HR: So, now for a change of pace! A rather drastic change of pace, that we probably need to explain a bit lol.

A: Just a little. So obviously this is much longer than the Prologue.

HR: Much, MUCH longer than the prologue. And that is totally my fault. See, I'd decided to write a completely shameless one-night-stand-with-Kirill one-shot, and actually had it almost done when askita and I realized it actually had the potential for real plot.

A:Didn't we go over that part already? I'm sure we said that before you shamelessly hijacked my Nicky/Jason story...

HR: Yeah yeah. I just thought I'd warn/remind them before they dive into this expecting to see Jason or Nicky. Cuz yeah, they aren't ANYWHERE in this chapter lol.

A: Yeah, they really aren't. As a matter of fact, this part is extremely needed, and as such could not be cut down at all. Seeing as how, we've decided to have our OC be crucial to the plot development and story setup.

HR: Yeah, she's totally turned into a walking plot device and/or foil to the three cannon characters. In any case, here you'll get to meet our OC, oggle at Kirill, and enjoy a little smut. Surely that's enough for anyone right?

A: And it's tasteful smut. Definately above par to what you'll find in your average cheesy romance novel. Although I'm sure if you want hardcore sexy sex you can just PM the living daisy's out of Hidden and she'll just fold over and obey. *looks innocent*

HR: *headdesk* Cuz I REALLY need more plotbunnies invading my brain. Thanks ever so much.

A: *continues to look innocent* But don't worry, I'll be back soon with our next installment, this time centering around our favorite amnesiac asset. Although he'll be sadly lacking the twinkle in his eye and heart wrenching smile. *pouts*

HR: *grumbles* That's about enough out of us for the moment, don't you think? On to the fic!

And btw, see the disclaimer from the first chappie: We only the OC and that's nothing.

A: You know... we're pretty good at this. Is the camera still rolling...

HR: *shuffles her co-author out the door*

A: *meep*

Chapter 1 by Hidden_Relevance: An American Tourist in Moscow

January 16, 2006 Moscow, Russia

Suzanne tried to ignore the concerned look her friend Kim was giving over her drink. Not that she didn't feel a little touched, but really, she didn't need a well intentioned babysitter making her even more edgy. She took a sip from her glass of questionable liquor and directed her gaze out into the crowds that populated the trendy Moscow club their hotel concierge had suggested for them. It was definitely one of the more hip places she'd been. The kind of place she'd guess Gary would be totally comfortab-.

Stop it. She scowled at herself. It was bad enough she'd been forced to continue to deal with the bastard for the past week and a half of their trip; she didn't want the thought of him hanging over her head when she was trying to enjoy herself this last week in Russia. Trying for Kim, if not for her self. Suzanne and the now-ex had planned this month long trip through Europe as an attempt at "rekindling their relationship." She took another long drink. That had been an epic failure.

She turned her gaze back to the person perched next to her at the bar. At least she'd had the sense to suggest they invited some of their friends along for the trip. She'd know Kim for years, and Gary had insisted that his good buddy Mitch come along as well. He was the other (besides Gary) missing member of their group, one she'd always been less than fond of as she'd always gotten the feeling he encouraged Gary to party. She'd certainly been proved right about that asshole after the incident in Paris. She didn't know where either of those two were, and frankly she thought he and Gary could now go screw themselves for all she cared.

"Hey Suze, come on, let's dance, huh?" She mustered up a weak smile for Kim. Trust the other woman to know that normally music and motion would be the way to kick start her friend out of a funk. Too bad she just wasn't up for it tonight.

"You go ahead, chica. I'm comfy." Kim didn't look convinced, and she tried again to smile. "Besides, that redhead's been checking you out for at least five minutes."

"Ooo really? Well in that case... But don't get too comfy. You better join me out there, eventually." Suzanne raised her eyebrows at Kim's mock glare, and just nodded.

"Yes, Mommy." With one last look at her friend, Kim headed out onto the dance floor.

Finally left alone, Suzanne allowed herself to sigh and drop the forced smile from her face. She didn't mean to be a buzz kill, but fuck if she felt like shaking her ass for some stranger to stare at. It was going to take a hell of an inspiration to actually get her in the mood to dance tonight. She sipped again, emptying her glass with a wince at the cheap liquor. Then, she set the glass aside for the bartender to collect and glanced over to watch her friend rocking out. The sight was almost enough to make her smile. As it was, her face just softened out of the frown, but it was better than looking as angry as she'd known she probably did a minute or two prior. A voice, and a touch to her elbow startled her and she spun to see the bartender sliding a shot to her and spouting something in Russian.

