"It was…" Aurora braced her elbows against the table, jamming her fingers into her disheveled banks of hair before tilting back and gazing at the ceiling, her fingers pressed almost ruthlessly to the back of her neck.

"I guess if I don't want to sound like an idiot I need to give you a little history. Maybe going through it all will help me figure out what the heck it meant. I told you George died when I was thirteen. I also told you that my last job blew up in my face hot enough to have me run out of Britannia on a rail. The dream was like some weird melding of those two events." She puzzled about it in silence for a few moments, but couldn't seem to reach a conclusion.

"I, uh, didn't take George's death well. He knew better than anyone how risky the game was, so he established an inheritance for me that was as much security as it was money. I took it and struck out on my own. George had been working on something big, and it took me three weeks to figure out what. There was something going on with the influx of people into the homeland. He got killed trying to figure out where it was all stemming from. Turned out it was coming from the very top."

At Suzaku's questioning tilt of his head, Aurora passed her hand over her face, smiling very bitterly.

"The Emperor was importing cheap labor from around the world to grease the wheels of his war machine, and he was using the bratva as mules."

"You mean the-"

"Russian mafia, yeah. They would ship in desperate people from around the world, baiting them with the promise of a better life. Most of them would die from inhuman conditions within ten years. George had gotten wind of it, and he was working to ferret out the source when he took a .22 LR slug to the liver. I found his notes, and swore that I'd take down the man responsible for his death. Charles had stolen my family from me time and time again – this time, I was biting back, and would attack him where it hurt. Every job I took in those three years got me one step closer to the core, closer to the proof I needed to destroy Charles zi Britannia. Even when I worked for Kendra and Lloyd."

"How were they involved?" Suzaku quietly wondered.

"Personally, they weren't. They had their own issues. But Charles got wind of Kendra's return to Britannia through the vory v zakone. She didn't know that they'd come across the Pacific in one of their ships. Charles recognized her name from the manifest, and sent out his hounds. As for Lloyd, the people I had to work with to salvage his career would later help me establish my cover."

"By the time I was sixteen, I was ready. So I went undercover with the bratva."

"You joined the Russian mob?" Suzaku murmured in shock.

"I did," Aurora confirmed with a weary smirk. "Kind of. I wasn't a true member, more of a consultant. Initiation wasn't that bad – came out of it with a broken rib, three cracked ones, two broken fingers, and a magnificent black eye. Got off easy," she said with zero sarcasm, wiggling the fingers of her left hand. "Built one of my best cover ID's to get in, used shadows of actual work to support my rep as a thief. I was old blood, young, pretty, and mean as an alley cat, so they overlooked my unfortunate gender in favor of my sticky fingers. I had been with them two weeks when I met Nikolai." She pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, working on keeping her voice smooth, even as it hushed with reverence when she said Nik's name.

"Everyone thought I was nineteen, a decent cover age. He was twenty-two at the time, the son of a vor captain. He'd been raised in the life, so he was like their prince." Aurora sighed heavily, her voice taking on a wistful, sorrowful tone. "Nikolai was beautiful. Handsome, lethal, weirdly honorable, and an incredible shot. Gang code is pretty warped, but his father was old school, and was ridiculously proud that his son was earning his vor status the traditional way. He'd done three stints in prison by the time I met him; one for grand theft auto, one for possession with intent to distribute, and one for assault and battery. His father fully expected his son to follow in his footsteps, and he'd been game practically since he was born. He'd been a shestyorka since he was thirteen. A vor in training, if you will, waiting for his stars."

At Suzaku's confused look, she elaborated.

"When a man becomes a true member of the vory v zakone, he is tattooed with stars on his chest and knees. So that he must kneel to no one," she said distantly, like she was echoing it by rote. "Nikolai was young, but a remarkable street soldier. Liked by many, almost everyone I talked to said that Nikolai would be an ideal successor. And, for some reason, he took a shine to me." She pressed her palm to her mouth, like she had to physically work to hold back from saying something.

"I tried to discourage him – God, did I try. Nearly bit his nose off when he got in close to try for a kiss. But he was charmingly impervious and insanely persistent. I was busy trying to establish contacts, build the trust I needed to get to the levels of information that I hadn't yet been able to access. I didn't have time for the attentions of some hopped-up thug who thought I was an easy lay."

