A/N- Thanks so much to those reviewed, favourited and alerted this story. Thank you for the feedback and interest.

This chapter is from the woman's point of view. The plan is to alternate as much as possible between the two of them with a small amount of crossover so we get both points of view. It does mean we find out more about her before Callen! ;-)

I've written most of the Romanian in English this time so you will have a clearer picture if the last one was difficult to follow.

I look forward to hearing more of your thoughts. Thanks

CHAPTER 2

"No! Papa, where is he?" She spun around and everything blurred to black.

"I'm here."

It was so dark. She couldn't see, not even the hint of a shape or the slight twinkle of a star. But that voice answering her was like a beacon of figurative light. She wasn't alone.

"Grisha, where are you?" she sobbed as she fell to her knees.

"Right here. Open your eyes."

It couldn't be him. The voice wasn't right. Not quite anyway. But he was answering her call and the voice was familiar. The darkness that seemed to swallow everything was scaring her and she wasn't entirely sure she had her eyes open.

"Did you really think you could hide forever?"

She stumbled to her feet and turned to the new voice that suddenly came from behind her.

"Where are you?" she whimpered, terrified.

"We're right behind you." She spun around again. "We're coming for you. And your precious Grisha."

She felt a hand on her shoulder and screamed, "Grisha run!"

The words tore at her throat and Felicity sat up. She could barely breathe yet her chest was heaving and her heart raced. No, this wasn't happening, not now, not after so long. Sensing she wasn't alone she turned and stared at man on the bed next to her. His eyes caught her attention, trapped her, just like the nightmare and her mind swirled with a mix of memories of last night and her nightmare. If only the memories could win but they were no match for the terror she now felt.

"It's okay." His voice was low, gentle; obviously an attempt to soothe her but it didn't. It reached into her mind and scared her even more but she wasn't sure why. When he reached out, she flinched and pulled away. No. She couldn't let him touch her. She had to leave. She should've known better than to come with him last night, she just hadn't been able to ignore the draw she felt toward him. She flew off the bed, quickly found her dress and pulled it on, not caring about her underwear. The dress covered enough.

"A mistake. This was a mistake," Felicity murmured and then mentally kicked herself when she realised she hadn't spoken English. She could only hope it was low enough that he couldn't pick it up clearly and ask any questions.

Her senses were a mess. Her awareness was focused on the turmoil in her mind, not so much her surroundings, so when his hand gently but firmly gripped her arm, her eyes flew to that spot. Shock shot through her. She lifted her gaze to his face and locked onto his eyes.

"Let me go," she said as she tried to pull her eyes from his. What was it about them that she'd found so hard to resist last night? Now? It wasn't like they were unusual. Beautiful, yes, but she'd always found blue eyes to be attractive. These ones though, there was something so much more to them. Her great grandmother had always said the eyes were the doorway to the soul; that with the right gifts, you could know someone in a moment, know who they truly were deep in their soul. She shared that gift though she had avoided practicing it of late. There was too much darkness in the world.

"Who's Grisha?" he asked.

The pain in her heart felt like a knife, not just slicing in but repeatedly stabbing. Oh yes, this was the other gift from her great grandmother; the ability to feel and remember things she had felt and seen in her life. Good and bad. She'd take the seeing into the soul any day over this one. If only she could give them back, at least one of them, because the combination when they happened together could be more than terrifying.

"No one." Felicity pulled her arm from him and instantly felt loss but couldn't understand why. She grabbed her small bag but there was no sign of her shoes.

"You were calling his name."

Felicity closed her eyes briefly against the memory of the nightmare, pushed the confusion away. She'd have time to think about the strange ending later. She moved and placed her hand on the door handle, so close to freedom, when suddenly he was there, his hand on the door blocking her escape. The warmth of his body so close to hers, brushing against her back and seeping into her, called to her like a homing beacon. She fought the urge to fall back into his arms, to hold him, have him hold her and cry. She'd had no one to hold her when she cried for so long. She swallowed the whimper that almost escaped from her lips and took a slow quiet breath and hoped that she managed to harden herself to his effect on her.

She turned, ready to order him to let her go. She wasn't a prisoner and she intended to remind him of their deal. The night was over, walk away, no looking back - though she knew she would. This was one night where looking back would be essential, to learn for next time. Because she'd make a mistake last night coming here with him. Oh, she had most definitely enjoyed herself on a sexual level. More than enjoyed herself. The give and take between the two of them had been breathtaking. The mistake was she'd felt something emotional as well as physical and, instead of turning away as her rules dictated, she'd stayed; the pull of him far too strong for her to resist. She'd need to learn to be stronger because that mistake now threatened to cause more pain than pleasure.

