NOTE: This story begins just a few days after Rose disappeared, leaving behind the note for Mycroft in "Caring Is Not An Advantage" (chapter 7).

Everyone had warned her against taking this job. He'll work you half to death; he's exacting and the work never really stops; say goodbye to holidays and any semblance of a stress free life. If rumors were true, she had just been hired by the most dangerous and powerful man in the British government. Anthea relished the opportunity for her intelligence to be challenged, to learn the inner workings of what really went on in the government of her country. Many had come before her, failed, and been discharged, but she would not be one of them.

What Anthea had not expected on her first day working for Mycroft Holmes was what she discovered upon entering his office. Rather than appearing to be fully in control of all around him, she found a tired and troubled man, his head in his hands. He was the physical embodiment of someone with the world on their shoulders if ever there was one.

"Sir, I have the reports you requested yesterday," Anthea said quietly. "Benchley alerted me to the request before taking her leave." Crossing the room, she placed the folder on top of his desk and stood there, slowly looking her boss up and down, digesting every iota of information about him. "Is there something you'd like me to do for you sir? Your first appointment is at noon and Her Majesty has requested you to come for tea at 4:30."

Taking a deep breath, Mycroft sat up and schooled his features so as to offer a persona of calm control. He gave her an appraising look before pushing a folder in her direction. "This cannot go further than this room without my express authorization," he began. "I need you to find someone. Hack Interpol, run every facial recognition software you can think of, and gain access to every camera you can find in Vienna."

Anthea opened the folder and examined the photo of a young girl. Her blue eyes were bright and she smiled prettily, her face framed by long, dark curls. The paperwork was headed with the name Rosenwyn Holmes. "I'll get started right away sir," she agreed, closing the folder.

"The identity of my sister is strictly a secret," Mycroft told her. "Your must be discreet in your enquiries because there are many people in this world who would like nothing more than to know her name and location so they could use her against me. The reason why I am searching for her is irrelevant; your task is merely to do all within your power to locate her as quickly as possible. She was last seen at an airport in Vienna two days ago. Time is of the essence."

The sun, shining warm and bright in a window, gently roused Rose from her sleep. Blinking to clear the sleepiness from her eyes, she slowly took in her surroundings. This bed was not her own, and this room was not hers either, and, if she wanted to think about it that way, the sun wasn't hers either. The sun in London was not the same as the sun in Rome. It felt oddly stronger and warmer, seemingly highlighting the fact that she was far from home, just another stranger in a big city.

Part of her was amazed that Mycroft hadn't found her yet, though she had taken considerable measures to keep him from doing that. After arriving in Vienna, Rose had more or less ditched her own identity and became Tracy Samantha Lord, a nod to one of her favorite films and her favorite actress of all time, Katharine Hepburn. The international airport had aided Rose in assuming her new identity, offering a full salon which she had immediately taken advantage of. Her shoulder length curls were cut to a short bob, her hair bleached an ordinary shade of blonde. Colored contacts, which Rose had purchased before leaving London, changed her eyes from blue to green, completing the physical changes of her identity.

Her hat and jacket had been turned in to the airport's lost and found and new ones purchased from one of the many stores, a drab brown colored pea coat and matching newsboy cap. Once she was dressed appropriately for February weather in Vienna and had purchased a burner mobile, Rose kept her head down as she made her way to a nearby hostel. After a brief but restorative sleep, Rose woke at 5am and went to the local train station to purchase a ticket to Rome, a fourteen hour journey during which she developed her background story and repeated it to herself over and over again in order to burn it into her brain.

I'm Tracy Lord, eighteen years old, an orphan. I just graduated from school. My parents died recently and I am looking to start a new life somewhere. Only child, no living relatives.

And now, here she was, waking up under the Italian sun. The day's first order of business was food, followed by a job search. After dressing and shoving some money and her important documents into her pockets, Rose locked up her backpack and headed out to familiarize herself with Rome.

One Week Later

Rose flopped onto her bed in her first little 'house' exhausted from a long night of work. Weekends were for partying everywhere, she had learned, and the restaurant and bar where she had begun waitressing was among the busiest in this section of the city. She looked around her surroundings, a small studio like flat above the restaurant, which was owned and operated by a large family, had everything a girl could need. It had been strange to go home to her own place, rather than stay at a hostel at night, but Rose had jumped at the chance for some privacy and space even if it was a small space indeed.

