I believe that I got a few questions about whether the guy was Dimitri or not. Assuming these are all Dimitri and Rose oneshots, I think it's safe to say that the guy was Dimitri.

I didn't mention names because they never mentioned names in the movie. Matt Damon's character only found out her name during the second meeting!

"Rose! We're going to be late. We'll lose our dinner reservation and I'm not sure I'll be able to…." I heard Dimitri call. I rolled my eyes and stepped back from the mirror, squinting, regarding my appearance critically. It was my wedding anniversary. I wanted to look damn good, regardless of whether or not Dimitri would tear this thing off me in the near future. Satisfied there were no flyways with my chignon, I strode out into the living room.

Dimitri had his back to me and was fiddling with his shoes.

"Rose, I'm coming in there to-"

When he finally turned around, he froze. His face went blank. His mouth slackened.

I smiled.

Years later, and I still drove him crazy. It was nice to know. I felt beautiful tonight, and I was glad he thought so too. I was in love with the dress. It was a short, knee length dress, with a V shaped black bodice and a full skirt of tulle and lace. It reminded me of what Grace Kelly had worn in Rear Window. The resemblance was uncanny. Sydney had given it to me for the special occasion, all smiles and winks.

"How do I look?" I gestured to the dress.

There was no response. Because he simply stood up, walked over, and kissed me. Exactly three years down the line, and I still couldn't believe that this was my husband. I really was the luckiest woman alive.

I pulled away and leaned my forehead against his. My heart beat wild.

"Beautiful?"

He looked scandalised. "So beautiful, it hurts."

This time I was the one without the response. So I kissed him.

By the time we got to the restaurant, it was late. And by the time we left, I could barely remember what time it was. Or what we had just eaten. Dinner was a blur. For the first time in my life, food had been at the back of my mind. Sure we had eaten. I think I had even eaten pasta. Maybe some dessert. What I did remember was some champagne. And some hand stroking. And smouldering eyes across the table. A fire was burning away in my stomach, burgeoning, hot and uncontrollable.

We barely made it through the door with clothing. I had already torn his tie and shirt off, and was furiously kissing him as the alarm bleeped incessantly. Once we had that settled, it was a fight to the bedroom, between all the kissing and mid-way stops on the walls.

"Maybe…we…should…turn…some…lights…on," I murmured between kisses. He had pressed me up against the bedroom door, straddling his hips, and he was kissing me so deeply, that I moaned right into his mouth. He was an incredible kisser, and the bastard knew it. He drove me wild within seconds. I breathed into his parted mouth, his kisses; barely breathing when our lips touched and when they didn't.

The pressure moved toward my neck. Oh god. Heat licked its' way up my body. My lips burned. I tangled my hands in his hair and pulled him closer, revelling in the incredible feeling of his lips against my skin, feeling his bare skin under my fingertips.

He grunted. And then his lips were back on mine and all of my thoughts vanished. Except this: Clothing. Remove. Now.

We didn't even make it to the bed. When we finally pulled away, panting and spent, we were curled up on the floor, pressed skin to skin, with a tattered blanket.

"That…" I grinned, pulling myself up onto my elbows. I was heady, and warm, and full of love. Strands of my hair stuck to my forehead. I kissed him soundly; his face, his cheek, his lips. "Best. Anniversary. Ever."

He smiled and then pushed a wet strand of my hair back. "Agreed."

Keeping my arms around his neck, I whispered into his parted mouth, "And we have all night, so I was thinking…."

He pulled me closer and his eyes glinted. "Oh? What were you thinking Mrs Belikov?"

"Lots of things."

And then he was kissing me. The intensity picked up soon after that, and we were quickly panting, and I was moaning, crying out for him, and oh so ready. And then we heard it. The unmistakeable sound of a key in the lock, and the doorknob turning. Oh shit.

We both shot up from our position at the same time. We stared at each other.

And then our bedroom door flew open, and there came a cry, "Happy anniversary!"

For a second, everyone was smiling. Candles were sparkling. People were singing. Party trumpets were blown and party poppers were burst. And then they all froze. My family. My friends. Sydney, Adrian, Lissa, Christian, Jill, Eddie, my mother and my father. They all saw something they could never un-see.

Adrian's party trumpet slipped out of his slackened mouth. Sydney yelped and nearly dropped the cake. Eddie shielded Jill's wide eyes with a trembling hand. And my father. God. There was Zmey, in his colourful, over the top wardrobe and lopsided party hat, staring at us through what had to be a red haze. The bottle in his hands looked like it was two seconds away from shattering, his fingers were gripping it so tight they were white. Excessive internal pressure, or on Dimitri's head. It didn't think he would have any qualms about that.

I quickly pulled the blanket up higher over us and cleared my throat. I couldn't even string together some letters, a word, anything. A few awkward coughs sounded. Silence rang loud. Dimitri ran a hand through his hair. And then, everyone filed out, heads bowed, murmuring. Zmey had to be forcefully dragged out by my mother. He was still watching us over his shoulder with burning, dark, liquid brown eyes when the door closed. There was something murderous stirring in those eyes. There would be blood tonight.

My cheeks were still burning, even after they left. I slapped Dimitri on the chest and hissed, "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know!" he cried desperately. He looked a little red around the ears.

I rolled my eyes. And then I stood up and proceeded to try and find articles of clothing and jewellery. Some were missing, which was concerning and embarrassing and horrifying. It meant it was somewhere out there in the living room, where our mortified friends and family were waiting.

Dimitri buttoned on a shirt and was shaking his head, muttering away in rapid Russian. I almost smiled, despite myself. I was no stranger to embarrassment and public situations. Dimitri? Complete 360. He was the most guarded person I knew. He was a stoic, well regarded soldier to the whole community. And he liked it that way. This other side, well…he reserved that just for me. This…this was scandalous.

