How life treated you was totally dependant on how you looked at it, that's what Natalya always believed. Look at her fellow immortals, they refer to the time they first become woke up as their "first death". She always thought of it as her "new life". Living for hundred of years, seeing mankind grow along the way. How could anybody see that as a negative? Granted there was the whole Game thing and the other immortals trying to cut your head off in order to win it thing. But you couldn't have the good without some bad.

And she would never forget that day either. She thought she was dead, in fact she did die, then she came back and experienced the buzz for the first time. The feelings of confusion and fear she experienced when she woke up in total darkness. Then the doors behind her opened up and she realized she was in what was a hearse at the time. Her Father was the one who opened the door and let her out. Another bomb was dropped on her when he told he wasn't really her father and that she would now be nineteen years old forever. And she never looked back.

Her life after that was totally different. Her father took her and she met other like them. Natalya was surprised at how many of them they were. Yet after it all she still had a feeling her Father was leaving some thing out. He always said she was a little too inquisitive for her own good. But it was obvious to here something was off. They way her Father would change subjects or speak in hushed tones with other immortals whenever she was around. How he would act all different when another immortal paid her a little too much attention. Especially if that person had a particular sinister look in their eyes. Of course after that her Father would take them someplace and she'd never see them again. After all of that happening for so long how could she not wonder what was going on?

Determined to know what was going on she followed him one night, making sure to stay far enough behind he couldn't sense her. At the time she was positive it was because he was trying to protect her purity. She wasn't stupid she saw how most men looked at her, but she knew she could take care of herself if it came down to it. When her father finally arrived to his destination she saw the particular ruffian who was giving her a hard time earlier. Natalya was expecting them to have some words then her Father would send the brute running. Then both of them drew swords and they started dueling. Her first instinct was to rush down there and help him but he made her promise to stay at the side if she ever saw him duel with someone. At the time he assured her it was a mater of honor and nothing more, something she understood. Watching in awe of the duel she assumed it was over once he stabbed the brute through. Her heart stop as her Father, the nicest, kindest and most honest person she had ever known, took the man's head without a second thought. She watched dumbstruck as lightning emerged from the headless body and struck her Father repeatedly. Natalya ran back to the palace they were staying at and tried to drive out her Father's voice screaming in pain.

The next day he noticed how nervous she was and asked what was wrong. She told him she had a nightmare, he assured her it was nothing and she would be fine later. It wasn't a total lie, all she saw in her head that night was her Father cutting off that man's head. A few years later he had to leave her for the night, saying he had some business dealing to take care of and that he would be back in the morning. Again she thought about that night as curiosity started to get the best of her. She knew from an earlier experience there was an immortal living in a hobble in a nearby village. She knew she couldn't duel him like her father did the other one, but she had to know what that lightning storm was about and what it felt like. Something inside her wouldn't stop nagging until she found out. So she did the only thing she could, used how men looked at her to her advantage. To say he was disgusting as he had her way with her didn't even begin to describe it. Eventually he rolled off of her and fell asleep. Getting off the bed she looked round and saw a broadsword nearby. The sword was shaking in her hands her nerves was so bad but she did it. She took his head in one stroke and waited. She wouldn't know until decades later that it was called a Quickening but it was nothing like she could ever imagine in a thousand years. A pain she never knew existed ripped through her body but it was soon over as she dropped to the ground. Despite of what it did something inside of Natalya was driving her to find another immortal, she had to experience that again.

Her father was keeping all of it from her, so Natalya knew she wasn't supposed to know about it so she had to be careful. Waiting until he was called away or had business out of town she would searched out the closest male immortal and did the same thing over and over. But she was always careful to keep those experiences as far apart as possible out of fear Father would find out. Then she met a man named Owen McAllister and everything changed. He didn't fall for her trick, well he fell for part of it too bad he was a light sleeper. She learned the hard way that there was more to her life than what she thought there was and there were rules to follow. And all the time after she never knew why her Father didn't tell all of it and prepare her properly for the game. Deep down she knew Owen was right and he was trying to protect her. But now she'll never know what he intended to do if they were the last two. Then again it was probably a good thing that she'd never now, it kept her from thinking ill of the only Father she had ever known.

