Guts Over Fear ◇ NIKITA

Bad Dog

No risk, no reward. Alys shivered at Nikita's voice in her ear, leaning on her elbow as she cased the building. She was risking a lot back then, skirting passed guards and avoiding detection, and she was risking a lot now, walking in unannounced to a Bratva outpost. With soft sigh, she removed her keys from the ignition as she watched someone leave, slowly making her way up to the autoshop front.

It was a smart one, you could easily smuggle weapons or drugs with an auto garage - even people. As she walked through the door, a little bell chimed over her head, signalling her presence to a mechanic and anyone else inside. "'Ello, little lady," the Russian mechanic cheekily replied. "What brings you to my shop?" He wiped his hands on a rag and took some steps towards Alys.

"I'm looking for my brothers," she casually answered, her Russian accent strong as she undid the first button on her light button down, pulling the left side of the collar back to reveal the eight pointed star on her chest. "I was told I could find them here." The man visibly tensed and stopped walking, eying the star and then the petite blonde girl it was printed on.

"Where did you get that mark, girl?" he asked skeptically. A door opened and several more men spilled out of it, her adrenaline spiking.

"I said I was looking for my brothers," Alys easily supplied. "That's what bratva means, yes? Brotherhood?"

"Yes, suka, that's what it means. Why is some girl wearing the mark of a captain?" one of the men who left the room acknowledged, causing Alys' eyes to narrow at the insult. However, luck would be on her side this go, for her eyes found a familiar face.

"Antov, care to clear the air?" she asked a bit expectantly. There was a small curl to the man's lips before everyone's eyes turned to him.

"My apologies, sestra," he chuckled, putting two fingers to his brow and bringing them down in a curved motion of apology. Alys returned the gesture and relaxed a bit. "Gentlemen, this is Kelevra." The air in the room shifted, and if any of them spoke Hebrew, they'd know that bitch is just another nickname. "It's been long, my friend."

"Hope that it had been longer, it would've been beneficial for everyone," Alys chuckled, shaking the man's hand when he offered it.

"You expect me to believe this little girl is a world renoun ghost?" another one of the men spoke up. Hey, I'm not short, hardly dainty. Where's all this 'little' crap coming from? Alys thought with a scoff.

"I don't need to prove myself to you," she acknoledged.

"Eh, you might," Antov corrected softly. When Alys' hard gaze snapped to him, he added, "Show good faith, yeah?"

"Yeah," Alys eventually sighed. "What is it you need me to do for you? A favor?" Antov nodded and looked to the man who'd called Alys a bitch, and he left everyone in a stiff silence as he returned to the room they'd left earlier, exitting the room once more dragging a man bound in zipties and a gag out as an offering. A sacrifice for partnership.

"You can call it that," Antov shrugged, also watching as the man was knelt before them. With another soft sigh, Alys squatted before her offering, the ritual ingrained into her, mind and body. Gently removing the gag from the man's mouth, she ran a gloved finger over his cheek.

"What is your name?" she asked in a soothing voice, all calm about her. The man ran his eyes over Antov and the men visible to him before bringing them back to Alys. Her face was sympathetic, kind, all the things these men were expecting to find in this 'little girl.'

"K-Kristov," was all he could mumble. He showed more than just the psychological signs of Russian-style torture.

"Thank you, Kristov." Alys stood and came around the back of the traumatized man, quickly looping her fingers through the back of the gag and jerking up over her shoulder, facing the crowd of men with the blankest expression she could manange as she strangled Kristov.

Many of them watched in awe, the girl they doubted earlier proving to be the ruthless killer she claimed. A good deal of them had a look of mild shock or fear, not expecting this capacity of her.

After a minor struggle and some prolonged gagging sounds, Alys dropped the man to the floor, dead, and dusted off her hands. "I hope to have instilled good faith, bratya," the blonde quipped with a polite smile. "I like to make good on my word."

Two of the men began dragging the body away, Alys' position now clear through the room. "If I may ask, what happened to you, my friend?" Antov asked as he came to stand beside her.

Holding a hand over her stomach and failing to stifle a grimace, she mumbled, "Not yet." Knowing she'd have to give some explaination, she shifted her footing and folded her arms across her chest. "Someone was taken from me, and I need to know who did it. I put her peace in your hands, brother," Alys nodded to the Pakhan tattoo upon his chest.

"Rest well, sestra. As long as we get the information, we'll find your man -- or, woman," he added with a soft chuckle.

"Not today. I'll come to you."

"Dasvidanya," Antov nodded, still facing his brothers as Alys left the garage. Though, she still felt the weight of all the eyes on her as she went. She drove home exhausted, but not physically, and she just wanted some rest.

She didn't know how she didn't hear it until the front door shut, but the shower was running. At least, it was for a few seconds before the water shut off, Nikita wrapped in a towel exiting a short moment later. With a quiet scoff, Alys shook her head and walked into her room. "My flight was lovely, thanks for asking," Nikita called as she followed closely behind.

"I didn't," Alys pointed out, shrugging off her blazer. "I didn't even know you'd be here." Not having the energy to care, Alys continued to strip and change into something more comfortable than a pantsuit to sleep in.

"I like surprising you," Nikita added in a softer voice.

"Despite how much you know I hate surprises," Alys sighed. Nikita hadn't moved to dress, only stood there and dripped onto the carpet, watching the blonde busy herself so she wouldn't have to look that way.

"Alex graduated," she announced. "She's outside now." Alys frowned and sat on her bed with a soft sigh. "I can't set her free because Percy is making the killchip tracker the new standard issue. She's fitted with one, just like you." Alys held her forehead in her hands and took a few deep breaths, finally allowing herself to look at Nikita's wet, mostly naked form.

"Niki, we've had this talk," she sighed tensely, not wanting to go over it again.

"I know, but I wanted you to know." Closing her eyes for a moment, she reopened them to see that Nikita finally moved a bit closer, no longer standing in the small puddle she created. "I can't get hers out, either. But I rigged a dummy system, clones the signal. You could be halfway around the world before Division even knew." Alys sighed and turned her head, just barely seeing Nikita set something small on her nightstand. "If you ever need it, you have it."

Alys didn't respond for a long moment, unable to turn down Nikita's help whether she wanted to or not. It simply wasn't her choice, apperantly. "Are you going to drip dry all over my flat or are you going to get dressed and come sleep with me?" she finally asked, ignoring the problem she was just presented.

"You want my clothes on for that?" Nikita checked, a smirk on her lips that easily coaxed one on Alys'.

"I want sleep, Niki. Whether you want to big spoon or not is up to you," she supplied, getting comfortable as Nikita moved about her room. The whole thing felt natural, like this is how things should have been. But Alys knew she was gripping to threads at this point, she knew she lost hold of Nikita far long ago.

She closed her eyes when Nikita's arms curled around her, and Alys could surely feel her gaze fall upon the back her neck. Her long hair was the only grace hiding the miniscule scar there, but even that didn't last long. Whether gravity pulled it down or Nikita did, the scar was presented for her view, and it didn't take long to find.

The brunette placed a gentle kiss to the usually horizontal scar that currently ran vertically, Alys couldn't help the way she tensed up at the feeling. "I'll help you, I swear," she whispered, only increasing the unease that had been slowly growing in her stomach. She loved Nikita, but this was beginning to be too much. As much as Alys wanted her and had been yearning for her, she knew that this was it for them.