Hawks was leaning against the wall of the building on the ground level when the woman came running up the steps in her sky high heels. She could move fast on those damn things. He had less trouble keeping up with Enji Todoroki on foot when he followed him here.

Spying had become a habit, a near obsession with him. He had to know everything concerning certain people whether it was actually his business or not. He wanted to know why his idol, his mentor, had come here to meet her.

And now he wanted to know why she was running away, alone, in five inch platform heels. She was dressed in a form fitting purple dress, the same shade of purple as her shirt from earlier in the day.

For a woman who killed two men and shown no emotion whatsoever, she sure did act like a distraught emotional train wreck after a twenty minute encounter with Enji Toroki. Why that surprised him he did not know. He still did not want to see the cracks in the veneer of his own personal hero.

Distracted by his own thoughts, Hawks turned the corner to find himself face to face with woman who presently looked angry as hell and ready to tear his head off. He nearly bumped into her as she stood with her feet planted wide. The short skirt of her dress had ridden up to her midthigh due to her stance. Her hands, one still clutching her little purple purse, curled into fists and jammed into her hips swathed in the skin tight royal purple silk.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded, her voice soft and smooth as the material of her dress but unmistakably threatening.

"I wanted to know why you were meeting Enji Todoroki," he answered bluntly, deciding honesty would be the best policy to keep her from ringing his neck.

She might not kill him, but he had no doubt she would hurt him as much as she could before he subdued her. She worked for the underworld elite after all and had no fear of them whatsoever.

"Ugh," she grunted in annoyance. She slapped him on the shoulder with her little clutch purse gripped in her hand. "Idiot."

Farrah turned on her heel to return to her hotel. She did not have time for this nosy little sycophant following Enji around like a lost puppy.

Hawks finally got past the shock of her understated and somewhat comical reaction to him tailing her.

"Hey, wait!" he yelled, jogging after her to catch up.

"Look, kid. I'm tired and not in the best mood right now. I'm going back to my room to get some much needed sleep. It's been a rough day," she said, continuing at a fast pace down the street. Her destination was still five blocks away.

"You used to be a girlfriend of his?"

"Yep. We all have a past. Even him."

"What happened between the two of you? Back then I mean. Not tonight. But I would like to know about that too actually."

Suddenly she stopped, whirling around to face him. She was much taller than him in her platform heels and had to look down at the face of the obnoxious and persistent blonde. Without her heels she might be an inch or two shorter than him. Presently she enjoyed her position of towering over him.

Her eyes fixated on the red wings folded behind him. He was the flyboy from earlier at the resort. Endeavor's sidekick. He threatened to arrest her. She almost didn't recognize him without the large yellow visor and being dressed in jeans, a red t-shirt, and a high top sneakers. He also had square red earrings piercing his earlobes. She had not seen those earlier either because they were hidden under the headphones protecting his ears.

"Are you Enji's guardian angel or something? Always hovering around him, protecting him, checking up on him?" she asked waving her hands in the air in a motion like a helicopter.

"No, of course not," he snorted derisively at her ridiculous assertions.

"So then you're just a nosy and obsessed fanboy?" she ventured with a mocking grin on her face.

Hawks adopted a bored expression and yawned. He pretended to be unbothered despite that comment stinging just a little. His idol had already been pushed off the pedestal he put him on once, and he did not want to see it happen again.

"You are a pretty little angel," she said without condescension this time. "Enji should be proud he has someone to watch over him."

"He's trying, you know, to be better," he said.

Her direct and unflinching gaze made him nervous, but he stood steadfast, unmoving. Lifting his chin and tilting his head back, he kept his eyes focused on hers. Her eyes were an intense green like the foliage in a rainforest.

"He wants to be a better husband, father, man, and hero," he continued his defense of the man he had always looked up to no matter what. "I won't let anyone ruin that. Especially not someone from his past."

"Sweet angel," she cooed, lifting her hand to gingerly press the tips of her fingers to his cheek.

Hawks flinched away from her touch, backing away from her. His patience with her disdain had reached its end. He glared at her, his eyes becoming molten gold.

