Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy.

A/N: I really hope you enjoy this! It's been floating around in my head for ages now. I tried to keep it as in character as possible. This is also my very first attempt at a Vampire Academy fanfiction so feel review to tell me how I went.

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- Surprised -

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Dimitri POV

When I'd first been assigned to St. Vladimir's Academy I'd had a lot of mixed feelings about it. I'd wanted to stay in Siberia, or Russia, not move half a world away from home. But when they said jump, I had to jump. So I had gone to the U.S. Saying goodbye to my family was horrible, and even after all this time I still missed them like crazy. I had not wanted to go to America at all.

But I didn't let my feelings influence my Guardian skills. I never had, and never thought I would.

So that was why I was so surprised when I met Rosemarie Hathaway.

I'd heard about the infamous Rosemarie Hathaway and Vasilisa Dragomir within days of coming to the Academy. The young Dhampir girl had run away with the last Dragomir Princess for no apparent reason, and everyone was having a hard time finding the girls. I knew what she had done was wrong in so many ways, she'd get her to-be charge killed if they ever ran into trouble, but you had to hand it to her. With the network of people looking out for them, it was impressive that they'd stayed hidden for so long – two years. I was surprised when I'd first heard it. Unless, of course, they weren't able to be found because Strigoi had found them first – a definite possibility.

When we did eventually find them at a collage in Portland, I was given the assignment of planning their capture and taking them back to St. Vladimir's. Honestly, I didn't think it would be too hard. Nearly a dozen Guardians were assigned to the job – really, what chance did a half trained Dhampir girl have?

As soon as a plan was in place, we left. I wasn't friends with many of the other Guardians, although I respected them all, so for me the trip was a silent one. I wondered what the girls, Rosemarie's in particular, motives were for doing something so dangerous. From all the rumours about her, I'd learnt that she rushed in headfirst, was terribly impulsive and reckless, placed at the top of her classes for fighting and had shown great potential before she'd left. She was known among the other novices as being a rule breaker, a smart ass, a party-goer, and got into fights – both verbal and physical. She'd been best friends with the Princess from a very young age. They were inseparable, and the Princess' parents had wanted Rose to be her to be their daughters Guardian. With how much training she'd missed the outlook of that happening didn't look likely, considering who Vasilisa was and how important her safety was to the whole of the Moroi court. If Rose somehow did manage it, I would be working with her as her partner, as I was assigned as the other Guardian for the Princess.

With the rest of the Guardians spread out over the immediate area in any possible route the young women would take in trying to escape, as I knew they would, I headed off to where they were staying. It was around three in the morning, unseasonable warm, and the night was dark. I hid myself in some shadows, watching their window. Two shapes were moving, and one lent down to the over, head at the others throat briefly. I wondered if I had the right room. One of the shapes walked out of the room after a minute or two while the other moved from my view.

A cat sat on the windowsill, peering at me at through the darkness. A pet, probably. The cat looked at something further back in the room before hissing and jumping off the windowsill just as one of the girls came to peer outside. Her dark hair was rumpled from sleep, and she looked tired. I recognised her as Rosemarie Hathaway. Despite her mused appearance, it didn't pass me that she was very attractive. She looked up and down the street, before her gaze settled on me. I cursed softly in Russian. I hadn't hid myself as well as I thought I had. Surprise and alarm flashed across her face, and then fear and determination as she stumbled back from the window and fled from the room.

I stepped back and went to tell the rest of the Guardians what had happened. Quickly, I made my way back to the small apartment, and watched as Vasilisa and Rosemarie shot out of the front door, peeling down the road at a fast sprint. I ran after them, a couple of Guardian's following me. Rose was wobbly on her feet. Maybe she was sick? And the other girl, Vasilisa, seemed to be helping her. Really, it should have been the other way round. I wondered what had happened to them.

When we finally caught them, Rose tried to attack me, which surprised me. There were nearly a dozen fully trained seasoned Guardians here and she was prepared to take us on? Once again, she had caught me by surprise. Later on, I'd asked her why she'd even tried. What she'd told me had surprised me: "I'm her Guardian." That alone said everything. In the process of restraining her, I'd seen bite marks on her neck. She must have been feeding her friend before. The look she gave me when she caught me was defiant and clearly challenged me to say something about it. Only Vasilisa had been able to calm her down, and they seemed to communicate on a level I hadn't seen before. It was like they could read each other's mind, and soon I realised why: they had a bond. It was rare, and those who'd had it had always been the best of Guardians.

