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This chapter is a crucial one...this can't go on much longer...wedding is tomorrow...tensions are high...sentences are short...;D Begins same day as the last chapter. Enter at your own risk...

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"Well?" Rosaline prodded. It was slightly rainy on the walk home after the girls had met for lunch, and she tightened the belt of her coat as she spoke. "Did the lesson do any good?"

Anastasia smiled to herself, keeping her eyes on the ground. Finally, she decided on, "Yes. I definitely think it did some good."

"It's about time," Lydia gushed. "If he danced like that at the wedding we'd have to lock him in the closet."

She gave a quick appreciative laugh at the comment, but something about the idea of her impending wedding suddenly made her want to throw up.

As if reading her thoughts, only the opposite way they were intended, Rosaline piped up again. "Oh, that's right---tomorrow is the big day! How do you feel? Are you nervous?"

This time she looked up at the sky instead of down. "Oh yeah," Anastasia replied, and at least it was an honest answer.

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I can't believe this is happening. Why did he have to come back? Why now? I would've been perfectly fine with hating him for the rest of my life. Ohhhh, you know exactly why he came back. And he's right. He's right he's right he's right he's right he's right! Aagh! That is so annoying! I shouldn't even go through with tomorrow---not now. It wouldn't be fair, thinking what I'm thinking. But what am I thinking? Why should any of this make a difference? Because, stupid, you never stopped lo---

Her thoughts as she entered her room were interrupted as she spotted something on the bedside table. Walking over to pick it up, she realized it was a fresh, single red rose.

Part of her was surprised. Part of her kind of expected it. But all of her knew that Boris, the three times he'd ever sent flowers, always sent half a dozen white, meaningless daisies.

This rose, on the other hand, meant a different kind of Together In Paris. And he---not Boris---knew it.

Quickly, Anastasia plucked the dozen wilted lilies out of the vase by the bed and set the rose in their place. It looked better there, she decided with a soft smile, dropping the dead ones in the wastebasket.

Out of nowhere there was a knock on her door, and, startled, she threw the newspaper she'd intended to read into the can to cover the floral graveyard. "Come in!"

Dimitri played it safe and poked his head in the door first. "I, uh, I won't stay long. Is there anything else you need before I...go off-duty, sort of?"

Anastasia held back a laugh. That was just like him: half the time, he knows just what to say; the other half the time he can barely assemble a sentence. "No, no, I'm all right. Thank you."

One of them---who knows which; they probably would have both started to speak and cancelled each other out---was about to say something else, when the door flew the rest of the way open and Earl barged into her room.

"Excuse me, your highness, I'm very sorry," he managed, sweating bullets, "but there's been a...well I....there's..."

"Yes?" she pried, growing concerned.

"Well, I was bringing Master Pooka back from his walk, where you requested I take him, and, and, he must have spotted something interesting in one of the maids' laundry baskets, because...well, before I knew it the leash was out of my hand, and...."

"And what? Where's Pooka, Earl?"

The guard gulped, tugging at his collar. "I, uh...he's...it seems he's trapped in the laundry chute, your highness. He fell about halfway, and then...."

He never finished that sentence, because Anastasia wasn't in the room anymore. She pushed past him and ran for the end of the endless hallway, the sound of helpless barks getting louder and louder. Dimitri was right behind her.

"What do you think you're gonna do?" he shouted, given that she was so far ahead of him.

She didn't turn around. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. I'm going to save my dog." She threw him a quick glare over her shoulder. "What are you still doing here? You always hated Pooka."

"I'm helping---what does it look like."

"If this is one of your tricks, if you set this up to look like the hero, I swear---"

"I didn't! I had nothing to do with this, okay?" he insisted. Stopping in front of the door to the only laundry chute in the house, Anastasia pushed open the door, and they both looked down into the dark tunnel. They couldn't see him, but Pooka was trapped somewhere between the trapdoor and the basement.

"Hang on, boy!" she called down. "I'm gonna get you out of there, okay?"

Pooka whimpered in response. In the meantime, Dimitri was taking off his jacket. He shoved it into her hands and put a foot up on the ledge.

"What do you think you're doing?" she gaped.

