short ride later, and they entered the offices of Alexey's security firm. Nicholas borrowed some PT sweatpants and a black t-shirt and was ran through his paces by a very fit young man. There was definitely room for improvement, but he'd passed. Next up was the target range where they spent a few hours familiarizing Nicholas with the weapons used by the company. His shooting wasn't bad, and he aced the combat course that followed.

Alexey waited at the end of the combat course, a big smile on his face. "Excellent Nikolai! You will have to re-qualify every six months, same as everyone else. And you could stand to improve your physical fitness, although i suspect that is more a question of nourishment in your case than anything else. As for now, all that remains is to say hello to your crew. And before you ask, their commander was promoted, so you're not taking anyone's job."

Nicholas went to an office where three young men and one woman stood, waiting for Alexey and him. One African-American ex-marine, built like a brick shithouse with a surprisingly soft voice named Robert Jackson. He gripped Nicholas' hand and muttered 'Semper Fi'.

The next man Nicholas recognised. He'd been in the neighbouring chalk to Nicholas' during his final tour in Iraq. He gawked and stuttered when he recognised Nicholas. Nicholas knew him to be a tenacious fighter and fiercely loyal. His name was Enrique Gutierrez. They embraced, and Enrique muttered about Nicholas getting a bum deal and that he'd done the same as Nicholas had done if he'd had the opportunity.

The third man was a bostonian with a heritage just as celtic as Nicholas. Joseph O'Hara was an ex MP that had served with distinction in Iraq. He would serve as Nicholas' assistant.

Last but not least was Marianne Olson, a blonde whose accent gave her away as a minnesotan. She'd been a police officer for twelve years (four of those years in SWAT) before going into private security, figuring that if she was being shot at it'd better be reflected in her pay. She was tall and muscular, and her grip was firm.

Nicholas looked them over. They looked fit and motivated. Alexey spoke up.

"Now that introductions are over, I expect you all to start working and training together as a team. We will start softly and work your way up to the expected standard of my company."

Nicholas spoke: "I am new at security work as such, but as Enrique here can verify: I have seen the bear and heard the owl. I will not demand more from you than I can manage myself. Having said that, I will need your feedback in the beginning. No criticism is too small or unimportant. We're striving for excellence, as we're working for the best damn security company in the world!"

Alexey beamed and Nicholas couldn't help but notice they stood a little taller after his little impromptu speech. Good.

The rest of the day was an informal meet-and-greet where Nicholas got to know each of his security officers better. He detected no apparent weakness in the group. Alexey had chosen his people well. It was up to Nicholas to strive towards the same level of excellence.

Greta showed up after many hours had passed. By then Nicholas had established a good rapport with his officers and gotten a measure of their abilities. They had a set pattern adhering to stereotypes that had functioned well before. Robert jackson was the obvious muscle on display. Enrique often went disguised as serving staff or other laborers of menial tasks while Joseph and Marianne mingled with civilians. They had worked together before and were a tight crew.

Greta and Alexey stood back and held a whispered conversation. After a while they discretely pulled nicholas aside and told him that dinner was waiting. Nicholas said his goodbyes and followed them out of the building. They drove a short distance and parked near a building Nicholas recognised. This was where she lived. The doorman looked a little embarassed as he welcomed Nicholas. He clearly hadn't forgotten his interpretation of events.

The elevator ascended and Nicholas grew more and more nervous. Alexey handed him a set of keys and told him to unlock a door he pointed at. The door swung open and Nicholas was greeted by the sight of his new apartment. It was sparingly but tastefully furnished. A large and opulent bouquet of flowers was placed on the table, the most ostentatious he'd ever seen. It bore a wreath that said "Welcome to you new home, Nicholas!" Elinor and two men were waiting for them. Nicholas shook hands with Carl. Carl said in a low voice: "Thank you for saving our Elinor for us, Nicholas. This is nothing more than you deserve." Alfredo was next and Nicholas quickly realized that he and Carl were lovers. Alfredo shook his hand vigorously: "It is SUCH a pleasure to meet Elinor's knight in shining armor! Thank you so much, Nicholas!" And finally he stood before Elinor.

She seemed to be a bit apprehensive. He gently took her good hand in his and just said: "I love this. You've spoiled me these last two days. This is all too much, really. But I am grateful. Thank you so much!"He chanced a quick peck on her hand, unsure if she wanted to be hugged just now. Her hand was soft and smelled nice. His eyes fell on the picture frame and he realized what he was looking at. The stub from the pawnbroker, with a message of hope written in a delicate hand under the stub. He welled up and turned towards Elinor as he mouthed the words "thank you". Then he saw the envelope, almost drowned by the bouquet.

Alexey nodded his encouragement as he opened the envelope, and there it was. the deed to the apartment. Nicholas raised his voice and asked for silence.

"I am overwhelmed by your generosity and kindness. Two days ago I was overjoyed to have found a cardboard box large enough for me to snuggle inside. Today, because of events we are all now aware of, I am standing in a new apartment, surrounded by friendly people that have helped me more than anyone ever have helped me before. Thank you one and all for all you have done for me. When I'm settled in I want to invite you all over for a nice dinner. I dabbled a little with cooking, and now I have a kitchen for me to rekindle that hobby. And the next time you're here I will have teabags, carl. Don't you worry." He smiled with tears in his eyes, happier than he'd been for a long long time.

