The Last Romanov (Under Editing)

Her Father's Daughter

Sasha was more comfortable in that situation than he ever thought he would be.

Frankly, he was more relaxed than any man, sane or not, should have been while imprisoned by the Okhrana. He was reclined comfortably on the scratchy mattress, his hospital gown of and covering his nether regions should anybody decide to come into the cell. For the most part, he just watched a fly, whom he had named Vlad, buzz around his cell, periodically landing on the shit bucket, as if he thought there would be something more interesting in that bucket than there'd been the last time, even though Vlad knew damned well that he hadn't used it, yet.

So, yes: you could say that he was slowly descending into madness. But, he guessed it was better than going into whatever experience he was about to have completely sane, right?

He started drumming his metallic fingers against the wall of his cell. For one reason or another, the walls to his cell were hollow, each brick a different level of hollow. He'd figured out how to play a few songs from his childhood on the bricks. At the moment, he was working on Yablochko, some weird song about an apple that his grandmother used to hum while she was doing chores around the house. And he'd already learned Korobienki, that weird song about the cossak that fell in love, and... well, he didn't actually remember the name of the song, or the lyrics. All he could really remember was the aggressive tone with which his grandmother would hum it whenever she saw Sasha and his grandfather doing something they most certainly weren't supposed to be doing.

Part of him almost wished that somebody would come in and start screaming for answers to some question.

Finally, though, the door to his cell was unlocked and none other than Anastasia walked in, Zelenko close behind.

Sasha didn't bother standing up. He just looked up at them. "I was starting to wonder whether or not you people forgot about me."

"Why aren't you standing for your Czarina?" Zelenko snapped. "I demand that you show your queen the proper respect!"

Sasha got another terrible idea, and like the last time he did, he didn't stop himself from making a mistake. "As you wish," he said, and he stood up, allowing his hospital gown to fall away from his nether regions, exposing his manhood to his queen and to the commander of the Okhrana.

Sasha didn't think he'd ever see Anastasia blush the way she did when she saw every part of his body.

Anastasia covered her eyes, turning away, while Zelenko simply cursed. "Put that damned gown back on!"

Once again, Sasha obeyed, putting on the dirty gown they'd given him at the hospital when he was admitted. He'd hated it, at first, but now, he was starting to see a few distinct advantages to it.

"Well, I don't think I need to ask about the incident Zelenko reported to me, now," Anastasia said, peeking out from under her hand to make sure that Sasha was a little more decent before she took her hand away from her forehead entirely. "What the hell has gotten into you, exactly? Have you lost your mind?"

"If you had one to begin with," Zelenko said under his breath.

Sasha glared at him. "You have something to say to me, then just say it-"

"Both of you: shut the hell up!"

Sasha and Zelenko got quiet as Anastasia gave both of them looks to kill. If there was one thing the two of them could agree on, it was that messing with that woman was a horrible idea.

"Now, I don't know what's gotten into the two of you, but whatever it is, it has to stop right now," Anastasia ordered. "I don't have time to deal with this stupid quarrel, so if it continues, I'll send both of you to Siberia until you learn to play nicely. Am I clear?"