The ownership of all characters related to and involving the novels of The Vampire Academy and Bloodlines Series remain the sole property of Richelle Mead, the Penguin Group and any affiliates.

No copyrights have been infringed on maliciously.

A/n: This FF is based on Rose's Blood Promise recount of caring for Dimitri when he's slightly injured during the field-testing but told from his POV. I still don't know if this is an actual memory or some pain-induced delirium from her attack just before she's delivered to Olena Belikova, but it seemed like a perfect opportunity for some Romitri romangst.

I've split the one-shot into two parts, because as normal, I can't write anything short.

P.S. I'm exercising my right of Poetic Licence here to the fullest extent.

P.P.S. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews for Bathtub Blackmail…it was a really fun chapter to write.

~ The Temptation of Touch ~

~ Part One ~

"What did you think about Castile's overall performance, Dimitri?"

Glancing over at Emil as I bent to retrieve the last of the free weights littering the workout mat, I carried them over to him at the far end of the gym. Wiping the sweat off my brow with the shoulder of my dark grey t-shirt, I thought through my reply.

"Good," I replied evenly as I started stacking the weights on the rack. "He was alert, focused and methodical. There wasn't much to fault in his technique, although his footwork needs a little improving."

Aligning the weights until they sat perfectly on their safety notches, I completed my evaluation.

"I was impressed with the sneak attack and that his accuracy and force was enough to make me loosen my grip on the Conti girl with only one hit. He's definitely one of the best in the class…better than Reyes certainly and a hundred times better than Aylesworth."

Shaking my head in frustrated disappointment, I recalled the botched job that Aylesworth had made of protecting his Moroi in the hallway, wondering if he would ever learn the difference between protecting and participating.

He would have more than enough opportunity to prove it over the next six weeks…all the novices would, but so far, his field-experience against us had started out on the back foot.

Designed to specifically test the novice's on what their guardianship duties would prepare them for should they pass their final trials and graduate, a series of surprise attacks on them and Moroi they had been assigned to protect would be carried out during the period. It also provided us with the opportunity to test the students we trained – something we had capitalized on earlier.

Without prior warning, Emil and I – tasked with the first of the guardian-led assaults – had taken both Shane Reyes and Ryan Aylesworth by surprise as we pounced in the crowded hallway between classes. Ryan, more concerned with jeering from the side-line, had been woefully unprepared and I had finished him off with ease before turning on Shane.

Eddie Castile, having noticed the fracas, joined in at once; leaving Rose to watch over both of their charges for any more surprise attackers. It had only been the quick-thinking initiative he had taken in teaming up with Shane that had eventually eliminated us and the threat we posed, but none of us had really expected anything less of him.

Sniggering under his breath, though there was no real amusement to it as he agreed with my assessment, Emil grumbled about Ryan. "He's not my student, but if he, was I would be tearing strips off of him. Celeste is probably going to do worse to him when she has him alone, but that's between them."

Grimacing as he straightened, I noticed his left arm lock into place. He covered the twinge well as he was never one to complain, but I knew from the stiff set of his shoulders that he was in some pain from receiving blows during our earlier attack.

I couldn't say I blamed him; my own body ached in ways that I hadn't expected to feel against the novices, but that was only further proof that we had been headed in the right direction with their instruction. If our training paid off, by the time we were at the end of the six weeks, we would all be a little worse for wear.

"Your girl did okay," he continued, grabbing the ends of the towel around his neck as he mulled over the performance of my student and rotated the kinks out of his neck. "Although she looked like she was just waiting for any opportunity to leap in. I was kind of surprised really that she actually listened to Castile and stayed put; he's obviously a good influence on her."

Nodding to him impartially, I smiled to myself as I turned away to replace the last of the weights. Knowing that during the attack I would have to apply all of my concentration to the task at hand – namely the capture of the Moroi and the dispatching of the novices – I had been unable to fully dedicate myself to it…not because it was difficult, but because Rose had been so close to the skirmish.

