The snow fell loftily from the dark frame of night, coating the industrial roof of the headquarters and the Boston landscape. I sat on a dusted off radiator box, the cold biting at my bare arms and seeping through my jeans as I stared out at the glowing skyscrapers. The cold was nothing. I'd long since gone numb, inside and out, ignoring the wind while it played with my dark tangles of hair. It was the first snowfall of the year. The November air was the embodiment of an early winter, and I knew I must have looked idiotic taking my pity party outside in the upper atmosphere without a coat. I needed peace and quiet, though- even if it came at the price of frostbite.

It had been three weeks since Victor was caught. We'd worked on other cases since then, but they always turned out to be nothing outstanding or noteworthy. Honestly, most of the homicides were after dealing with Victor, the renowned serial killer renewing his nickname, "The Surgeon". News had exploded after his capture. I, however, kept out of the limelight, only happening to catch one of the local headlines when I passed a newsstand along the city. In bold black-and-white lettering, Victor was framed on the front page, his picture underlying a rapting title. I was sickened by it. It was like they were glorifying him. While the media continued to pander to their viewers and amp up the horror of his killing spree, I was in the background doodling a villiainous, Rocky-and-Bullwinkle mustache on his mugshot in sharpie.

Still, even incarcerated, he remained center-stage to a good portion of my problems. While I didn't have any spirit dreams or hauntings from his creepy, fortune-teller brother, I rarely got sleep. I was afraid to close my eyes. It might have been childish, but the nightmares never ended. I was afraid to be swallowed by the dark.

Shadow-kissed. That's what Robert had called me. Maybe that's what was bothering me. Maybe that's what was making it a bitch to get some shut-eye.

Now though, I had a whole new reason to pace my apartment alone at 4 in the morning while in a threesome with Ben&Jerry. It was the same reason that had driven me up to the roof, seeking- needing- escape. Victor was going back to trial in May. On some level, that should have relieved me. He was going to be locked up again, maybe 20,000 leagues under the sea or in a remote, chained box abandoned in the Sahara. It also meant I had to see him again, though. It meant I had to face a court and jury for a second time and convict the man that continually tried to kill me while he smirked dauntingly, center-stage. I didn't know if I could do that. I closed my eyes and exhaled, wrapping my arms around myself.

A few minutes later, I heard the door to the roof open. I looked over my shoulder in surprise. I was even more startled to see my visitor was Dimitri. Well, maybe I shouldn't have been too surprised. He'd made it clear that no matter what, he'd watch out for me, like some awesome knight in shining armor or a guardian from a children's book. He'd make a killer addition to King Arthur's court. I turned back, unsure how to take his presence yet. His boots crunched in the snow as he walked over to where I was sitting.

Not long after, warmth flooded over me as he draped his duster over my shoulders. I hadn't realized how thick the fabric was before, or how his scent clung to it. That last part made me appreciate it ten times more. I'd always loved how he smelled, like pine and aftershave. It was comforting and made my shoulders slack in relaxation as he sat down next to me. "You must be freezing," he remarked.

"It could be worse." That comment was reserved solely for mother nature. I couldn't apply it much to my life. It liked to be in shambles a good portion of the time. I craned my neck back, looking at the sky. "Besides, the stars are out."

He had no immediate reply for that. We sat in comfortable silence, letting the snow fall around us. I dared a peek at him from the corner of my eye. He was stargazing alongside me, his face thoughtful. I couldn't help but admire him at the same time. He had his hair down for once, the silken strands framing his face and deep, brown eyes. I turned my gaze back up to the stars. Somehow, they didn't look so bright after studying Dimitri's awe-striking features. "How did you know I was up here?" I asked.

"I followed you from the conference room."

"Huh." I hadn't even realized he was around to see that. Alberta had pulled me aside to tell me the news about Victor, wanting some fraction of privacy. Needless to say, I hadn't taken the news well regardless. I'd all but slammed the door behind me when I left, ignoring the looks of my coworkers as I briskly walked out of my department. "I'm guessing you saw the scene I made, then?"

"It wasn't a scene. Hardly anyone noticed. I saw you because I was watching you." While warmth bubbled up inside me again, I refused to outwardly react or get worked up at that. He gave me a sideways look. "What happened in there?" he asked after several moments.

I told him. There was something comforting about Dimitri that made it easy to talk to. I spilled the news about Victor's trial, my upcoming testimony, and my current anxieties. I could see some of his old reflexes tense up when I admitted my fears at being in the same, confined room as my almost-killer again. "Victor won't hurt you," Dimitri said matter-of-factly. The fire in eyes made the stars look like nothing. "I won't let him."

A flicker of a smile came to my face at that. "Gonna be my knight in shining armor, Comrade?"

"If that's what it takes."

I shook my head and sighed. "Sorry, but I prefer the duster over chainmail. Besides, it's not just Victor that's bothering me. His brother isn't helping soothe my conscious, either." Dimitri gave me another look. He didn't know where Robert pieced into this. I didn't blame him. I hadn't told anyone about my side stop to a mental asylum, figuring that kind of introduction couldn't be left alone without a follow-up explanation. With my usual barriers down, I opened up again and told him about my visit to see the Dashkov sibling weeks ago, and what the wacko had said. He frowned at this, but didn't negate my decision to go. For the most part, he looked upset at what Robert had told me and how deeply it had been bothering me.

"You realize none of that's true, Rose."

"Yeah, it's crazy, I know. I just can't get it out of my head." I tugged the coat around me tighter. "The whole death thing isn't comforting to begin with, but I've had a bad feeling ever since then."

"What kind of feeling?"

My eyes were on the stars again. Up on the high ledge of the roof, it was easy to make out constellations and the dots usually blotted out by the city smog. Mentioning my uneasiness had caused it stir again and I could feel the pit in my stomach grow. It gnawed at me. While on some level my head was telling me the biggest calamity and doomsday of my life was over, my instincts were screaming a different story. Something like I'd won the battle, but not the war.

This was just the quiet before the storm. The wind stirred between Dimitri and I as I looked at him, a million thoughts on my mind. "Like Victor's only the beginning."

The sequel will be a new story titled Hathaway&Dragomir: White Knight. Expect it after the New Year, and consider this an early Christmas gift. Many thanks to all of you.