"Cine eşti tu?" he asked.

Felicity froze and the demand ready on her tongue disappeared. He'd spoken the words in Romanian. The pain increased. The terror from the nightmare felt like nothing as the possibilities slammed into her.

He spoke Romanian. He knew that name. He said she'd said it in her sleep but as far as she knew, no matter how bad the nightmares were, she'd never spoken in her sleep before. How could he possibly know that name, unless ….

"No one," Felicity answered not even thinking that by answering she was confirming her knowledge of the language. She was no one, at least she wanted to be no one. She had to go and she had to go now. With every ounce of strength she had she turned the handle and yanked the door open. She used the motion of her body to push him back, to gain space to leave. She ran, her bare feet soundless on the plush carpeted floor, grateful that her father had always instilled in her the skill to run; to be able to both sprint and have stamina for the long haul.

She turned at the end of the corridor and started down the stairs. That feeling of his eyes on her disappearing behind her as she did. But the night wasn't over. She had to get home, try and figure out what had gone wrong. Was she safe or did she need to run? Her feet barely touched the stairs and, before she flew out the door into the lobby of the hotel, she stopped. She breathed slowly and willed her heart rate to slow just a little. She would never make it through the lobby without being noticed if she ran and the last thing she needed was to make it easier for him to follow. The fact that she was barefoot would bring her more than enough attention. There were no footsteps on the stairs above so she took another moment to breathe and run her fingers through her hair to tidy it, her clips yet another thing left behind.

Slowly she opened the door and stepped into the lobby. A quick glance around told her he wasn't there and, mercifully, the lobby was almost deserted. She moved quickly to the front doors, stepped through them and straight into a waiting cab.

The cab dropped her off a few blocks from her small apartment and she made her way home, careful of her bare feet on the rough ground. She rested her head against the inside of her front door after she'd locked it, a variety of four locks a barrier to the outside world, and a small degree of safety swept over her.

"What have I done?" Felicity murmured to herself.

The man tonight, last night, had intrigued her from the start. She'd felt his eyes on her, had watched him watch her though he hadn't seemed to realise it. There was something about him that she couldn't place, something deep inside that had shifted, perhaps recognised him. Her gifts led her to see the past but occasionally the future flashed before her eyes, in a dream or a strong connection to a path she should take. But only ever hers. Others, she could see their pasts if she was tuned in enough and reached out to see. She preferred not to as it felt like an invasion of privacy and she wouldn't want anyone to see her past. There were times though when she didn't have control of what she saw, the visions would just happen, like last night when she'd touched the scars on his chest. She shook off that disturbing memory.

Maybe the connection was simply that she'd recognised her future, even if it was only a small step away. She had never meet her great grandmother but her father had made sure she knew the woman whose gifts she'd shared; had tried to pass on what he had learned from her - her great grandmother already knowing she would possess these gifts well before her arrival into the world - to help her understand, because that knowing woman had known they would never meet.

The nightmare crept back before her closed eyes and she opened them. She did not want to relive it again. But the ending, that she needed to understand.

Felicity turned away from the door. Without proper guidance or a teacher she'd had to resort to books to help her understand her gifts. Over the years she'd read quite a number of them, but there was only one she truly connected with for interpreting dreams. It had taken her some time to be able to buy it, not only expensive but hard to find, and it sat on the bookshelf with the small select number of others she trusted. She brushed away the tears and found it before she sat on a large soft cushion on the floor.

She had so many questions. Why? Why had she heard Grisha? Why did it feel like he was there? Grisha was dead. Why did she feel the absolute need to scream his name in warning? Who were the other voices in her nightmare, the ones who told her she couldn't hide forever and they were coming for her? For him? She knew who she suspected but given she'd never heard their voices how could she be sure.

The pain increased, her heart felt like it was being torn apart once again and the tears fell. She couldn't stop them and she pushed the book aside. It was too old to risk the tears destroying it. Deciphering the ending of the dream, trying to figure out what next would have to wait. She grabbed a pillow, wrapped her arms around it and buried her head, the closest she could get to being held, and sobbed for the little boy lost to her so long ago as the pain washed over her as fresh as it had been back then.