My earlier conversation with Lissa about knowing better than seducing my new partner came back to me. Damn it. Why did irony have to be such a bitch? I should save myself the trouble and staple my lips together.

I had no idea how to react.

It was one of those rare moments that I, Rose Hathaway, was completely lost in how to proceed as I stared at Dimitri, my former-teacher-turned-lover-turned-FBI-consultant. I had to gamble on my options here. I could ignore the vicious voices screaming in my head to punch him and be polite, shake his hand diplomatically, leaving the past behind us to start anew as comrades once again. Yeah. That was one option. Unfortunately, hell would freeze over before that happened. I wasn't the type to swallow my pride and pretend everything was fine when I wanted to break his kneecaps like my missing, mobster father.

My second brilliant idea was to turn on him now and see if the student had surpassed the teacher in hand-to-hand combat. A black eye wouldn't mess up his pretty face too badly, but it would prove a point not to show up after kicking him out of my life. I had a feeling though that if Mia was worried about my clothes in front of the new guy, she'd go into cardiac arrest if I attacked him. I was too closely attached to my newest case to risk getting fired, my grudge against Dimitri notwithstanding.

The third option was not dealing with him at all. Now, was that the best thing to do? I didn't know. Would it even make a difference? I didn't know that either. All I knew was that with everything else running around in my head, the last thing I needed was my heart to be in chaos, too. Already those locked up feelings I associated with him were beginning to surface again, bursting in my chest in waves. Longing. Elation. Sadness. Anger. God, why did everything have to be so complicated? Because this is life. Nothing's easy, a small voice whispered. I kind of wanted to shoot that voice.

Clinging onto my last resort, I tried to suppress my anger- at Dimitri, her, the world- and focused on Mia, refusing to look at him. I had to admit that was easier said than done. He cleaned up well and had gone all-out today. Not only had he shaved and done his hair, but he was wearing the standard men-in-black suit that screamed FBI agent. On him, it was devastating. I'd only seen him in it a handful of times yet the impact, unfortunately for me, was the same.

I did a good act of feigning ignorance though.

"Yeah. We've met," I told her, trying to keep the stiffness from my voice. It only partially worked. "Look, I've got to go talk to Mase."

Mia looked puzzled at my vexation. She knew about him being my teacher and probably expected me to run into Dimitri's arms like I had Mark. If only. Composing herself, she said, "Rose, don't you think-"

"Sorry, I'm in a bit of a rush," I cut her off, already turning my back on them. I seriously needed to get out of here. His presence was all but suffocating me. Or that could just be the after shave again. Relying on an old trick of mine, I threw a standard Rose line over my shoulder as a scapegoat as I half-jogged off. "Ring me up when you're done recruiting foreign labor, Mia."

"Rose!" she exclaimed harshly, but I ignored her and kept going. I could hear her quickly apologizing for my behavior, telling Dimitri my latest case had me under a lot of stress. Dimitri, recovering from his shock in that warrior-like way of his, assured her it was fine and he understood. I snorted. Like hell he understood. He was just playing professional like Mia. I checked my phone but, as expected, Sydney had hung up.

I swung the door into my branch, Mason glancing up and immediately recognizing my pissed-off look. "Uh-oh. What happened? They run of mochas?"

I shot him a look. "I wish that was all there was." My head was still reeling. Dimitri. Dimitri was here. How? Why? Damn, damn, damn- my word of the day. This was not supposed to happen. Setting down my coffee, I ripped my blazer off the back of chair, shoving my arms into the sleeves. Like in the car, I needed distraction before I ended up socking someone or putting a dent in the wall. Luckily, there was an ace up my sleeve this time that'd spare the collateral damage. "Don't worry about it right now. We're up, partner."

He looked pleasantly surprised. "Where are we going?"