 

[prettyserpentine]

"Brava! Bravissimo!" Alfredo stuck his chest out like a preened peacock and applauded. "Beautiful!" Carl rolled his eyes and swatted his hand lazily at him like a pesky fly.

"You are such a drama queen, Ali!" Carl hugged Elinor against him, her arm around his waist. She was smiling brightly, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. Carl looked down at her quizzically, but chose to say nothing. Instead he clamped a hand over his stomach. "I believe that our dinner will be arriving to Miss Mironov's apartment in a half hour?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, that's true." Elinor smiled fondly up at him, and then looked at Nicholas. "I thought it would be better to eat there, I have tea bags. And coffee, too."

"Coffee!" Alfredo said in a growling tone, moving beside Nicholas and slinging his arm over his shoulders. "There had better be beers for us men!"

Carl snorted. "Oh honey, I'm sure Elin has cocktails for you." The two men winked at each other, sharing a loving smile as Alfredo pulled Greta and Nicholas to show them the rest of the apartment, pointing out Elin's skeletal furnishings, to give Nicholas an idea how he would wish to decorate it. Alfredo gave him some of his own ideas, however welcome they might have been.

Alexey approached Carl, shaking his hand. "Thank you for looking after her today, young man. We have had much to do, the beginning of our fight back, as it were!" He touched his niece's chin. "I am beyond proud. I know Katarina gave grand gestures to your papa, this is just like she would have done." He kissed her forehead and she smiled reverently at him. He ran his big hand over her head and she flinched, protesting.

"Oh god Elin, I'm sorry!" He fisted his hands at his sides.

Elinor shook her head. "It's alright, it's alright, just a little sore still, I'm alright!" She yelled the last part as she could hear Greta fussing. A few minutes later and they took the elevator up to the top floor. Elinor kept looking at Nicholas as they rode the elevator up. She was a little embarrassed. Her apartment was much larger than his. She didn't want to intimidate him. When the doors opened, she punched in the code to turn off the alarm, and pushed open the door into the living area. The entire opposite wall was glass, offering a beautiful view over the park and the rivers beyond. The lights twinkled and it looked beautiful in the snow.

Elinor pressed a switch, and the apartment lit in muted light. The carpet was thick and a deep cream colour. The two huge couches and armchairs were coffee and cream set in leather. The centre of the room was a rectangular pillar, set with a fireplace, separating the living area and the dining area with its table of mahogany. The seats had backs like cellos.

Through the dining area was the kitchen, black and silver marble with a centre island and a plain little stove. Beyond the living area was a long corridor, leading to the rooftop garden and pool. It branched out into the bedrooms. All the doors were closed.

Elinor shrugged a little, setting her keys on the little table by the door. There was a photo of her with her mother and father. She would have been no more than six.

"The place is a little untidy..."

It was immaculate.

Immediately, Alexey strode into the kitchen, opening the fridge. "My queen!" He lifted out a bottle of cognac and Greta smiled. Carl and Alfredo opened a bottle of red wine, poured themselves a glass each, and a little one for Elinor. Alexey yelled to Nicholas, still standing by the door. "Close the door, Nico! There is a draught! And what shall you have? Beer? Wine? Cognac?"

Dinner arrived and Elin insisted they all behaved informally, sitting around the fireplace in the living room. They settled in comfortable conversation, Greta and Alexey on one sofa, the boys on another, Nicholas in an armchair, and Elinor on the floor, crosslegged, eating her Chinese food awkwardly with her right hand. The fire crackled warmly behind her, illuminating them all in an orange glow.

Alfredo stood to his feet, standing at a jaunty angle with his long, slim legs. He held his glass aloft.

"Grace!" His passionate Italian tone demanded silence. Elinor looked up at him, blushing. "To our beautiful hostess, you wear your stripes with such dignity and ferocity... To your unquenchable spirit!" He clinked his glass to Carl's, and then raised it again. "And to her saviour! You have our eternal thanks, one and all, sir." He bowed low, his elegant body bending as Alexey shouted something in Russian.

Elinor turned, reaching out with her half-full glass of wine to toast it against Nicholas' glass. She mouthed 'thank you', just as he had done downstairs, her face glowing warmly in the firelight.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Alfredo caught a glimpse of the tears in Nicholas' eyes and called attention to himself by yelling, for which Nicholas was grateful. He caught a flash of white as Elinor smiled, and he was happy to see the dentist had done a splendid job. Before she hid her smile he had trouble remembering which tooth had been chipped. He wondered why she hid her smile. It was beautiful, and he was relieved to see her smiling and being more at ease with people holding her. But then, she had nothing to fear from Carl. Nicholas had liked the two men immediately and instinctively. He was happy Elinor had such good friends.

Then he was pulled along to see the whole apartment. The kitchen was all he'd ever dreamed of and he was looking forward to taking up cooking as a hobby again. He beamed as he examined the shelves and drawers and he was filled with a boyish glee as he turned to Elinor and with a gleeful voice announced: "You've thought of everything! How did you know I was so fond of cooking? Oh, I can't wait to start experimenting again!"

The living room was more than large enough for his needs. The TV was the largest he'd seen and the sitting group was discrete and tasteful. He loved it. But what floored him was his bedroom. The bed looked big enough to field a small army and the rest of the furnishings were elegant and tasteful. "Elinor, this is too much. I-" She shot him a look that all but said "Shush. Enjoy!" and he jut nodded meekly. "I've never had a place of my own. Thank you once and for all, Elinor."