He shrugged. "I'll go get him."

"Don't you think there's a safer way to do this?"

"Well, I'm not hearing any better ideas...."

She wanted to slap him and hug him at the same time. "Be careful," she relented, but he was already halfway inside.

Very slowly, inches at a time, Dimitri worked his way down the steel tunnel, taking extra care not to slip, even a little bit. The fact that there were no footholds made it that much harder, but it was a small enough space that he made it work.

Finally he saw Pooka, squirming around in a wedged-in pile of laundry. Pooka must've seen him too, because first he yipped for joy, and then he growled for old time's sake.

"Easy, mutt. Unless you think another twenty feet down would be a good trip."

Scooping him up by the scruff of his neck, he started back up toward the top floor, even more difficult now with the cargo.

Anya had the door open, watching the whole thing, or what she could see of it anyway. After what seemed like forever, a hand streched up toward her out of the darkness, and that hand had a dog in it.

"Oh my God! I can't believe it!" Grabbing Pooka up in a hug and setting him down on the floor, she took Dimitri's hand and assisted him in getting out of the comically small laundry chute.

"See? Toldja. No big deal." Dimitri straightened up and brushed some of the dust off his clothes.

"No," Anya said, looking straight into his eyes, her voice almost a whisper. He hates that dog. To risk something like that, he must love.... "It is a big deal. Thank you." She made a decision, right then and there. "Dimitri, I can't do this anymore. Here you are, being so perfect to me, and I don't deserve it! I know you're sorry, I knew that, and I keep pushing you away, I keep going back to planning that stupid wedding that I didn't even want in the first place. Ugh, I can't even think about that right now! You keep trying to prove it to me and I keep ignoring you, and I don't want to, I never wanted to. I had to, or I thought I did...."

"Anya," he said, trying to calm her down, and that's when she realized she was crying.

"Great. First I screw up our lives, then I make a complete fool of myself in a hallway."

"That's okay, I happen to hold the world record for making a fool of yourself. You'll catch up eventually." That made her laugh. It felt good to make her laugh again. "Anya..."

She looked back up at him, and he looked at her, and before anyone could stop themselves...well, it didn't matter if it was said that she kissed him or he kissed her. They were both true.

"I love you, Dimitri, I'm so sorry," she said when they parted, for only seconds at a time.

The next breath was his turn. "I never should have left. All of this was my fault."

"Finally you take the blame for something," she said, managing a joke before they both went silent again.

They stayed like that for the longest moment in the world, and he kissed her until it felt like they'd spent another five years in that hallway.

Eventually, like all good things, it came to an end, and they just stood there with their arms around each other, her resting her head against his shoulder.

Anya was content to just let the moment pass in silence, so she was surprised when Dimitri spoke.

She was even more surprised at what he said.

"You know we can't do this."

She pulled back from him, a horrified look on her face. Her voice was a whisper. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Anya. But you're engaged. This isn't right."

"Ri...right?" She felt like she was going to faint. "Since when do you care what's right?"

"Anya. You know it. I know it. You can't back out of this wedding."

"Dimitri..." The tears started again, much as she willed them not to.

"Everyone in Paris is going to be there. Think of your grandmother. You can't let them all down now. It's too late. You..." He tried not to choke on this part. Not now. "You belong with him."

"Dimitri, no..."

"Look." He let go of her hands, and started backing up down the hallway. "We said what we needed to say. Did what we needed to do. Now we have to get on with our lives."

"Dimitri, please..." She followed him, clinging to his sleeve, breaking his heart. He stopped for only a second, gave her one last kiss, and said, "Promise me, Anya. Promise me more than anything that you'll be at that church tomorrow."

"No," she shook her head, "no..."

"Promise me," he interrupted. "Anya, if you care anything for me at all you will be there, at the church, tomorrow. I need you to promise me."

She couldn't speak, but nodded, just a little, little bit. Taking this as the 'yes' he needed, he turned around, heading for the stairs, trying not to hear the Duchess' door slam.

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MAJORLY unexpected, huh? Shook me a little just writing it. Review, by all means, just don't harpoon me until you know where I'm going, okay? You know me by now. ;-)

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