"Prison to interrogate Dashkov. If my theory's right then-"

Before I could take two steps, a tiny whirlwind stormed into the office. It was a wonder papers didn't get caught up in the hurricane-like frenzy. I forgot how different Mia looked when she was angry. And boy, was she angry. She leveled her gaze on me, like a missal finding its target. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mason shrink back, not about to get tangled into the match. My hero. "Rose," Mia warned, her voice pitched low. "Do you care to explain what in the living hell you just did?"

Disbelief shot through me. "Me? How could you blame this on me?"

"'Foreign labor'?" she quoted. Okay, that hadn't been one of my finer moments. It clearly hadn't gotten me out unscathed either. "Are you trying to get me fired?"

I didn't know where it came from, but my temper flared up. Sure, it was trigger-happy at times but the sharpness in my voice even surprised me. "Hey, you cannot pin all of this on me. First you jump me with the crime scene last night, now this?" I reprimanded, the bite in my words unmistakable. I knew it wasn't exactly fair to pile all the blame on her, but really, she could have given me a heads-up. Between that, my current lack of sleep, and my pent-up frustration with Dashkov and Dimitri...well. I would have snapped at just about anyone.

Mia's eyes hardened, her blue orbs turning to ice. Despite my lashing out at her, I realized she did feel bad about springing the surprise attacks- but not bad enough to back down. "Look, I'm sorry about last night, but you knew he was coming-"

"No," I cut her off pointedly, "you told me a higher-up was coming, you never once said his name. Christ, Mia, do you want me to die from a stroke?" I sighed, trying to shove my temper down. All of Dimitri's lessons and lectures on self-control came back to me, despite the fact his appearance is what was making me lose it now. It was almost funny. Almost. "Forget it. I don't have time for this. Where's your Prince Charming?"

"Mark and Alberta are wrapping up the tour," she informed me, her tone still laced with disapproval. Oh man. I'd forgotten about Alberta. She normally wasn't one for sanctioning me like Kirova or Mia but there was a first time for everything. Even though Mia was still put-out with me, I could see that curious, detective-worthy glint return to her eyes as she crossed her arms. "So where are you going that's so urgent?"

"I might have a break in the case," I told her truthfully, not about to go into the whole my-friend-assassin-might-have-put-in-a-tip thing. I clipped my badge onto my belt. "I'm going to visit Dashkov in jail and see if I can get answers out of him."

Mia, detouring down an entirely different road, exclaimed, "That's all of this is about? Rose, I don't want you anywhere near him!"

Now I was the one staring at her, starstruck. That was not the reaction I was expecting. "What are you talking about? I'm working the case and all the arrows are pointing to Dashkov."

"He's luring you out!" she said, piecing together what Sydney and I already had. I shouldn't have been surprised. She wasn't a rank above me for nothing. "And you're going to go right into his nest?"

"I'm not about to run away," I argued.

"He made you a victim, you're not a cop right now!"

I was on the brink of a snappy retort when the words died on my lips. He made you a victim.

It clicked together. Looking at her fierce air, I realized the reason for her sudden protectiveness. It didn't stem from her wanting to hinder my case as payback for the set-back with Dimitri- Mia was above that sort of thing. Besides, it technically was her case, too. She wasn't an idiot. No, it was because...

"What are you doing, Hathaway?" Mia asked desperately, her voice scared enough to rival my fear as she bent down to examine the damage. I was shaking, in physical shock, unable to process anything except the pain in my hands and neck.

Victor. What had happened to Victor? When I'd woken up from being knocked out cold, it was to find his haughty, smiling face over me, pressing a scalpel at my throat. There were already two in my hands, driving through them into the floor. He was cooing sweet things to me, trying to reason and calm me.

Pain. So much pain. That same agony was slowly being dragged against my throat, the adrenaline pumping through me vainly rushing to numb it.

Then, like a switch, it stopped. There was a gunshot and Victor vanished from my line of view. Now Mia's face was the only one I saw, eclipsing the faint, basement light. I was whimpering, making incoherent mumbles as she cupped my cheek, forcing me to look at her. "Focus, Rose, hang in there. Everything's fine now. Everything's fine. I'm here."