The family she was working for had seemed to take her under their wing. Rose was the only non family member employed by the restaurant and hadn't had to offer any references in order to land the job. The owner was so delighted she spoke Italian like a native as well as English that he had offered her the job on the spot, along with the little flat. It had taken some cleaning, but Rose didn't mind the hard work and was proud to have a place to call her own and the semblance of a normal, routine life. She really didn't miss her brothers at all!

Well… not much anyway. And not when she was busy with something that kept her from thinking about them. Tonight, however, she was a bit lonely and wondered if Mycroft was even looking for her. Part of her was slightly disappointed he hadn't tracked her down by now, but for the most part she was glad. Perhaps he had listened to what she said in her letter to not come find her.

Yes, Rose thought. That had to be it. He was respecting her wishes. As she snuggled under the duvet, she reached for Teddy, her beloved bear that Mycroft gave her the day she was born, and hugged it tightly.

The next morning, a sunny Sunday, found Rose at the restaurant once again. The eatery had its regulars and each waitress seemed to have a few people or a small group that requested a certain waitress's section. Rose's was by far the busiest, with a group of five or six Italian businessmen who came in almost daily for coffee and stayed through the lunch hour loudly discussing their work. Rose consciously tried not to listen to what they had to say, because it was none of her business and something told her they chose her section because she was British rather than Italian. Perhaps they thought they would find more privacy in her area, rather than a waitress straining her ears for the latest tips of stocks or up and coming ventures in Rome. While she could speak and understand Italian fluently, she didn't flaunt that ability, nor did she appear overly interested in the various conversations that took place all over the restaurant.

This morning, however, her regulars arrived with someone new in tow. Tall, dark and handsome, the very epitome of that cliché, the new man of the group was without a doubt the most gorgeous specimen of the male sex that Rose had ever seen. He was in his early twenties, compared to the forty or better years of the rest of the men, and his eyes lit up as he saw Rose. Those dark eyes, like pools of melted chocolate, raked her up and down and, as best Rose could tell, liked what he saw.

"Good morning," she greeted her guests, gathering several menus. "This way please gentlemen." As Rose led the way to their usual table, she swore she could feel his eyes watching her every move. When the men sat, she handed out the menus before turning away from the table to give them a moment to decide. Just as she stepped away, she felt a hand on her wrist and turned to look back at the table.

"Ciao bella," the handsome young man greeted her. "I have not seen you here before."

Rose gave him a smile, trying hard not to blush. "I'm fairly new. Is there something I can get you right away? A coffee perhaps?"

"Your name, bella?"

"Tracy." The new name rolled off Rose's tongue as if it had always belonged to her.

"Tracy," he repeated. "I'm Damiano."

"Coffees," one of the other men spoke up. It was only then that Rose realized Damiano was still holding her wrist. Their eyes locked as he withdrew his hand so she could place the order and Rose felt as if she could get lost forever in those eyes. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as she went to get the requested coffees.

"Oooh, someone likes you," one of the other waitresses said. "Handsome, no?"

"Very," Rose agreed. "Have you seen him before?"

Apollonia nodded. "Yes, he usually comes in with that group. One of them is his father. Those are very powerful men," she added. "Good tippers too, hm?"

"They are rather generous," Rose admitted. "What do they do exactly?"

"Many things, I have heard. Their fingers in all the pies. That is how the saying goes, yes?" Apollonia replied.

Rose laughed. "Close enough." She wasn't entirely sure what to make of her new friend's comments. One heard sayings like that about gangs and mafia in the states, or terrorist organizations around the world. They looked like ordinary business men to her, but rumor mills ran wild in Italy as much as they did anywhere else, she imagined. Giving the other waitress a smile, she loaded the coffees onto a tray and made her way back across the room.

Four hours later the business meeting broke up and the men departed, with the exception of the handsome younger man. "What do you do for fun, bella?" he asked Rose as he handed over payment.

"Not much," Rose replied, feeling her face grow warm. "Just work. I haven't been in Italy all that long." She counted out the change for him and handed it over, surprised when he pressed a large bill back into her hand.

