The creak of old leather competed with the loud thump of music coming from a battered old jukebox that sat in the corner. Walking through the dimly lit room Piotr scanned it for any potential threat.

Two old men sat nursing their beers at one table. An older, middle aged woman with too much makeup and too little clothing stood leaning against the bar talking to some suited fool, a band of white on one finger telling Piotr that he wasn’t talking to his wife. The musical jingle of a charm bracelet drew his attention to the corner away from the other patrons.

Sitting at the bar dressed in a tiny black dress was a young woman. Her blonde hair was pulled back from her face with combs. Her blue eyes were enhanced with artfully applied makeup, although one side of her face had an intricately drawn tattoo.

She glanced up and met his gaze and he shivered. Her eyes were cold, colder than any he’d ever seen and filled with so much pain and anger that he wondered what had happened to her. Settling uneasily on a stool he caught the bartender’s attention easily.

“What’ll it be son?”

“Whatever you’ve got that’s strong.” He said quietly and tossed a bill on the counter.


Two stiff drinks later he sat staring at the television as a news update on the Mutant Registration Act came on. Swearing under his breath he glanced at the bartender sharply when a drink was set before him.

“From the lady.”

Glancing down the bar Piotr noticed the come-hither smile on the painted woman. With a slight movement of one finger he pushed the drink aside. “Not interested.”

“Few are.”

“Tell her thanks but no thanks.”

The bartender moved away and Piotr turned his attention back to the news. He wondered if the entire world had anything better to do than bitch and moan about the mutants on the planet.

“Earlier today a group of mutants calling themselves the Brotherhood were arrested shortly after an attempt to infiltrate a high security military facility near Washington. Authorities say that they were after a new, experimental weapon with plans to attack Congress…”

“Like anyone would tell the truth.” Piotr drawled into his drink.

“You don’t think they were after the weapon?” Soft, smooth like aged vodka the question drew his attention to the young woman staring at the television.

Piotr shook his head. “No. Not their style.”

“No, no it isn’t?”

“They’re more make humans into mutants then they’ll understand.”

“Exactly. They’re smarter than your average terrorist.”

“You’ve dealt with them before?”

“A few years ago.”

“Stupid freaks should lock ‘em all up.” The bartender grumbled. “Save humans the expense and kill ‘em all. Least way that’s my opinion.”

“We didn’t ask you for it.” The woman snapped angrily. “Don’t you have some drunk to serve?”

Still grumbling under his breath about the whole mutant human issue he moved off to serve another customer.

“Piotr Rasputin.”

“Angel.”

“Please to meet you.” He said shaking her hand and noticing the sound of a charm bracelet.

“So Piotr what brings you out tonight? This isn’t exactly a hotbed of activity for a good lookin’ guy to pick up a girl.”

“Had a bad day. Failed big time.”

Angel nodded her eyes flickering with pain and unshed tears. “Yeah know what that’s about.” The memory of her latest rescue attempt gone wrong swimming within in her mind. The girl had been young, pretty, and now she was dead. Killed by a pimp who would rather kill than loose out on the income another lost soul would provide him.

She’d failed that girl by allowing her death, and nothing not even killing her murder would bring the girl back. She knew that the streets weren’t kind to those who were on them but to have been so close and lose everything scarred her heart.

“I couldn’t help him at all. I tried. We all tried but sometimes you just have to stand back and watch hell unfold.” Piotr muttered sadly.

“I’m sure you did your best. Can’t save a person from themselves. I’ve learnt that lesson the hard way.”

“If only that were true. If only I could believe that.”

“Another round.” Angel waved her glass. “I don’t usually drink this much but you can’t help celebrate failure.”

“Here here.” Piotr tapped her glass with his and down the last of his drink.




“Closing time folks.” The bartender declared. “Don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.”

Rising to their feet Angel giggled softly as she stumbled into Piotr. “You want a ride or something?” She asked holding onto his arm.

“I should get home.” Piotr declared uneasily. “I’ll just call a cab.”

“Nonsense. Come on. As drunk as we are we’re better off stickin’ together. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“You’re too drunk to drive.”

“I have a driver that’s probably waiting for me. He knows the area really well.”

“Perhaps I could see you home before I head for my own rooms.” Piotr muttered helping her out the door. Together they stumbled out the door and into the parking lot where a black sedan waited. A tall, lanky man stood leaning against the fender his arms crossed over his chest.

“Miss Angel. I figured you would need a ride.”

“Hi Jack.”

“Uh and your…”

“He’s a friend. Can you take us to my place by way of a liquor store. I’m not tired and after the past few days I need it.” Angel hiccupped and flushed.

“You sure you need more booze?”

“Yeah.” Angel said. “I can still remember her eyes.”

Jack nodded quickly and opened the door. He waited patiently for the pair to slide into the back seat before closing the door and heading for the nearest liquor store.

