A/N: Lioness is back with another chapter! Yay! I really wasn't expecting to put another chapter up on this, but I've been doing a lot of playing around with it in my head, and thinking about it, and I decided I just couldn't do a randomly posted separate oneshot series. So, this is going to be a story all by itself. I've still got a lot to work out, and a lot to fill in that I wasn't planning on...for example, this chapter was supposed to have a different point in it. But, all in all, I'm very happy, and I think it really builds on Beka and Rosto's reforming relationship. So, enjoy, and don't forget to review!

It was late morning when Beka finally woke. What woke her, though, startled her somewhat. Alex was crying. And it seemed like she'd only just gotten to bed a few moments before, for all the sun was shining in through the shutters.

Beka blinked a few times and pushed herself up from bed, trying to clear her mind a little. She had been up very late the night before. Or perhaps it had been very early. More than likely the latter, she decided. She ran a quick hand over her disarrayed hair and pulled herself up from the bed, padding softly over to Alex's crib.

"Mama!" Her son's blue eyes brightened a little as he watched her as seriously as he could with tears in his eyes. Beka smiled, leaning down to pick him up.

"Good morning, Alex," she said, kissing him on the cheek, which was rather moist.

"Mama up!" he said, clapping his hands together. "Hungry," he added, once again regarding her as if she'd done something wrong. Beka chuckled.

"Of course. We'll get you some food in a few minutes," she said. Alex just blinked at her expectantly. She shook her head and put him carefully back in the crib before walking over to her clothespress.

The room around her still shocked her sometimes. After more than six months of living at the Dancing Dove, Beka was still amazed that Rosto let her. He'd been as kind to her as he'd been able to make himself. And Viviana had helped, too. She'd pressured Rosto to help Beka as much as she needed it, even when he was still rather wary of the former Dog. But the soft bed, the large, clean room, complete with a side room for when Alex was big enough to need his own, and even furnishing that were many times better than Beka had seen in years were something she still wasn't accustomed to all the way.

She ran a brush through his disheveled dark blond hair, smoothing it and untangling it as best she could. She'd cut it not too long ago, when she'd gotten annoyed by the length – the vanity itself was still intact, but the braid wasn't nearly as long as it had been. It had just taken too much time when she needed to be caring for her son, and besides, it was more than likely going to get her in trouble if it came uncoiled, as it had been almost down to the ground when unbound. Now, it went almost to her elbows, and was manageable when she braided it, as she was doing at the moment.

Once she tied the plait off, she placed her brush back where it had been and opened one of the drawers and pulled out fresh clothing. She changed swiftly and pulled on her boots, buckling her belt as she returned to her son's crib. Alex watched her expectantly.

"Now?" he asked, wide blue eyes trained on his mother. Beka chuckled again.

"Yes, sweetie, now," she answered, reaching down to pick him up.

"Yay!" Alex declared, clapping his hands together. "Yay, Mama!" he added, giggling at her as she grinned at him and spun around.

There was a knock on her door an instant later, startling her. Beka frowned a little and shifted her son to her hip as she crossed to the door. She unlocked it and paused for just a moment, wondering who it could be. It couldn't be Rosto or Viviana. She rarely saw Rosto, though Viviana did come to see her and Alex frequently. But, Viviana had said that she was going to go shopping that morning when Beka had spoken to her the day before. Rosto, though, kept to himself, which was a change that Beka wasn't sure about. He was still an anomaly to her.

She opened the door to find Rosto leaning his forearm against the frame and waiting expectantly. For just a moment, Beka was startled. She took a step back, alarmed by the sudden proximity. The way he was leaning, he was less than a foot away from her.

"Good morning," she greeted, trying to hide the shock he'd given her. Rosto nodded to her, but was silent for a moment.

"Good morning," he returned. His dark brown eyes were calm and fully fixed on her face. The ragged white scar on his face was even more noticeable at that moment. His pale skin was slightly flushed, as if he'd been doing something before he'd come to see her, though his neat clothing showed no sign of it. He wore a creamy off-white shirt under a crimson tunic, and soft-looking brown breeches with his black boots. Beka had already picked out at least nine knives on his person as she'd made that assessment.

There was silence between them, each refusing to let up their gaze. Beka's jaw clenched and unclenched as he stared at her until he finally broke the silence.

"You've been avoiding me," he said. It was not a question, or an accusation, just a statement. Beka was silent for another moment, trying to think of an answer. She hadn't been avoiding him, per se, but she rarely saw him at all, even when she lived in the same inn. She could hear him talking through the floor, though. Rosto had given her a room on the third story – the second floor that was completely rooms for rent - because it was safer for Alex, and someone was less likely to try to break in when the Rosto's room was on a lower floor. Frequently, she would hear him talking with Viviana late at night if they started to talk louder.