Nicholas took note of Alfredos' suggestions for decorations. He wanted to implement some of his ideas. He had to remember to call him and Carl over for dinner. He stopped in his tracks. Invite people for dinner. Him. He was still dizzy with the changes he'd been through. But now he could only smile, the reality of the situation sinking in.

He was brought out of his reverie as Ellinor flinched and yelled out. This was not the anguished cry he'd heard only the evening before, but a sharp protest at the sudden pain as Alexey inadvertently brushed her stitches. Nicholas relaxed and smiled as Elinor assured everyone that she was alright. He believed her. She would have bad days and good days but she would pull through.

The promise of food sent them all upstairs to Elin's apartment and as they entered it Nicholas was floored again. It was HUGE! And elegant. Not that he was envious. He had just started wrapping his head around being the owner of the apartment one floor down. It was more than sufficient for his needs. As the rest of the group moved into the living room, Nicholas' eyes caught sight of a picture of Elinor and a man and a little girl... But she was so young, and she hadn't mentioned a child and- Oh. It was her mother and father, of course. Then that little girl had to be her. He leaned in for a closer look. Yep. Those were her eyes. She was adorable, a shy smile mirroring her mothers radiant beam. Her father was smiling as well, a thoughtful look from a man who clearly didn't mind being upstaged by his two beauties.

At Alfredo's question Nicholas replied "Only mineral water for me, please. I start getting in shape for my new job tomorrow. PT with a hangover is no picnic." Alexey smiled at that and gave Nicholas an approving nod.

Nicholas first tried protesting about Elinor sitting on the floor, but she gave him another shushing look and he conceded. It was her apartment after all and if she wanted to play the thoughtful hostess despite her injuries, it really was none of his business. But he felt like he was taking advantage of her. That is, until he saw her sitting on the floor. She even managed to make that look graceful and elegant. It was a shame she hadn't taken up dancing like her mother, he mused. Her moves seemed measured, confident and graceful.

As dinner progressed, the talk turned to the attrition rate in the orchestra. Carl complained about three persons missing. Elinor of course, Patricia who'd gone into labour and David from brass who'd had the most rotten luck. Imagine being so overcome by the flu that he fell down the stairs and broke his arm! Nicholas had a start at that, mirroring Alexey. They exchanged glances and nodded imperceptibly. This needed investigating.

As Alfredo called for toasts Nicholas smiled warmly at the praise lavished upon both Elinor and him, and he mouthed the words "You're welcome" to her as Alexey roared "Na zdrowie!" Nicholas emptied his glass of mineral water, as he knew that meant 'bottoms up'.

Alexey sauntered over to him and told him to follow him. Nicholas got up and followed the gentle bear of a man. They moved to the kitchen and Alexey cut to the chase: "Your thoughts, Nikolai?"

Nicholas answered: "Too much of a coincidence, I think. He has the flu. He might be chewing minty lozenges because of the early symptoms. It'd be interesting to know if the fractures are in his upper or lower arm. We better not start asking questions tonight, though. It'll only upset people."

Alexey nodded. "I agree, Nikolai. I will call my contacts tomorrow and see what they can dig up on this David from brass."

They were interrupted as someone entered the kitchen.

 

[prettyserpentine]

Alfredo leaned against the kitchen island, looking a lot more serious than he previously had. "I'll be your man on the inside," he stated. "It's better if this isn't mentioned to Carl or Elin. They're a little naive." He glowered. "And good luck, Alexey. From what I've heard, David hasn't been seen at all since Gerber called with him. And his girlfriend didn't show up for work this morning. She's a cleaner at the rehearsal studio."

He turned, shushing them. Laughter echoed in from the living room, he looked out, waving slightly at Carl as he had his arms wrapped around Elinor. Alfredo grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, never even looking at Alexey and Nicholas. He headed for the living room, pausing and looking around grimly.

"Oh, and to answer your question. Mr Gerber mentioned it was his humerus. Just above the elbow." He looked up at Alexey, his knuckles white around the bottle of water, and just like that, his face changed as he entered the living room. "Here you go, Greta darling. Sparkling, just like you wanted."

The night progressed well, there was much laughter and chatting, and Carl insisted on he and Alfredo spending the night.

"I am much too drunk to navigate a taxi home," he protested. Elinor only too readily agreed, and her uncle was glad she had the company. The two boys went off to bed early, shooting jokes about changing the sheets. Alexey and Greta left just before midnight, Greta kissing her lightly on the cheek and telling her to be careful, Alexey giving her a careful hug, and whispering something at Nicholas, winking at him.

They wandered into the elevator, shutting the doors, leaving her and Nicholas standing awkwardly in the hall waiting for the other. Elinor was mystified as to why they hadn't waited on Nicholas. It didn't matter, the other elevator was a couple of floors away and would take a moment.

She looked up at Nicholas, smiling. "I was thinking, tomorrow after rehearsal we could go shopping, for food for your place." She fidgeted a little, knowing he was going to protest to her attending rehearsal. "It's alright, I'm going with Carl and Ali, I won't be on my own. And everyone will be there. I can't miss it, I know I can't play, but it's important that I'm there."

One floor away, she heard the whirring of the elevator. The doors opened and it announced the number of the floor. She reached in, pressing the stay button as Nicholas moved to enter the lift. He stood just inside, she stood just outside.

"I was wondering... Perhaps tomorrow night I could make dinner. A celebration, for your first day in your new job... I thought it would be nice. Uncle Alexey and aunt Greta will be dropping by, and I have a good recipe for stroganoff..." She bowed her tousled head a little.