Now a days she did like her fellow immortals and tried to keep as a low a profile as possible. But there was a certain lifestyle she was accustomed to that she couldn't leave behind no matter how hard she tried. Thanks to her upbringing she could usually nail a high end job no problem. Like her current position at a posh art gallery. She bought and appraised paintings for the various clients they had. She was currently examining a painting this pompous windbag she was currently dealing with who was quite found of. She had to keep from laughing as he went over the history of the painting. The fake smile she plastered on her face was starting to hurt. She was almost grateful for the distraction the buzz gave her right before the bell over the door signaled that it was opening. She looked over and gave a genuine smile to Owen as he entered the establishment. The windbag turned up his nose up even more as he caught sight of him. "They'll let anybody I here now I see."

"That is my friend who I invited," Natalya informed him, knowing it wouldn't make a bit of difference.

"There is no accounting for taste," he replied, almost looking bored with the situation. "Now if we can get back to the matter at hand."

"Of course," Natalya replaced the fake grin with a different one. Time to let some wind out of this bag. Taking a good look over the painting she found what she was looking for. "Well you see sir, first let me inform you that while you have an absolutely gorgeous painting. But however it is a, in my personal opinion an incredibly brilliant," she paused a few moment, just for effect, "fake."

"What?!", he exploded. "How dare you say this is fake? This painting has been in my family for generations, given to us by the artist himself. Where the manager? I want to know what kind of credentials you faked to get this job. You obviously had to fuck somebody to get this job."

Dropping the smile she looked deadly serious. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Owen give the poor bastard a sympatric look. "If you will calm down for a second sir," she told him with an authority that took the windbag by surprise. "I will explain to you why this is a fake. If you would look closely here at the lake."

"What about it you fraud?" he demanded regain a part of his ire. Oh this was going to be sweet.

"Well if you know anything about the artist then you would he would always paint the peaks of the waves pointing to the left of the frame. Well if you will take a look at these waves right here." She used the end of a pen to point out a couple of particular ones, "They are pointed to the right."

"So what does that have to do with anything?"

"Well giving the history of the artist's style you would have a very hard time getting what the actual painting is worth from any dealer worth his or her salt," she tried not to looked too pleased, and knew she was failing miserably. He was so mad he was sputtering all the way out for the building. Natalya gave him a cheery wave, "Have a nice day."

Owen gave her a dubious look as he approached her and looked at the painting for himself. "Are you sure this is fake?"

"I should know, I painted it," she told him. "I had to do something while I was locked away in that monastery you stuck me in."

"You were begging to stay if I recall," Owen said dryly. She gave him the "whatever" sign. He looked around the room looking uncomfortable and she knew why too. "I'm surprised you still wanted to see me after what I did."

"I told you I was partially responsible too," she reminded him. A little softer she said, "Thanks for coming to his funeral by the way. I didn't want to be the only one there."

"It was the least I could do after all this time."

Smiling softly as she remembered her father she tried to brighten the mood a bit. Her father did teach her to not dawdle in the moment but to continue looking foreword. "Now I do believe I invited you to dinner so we could catch up on things. My apartment is right across the street, trust me you'll love it." After locking up the shop she took Owen by the hand and led him across the street. He protested slightly to being lead there like a child so she responded with a, "Don't argue with your elders young man." Well she was eighteen years older than he was after all.

She let him into her apartment and took a moment for herself to absorb the feeling of the room. She grew up in Paris so she always had a French influence to her home design. So it was always nice to come home to something familiar, especially after dealing with customers like windbag. Owen took a seat on her couch as she headed for the kitchenette to the side. Fortunately Father insisted she'd learn how to cook when she was younger. "Give me a few moments to get things started, then you can tell me everything that's been going on since the last time I saw you."

"It better be a quick cook time because not a whole lot has happened," he replied.

"Something had to have happened, you can't have been hiding under a rock all this time."

"I got a new student," he said after thinking it over. "He's name Keith, he's a pretty good kid."

"You give him a sword yet?", she asked.

"Not yet," he replied not looking particularly pleased.

"Don't wait to long," she told him after getting the oven going. "One of these days he's going to run into somebody who's not going to care if he can defend himself or not."

"I know I know," he said. "I'm still teaching him how to use one, he's a little slow on the uptake there."

"That's the age we live in I guess," she said. "Then again it took me a while for Susan to teach me how to use a sword properly too." Stepping away from the stove she walked over until she stood in front of him. Playing with the collar of her shirt she teased, "So do you want to search each other for weapons now or later?"

