WARNING. This story is rated M/M+. It will contain sexual references and graphic scenes; so I advise you not to read it unless you feel that you are mature and old enough. There will be fights and deaths and M scenes will not be marked or highlighted. Thank you and I hope you enjoy the story. Please review and let me know what you think of it :):):) Denicia xx

A bit of back story to help you understand this story. This story is ALL HUMAN.

Lissa is the daughter of an unknown millionaire and Rose, adopted by their family at birth; has trained all of her life to protect Lissa from those agencies in the world that want her, her name and her money. After all, riches and wealth is what every man wants for himself. In a world filled with mistrust, greed and backstabbing on every corner, can Rose and Lissa survive?

Lissa's family is dead. They went out for a picnic one day while Rose and Lissa were shopping. They never made it back home. The girls were aged 16. Since then they've continued to live under the radar. Rose completed all of her training and lives with Lissa and her boyfriend Christian in one of the states somewhere in America.

Christian has, of course, been checked and screened to ensure that he isn't a double agent simply trying to break them apart from the inside. Very few people make it into their circle of trust and the few that do, very rarely make it out alive. Life has made Rose hard and resilient; teaching her to trust nobody except Lissa; and now Christian. She would willingly give her life for Lissa's. She has trained all her life to be ready to do that, and yet, without the training she would do it anyway because Lissa is her best friend. She can kill someone twice her size in any number of ways in less than six seconds; and incapacitate them in three. Anyone half of her size can be taken out even more quickly.

She is deadly, and she is brutal. But, the tough exterior conceals a warm heart and kind soul; as Lissa would tell you. She is simply a hard shell because she has seen and wielded far too much death in her short eighteen years; and she cannot allow herself to allow Lissa to become another. The deaths have been brought about by her, to protect Lissa from the main agency who wants her, who unoriginally call themselves 'The Academy'.

But, we digress. As we said, these three characters are only eighteen years old. In fact, only two days ago did Rose finally turn eighteen. And that brings us to the opening of their tale.

Put your hands on my waistline
Want your skin up against mine
Move my hips to the bass line
Let me get mine you get yours.
Hang a please don't disturb sign
Put my back into a slow grind
Running chills up and down my spine
Let me get mine you get yours

So come on and freak my body we can get nasty, naughty
All night a private party
Gotta hit that spot just right
Work me like a 9 to 5

It ain't about the kissin`and huggin`cause this is a physical lovin`
Straight sweatin`, our bodies are rubbin`
Gotta hit that spot just right work me like a 9 to 5

Get mine, get yours - Christina Aguilera.

Rose POV.

The club is packed full to the brim with gyrating sweaty bodies grinding against each other to the heavy bass pouring out of the sound system. In fact, a minute ago, I had been one of them; crushed up next to some random guy and enjoying the freedom that came from knowing that for this one night; I was simply an eighteen year old girl free to dance and enjoy her long awaited and overdue birthday party. I knew that Lissa was safe, the 'link' told me that. We don't know exactly what it was; only that ever since we were babies, we've been able to share things through our minds. I say that we're simply freaks of nature or the next stage in human evolution; Lissa thinks that because we're such close friends; hell we're almost sisters, that it's just developed from our closeness. Like sympathy pains when you're pregnant or some crap like that. Whatever it is, I don't care. All I know is that it's helped us out in some pretty tight spots and allows me to keep an eye on Lissa and do my job, even when I can't physically keep an eye on her.

But tonight, I don't need to do my job. Well, I don't need to be quite as focused. Christian is with Lissa, probably tucked away in some dark corner of the club kissing and groping each other; letting their hormones run free and wild, so I know she's in good hands. Like me, he'd die before he let anyone harm her.

But the real reason that I'm not one of those excited horny bodies anymore is because of him. Although he is standing across the room by the bar, at this point in time I have a clear view of him. Tall; 6,6 maybe even 6 feet 7 inches tall. Broad, strong looking shoulders that taper in to a narrow yet muscled chest and waist. I can see from the tightness of his top that he works out and takes good care of himself; and boy, has it paid off. Continuing down his body I see that he has long, long legs; and I'd bet that they match his body perfectly. Muscled and defined. I cannot see properly, but I would bet everything I owned that he has big feet; and you know what they say about big feet. My eyes flick to the area slightly below the waistband of his trousers, and remembering where I am, my gaze flicks up to see if he has caught me looking.

His gaze is trained firmly on my face, and once I catch his line of sight; one of his eyebrows raises as if to ask 'see something you like?' I blush slightly at being caught out, and one corner of his mouth twitches slightly, as if he is fighting a smile. I drop my gaze and carry on with my silent inventory, despite my heart thumping wildly in my chest. My gaze travels across the broad expanse of his chest, taking in the way that his shirt hugs him in all the right places; hinting at the muscled glory I'm sure is concealed underneath. His arms, like the rest of his body are long, strong and sturdy looking. Biceps the size of grapefruits lead down to well-built forearms; that lead to elegant hands. Long, dexterous fingers for playing the piano, or playing with my… I stop that train of thought immediately. Hands that could probably pack one hell of a punch. Hands that, strangely; seem like they could be gentle or fierce.