"I'm sorry. I don't, I don't understand." He shook his head at himself, then answered in heavily accented English.

"Ah, apologies. This is from the gentleman at that table there." He pointed to her right, and she turned to see a table populated mostly by party favor types and the few men they were hanging all over. One of them, a dark haired man with 2 such ladies all but in his lap, was staring straight at her. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the bartender.

"I'm not interested in being his number 3. Thanks though." She turned back to the dance floor, only to have the glass shoved closer.

"Is paid for, da?" She reluctantly took the shot of vodka, as he spoke again. "This is our best. Ah, top shelf?" Surprised, she pointed up to the expensive bottles displayed.

"Those, really?" Her eyebrows went up as the bartender nodded.

"Da, it is our best. Very good." She sighed and lifted the glass.

Ah, what the hell? It wasn't like she was likely to spend the cash for something that expensive; she might as well enjoy it. Suzanne shifted to face the dark man's table and lifted the shot in a slight salute. He saluted her as well, and then they both downed the smooth liquor. She exhaled slowly as the burn worked its way down her body dam near all the way to her toes.

"Oh wow, that was good." She gave the bartender a nod, then despite herself, glanced back at the stranger. Once he could tell she watched him, he lifted his hand to wave her over, obviously ignoring the rather annoyed looks of the women he was with. She scoffed; well this one was certainly arrogant. Thanks, but she'd had quite enough of that from Gary. She stared pointedly at each of the girls, and then back to him, and shook her head deliberately. "Sorry, that's just not gonna happen."

Satisfied that she'd made her point, Suzanne slid back around to watch her friend, ignoring the bartender's faint look of shock at her dismissal. She was debating on ordering another drink, of the bottom shelf variety that she could afford, when a dark figure walked between her and the dance floor to settle himself on the stool next to her. Surprised she glanced over only to find herself staring at the well-dressed man who'd bought her shot. She swallowed slightly, hoping the man didn't notice her nervousness. And lord, was he really making her nervous. Despite, or possibly because of the few faded scars on his hands and one large one cutting through his closed cropped dark hair down to just above his eyebrow, he was undeniably handsome. He wore what she was fairly sure was an exceptionally expensive suit coat over a tight black shirt and slacks that accented the hell out of his long legs. She skated her gaze back up to his face, to find him watching her check him out with an unreadable expression on his slightly scruffy face. She swallowed again. Apparently satisfied that she'd looked him over long enough, he spoke, his voice deep and rich, and his accent thick, but relatively easy to understand.

"You didn't come over to the table." She blinked. That was a rather bland conversation starter.

"I wasn't fond of the company you were keeping," she quipped, jerking her head back over her shoulder to the table where she was pretty sure the blondes were likely sending her death glares. He flickered his gaze past her.

"Fair enough." Now his eyes slid down her form just as obviously as she figured her own perusal had been. That slow gaze was beginning to raise her blood pressure. "You still took the drink I sent you." Again, it was more of a statement than a question, and she wondered mildly if he only spoke in declarative sentences.

"It was already paid for." He nodded slightly, and she went on. "Besides, I didn't ask for you to buy it for me. I didn't come here looking for random men to hit on me." He raised an eyebrow slightly, and she wondered if she was simply imagining the hint of mischief.

"You would have preferred random women, then?" She rolled her eyes. Typical male.

"No, not really. I just got-" She caught herself and shook her head again. "No, let's not go there. Sorry, I'm nowhere near drunk enough to tell some stranger about my crappy love life." The eyebrow when higher.

"I see." With that he turned slightly, waving the bartender over, and after a brief exchange of words in Russian, another pair of shots were being placed in front of them. "Well then. Drink up." She glanced from the shot to his face and back again.

"Oh, por el amor de Dios," she muttered, practically glaring at the shot. "Fuck, what the hell." She grabbed it, and tossed it back, not bothering to salute the man this time. He was only a moment behind her, his eyes definitely amused this time. "You ought to tell me your name, you know. I won't keep drinking with a stranger."

"Kirill. And you are..." he trailed off, and she again noted that he'd managed to avoid actually questioning her. It was a neat trick, if odd. She chased away the thought and told him her own name. Suzanne was startled to find him reaching out to take her free hand and brushing the knuckles with his lips. "It is a pleasure."