"Did you invite anyone over?" I was on my hands and knees combing the carpet for my lost earring. Dimitri tore across the room in his boxers.

"No. No. It was just supposed to be you and me!"

"Well then why the hell are they here?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

He threw the pillows off the bed and tore the blankets away.

"God, where did you throw it?" His shirt was still half open, and his fly was undone. "Did you invite anyone?"

I shot him a glare from my position. "Of course not!"

Finally emerging victorious, he pulled his belt from under the pillow and threaded it through.

I froze.

Dimitri, walking past me, froze as well. "What?"

I turned, slowly. My next words were whispered. "My underwear. I don't know where my underwear is. I can't find it!"

Dimitri stared. And then he swallowed.

"Where the hell did you throw it after you tore it off?!"

"I don't remember!"

"You're dead. Say goodbye. Say goodbye right now." I imagined Zmey finding my underwear wedged between the coach cushions or something. I imagined him strangling Dimitri with one hand. Oh god.

He smiled, one of those half-smiles from a lifetime ago, and kissed my forehead. "It's going to be fine. Just breathe. We'll find it. Just be...discreet."

"Oh god, what if Abe finds it?"

Dimitri frowned. "It's been three years. I'm your husband."

I gave him a look of incredulity.

"Oh Comrade, you are dead sexy, and crazy hot, but naive as hell. Three years, and you still don't get it." I shook him by the collar. "He's going to murder you for doing anything with his daughter."

His smiled, but kept his response simple: "Either way, we need to go. Missing underwear or not. The longer we keep them waiting..."

I pulled my earring on, ran over to the mirror, and smoothed my hair back into a ponytail. Then, with my eyes squeezed shut, I walked out of the room and into the living room.

And there was everyone. They were talking, albeit quietly, but quickly stopped when I entered. Everyone stared. I tucked a waif piece of hair behind my ears and kept my head down. I couldn't meet anyone's eyes, least of all my parents. The memories of what had just transpired were too fresh. My cheeks burned.

Dimitri appeared behind me shortly after that and discreetly pulled my zipper up. My blood boiled, just thinking about what we had been doing moments before. He cleared his throat, much like how I had earlier.

"Hey…guys."

The uncomfortable silence continued. And then Adrian stood up. He walked right over to us and offered me a folded white shirt. Dimitri's shirt. He motioned to my throat. I looked down. And sure enough, there were Dimitri's love bites. I was three seconds away from sinking down onto the floor in embarrassment. How had I missed that? I pulled on the shirt without a word.

My eyes silently searched the room for any other piece of clothing we had missed. My heart nearly failed. Because as luck would have it, there, there, sitting right near my mother's foot, slipped under the coach, was my missing underwear. Red, skimpy, and oh so obvious. Oh. God.

I nudged Dimitri and silently looked over. The only sign that he understood was given when he squeezed my hand. His face remained stoic.

"Does anyone want coffee, or tea, or anything?"

Things never truly got completely comfortable after that. I swore I could still see Christian flinching occasionally. Any progress we made was usually broken by something uncomfortable. Dimitri's shirt buttons on the doormat. My earring near a living room wall. Dimitri's tie thrown on the sink tap.

Of course, Adrian could not resist throwing out some innuendos. It's pretty hot tonight isn't it? You guys have some sanitiser? He even tried: Nice night, huh Belikov? with a little nudge that earned him three murderous stares. Sydney kept having to slap the back of his head. Despite it all, I honestly didn't mind the humour. It was a distraction. The awkwardness was starting to seep away. The mood was lighter. People were...laughing. And that was definitely better than staring or coughing.

The cake was cut. Candles were blown. Songs were sung and cheers were yelled. Sydney leaned over to me at one point and silently pressed something into the palm of my hand. A little red, scrunched up something. I would have hugged her. Thank you.

Sydney was apologetic. "I am so, so sorry about this! I kept trying to stop everyone, but your father insisted. It was either this, or burst in at midnight. And you weren't even supposed to be home yet!"

"It's fine." I wish I could have believed that. I nervously glanced over and watched my father still staring at Dimitri over the rim of his scotch glass.

The party left shortly after that, chattering and chowing down on leftover cake. My father didn't say much throughout the entire evening. The redness had left most of his face, but he still seemed…cold. He simply nodded, and gave us a wan smile when he greeted us. It seemed he hadn't recovered from seeing his daughter naked with an older man. His recovery, however, was clear when he crushed Dimitri's hand with his 'friendly handshake' before he left, muttering repeatedly, "Looking forward to next time."

We stood at the door and waved them all goodbye. Adrian and Sydney were the last to leave. We could hear them murmuring from the doorstep as they walked away, despite their hushed tones. Adrian threaded his arm through Sydney's and muttered, "You could have told us they were doing something! My eyes will never recover!"

Sydney stamped down, hard, on Adrian's foot and hissed, "They can hear you!"

"Yes, we really can," I called.

Sydney laughed awkwardly and pulled at Adrian, "Come on, George Carlin."

"Hey, Sage, a pop culture reference…"

The door closed, and we both sighed with relief.

"We need to change the locks."

"Or we could lock the door on our bedroom."

We both nodded. And then our smiles grew.

"You know, it is our anniversary…" I slowly pulled the straps of my dress down and watched him stiffen.

"And there is still the rest of the evening." My earrings came off. My fingers went to his shirt.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" He stared. And then, he simply grabbed me around the waist and carried me to the bedroom. The door was slammed shut. Locked. He smiled. "In your words: Hell, yeah."

Review! Shall I continue...?