Ersken was itching to get back to the kennel. It took every ounce of self-control in his possession to not sprint for Jane Street when the rumors reached him that the Rogue had killed the Terrier. He didn't believe it, not for a second. Rosto the Piper was dangerous, but he simply couldn't kill Beka. His evening watch was a seemingly endless parade of drunken coves and fistfights. The rain had driven home most of the drunkards now but not before one of them managed to get a good shot on his partner. Ersken was not proud to admit he was relieved when his partners broken arm gave them an excuse to return to the Kennel so he could see for his own eyes that she was alive.

Back at Jane Street, Ersken's partner was led off to be treated and Ersken asked the healers how Beka was doing. They led him over to her and told him that she was stable even though she had not regained consciousness yet. Once his partner was taken care of he headed for home. To his surprise Kora was still awake when he arrived. As soon as he entered she ran up to him.

"Was Rosto there, in the infirmary?"

Ersken paused, "If the holes i the wall next to her cot are any indication, than yes, he must have been there earlier. Why, he clearly knew better than to linger."

"Apparently not, he didn't return to the dove. You don't think the Dogs would have..."

This was not exactly the homecoming that he had hoped for soaking wet, chilled and exhausted from the days watch. Ersken sighed, "All right, I'll check," he said kissing her on the cheek.

When Ersken returned to the kennel he asked if any progress had been made on finding Beka's attacker.

"Oh yeah, they got him. Cove tried to finish the job during the night, but some of the cage dogs got him first."

"How long ago was this?"

"Not a half an hour before night watch left." Ersken turned, jaw clenched towards the cages. How much damage could they do in nearly an hour?

In the cages, Ersken found Rosto enjoying the company of some half a dozen cage Dogs. Hobbles were twisted around his arms and legs in several places, the ropes tight enough to leave red rings on his pale skin. Apparently they no longer trusted that a single bind would hold him. Bruises were already blooming on his skin and blood stained clothing indicated that they had not restricted themselves to fists. His clothes and hair were dry, though, so they hadn't given him the drink yet.

Ersken was outnumbered, but he stepped forward "What are the charges?"

"He is guilty of attempted murder and assault on seven of our own!"

"Guilty? Who are you the Lord Provost? And what seven?"

"Cooper and the six of us that brought him in."

"It took six dogs to bring him in?" Ersken asked, momentarily distracted from his task.

Finally Rosto looked up a tiny smirk on his lips. "I can assure you that if murder had actually been... attempted I would not be here." His voice was slightly ragged but his dark sense of humor remained quite intact.

Ersken shot a look at Rosto that clearly said 'Stop helping' before turning his glare on the Dogs. "You can make your case before Goodwin in the morning. For now, he is coming with me. Unless you would like to try and stop me and I will come back with her in a few minutes?"

The dogs glanced at each other. Making the Desk Sergeant come down to the cages for a disciplinary issue in the middle of the night was not a great way to keep a job...

Rosto was grudgingly released and they made their way back to the Dove.

"Are you incapable of staying out of trouble for a few hours?" Ersken asked.

"Beka would be very upset with you, Ersken, she'd tell you I probably deserved it for somethin'," Rosto commented.

"Don't tempt me!" Ersken laughed, "I should be asleep right now with a gorgeous mot to keep me warm... not hauling you outta the cages. You owe me, Rogue, for getting there before they ruined that pretty boy face of yours."

"Much obliged," Rosto responded, "That would have been tragic for everyone."

Several hours, a few bandages, and half a jar of bruise balm later, he returned to the infirmary. It was foolish, or so Aniki warned him emphatically, but he needed to see her wake, needed to be sure that she was safe. Besides with only a few dogs on duty here it was easy enough to get in. Night watch wouldn't be back for hours and as long as he didn't try to leave during a watch change he was unlikely to be noticed. He sank down next to Beka's cot with a sigh. She was less pale than she had been earlier, but she had not yet woken.

The hours dragged by but Rosto felt no desire to sleep, he wasn't convinced that she was safe here anyway, and was quite certain that he wasn't. He snuck back outside once to look over the various entrances to the infirmary. It was raining; good weather for anyone else trying to sneak in tonight. Everything was calm though and Rosto returned to Beka's cot. He pulled out the blade that Goodwin had given him earlier, still coated in the dark red of her blood, cleaning it carefully as he waited for Beka to wake.