Rosemarie Hathaway had surprised me yet again.

And so it continued, again and again, until I didn't know what to expect. She didn't crack under the pressure from her peers, the questions, Kirova, any of the Guardians. She faced Stan when he interrogated her head-on. She surprised me in our training sessions, her willingness to learn, her need to protect Lissa. It was something I could relate to. That need to help others, no matter what danger it put you in or who they were: Moroi Royal, a non-Royal, another Dhampir or even a human.

With that, it began. I'd watch her, trying to figure her out, and just when I thought I'd figured her out, she'd go and do the complete opposite to what I thought she would have done. She was hard on the outside, she wouldn't take anything from anyone, and didn't hesitate from starting a mini-war with one of her peers, Mai. And yet, she'd help others when they needed it, and stood up for the underdog in fights.

While I started noticing things that I could only describe as uniquely Rose, I started to notice other things. The way she smiled, her different expressions, her long, beautiful, dark hair. Her equally dark, depthless eyes. How stunningly beautiful she was – to the point that it hurt sometimes to look. During her classes, if I happened to be in on Guard Duty in one her rooms, I found myself focusing on her. Watching her from the corner of my eye, listening to what she said. Noticing the way she handled all the boys flirting with her, which set my blood boiling for no logical reason. In our practice sessions, when she teased me about my liking of old music, or about how she thought I wanted to be a cowboy, it brought a smile to my face. I listened with amusement when she complained about how hard life was, how her lip-gloss kept running out, and how it sucked to be on probation and have no social life. I found myself buying her favourite type of lip-gloss just so she'd be happy.

She started to notice things about me, too, that others didn't notice. I felt myself opening up to her, God knows why. I'd told her things I hadn't told anyone in a long, long time: about being raised in a Dhampir commune, my mother being a blood-whore, my abusive father, and her reaction when she found out that I had set my father in line at thirteen years old both amused and amazed me. She'd looked at me in awe. I told her about my family, about my mother's special books, about Yeva, my witch grandmother, my sisters. My beliefs on religion, Moroi politics, the way they trained Dhampirs for the real world. I wanted to share parts of myself with her. I told her about the beauty of Russia, the cities, the buildings, I tried to explain to her it was not an arctic wasteland like she imagined.

She also figured some parts of me out by herself. Like how I always had to fight for control around her, and God, did she test me on that one. The way I was peaceful in church, but not really attentive. She agreed me with things, too. I'll never forget the conversation we had in the back of the SVU on the way to a 'training exercise' – shopping. She'd looked at me solemnly, understanding me completely, it seemed, and said she'd rather be dead then be a Strigoi, or have someone kill her if she did happen to become one. She took her duties so seriously, more seriously than most proper fully trained Guardians, and I admired her for it. By that point I wasn't surprised at something so deep and meaningful coming from Rose. I was beginning to really, truly, know her.

I told myself it was wrong. I told myself it was illegal. I told myself it was impossible.

But I couldn't change it.

I was falling in love with Rose.

From the moments between us, the way I caught her studying me, sometimes ogling me, I was fairly she had some sort of feelings for me as well. There were times when I could barely restrain myself from holding her, or kissing her, and sometimes I'm sure she felt the same way. She was young though, and she might be a great Guardian, but I wasn't sure she just didn't just think she felt something. Or maybe the attraction was purely physical. But it was useless lying to myself. I knew, somewhere deep down, that this connection we had was serious – and more than an idle attraction.

We'd been training outside one day, and she'd chaffed her hands raw. I'd bandaged them up with the first aid, taking longer than necessary rubbing the ointment into her hands. She hadn't seemed to mind, and while some part of me was telling me this was wrong, I couldn't help it. When she declared it had begun – turning into the other female Guardians, hard and leathery, beauty lost, I couldn't help but argue. She complained about having to cut her hair to show off her molnija marks, and I'd fiercely told her not to cut it, to wear it up instead – another mistake that I somehow couldn't bring myself to regret. We'd sat there for a few moments, just looking at each other, before the rest of the world caught up with me and the seriousness of this situation dawned on me. I had pulled away, the magic lost.

