Elena met them at the door.

"Gleb, what on earth do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"I'm taking her through and out the back," he replied impatiently. "We can't just saunter out the door when those two are having a smoke out there.

Elena shook her head.

"How on earth are you supposed to get through the kitchen without causing a ruckus? Customers aren't allowed in there!"

Gleb groaned and rubbed his forehead distractedly.

"I don't know! I hadn't gotten that far yet! We both just need to get out of sight right now!"

"What about hiding upstairs for a while?" Elena suggested. "Depending on where those men are standing, there is a good chance that they would be able to see you from the kitchen side door.

Gleb cursed audibly and was rewarded by a sharp smack on the arm by Elena.

"Watch your tongue," she said sharply.

Gleb sucked in a vastly irritated breath.

"What is it that you suggest we do, Elena?" he asked heatedly.

She frowned in thought.

"Go up to your room via main staircase! No one would go there so it'll be safe and you can hide for a while. We can reconnoiter later depending on whether or not the men stay."

"What about Dmitry?" Anya broke in.

"Who's he?"

"Her boyfriend." Gleb said shortly.

"Fiancé actually," Anya replied.

Blushing a little, she lifted her hand, displaying the circle of gold set with a small diamond which she was wearing on her fourth finger.

Elena glanced quickly at Gleb's face, noting how tense and well…sad he looked. Her heart twisted with sympathy. She knew all too well how it felt to care for a person who didn't return the feeling and how hard it was to see them in love with someone else.

"Is he in danger too then?" she asked.

"I would think so," Gleb replied, a note of contempt creeping into his voice. "Considering how many times he was brought in."

Anya frowned, but made no comment.

"So where is he?" Elena turned and scanned the dining room.

"I don't know." Anya bit her lip, following Elena's gaze. "He went to find the bathroom several minutes ago, but he should probably be back by now."

"I'll keep an eye out for him. In the meantime, you two get upstairs. When I see Dmitry, I'll bring him up."

"Elena!" Henri's impatient voice floated through the doorway.

"Go!" she turned back to the kitchen door.

"Elena, wait!" Gleb caught her arm. "How do I get to my room from the main stairs?"

Elena sighed in impatience and rapidly gave a long series of directions that left both Gleb and Anya feeling vaguely confused.

"Now go!" she hissed and ducked through the doorway, crashing into Henri who had come to see what was taking so long. She hastily dragged her brother back into the kitchen before he could see Anya, ignoring his irate inquiries and protestations.

Gleb and Anya headed for the staircase. They had just reached the bottom when the door opened. Anya glanced back and gave a gasp of fear.

"They're coming back inside!" she cried quietly.

"Go! Go!" Gleb gestured frantically up the stairs.

Anya needed no further encouragement. She slipped by him and ran up the steps. Praying that he wouldn't be noticed, Gleb followed as fast as he could. Suddenly a loud voice that definitely didn't belong to either Borislave Gorlinsky or Konstantin Aleksandrov boomed over the chatter of the diners.

" Bonsoir, Monsieur Dassin! Aujourd'hui était une belle jour, n'était pas?"

Gleb glanced over his shoulder and gave vent to a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh, that was just another of the local men coming in. Our…friends are still outside. Thank heaven above!"

Anya looked as relieved as he felt. When Gleb reached the top of the stairs, they stood silent for a moment, each letting their racing pulse calm a little.

"Now, what was Elena's first direction? A right then two lefts?"

xxxx

It took them several minutes to find the right hallway. Only when he had closed the door of his room behind them did Gleb realize how awkward this situation really was. Glancing over, he saw that she was eyeing him somewhat warily and he flushed scarlet. Looking for an escape and following the force of an old habit, he made his way to the window and stood leaning on his crutches and looking out. Anya remained standing uncomfortably in the middle of the room for a moment before sitting down in the extra chair that Elena had brought up for when she and Gleb talked or played games.

The silence dragged on and on, becoming more uncomfortable and awkward with each passing second. At last, Gleb couldn't bear it any longer.

