John's dark eyes took in every detail of the woods that surrounded Elisa's trees were tall with their canopies stretched out obscuring almost the entire night sky save for a few twinkling stars peeking down. Off in the distance he could hear the sound of a brook babbling along. The Pontiac was left parked in front of one of the garage doors and a Subaru Legacy parked in front of the other.

They walked to the front door as Elisa took the keys from her pocket. Knowing John did not need to be seen, she motioned for him to go around the house to the backside where another door was. This he did and was careful to stay among the trees where it was harder to be seen. Putting the key in the lock she opened the door and was immediately greeted by a dark statuesque woman with mahogany skin, and dark fiery eyes. One of the very few associates Elisa trusted, she was muscled and curvy in all the right places while also being deadly with any firearm imaginable or any object she could get her hands on. Initially she happily greeted Elisa, but after taking a good look at her she was aghast.

"Are you working again?" she asked, raising one well trimmed eyebrow in disapproval. Elisa Drake kicked off her shoes, still soaked from the storm, her hair wild and knotted from flying in the wind while John drove erratically and she shot at the would-be killers. There was still blood going down her arm from where she had been grazed as well as additional cuts and bruises from the chase. Even so she still somehow managed a smile and at least attempted to act like it was any other night of the week.

"Just visiting an old friend."

"Friend?" Simone wasn't buying the story for even a second. While there was a lot about her friend's past she didn't know, almost everything really, she was aware that Elisa had no friends. That in itself was enough to make her reach for her own gun. Immediately Elisa caught and stilled her friend's hand before giving her a sharp look.

"Harun?"

"Sleeping. Just your average boring night . . . for me anyway." Still not believing the story Elisa had told she pulled back the slide on her gun. "So who is this friend?"

"The kind you want to keep on the good side of."

"So I see." Looking past Elisa and out the front door, Simone suddenly caught sight of the Firebird in all its mangled glory. "Oh my God, the car."

"I understand it will buff out."

"What?"

"Go home, Simone."

"Right now, every fiber of my being is telling me I need to stay right here." The two women had been friends for the last four years and Simone was used to Elisa's unwillingness to open up, talk or even show much emotion. She had long ago decided those things were just part of her charm. What she had a hard time with was her friend's propensity for brushing off clear warnings of more than just a little danger as nothing. She had proven too many times just how lethal an assassin she was and Elisa obviously trusted her abilities enough to leave her son in her care. If only she would allow the two of them to join forces. Imagine the things they could do.

"And I'm telling you that everything is fine." Elisa looked at her friend with a pointed icy blue stare. It was deafening in its silence. Her word was final and she was not about to let anyone, not even a good friend, undermine or second guess her.

"Fine." Simone said, still not agreeing with her, but wise enough to back off. "Just promise me that if something happens you will call me."

"Sure. If something happens and if it requires your attention." It was hard to imagine anything arising that would require her assistance, especially when she had Baba Yaga waiting at her back door.

It was moments like this that made Simone wonder how they ever became friends. Of course, she knew the answer to that. Some debts run deeper than a blood oath and this was one of them. When you are outnumbered and outgunned and someone takes a stand and gets you out of danger, you make that person your ally. Simone was a tracker in the underworld, but the wrong person discovered her and wanted to keep her from snooping around their mansion. With Elisa's help Simone managed to be the only person to walk out of that place. After that she was as loyal a friend as anyone could ask for. So much so, that she wanted to help Elisa protect Harun at any cost.

"Are you sure . . ." She never finished the sentence as Elisa turned and stared into her with icy blue daggers for eyes."

"Go." she hissed in a low voice. This time Simone listened. She knew that tone far too well to even consider going against it, but that didn't stop her from grumbling as slipped her gun back into its holster and gathered her things. She was still muttering to herself about what she believed was Elisa taking too many risks, being foolhardy and not trusting as she left the house and went out to her Subaru. The shrewd eyes of Azhdaya watched until the vehicle was completely gone then went sound to the back door to let John in. Part of her would have liked to have confided in Simone, but the world needed to think John Wick was dead and she was not about to break that trust.