No matter what I did, how hard I tried, it just didn't fade or go away. This feeling just grew more intense. It grew and grew, and it just became stronger, constantly screaming at me. I tried to quiet the voice, but it was illogical. I guess love never is. It was like a never-ending pressure inside of me, and I longed to tell Rose how I felt about her, even though it was so, so. As months passed, it became nearly unbearable.

Finally, one day, the inventible happened. Only the results I had no idea were coming, not in my wildest imagination.

Rose walked in for our before school training session, wearing her hair up like I said instead of cutting it. It made me smile, and I couldn't help but watch her as she walked across the gym to the change rooms, my Western novel completely forgotten. She remerged a couple of minutes later wearing her training gear, and we both started stretching. Neither of us spoke.

"Come on, we'll go for a run this morning," I said, standing up. Rose groaned but followed me outside and onto the track. We started running, keeping a good pace that seemed comfortable for both of us. I thought back to how out of shape she'd been when she first got here, and glanced at her now in amusement. She still put up the same fight when it came to running, the same attitude to it even though she knew its purpose. I knew Rose wanted action – the passion and fire that burned inside her demanded it.

We finished our run and headed inside. I gave her a few exercises to go through, and then started reading my book again, leaving her to it. I kept glancing at her over the cover, though, and one time our eyes locked and something unspoken passed between us. I expected her to make a joke, or a smart-ass comment in true Rose style, but she didn't.

She was still surprising me, even now.

She finished the exercises, and we moved on to sparring. We'd fight, both of us landing some hits, and it didn't pass me that she was an extremely talented fighter. She'd make a good Guardian.

"God all mighty, don't you ever get tired?" she demanded, sounding exasperated. She spun and kicked me, and I didn't make it in time to block it. "I see what Mason was talking about now," she added, mostly to herself.

Mason, the Dhampir boy who flirted constantly with Rose? I raised an eyebrow at her in a silent question, blocking her punch at the same time. She just shook her head and suddenly got into the fight. Soon we were both sweat covered and exhausted. I had to stop the fight – Rose was determined to beat me, and wouldn't stop until she dropped. Instead of calling it off, I decided I'd beat her to stop it instead. I increased my attacks, and when she moved to kick me, I seized the opening and had her on the ground before she could land the blow. Her arms and legs flailing through the air as she fell onto the mats somehow managed me to fall down, too. I narrowly avoided landing on her, falling to her left instead. Momentarily too tired to move, I lay there, hyper aware that Rose lay not an arms reach away from me. My senses all screamed Rose: I could just feel the heat off her arm where mine lay next to hers, my eyes kept flickering of their own accord to her form, I heard each breath she took, and I could smell the mixture of shampoo and body sweat radiating from her.

I closed my eyes.

It's wrong, it's illegal, it's impossible, I chanted to myself sternly, willing it to change something, anything. Because if it didn't, I wasn't sure if I could resist the connection I had with her, the love I felt for her.

I opened my eyes and peered blearily at the ceiling. By this point, I was desperate. Hoping, but somehow knowing that it wouldn't, I said the words out loud, thinking maybe hearing the words would make a difference. Knowing Rose couldn't hear, because she'd catch on, I murmured them in Russian.

"It's wrong. She is my student. It's illegal. It's impossible. I can't love her."

Rose stiffened beside me. I stiffened to. Maybe saying the words aloud wasn't such a good idea. I double-checked I said them in Russian, which she didn't understand, and not English. Rose relaxed and rolled her head towards me. "Are you ever going to tell me what it all means? Oh, and I still want to know Russian swear words."

I chuckled without humour quietly to myself. I could never tell her that, no matter what I longed, and she swore enough in English let alone Russian as well. "No, I won't tell you. And besides, you do enough swearing in English."

"But still," she said. She was thoughtful for a moment. "How about if I promise not to use them?"

I laughed. "Nice try."

She sighed. "I guess I could try Google or something. I'll find out that way." I shook my head at her. I really wouldn't put it past Rose for searching the internet for Russian swear words.