I don't know why, but through my haze, I remember clinging on and having faith in those cliché assurances. A lot more than I did Victor's.

Mason hadn't always been my partner. Originally, it was Mia, before Mason joined the tag team. Originally, Mia was my partner. And she had been the one to save me from Dashkov.

"You're right," I said.

"I... what?"

I smiled. She wasn't used to me agreeing with something reasonable. "You're right, I am a victim. But that's why I have to do this. It should be good for me, you know? Facing my fear and everything. Besides, I want to put this apprentice or copycat or whatever behind bars. I won't let him play this same game with me again."

Mia was still at a loss for words. I stepped forward. "Don't worry. This isn't like last time." I put back on my flippant air to back up my words. "By tomorrow we'll solve everything, kick this guy's ass, and then celebrate with our usual Tuesday rounds at the bar."

A smile crept onto her face, despite herself. "When'd you get so cocky? Don't forget you're still buying."

"Yeah, yeah," I waved her off. "That's assuming I don't win the bet on the Jet's game. Then you're going to be ringing up my beers all night."

She rolled her eyes, but I could see some of that concerned edge ebb away. "Right. Well I still have to deal with leads to finding Gabrielle. Check in to see if you get Dashkov to talk and then follow up with Lissa to see if she got anything from Colbe."

I made a mock salute with two fingers. "Coming right up, Mia." I glanced back at Mason. "Go ahead of me, I'll check in with Liss before we head out and clear it out of the way."

Lissa was well under way with the autopsy when I arrived. She probably wasn't expecting visitors, seeing as she was on the floor under the main one and clad in scrubs and a faceshield. "Attractive," I noted as she glanced up.

"Are you talking to me or him?" she asked wryly, nodding to the body.

"Both, but mostly you." I walked in, unable to not feel a little creeped out by the sterile walls and gray metal tables. It boggled my mind that she sought out and earnestly enjoyed this job. The whole setting screamed horror movie to me. "Got anything?"

She shook her head, grimacing. "Just that the width and precision of the cut matches Dashkov's scalpels."

"He should come out with his own line. I bet it'd be a best seller."

"I highly doubt that." She studied me for a second, her eyes not missing a beat. "You're keyed-up pretty badly. Jaw line's tense," she added when I opened my mouth to ask how she could tell. Some days she could practically read my mind. "What happened?"

I sighed. "Long story. I'll fill you in later. Right now Mase is waiting for me, I just thought I'd check in."

"Sorry I don't have more," Lissa said. "I'll call you if anything new comes up."

"I'm counting on it," I said gallantly, pushing back out the door and taking the elevator back up the main lobby. It was primarily empty this time a day, the security officer at the scanner looking bored to death and probably contemplating bailing. I wouldn't blame him if he did. I barely took ten steps before a familiar, accented voice stopped me.

"Rose," Dimitri called, catching my wrist from behind. Electricity crackled at the contact, completely blindsiding me. Oh come on. I was supposed to be mad at him, not ramped up at the slightest touch. I had a feeling we'd still be sexually charged around each other even if we bumped into each other at the North Pole 50 years from now.

By the wince and brief flash of regret across his face as he dropped his hold, I knew he'd experience the same thing I had. A part of me couldn't stand that regret, but it got outvoted. Mostly because I regretted it, too. At least he had stopped me as intended, which was quite a feat.

What it didn't stop was my anger from returning as I remembered our current position. "What are you doing here?" I demanded before Dimitri could put in a word, trying not to hiss the question. And by "here" I meant the Northeast, not the police department. "Last I checked, you were in New Orleans!"

I realized I slipped too late. He got a funny look on his face at the mention of me checking in on his location, but of course didn't pursue it. Like Sydney, he knew when to switch to neutral, business mode. This called for it. He shut down all his emotions- something that drove me crazy (and not in a good way)- simply saying, "I was reassigned here. They wanted more FBI presence in the area for the growing Strigoi problem and in the meantime, want me to work with the police department to help in cases that could be connected."