"I should let you go." She looked up again. "Goodnight, Nikolai..." She stepped over the lift threshold and kissed him very lightly on the cheek, her fingers just brushing the back of his hand as she moved out of the elevator. The doors moved closed just as she reentered her apartment.

------------------

As Elinor lay in her bed, rested and warm, she could hear the playful laughter of Carl and Alfredo just down the hall. She was glad they had offered to stay with her, even more glad when Carl brought her scrambled eggs and tea for breakfast. She ate heartily, feeling a sense of normalcy returning to her life. Alfredo hovered a lot, texting from his blackberry.

"Who are you talking to?" Carl would demand.

"My other girlfriend," he teased. Carl pouted. "Now hurry and get up. Rehearsal is in half an hour!"

Elinor managed to shower, pinning her hair up a little so a few strands fell down intricately. She didn't bother with makeup, and chose a pair of black jeans, high heels and a large baggy grey jumper with a black love heart in the middle. She grabbed her purse, popped a painkiller for her head and headed out with the boys.

When they reached the foyer, she asked the doorman if Nicholas had been. He smiled kindly and informed her yes, Alexey had picked him up at eight thirty, sharp. She smiled as Carl whisked her off in a taxi.

She managed to count, throughout the course of her day, that she was asked seventeen times 'How are you'. She texted her uncle, asking him to tell Nicholas. David and Patricia were the only two missing from rehearsal, although Patricia called in on her way home from the hospital to show off her new son.

The orchestra practiced from ten in the morning until seven thirty in the evening normally, with essential breaks during the day for tuning, repositioning. Although Monsieur Gerber was surprisingly relaxed, but everyone suspected it was because Elinor was there, and Elinor was still 'fragile'. She sat, listening to the music and tuning some of the spare instruments, cleaning them. There was more to being in an orchestra than playing and she had always appreciated that.

She scowled. She was out of wax for the cellos. During a lull in the music, she signalled to Mr Gerber that she was going up to the storeroom for more.

Taking the steps slowly, Elinor walked up and through the storeroom, lifting an empty box. She filled it with wax, polish, a few rags and lifted the box in her arms, settling it between her cast and her hip as she closed the door behind her. She looked out the window to her left. It was cracked, and she could feel the cold almost-December air whistling through it. There was a garden a half storey below, the rose garden. It was one of her favourite things about the music hall. Lined with roses, immaculate lawns, the intricate stonework around each flower bed. She could just imagine the summer, the smell of the roses. They smelled like...

...mint.

She exhaled. Her heart leapt in her chest and she turned round sharply. A sigh of relief. She set the box down.

"Oh my god, David, you scared me." She put her hand over her heart. He smiled. He looked pale and clammy. She put her hand on his arm. "How are you?"

The next moments passed in a blur. He laughed, low, and his breath stank. Elinor thought she was going to be sick, just when she realised what he was wearing on his head. A fedora. She opened her mouth, managing the slightest of cries when he slammed his forearm against her mouth, pinning her against the cracked window. She could feel the glass against her back. Her head ached. She could feel his own cast under the coat.

"Goddammit Elinor," he mumbled, leaning in to her. She screamed against his arm, kicking out with her legs, struggling. She could see a man, woman and child out in the garden. She started to cry.

The glass was cracking. She heard the woman utter a scream.

David grabbed her casted arm, squeezing it. The plaster of Paris crumbled, falling over the floor. Adrenaline fled through her veins. She felt the glass give way behind her, her shoulders and head breaking through it. Her mouth was free. The glass fell around her like diamonds. She screamed as loud as she could, her good hand closing around a large shard of glass, pulling clean away from the window's edge before she slammed it into his thigh.

He screamed then, and she felt vindicated as her own blood poured from her hand. He lost the power in his leg and slumped against her, grabbing at her jumper. His fedora fell off, landing just by the door.

Footsteps, footsteps on the stairs and he was trying to get up, get away. She lashed her bloody right hand down his face, feeling for another piece of glass before their tangled feet caught on the box below.

And then there was air. And the smell of roses and snow. David landed a few feet away from her. She had landed too, in a bed of roses and broken glass, like diamonds.

But her head... Her head felt big. There was a woman kneeling. The man was with David, as was Mr Gerber.

"Look mummy... Look at the red..."

Elinor lay blinking up at the window. Alfredo was white, snow falling around him. He was holding the fedora and his hands were bleeding.

She lay there on the snow, blood seeping from the open stitches, seeping all over the intricate stonework that was her pillow, blossoming like a poppy. Her right hand clutched the snow, her left was a mess of broken plaster. She started to shake.

"Mummy! It's the police! And the am-boo-lance!"

"You goddamned sonofabitch!!" Alfredo was on David, who was laughing, clutching at his thigh. Monsieur Gerber pulled him off before she could hear her native tongue. Russian. Shit. Her uncle.

"Christ, Christ..." Carl pulled his coat off and threw it over her. She looked up at him, then over his shoulder. As the paramedics got to her, and the smile spread across her lips at the sight of her new neighbour, she realised she was going to be late for dinner.

Someone said her name. "Elinor..."

Alexey was yelling at his staff, one of the paramedics said something about pressure.

"My head..."

Carl's eyes widened. "Baby you aren't speaking English... Alexey goddammit Alexey!"

"Uncle, have you my painkillers? Am I in trouble? I stabbed him..." She was shaking so violently, her stomach turning. "I need to be sick..." Her head felt enormous.