"France is really quite beautiful in the summer." He winced both at the words and the forced tone they were delivered in and wished fervently that they had never left his mouth. Anya glanced at him and shrugged.

"Indeed," she replied with guarded casualness.

"Do you like it?" Gleb could have knocked himself on the head.

"Yes, I think it is quite lovely," she said.

Silence descended upon them again. Gleb gnawed on his lip. Suddenly he spun around and faced Anya directly, causing her to start up in alarm.

"Anya, I am deeply, deeply sorry," he said.

She stared, her eyes looking suddenly wide and suspicious.

"For what?" she asked warily.

Gleb ran his hands though his hair, trying to force his jumbled thoughts into something resembling intelligible speech.

"For frightening you, for tracking you, for threatening you, for holding you at gunpoint, for denying who you were, for separating you from your family, for-for this!" he gestured helplessly around the room, indicating the awkwardness and tension between them with a sweep of his hands. "It seems everything I've ever done to you is terrible and threatening. That's not how it should be, not how I wanted it to be and…and I want to apologize."

The suspicion faded a little from her face.

"Why are you sorry? You were doing your job," she said.

Gleb shook his head.

"I'm sorry because by doing what I did, I frightened and hurt you. You who deserve so much more than your cruel life has given you. I never want to see you hurt or frightened, Anya. I never have."

"Why are you saying this?"

"Because I feel like a monster." The words were spoken quietly, but they were no less sincere for the fact.

"You are not a monster, com…Gleb. They tried to make you one, but they failed."

Gleb felt a little shiver run up his back and tingle in his fingers when he heard his name on her lips, just as it had in his office in Leningrad so long ago. He shook it aside.

"What do you mean they failed? I threatened you and then tracked you down and tried to kill you. I followed they're orders."

"You did not follow they're orders," Anya replied sharply, "or else you would have killed me on sight. You did not. You let me go free even though you knew you would be killed yourself for such an act. I will admit that you frightened me; maybe even hurt me, but on the inside, Gleb, you were – and are still the man who had the decency and kindness to help up a filthy street-sweeper and offer her tea. I have forgiven you for what you've done or at least I want to. Some things take time to heal, but at the very least, I hold no grudge against you for what you did."

Gleb stood struck completely speechless.

"I-I don't' know how to thank you. You are far kinder to me than I deserve," he said a last with a shake of his head.

Anya walked over and stood beside him, looking out the window and he stepped back to allow her a clearer view. There was silence between them for several minutes. The sun had sunk beneath the hills and a dusky twilight was settling over the inn. The dim light from the window illuminated Anya's face and Gleb caught himself staring at her, mesmerized by the soft curve of her jaw and the delicate yet impudent tilt of her nose. Her stunning blue eyes looked soft and thoughtful.

"How did you end up here?" Anya asked suddenly.

Briefly, Gleb recounted how he had hurt his ankle shortly after fleeing Paris, how Elena had found him and brought him to the inn where he had stayed ever since, and how he had recently taken up the task of barman.

"I do enjoy it here," he added. "The people are kind and Elena had become a good friend. She is the only one who knows who I really am."

Anya looked up at him quickly.

"Does she know…?" the question hung unfinished, but he understood nonetheless.

"She does know of you," Gleb said slowly, "but you have nothing to fear. She is a trustworthy girl. Elena has had reason enough to betray me, her family has had something of a history with Bolsheviks in the past, but she never once has even hinted at my identity to her family or anyone else."

Anya searched his face for a moment and then turned back to the window, seemingly satisfied that if Gleb trusted someone to keep his secrets, her's were safe with them as well.

"What about you?" Gleb asked after a moment. "What are you doing in this part of France?"

"Dmitry and I are actually just passing thought. We're traveling to Valencia where we plan to be married by an old priest friend of Nana's. She insisted on paying the fare although she was rather doubtful about us traveling without a chaperone." Anya rolled her eyes, blushing. "As if we didn't travel all the way to Paris with no one but Vlad who probably wouldn't qualify as a chaperone for a children's picnic! We both promised faithfully to be very proper, but she didn't seem convinced. I guess she just doesn't trust Dmitry. He would never do anything improper of course. If he even suggested it I'd kill him and he knows it, but that doesn't matter. He cares about me too much for that."

