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Takes place in 1927 BEFORE New York, hence the chapter moving. This one doesn't actually require any real explanation. Shocker. XD Obviously they're in Spain, but that doesn't mean everything's all sunsets and salsa. You'll see. Enjoy.

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Barcelona was beautiful. A cookie-cutter cliché if there ever was one, but there was simply no other way to put it.

The hotel wasn't extravagant. Or expensive, either. It was a simple room, basically furnished, but the truly important part about it was the location.

The hotel sat built into the side of a cliff, overlooking miles of the Balearic sea. At the moment, a quick-fading, fiery sunset of reds and golds was burning on the horizon.

Anya loved everything about it. She smiled to herself and snuck another peek out the window as she unpacked her suitcase. As a child, she'd never been farther than the Crimea, and it would be a joke of mountainlike proportions to assume she'd been anywhere during her years at that run-down orphanage. So this, to her, was incomparable.

She was about to say something to that effect to Dimitri, too, when her thoughts were cut into by that sound again. That stupid dripping sound from the little crack in the roof that had been happening ever since they'd arrived. She'd been in damper conditions than that, but none had been quite this aggravating. It was enough to annoy anyone into a fit.

She tried to let it go. Dimitri, however, was already on edge from the trip. "I hate that ship. Hate. Not dislike. Hate. I'm gonna be having nightmares about that thing for a year. And, I'm sorry---what was that guy's problem? I knew he was insulting me and I don't even speak Spanish. I bet he overcharged us, too."

Anya put another shirt into a drawer. "I thought it was fine. I just hope someone can do something about that leak in the roof," she said lightly.

"I'll get right on it," she heard him mutter. "I mean I know it's no palace, after all."

What? Something about that sounded...bitter. It wasn't like him. She whirled around, glaring at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The sunset was gone, and outside, the wind threw the thin white curtains around with a renewed force. There was a roll of thunder. Dimitri looked at her, but he wouldn't make eye contact. "I mean I didn't realize these awful conditions were that far below your standard," he continued. "I guess I haven't gotten into the Romanov mindset just yet."

"Dimitri..." She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It wasn't fair. "I didn't say that!" Another boom of thunder, and a clap of lightening.

"You implied it."

"How did I---"

A heavy, fast rain began to hit the ground. "No, no. Forget it."

Her anger was fast-growing. It always had been. "Maybe I will!"

"Good!"

She could only stare at him, a 'who-are-you' look on her face. "I can't even be in the same room as you right now," she declared, and she stormed out of the open arched doorway and down the cilffside.

"Enjoy the storm, princess!" he shouted after her. Nothing answered him but a crash of thunder.

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Ignoring the rain, the view, and the fact that she wasn't wearing shoes, Anya trudged down the path of the cliff, passing a few homes and other hotels along the way. The shore was actually a lot like Greece in that respect, but she didn't even think of that.

Her mind was racing. Why is he being like this? Is he mad at me? What for? I should be mad at him! So has he felt like that the whole time? What is going on here?!

The rain was falling harder now. Natives and tourists alike were beginning to clear the streets. Anya was soon the only one left, but she didn't care. She walked on.

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Dimitri tried to keep busy, continuing to put things away, but it wasn't taking his mind off of anything. Finally he gave up, sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. He was yelling at himself in his head, which he understood was probably not healthy.

You. Are. An. Idiot! What did you do that for! You didn't mean any of that. She didn't do anything. You were a jerk. What's the use in unpacking---she probably doesn't even want to stay now.

He sighed, looking up at the doorway. Which was still empty.

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After a while of railing at nobody, Anya sat down on a bench and thought things over. She cast a glance up the cliff to the room she'd left in the distance.

He's wrong, she thought. I don't care about any of that. I don't need palaces and servants---that's ridiculous. Anything he could give me is more than good enough. I love him.

And then something occured to her, and she thought over that last part again.

I love him.

Slowly, an epiphany broadsided her, and her 'he's-a-jerk' thoughts were replaced by 'Anya,-you-idiot' ones. I love him. So what did I do? I stormed out of there without solving anything. He didn't mean it, I know him. I didn't even see what was wrong or....

She sighed, and stood up, heading back the way she came. I really need to get better at this.

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Dimitri had stopped yelling at himself silently and was now arguing with himself silently.

You have to go find her. That storm is only going to get worse. God knows where she is by now. If I were her I would've caught the first boat outta here. Or---no. No. If she wants to come back tonight, she'll come back on her own. Ah, who are you kidding....

He stood up and started for the doorway. He would find her if it took all night.

Fortunately, though, he didn't have to.

Another figure beat him to it. She was soaked, her tangled, wet hair pulled over her shoulder, leaning against the doorframe. Head tilted, a soft smile on her face, she gave him the same look a Golden Retriever would.

Thay both just looked at each other for a second. Anya was the first to speak. "So. The whole 'fighting' thing. Not really for us, is it?" she said, stepping into the room a bit.

Dimitri gave her a smile in return. He moved in her direction. "Eh, we gave it our best shot," he agreed. Just seeing her made him forget everything else. "Anya," he began, "I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that."

She wanted to forget everything, too, but she wasn't about to let him off that easy. Not without solving anything---not without doing it right. "What did you mean?"

"I don't know. I was annoyed with everything, not that that's an excuse, but...." He sighed. "I don't ever want you to feel like you settled for me. I can't give you everything. I wish I could. I just...don't want you to be always looking over your shoulder. I don't want you to regret anything."

Anya had no idea he'd ever even thought of that. She was quick to set him straight. "Dimitri. I don't care about anything like that. I left all of that."

"Because you're insane?" he grinned.

She stepped forward, and draped her arms over his shoulders. "Because I love you. And that's something I'm never gonna regret." She paused for emphasis, then added, "Now---are you gonna kiss me, or do I have to go out there again?"

"Don't have to tell me twice," he laughed, and did as he was told. Wouldn't be wise to disobey a royal.

It seemed ironic, but no joke, it was then that the storm clouds broke, and the rain over Barcelona ceased to exist.

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Hope you liked our little trip to Spain! I was a little nervous about some of you hating me after this one (not literally of course), because I'd never actually written them getting into a serious fight before. (Well, except right before the war.) But I had to do this as the reason why they don't fight, you see? Plus, it was fun. :D Next one coming soon!