"Come on, Rose," I said, getting up. "School's got to about to start." I grinned at her. "You wouldn't want to miss Stan's class."

She groaned, and took my hand when I offered it to her to help her up. "Don't remind me." Tingles shot up my arm from where my hand held hers, and suddenly I couldn't let it go. Standing face-to-face with each other, holding hands, Rose didn't even look like she would pull her warm, calloused hand from mine. I was grateful. I met her eyes, and I knew she felt it, too. She steps closer. I'd given myself reasons again and again for why I couldn't possibly be with her: I was her mentor, it was all but illegal, it was endangering Vasilisa's safety, because I just knew that if something happened to Rose, she was killed by Strigoi, turned, anything, it just wouldn't be right. I wouldn't be right. Incomplete, in a way I didn't understand. It scared me sometimes how much Rose meant to me, and it was all unspoken as of yet.

The bell for first period rang, startling us both. We separated, and Rose smiled at me sadly, eyes knowing. "Sucks, huh, Comrade?" she murmured. I could only look at her, wondering how she knew me so well. I didn't even bother to scold her over the nickname, or wonder how she knew – really, did I honestly think she would be oblivious to this feeling? She scuttled off to the change rooms without waiting for a response.

More than anything, I wanted to tell her.

I needed to tell her.

It may have been unspoken, and speaking it was like crossing a barrier. A barrier looming in front of me, so close I felt like I was cornered against it. It was like a force was pressing me against the barrier, forcing me to climb it. I closed my eyes. I didn't even bother telling myself the reasons why I shouldn't tell her – I knew it was fruitless. Besides, I could tell her. I had to let the words, the feeling, out somehow. I just had to tell her in a way she wouldn't understand. Saying it was okay, just as long as a relationship didn't happen. I wanted to be with Rose, desperately, but I knew we could do that. There were too many factors against us. Mentor, student. Dhampir, Dhampir. Joint Guardianship of the Princess. Just wishing something didn't push those factors aside, no matter how desperately you wanted it to happen.

So when my Roza came out of the change rooms, bag slung over one shoulder, long dark hair piled haphazardly on top of her head in a messy bun, I took a deep breath. I made sure I would speak in Russian, and not English. I wanted Rose to hear, to truly understand the words, for me to tell her I would love her forever, that she was the only one – ever – but my compromise with myself didn't allow that. I knew what the outcome would be, and as much as I wanted and dreamed of it happening, it just couldn't.

"Roza, I just have to say this. I know you won't understand what I'm saying, but I know you understand this feeling, this deep connection. I'll probably never be able to tell you for so many different reasons: we're both Dhampirs, both Vasilisa's Guardians, I'm you're mentor, but trying to stop this is like trying to stop a cyclone. I love you, my Roza. God, I never thought I'd find it. But I have. And it's impossible. You understand me, and you're the first person I've truly trusted in a long, long time." The words tumbled out quickly, one after the other, forcefully. All that tension washing out of me. I was no longer cornered against the wall – I was sitting on it, almost as if I was at a crossroads. Rose looked at me, paused in the middle of the gym, her face unreadable, listening to me rant in Russian. I don't think I've ever seen her look so beautiful. I sighed. Softly, I said, "You're the only one. Ever. I love you."

She just looked at me, a funny expression on her face. It was a cross between love and hope and joy, sadness and pain. I felt my heart contract. She met my eyes, emotion shining through with such force I wasn't sure if there was a glaze of tears there or not. No, I thought. Why would she be crying? She didn't speak Russian. And besides, Rose doesn't cry.

"I know. I feel it to," she said back to me. In Russian. "I love you, too, Dimitri." She smiled softly at me, and walked from the gym, off to her first class of the day, which she was already late for.

I was stunned. I had no idea she could speak Russian, and was in no state to figure out the reasons or the story behind it. I was amazed. I felt numb for a second, and then emotion came rushing in again. It was the feeling I got whenever I was near Rose, thought about her. This feeling belonged to Rose. I was warm from top to toe, my body pulsing with a feeling so intense it felt I was glowing. Her words echoed through my mind, ringing through my soul: I love you too, Dimitri.

She could still surprise me. I hoped she always would.