Tem minutes later he was standing in line with a bottle of expensive bourbon, and an equally expensive bottle of Vodka in his arms. He’d seen the ghosts and the pain the tall man’s gaze, it mirrored that in his employer’s eyes and he knew that nothing short of drunken oblivion would erase it. At least temporarily.


“Wow this is your place?” Piotr whistled as the car stop in front of an old brownstone style house. He could hear the sound of water running nearby and glanced around. From where he stood he could see the lights of New York shimmering on the indigo ocean.

“You uh wanna nightcap before you go home?” Angel offered up the bottle of Vodka.

“Sure.” Piotr replied. “Never let a beautiful woman drink alone.”

Giggling Angel leaned against him. “Thank you Jack. I’ll call if you’re needed.”

“Perhaps I should wait…”

“Naw. Go home. You’ve been up for nearly twenty four hours and if I really need to go somewhere I’ll call a cab or just stay put. Have a good night.” Angel ordered sternly before giggling drunkenly.

“Night miss.” Jack said before glancing at the tall man standing or rather leaning against Angel in an attempt to stay upright. “Don’t think you’re getting any.” He muttered. “She don’t do this at all and I’ve known her for years and she’s never put out. Something about a vow.”

“I’m not into have sex with a drunken woman.” Piotr ground out, his words only slight slurred. “Night Jack.”

“Night.” Jack watched them weave their way into the house and sighed. Angel lived above it all in the loft and he wondered if they’d survive the stairs. Shaking his head he climbed into the car and headed for home. She’d have his ass in a sling if he stuck around. Besides she could handle herself, she’d been doing it for years.




With her back against the couch and her bare legs stretched out in front of her Angel reached fro the bottle of vodka. “So what do you do?”

“Teach during the day and fight evil at night.” Piotr replied wincing at the burn of the bourbon. “You know help mutant and mankind find peace. Stop the Brotherhood from making things worse.”

Angel nodded. “When do you sleep?”

“Whenever I can. What about you? What do you do?”

“I run a shelter.” Angel replied sadly. “Or rather a few of them. I’m overseeing the birth of one here in New York. So many kids out there have no idea of how the streets work. Desperation, fear, hunger, addiction, abuse all drive them onto the streets. Once there they find that they have two options. You survive by selling something, drugs, sex, stolen goods…or you die. Sometimes they get out, sometimes they don’t.”

“Why do you do it? Why would you risk your money for…”

“Because I was one of them.” Angel replied indifferently picking at the bottle. “I was young when I hit the streets. Spent the first couple of years stealing to survive, sleeping in the places I could fit into. Pretty soon though that wasn’t working, it wasn’t enough. I saw other girls selling their bodies, their souls for a few dollars. By the time I was fifteen I’d become an expert on giving head. Men, women, was all the same to me.”

She glanced at him a hard, distant look in her eyes. “That don’t mean I’m gonna put out for you. I ain’t askin’ nor am I offering.”

“Didn’t even think about it.” Piotr replied softly leaning on the couch next to her. “So how’d you get into doing this? Is this is a labor of love?”

“I’m not sure how I started this. I was in this dive in Canada down to my last ounce of self-respect and half starved. Hadn’t eating in over a week when I offered this guy a quick fuck for twenty bucks. Took me back to his hotel room and the first thing I saw in there was the food he’d left on his table.”

“What happened?”

“He fed me, gave me a place to sleep…and set me up in this big house he had in Selkirk. Within three months there were four more girls just like me living there. Within a year the house was full and I was looking for a way to expand. Found it in this rundown old house that the city was going to demolish. Bought it with the money I’d saved up and spend countless hours working to make it livable.”

“Sounds like you have it made.”

Angel sighed. “Another shot?”

“Sure.”

“Its been hard. I’ve had to learn how to fundraise, how to allow people to come and go without saying anything. I’ve given more time to charities than ten people and I always come out on top. The local Red Cross and Salvation Army always helps out with clothes, food, transportation. I have a friend who’s a doctor who comes in and helps out once or twice a week. I know it looks like I have a lot but really I don’t.”

Piotr ran a finger through her hair and stared at the tattoo. “How many have you saved?”

“I’m not sure. Not all those I approach come with me. Some go home. Some fade away into the darkness and disappear. Right now I’m house just over four hundred boys and girls ranging in age from eight to eighteen. I’ve got one hundred young people that work for me. People like Jack who donate their time to help me out because I pulled them back from the brink.”

“Eight years old?”

“They have to live. There are cities all over the place that have drug houses with girls at that age that are selling sex for their next hit, for their next meal, a roof over their heads. They’re ancient.”

“You want some help?” Piotr whispered softly leaning against her his fingers tangling in her hair.

“You lookin’ for a job?” Angel giggled.

“I’m good at kicking ass. I had a really good teacher.”

“You’d regret it Piotr. You’d see what I see, you’d have to learn to walk the shadows and that’s not something someone should ever do willingly.”