"Umm…" Beka swallowed, trying to find her voice. "I haven't been avoiding you…" she said quietly, her blue eyes slightly wider than usual. Rosto raised a golden brow, tilting his head slightly.

"I haven't seen you in three days, Beka," he told her. There was a knowing look on his face as he looked down at her. "You've been using the back stairway again, haven't you?"

"Maybe…" Beka flushed slightly. "But that doesn't really matter, now does it?" she countered.

"When it comes down to it, I suppose not," Rosto admitted. "But I really would like to see you more than once or twice a week, you know," he told her. Beka peered at him skeptically.

"And why is that?" she asked.

"Does a cove really have to give a reason when he wants to see a friend who he's doing a favor to by letting her stay in his inn?" Rosto replied, raising his own eyebrow as he spoke nonchalantly. Beka gave him a rather annoyed look.

"I have a life, master smarty-britches," she told him. She was already rather annoyed with him. "And I do have a child to take care of," she added as a reminder.

"I'm aware of that, but you still haven't made any sort of appearance in three days. You've been sneaking things out of the kitchen, too, so that you don't have to make a trip down there, haven't you?" he asked. She glared at him.

"No, I have not," she stated firmly. "And you're starting to get on my nerves, Rosto the Piper."

"I apologize. I had no intention of doing so," he said. Beka rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure. And I would also point out that you've been avoiding me, too, if you haven't noticed," she pointed out.

"I wouldn't say that. I've been busy with Rogue business. You know, the things that proved to be too much for you to deal with when I was pursuing you for those first few years?" he asked. Beka considered that for a moment.

"I know. You're still a rusher, so it ain't something that we need to talk about," Beka said. Rosto's eyebrows rose higher.

"Why is it that you've held a grudge this long, Beka?" he asked softly. "It's been what? Twenty years? I'm your friend, and I won't hurt you. You know that," he told her. He reached out to place his hand on her shoulder. Beka flinched back, stiffening. When she did, Rosto's expression changed to a concerned frown.

"Are you doing all right?" he asked. Beka nodded. For a moment, the expression on his face brought memories back to the surface. Memories that she wasn't interesting in reliving.

"I'm fine," she said softly, turning to walk farther into her room.

"No you aren't," Rosto disagreed. A moment later, he was directing her toward the closest place to sit – her bed. Beka put Alex back into his crib (much to his dissatisfaction) and returned to sit next to Rosto. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

Beka looked at Rosto for a moment, the expression of concern – and caring – on his scarred face, and promptly burst into tears. She didn't really know why, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to cry, much less have Rosto see her cry. A moment later, he was closer than ever and his arms were around her, holding her to his chest as he tried to comfort her. It didn't take long for her to get herself back under control, though: just another moment later, she pulled back and wiped the tears off of her face. She chanced a guilty look at Rosto, who was watching her, concern still evident in his dark eyes.

"Do you think you can tell me now?" he asked softly, reaching out to touch her again. Beka stiffened and recoiled, which confused him all the more.

"You don't want to know," she said softly. Rosto gave her a look for that one – he knew that it was a lie. She wanted to tell someone, but she was reluctant to tell him, and he knew it.

"Beka, I know you're lying," he told her. "It may have been years ago that we were somewhat close, but I still know you, even if I hated you for a little while," he continued with a sigh. He didn't like to admit it, but he had indeed hated her – he'd blamed her for everything that had happened to him, starting with being imprisoned and scarred. Beka frowned at him.

"Is this really that important to you?" she asked. "Why are you so concerned about me right now? I'm not your doxie, and I won't be," she reminded him. Rosto gave her another look – one of annoyance and displeasure.

"I'm not that stupid, Beka, and I haven't made any advances on you since you moved in, have I?" he asked. Beka considered that for a moment.

"No, you haven't…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

"Then why won't you listen to me when I say that I'm not interested in you being my mot," he said. He wasn't lying about that either. Rosto had made it very clear that he wasn't interested in her like that. Instead, he'd been trying to be her friend. It had taken him a couple of months to be able to let go of the bitterness and anger he'd held against her for so long. In the end, though, the attraction was still there. He just wasn't going to admit it – not even to himself.

Maybe if he just ignored it, it would go away.

"And I have Viviana, to begin with, and she's willing enough to fill that position," he added. Beka pursed her lips. "You know, if you tell me, you won't feel so bad about it…"

"You are incorrigible," Beka told him. Rosto smirked at her.

"Wouldn't be me if I wasn't, now would I?" he replied smartly. Beka smacked him on the arm – the first contact she'd made with him so far that she hadn't flinched at. "Ow! Beka…" Rosto gave her a warning look.

"What? That couldn't have hurt that much," she pointed out. Rosto sighed.