Stopping by one of her linen closets, she grabbed two towels then went to the back door. She opened it to find John waiting patiently just as expected. Ushering him in, she handed him a towel so he could dry off from the storms. He hung his brown leather jacket on a hook then began to use the towel, his eyes looking about his surroundings so he could pinpoint every possible exit should the need arise. Elisa was the same way. He noted the large windows that looked out over the woods as well as the wide open floor plan when it came to the kitchen, dining and living rooms. There was a staircase to the upper floor just before a dark hallway that led to the other end of the house. The modern style reminded him of the home he had shared with Helen, although the rustic cabin aesthetic was not really him.

Elisa dried herself off then took both towels and sent them down a laundry shoot to the basement. She turned back and looked at her old friend. His long dark hair slicked back from the rain, his gray t-shirt soaked and stuck to his sculpted body. What truly drew her in was his face. Traces of age were beginning to show. Neither of them were not young anymore, yet somehow when she pictured John Wick she saw him as ageless, stuck somewhere between thirty and forty. For the first time she was seeing small tell-tale lines about his face and tiny almost invisible gray hairs in his hair and beard. No one else would probably have ever noticed, but she did and she found that it only made him more attractive. Even so, she knew better than to show what she was feeling or act on such thoughts. Not wanting to think about it, she immediately turned away and walked towards the stairs.

"I think The Elder, Harun's father, knew he was being targeted because shortly after you visited my vets office I started getting packages. Mostly documents and information for Harun, but there was something else as well." She went over to her staircase and removed a wooden tread revealing a safe. Carefully she turned the dial initiating a series of clicks before a louder click announced that it was open. She opened the heavy metal door then reached inside and took out a small white envelope. On the outside in precise and beautiful penmanship were the words 'you'll know what to do with this'. She didn't need to feel the sealed envelope to know what was inside and of course she knew exactly what to do with it. Watching his face she held it out to John. His dark eyes were suspicious as he took it then instantly they widened and a look of hope and relief filled them and he felt the contents through the paper.

Eagerly he ripped the envelope open then tipped its contents into his hand. A man's gold band rolled out into his palm, his hands shaking as he wrapped his fingers around it. It was his wedding band, the one Helen had bought for him. Tears sprang into his eyes as he held it. It was plain gold, but oh so precious to him. It was a link to her, Helen, the love of his life. Looking at it, he could instantly recall his bride with daisies in her hair and in her bouquet, dressed all in white lace. Her smile, her voice and the feel of her slipping that ring on his finger . . .the finger that was gone. Elisa had been right when she said he should never have given it to The Elder, but it was too late now.

Elisa had expected an emotional reaction from him when she gave it to him and yet, seeing the depths of love and loss in his deep dark eyes crushed her. Slipping her own hand into her pocket she squeezed a marble as tightly as she could. Without taking it out she could picture every detail of it. It was a shooter marble that was clear with swirls of colors all through it. It had been the only thing John had brought with him as a boy from Belarus when the Ruska Roma had taken him in. A few years later when Elisa had entered their dormitory and they met for the first time on the rooftop she had admired it. That night he gave it to her and she had never let it go. Pressing that object into her palm she remembered all those years when they had been close . . . lovers. That was a long time ago, eleven years now, and it seemed like an eternity since she had allowed herself to feel anything or touch someone.

"Thank you." John managed to say, composing himself.

"It's yours and that's where it should be." Elisa closed her eyes a moment thinking about the radiant devotion that she had just seen in her old friend's eyes when he saw that ring. Perhaps it was a slight twinge of jealousy, her loneliness or just curiosity that made her choose to open up, but whatever it was, the normally guarded assassin began to talk. "Tell me John, do you ever lie awake at night, not because you're afraid of the assassin's bullet, but because you're lonely and the bed is cold and empty?"

"Yes."

"Me too." she sighed.