"The name is Hawks," he informed her pointedly.

"What's your real name?" Farrah inquired, placing one hand on her hip.

"Keigo Takami," he responded using the name positioning to which she was accustomed, surname last.

"Well, Takami, I suppose it's nice to meet you, but I'm not sure considering the circumstances," she rejoined without sarcasm, giving him a disarming smile. Little hollow areas showed up a few centimeters away from the corners of her mouth.

The proper use of his last name to refer to him and the dimples appearing from her genuine smile caught him off guard causing his aggravation to dissipate quite a bit. The woman could be quite charming if she tried. No wonder the men usually on high alert for people who wanted to kill them allowed her to deceive them so easily and lead them to their deaths.

"Would you like to continue our conversation somewhere else a little more private?" she asked, looking around them as people began to approach them from both directions on the street.

"Like where?" He immediately became suspicious of her intentions.

"Well, I was on my way to my hotel room, and there's a fully stocked bar, why not there?" she suggested.

Keigo's right eyebrow lifted toward his hairline.

"Don't allow your imagination to go too far. I have no intention of doing anything but talking. You have a lot of questions, don't you?" she reminded him.

"Yeah, I do. Many, many questions," he said.

"Let's go."

Keigo Takami walked beside but slightly behind her to give the impression of walking next her while following her. He could also keep an eye on her entire body and every movement should she decide to attack him for any reason. He had no reason to trust her and every reason not to trust her. So why the hell was he going to her hotel room?

Neither of the people behind the front desk looked their way as they entered the deserted lobby of the ritzy hotel. The splashing of the fountain did not cover the clicking of her heels on the marble floor as they walked past them to the elevators yet they still did not look up from their computers.

Farrah pressed the up arrow with a fingernail that barely extended past the end of her finger and was painted a deep and gleaming apple red. She hummed to fill the silence as they waited for the elevator. The ding to herald its arrival sounded extremely loud in the wordless void despite her attempt to fill it with sound. She entered the elevator, and he followed.

Keigo's eyes followed her hands as she reached into her purse for a key which she inserted inserted into the keyhole on the panel. He always wondered what those were for. He assumed they were for emergency purposes but they were actually to reach the upper floors for the really expensive and exclusive suites.

She turned the key a half turn to the left and pressed the button that lit up at the bottom right hand corner of the rows and columns of numbered buttons. There was no number on it.

He casually leaned against the back wall of the wood paneled elevator. Real wood. Swanky.

"You sure are quiet now. Too busy thinking?" she asked without turning to look at him.

"Yeah," he agreed. He was trying to figure her out. "Why would you ask a complete stranger to come to your hotel room? Aren't you afraid?"

"You're a hero aren't you?" She cast a backward glimpse at him over her shoulder. "Being a hero, a good guy, is important you. Why would you hurt me?"

"I wouldn't."

She smiled. Her dimples did not appear. "Exactly."

Keigo stared at her ebony hair that resembled ink poured over her head and trickling down her back in lustrous wavy lines that curled under her shoulder blades. The dress clung to her body, outlining her hourglass figure in a flattering way without being obscene.

Her thighs were thick and muscular. For some reason he pondered the possibility of her choking the life out of man with those shapely thighs. He gulped and quickly lowered his eyes to her shoes. The heels were silver and about as big around as a pencil. The rest a black patent leather. Surely she had stepped on men with those shoes; probably by their own request.

"Dammit," he whispered under his breath, raising his eyes to the mirror covered ceiling of the elevator. He could see down the front of her dress. "Fuck."

"What?" Farrah asked, turning to face him.

The elevator dinged to warn them of their arrival on her floor.

"Nothing." He shrugged, extending his arm toward the open door. "Shall we?"

Farrah removed her key from the panel and exited the elevator. Turning to the right, she went to a white door with a gold three on it. Hotels that used real keys instead of credit card like keys were rare. This place is old, austere, and extremely luxurious.