"Fine. I'll just leave, then," he said, making a motion to rise from his seat on her bed. An instant later, her hand was on his arm.

"Wait, Rosto. Don't. You're right. I do need to talk about this," she told him in a quiet voice. "But you have to swear that you won't tell anyone – not even Viviana. Please?" Rosto looked at her, a slight crease between his eyebrows. Beka was looking at him, pain in her blue eyes. It was the kind of pain he'd felt before, though it had been long past, at his sister's funeral.

"All right. I won't go," he said, nodding his head a little. A slight smile played on her lips.

"Thank you."

There was a moment of silence after she spoke. Beka closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She hated how Rosto could make her so scattered – and he didn't always mean to. Those brown eyes of his really didn't help matters…

"Do you remember when I came here, six months ago, to ask for your help, and what I told you then?" she asked. Rosto paused for a moment, then nodded. "Well, I didn't really tell you the whole truth. What I said was true, though. I was kicked out of the Dogs, and I made some bad choices afterwards. I'll start there. It was about…three and a half years ago," she started. Instantly, a frown appeared on Rosto's face.

"About six months after the last time I'd seen you?" he asked suddenly. Beka's own expression changed to one of thought as she considered that.

"I think so. Why?" she asked. Rosto clenched his teeth for a moment, looking away.

"That was about the time I'd been arrested," he told her. There was a moment of silence before Beka finally spoke again.

"Was it…there was a riot, that day. I'd been chasing a Rat, and I got separated from Tunstall – and then I was jumped from behind and hit in the head with something. From what I was told by the mot who found me, I'd probably been there for about three days after that. I'm not really sure what happened, to be perfectly honest. I staggered my way back to my lodgings, which, as you know, I'd moved because Mistress Trout had sold the building," she said. Rosto considered this before he nodded in agreement.

"I think that was just after my arrest," he said. "Ersken told me that they had a riot over the fact that I'd been arrested. The guards who got me apparently had one of those spelled herbal mixtures that can put someone into some sort of trance. You know, the kind that they use to get folk who they're arresting to be obedient until it wears off?" Rosto paused and waited for Beka's affirmative nod. She did know what he meant. "My mind was all fogged up until it was practically too late, anyway," he told her. Beka nodded again.

"No one said anything about your arrest to me," she told him. "My head hurt so bad at that point that the only thing I could do was sleep. Two days later, I was able to go back to the Kennel, and at that point, no one had known where I was for five days, and I'd lost all chances of redeeming myself. I swear I've never seen Goodwin or Tunstall so disappointed. And it was all because of me…" Beka trailed off, tears in her eyes again. "I'd messed up. I hadn't been vigilant, and it was too late by then. The Watch Commander hated me, as it was, and was just looking for an excuse to get rid of me. He ordered Goodwin to do it, and threatened her job, and at least three of the other senior Dogs, Tunstall included," she continued. Rosto reached out and put his hand on hers.

"It's okay, Beka. It's all over and done with," he said softly. Beka tried to force a smile, but failed miserably. His hand on hers was so disturbing. Her skin felt like it was burning, almost repulsed by his touch. But there was also something…almost comforting about it. Either way, it was distracting, and she didn't like that.

"That's part of the problem, Rosto. It's not over and done with. You said six months ago that a Dog is always a Dog. I'm one through and through. I've never wanted anything else, nor do I, even now. But I can't have it. I can't be a Dog anymore, and even if I could, what would happen to Alex if I got myself killed?" she asked him. Rosto pursed his lips.

"That's a worry for another time. You're not a working Dog, and you – and your son – are safe here," he reminded her. Beka nodded, looking down at her lap, where his hand still rested.

After a long moment, he moved his hand, though, in his mind, it was somewhat regretfully that he did so. It had been a long time since they had been this close, and she hadn't really let him touch her in any way since she had come to the Dove, always flinching just out of reach or making an excuse when he would try. Beka took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a split second before continuing.

"Things were a bit of a blur after that," she told him. "Do you remember Dyrian?" she asked. He nodded. "Well, he'd been courting me for several months, as you probably remember. All I remember is that I needed someone to comfort me, and being so desperate and crushed that, honestly, I needed to know that he cared. I had a few drinks – not many, but definitely too many and we ended up in bed together, and a cycle started. It was just like that. Every night. Eventually, he got tired of me and my 'needs,' as he put it. I was still hurting at that point, and it wasn't until a few weeks later that I realized that I was carrying Alex. He was what I needed to turn it around. Dyrian had abandoned me, and I'd been living in the shabbiest part of the City that wasn't the Cesspool. It wasn't pretty, Rosto," she told him. "I know how they live, and I don't want that for Alex," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

"It's okay, Beka," Rosto told her softly. He was trying to resist touching her again, for her benefit. "If anything happens to you, Alex will be fine. Vi and I can take care of him, and should anything happen to the two of us after that, Kora and Ersken would be more than willing to raise him," he told her. Beka nodded, trying to force her tears away again. Why was it that she could talk to him like this so…so easily? She and Rosto hadn't been friends in years, and suddenly, while they were still trying to figure out if they could be, she was pouring her heart out to him. That just didn't seem right. But, he was right about it – she needed to tell someone, and she hadn't, before him, that is.