And finally, I let my gaze travel up to his face. I avoid his eyes; remembering the way his gaze burnt into mine the last time. A strong jaw, which is something to always look for in a man. A man's jaw can either make or break the attraction. To me, a strong jaw is a sign of a strong mind; a real man. My stomach curls with the thought of what this man could do to someone like me. Would he be able to handle me, or would he break? I forget my silent musings and drink in the rest of his features. Brown, shoulder length hair pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. I would say that it's sandy, or hazel; but it's not. It seems almost like a chestnut brown, but the colour is deeper, richer; and under the poor lighting it is impossible to be sure. His cheekbones are defined and like his jaw, make his face strong. It is the same with his nose.

And finally, I let my gaze meet his.

I was right to save this for last. His eyes burn into mine with an intensity that I thought I had imagined. Chocolate brown, they melt the last of my resistance and inhibitions. My young, inexperienced body burns with the intensity of that gaze. I want to cry out, but I am frozen into place with a slight blush staining my cheeks once more. And this time, when my gaze meets his, he picks up the beer that has been beside him at the bar the whole time and starts to make his way over towards me. He gracefully steps around couples performing moves that I'm sure are only one step away from indecent exposure, all the while keeping his gaze locked with mine.

Anticipation curls my stomach again as I fantasise all the dirty things that are running through my head right now. Things about him and me. But on the other hand, I want to run far, far away before he can get to me; nerves and anxiety making an appearance for the first time in years. But his gaze keeps me pinned. The two sides war within me. One part wants him to hurry and get over here so I can drag his mouth to mine and take him right here on the dance floor. The hormones within me rage and pound, giving me feelings in places that have lain dormant for the past eighteen years. The other part, the part that I have locked away; ever since I gave my vow to put Lissa's life above my own, warns me to leave now while I have the chance. That is the side of reason. The side I shall trust.

Racking my brains desperately, I glance at my watch. Only 11:30pm. Lissa and won't want to leave yet. We've only been at the club for an hour. I'll have to grab her and make something up. If she finds out why I really want to leave, she'll refuse, insisting that I stay and talk to him. Ever since she met Christian and I deemed him to be trustworthy enough to keep around, she's been on a mission to find me a man. I do not need a man. I need to keep her safe. I look up to check how close he is, only to find that he has disappeared.

Perhaps he wasn't looking at me after all.

I sigh in relief, and spin ready to head to the bar at the other end of the room and get myself a stiff drink. Instead, I bump into a strong chest, and almost fall backwards from the impact. Oh no.

I glance upwards and meet warm brown eyes; which hold so many emotions. Right now, the primary one is concern seeing as I have nearly fallen. My skin burns from his touch, where his hand has caught my arm to steady me. His fingers are soft and smooth, sending sparks of electricity through my body. And then he speaks. A gentle voice, with the hint of an accent. Russian maybe? I have always been particularly weak when it comes to men with accents. That coupled with his serious gaze is all it takes. My knees have turned to jelly.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

I am completely gone.

Dimitri POV.

When you walk (when you walk) when you talk (when you talk)
I get the tingle, I wanna mingle, that's what I want (that's what I want)
And listen baby don't try to debate it.. try to make you understand you're on my radar (on my radar) on my radar (on my radar)
On my radar (got you on my) radar (got you on my) radar (got you on my) RADAR

Interesting sense of style
Ten million dollar smile
Think I can't handle that
Animal in the sack
His eyes see right to my soul
I surrender self-control
Catch me looking again
Falling right into my plan..

Hey baby whether it's now or later (I've got you)
you can't shake me (no)
cuz I got you on my radar
Whether you like it or not, it ain't gonna stop
cuz I got you on my radar (I've got you)
cuz I got you on my radar

Radar - Britney Spears

She is more beautiful than the reports state. She is devastatingly beautiful. A train wreck just waiting to happen. And I have been assigned to her. I have never regretted a case more. Take out a couple of corrupt government officials? Sure, no problem. But to do this. To do something, which I know by doing, will break this young girls heart… Now that I have finally seen her, I cannot calm my thoughts.

But I have to. As Petrov keeps reminding me through the irritating earpiece that keeps me in contact with the rest of the team, I was assigned to this. Find Rosemarie Hathaway. Get inside. Get Miss. Dragomir and bring her back to The Academy where she can be protected and safe. Get out. Do this by any means possible.

Plain and simple. But not so simple once you get close. I saw when she first entered the club. Watched as she hovered protectively near to Miss. Dragomir, despite being told several times by her and the boy to leave and enjoy herself. It took her a while, and a few drinks, but eventually she started to relax. Danced, and chatted with a couple of guys who were obviously looking for a good time. And that's when my idea to 'get in' formed. She hadn't noticed me yet, so she wouldn't be suspicious. I needed to act like the rest of the louts in this club. I needed to grab her attention; and keep it. Get in close and stay there.

She was celebrating her eighteenth that had occurred a few days ago. I was twenty four, almost twenty five; but looked younger. Well not younger, but I had aged well. I had been told that I carried a sense of maturity and understanding to go alongside someone twice my age; yet had the looks to play someone years younger. A compliment of sorts.