Having watched her peripherally during the times when I was able to, I had to agree with Emil's assessment. She had looked as though she would have given anything to join the fray, but for once, she had the good sense to know that leaving both Christian and Lissa exposed to any potential attacks would have been disastrous for both her and Eddie…and good sense with Rose, was not always guaranteed.

Feeling a sense of possessive pride and triumph in the personal growth that Rose had undergone in the months since her return to the Academy, I listened carefully to Emil and he continued in his evaluation of her; paying attention to anything that he might construe as something I should need to be concerned about or clear up.

Neither Rose nor I needed complications right now, especially ones that could potentially endanger her graduation.

"Although to be honest, I have a feeling that if Rose was facing Stan instead of us; Eddie's words would have meant less than nothing to her. Hell, she would probably abandon Vasilisa if given the chance for some pay back."

Chuckling to himself in real amusement this time, he looked over at me with curiously assessing eyes, as if wondering how it was exactly that I had managed to deal with her for almost six months without going pulling out all my hair or becoming homicidal.

Emil was a year younger than I, but had been at St Vladimir's almost all his life. Reassigned back here after graduating by the Council as an instructor, he had known the current crop of novices all too well…including Rose. That was, until she had gone on the run with Lissa.

With the majority of my time during the first year I had spent at the Academy focused on spearheading the manhunt for the missing Dragomir Princess and her dhampir cohort, I had paid little attention to the latter as talk amongst the students and the instructors had swirled around me regarding her involvement and reckless behaviour…that had been an error I had only learnt of later.

I should have paid more attention to her as the mastermind, not merely the accomplice.

Reading her file and wondering why with the delinquency record she held, that the head of the institution had not simply removed her all together from the Academy, the still unknown Rosemarie Hathaway had not concerned me greatly.

Underestimating her abilities and viewing her as nothing more than a trouble maker had been my first mistake, but certainly not my last as she proved herself a more than challenging opponent than I could have ever expected.

Reluctantly agreeing to mentor her once I had tracked them down to Portland and delivered them back to the Academy, I had known instantly that I was unwilling to lose the raw potential practically exploding from the defiant girl who had done nothing but spit insults at me since the moment we had met.

Finding something unique and undeniably compelling about her, in spite of her dark beauty and allure, it wasn't until after the knowledge of my mentorship had been made public within the guardian fraternity that I had learnt that those in the know had viewed me with pitying eyes.

They had known what I had not.

"I don't know how you handle her, Dimitri…really, I don't," Emil carried on as he used the ends of the towel he clutched to dab at the beads of perspiration running down his temple.

"If Kirova had given her to me, I would have asked to be reassigned to a desk job rather than have to deal with her. You got the raw end of that deal, brother, without even knowing it."

Turning his back to me, Emil headed to his gym bag and for that, I was glad. The expression on my face, despite having been taught to conceal my emotions at all times, would have easily given away just how I felt about his less than flattering judgement of a girl he barely knew…of a girl that none of them really knew.

His appraisal wasn't entirely inaccurate, and to that, I had to grudgingly concede, but if I was able to convince my head that his words made logical sense and were undeniably the truth, my heart certainly wasn't interested in listening.

The general opinion of Rose's behaviour and attitude among the guardian sect within the academy was no different now than it had been upon her return, despite the obstacle's she had overcome and the accomplishments she had achieved…despite everything she had survived.

They still viewed her as a rebellious teenager who was too reckless to teach and too disobedient to learn, but what they failed to take into account was the perseverance and commitment she had put forward in order to catch up on two years away.

It was an unfair opinion and one that I wanted very much to argue against, but for as much as I could defend her without arousing suspicion, I knew that it would never be enough.

I couldn't tell them that her dedication and bravery were unparalleled for one so young. I couldn't explain to them that she was unselfishly loyal and that she was prepared to sacrifice not only her life, but her happiness in order to protect and provide for those she loved.

