.

I enjoyed this---it goes into a few different things, including his popularity with the girls, the fact that he doesn't care, and just one instance out of many in which he learned to fight. If I wrote it anything like what I've got in my head, there's a spot where you'll be laughing "Don't do it, Dimitri, don't say it" at your computer. You'll see.

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"Hey, Dimitri."

A group of fur-coated girls stood against the wall of the old Medvedev building. One of them, the blonde with the blunt bangs and pale complexion, stepped forward as he walked past.

Dimitri halted for a moment. He guessed they were part of Gregorio's constant entourage, who was always trying to see that he "got around". Well, maybe he didn't want to "get around." He concluded Gregorio had clued them in to his winning streak.

"Hey," he replied, as if he didn't really care either way.

The girl batted her pale eyes. "I'm Elena." She gestured to the two behind her. "That's Elishka, and that's Tanya."

The two girls giggled, and Dimitri fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew the names wouldn't stick past the half hour. Never did.

Out of all the things he could have said, he made "Nice to meet you" the one that came out.

"So..." Sensing his disinterest, the girl looked ready to move on. "We'll see you around?" she asked hopefully.

Unlikely. "Yeah, definitely." He turned to bolt.

"Hey!"

Dimitri turned his gaze toward the street corner, where a tall, broad-shouldered guy of about 19---or 30, for all he knew---was lumbering in his direction.

Oh, great.

"You talkin' to my girl?" the creature bellowed, towering over Dimitri.

"Boris, don't," begged the blonde.

"It's fine. I do this all the time." Dimitri stared up at the guy, refusing to cower. "Nope," he answered, "just walking by."

"I don't want to see you 'round here talkin' to my girl."

The little voice was telling Dimitri to quit while he was ahead. It told him, but he rarely listened.

"Funny. I didn't see your name on her. I'm so forgetful---what was it, anyway? Caveman?"

"That's it!" Dimitri looked down just in time to see the ground pull away from him and spin in a circle or two. After that it got very close very fast. And hard.

He picked himself up from the dirt and jumped at the guy swinging, taking as many hits as he gave. The brute was twice Dimitri's size but only half as fast, and had two black eyes within the minute.

Two new voices made themselves heard over the ruckus after a moment. Dimitri was still swinging when his arms were pulled behind him by some force that was prying him backward from the scene.

"Are you listening? Dimitri! Enough! That is enough!" Vlad was shouting. Similarly, the cretin was being reprimanded also, a few feet away, by a giant brute Dimitri could only assume was its father.

"Are you out of your mind?" Vlad had him pinned by the shoulders, his feet were back on the ground, and even then he wasn't paying attention. "Dimitri!"

"I had him beat," he grumbled, wiping the dirt from his face onto his sleeve.

"That isn't the point! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Don't give me that, Vlad. I had it under control. I'm an adult."

"You're seventeen, Dimitri." Vlad let go of him. "You aren't finished yet." He looked tired, like all he really wanted was a cup of the coffee he couldn't afford. "Get your coat."

Dimitri hadn't even noticed he'd lost it. He picked up the ragged scrap of cloth from the ground and slung it over his shoulder, following Vlad silently out of the alley.

After a long, long, wordless moment, Dimitri spoke. "I had him beat," he repeated quietly.

Vlad chuckled wearily. "I know," he conceded. "I know."