He dropped her hand almost as suddenly as he'd taken it, and she was left fiddling with her empty shot glass, trying to hide just how potent of an effect the laconic man was having on her. She was grateful for the silence he didn't seem in a hurry to break: otherwise, she knew she'd be likely to start babbling helplessly. She tried to focus on the dancers and not the heat of his thigh just barely close enough to brush her own. She was probably blushing... It was mortifying. Just when she thought the silence was going to drive her out onto the dance floor, he spoke again, startling her out of her reverie.

"So, you speak Spanish, but not Russian." She wondered if there was a hint of reproach there.

"I, uh, I actually speak just a little of a couple languages actually." She shrugged to herself; either he was actually interested or she'd bore him and he'd leave. Either outcome worked for her, honestly. "Ah, hablo un poquito Espanol. Spreche ein wenig deutsches." She held her thumb and first finger apart in front of him. "Nur ein wenig. Beyond that, I only know a bit of Chinese, though nothing that's fit for polite conversation, and a little Japanese slang." She shrugged again. "I only took Spanish back in school. The rest I just learned in bits and pieces." She fell silent, having run out of anything to say on the topic.

"I speak the first two, as well. I know nothing of Chinese or Japanese." He was eying her with a faintly considering expression. "How does a young woman learn impolite Chinese?" Suzanne was so busy noting that yes, he did know how to ask a question, that she almost forgot he was likely waiting for a response.

"You'd be amazed at what a girl can learn if it gets her on a stage." A rather aroused eyebrow was raised this time, and she realized it likely sounded like she was a stripper. "Umm, for theater... On a stage for theater. I swear." There was a beat of silence, and then he began to actually chuckle, an honest smile spreading across his handsome face, leaving her glad she didn't have to stand on suddenly weak knees. She ducked her head for a moment to compose herself, then lifted her gaze back up to his.

"You know, I get the feeling you don't smile like that nearly often enough." This time apparently she had shocked him, and he seemed to founder for a moment before finally responding, his voice thoughtful.

"No, perhaps not." In the quiet between them after that amusing little side bar, he gestured for another round of the excellent vodka. This time she just sipped slowly, savoring it. Now, Kirill was the one left toying with an empty glass, waiting for her to finish.

"So, have you drunk enough to say why you turned down my company?" She blinked, surprised he was actually going to push her on the subject. What man really wanted to know why a woman was or was not considering a one night stand? She wasn't considering, she reminded herself. Absolutely was not considering it. Not that she hadn't been enjoying the conversation, and true, Kirill's attractive presence had kept the thoughts of the asshole at bay for the most part.

She opened her mouth, trying to decide how to answer, and then with a muttered Chinese curse, Suzanne spun back to the bar and gestured for the bartender to pour her another shot. She tossed it back as both men watched bemused, and then she took a deep breath.

"Well, if you really want to know," she gave a dark laugh, then went on. "I came on this trip with my boyfriend of nearly two years, and some of our friends. He, the boyfriend, had noticed I was getting sort of, over him, I guess, and decided touring Europe would be a great way for us to get back to being all romantic or whatever." She shook her head. "However, I was getting over him because I had my suspicions that he'd been sleeping around, and I didn't think the stupid trip was going to fix that. Not to mention, who goes to Russia in January? It's insane how cold it is outside... But, he paid for my half, and everyone else signed up." A deep sigh slipped out of her. She didn't look at her silent audience.

"Anyway, it was fun in London for Christmas, and the first day or two of Paris. But, after New Year's, I went back to the hotel early, and he was in our room with the maid. A French maid. God what a fucking cliche." She looked down as his thigh pressed a little harder into her's. "So, I'm now single, which is nice, I guess. But, I don't take sex lightly, and I wouldn't want to... I'm not looking to get laid when I don't know if it's because I want the guy or because I want to get back at the asshole." She shrugged and finally glanced up at him. "So there you have it."

His eyes were on her, and she wondered if he'd been watching her that intently for all of her bitchy monologue. Once again, his gaze slid down the full length of her, appraising, and judging from the curve of his lips, he was enjoying what he saw. The intensity of it drove Gary from her mind with very little effort.

"I can say this," he said after he'd finished undressing her with his eyes, "I do not know that you should not want to 'get back at the asshole.'" He paused and leaned slightly closer. "But I can promise you would not be thinking of anyone but me, if you did go looking." The mischief was back, along with that nearly arrogant confidence that damned if she didn't find more than a little sexy. She was not about to let him know that, though. She sighed dramatically, and reached out to pat him on the cheek.

