"What are you thinking about?" she asked him one night, finding his eyes still open, looking at the ceiling. They never talked about their work when they were alone together, taking only the company of one another, leaving rest to be done only in the time of rest. Dawn was coming soon, but they had only just crept into bed, both apparently drained enough to forego intimate contact…

He turned towards her and caressed her cheek with the pads of his fingers. "You, my dear," he answered. She could not see it clearly, but from his tone of voice, she knew that he was smirking, an expression that few people have seen. "A beauty like you must have triumphed over the hearts of many men…"

She chuckled, showing her agreement. "Well, there are a few," she replied, feeling his arm wind around her waist, causing her to pause a moment as she felt the increase of closeness between them. Those of her youth she had forgotten for the most part, but the more recent ones, they all left a lasting impression on her. "I met one of them while I was working with Batkin, a tall, dark and handsome Captain."

At her description of said individual, she felt him tense a little, but then she kissed his chin and he relaxed ever so slightly. "What was he like?" he asked her, clearly wanting to know the competition that he faced, concocted or no.

"He was one of the best I ever had, with the bluest eyes," she answered, her heart racing a little when she realized who she was describing. "Nothing went between us until the time we went on a tour in Siberia… From then on, something just… exploded, and my heart beat ten times faster whenever I saw him." As she spoke those words, she was once again reminded of the stalwart Captain that was waiting for her to return to the 141, after she had found a way to end the reign of terror that the man beside her had created. "A touch, a glance… when you know that you can die the next moment, suddenly everything matters."

"You must have loved him," he suggested, placing a kiss on her forehead. However, she shook her head, causing him to furrow his brow. "What is it then?"

"It was something else," she answered, her voice trailing as she seemed to look into the distance, as if she could see the man's face right before her. "Somehow, we managed to come up with a deal… that we'd be there for one another, no matter what it takes…" She felt his told over her tighten, and she turned around to face him. "Now… I don't even know if he's dead or alive…"

He did not allow her to finish her sentence. Instead, he placed his lips over hers and claimed her with a searing kiss which held a meaning that she understood more than ever. He was proclaiming that she was his, and only his. As his tongue gently grazed her lower lip, she opened her mouth ever so slightly, allowing him entrance, submitting to him. "It is time for you to move on, my dear," he whispered into her ear once their lips parted for precious breath. "Do not tie yourself to the past."

She chuckled, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. "You were the one who started it," she reminded him, noting that he had done nothing at all to conceal the pang of jealousy that was so evident from his voice. "Don't worry," she reassured him, leaning her head on his chest. "You are my future now."

"Liar," Makarov harrumphed, winding an arm around her shoulders as he started to close his eyes. Within seconds, sleep already took him, leaving her to guess the meaning of his words.

Cpl. Maria "Anya" Allen

Task Force 141 – Disavowed.

Medicins San Frontieres Branch, Qinghai Province, China.

Anya woke up from her nap on the couch confused. She remembered that night clearly, when Makarov had asked her about the men in her life. It started as a question out of curiosity, but she knew that she ended up revealing more than she needed to. At that time, her thoughts had been darted to MacTavish and the boys back in the 141… She did not even know how Makarov could read her mind.

Heck, she was not sure why she had indirectly told Makarov of her relationship with MacTavish, but she knew that it was the most foolish thing that she had ever done in the list of the utterly foolish things she had committed while by his side. Nothing had happened between her and MacTavish throughout her time in the 141 but for the odd pecks here and there when they were alone together, but after what happened last night, she did not know how to deal with him at all.

Before she was inserted into Moscow, she would have tried to admit to herself that she did have feelings for him, but now, she told herself that even if she did, she did not deserve him. It was not the sense of guilt that everyone would have thought it was, it was the fact that ever since she had been by Makarov's side, she was never able to let him out of her mind. His train of thought, the meaning of his words… those were the details that she filled her head with, but in the later days, what plagued her the most soon became his touch, the furrow of his brow when he tried to read her, his lips gently caressing all over her body… She could not be free of him, and she knew that she could not give her heart to MacTavish unless she could remove Makarov's presence, physically, and in her mind. MacTavish deserved nothing less than that.

"You seem to have a lot on your mind, Anya," Price told her as he took the seat next to her. MacTavish had already fallen asleep, too tired from the exertion of the physiotherapy session he had to undergo. "I thought that you'd lighten up after Soap woke up," he added, causing her to sigh.

"I don't know what came over me," she uttered while burying her head in her hands.

