G.I. Joe, that is Guardian Black, turned out to be a lot more pleasant than I had expected. His initial pompous air gave way after about a week of verbally and physically humbling him. I initiated a special training regime exclusively for Lissa's guard. It was good for us to familiarize ourselves with the strengths and weaknesses of those we worked with. What better way to do that then to train each other? Due to Dimitri's questionable status as a Guardian, he was excluded from these training sessions. That, however, did not stop him from showing up and watching, much to my dismay.

As the lead Guardian, it was up to me to lead the exercises that ensured we were in peak physical condition. However, since we took shifts guarding Lissa, I couldn't always be there, and so I delegated to G.I. Joe., who's first name, by the way, was Patrick. This inevitably led to a string of Leprechaun jokes that eventually led to the beginnings of a cordial working relationship. I wouldn't have used the word friends to describe us, but he had a good sense of humor, listened well and wasn't hard on the eyes. I could have done worse in finding a primary guarding partner.

But he wasn't Dimitri. It was the one thing that held me back from becoming too friendly. Patrick was a replacement. He was an amazing guardian, but he was not a God. If things had gone the way they should have, Patrick would be at some other high-ranking assignment instead of serving as a constant reminder to me just how insane my life had become.

I tried to forget this as I walked into the gym to lead a workout. I was greeted by five guardians: Black, Rozanov, Kavak, Pavel, and Willet. Kavak was Turkish, which made for interesting conversation and allowed me to learn about some of my cultural roots. The parts about Islam were especially interesting, as I had been brought up as a highly cynical Catholic. Kavak said that he did not practice Islam, but had a cultural respect for it, which I could agree with.

Willet had a special dislike for me. Before my arrival, Amélie Willet was the only woman on the guard, and apparently she preferred it that way. She was about four inches taller than me, which was unusual for a dhampir woman. She was also very French. She came from an academy somewhere in the south of France, called St. Joan of Arc's Academy. It was always surprising for me to hear about other schools besides St. Vladimir's, like when I had found out about St. Basil's in Russia. However, a look at each Guardian's file showed me that no guardian came from the same school. St. Vlad's wasn't even the biggest one, though it was where most of the Royals sent their children, which I later realized was why my mother sent me there instead of a school closer to her. She had wanted me to receive the best education surrounded by our society's elite, so that one day I could guard one of them.

Today, however, I had much bigger things to tackle than figuring out my relationship with my mother, because today as I walked in, I spotted Amélie speaking with Dimitri, and they were both laughing. I hadn't heard the joke, but it wouldn't have mattered. They were both speaking in Russian. Of course she spoke Russian. Of course. Amélie said something else loud enough for Rozanov to hear as well and both he and Dimitri busted out laughing once more. What was worse, what my intense jealousy had prevented from me noticing immediately, was that Dimitri was dressed to work out. It was moments like these that I considered if maybe the Islamic god would be nicer than the Catholic god. Or maybe they were different interpretations of the same guy and I was screwed either way. Fucking perfect.

"Start warming up." I called out a little more harshly than I had intended. Dimitri and Amélie broke off with the group and began stretching and jogging to loosen their muscles. I couldn't help but watch Dimitri with a close eye. The way his body moved so gracefully. Only he could make stretching a groin look sexy-

"Guardian Hathaway?" It was Patrick. He and Rozanov had finished warming up and were waiting for further instruction. They looked at me expectantly, noticing how intently I had been watching Dimitri.

"Sorry. I was distracted." I muttered, trying to brush off my own discomfort. I needed to be the boss, and I was acting like a love struck schoolgirl.

"It's understandable. He just got clearance from Hans to train with us. I'm not sure if it's the best idea either." I sighed in relief, which I'm sure was translated as a sigh of disdain. I was glad there was at least someone in my life that couldn't read my every thought. I took one more wistful glance at Dimitri, which was shockingly met by his gaze. He had looked up from stretching his calf muscles and locked eyes with me. Embarrassed that I had been caught staring, I tore my eyes away, but not fast enough. He had seen me gazing at him. Weak.