"Kirill, dear, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but that ego is nowhere near as attractive as the rest of you." He scoffed.

"How can you say that? You have not even seen my ego yet." Suzanne blinked as the innuendo sunk in, and the she threw back her head and laughed out loud for the first time since she'd walked into her hotel room that day in Paris. She was suddenly silenced, as he swiftly closed the scant distance between them and kissed her soundly, then sat back just as quickly leaving her staring at him. Her pulse pounded in her ears.

"What, exactly, was that for?" He stroked his hand along hers softly.

"I think, perhaps, you do not smile enough, either."

"I... I see." He nodded slightly, just a hint of a smile hovering about his lips. He turned to call for another round as she stopped him. "Just water for me, please." The smile vanished, though he ordered as she'd asked.

"You do not want to keep drinking with me." She shook her head, feeling suddenly shy with the realization sinking into her head.

"No, that's not what I meant. It's just, I'm a sleepy drunk." She mustered up her courage and met his eyes. "And I really don't think I want to pass out early tonight." His eyes smoldered, and the smile began to ease back onto his face.

"I see." He handed her the glass of water, and she took a long drink, licking her lip slightly as she finished.

"I think you do." She finished off her water fairly quickly, growing giddier by the moment under the heat of eyes. As she set the empty glass beside her, he leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Come home with me." Her mouth went dry, and she nodded once, then again more firmly.

"Just let me tell my friend I'm leaving." Without bothering to wait for his response, Suzanne stood and eased her way through the crowd to Kim's side. "So, if I told you that I'm going to go have a one night stand with some strange Russian, what would you say?" Kim glanced over her shoulder to eye the dark man who was following her friend out onto the dance floor.

"Suze, I'd say that if you were ever going to have a one night stand: that would definitely be the guy to have it with. Damn." She fanned herself with one hand, as with the other, she pulled out one of the international cell phones they'd all got for the trip. "Just remember I'm number one on your speed dial. And you-" Kim jabbed a finger toward Kirill who'd come to stand beside them, "Make sure she's up by noon, OK? We do have things to do." The imposing Russian blinked at Kim, and Suzanne had to smother a laugh at her sudden mental image of a cocker spaniel staring down a Doberman.

"Da." Kim did laugh at his one word reply and then, with a wink to her friend, shooed the two of them off and turned back to her redhead. Clearly, they were dismissed for the evening.

With a hand on the small of her back, Kirill lead her over to collect her coat and then to valet station. Both, she was glad to see, kept her out of the cold as long as possible. His car was sleek and black, which didn't surprise her. She climbed in, and they were on their way. This time the silence was drastically less than comfortable, at least on her end. Was one supposed to make conversation on the way to go sleep with someone or not? This was why she avoided these sorts of encounters; she never quite knew what the 'rules' were. She decided to stay silent, and luckily, they pulled up to yet another valet at what she assumed was his building in fairly short order.

Then, his hand again on her back, they strode quickly through the rather sumptuous lobby and into the elevators, where the awkwardness evaporated as the pair all but fell upon each other. Clinging to his neck as he kissed her fiercely, Suzanne didn't even notice if he'd actually pressed the button for his floor or not. She assumed so, as the doors opened and Kirill began backing her out and down the hall. They only paused for a moment to allow him to fumble out his key and let them in before they were lunging at each other again, pulling off the heavy jackets and then her shirt. Suzanne yanked his suit jacket off and then came to a complete halt at the sight of a pair of loaded guns in the shoulder holster she hadn't noticed him wearing. He didn't move, just stood motionless, his eyes saying clearly that this next move would have to be her's.

"This... is probably where I should suggest we slow this way down..." She took a deep breath, and his hands began to slide away from her. "Fuck it." She slammed her mouth back on to his. The holsters and other articles of clothing were quickly stripped away.

"Next time," he whispered, his hands driving her up the wall, "we can go slow." Then he was in her, and she held on for dear life as he took her where he stood.

The next time was, as he'd promised, slow. They took hours, each exploring the other's body with lips and hands, mapping every inch. There was another momentary pause when she'd first run her hand over one of the larger scars littering his body like violent constellations. He'd still, giving her that same look, and then she'd followed her hand with her lips, and he'd relaxed, soothed by her, or so she hoped. When they finally slid together, it was as slow as their foreplay had been, and far more gentle than she'd expected him to be.

In the quiet after that round, he'd pulled her close, one arm banded around her waist. It was there, with the darkness to hide the blush she knew likely burn across her face, she dared to ask what she'd been wondering since he'd bought her the first drink.