Keigo Takami marveled at the teardrop chandelier hanging in the entranceway of her room as she closed the door behind him. He tried not to be impressed by the ridiculously expensive sitting room at the end of the short hall with marble floors and Louis the fourteenth furniture.

Farrah casually tossed her purse onto the glass topped bar, the metal decoration on the front making a terrible clatter on the surface. She kicked off her shoes allowing them to the hit floor wherever they landed. He could not help but smile at her carefree and somewhat slobbish tendencies.

She proceeded to peruse the full sized, unopened liquor bottles lined neatly along the triple tier of glass shelves that virtually disappeared against the white wall behind them. At least he did not have to worry about her poisoning him since nothing appeared to be tampered with. As far as he knew, she had no reason to kill him.

"So what's your pleasure, angel?" she inquired, picking up a bottle of brown liquor with a black and gold label on the front.

"Hawks," he reminded her.

Pausing in mid reach, perched on her tiptoes, she glanced back over her shoulder at him. The cloud of black hair fell over her shoulder revealing the sideways smile on her face.

"Or Takami. Whichever you prefer."

"Takami," she repeated as she continued to gaze at him over her shoulder, her calf muscles frozen to keep her body in place.

He did not smile back but shoved his hands in pockets and leaned back against the wall at the edge of the entrance hall and sitting area. The woman looked positively carnivorous as her cat-like eyes, skirted over him from head to toe. She looked like a beautiful big cat to him. If kitty thinks she has a new toy, he had a differing opinion.

She lowered herself onto the soles of her feet, picking up a short, cut crystal rocks glass. Twisting off the cap, without adding ice, she filled the glass half full and took a big sip, then refilled it to its original level.

"I'll have what you're having," Keigo told her.

Without a word, she elegantly took another glass from the silver tray on the shelf and filled it. Turning toward him, she extended her arm to hand him the glass. Raising hers in the air, she smiled showing two rows of flawless, professionally whitened teeth. Her dimples flashed into view. He smiled back this time.

"Cheers," she said, taking a drink.

"Kanpai," he returned, lifting his own glass to his lips.

Farrah sat down on the couch, demurely curling her long tanned legs under her behind while sitting sideways with one arm laying across the back of the curved, intricately carved wood of otherwise white brocade covered couch.

Without being asked, Keigo took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. He took another swallow of the whiskey. It was smooth with no sting despite the high alcohol content. The warmth it imparted to his throat spread throughout his body after hitting his stomach. The sensation was quite pleasant actually. After another sip, he began to feel relaxed and leaned back into the corner of the couch. Hopefully he did not get too relaxed.

"Endeavor is your idol. The man you admire and most want to be like," she said, tracing the rim of her glass with her index finger.

"Yeah," he confirmed, indulging in another swallow of the whiskey. "Ever since I was kid. I want to be like him when I grow up," he chuckled since he was already a full grown adult at twenty three yet he felt like he was no closer to his goal when he saw Endeavor on the TV the first time as a small child.

"Hmph," she chortled with a hint of derision. "Are you sure he's really the person you want to be like?" she asked, growing dead serious, her eyes glittering like emeralds, hard and sharp.

The delightful drunken buzz muddled his mind and his blond eyebrows drew together in confusion at her sudden change of expression. She looked dark, menacing, looking even more like a slinky, predatory jungle cat.

He knew Enji Todoroki had made some questionable decisions followed by even more dubious actions in his personal life. He had told himself the way the man decided to run his personal life had nothing to do with him as the present number one hero, as Endeavor. Besides, the past is the past and nothing can be changed. Going forward, Enji swore to change and try to repair his family.

"How well did you know him...Endeavor?" Keigo inquired, his inquisitive nature pushing aside the voice of common sense warning him to leave.

The corners of her mouth turned upward in the semblance of a smile, but she looked sad, almost on the verge of tears. Keigo could not be sure if it was the alcohol or unshed tears that made her eyes so shiny. His eyes followed her as she stood up and walked to the glass sliding doors that opened onto a balcony.