"I'm sure he will be no trouble at all." I turned my head back to face the rest of the Guardians and ordered them to hit the track for 100 laps, and then incentivized hard work (which was somewhat unnecessary) by saying the first two to finish would spar in front of the group. I also joined them on the track. Just because I was giving the orders did not mean I would be relaxed in my own training. I had to continue to earn the right to give the orders, after all.

Months and months of training with Dimitri had left me with a deep understanding of the importance of running. I worked it into every training session, but today, with so much distracting me, I had based the entire workout on running. I had a lot to work through. Thanks to Dimitri's extensive training in running, I was also the fastest runner. It wasn't by much, but I was usually able to at least lap Kavak who despite his long stride, was not built for long distance. We started on my mark, and immediately I pushed my way to the front, preferring to look at open track rather than the backs of my fellow Guardians. Except I had forgotten one thing, or person rather.

Dimitri.

In my time at the Academy, I had never been able to quite keep pace with Dimitri. It was an unfair matching really, as one of his steps was equal to two of mine. However, this was not the Academy any more and I had kept myself in excellent condition since those days, continuing to push myself in my running.

This led to the awkward realization that Dimitri and I were at a matched pace, running along side each other. I tried speeding my pace, but he kept pace with me, even drawing a little bit ahead. This was obviously infuriating, and so I pushed myself harder. This continued until both of us were at a full sprint by lap 45. I didn't know how long I could sustain a sprint until lap 71 when Dimitri came to a complete stop. I kept going until I realized he had fallen behind and stopped as well. He started to walk at a leisurely pace. I felt my brow furrow in confusion, but the burning in my chest wouldn't allow me to puzzle out what was happening. I shrugged and continued on at a sprint.

When I finished, I was astounded to find that the rest of the Guardians were at lap 89, with Amélie in the lead. Dimitri had walked for a little bit longer and then continued at a brisk jog. The group quickly caught up with him and I watched Amélie overtake him with a small smirk. She was a competitor at heart. He kept pace with her, never allowing any other Guardians to catch up, but never overtaking her, which I knew he could easily do.

Then it dawned on me. First and second spar in front of the group. Dimitri was avoiding sparring with me. He had realized midway through that we would have had to spar if we had kept the pace we were going. I felt my chest tighten at the thought. He was letting Amélie win.

Half of me was furious, the other half was grateful. While I hardly wanted to spar with Dimitri in front of everyone, it made me angry that he was sacrificing the integrity of his training because of me. It was cowardly, but could I say I would do any differently?

Amélie won the second spot with ease, and within ten minutes, we were on the mats, circling each other. Stifling my mixed emotions, I focused on the target. Her stance was even and firm, her movements quick and efficient. However, Amélie hated me, making her more likely to go on the offensive.

There it was. The first jab. I knocked it away with ease, noting that it was aimed a little higher than it should have been. I countered with a low kick that caused her to stumble slightly, which was enough for me to try to knock her down and pin her, but she resisted the pin, barely managing to throw me off of her in time. I rolled away, back on my feet in less than a second. She was already on the move toward me, and I had just enough time to recover before she began a flurry of punches and kicks at me. I dodged or blocked most of them, but I needed to get her off of the offensive before one of her punches caught me. I saw my opening. Grabbing her arm, I twisted and flipped her on her back in one fluid motion.

Before I could move to pin her, she had grabbed my other arm, dragging me down with her and flipping herself on top. I sent a swift knee to her stomach, momentarily knocking the wind out of her and flipped as once more, but it wasn't perfect. I had failed to pin her other arm and it was headed my direction.