Price put a hand on her shoulder, definitely knowing the meaning of her words, and said, "The two of you should talk it out, and none of you both deserve to be left hanging with anything."

"I don't know what to say to him about it," she countered, looking at Price. There were so many things that she wanted to tell him, but she knew that she could not. "I…"

"Give it time," Price offered, squeezing her shoulder gently. "But don't take too long. Our time here might be cut short at any moment."

She did not say anything following Price's words, because she knew that what he said was the truth, even before what was now known as the Russo-American War had started. By then, American forces were already able to chase the Russians from the eastern seaboard, but the cost of such a success was great, civilian lives bearing the brunt of it. Makarov had gone underground since the Russian defeat, but no one among the 141 and the Loyalists ever believed that he was already down and out. As soon as MacTavish was well enough to wield a gun, they would be back on the grid. Until then, she would have to come to terms about her divided heart. She would give him what he needed from her, until the time came for her to face her own demons. It was a compromise that she knew that could compel the both of them to fight until they could see the end of the war.

Three nights later, she walked into MacTavish's ward and sat at the stool next to his bed. He was asleep, but she stayed there anyway. Holding his hand in hers, she kissed it gently at the knuckles, and watched him wake up slowly. "Anya," he greeted her sleepily, clearly surprised by her sudden change of approach.

"I have an answer for you," she told him, placing his hand on the side of her face, taking a deep breath as she contemplated her next words. For a long while she just stayed there, looking into his eyes, smiling to herself. "I want you to know that the feelings between us… it's mutual. I'd die for you, even if you weren't my Captain."

Those words gladdened him greatly, so much so that he drew her into his arms and kissed her temple. However, he knew that from her expression that there was a "but" that she had not told him. There was always a "but" with Anya. "But…?" he helped her spit out the very word she was trying to say, causing her to chuckle, slightly embarrassed.

"But… I need time…" she told him, knowing that if she was to have any future with MacTavish, or any inkling of a coming future with him, she had to purge herself of any memory of what was still haunting her. She had tried to this past week, and she knew that she would fail all the same. It was ironic, that before she had almost risked her life for the man she was trying so hard to forget now… "It would be selfish of me to…"

"I don't care about that, Anya," MacTavish replied, cutting her off, burying his head into her shoulders. "I just want you to know that I'll be here for you. I just want you to be happy… You don't need to fight off that monster alone." They were all damaged by what they had seen, what they had suffered silently, because of the duties that they had taken. He knew that he could not promise Anya anything but himself, and it was all that he had offered.

She sighed, and nodded. "Thank you," she murmured, returning his embrace. Who was she to refuse him? Who was she to deny herself to him, if he had such selfless caring for her? Slowly, she helped him lean back onto the bed, and kissed him lightly. "Captain…"

MacTavish pulled a finger to her lips, hushing her. "John," he corrected. Now that the 141 was practically defunct with the exception of him, Price and Anya, rank no longer held any meaning. He realized suddenly that she never addressed him by his first name before. It was always his last name, or "Captain".

"John," she repeated after him with a smile, a genuine one, because he could see her eyes slightly diminishing in size. "You've got to get some sleep. Price will blow my head off if he knew that I kept you awake." However, MacTavish would not let her go. He took her by the wrist and pleaded her to stay with him for the night. "You need your rest, John," she added, allowing him a kiss between her words before gently prying herself away from him.

Once she was out the door, she saw Price right outside. There was no doubt that he had heard everything. Yuri was right… The walls there were too thin. "I'm happy for you both," he told her. "It's about time that the two of you got together, considering whatever Nikolai told me these few days."

"It's the best that I could think of," she admitted, having found no other alternative but to give in, to allow herself to float to wherever her destiny would bring her. "Probably the best for us both…"

"The boys would be happy to see you two together too," Nikolai quipped, bravely facing her eventual wrath for revealing too much information about her to Price.

"I'll never hear the end of it, won't I?" she asked the two of them, and they shook their heads as an answer. She left them at the hallway and crawled into her sleeping bag, muttering something that sounded like a rant on men and their childishness, but she knew that they cared for them, Price and Nikolai. She also knew that Nikolai was right, that if the boys were still alive, they would have celebrated at the knowledge that she and MacTavish were now together. She even remembered that they had started to take bets as to when their relationship would start.

It was the memory of the boys that made it a bittersweet moment for her, but she knew that it was their memory that brought this new chapter into her life, and she knew that it was this moment that would further force her will to see the end of this war, because she had a reason to live beyond the need to right the wrongs that she had done, because she knew that MacTavish would be bringing her to the end of the line.