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47 watched intently through the scope on his rifle as Nika stepped from the post office into the sunshine of a bright and mild summer afternoon. Her hair had grown a little longer since the last time he had seen her face to face in the train and she was conservatively dressed in a black mini dress with a seductively revealing neckline- well, conservatively for her, at any rate.

He pulled back slightly from his gun as a small smile lit to his lips remembering the red dress she had worn the night he had used her as a cover in the restaurant on his search for Belicoff. The thin slip of fabric had barely covered her and it wasn't until that long, bloody evening was drawing to an end and she had straddled him on their hotel bed that he found how much the dress really had hidden. His fingers had touched lightly up the smooth skin on her thighs and he had to stifle a groan as he felt the stirrings of an erection tightening against his trousers; his resolve had almost broken then and there. But the feel of his hands shaking and his heart pounding away like a goddamn jackhammer had quickly reminded him that women, in general, were a dangerous distraction to the mission, and this one in particular was not only a dangerous distraction, but a lethal one. And so he had simply done what he was trained to do: neutralize the threat. The injection of the blackout serum had knocked Nika unconscious almost instantaneously, but still, in spite of all of his extensive training and his own personal doubts, it was all he could do not to brush his fingertips against the softness of her cheek as he pulled the thick comforter over her.

47 gently shook the memory away and placed his eye against his rifle's scope again, bringing Nika into view once more. She was opening the large manila envelope he had sent to her the previous week, and a strange feeling of giddy anticipation began to brew inside him as she pulled the papers out.

He smiled to himself as utter shock followed closely by delighted understanding ticked across her face. 47 acutely understood Nika's fierce desire to be free of Belicoff and had come to find of her dream of owning and running a vineyard as they had sat eating lunch and talking in the front seat of his car in the first few days after he had met her. He couldn't even remember how they had gotten on the topic, as Nika talked enough for the both of them and it was sometimes hard for him to follow her mostly one-sided conversations. But he was definitely listening as she had admitted her want of land of her own, even though she had stopped abruptly, blushed to the color of his tie, and quickly stuffed the last of her sandwich in her mouth before staring awkwardly out the passenger window, as if admitting it had embarrassed her.

And so, his gift of the property he owned in Southern France wine country was a clear and obvious choice for the woman who irritated and angered and ultimately freed him. Freed him from his forced servitude to the International Contract Agency. Freed him, not from a life of violence, because now that he was running, he always would be, but from a life of ordered assassinations and mandatory obedience.

He watched from the rooftop across the street from her as her eyes searched frantically for him, tears glittering harshly, threatening to spill down her cheeks. In that instant, with that unabashedly grateful and hopeful look splashed across her face, he waged an intense internal battle as he was nearly overcome with the need to rush down to the street and drag her into his arms, just to feel her against him, but knew the move would cost them both their lives, as the constant vigilance of other Agents had intensified when the price on his head grew with every moment he eluded them.

He swallowed hard and glanced down to the dead Agent at his feet. The cost of his freedom was glaringly evident, but it was a price he would gladly pay time and again if it meant he could keep Nika safe. And the only way he knew to guard her was to be her invisible shadow- not seen, not felt, but always there. A twinge of disappointment coursed through him at the thought. Never being able to touch her or interact with her in any way left him feeling unexpectedly empty and he wondered, not for the first time, how things might be different if he hadn't drugged Nika that night in the hotel. If he hadn't been so damn sure that taking was she so freely offered was a detriment to the mission.

He didn't consider himself a romantic man, not even remotely so, and didn't know if he'd ever learn enough of emotional human contact to be able to offer Nika what she deserved in a relationship, but he could and would offer his protection, would lay down his life for her, without hesitation, even if it broke his heart to watch her build a new life without him, never knowing he was there. For Nika he would do it without question.

So, as she walked slowly down the street, shoulders slumped slightly as if she was carrying the weight of the disappointment he felt himself, he followed deftly across the rooftops, never losing sight of her.

Nika stepped up to an intersection and stopped, waiting for the light to change and 47 took the opportunity to crouch down and quickly disassemble his sniper rifle, planning to make his way down to the street, to slip into the crowd behind her with his twin Silverballers close at hand under his jacket. He snapped the closures on the lid of his black gun case and straightened, looking down to see Nika still standing on the curb, her back to him.

A gentle breeze gusted up, teasing through her hair and 47 clenched his gloved hand into a tight fist, experiencing, perhaps for the first time, jealously. Shouldn't it be absurd to be jealous of the wind? He thought no, not when he longed for it to be his fingers tousling through the dark strands.

Nika suddenly became very still and turned her head slightly, seemingly aware of his presence. A small, knowing smile creased her lips and she was off, dashing to her left down a mostly deserted side street.

47 cursed under his breath and took off after her, running to the edge of the rooftop and slipping soundlessly down a fire escape. It was obvious, Nika was not going to make this easy and he was suddenly convinced: this woman was bound and determined to get herself killed, whether she knew it or not.