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24 pts





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A very femme, shy young man came to find Nikita the next time he was inside the C.E.L.L. compound, peering about as if not particularly certain of his well-being. Dark blond hair fell into his washed-out, nervous eyes, and he swallowed hard as he approched the gypsy. "Ah....Nikita? A word, if you please?"

"Vasily." Niki made a slight bow, letting one eyebrow rise briefly over a hazel green eye as he dusted off his shirt. He had just finished a sweet roll lifted from a table as he had come in. Crumbs clung to his cuff still. "To what do I owe the -ahem- honor?" Drat. Crumbs on the boots. He smiled at Vasily before he knelt down to clean the leather.

The little accountant blushed faintly at being recognized, and cleared his throat hastily. "I...ah...Sascha would like to see you," he said in a ruch, hands clasped tightly in front of him. His glasses had slipped down his nose, making his huge eyes seem even more petrified. "He...he asked that I send you as soon as you returned."

"You've got a smudge on your shoe, Vasily." Taking a handkerchief from his sleeve, Nikita carefully wiped the mark off. Hand still on Vasily's foot, Niki raised his eyes back to Vasily's. "Now, what does the charming Sascha want with a lowly peon like myself?" He rocked back on his heels and smiled wide. "Perhaps he is missing cufflinks?"

"I...ah..." Nearly incoherent with the proximity to another person, Vasily stammered for a moment, then shook his head violently. "No, no! He...he said it was business, and that he had...had an offer for you!"

((Vasily: *gonna be all starry-eyed over Niki now XD;; ))

"Ah. In that case, we shouldn't keep him waiting." He stood abruptly, legs straightened. A comradely hand on Vasily's shoulder put Nikita even close to the young man. "Of course, it's been so very long that I've seen Sascha even at a distance, you'll have to guide me." He squeezed lightly. "But you don't mind me too horribly, do you Vasily?"

The blood drained completely from the little Russian's face, and he simply stared at Niki for a moment, trembling under the hand on his shoulder. "Y-yessir," he whispered, though technically he was higher in rank- right now, it seemed the only appropriate answer. "F-follow me."

The way to Sascha's office was slightly roundabout, since the room was buried between the armory and the infirmary. Inside, the compound was much more elegant than its rough exterior suggested; their footsteps were softened by thick carpets and heavy velvet drapes. Vasily stopped at one quiet, unmarked door, opening it gently to peek inside. "Oh, good, he's not busy."

He opened the door, stepping inside and clearing his throat. "Sascha..."

Nikita took a deep breath before following Vasily into the room. It forced his head and shoulders back, letting him feel a bit more nonchalant as he glanced coolly around the room. He drank in the elegant surroundings slowly, then dropped his gaze to the carpeting. It was a slow moment before he worked his eyes up to Sascha's, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. "Sir?"

Pale skin standing out in sharp contrast to his dark clothing, hair, and the leather he sat against, Sascha Mikhailov raised his head and fastened piercing blue eyes on the newcomer. They darkened considerably as he noticed his proximity to Vasily; he motioned abruptly, sending the accountant scurrying out of the room with the door shut behind him. Rising from his chair to loom over the desk, Sascha motioned to the chair across from his desk.

"Come, sit, Nikita," he said softly. "I trust you did not upset little Vasily when he lead you here?"

His steps were steady enough, though the floor seemed to eat the normally resounding noises of his boots. Nikita sat easily in the chair, not quite slouching as he waved one hand lazily. "Why would I upset Vasily? I like Vasily. He's..."Nikita shrugged. "Conscientious. It's a good quality." He crossed his legs, resting both hands palm up on his thighs. His heart was pounding despite his easy smile. "But you wanted to speak with me, yes?"

"Just be certain he has no reason to be afraid of you, Nikita," Sascha murmured ominously, placing himself elegantly in his chair. His dark curls were carefully contained by a black ribbon, but there was a tension in his body that denied control. His temper was..famous, once it got started. "I am inclined to be generous...for the moment."