"Why me?" She only whispered, the desire to keep some of the stillness intact keeping her from speaking aloud. He didn't answer, and she couldn't help but press him. "It's not like you didn't lack for female companionship..." He sighed deeply, the hand on her hip softly tracing circles in her skin.

"Those women. They ask for drinks, money, pretty gifts. They think it... daring- to be seen with a dangerous man." She wondered if the bitter tone to his voice had slipped out on accident.

"And you are dangerous." She felt him nod and heard him swallow almost imperceptibly.

"I am not a good man, little one." The arm around her waist tightened, and she didn't resist the closeness he seemed to crave in that moment, despite what was likely a warning in his voice. "I am Secret Service. The things I am paid to do... They are not always honorable. I am not a good man," he repeated. She sighed as she tried to figure out how to respond to what seemed to so nearly be a confession. Her hand traced the same scar she'd been startled by before.

"You might not be a good man, but you aren't evil, Kirill." He tensed, and she could tell he wanted to argue with her, so she went on. "If you were as bad as you think, I doubt you would have bothered buying me a drink first. Women alone in foreign countries can find out the hard way that some men are never honorable." She cuddled in even closer, pleased when he just held on instead of pushing her away. "You said not always; that means that sometimes you are an honorable man, Kirill." She held her breath waiting for his response.

Despite her anticipation, he still surprised her, flipping her onto her back and kissing her breathless. He dove into her desperately, as it to find something, reach something deep within her. She held on, her mind driven blank by the pace, by the need they both seemed to feel. Within what seemed like only moments, she came with a hoarse cry of his name, and that was enough to drive him over too. He lay heavily on her for a moment, murmuring in Russian as he nuzzled at her neck. She felt in that moment she'd damn near die to know what it was he was saying. He lifted slightly to kiss her deeply, and then rolled cradling her against his side again. They lay in silence, limbs and arms entwined, one of his hands stroking her hair softly as the night faded to the cold dim light of morning. Then, despite her best efforts, she fell fast asleep, sinking into the feeling of warmth and safety of his arms around her.

January 17, 2006 Moscow, Russia

Suzanne woke alone and to the sound of an alarm beeping insistently from the bedside table. She shifted to view the digital readout through bleary eyes, laughing quietly as she realized what time it was. Kirill, apparently acceding to Kim's order, had set the alarm for 12 noon. Suzanne blinked as she noticed what looked to be a small stack of paper currency, a pen, and a note resting on the clock itself. She pulled her tired, and she noted, sore in the best way possible, body to sit up as she grabbed the note and read it, hearing Kirill's deep voice in her head.

"I had work today. Niko, downstairs, is to lock up the flat and call you a cab. I have left you enough to pay for it so do not let the driver cheat you."

She shook her head in mild annoyance, knowing that she likely would be cheated if forced to find a cab on her own. It still didn't make it any less bossy on his part. She stretched and pulled herself out of bed. With Kirill already gone, there really wasn't much point in sticking around. The only thing she'd likely accomplish would be to freak Kim out, and that was not the way she wanted to start the day. She pulled on her clothing, and shoved the note into her pocket. She glanced around the room for another sheet of paper, but couldn't' find anything without snooping more than she wanted too. Suzanne felt more than a little flattered that he'd trusted her this much, and she was not about to take advantage of that fact. With a shrug, she simply grabbed the pen and jotted down her cell number and the day she'd be leaving Moscow on one of the folded bills. Then, her jacket in hand, she left his lush apartment, and headed down to the lobby where she explained who she was to 'Niko.' He made the call, but she noted, seemed rather surprised to see her. Well, that probably made sense considering what she'd inferred about the kind of women Kirill usually ran with. They really didn't seem the types to actually stay the entire night. She waited by the glass doors until a non-descript black sedan slid up, and Niko nodded pointedly.

"That's a cab?" she asked, confused.

"Is private car. Kirill always asks for such."

"Oh, thank you." Suzanne nodded politely, trying not to show her disappointment at being informed that the car was something Kirill used often. Maybe she hadn't been that different from his usual conquests after all. She shook her head at the thought and bundled herself into her coat. She pushed through the door and strode quickly to the car, only to stop short as several men climbed out and rushed toward her. She screamed and turned back, trying to reach the doorway again. The man 'Niko' just watched through the glass as she was dragged into the car and driven away.

Well I hope everyone's still with us! Next chapter, we'll get a look at what Jason's been up to. Hope to see you then!