He smiled, shaking his head, talking back to her in calmed Russian. He said he didn't have her painkillers. Then he was yelling at someone for going to the wrong music hall. The paramedics told him to wait. Then something about shock. She felt a pinch in her forearm. Then it started to get dark, fast.

She was falling again.

 

[Niceandbrutal]

Alfredo had overheard them. His facade when talking business with Alexey and Nicholas was different, sombre. The assault on Elinor had clearly affected him and Carl strongly. Nicholas found himself grateful that she had two guardian angels in the orchestra. Their playful risqué banter caught most people of guard, allowing them to easier evaluate everyone they met. It was a coping technique born out of necessity. It seemed that they too had their suspicions regarding David. The news of his girlfriend was disconcerting, to say the least. Maybe he'd graduated to murder? If he was the culprit, that was. There were too many suspicious coincidences. Alfredo grabbed the bottle of water and resumed his role as prancing carefree Alfredo. Nicholas chuckled.

Alexey and Nicholas again looked at each other. They'd need to put guards around the concert hall. "I think you'd better talk to your contacts in the police about this, Alexey."

Alexey nodded. "Of course. You and your team will stake out the hall tomorrow."

Nicholas nodded grimly. He almost hoped the slime of a man would try something stupid. They'd be ready for him.

They rejoined the party and tried to put their mind off tomorrow's business. Nicholas was glad when Carl and Alfredo insisted they stay the night, knowing only too well the real reason they did so. Nicholas' fondness of the two men grew. Elinor would be in good hands.

When Greta and Alexey left, Alexey leaned in and muttered: "Be in the foyer at 8:30. I'll pick you up." He winked and was out the door as Nicholas muttered "Of course. Thanks Alexey."

He was alone with Elinor again. There was a short silence, then: "I was thinking, tomorrow after rehearsal we could go shopping, for food for your place."

Nicholas had expected this, he and Alexey had expected her to want to return to work. Still, Nicholas didn't like it and he told her so.

"It's alright, I'm going with Carl and Ali, I won't be on my own. And everyone will be there. I can't miss it, I know I can't play, but it's important that I'm there."

Nicholas looked at her, doubt gnawing at him. If his and Alexey's and Alfredo's hunch was correct she might be in real danger. But she couldn't live her life being afraid of one man, he understood that. The elevator arrived. He stepped inside as she pressed the 'hold' button.

"I was wondering... Perhaps tomorrow night I could make dinner. A celebration, for your first day in your new job... I thought it would be nice. Uncle Alexey and aunt Greta will be dropping by, and I have a good recipe for stroganoff..."

"I would love that, Elinor. But only if you let me help you make the stroganoff. I won't try to alter the recipe in any way, but I'm pretty handy around the kitchen. I'll do the manual stuff like slicing and dicing and lifting, while you supervise and do what you can with your good hand. Deal?"

She said goodnight and surprised Nicholas as she leaned in and gave him a light kiss on his cheek, her soft hand trailing his as she withdrew. Nicholas was too stunned to speak. He stood in the elevator for the longest time, hand touching the spot where she'd kissed him, only coming to his senses as the elevator started moving. He'd forgotten to press the button to his floor! s the elevator opened at the ground floor there was an awkward pause as the couple waiting for the elevator waited for him to get out.

"Oh, um, hi. New neighbour. Just- just learning the ropes with this elevator." They gave him a quizzical look but apparently decided he didn't pose any danger. It turned out they were his next-door neighbours. Hands were shook and introductions were made. As he closed the door behind him in his -his!- apartment, he couldn't help but smile. And laugh. And then cry. He let his feelings get free rein. He threw himself on the couch and just relished being alone and warm and safe. He dozed off and awoke a few hours later. Undressing and carefully laying out clothes for tomorrow morning, he sank into his new bed and- oh. It was better than the bed he'd slept on in the hotel. He fell asleep with a smile on his face after setting the alarm for 7 AM. He slept like a contented child.

--------------------------------------

A quick shower and a distinct lack of breakfast later, Nicholas stood in the foyer, ready for his first day at his new job. While waiting for Alexey, he noticed the doorman avoiding his eyes. Nicholas recognized him. He walked over to him and introduced himself. The doorman started apologizing for calling the police on him and Nicholas cut him off.

"I'd have jumped to the same conclusion, given the circumstances. There's nothing to forgive, Xavier." Nicholas had noticed his name on the little sign he wore. "As a matter of fact, I'm pleased you're so alert and quick to respond. Don't ever change that." Xavier smiled, clearly relieved.

Alexey arrived and Nicholas went to the car and got in. "We will eat breakfast in the cantina with your team, Nicholai. I know you don't have a scrap to eat in your kitchen, a slight oversight on our part. Which reminds me," he pulled out a sleek black credit card "this is to tide you over until your paycheck comes in. It's an expense card for the company." Expecting protestations he raised his hands and good-naturedly said "You should know better by now than to protest, Nikolai." Nicholas shut his mouth as he was indeed about to protest. Instead he chuckled and replied "You know me too well, Alexey."

They arrived in the cantina and found Nicholas' team already settling down for breakfast. Robert was entertaining them with some wild tale about an assignment gone hilariously wrong. Joseph, Enrique and Marianne hung on to his every words as his soft voice regaled the tale about a man being tackled to the ground because of a misunderstood turn of phrase and a misunderstood gesture.