I couldn't express to them the unequalled pride I felt for her… and I could certainly never freely express to them how much I loved her.

When I had asked what she wanted for her birthday yesterday, it had been a question I should have never voiced. I had instinctively known what she wanted as it was what we both wanted all the time…each other, but neither of us was free for that.

We had made our choice; committed ourselves to protecting those who could not protect themselves and bound our honour to that purpose, but in the weeks since the incident in Spokane, I had felt myself weakening.

Surrendering towards the possibility of forsaking that honour-bound oath in favour of simply being able to openly acknowledge our love had never before felt as tempting. To simply be allowed to experience it in ways that others took for granted, never more appealing

That weakening had made the guilt I already carried spiral dangerously close to a conflict that I knew I would never be able to win and so, for now, I would simply continue to fight against it.

"I mean," Emil droned on, completely oblivious to the train of my thoughts or the dangerous track they were on. "The way she behaved towards Alberta over having Ozera to guard instead of Vasilisa was just classic Rose. You should have seen the tantrums she used to throw when she was younger."

Bending to pick up the bag, Emil slung it over his shoulder before shaking his head. "I don't envy any man who thinks he can bring that one to heel. I thought you had at least managed to straighten her out a little bit, but that outburst just proved that she can't be taught and that she'll never learn."

Narrowing my eyes dangerously as he once again allowed his own ignorance of the situation and the person to colour his outlook, I exerted ruthless self-restraint over myself before the hold on my tongue grew too feeble to control and the unflinching defence of Rose became an awareness that I could not dispute.

"Anyway, I was impressed by Castile, too," Emil finished, as he turned back towards me and met the smoothly neutral expression that would have fooled anyone. "You and Alberta made the right choice in assigning him to the Princess for the field-experience, slightly suicidal maybe, considering how badly Hathaway reacted to it, but still a good decision."

The reminder of that was not welcome and suddenly made all my defending seem frustratingly pointless. In the days leading up to the official assignments, it had been thought amongst most, guardians included, that Rose would be paired with Lissa.

It had seemed the obvious choice considering that the bond between them gave Rose a unique advantage that none of the other novices could claim, but with the asset that it provided also came the liability…and any liability in our line of work was too risky to take, no matter how slight.

If she relied on the bond too heavily; if she didn't listen or heed the instincts that were already so prevalent to her character in order to protect because it was a given that she would never need to, she could not fulfil her true purpose.

I also knew that if anything happened to Lissa on her watch, she would never forgive herself and the possibility of that crushing her spirit and killing her confidence was too painful to think of.

Alberta had not initially agreed with my thoughts on the matter, but it had taken very little to convince her otherwise once I had suggested Eddie as Rose's replacement. They were well-suited and honestly, aside from either myself or Rose, I didn't think that there would be anyone else that I trusted to do the job.

He wouldn't have the benefit of knowing exactly what was going through Lissa's mind, but he was committed, well-mannered, grave and compassionate. Better guardians had been made of less.

I had known that Rose would react badly, and had been prepared for it, but I had to agree a little with Emil on just how much of an over-reaction had actually come through. In fact, if I had known just how violently a reaction it would be, I might not have made the suggestion at all.

The manifestation of her outrage had been almost visceral; her animal instincts of savage aggression and protectiveness almost frothing to a maddening rage.

Alberta – unflappable, dependable, calm-under-pressure – Alberta, had been so dumbfounded by the scathing contempt she had faced from a student that until then, she had been mostly fond of, that she had been unable to do little more than scramble to recover herself. Eventually restoring her poise, she attempted to set Rose straight, but the fuming Miss Hathaway had refused to listen to reason.

Snapping at her had been a last resort; one that I had hated to employ, but one that had been driven entirely by my own alarm. I had seen Rose irate, inconsolable, guilty and afraid, but I had never seen her so close to the edge of the temper that was lethally flammable on a good day.

Deeply concerned for her emotional well-being before the impassioned outburst, I had been afraid that it had triggered something that had already been bubbling too close to the surface. Something that was merely waiting for the right catalyst to explode.

