A/N: Prior to Andrei's reunion with Kim at the funeral, the entire American Congress had been shot to death by Russian terrorists. Andrei's boss had witnessed the gruesome scene shortly after it had happened and, unable to take it, had committed suicide. Andrei himself then walked into the carnage and found his boss lying dead along with the others.

The journey back to the apartment was mostly silent. Every time one of them attempted small talk, the conversation seemed to fall flat. Kim began to wonder whether she was doing the right thing. Did she really love Andrei, or was she simply afraid of being alone?

At the apartment she walked into the bedroom and immediately felt like she had returned home. Andrei's luxurious apartment was ever so much nicer than the ramshackle holes in the wall inhabited by the vagabond outlaw actors and actresses who had been reduced to squatters. A twinge of guilt went through her, but it only lasted a second. Her love for Andrei was greater than her empathy for them. Whether that was right or wrong, it was true. She knew that she was no saint, no martyr. She was just looking out for her own best interests like everyone else was. Most people, anyway.

She didn't realize that Andrei had followed her into the bedroom until he was throwing her onto the bed roughly.

"Don't you ever run away from me again!" he growled. She was frightened for just a moment, then felt his kisses covering her face and realized that it was just one of his games, another attempt at oneupmanship in the invisible power struggle they seemed to keep perpetually running.

They quickly shed each article of clothing until it was all lying in a careless jumble by the side of the bed. She gasped as he entered her, and they both began to thrust madly, moaning and grunting, hungry for one another, utterly insatiable. She cried out as she came, feeling him touch her deep inside in ways that brought her immense pleasure, and he came barely a moment later, driven to heights of ecstasy by the sensation of her muscles holding him snugly, clinching and releasing rhythmically.

"What made you want to hear my voice again?" she asked a few minutes later.

"They were all dead. Every single one of them." Andrei's voice was heavy with despair. "My boss too. Shot through the head...I cannot lie to you, Kimberly. He wasn't shot by a stray bullet. He killed himself. He saw the same thing I did and it drove him crazy."

"Who are all dead?"

"The Congressmen of your nation. Rogue elements of my country murdered them. We can no longer control them. They think they are doing us a favor, making things easier for us."

"Oh no, Andrei." Kim felt as if all the air had just been knocked out of her. She could only imagine the horror Andrei had witnessed. No wonder he had turned to her for comfort, even after she had chosen the resistance over him.

"I loved him like a father, Kimberly." Andrei's voice was choked with grief.

Gently she swept the damp brown curls back from his forehead. He didn't respond but only glanced at her fleetingly before closing his eyes. Softly she sang to him, the same song he had begged her to sing to him over the phone. "Try to remember...and if you remember...then follow..."

The only thing she had heard had been the dial tone as he had hung the phone up while she was singing to him. She hadn't seen the agony in his eyes, didn't realize the horror of what he had just witnessed.