He hadn't learned anything in the last few hours thanks to the distractions of the cage dogs. While he was no stranger to the cages, his position normally afforded him some level of safety. The cage dogs knew the instability that could be caused by giving the Rogue too much trouble. But nearly as soon as they had hobbled him inside the cages, however, he realized something was different this time. There were no questions, only fists and batons and blades. As Rosto's vengeful streak was something of common knowledge, the severity of the dogs attacks made him realize something that he had not anticipated; The dogs did not expect him to escape the cages alive this time. At the time, Rosto had not had much energy to spare thinking about what was different, but now he considered the question. Possibly they thought that no one would look too hard into the death of an attempted dog killer, even if it was the Rogue.

Eventually Beka began to stir and her eyes opened. She looked disoriented as she woke in the dark unfamiliar surroundings and he leaned towards her. "You're safe, Beka," Rosto told her, taking one of her hands, "safe, in the dogs infirmary."

"Don't let them see you goin' soft, pretty-boy," Beka murmured pulling her hand away and trying to sit up.

He laughed. He wasn't certain if it was actually funny or if relief had made him slightly giddy. "Don't you worry after my reputation. Since no one knows I am here, it is quite safe."

She looked up at him for the first time. He was soaked from the rain outside, and his hair hung in thick clumps around his face. Her eyes widened at the sight and she reached for one of the wet strands, as if to push it from his face. She muttered something under her breath that sounded like an apology. Rosto didn't know exactly what was happening but he did not move. Beka initiating physical contact that did not bruise was a rare enough thing that he had no intention of stopping her. Suddenly, with her hand only a breath away from his face she jolted, as if woken from a dream, terror filling her eyes and voice.. "Are you all right...You're drenched, Rosto!"

"It's raining, Beka," Rosto told her, thoroughly confused. "It's just rain..."

"What are you doing here, it must be late?" She changed the subject rapidly.

Rosto watched her for a moment before continuing, still trying to understand her bizarre outburst. "Technically it's early... If I can sneak in when they think I'm trying to kill you...I don't exactly trust that someone else couldn't do the same."

"I got him twice. He's down for a while."

Rosto nodded. "I know, I'm impressed. Good Dog."

Beka clenched her teeth "Don't mock me, Rosto."

"Oh don't bite, puppy, I really was impressed! You figured out my weighting system."

"Your weighting?"

"Let me tell you a secret." He pulled out a dagger and handed it to her. It was a beautiful weapon, thin enough to be nearly invisible under clothing but strong and sharp enough to do plenty of damage. She looked up at him in confusion. He never let anyone handle his weapons except Aniki. As she took it she noticed that this blade too was ever so slightly off balance, though not quite in the same way as the other blade had been.

"It was one of yours?"

He nodded, "I still don't know how he got it."

"...and he didn't notice," she marveled.

Rosto smiled, "that is the idea."

Beka turned the blade over in her hands, reluctant to return it. "I've never seen anything quite like it...was it your idea?"

"The balance?"

She nodded, reluctantly handing the weapon back to Rosto.

"Of course. A perfectly balanced blade is far to easier to throw. Since I plan on being the most skilled in any room, why design weapons that anyone can use?"

"He introduced himself with your name...Did I tell you that?" Her voice was tired, but there was still a manic energy in it. "And he said he had family here, but I don't think he was telling the truth."

"Probably not," Rosto, responded, returning the blade to its sheath. "I certainly don't have any family that would drop in for a quick killing spree. Neither do Aniki or Kora."

"... told me I had a 'reputation for causing trouble'," Beka continued grumpily.

"That you do, love." Rosto laughed as another piece dropped into place. That's why he hadn't bothered with Beka's family. The man didn't want the Terrier bothering him once he was Rogue. Two birds, so to speak.

"Don't call me love," Beka retorted.

He ignored her and continued, "You may have just met a contender for my throne." Aniki would be a problem for him too, and possibly Kora...if he was truly trying to take care of these kind of obstacles before an official challenge, both will be on his list.

