In The Real World, You Can Make

"well, You've Finally Got A License To Kill. It's About Time." I Turned And Met The Amused Eyes Of Christian Ozera, A Onetime Annoyance Who'd Become A Good Friend. So Good, In Fact, That In My Joyous Zeal, I Reached Out And Hugged Him - Something He Clearly Didn't Expect. I Was Surprising Everyone Today. "whoa, Whoa," He Said Backing Up, Flushing. "it Figures. You're The Only Girl Who'd Get All Emotional About The Thought Of Killing. I Don't Even Want To Think About What Goes On When You And Ivashkov Are Alone."

None Of The Bravado He Usually Showed Was There. I Guess There Was "usually" And Then There Was Being Held In The Grip Of A Really Ripped, Really Tall, And Really Pissed Off Russian Guy.

I Know I’m Not Supposed To Say This, But I Love You.

In This One Terrified Moment, My Mind Couldn’t Focus On Any Of It. “i’ve Forgotten Everything.” “no, You Haven’t.” His Voice In The Darkness Was Calm And Reassuring. He Smoothed Back My Hair And Pressed One Of Those Half Kisses To My Forehead. “just Relax And Focus." “his Reasonable Words Centered Me And Allowed The Gears Of Logic That Ran My Life To Take Over Again.

If You'd Teach Me To Swear In Russian, I Might Have A New Appreciation For It