"Your tip bella. Lunch was very… enjoyable." Damiano gave her a positively sultry look that made Rose blush furiously. "So shy?" he teased. "Do you like gelato Tracy?"

She nodded. "Who doesn't? Especially when it's the authentic stuff right here in Rome."

"What time are you off bella?"

Rose's heart began thudding once more. Oh good god, was this gorgeous man going to ask her out? "Five," she said a bit breathlessly.

Damiano grinned at her. "We'll have gelato then. I'll get you at six, yes?"

"Yes. You can collect me here, I live close by," Rose told him. She was certain that she was grinning like an idiot and only hoped it was a pretty grin and not a stupid one. Her smile grew even bigger and brighter when Damiano winked at her and took his leave.

Rose and Damiano sat along the base of the Trevi Fountain with containers of gelato from Gelato Di Sans Crispino. It was a peaceful evening as the sun descending and casting shadows across the square. It was both beautiful and breathtaking, but both parties were much more interested in one another than their impressive surroundings.

"Oh… my… god," Rose murmured around a mouthful of gelato. "It's my favorite thing in the world as a gelato. If this isn't heaven, I haven't a clue what is."

Damiano laughed loudly. "Coffee is your favorite thing in the world? You would make a very good Italian! How have you not come here yet? How long have you been here?"

"It is, I am guilty of being a massive coffee addict," she told him with a smile. "I got busy working and haven't been able to explore much. I've only been here just over a week so I'm still very new to Rome and to my job."

"Then I think the time has come to explore Rome," Damiano told her. "Starting tonight. Soon people will come fill this whole area, as it's a big spot for tourists. When they come disturb us, perhaps we'll go dancing. Do you like dancing, bambolina?"

"Bambolina?" Rose asked. She knew what the word meant, but wanted to hear him say it.

Damiano smiled at her. "Little doll. You are very little and lovely, like a porcelain doll. But you did not answer my question."

"I do like to dance and would love to see some of the night life around here!" Rose admitted. "Did you want to try some of my coffee gelato?" She scooped some up in her spoon and held it out towards him. Much to her surprise, he leaned over and kissed her soundly instead. His kiss was gentle, yet belied hunger beneath it, causing shivers to go up and down her spine

"Delicious," he murmured when he pulled away, eyeing her appreciatively.

Her face went red and she could feel how hot it was. That had been her first proper kiss and it was as unexpected as it was amazing. "I meant on the spoon," Rose murmured shyly.

"Ah, my shy bambolina. I like you very much," Damiano decided. "We'll have much fun together, yes?"

"Yes," she repeated, giving him a smile. Though she was calm and smiling on the outside, she was jumping with excitement on the inside.

"Come then, we will go dancing before the crowd arrives." He pulled her to her feet and wrapped an arm possessively around her waist.

While Rose was enjoying gelato and her first kiss, Mycroft and Anthea were still furiously trying to locate her, spending long hours working in mostly silence as they did. "I don't understand it sir," Anthea finally spoke up. "She just disappears. Gets off the plane and then I lose her in the crowd every time. Facial recognition can't track her among that crowd."

"She's petite," Mycroft admitted. "And undoubtedly knows how to avoid being spotted by a camera if she wants to."

"She must very much want to," Anthea replied quietly. She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth, as a look of sadness oh-so-briefly crossed her employer's face. "I know this isn't my business, but it might help my search efforts if I know why she left. If you know, that is. Was it a boyfriend?"

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand. "It was not. I will say this once, and only once. It was my fault she left. I drove her away, and I would give anything to have her back. Anything." He expected an inquisition from his PA after saying something like that. Even in the short time she had been working for him, she knew his methods and how he operated and that emotional entanglements were not to be tolerated.

Rather than ask any questions, however, Anthea merely nodded. "I'll expand the search to Austria at large and focus on the border." Without another word she exited his office and went back to her desk to widen the search.

After their night on the town, Damiano and Rose became inseparable and as each week faded into the next, Rose found herself falling more and more in love with her handsome Italian. Rarely did she give a thought to her brothers back in London, feeling happier than she had in a very long time. Her happiness caused her to turn a blind eye to things that she should have noticed.