Her fist connected with the left side of my face. Hard. I was too shocked to register any pain. It was against sparring protocol to go for the face, and she had blatantly violated that protocol. She flipped us again, but she had used too much momentum and we continued to roll. I shoved her off of me, sending her flying a couple of feet. It was more force than I should have used, but I was furious by now. She had broken protocol, and more importantly, she had awoken a deep envy within me. She landed hard on her ass, and before she could stand up, I had pinned her, gripping her arms tightly enough that my fingers would most likely leave bruises. She struggled for few more seconds, trying to break free of me, but I held her. She finally gave up, relaxing her muscles, signaling that the fight was over.

I continued to hold her, staring at her intently, but she refused to meet my eyes. "Look at me." I demanded, my voice deadly and low.

She flicked her piercing grey eyes to meet mine, defiant, steely and embarrassed. "Next time you go for the face, make sure you hit harder." I hissed, and let go of my grip on her.

I stood up and stalked off the mats, noticing for the first time the small crowd that had been watching. It was no longer just Lissa's guardians, but the entire gym, about thirty Guardians or so. Though most wore the rigid Guardian mask, I could see shocked faces among the crowd.

"Guardian Willet, you will be on outdoor night duty for the next week. The rest of you, warm down and stretch. Same time tomorrow." I called over my shoulder as I grabbed my stuff and strode out of the gym. It was hardly a punishment, considering the disrespect Amélie had shown, but it had been uncomfortably hot during the daytime recently. One guardian was posted in the front and back of Lissa's townhome at all times. It was a job usually delegated to the lower ranking Guardians within Lissa's guard, one that Amélie was above. I figured between the discomfort of the heat and the embarrassment of the job, it was enough of a punishment.

I continued walking briskly across Court, trying to put distance between Amélie and myself before a Spirit-induced haze made me rip her throat out. With how all over the place my emotions were, it wasn't that unlikely.

I felt him behind me before he even spoke. Dimitri. The aftershave had given him away. That, and the 6'7" shadow casted by an elaborately gilded street lamp near the walkway.

"Rose." I paused, but did not turn. "Are you okay?" I could sense the double meaning behind his words, but chose not to take the bait. If he wanted to have some sort of talk, he was going to have to work a little harder than that.

"I'm fine. It was just a poorly aimed shot. Nothing I haven't experienced before." I stated flatly, briefly recalling the time my mother had punched me in the face on accident.

"Let me see it." I stiffened as I felt him come closer behind me.

"I'm really f-" He was so close. So, so close. I hadn't realized before I had turned around how close he had gotten. I could reach up and kiss him. He's so- stop. Stop thinking about how beautiful his eyes look up close. Or how badly you want to kiss him. Just stop. My self-control was practically worthless. Even my voice of reason couldn't help but notice the way his strong, clean-shaven jaw tensed as I met his gaze. He searched my face, and reached up with his hand as if to examine the already bruising skin. He reached toward my left cheek, but paused and dropped his hand.

Love fades. Mine has. It was like a bucket of ice water.

"I'm fine." I whispered, as I lowered my eyes from his, disappointed from the lack of contact. "I have to go."

With that, I turned on my heel and continued my way back to my apartment, head spinning. My body felt cold from the sudden lack of proximity to him.

As I walked, a thought began to nag me.

Dimitri hadn't wanted to spar with me, and I wondered why. He felt nothing romantic for me. That I was sure of. However, I couldn't help my thoughts from wandering to all the other times I had sparred with Dimitri. The one constant of those memories? The sexual tension that crackled between us. It was electrifying and animalistic. It had led to many of our stolen kisses and heated discussions.

Was he trying to avoid sparring because of this reason?

The cynical side of me brushed that hopeful thought aside. It probably reminds him too much of Siberia. He feels too guilty. He doesn't want to have anything to do with me.

Then why join the training group that I run in the first place?

It was a stupid question. It had an obvious, logical answer. He swore to protect Lissa, and the best way to do that was to train with the other people sworn to protect her. I was training the more elite Guardians in her regime, so obviously Dimitri would want to train with us.

I let out a long sigh as I stepped into the shower, allowing myself to slip into Lissa's head to avoid my own thoughts for a while.