Ban had finally decided that she wasn't inches from flat-lining, so he crept close enough to rest his chin on Aurora's thigh. She stroked his ears as a comfort to them both as she continued.

"I supposed I could have used a honey pot gambit – he was so highly ranked, it would have made information mining a freaking field trip. But, the vory have very strict rules about that kind of thing, and not to mention, it's morally repugnant. I was pretty far gone, but not that far gone. Besides, George always had two hard and fast rules when it came to undercover work." Aurora held up one finger.

"No tattoos, which blew any chance I had at actually joining the bratva right out of the water. You barely exist without tattoos in their eyes. And two," she continued, holding up her paired fingers, "no sex. Not with someone involved. Ever." Aurora tilted her head back, massaging her pounding temples as Bannock hummed in her lap.

"Well, at least I got one right." She looked at Suzaku, waiting for the reproach to bloom in his eyes. God knew she'd done it enough to herself over the years. But he still looked at her uncomprehendingly. It took her a second. Right, virgin.

"Turned out Nikolai wasn't quite the dickhead I thought he was, and I was way lonelier than I had ever banked on. It's what happens when you starve yourself of basic human connection long enough – you do crazy, stupid shit. Like sleeping with a guy up to his eyeballs in the organization you're working to infiltrate and topple because it's fun and it makes you feel good. Nothing wrong with that last bit – it's the first part that was the problem."

Comprehension emerged. The condemnation flickered, and Aurora was surprised by how badly it hurt. Then he wrestled it into submission, and looked at her with eyes that were expressionless and fairly civil

"Did you sleep with him because of who, or what, he was?"

Aurora thought the question over. She knew the answer – she'd grappled with it years ago, but she appreciated that Suzaku had found it in himself to ask.

"Who. He was clever and cunning and, against his code, surprisingly kind. He was my first," she said, very quietly. "And he was wonderful." She didn't mention how they may have had sex, but Nikolai always left once she fell asleep – the way of the vory v zakone was harsh, and allowed for little attachment. He had already tread a thin line in the way he'd pursued her, but allowing himself in any deeper with Aurora would have been a death sentence for the future Nikolai had been building since infancy, if not his life. A faint tinge stained Suzaku's cheekbones, and Aurora took pity on him and continued.

"I cared for him, more deeply than I would have imagined and certainly much more than I was bargaining on. We… became something of a fixture amongst the bratva. Our names became a single word – Nikolai and Arina, Arina and Nikolai. He taught me fenya, which is basically the vory language. I actually speak it better than true Russian. Months passed, until it seemed that Arina Strelkinov was more real than Rory Seven. Maybe she was."

Into the silence, Suzaku's words were soft.

"Did you love him?"

Aurora raised her eyes from where she pressed her palms to her forehead to meet his, the breath whistling out of her lungs as she exhaled like there was a concrete block on her chest.

"No. Not the way you mean. I cared for him, I was attracted to him, I liked him, and I trusted him, as much I could, which wasn't much then. But I didn't love him like that. George would say I didn't love him enough." She still felt guilty about it – the part of her that had refused to engage when it seemed like she had every reason to.

"It lasted for about six months. It was almost like I'd been born for it. I'd even designed my cover name to run close to my real name, which I'd almost forgotten over the years. It's easier to respond to a cover that's close to what you habitually hear. Slipping into Arina Elena Strelkinov's skin was almost like coming home."

"But it couldn't last," Suzaku said quietly. She looked at him, and a part of her eased as she realized he knew. Knew what it was like to allow yourself to believe a lie is real, even as you function within your original purpose. To compartmentalize parts of yourself, and somehow manage to feel with an honest depth despite the fallacy of the very world around you.

"No," she breathed. "It couldn't. It all ended with an email." Aurora took a sip of her cool tea, not even wrinkling her nose at the taste, since the bitterness of failure already coated her tongue.