I scowled. I forgot how much his logic made sense. My roundabout Rose logic wouldn't work here. The Strigoi were a gang running rampant around the small state, like a mini, Boston-accented Mafia. The way they were spreading was a constant concern and called for big guns. In that sense, Dimitri was probably the most qualified person they could recruit. Still out of everyone in the damn country, why did it have to be him working with my unit? That was a sick twist of fate if I'd ever heard of one.

"I didn't know you were here," Dimitri added after that brief lapse of silence, seeming to think it was a point worth mentioning. It at least explained his mirror shock back in the hallway. He probably thought he was seeing a ghost.

"This case isn't connected to the Strigoi," I finally replied, out of witty comebacks. If he was going to play tactical, then so was I. "Victor Dashkov doesn't get involved in that sort of thing. He's just a monster-under-the-bed serial killer." One I got to meet up close and personal.

He shrugged. "Like I said, I'm still assigned to help. And who knows for sure? Word gets around and people meet. He could very well be involved with them."

I didn't bother pointing out the fault in Dimitri's logic. One, Victor was borderline on 40, not to mention insanity. That wasn't exactly gangbanger material. Two... well, I knew him. It made me sick to my stomach to admit, but if there was anyone that could guess his next moves, it was me. Being in league with Strigoi wasn't on Victor's agenda. He wanted power, and he certainly wasn't about to share it with a group of delinquents.

Again, I didn't bother saying it to trump Dimitri's theory. He'd figure it out eventually.

"Have you read the case files?" I inquired, hands on hips.

He shook his head. "Not yet. Things have been... hectic."

He was singing to the choir. I didn't know whether to be relieved or distressed he wasn't in the loop. Obviously, he wasn't aware of my full connection with Victor yet. But like his failed idea about Dashkov joining the ranks of gang-hood, he would come to realize that, too. It was all a matter of time. Too bad my timing always seemed to suck lately. "Yeah, well, it hasn't exactly been a walk in the park for me either. Just stay on the sidelines for this match and I'll deal with the hard stuff, comrade."

He smiled faintly at the use of the old nickname. It had come without a second thought to me and the replying smile still made my breath catch in my throat. I guess time couldn't change some things. "Yes, general," he said.

Heat warmed up between us and I suddenly became aware of our proximity. He was standing; close. Really close. Way more than I'd originally thought. He came to the same realization, and in sync with my thoughts, stepped back. He put on his blank mask again. I repressed an internal sigh, running a hand through my hair. Yeah. Some things never would change. "Well now that that's clear, I'm heading off. We'll deal with whatever this mess is later."

"I'm coming with you."

I looked at him, surprised. "Whoa, whoa, you ranked me general just now. Last I checked, officers can't go against a direct order."

"And last I checked, we weren't exactly ones to play by the rules," he replied. I think I was the only one to catch the double-meaning behind his words, but that was definitely not a topic I was willing to go into at the moment.

Reluctantly, I gave in. Mia wanted me to play nice, so I grudgingly had to comply. I was going to kick myself for this later. "Fine. But I'm driving."

Hopping down the building's steps with Dimitri in tow, I saw Mason already leaning against my car, waiting while his ancient dinosaur rumbled behind my Chevrolet. Normally he drove with me, but guessed ahead that we'd have extra company this time, flashing his typical grin. Cocky bastard.

I popped open the door, slipping in. I was off to visit my personal Boogie Man with my recently-reunited ex teacher and one-night-stand.

What could go wrong?

Good lord, I can't believe I haven't updated in a month. Time certainly flies. I'll get the next chapter up waaay sooner; thanks for sticking with me this long. You guys are awesome. Hopefully it'll be worth it for when Rose goes face-to-face with Victor again~ Reviews always make me smile ;D