Alexey and Nicholas joined them after helping themselves to food and drink. Alexey told of today's assignment and the team turned attentive. Alexey had ordered floorplans of the orchestra hall. It was an old building with many a nook and cranny to hide in. In short, it was a nightmare. There were many entrances as well, too many to case out by this one team. They decided on a mix of stationary and roving patrols around the building with Enrique on the inside as an 'invisible'.

They decided on light body armor (Nicholas felt a pang of worry as he realized Elinor should have worn a vest) and easily concealed weaponry and gear.

They got dressed and geared up and left for the orchestra hall. Nicholas' first post was in a café overlooking the alley where the entrance for the members of the orchestra entered and exited. He smiled as he saw Carl, Alfredo and Elinor arrive, animatedly discussing something or other. Carl gave Alfredo a little slap and Nicholas couldn't help but giggle at that. Those guys...
Elinor was beautiful as always. He admired her movements as she exited the cab and entered the hall. He made an announcement on the small radios they used to tell his team she was in the building. They all acknowledged, Enrique telling he had eyes on her as he spoke.

They settled to wait, changing up so they all had a chance to sit warm and snug in the café at some point. They passed the time by reporting observations and cracking jokes. Nicholas was near the rose garden when Marianne came on the radio, laughing. "These artsy type guys sure aren't very punctual! I saw one of them just now, just entering... Oh God! He was wearing a fedora! Move in, move in!"

Nicholas felt a surge of despair wash over him. He was the longest possible way from an entrance. He heard his team members move in, reporting as they went along. Nicholas felt utterly helpless. He decided to linger near the rose garden as it overlooked two possible avenues of escape, trusting his team to cover the rest. The minutes went past as the team painstakingly told of their progress, then Enrique came on the radio, speaking frantically: "I've lost sight of her! Fuck!"

At that instant, Nicholas saw her. She was half a floor up, clearly visible through some large windows overlooking the garden. And she wasn't alone. Nicholas' stomach tightened into a knot as he watched a man wearing a fedora advance on her. He shouted into the comms. "She's in the room overlooking the garden! Fedoraman is with her and he's- Oh God!"

Nicholas watched on in horror as Elinor broke through the window and screamed, echoing the woman standing beside him. He saw her grasp a shard of glass and flinched as he imagined more than he saw it cut into her hand. She swung the shard into Fedoraman's thigh and he crumbled, fought to regain balance as Elinor lashed at his face. Then Nicholas' worst fear came through. The window gave way and they both fell. Time seemingly stood still as he ran towards her, shouting orders for police, ambulance, ANYONE!!!

He was close enough when she landed to hear a loud thump as her head hit the stone much too hard. David had been more fortunate in his fall and he was trying to get up. Blinded with rage, Nicholas pulled out his baton and broke his ankle on the undamaged leg. He then ran to Elinor. She was unconscious but breathing. But she was bleeding profusely from her head. The woman with the child kneeled down by Elinor, checking her eyes. "I'm a nurse" she offered by way of explanation.

Nicholas nodded, happy that a healthcare professional had been close by. He went back to David with murder in his eyes. He didn't care anymore, he wanted to kill the bastard, just like he wanted to kill his CO. A part of his brain chimed in then: "Yeah, see how well that worked out!" He froze. No. He didn't deserve death. He deserved life as a cripple. He'd thoroughly crushed the man's ankle, he saw. The foot bent at an impossible angle. Good. He realized he could end the man'slife if he pulled out the shard of glass. Instead, he bent down and started bandaging him, making sure the shard of glass couldn't be moved before surgery.

As he none too gently worked on the bandage, an elderly well dressed gentleman appeared, out of breath. "What is happening? What is this MADNESS!? David! Elinor! What..." Comprehension dawned on him. He looked down at David, revulsion written on his face. "You. Utter. MONSTER!" He contained himself admirably.

The police and ambulance arrived. The paramedics started working on Elinor while receiving a preliminary report from the nurse. The police questioned Nicholas and the nurse after him. More onlookers arrived, and Nicholas' team aided the police in keeping them at bay. Alfredo jumped from the window, livid. Before anyone could stop him he punched David who only laughed at him. The well dressed pulled Alfredo off.

Nicholas went to Elinor's side. He whispered her name, on the verge of tears. One of the paramedics kneeled beside her and cursed under his breath as he checked her pupils. One contracted and one dilated. "The intracranial pressure is too high! We need to get her to the hospital now!" They fetched the gurney and strapped her to a backboard and fastened a collar around her neck. She'd started talking in russian. Alexey appeared by her side and started talking russian with her in a calm boice. They established an IV drip and sedated her before rushing her to the hospital. Carl and Alfredo came up to Nicholas and embraced him. "We'll take you to the hospital, Nicky. Come. The police will watch over that detestable piece of slime." Carl raised his voice. "We won't hold it against them if he 'falls' on his way to the hospital, will we?"

The ride to the hospital went by in a blur. No-one spoke. As the car halted, Nicholas sprinted out of the car and into the reception. He saw Alexey standing there, ashen faced and on the verge of a really good cry or an epic tantrum. Nicholas went to him and Alexey said: "Tell me what happened!"

Nicholas told about the stakeout and how Marianne had reported about David's entrance and how the team had entered the building while Nicholas had chosen to observe two exfiltration routes. Alexey nodded as the tale progressed, until Nicholas started telling about being an impotent witness to Elinor's struggle. Nicholas broke down, wracked with guilt. Alexey placed one of his meaty paws on Nicholas' shoulder. "Your plan was sound, Nikolai. But we had no team to replace you. A stakeout is taxing, and you had no intimate knowledge about the building like he had. I don't blame you or your team. I listened in on your comms and you acted like professionals. Now don't blame yourself or- Detective Baddeley! What news do you bring?"