Her employer, Gino, watched with growing concern as she and Damiano spent more and more time together. He had lived in Rome for a very long time and the Baresi family, Damiano's family, had a certain reputation. Their business ventures were lucrative fronts for illicit activities that kept local authorities on high alert, hoping to catch them in the act of selling armaments to any number of groups or organizations, or distributing meth and cocaine to the city's most elite clubs. The Baresi's took what they wanted when they wanted it and did not take no for an answer.

Gino himself had run into problems with them when he first started his restaurant. They tried to dictate where he purchased his food and liquor from and when he refused to patronize somewhere merely because they told him too, the Baresis had put word out that no one should come to his restaurant. Gino and his wife had had no choice but to give in and purchase supplies from people associated with the Baresis and once they did, their business boomed.

They made a good living from the restaurant and were able to have a large, happy family thanks to that success and Gino never took that for granted, knowing that with one word they could be ruined if the Baresi family dictated it. That was why their meetings were held at his restaurant, because they could gather there unmolested by authorities and were guaranteed the silence of he and his family members. It certainly didn't hurt that they never had to pay full price for their meals if they didn't feel like it.

Based on his own interactions with the Baresi family and the rumors that ran throughout the city, many of which were likely to be true, Gino couldn't help but be concerned as he saw the growing attachment between his waitress and Damiano Baresi. He felt honor bound to warn her about who she was spending her time with and decided to do so one morning before the restaurant opened.

"You've been spending a lot of time with Damiano, yes?" Gino asked.

Rose nodded and smiled. "He's wonderful. He spoils me and we go to so many wonderful places together. He likes to dance and loves jazz, he's just perfect," she gushed, her face alight with happiness.

Gino sighed heavily. "Tracy, I am going to say something you will not like, but as your parents are dead and Arianna and our whole family have come to like you so much, I feel as though I must."

By this point Rose was used to being addressed by her alias and it sounded as natural in reference to her as her own name did. She frowned slightly at his words and apprehension sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"Damiano… He comes from a very powerful family Tracy. They are involved in dangerous things, illegal things, and I am worried about you spending so much time with him. You might get caught up in something and find yourself in trouble. I think… I think you should not spend more time with him. There is enough trouble in this world without creating more for one's self, yes?" Gino looked hopeful that she would take his words to heart, as they were words said with the very best of intentions.

It took Rose a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. She didn't want to insult her boss, who was a kind man, someone she liked and respected, but her love life was really no one's business but her own. "Thank you, Gino for your concern but I really think it's entirely misplaced. Damiano is a really wonderful guy and I've never seen him do, or even say, anything that would make him seem dangerous. I really, really like him and he likes me too," Rose stressed. "I can't break up with him merely because there's rumors and suspicion of things I've never seen evidence of." Not to mention Rose was quite certain they were in love, but she didn't want to reveal that to Gino.

"You must do as you see fit, Tracy," Gino said quietly. He knew there was no arguing with her. She was not his child and she was quite headstrong. Arguing would do little more than push her further into Damiano Baresi's arms. "We will talk no more about it, if you wish. Just be careful. Watch out for yourself."

"I will," Rose promised. "Thank you for trying to look out for me. I really do appreciate it." She gave the man a hug before getting back to work. Surely her kind-hearted boss was just being protective of her. There couldn't really be any truth to what the man said… Could there?

Across the city, Rome's top policemen were gathered for an important meeting. They had been attempting to build a case against the Baresi family for arms trafficking and large scale drug distribution for far too long, but had always been one step behind, that whole family moving like a well oiled machine.

"I think, gentlemen, we have found our in," the senior officer spoke. He put several photographs on the table and stepped back to allow them to be examined. Rose featured prominently in each photo, most of which included Damiano Baresi. "His new girl, a Londoner, young and naïve. We're going to trail her and see if she will lead us into the lion's den. Now find out everything you can about her and get men following her at once."

It wasn't long after Gino tried to warn her against Damiano that Rose began to notice things that she hadn't before. It was almost as if her employer's words had reawakened an instinct that she had allowed to go dormant in her new sunny, gelato filled life. London and Mycroft seemed so far away and very long ago, as if she had left it all behind years prior rather than a mere four weeks times.