"I had scoffed most of the offers of help I'd been given, but I pulled together the money I could – Lady Teodorie turned me out when I went to see her, because I'd gone and gotten myself pregnant like she'd told me not to. She forbade me to see my siblings, and to even go the my lord's house. But Goodwin and Tunstall were so helpful, to the point where they let me stay at one of their homes when I didn't have enough, and once I had gotten so far along that I couldn't find any sort of work that I could actually do," she said. "Goodwin helped me so much, and after Alex was born, she watched him during the day when I would try to find some sort of work…." She trailed off, fighting tears again.

"But I couldn't stay there too long – while she and her husband are well enough on their own, I was a burden, and I knew it," she said. Rosto opened his mouth to ask a question but she silenced him. "They were very kind to me, and I had enough saved by that point that I could live on my own. I moved into the apartment I was at before I came to you, and you can guess the rest of the story," Beka told him.

"Beka…" Rosto trailed off, a sad look on his face. He stopped, unable to think of anything comforting to say. She sighed. She was glad that the weight on her chest had lightened, but Beka still wasn't sure that telling Rosto had really been the right thing to do.

Then again, she hadn't really seen Ersken, since he'd been so busy, and he'd been her closest friend when she had been in the Dogs. But then, he'd made a point to ignore her shyness and be her friend, whereas she hadn't really allowed herself to make friends for the most part because of that blasted shyness. Rosto, Aniki, and Kora had done sort of the same thing – they'd made their way past the shield, and become friends with her because they liked her. Well, except for Rosto and his insistence that she needed a man and that he was the one she needed.

But now, here he was, sitting next to her, listening to her when she needed to get it out, and actually caring. Maybe he really did care about her, even after he'd hated her for the last few years.

One thing she couldn't figure out, though, was that, if he had hated her, why hadn't he sent a rusher after her, or anything like that? He was the Rogue, after all, and had Rats at his beck and call. Maybe, deep down, he had still cared. Or maybe not. Maybe he just hadn't bothered, or it was because they had once been friends, like they were again, now that the reasons that they hadn't been seemed to have been removed.

"I am certainly sorry, Beka." It was Rosto's voice, snapping her out of her thoughts. "I…I'm sorry that you had to go through all of that. But I'm glad you're here now," he said. Beka looked up at his dark, dark brown eyes for a moment, and looked away almost immediately.

"So am I," she admitted after a long silence. "I appreciate what you've done for me," she added. "It was very kind of you."

"It's no more than I would do if Kora or Ersken came to me for help," he replied. In truth, though, he wanted to say more, but he knew that what he was feeling was wrong – for the moment, at least. He'd made promises to Viviana, and he wasn't going to break them, or even push Beka toward that. The feelings were irrational and unwelcome – he would rather have dealt with the remnants of those feelings when he had stopped chasing Beka. That had been years ago, the last attempt being three years after the Port Caynn incident, and that had been seven years before. Rosto was now in his early thirties, and Beka in her late twenties. They had both changed a great deal. Half the time, Rosto didn't think he even knew Beka anymore when he heard her talking about things with Viviana.

There was a point, though, where he did wonder - if things had turned out differently after one of those cases - the Shadow Snake, Port Caynn, or any of the others – would their lives be any different. Would Beka be happy then? Would he have been different, even?

"Rosto? Are you all right?" Beka's voice suddenly penetrated his thoughts. Rosto glanced at her with a strange expression on his face.

"Uh, yes, I am. I was just thinking," he said.

"Mama! Hungry!" Alex suddenly piped up from his crib. He was looking at Beka and Rosto expectantly and almost seemed like he was disappointed in them for delaying his breakfast. More than likely, he was. Rosto chuckled and got up, walking over to the crib with Beka on his heels. He looked down at the toddler, raising his eyebrows. Alex grinned impishly at him until Beka picked him up again.

"Come on, let's get you some breakfast," she said, smiling at her son for a moment. When she looked back at Rosto, what she saw startled her. He was watching her, and the expression on his face was completely unguarded and full of immense caring. Beka's eyes met his for a moment before she looked away and blushed.

When she looked back, he was gone. She could hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway, toward the stairs. One thing she would say – Rosto had a way of making her feel so many things that she didn't know what to feel, and he was definitely the most confusing man she had ever met.

Posted 8/10/09