"It was from an obshchak. A bookkeeper. Just some low-level number cruncher who kept the bratva in the black. With a little help from an old friend, I'd tapped into almost all of the bratva's communications. I almost didn't open it – thought maybe it was spam. It was blank, and the subject line just read 'Insurance.' Attached was a .jpeg, a picture taken of a document. It was poorly focused, but you could read it well enough. It was signed and stamped correspondence on royal stationary between the Emperor and his closest aid. It referenced a ship number, and asked to verify if all cargo had been lost, or if some could be salvaged for a rubber factory in Accolon. It was also a reminder to speak with their representative about rates and security – if they couldn't be trusted not to lose cargo, then maybe he would look elsewhere. The very last line read 'If Ivan thinks I'll tolerate this again, he should never have left the cold ruts.'"

"The Northern Barrage," Suzaku quickly guessed, furrowing his brow as he tried to piece together the information. It didn't surprise her in the least, and frankly impressed her, that Suzaku knew of the derogatory nickname of the prolonged rebellion waged by the Russian people during their resistance against Britannia. It hadn't lasted, but the winters had ground Charles' armies nearly to a halt, as they had to so many invaders before. Too bad Britannian stubbornness was a bitch to break.

"Yep. I took the info and ran with it. A little digging revealed that the ship number referred to a freighter that had been stopped in Australia. The cargo manifest listed raw rubber from India. In reality, it was stuffed to the brim with desperate Indonesians who had been promised safe, if illicit, passage. It was a vor ship, but with that kind of flack, they burned their bridges. So when the Australian officials went looking for whoever the hell was responsible, they came up empty. Just some smoking dead ends." Aurora reluctantly remembered the fevered excitement that had gripped her when she had initially dredged all this up. Shame it came to nothing.

"With no one to hang it on, the Australians had deported the Indonesians and left the ship to rot in a sort of boat impound, never to be claimed. I had good evidence that Charles had been implicit, if not the cause, of trying to get those people into Britannia illegally. But that wasn't the best part." Or maybe the worst. Even with the distance of time, it was hard to say.

"It took a while to click, but I knew it all along. Nikolai's father's name was Ivan Dragunov, and he'd cut his teeth on the bitterly cold front lines of the Northern Barrage." Even now, sorrow laced her voice. It had broken her heart, idiot that she was, to hold the catalyst of her fake world cracking apart at the seams.

"It took me fifteen minutes to figure all this out. It took the vory ten to realize they had a leak. I was about to shoot off my bundle of goodies to a contact with very high connections when a squad of Britannian soldiers kicked down my door. They shot out my computer before training their sights on me. I have George to thank for days and days of knocking me on my ass repeatedly until I learned how to stay on my feet in a fight and get out alive. It was as I clapped two thick Britannian skulls together that I got it." Her voice had been weary all night, but now it dropped into a bone-deep timbre of exhaustion and failure.

"It didn't matter how thorough my cover was or how reliable my contacts – no loner could ever take on Charles. My ridiculously brilliant older brother knew that from the start. To destroy an Emperor, you needed an army to hack a clear path. No one standing alone could take down a monarch. At least, I couldn't. So I ran."

Suzaku knew that shame, that gutting realization that your ideals and drive had crumbled beneath the animal need to survive.

"It wasn't that surprising that they'd figured out it was me. I was new, an outsider, and I was sleeping with their prince. About the time I was pulling up outside one of my safe houses, Nikolai had been called into a meeting with the vor. I was his responsibility, since it was on his recommendation that I was brought deeper into the fold, and they didn't take kindly to this breach of trust. In order to rectify the problem and regain his standing, Nikolai would have to solve the problem personally. So he headed out with his 9mm Viking in order to hunt me down and execute me for betraying the vory's faith and contract. It just goes to show how badly I bungled this in that I'd mentioned the street name of my safe house to Nikolai once in passing. Not to mention Natasha's pretty recognizable."

"She is a beautiful car," Suzaku conceded. For the first time that night, Aurora smiled. It was faint, but nonetheless genuine.

"That she is. Anyway, I'd just started the burner program to wipe my ID's from the system when Nikolai knocked on the door."

"What did you do?"

Aurora's smile was heavy with sorrow and hindsight.

"I let him in."

"What did he do?"

"He kissed me." Aurora answered almost too quietly to be heard. Suzaku blinked a few times, obviously surprised by what she'd said.