So I knew I could pull this off. I stayed at the bar, waiting for the right moment. I had told Petrov my idea and she felt that it was good enough, and wouldn't get us into trouble if things went sour. I nursed my beer, watching as she danced continuously with almost every guy that had the guts to come up and ask her. I wondered if, had this been real; would I have had the guts to go and ask her to dance? Or would I have simply remained on the sidelines and watched? I had no answers. But this was a job; and it needed to be put into action sooner rather than later.

Finally, she took a breather as the song changed, and I stood. With my height, I stood out, and she definitely noticed. She catches sight of me and freezes. Because I am watching her, waiting for the right moment to go over I see as she silently takes me in, checking me out. I work out everyday, and it has paid off; delivering me with a muscled body that would put almost any bodybuilder to shame. I see as her gaze travels across my chest and down to my feet before flicking up to my manhood and then to my face.

I have one eyebrow raised in a silent question and she blushes when she sees that I have seen. I almost smile, catching myself just in time. I wonder if she is as naïve as other's that I have met, who seem to believe that the size of a mans feet, or hands, is a reflection of how 'big' he is. Although, in my case it is true; I know with others, the same rule cannot be applied. She drops her gaze, and continues as before, this time regarding my upper body. I know what she will see; so I use this chance to study her, in the same way that she is studying me.

Long, smooth, sleek, beautiful, nearly black with just the right hint of brown, waist length hair. Hair that looked like it would flow through my fingers like silk. Whenever she moved, it swung like a waterfall, and grabbed the attention of almost every man in the place. Aiding her natural seduction. A soft, feminine body. Curvy in all the right places. The ultimate hourglass figure. She reminded me of the lingerie models I'd seen on my sisters magazines when I still lived at home, but she was a million time better. And right then, I felt a pang of longing and sadness. I did not want to do this to this young woman. She had been through more than enough in her life already, would it really be fair for me to add to that list? Indecision flew through me as I carried on my mental assessment.

Strong, defined legs. Tanned, sexy, sensual legs concealed by a thigh length black dress that clung to her body in all the right places and filled me with lust. Wide hips. Hips that would be perfect for having children. Once again, the strange longing welled up inside of me; and with difficulty I pushed it back down. I could not afford to become distracted. A moment to appreciate her great beauty and the fact that everything in me was screaming to take her and hide away somewhere. To do crazy things like leave my job, marry her, have kids and grow old. Where the hell had thoughts like that come from?

Smooth delicate arms, yet they were toned, like her legs; from the years of intense exercise and training. A narrow waist which tapered in from a generous bosom. This woman was a killer, in both nature, appearance and career; and she had dressed to show it. There was no plunging neckline on the dress, or tightness which outlined her breasts, but it was sexy just the same. She knew how to maximise what she had been given, whilst looking classy, not trashy.

My gaze travelled up to her face. Smooth, tanned skin. Defined cheekbones set in a heart shaped face. Cupids bow lips. Soft, pink and kissable. Another pang wracked through my chest with the thought that I would get to kiss those lips; but it would not be real. For her it would be, but not for me. It could not be. Because this was a job.

Until I met her eyes. Hazel brown eyes. Young, yet weary of the world; locked with mine and pinned me in place. I felt as though she could see right through to my soul. Damn this job. Damn it to hell. I had to get to know her. If I did it, I would lose any chances I had of getting to know the real Rose Hathaway and making whatever chance I had work. I needed to talk to her. Hell, I needed her. I pick up the beer that I have held for the last hour; yet when she sees my movement she seems startled, like she wants to run. That can't happen. I feel desperate and so start to push though the crowd more urgently to get there before she can flee.

She keeps my gaze as I continue to make progress towards her, and then glances down at her watch.


I push though more anxiously, but to the side. If she's going to run, perhaps I can cut her off. But she doesn't move; and I use that time to approach her from behind. Suddenly, she spins; catching me off guard and bumps into my chest. She almost topples backwards, and instinctively I reach out to steady her. The moment my hand touches her, fire bolts shoot through my body. It is as if I am being electrocuted, but in a good way.

Her breathing is ragged and erratic, and this close up I can see that her pupils are starting to dilate. Is it possible that she could be feeling the same way I do?

My mind has gone blank. I cannot think of what I should say, now that I am here in front of her. All I can do is stare into her beautiful brown eyes in wonder and awe. And it is at this precise moment that Petrov decides to stick her nose in. "Say something. Engage in conversation Belikov rather than standing around like a gorm. Do something!"

So I say the only words that will grant me a brief reprieve from both women, and perhaps; create a conversation with the beautiful Rosemarie Hathaway.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

Please review and let me know what you thought of this!

I'm very sorry to any readers of True Love? Or The End? Or Rose, Craig and The Alchemists for not updating regularly. As I said, I have lots and lots of homework because I'm in my final year, but this idea came into my head and has been bugging me for the past few days. So once, I get it all finished and posted, my complete focus will be back on those two stories. I will be trying to write chapters for them, but if my mind isn't in the mood to write them, everything will come out as rubbish. Sorry! Denicia xx