Money was the first tip-off that things were not all what they seemed. Damiano never lacked for cold hard case, regularly filling the tank of his motorbike, buying meals out at fancy restaurants and spending large sums at the hottest dance clubs. Having money to burn was certainly not a crime, but Rose realized she had no actual idea what it was Damiano, or his family, did for a living.

Once Rose began thinking about it, she realized that there were several little things off about Damiano, each innocuous enough on its own, but combined could spell trouble. They never went to the same club two nights in a row and no matter which one they were in, Damiano would consistently disappear for a solid twenty minutes before he wrapped his arms around her protectively once more. One night at a club stood out in particular in her mind. After he pulled his disappearing act, Rose made her way towards the ladies room at the back of the club. There was, as usual, a line and as she stood awaiting her turn she could make out Damiano's voice coming from the manager's office nearby. His voice was loud and angry, and Rose knew she would recognize it anywhere despite the noise of the club in general. She never asked him about it, hoping that ignorance really was bliss, as the saying went.

Shortly after hearing the argument at the club, Rose began to notice that she was being followed. Initially she tried to dismiss it, but she was in fact being followed by at least three different men in dark clothes. She had now been gone for five weeks- had MI 5 or someone else of that ilk been sent by Mycroft to retrieve her? Or were they men who worked for Damiano's family? Some sort of Italian authorities? It was unsettling that she couldn't pinpoint who specifically was following her and why, but as the days slipped past the idea of MI-5 or anyone Mycroft related dwindled away as surely they would have packed her off home to London by now. Plus, she noticed them, meaning they weren't especially good at their job which eliminated Mycroftian agents; her brother would never suffer stupid personnel.

Perhaps it was getting to be time to move on and find someplace new. But how could she leave Damiano? They were in love, she was sure of it! Yet Rose couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. "Maybe I'll make plans just in case," she mused out loud. "I probably won't need them, but it would be good to have them just in case." Rose looked over at her 'confidant', Teddy, as if the little bear in her pink footed pajamas might possibly have some words of wisdom for her. Sadly, Teddy had nothing to say.

"I want you to come meet my family," Damiano said softly.

They were cuddling on her couch, watching old Italian movies on the telly and sharing a double dark chocolate gelato. It was cozy and homey and could almost make Rose forget that she had cause to be suspicious, to be alarmed. She hadn't mentioned the men following her to Damiano, nor did she speak Italian fluently in his presence, all indicators that she didn't trust him. That she should use her contingency plan and leave, never stopping to look behind her, but her head and her heart were pulling her apart.

Damiano pressed a kiss to her temple. "Mama has been begging me to bring my new girl home for a good meal."

Rose smiled and arched an eyebrow. "Your new girl?" she echoed. "Sounds like you've brought many girls home." He laughed, a warm laugh that made her stomach flip-flop with… enjoyment? Desire? Love?

"Perhaps. But you are my very favorite," he murmured in her ear. Seconds later he began to nibble on her ear lobe gently, drawing a squeak of surprise from her. "So shy, my bambolina. There's so much I can teach you."

If ever there was a definition of a seductive tone it was his at that moment and Rose felt her heart lurch. When he drew her closer she melted against him, giving him soft little kisses along his jaw line as his hand caressed her arm. Slowly it moved lower until his hand was cupping her breast. As soon as she felt it, Rose gasped and jerked herself out of his grasp.

With a sigh Damiano shook his head. "I think you tell me lies bambolina."

Her heart began to beat erratically. What did he know? How did he know it?

"You tell me you are a nice girl from a nice family in London, but it is not true," he asserted. "You were raised by nuns and have escaped from your convent, no?"

Images of The Sound of Music floated through Rose's head as she began to laugh. That had most definitely not been what she expected him to say! Her relief was palpable though, especially when he laughed along with her. "Of course not! I'm not a convent runaway, I promise." Runaway, yes; runaway from a convent; definitely not. Rose gave him a shy smile once her laughter had subsided. "I just want to go slow is all. No reason to rush. We have all the time in the world, right?"

Damiano smiled but there was something in his eyes that bothered her. Something that made Rose feel as if she was a prize to be won, a sort of trophy, a conquest and that he was certain her defenses would crumble. The thought of it was both flattering and frightening.

"Will you come?" he asked, pulling her back into his arms. "Come meet my family?"

Despite herself, Rose murmured her agreement and only hoped she wasn't going to regret it.