Gleb glanced down at Anya's flushed face, her arms crossed across her chest and felt a cold hand clench around his heart.

"I'm glad you've been able to start a new life," he said quietly.

Anya's faced softened and she started to reply, but at that moment the door burst open. Both of them spun around and saw Elena panting in the doorway.

"The Russian men are back inside!" she said.

"Did you find Dmitry?" Anya gasped, looking suddenly pale.

Elena nodded and Anya gave a heavy sigh of relief.

"He's currently hiding in a very uncomfortable position behind the kitchen door."

Gleb frowned.

"Do you think that you can get him out back without anyone noticing?" he asked.

Elena considered for a few seconds and then nodded.

"I probably could, but like I said earlier, there is no way that you two will be able to come down without raising the roof."

Gleb rubbed his temples. Suddenly he straightened, his face lighting with a sudden idea.

"Can you climb?" he asked turning to Anya.

"Like a cat, though these stupid heeled shoes might make it more difficult."

"You can always take them off. Elena, get Dmitry out back as soon as you can. Come with me, Anya. I think I've found a solution to our problem."

xxxx

"Can you climb down that?" Gleb asked, gesturing to the vines that covered the wall. "They are plenty strong. I've climbed down here before and they held me alright."

Anya peered over the railing of the balcony and studied the vines.

"Oh yes, that should be easy enough," she said.

Bending down, she pulled off her heeled slippers and tossed them down into the garden, then seated herself astride the railing and prepared to follow. Gleb caught her arm before she could climb off the railing.

"No, Anya! Wait until Dmitry comes out! There's too great a chance of you being seen if you wait down there."

Anya frowned, but nodded and slid her leg back onto the balcony. They stood for a moment in silence

"I guess this is goodbye then," Anya said softly.

Gleb swallowed.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, his voice not as steady as he would have liked. "It's-it's been nice seeing you again, Anya."

She smiled and the sight took his breath away, just like it always had.

"Yes, it has," she agreed. "I'm glad that that part of the past is settled. For both of us."

Gleb nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Thank you for…forgiving and moving on," he said at last.

She dipped her head in acknowledgment and looked out over the darkening grounds of the inn.

"Thank you for being the man you are," she said. "You were willing to help me when I was just an ordinary street sweeper and you still are helping me now, after everything that's happened."

"Anya, I…I've always wanted to help you," he choked out.

She hugged him. He gasped, taking in the closeness and the sweet scent of orange blossoms that hung about her. The scent that he still remembered so well from that night in Paris. Many times he had thought about holding her, many times he had dreamed about it, but actually feeling her in his arms quite literally took his breath away. He concentrated on every detail, imprinting it into his memory.

Gleb felt her pulling back after a moment and he reluctantly let her go. She moved a half step back, her hands coming to rest on his arms.

"I'm so happy, Gleb," she whispered. "I'm so glad that you have managed to move past who you were; to break out of the cage you were trapped in. You have a new life now. You found a home and a family here, just as I did. Neither of us is alone anymore, though I know we've both paid a heavy price for our freedom. I'm proud to have you for a friend and a countryman, Gleb Vaganov."

Her words tore his heart with both happiness and sorrow. Happiness that she cared about him; that she was proud of him and considered him a friend despite everything he'd done. Sorrow that she didn't care enough; that he had found her to lose her once more and that they would probably never meet again.

As they stood there on the balcony, neither sure what to do, Gleb suddenly realized how close she still was. His heart gave a sudden lurch and he glanced down involuntarily to her rosy lips, parted slightly as she gazed up into his face. There was a pause, every moment seeming a lifetime to him.