Detective Baddeley approached them and shook both their hands. He looked grim. "Your tip paid off, Alexey. We found his girlfriend, trussed up, raped and slaughtered. God. He really went to town on her." He was pale. His hands were shaking. Clearly it had been bad. He looked at Nicholas, barely recognizing him. "Mister McKenzie. I'm glad we cleared up that misunderstanding." Nicholas just nodded.

A flash of fury and grim determination announced the arrival of Greta Mironov. She went up to Alexey and Nicholas and fixed them with a stare that could stop a herd of stampeding cattle: "Tell me!"

Nicholas retold the tale as best he could. She nodded as the tale progressed and she started welling up as Nicholas again had to tell of witnessing Elinor's struggle against David. When he came to the part where he fractured David's ankle she gave a curt nod and said "Good!" with a fury Nicholas wouldn't want visited upon him.

A doctor sought them out and adressed them. "She's being prepped for an operation now. She needs to drain blood from a subcranial bleeding. It's a low risk procedure, but we need to put her in a coma to reduce the swelling after the operation. She has a chance for full recovery of 95 percent. We will tell you as soon as the operation is over. There's a cafeteria if you want to sit down and wait. The procedure will take a couple of hours."

Nicholas suddenly remembered his team. He called them and told them to rendez-vous in the hospital cafeteria. Alfredo and Carl went to shop GOOD food and coffee and Alexey and Greta sat and comforted each other as best they could. As Nicholas' team assembled he went through each and every person's movements and actions. Marianne and Enrique looked distinctly uncomfortable. After the debrief was done he dismissed Joseph and Robert. He turned to Marianne and Enrique and said:

"Neither of you did anythhing wrong today. We'd been on stakeout for far too long without any letup. AND the building was an unknown to us. It was just bad luck. If any one of you feel the need to talk, I'm available. Now get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast."

The waiting was torture. They barely touched the food and drink that Alfredo and Carl had brought. They tried starting conversations but they quickly petered out. Nicholas started pacing the room until Greta with a pleading look made him stop and sit down. Finally the doctor showed up again with a smile on her face.

"She will be okay. We had to put a drain inside of her to remove any buildup of fluids. We'll more than likely remove that in about a week. She will be in a coma for a couple of weeks. We will of course provide physical therapy to her while she's in a coma to speed up her recovery when she wakes up."

Greta hugged the doctor, then Alexey, Nicholas, Carl, and Alfredo. She was crying with relief, as was everyone else.

Thus began a two week vigil where Alexey, Greta, Carl, Alfredo, and Nicholas took it in turn to sit by Elinor's side as she slept through her recovery. They often sat together, exchanging stories about themselves and Elinor. Whenever able, they helped the physical therapists and the nursing staff with various tasks. The only time they left the room was when Elinor needed a wash or they had to perform other delicate tasks. She was fed via IV and she breathed on her own. The only intimate task they could help her with was keeping her mouth moist whenever it opened.

Nicholas sat by her side in the evenings, nights and weekends. In the daytime he worked to train with his team. He sat and talked to her while holding her hand when he was alone with her, willing her to come through, daring her not to give up. Days went by and they removed the drain from her shaved head. Greta had gasped when she'd seen her with her curls gone, and it had taken Nicholas' full powers of persuasion to convince her that shaving her head, although a crime against beauty, was a necessity.

November went and ushered in December. Elinor would sometimes cry out in her sleep in both english and russian. She called out for her mother, her father, her aunt, her uncle... and Nicholas. Or rather, Nikolai. Nicholas' heart jumped every time she called out for him, and she seemed to calm down when he grasped her hand and talked to her.

Then early one sunday morning, she opened her eyes. She looked at Nicholas and said with a weak voice: "I missed dinner, didn't I?" For what seemed an eternity, Nicholas just looked at her. Then he cried tears of relief and joy as an increasingly confused Elinor asked where she was, why she was here and what had happened to her hair.

Nicholas called the nurses who in turn called the doctor. They chased Nicholas out of the room and set about examining her, while a jubilant Nicholas called everyone to let them know that Elinor had woken up.

 

[prettyserpentine]

Elinor fell and fell and fell, twirling through diamonds and the smell of roses for what seemed like the longest time. Each time her eyes opened she was somewhere different. The paramedics, rushing and talking, the doctors and nurses, reassuring her. Then there were the times she couldn't move, or speak, or even open her eyes.

Carl, crying by her bedside. Alfredo comforting him, blaming himself. No, no, it wasn't his fault! Uncle Alexey, spending all day reading to her, stories of the North. Greta and fairy tales, or playing Vivaldi, or Bach, and then Alexey complaining about the lack of Russian composers.

All the while, she slept.

And Nicholas, Nikolai, who had whispered her name in such anguish every night. Sleeping by her bedside. So close she could just extend her fingers and touch his auburn hair... Smell his faded cologne... Hear his tired voice as he talked to her, stories of his day, stories of his youth, stories of his war. The story of his salvation. Like the old story, she fell in love with him, just as she had fallen asleep. Slowly, and then all at once.

All the while, she slept.