"Natalya," he said looking uncomfortable.

Dropping onto the cushion next to him she crossed her arms and looked annoyed. "You had no problems while you were running from my Father."

"And he was still alive then," Owen said looking ashamed of himself.

"It's who we are Owen," Natalya told him. "I killed peopled you knew and cared about and you had no problem afterwards."

"And they challenged you," he told her.

"And we both knew my Father was going to challenge you the moment he laid eyes on you again. Owen there's nothing to forgive here. If anything I should be on my knees begging for your forgiveness for putting you through all of this."

"Well if you're going to be on your knees…", Owen had a familiar twinkle in his eyes as he gave her a sly grin. She slapped hard him on the chest for even thinking that. The rest of the night it was like old times at least. They talked for what seemed like forever. Then they felt a faint trace of the buzz, "You expecting anybody?"

"Just you," she answered and went to the window. She looked down and saw an eager looking brown haired man looking up at her. Natalya got out of the window and pressed herself against wall looking horrified, "Oh God."

"What is it?", Owen asked as he went to the window and looked out. The man below looked furious the moment he saw him

"What are you doing with my Natalya!", he demanded. Owen just looked at her.

"He's a former student of mine from a few years ago," she explained. "I tried to get rid of him after he became a tad possessive. He never got the hint."

"Natalya!", he cried out again. "You know we were meant to be together. That night in your bedroom where we became one you I knew I could never be with another. Deep down you know it too."

Natalya pinched the bridge of her nose totally embarrassed at what was going on. She knew Owen was staring at her with a stupefied look, "You slept with your student?"

"It was a pity fuck," she said quickly through her teeth. "If I knew it would have lead to all of this I never would have done it." Peeking around the corner to the street she added, "Besides he was really bad at it too. It was over in like two minutes."

"Wow," Owen said while leaning against the wall, Natalya shot him a warning look but he kept going, "you're a slut."

"That wasn't funny the first twenty times you said it and it's not funny now," she snapped at him. "You are so lucky you're in my top three." Looking out the window she shouted at the street, "Go away Tim. You don't need me any more."

"Yes I do and I'll kill any man who get's in the way of what we have."

"We don't have and never had anything!" He kept going on about their destiny and what not. People were going to call the police before too long. And wouldn't that be fun to explain.

"Want me to take care of it?", Owen offered. For a second she actually considered it.

"No," she finally said, "it's my mess I'll clean it up." Pulling a thin blade katana out of it's holder she jumped down to the street. Like a dog Tim followed her into an alley. "I'm challenging you Tim," she said plainly. "Draw your sword."

"Anything for you Natalya," he said as he drew a US artillery sword out of its' hiding place. She came at him striking high. He blocked and parried each strike she aimed at him. She noticed he wasn't making a move to attack her. She got a bad feeling about this but couldn't stop in fear he would pick that moment to take her head. This went on for a few more minutes before she slashed the blade horizontally neck high figuring he would block it too. Instead he dropped his arms and stood there. She couldn't stop in time as she realized what was happening and the blade sliced through his neck with ease. She stood there looking stunned as his body crumpled to the ground, that fucking bastard just let her take his head. Any other thought she had were interrupted while his Quickening assaulted her. She did manage to curse his name for the entire time.

When she got back to her apartment Owen opened the door for her. "You all right?" She said nothing as she dropped the sword by the door. "Maybe I better leave. I already turned off the stove so you don't have to worry about this place burning down."

"No," she said, "it's all right. I'm just stuck with the bastard now. I'm just glad I can't feel him or I'd never be able to sleep at night."

"So when did you start using a katana?", he asked. "Last time I saw you were using a rapier."

"I like to change things up every so often. What's the big deal?"

"You change swords more often than most people change their underwear," he said. "Of course if you ever wore any you'd know that."

"And I have yet to hear you complain about it," she smiled slyly. She started rubbing the side of her neck and tried to stretch it out. "I think I might have pulled something." She started heading to the bedroom while unbuttoning her shirt. "I could really use somebody to help get the kinks out with a good deep massage."

Owen stood in front of the bedroom door with his hands in his pockets. "So are we skipping dinner then? Because I had an early lunch." Her shirt shot out and wrapped around his neck. He didn't put up much of a fight as she pulled him into the bedroom.