He wanted so desperately to kiss her, knowing that he would never have another chance. For months now, he had been dreaming of the soft touch of her lips and he longed to make it a memory and not just a dream. It would be something that no goodbye, no separation could every take away from him. But it would be wrong. Her heart did not belong to him. He knew that now and it was not for him to take what someone else had earned.

There was a sudden rustle from below as the kitchen side door was opened. Anya reached down and caught his hands, squeezing them gently.

"Goodbye, Gleb," she whispered and turning, she climbed quickly over the balcony railing and clamored down the vines, Gleb drew back a towards the wall of the house feeling cold and alone, the remnants of the adrenaline rush still running through his limbs.

As Anya's feet hit the ground, a figure burst from around the wall.

"Anya!" he cried softly, relief flooding his voice.

"Oh, Dmitry!"

He caught her in his arms and she melted into his embrace.

"I was so worried!" he murmured into her hair. "Those men…"

She gripped him tighter.

"They didn't catch us, thank goodness," she sighed. "we're safe and we have each other."

Dmitry reached up and cradled her chin softly in his hands.

"My darling," he murmured and kissed her. Anya wrapped her arms lovingly around his waist

"I love you, kotonok," she said softly when they had pulled apart. "Now let's get out of here before we are caught."

Dmitry hugged her tightly once more and then let her go. Anya searched quickly for her shoes and taking them in one hand, she grabbed his with the other and they hurried off, heading for the woodshed. From there they would be able to strike out across the nearby field and get back to the road without coming in view of the inn.

xxxx

Long after they'd disappeared from view, Gleb stood on the balcony. He had moved forward to the railing again and was grasping it in white knuckled hands, struggling to control himself. The pain he felt was too deep for words. To have found her, his Anya, only to lose her again…

But she wasn't his Anya. She never had been and she never would be. She loved Dmitry and nothing would ever change the fact. She had never loved him, he realized that now and the understanding brought a sharp ache to his chest that was bitter to bear. It was even worse than when they had parted in Paris. Then, he could at least fantasize about her when he was alone at night, thinking that just maybe she cared, that she might love him. Now even that small comfort was gone, leaving only emptiness and sorrow. Anya had said that he had found a home and a family, but he had never felt so alone in his life.

xxxx

Elena found him there hours later, sitting with his back to the wall and staring off into the distance with bitter, tearless eyes. She saw the ridged set of his shoulders and suddenly, she was reminded sharply of how Gleb had been when he had first arrived the inn; before he had opened up and shown the person he really was behind the masks and walls he had created for himself. She paused, debating on whether she should approach him.

"Gleb?" she asked hesitantly.

She saw him shift a little and knew that he had heard her. Softly, she walked over and sat down beside him, resisting the temptation to glance up at his face.

"It's late. You should come in and rest."

"I don't need rest."

Elena winced. His voice was taught a bowstring with the grief and emotion that he was obviously struggling to control.

"You did the right thing, Gleb."

He gave a humorless huffing laugh.

"Oh, sure I did," he said bitterly.

Elena sat still for a moment then reached over and laid her hand on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked softly.

"No," he drew a trembling breath. "She has never loved me, Elena. Never."

He dropped his eyes to the ground. Elena felt her heart constrict with pity. Hoping that she wasn't overstepping, she shifted closer and wrapped her arm around his back, hugging him from the side. He stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, leaning against her with a sob that he tried unsuccessfully to choke back. She held him tighter.

"You can cry you know," she whispered. "I don't care."

They sat there long into the night, until he had cried himself dry and empty.

French translation:

Bonsoir, Monsieur Dassin! Aujourd'hui était une belle jour, n'était pas? – Good evening, Monsieur Dassin! Today was a beautiful day, wasn't it?

A/N – Sorry for the long wait, you guys. This chapter took some work. It's also my longest chapter to date, coming in at 3,332 words. Kotonok is a phonetic spelling of a Russian endearment meaning "kitty" or "kitten" which I found online and thought was adorable. While on the topic of languages, if any of you guys speak French and notice errors in the French dialogue or translations, do let me know. I've been studying French for two years and can do a bit, but I am still far from fluent. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Cheers!