Chuckling Piotr took the offered bottle. “Shadows are only as powerful as you let them be. And I have a really big flashlight.”

Laughing Angel leaned on him before taking another drink. “Here’s to flashlights then!”



The annoying beep of a cell phone woke Piotr who groaned at the pounding in his head. Blinking steadily he realized that it was late morning if the sun’s shadows on the floor were any indication. The second thing he was aware of was that he had a warm, soft body laying on his and he was on the floor.

“Angel? The phone’s ringing.”

“Mmmhmm.” Angel shifted and grabbed the small silver square off the floor by his hip. “Hello?”

“Uh I’m sorry I may have the wrong number. I was looking for Piotr.”

“One moment please.” Angel smothered a yawn and handed the phone to her living pillow. “For you, a woman.”

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?” Jean’s voice held a current of something Piotr didn’t like.

“Why?”

“Look just tell me where you are and I’ll send Scott to get you.” Jean said. “You scared us the way you took off last night.”

Piotr groaned and struggled into a sitting position as Angel climbed unsteadily to her feet and started for the bathroom. He watched as she shed her dress carelessly, tossing it aside easily leaving her in nothing but a black thong and the massive amount of ink from her tattoos.

Frowning at the intricate calligraphy along her shoulders he wondered briefly where he’d seen it before even as he tuned out Jean’s steady rant.

“Piotr where are you?”

“Don’t know. I got here late last night and haven’t checked the address. Why?”

“I’ll send Logan or Scott to pick you up. You missed the debriefing.”

“I’m a big boy I can find my own way home.” Piotr snapped. “It’s not like you care anyway…”

“Look I’m sorry I shouldn’t have snapped at you last night. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t kill that boy. There was nothing you could have done.”

Piotr shifted uneasily as he listened to the sounds of the shower going. “I should have done more than I did.”

“You did all you could. We all did. We couldn’t save him, not from himself.”

“Whatever. I’ll be home soon.” Piotr muttered and hung up. Staring at the small cell he sighed and raked a hand through his hair. The mild hangover was slowly getting worse and he wondered if Angel had any pain killers.

“There’s some extra strength Acemetaphine in the cupboard.” Angel’s voice called through the closed bathroom door.

“Thanks.” Digging out a couple of caplets he took them and stared out the window at the ocean. He doubted that anyone would ever understand just how much it hurt to know that he’d let that boy die.

“You hungry?” Angel asked softly. “Or is your wife anxious for you to get home?”

Piotr glanced at her and shrugged. “I’m not married. She’s a coworker.”

Angel tilted her head slightly. “I can whip up some breakfast if you like. The shower’s all yours.”

“Thanks. Shower might help with the hangover.”



Piotr ran a towel over his hair before leaving the bathroom. Tucking his shift into his jeans he padded in his sock feet to the kitchen and sat down at the table just as Angel set a plateful of food before him.

“Jack said he’d be by to pick you up in forty-five minutes.” Angel said setting down across from him.

Picking at her breakfast she glanced up at the man sitting silently eating. “I uh wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?” Piotr asked.

“Not taking advantage. I made a vow a long time ago and I’ve tried to keep it.”

“I wasn’t looking for sex. Looking for a way to drown my guilt.”

“Did you find it?”

“Working on it.” Piotr replied softly. “I had a good time last night. It was nice to just be able to talk without having to worry about how what I was saying was being analyzed.”

Angel laughed. “Anytime.”




With the car sitting idling in front of Xavier’s Piotr glanced at Angel. “Can I see you again?” Piotr asked.

Angel smiled and pulled out a card. “Call me whenever you’ve got a free evening.”

Piotr took the card and stared at it, “How about tonight?”

“When and where?”

“How about dinner at Emeril’s On the Bay? Say six?”

“I’ll be there.” Angel said as Piotr stepped out of the car. She watched him walk up the steps and disappear inside before she turned to Jack. “Come on old man, we’ve got work to do.”

“You’re the boss. You sure you wanna go after Rickardo by yourself?”

Angel smiled a cold, evil little grin as she played with the chain around her neck. “Let’s just say Greek’s body-broker’s number one on my hit list. Did you find out where he’s at?”

“Yes ma’am. Enforcer’s on his way as well. You’re gonna need him I think.”

“Jack let’s go, I’ve got a dinner date for tonight and I don’t want to be late for it.”




“And where were you all night?”

Piotr turned to smile at the southern accented woman who stood in the doorway. “With a friend.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah…a beautiful blonde with blue eyes and a familiar tattoo.”

“Tattoo?” Rogue asked softly.

Piotr nodded and moved over to poke Rogue in the shoulder. “What’s the initials stand for?”

“What initials?”

“LFAA?”

Rogue flushed before chuckling. “I don’t believe it. Come on you can tell me how you managed to get Angel to spend the night with you.”

Chuckling Piotr let her lead him into the library, he’d been right about the lettering and he wanted to know how Rogue tied into his new ‘friend’.