As the enormity of her head lessened, she had room for dreams, nightmares and music. Always music. And dancing. Mother and Father, at the old house. Dancing, dancing, dancing. So happy together, so in love, until the Autumn came and she disappeared into the reds, oranges of the season. And Father, falling, falling into the murky golden bottles. She couldn't reach them.

All the while, she slept.

And he chased her, through every dream, the smell of mint and blood in her nostrils. And diamonds, and other girls. How many were there? They were all disappearing, walking away into the snow. Yet she remained, standing, feeling the grip of a hand she could not see, a hand that was always there. The grip that felt stronger every day, willing her to be strong. The baby blue sky above her, the auburn leaves swirling around her, the smell of a leather jacket. A musty, old smell that danced around her until the wind blew it away, and the only thing she could smell...

...was the morning.

Birds. The sound of wheels on linoleum. The disembodied voices of people talking in corridors. The smell of linen. She smiled, stretching her arms a little, halting when her bandaged right hand didn't move. It was cocooned, wrapped in strong hands. Warm hands. Her eyes opened and she blinked, squinting against the morning's bright light. Light she was very happy to see. And that tousled, auburn head. Her right hand was bandaged too, the cast gone. She tried her fingers, feeling a dull ache, muted by drugs. She lifted her left hand, brushing her fingers through the clean, sleeping hair.

Those blue eyes looked up, amazed, into her bright, awake spring-green eyes.

"I missed dinner, didn't I?"

His eyes stared at her, and she watched as tears filled his eyes, spilling down his face. She tried to squeeze his hand as he cried, looking at him confused. It took her a moment to realise where she was, everything that had happened.

Until she caught a look of herself in the chrome gurney beside her. She lifted the stainless steel tray, setting it down again quickly as her hands, still attached to the wires, touched her head. Short, too short, much too short.

Her big green eyes spilled. "My...my hair..."

And he just stayed with her. Smiling, consoling her, holding her hand.

Until the doctors and nurses ushered him from the room. She looked after him anxiously, her neck craning. They tested her for almost an hour, until she became obstinate and stubborn. Who is the president, where are we, what colour is this ball, can you flex your fingers, can you stand, can you pee in this dish... Doctor Barnes laughed, determining she was fit enough to see visitors, and could be released after a day or so. This was not good news to her.

"I need to go home! The recital is this weekend, I want to be able to go!"

"Baby doll, you slept for two weeks. We kicked the recital, even without "The Prodigy"." Alfredo shook his head from the doorway as the staff left. "So. Self. Centred." He gave her a huge smile and sat down on the side of her bed, stroking her cheek. She smiled. "God, darling. Look at those ears. I've never been so glad to see ears in my life," he said through a shaky voice and glistening eyes. "Carl's parking the car. I wanted to come up before the others get here. I'm sorry, darling. I never thought..."

Elinor put her finger over his lips. "No sorries. I'm still here, I'll live." She leaned her head on his shoulder as she crossed her legs under the covers. "Two weeks, that's why I feel so restless."

Alfredo kissed her head. "Carl bought you the biggest, most obscene teddy bear. You better act surprised. And Nicky has been here every night. That boy is dedicated."

She didn't say anything, but her heart leapt. She was glad she was off the monitor. They could hear excited bustling outside.

Alfredo shook his head, moving from her side. "Oh god, here she comes..."

"Elin!! Oh my god baby you're awake!!"

Poor Nicholas had to hold the door open to let Carl in. He set the teddy in one of the three armchairs. "Ali and I got you this big, obscene teddy bear! Isn't it delicious?! Oh love you look SO. GOOD. Honestly, pixie hair is so in right now. Anne Hathaway in Les Mis just KILLED. Or you could do scarves, or a pink wig, like Natalie Portman in that movie, you know? Oh god, I'm so excited to see you sweetie..." He gently squeezed her shoulders, planting a kiss on each cheek. Alfredo leaned against the wall and rolled his eyes. "We kept an eye on your place, and on your Nicky... Oh god, not YOUR Nicky, just Nicky, I mean, not that he couldn't be, I mean it's not like he's got a girlfriend or that he's gay (moresthepity), or that he doesn't spend every. Single. Night here..."

Alfredo kicked out, hitting Carl in the shin. "Whaaaat? Oh I'm rambling..." He winked at a red-faced Nicholas and Alfredo grabbed him, pulling him to the door before Elinor could even speak. "Come on lover, let's get coffee so everyone else can join you on the Caffeine Express..." The door swung, leaving Elinor and Nicholas together.

"I... They told me David made it. There'll be a trial, won't there?" She looked up at him uncertainly. "I'll have to be there, won't I..."

She looked down at her hands. She had peeked under the bandages, and saw the stitches in her bow hand. Her fracture was healing well. She picked at the bandages. "Will you ... you won't leave..."

Emerald met blue again and the wealth of emotion was indescribable. "Because I don't think I could wake up again if you ever did, Nikolai." She reached out, her fingers brushing against his hand the way they had in the elevator. "You've done so much for me. Saving me, staying with me..."

She shrugged, and felt a twinge from the back of her head. "Goddammit, Elinor..." The stench of that voice echoed in her head and she squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her hands. Nicholas spoke, and she felt the wicked moment pass into the ether. Her breathing regulated, and the smell of coffee filled the room as the boys returned. But only with a mild, warm tea for her.

They chatted briefly for a few moments, until Nicholas straightened. A smile spread across his handsome face, and silence fell.

Elinor sat up straight, ignoring the twinges from her body, smiling brightly at the doorway, listening to the approaching Russian and Irish accents bickering, drawing ever closer...