"I knew him as Enji Todoroki. He had not chosen his hero name yet," she said, finishing off the alcohol in her glass. She sat it down on the bar to her left. "I knew him a long time ago when he was a different person. We both were different people back then," she said, pulling open the door that slid noiselessly along the embedded track in the floor.

She stepped outside without closing the door behind her, leaving it open as an unspoken invitation for him to follow her. Leaving his not quite empty glass behind on the table, he joined her. She stood with her arms propped on the thin black cast iron railing as she looked up into the moonless sky.

The city lights washed out the stars but illuminated her face with a jaundiced yellow glow. As he studied her lineless face, Keigo found it difficult to believe this woman was the same age as Endeavor. She barely looked older than himself. There was not a single laugh line around her mouth. No crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Not one gray hair in her dark hair.

"How long ago?" Keigo asked, resisting the urge to reach out and run his hand along her smooth ebony hair. Petting her would definitely be taken as an insult.

"High school. My father was a businessman from California who came here to speak with a colleague about an important business deal," she said, purposely keeping the details vague.

Her unclear terms only prompted more questions.

"Was he the kind of businessman you still deal with now? The same kind of men you work for, and kill, presently?"

Her head rotated toward him. The smirk on her face confirmed what he already assumed.

"It's not what you know, it's who you know that gets you somewhere in life. You of all people know that," she said, standing up straight and dropping her arms by her sides. "Networking is everything. My network was built among my father's colleagues and clients. Those men took care of me when I was young, now I take care of them...and their children."

"How sweet," he stated with blatant sarcasm. "Like one big happy family."

She shrugged. "Pretty much."

"So you two met while your father was here visiting a prospective business partner?"

"It was supposed to be a long term partnership. Like I said, we met at high school. My father enrolled me because he knew we would be here a while. I was so scared," she laughed lightly, suddenly looking even younger as she twiddled her fingers nervously. "I was alone, a foreigner, an outsider. A stupid American who didn't even know the language."

She turned away from him, moving to sit on the wicker chair made inviting by the thick red cushion covering the seat and back. Once again, she curled her legs under her in the wide seat of the chair. He wondered if she ever sat with her feet on the floor.

Keigo moved a little closer to her but chose to stand with a hand gripping the railing. If she tried something shady, he could simply hop over the balcony and fly away. Although she could make fire bombs to hurl at him, he had confidence in his speed and his ability to put enough distance between them to be out of range before she could throw the first one.

"Enji Todoroki was the first person to talk to me...to try to communicate. He scared the hell out of me," she said, shivering slightly.

Keigo could not be sure if it was from the excitement of remembering what it was like to see Enji Todoroki the first time or from the cold wind that whipped around her lifting her hair into the air. In that moment, she looked as if she could fly too. The locks of hair lowered back down to her shoulders as the wind died back down.

"He wasn't much different in looks then. Tall. Wide as a wall. That severe scowl on his face. His voice was always, deep...thunderous even," she said wistfully, a little smile on her face. Her eyes were unfocused and far away as if she concentrated more on recalling that day, recreating a picture of him in her mind. "He was my first love," she went on, her eyes raising to meet his. They had soft dreamy look of a woman in love. "I was his," she stated confidently.

Keigo believed her. He had an idea of what happened to end their relationship. This woman would have been a catalyst, fuel to the fire so to speak, possessing a fire quirk herself. They would have eventually burned each other out, not just physically but undoubtedly emotionally. Fire snuffs out fire - or makes an inferno destroying them and everyone around them.

Enji found the woman he was looking for in Rei, the ice to his fire. He needed a woman who would be a reaction inhibitor, whose abilities would keep the fire quirk he could barely control in himself in check. Her ability would prevent his children from burning up and burning out. That was the plan at least.

Unfortunately the experiment in genetic manipulation failed miserably in his first son Touya. His other two children inherited their mother's ice quirk. Shoto, however, became a stunning success, exhibiting both of his parents unique abilities. But the boy detested his father and had rejected his fire abilities. Slowly the kid was beginning to embrace the flames and make them his own. Although he never said it, Endeavor was incredibly proud of his youngest child.

