The Tiger and the Dragon by George deValier

Chapter 3 (Revised)

A faint ringing reverberated through the corners of Yao's mind, an insistent light creeping under his eyelids. When he finally fought his way to consciousness, Yao found himself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Blinking the bleariness from his eyes, he slowly turned his head to take in the room around him - average size, with stark white walls and a small simple table beside the bed. Bright light and muffled noise from the street outside drifted through a sliding glass door bordered by red curtains. Yao pushed himself up with his hands, his head swimming in confusion. Then he was suddenly confronted with the sight of Ivan Braginsky, the strangely hot, probably dangerous Russian stranger he'd met only hours earlier. The man leant on a table against the wall, his arms folded before him and that small, serene smile on his lips. It all came flooding back - sitting at the bar, drinking wine, passing out - and Yao suppressed the urge to dive under the bed. He was mortified.

"Oh. Hi."

"Good evening, little Dragon. You are feeling better after your sleep, yes?"

"Well..." Well, actually his head hurt and the overhead lamp was blinding him and he didn't know where he was and he felt more embarrassed than he could ever remember feeling in his entire life. "Yeah, a little." Yao ran a hand over his aching head. Drinking countless glasses of wine after a week of working late and barely eating probably wasn't the best idea. Still, he couldn't believe he'd passed out. He looked around again. "Where am I? How did I get here?"

"This is my room upstairs. I carried you here."

"You... carried me." Yao could feel his pulse racing beneath his skin. He wasn't sure if it was from indignation or something else, something he didn't think he could acknowledge right now...

"Of course." Ivan spoke as though this was all completely normal. An anxious knot started to grow in Yao's stomach.

"You carried me, unconscious, to a room above your private bar."

Ivan smiled cheerfully. "Yes."

Yao furrowed his brows in confusion. "That's really a bit, er... a bit weird, you know."

Ivan tilted his head slightly. "Is it?"

Yao was pretty sure he should feel even more nervous than he actually did. He surreptitiously looked for the exit. "Why... um... why do you have a room above your bar?"

Ivan's smile almost became a smirk. "Because sometimes business talks go late and is easier to sleep here."

"Oh." Yao felt slightly relieved, while at the same time acutely aware of how intensely Ivan was looking at him. It was strange, uncomfortable, and oddly exciting all at once.

Ivan studied Yao silently for a few seconds more before saying, "Someone named Alfred called you."

Yao turned and swung his legs off the bed, so fast the room spun around him. "What? What did he say?"

"He asked where you were," Ivan answered plainly.

"Well, what did you tell him?" Yao prompted.

"That you are unconscious in my bed."

Yao's mouth fell open and his stomach fell to his feet. "Oh, shit."

"This was wrong?" Ivan looked gleeful as he asked.

"Not if you want him to track me down by GPS and burst in here and..." Yao paused, looking the huge Russian up and down. Actually, for once Alfred was likely to come off worst in that situation. Yao shook that image out of his head and looked around frantically. "Where's my phone?" Ivan held up Yao's cell phone, smirked slightly, then tossed it to Yao. He fumbled to catch it and quickly dialled Alfred.