"Come on, I feel like I've been talking about myself all night! At least tell me where you're originally from. Obviously not American, judging from the accent," Johnny Storm noted.

I tilted my head in acknowledgement. "No, I lived all over Europe growing up. My guardian wanted me to attend all the best schools he could afford."

"Your guardian?"

"M-my parents died when I was very young; I barely remember them. He - my guardian - is the only family I've ever known."

"Oh, I . . . I'm sorry."

An uneasy silence settled between us. He had grown up with only his sister to look out for him, and he'd told me it had been a struggle for them. I sipped my martini, then glanced around the club. This was a far cry from the tea rooms I'd frequented for years.

Johnny rested his hand on mine. "Hey, you want to get out of here?"

We left the club and went for a walk in the park.

"All over Europe, huh?"

I giggled at his tone. "Yes. Geneva, Paris, Vienna . . . but Zhokarna is home."

"Choke Arna? Am I saying that right?"

I gritted my teeth at his mangling of the name of my hometown. "Zhokarna," I repeated more slowly. "It starts with a sound like the middle of pleasure."

He stopped, turned to face me, and tried again. "Show . . . car . . . nah . . . Better?"

He was making an effort, I gave him that. I couldn't help but smile at the expression on his face. "Close enough."

His shoulders shook briefly as he chuckled. It was a pleasant sound. "So where is this Showcarna?"

We continued on our stroll.

"Eastern Europe," I began. "Nestled in the Carpathian Mountains, there is a small kingdom called Latveria."

That stopped him dead in his tracks. "Latveria?"

"Yes." I watched his face carefully. "We are not very well known, but-"

"Oh, I know it. I mean, I know of it. Victor von Doom was from Latveria."

I averted my eyes and turned. I could not let him see the pain in my eyes.

Johnny rested his hands on my shoulders. "I take it you know of our . . . encounter?"

Encounter? Is that what he called it? Four against one sounded like an ambush to me. My voice failed me, so I only nodded. "I - I -" I croaked. "I should, uh . . . I should be getting home. I hadn't realised how late it was getting."

I heard him inhale sharply behind me. "Sure. I'll walk you home."

"Y-you needn't trouble yourself." I turned to face him again with a smile. "I can take a cab."

"It's no trouble, really. I want to."

I bit my lip and considered his offer.

"Besides," he continued. "I'd never forgive myself if I didn't see you safely home, Cynthia."

I sighed and relented. "All right. My flat's not that far from here."

"What's Zhokarna like?" he asked softly after a moment.

"It's a beautiful little village near the capital. The river Kline is to the south and there is a forest to the west. When the weather turns cold, we have a festival." A wistful sigh escaped my lips.

"That sounds wonderful. Sounds like the kind of place I'd like to visit someday."

I hummed in acknowledgement.

"Miss Fortunova," the doorman, Robert, tipped his hat when we reached my building.

"Hello, Robert. It's a lovely night tonight, isn't it?" I noted as I gazed up at the waxing moon.

"Certainly is. And a package arrived for you about an hour ago."

"Oh? Oh, right! I was waiting for something from back home. Thank you, Robert."

It seemed Johnny felt the need to see me all the way to my door, and I wouldn't be able to dissuade him if I tried. When Robert rolled the rather large box out from behind the front desk, Johnny quickly commandeered it. "Thanks, Robert, I've got it from here."

Robert cleared his throat uncomfortably and met my eyes. I merely shrugged and bid him good night. Since Victor's apparent death the week before, he'd grown even more protective of me, and I'm still grateful to him for that.

I couldn't think of anything to say on the ride up to my floor, but, it seemed, neither could Johnny.

When we reached my door, though, he had found his voice. "Listen, Cynthia, I'd love to see you again. How about dinner tomorrow night?"

I waited until we were inside my flat to answer. "I have a, uh, a meeting tomorrow afternoon. They always run late."

"Oh." He cast his eyes downward. "Okay."

"Maybe we could meet for lunch before that?" He really was rather cute, and I didn't want him to think I didn't want to see him again.

"Great! I'll pick you up here at noon." He gave me a peck on the cheek and headed off.

"Well, this should be interesting," I murmured once I was alone.

Next time, in The Edge of Darkness . . . opening that package from Latveria . . .