"He wanted the dogs to kill you so he wouldn't have to..." She commented, understanding dawning. Then something occurred to her and she looked up at him with surprise. "You saved my life, Rosto, I -"

"Of course," he interrupted "No one messes with my puppy!"

"I am not your puppy," she responded indignantly, a spark of life returning to tired eyes.

"That's true, you were promoted; I apologize." He smirked, apologizing for the nickname but not the possessive was a sure way to get injured.

Beka smiled, but her eyes were far away now. His heart soared as he thought, I wonder what she would do if I…that wouldn't be fair, she's probably drugged anyway.

Beka wasn't drugged, but still her mind was starting to wander. She was having a conversation; it all seemed so normal, so real but...not quite. She watched Rosto, acutely aware of the droplets of rain still clinging to his face and the way his hair stuck to his skin in tendrils.

Suddenly she wondered if she was dreaming.

Maybe no one had come. She didn't remember coming here, didn't remember any healers talking to her... Wasn't this all just a little too clean? Rosto happening upon an abandoned warehouse just in the nick of time...Terror crept into the crevices of her mind. Was it possible, is that why things felt so strange? Could she still be unconscious on the floor of that warehouse, a fantasy of recovery to comfort her?

Rosto watched as her eyes grew cold and distant, but that wasn't all. There was something else, something that looked like fear.

And then suddenly Beka was pulled back to the present. Rosto was kissing her. He tasted like rainwater and salt and something slightly metallic. She didn't punch him, she was too tired and his lips were so warm and solid, so real. It grounded her, reassured her that she was still alive, that she was not caught in a dream, dying alone on the floor of a warehouse.

Rosto smirked mischievously as he pulled away; unaware of how desperately Beka had needed the contact. His hand remained on the back of her neck, though, a lifeline neither of them was fully aware she needed. He gently touched the strands of hair that had come loose from her braid.

"Please don't scare me like that, love," he said. "I can't think straight when you're off trying to get yourself killed."

"Not trying," she responded, her eyelids falling closed despite her best efforts to stay awake. "Sleepy-"

"Go to sleep, love. Your safe here."

She didn't respond, and as Beka closed her eyes Rosto finished cleaning her blood from the challenger's blade and returned it to its sheath, now a permanent addition to his belt.

Just as he was beginning to think he should leave before night watch returned, a dark creature jumped up onto Beka's bed. Rosto jumped in surprise. Pox rot, he thought, if anyone had seen that i'dve had to be rid of them... He looked at the cat curiously for a moment as it curled up at Beka's feet, doing it's best to look thoroughly unremarkable.

"Couldn't you just heal her on your own?" Rosto wondered out loud.

If I were permitted to I would have done so, Pounce responded.

"Are you at least going to tell me who did this?" Rosto asked. It felt far less like he was loosing his mind now that he could at least see the source of that voice.

Of course not, I'm already in enough trouble.

"Course not... Well, thank you for bringing me to her."

You were admittedly, not my first choice, Pounce commented and Rosto did his best not to look offended. Don't be vain; you may not have noticed but having you there created some minor complications. Rosto glanced down at the wound on his arm as Pounce continued. But it turns out most people try to avoid things that they don't understand. They don't listen. So thank you for listening, she still has work to do.

"That's a rather cold way of looking at it." Rosto said leaning back and eyeing the cat disapprovingly.

From your perspective it must seem so. Anyway, you may go, Piper. Night watch will be back soon with someone for the infirmary. You should not be here when they arrive.

Rosto nodded and left the infirmary back out into the rain, still wondering why the sight of his hair damp with rain had so terrified Beka.

Pounce crawled slowly up toward Beka's face. He's gone, you coward, you can stop pretending to sleep.

One eye cracked open and she smiled at the cat. "It did keep him from saying anything else, didn't it?"

Mrt Pounce laughed. An empty warehouse following an unknown person when you are off duty and alone and you charge right in. A conversation with a man you have known for years and just saved your life...that is terrifying.

"I'm no coward," Beka yawned, legitimately tired now, "but nothing has changed, Pounce. I'm still a dog, he's still the Rogue. I can't have the conversation that he wants to have."