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned," Hawks quoted from William Congreve's 'The Mourning Bride.' He squatted down in front of her, his eyes never wandering from hers.

"You like to read," she said, a gentle, sincere smile stretching her full bottom lip into a thin line.

"I love to read," he returned, his eyes meandering down to the thin gold chain around her neck.

He had not noticed the pendant earlier. A natural freshwater pearl, pink in color, held in a cage of thin golden wire. Tear shaped, a little twisted, perfect in its slightly misshapen imperfection.

"Did he give you this?" Keigo asked, seeing her eyes flutter and flit away when he tried to recapture them.

"He did," she answered without hesitation. "He gave it to me after my father was murdered...before I was sent back to the U.S. to be with my mother."

"I'm sorry," he said as an immediate reaction. Everyone said that in response to hearing someone's loved one had died.

Her eyes went straight to his. Her gaze was direct, unflinching. There were no tears in her eyes now. Her voice was smooth, unwavering when she spoke.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later right? Someone like you would believe he got what he deserved. Justice was finally served don't you think?" she questioned him.

"I never said that," he pitifully tried to defend himself as her eyes latched onto his face.

"I know he worked with some of the most detestable men on earth. I know he built homes and offices for these men, but despite what you might think, he was a good man."

Keigo did understand how she felt. He knew what it was like to believe in someone, to admire someone, even when you found out some unsavory secrets of the despicable things that person had done in their life.

When she stood up, Keigo stood too, stepping back to allow her to move past him to go to the railing once again. She placed her elbows on the the flat top bar and leaned forward to prop her chin on the sling created by her laced fingers. Her eyes avoided his by pretending to look out over the city as bright as the middle of the day with all of the electric illumination.

"Do you know what my father was doing here?" Without waiting for him to guess, she continued. "He brought money and blueprints and a crew to build free clinics in poor rural areas and safe parks for children to play in. He did the same thing in America. He did what he could to atone for enabling the elite criminals to live in luxury while profiting off of the death and misery of others. Despite what you think, he was a good man and didn't deserve to be murdered in the street by a so called hero."

Keigo did not ask for details. He did not want to know.

"So what are you here for now?" he inquired, taking a step back from her when she turned to face him.

"I'm not here for revenge if that's what you're thinking. The hero who killed my father is already dead and gone," she said, her voice remaining soft despite flash of anger in her eyes that was gone in an instant. "I'm only doing my job. I'm a contractor too. But I don't build anything. I tear down bad men, really bad men, and destroy them."

Quickly switching gears in his mind, Keigo retreated to the subject of her past and why her relationship with Enji Todoroki ended.

"Enji Todoroki could never be with you because it was too dangerous for the both of you. You knew that. Didn't you?" he asked as her eyes sparkled in the lights shining from the buildings around them and streetlamps below.

She bit her lower lip and nodded. "Although I already knew we could never work, he explained his reasoning when he told me he intended to marry Rei. But logic didn't make it hurt any less, angel."

"Takami," he corrected her.

"Sorry," she apologized, standing up straight and turning her whole body to stand face to face with him. She raised her hand as if to touch his face again then drew back her fingers to drop her hand by her side. Her eyes lowered from his to stare at her bare feet. "You're just so sweet. You really do look like an angel to me."

She had already called him an angel several times. Keigo actually found himself warming up to the nickname. Or perhaps it was just the alcohol speeding through his system even faster by his rapidly beating heart.

"I should leave," he announced but made no move to do so.

"I think you should," she agreed, going back to her place at the banister to stare out over the city. "Forgive me for my rudeness if I don't see you out."

Somehow he felt let down she did not ask him to stay. Typically women, no matter what their age, fawned over him and all but begged him to be with them. But this woman was not typical at all.

She had loved Enji Todoroki with all of her heart, and seemed to even now. She believed her father to be a good man despite the blood money he received from his criminal employers and cohorts. Obviously she had a different way of thinking about everything, a way he could almost understand and could not hate her for it.

"Good night, Farrah."

"Good night, Takami."