He let the comment rest in the air for a moment, then closed his eyes to diminish that crystaline focus. "I have heard some interesting rumors about what you are capable of, once you feel the need," he said gently, as if nothing had happened. He looked up again, and raised an eyebrow. "I may have use...for your unusual abilities."

Nikita squirmed just a bit. "I would not do anything to Vasily to harm him! Play, maybe. But never harm." His fingernails looked all the more interesting the more Sascha spoke. A shame all the dust had been, well dusted from his boots already, or Niki would have stalled further. "What abilities? I am but a humble servant, here for your bidding. Powerless. Aren't I?"

"Vasily is mine...until he himself tells me otherwise. Do not give me reason to regret summoning you." The tone was colder than the ice that decorated the paintings of Sascha's study. "I am told you have the ability to use a magic of your own, as someone Cursed or Blessed...do you? Answer me truthfully, Nikita, for I will know if you lie."

"You know Sascha, if anyone else made that threat to me, or dared ask that, I would be out of town before the bodies were found, yes?" Nikita could not help the glare he gave Sascha, even knowing he could be beaten for it. "But for you, to you...bah." He uncrossed his legs and planted them both firmly on the ground, holding his head in his hands and leaning forward until his hair fell over the band he used to keep it back. "Magic. Yes."

Silence met his little confession, followed by the soft sound of Sascha moving to stand in front of him. That sound was followed by a second- the unfamiliar, but unmistakable, sound of wings being spread. It was not commonly known that Sascha was a fallen angel- he kept it quiet, but offered it in exchange for what Nikita had given him. "Look at me," he said softly. "Look at me, Nikita. It is nothing to be ashamed of."

There was understanding now in his eyes as Niki gazed at Sascha. And a bit more fear than had been there before. "You hide your secrets, Sascha. Can you blame me, who has no rank to rely upon, for hiding mine?" He pushed his hair back, hating when it hid his face. "You will not tell, I hope?" His eyes danced nervously over the glory that stood before him, back to Sascha's face. "I swear, I will not tell a soul what you have shown me. Business, after all."

Heavy, tarnished wings folded carefully around the Russian leader's shoulders, and he leaned back against his desk with a sigh. "I like what I have seen of you, Nikita. Your abilities simply make you more useful to me- this is not something I would give to just anyone. Now my sisters, Anatolii, Vasily, and yourself know- along with a few of the others I associate with in the Syndicates. I trust you, and it has taken me some time to decide this."

He moved back around the desk, staring down at the crystal paperweight there with a frown. "I wish to give you more responsibility, more of our secrets- is that something you are capable of handling?"

Nikita blinked at the new turn Sascha had taken. Blinking slowly, he reformed the mental landscape. "You offer me much flattery, sir. I...thank you." He closed his eyes as he thought, tracing invisible lace onto the leather of the chair arm. "Of course, I am always willing to undertake new ways of keeping the balance. If more responsibilty is one way, than I would be greatly pleased to have it." He leaned back in the chair again, recrossing his legs. "Would these responsiblities bring me this way more often, by any chance?"

"You would be here more often, yes, and have rooms here like myself and Anatolii...but you would often be out on the streets, handling my business." Sascha glanced up with something oddly like a smile, tucking one errant curl behind his ear. "Unless that is a problem?"

This time there was no fight against it, Nikita just grinned, white teeth flashing. "A problem? No. Rooms for when I don't wander and streets for when I do. No problem at all, thank you."

"I will see to it, then," Sascha said distantly, visibly pulling himself back to his cool self even as he sent his wings back to being hidden from view. "Please, come at seven for dinner tonight- you should meet those who you will share a roof with. Anatolii is out at the moment- he is rarely home- and Svetlana is...training, but I think Kiska and I would enjoy the company."

"Shall I wear a tie, sir?" Even as he spoke, Nikita was standing and rearranging the folds of his loose clothing. "Or shall I bring one and remove it if it doesn't suit?" He winked at Sascha, turning for the door. "Until tonight, boss. And thank you, again. I'll show myself out." He barely breathed as he crossed the floor again, waiting until he was outside the room and the door shut tight behind him to lean against its comforting mass and gasp for air.