"He told me he loved me, and that he deserved the truth. I confirmed his suspicions – I wasn't a career thief, not of goods, anyway. I wasn't even Russian. I was a liar and a traitor. My only excuse was my hunt for a liar and a traitor. I was guilty of everything he accused me of, and it was all done in the service of a vendetta that was being dismantled as we spoke. But he said it didn't matter." Aurora spoke quietly into her knuckles. By now, the candles had burned low, flickering flames constantly in danger of guttering out.

"Nikolai wanted run with me. He told me that together, we could hide forever. They'd never find us, and we could be happy. It sounded perfect – I told him no. I didn't love him, not the way he needed to support that kind of decision. It's hard to understand, but they have their own kind of code, own kind of honor. And Nikolai was ready to throw everything away for a woman that didn't even really exist. And he would come to hate what stood in her place, the me that would be left behind. I couldn't let that happen."

"But you couldn't stay," Suzaku quietly offered.

"No. And he couldn't go back empty handed. In the eyes of the vory, it was his life or mine. Nikolai could be very persuasive, but so can I. We wasted precious minutes arguing. It got worse when I told him my plan. For us to get out clean, he'd have to shoot me." Aurora started her faint, habitual tapping on the table, the easiest indication that her story was reaching its climax.

"Oh, did that make him mad. I may not have loved him, but I trusted him. I'd never met a better shot. It could be done. But he demanded there had to be another way. So I begged him. Begged for him to set me free the only way he could. That if he truly loved me, he'd believe me, and he'd do what was best for both of us." It was a manipulation worthy of Lelouch – she still thought so to this day, even as it brought a sour taste to her tongue.

"So he did. We put on a show. Burst out of the place like a couple of wolves, snapping and snarling. The fight spilled out onto the streets, where there were plenty of witnesses. Nikolai was really good at gauging the exact moment when the pressure would break and someone would call the cops. At the last second, I turned and ran. Felt like I got punched in the back. In-and-out hit, just above the left pelvis wing. I scrambled into Natasha and drove for my life. It took me weeks to get the blood out of the seats."

"About the time Nikolai was reporting to the vory his unsuccessful mission, I was being flown out of Britannia on a black-out flight with an elderly veteran medic patching me up. I never saw him again."

"What happened to him?" Suzaku asked quietly, no doubt sensing the finality in her voice.

"Well, with all the witnesses to his attempt on my life, the vory couldn't doubt his resolve. They gave him his stars two weeks later. Less than a year after, he died. Drive-by shooting. The way of a street soldier." Her voice had become a little clipped in defense against the way her throat thickened – it had been a very long time since she'd cried for Nikolai.

"So Nikolai was in your dream?" Suzaku managed to steer her away from the old, pointless grief.

"Yeah. Shooting my mentor and executing everyone I've ever cared about not related by blood because he loved me. And I asked him to set me free."

Suzaku realized what Aurora could not – she was so afraid of again losing her family. Not the one she'd born to, but the family she'd made. The family she'd earned.

"You know you only did what you had to."

"I know. Doesn't really make you feel any better, though, does it?"

They both knew that bitterness all too well.

"But it was the last part that was the worst."

Suzaku immediately focused even more tightly on her – there was something about the tremble in her voice. When she spoke again, she could only manage a whisper.

"It was their baby. Kendra and Chandler's."

Both of their eyes instantly went to Suzaku's closed sketch pad.

"The only way I could stop Nikolai was by convincing him to…"

"To set you free," he quietly supplied, only too familiar with the only kind of true liberty. Her eyes swung back to his, huge and drenched with confusion and guilt.

"I don't want that, Suzaku. I don't want to be set free of them! Why did I dream of that? And did I turn Nikolai into that? Did I… did I break him when I couldn't love him?" Her voice was so tiny and lost; Suzaku could only offer her the truth.

"I don't know, Aurora."

"I know. I'm sorry," she weakly apologized, pressing her palm to her eyes to stem the tears.

"Don't be," Suzaku murmured before he had a chance to think it through. When she slowly lowered her hand to look at him with wide eyes and raised brows, he swallowed thickly, and continued. "I… I know I haven't exactly been cooperative, and I know that there's nothing I could do that would repay all that you, and Kendra and Chandler, have done for me. So I want you to know that, at the very least, I am honored by your trust in me. I've done nothing to deserve it, but I will treasure it as well as I can."

"I'm not keeping a tally, Suzaku," she said with a tired, gentle smile. "You didn't have to listen. It can't have been easy."

Suzaku shrugged, wincing when the habitual gesture hurt more than he could hide.

"I know that. But I wanted to. I'd almost forgotten what it was like – to care for someone's wellbeing beyond their physical safety."

Aurora's fingers reached out, gently brushing over the back of his, their skin gilded by faint candlelight.

"I'm glad you remembered. Thank you, Suzaku. Bad memories can be frightening when you face them alone."

It was true – they could be terrifying. He knew that struggle all too well, sometimes infusing his every waking moment.

"You're not to blame, you know," he finally said after a while. "You made the right choice, for you and for Nikolai. Even at your lowest, you still did the best you could for those around you. I wish I could say the same about myself."

Aurora leaned forward, her other hand closing around his wrist as her eyes deepened with intensity.

"You can. Everything you've ever done was to protect others. It's not just your goal or drive; it's your definition. You sacrificed everything for the sake of everyone. How could anyone else, let alone a traumatized teenager, be that selfless?"

"But I'm not," Suzaku weakly protested. Her mouth curled into a crooked grin.

"You are. I'll always believe that – you can stake your life on it."

He really could, Suzaku realized as he gazed into her bright eyes. Aurora had a kind of faith in him he'd thought had been eradicated by false heroes and corrupt kings. It certainly wasn't the wisest of convictions, but he couldn't doubt its strength. He was helpless against the small smile that crept across his face.

"You'll never let anything happen to that baby. You know that, right?"

Aurora's chuckle was a little rusty, but strong.

"I'll watch over that kiddo like a hawk. I may have gotten my ass handed to me a time or two, but now I'm older, wiser, and meaner. Ain't nothing getting through Auntie Aurora." She pushed back from her chair, patting her thigh to call Ban to follow her. Aurora paused before leaving the kitchen, approaching Suzaku's side.

"Thank you for reminding me of that," she murmured as she rested a hand on his good arm. As she leaned down, Suzaku's brain practically shut off. He had no idea what she was doing, or how he should respond. The light brush of her lips over his cheek sent a shiver down his spine, and something like fireworks shot through his brain.

"Goodnight, Suzaku," she said quietly as she left the kitchen. The stairs were already lightly creaking with her steps before he managed to respond.

"Goodnight." His voice didn't even sound like him – Suzaku couldn't recall the last time he'd croaked like that. His hand slightly shook as he reached up to brush the pads of his fingers of the same stretch of skin she'd kissed. Suzaku knew intellectually that it had just been a friendly gesture from an affectionate person in thanks. So why didn't he feel the same way? Why did he feel… bright? Like a sun was rising in his brain and there were stars in his blood.

But that was ridiculous. Gathering up his sketch pad and pencils, Suzaku made his way up to bed. He didn't fall asleep until three in the morning, staring out at the stars as he tossed and turned. And when he woke the next day, he was no closer to an answer. So, in his usual fashion, Suzaku re-established a safe distance between them. He may be starting to thoroughly trust Aurora, but he was experiencing yet another reason why he simply couldn't trust himself.

Two steps forward, one step back. Wow, for an author who considers herself to be pretty weak with dialogue, that was a butt-ton of talking. The speech Suzaku gives Aurora about treasuring her trust is a little hokey, but after re-watching a few CG episodes (because, you know, I have no life, apparently), it dawned on me that such behavior is totally Suzaku. He's chivalrous and formal and he takes shit way too seriously. Luckily, Aurora likes that; she thinks it's sweet.

While I put a great deal of thought into the actual aspects of her dream and its symbolism, I kept the analysis pretty light here. Neither of these goofballs are professionals– they're just trying to fumble their way to making each other feel a little less like shit. So, if you really wanted to, there's a great deal more to pull out of that dream.

I tried to make my mentions of the bratva and vory v zakone as realistic as possible. For a nerd with zero experience with criminal elements, I don't think I did too bad. If you find a glaring mistake or I made a hack-job of the Russian, please let me know.

Here's to Yuri Lowenthal taking over my life. You amazing bastard, you.

Hope you like it!

Love, Tango