The psychological toll of losing Mason…of being captured and tormented for days before avenging his death by killing those who had so cold-bloodedly murdered him, had affected her in ways that I didn't think even Rose realised yet.

It was obvious to those who knew her…to those who actually took the time to look past the bravado and the mouthy attitude to the true person beneath it all that knew this.

She and the others had refused counselling after their return, and none of us has pushed, but now, I didn't know if that had been the wisest decision. She would have treated it with scorn, that much was obvious, but talking about it to someone with an unbiased opinion might not have been a bad idea.

Slapping me lightly on my shoulder with a jolt I had not expected, Emil unknowingly broke me from my dark reverie. Blinking, I was surprised to see that he was standing almost on top of me. Having approached when my mind was fixated on the past that I could not change, he looked at me quizzically.

"You okay, Dimitri? You seem a million miles away."

Raking my hands through my sweat-dampened hair, I loosened the band and retied it, covering my preoccupation with something mundane in the hopes that he would not find my lack of concentration strange. For someone who was normally obsessively controlled and detached, my lack of concentration would be odd to anyone who knew me.

"I'm fine, Emil. Just thinking about the next attack. Stan will probably need some help co-ordinating beforehand. Feel up to another round?"

Deflecting his thoughts away from my strange behaviour by providing him with another opportunity to show up his students, his eyes lit up. In this, he actually reminded me of Ryan. It was probably best that Celeste was his mentor. "Sounds good." Turning on his heel, he headed to the exit, suddenly excited by the prospect I had just suggested.

Calling out to him as he made for the swinging doors, I asked him to turn off the main lights.

"Sure thing, brother. See you later." He replied as the doors closed on him.

Grateful to be alone so that I could at least attempt to sort out the snarl of my thoughts and emotions without interruption, I laced my fingers at my nape and tipped my head back. Closing my eyes to the problems that I wished I could solve as easily as I cut off my sight, I heard Emil flicking switches on the outside.

Sensing the change in light as dimness surrounded me, I suddenly wished that there was someone that I could talk to. Laid back when not on duty, Emil was good company for the most part and easy to talk to, but I knew that I couldn't talk to him about my problems. There was only one that I could talk to and she was the cause of those troubles.

Classified as a loner from the moment I had arrived, most had left me alone to my own devices from the first day. There had been a few that had attempted to draw me out of my detachment; Emil being one of them, but I had continued to resist until even the most dogged had given up.

I knew that none of them viewed me as standoffish, merely isolated and withdrawn.

It was Rose who had changed that. She had pulled me – well, dragged really – out of my self-imposed emotional exile…the exile I had stupidly punished myself with after Ivan's death.

She had forced me to feel, to live and to seek things that I would never had sought before. I still preferred the solitude of my own company if I could not be with her, but that was more the fault of my own nature than anything else.

There had been so many times when I had thought that it was a curse to feel so strongly for another that everything hinged on them, but I knew that loving her would never be anything other than a blessing, even if we could never be together. I would rather have experienced it and felt the pain that came with it rather than never to have experienced it at all.

What I would have had with Tasha, if I had foolishly gone through with the plan that had been created by my own fear of vulnerability and exposure, would have been a gross caricature of that love…of the feeling of belonging to another.

I had often accused Rose of deluding herself as her illogical brain reasoned to her advantage rather than the one that made the most sense, but I had been no better.

Arching my neck against my fingers, I manipulated the tight muscles and headed towards the right of the gym, intending to pick up my own bag before heading out, but the creaking hinges of the swinging doors caught at my attention.

Turning towards them, but leaning back against the darkened wall, I expected to find Emil enter, having forgotten something, but it wasn't him…it was the one person I wanted the most in the world and the one person who posed the greatest threat to me.

Rose was alone as she walked into the gym…not a good sign. During the coming weeks, she was never meant to leave Christian's side, with the exception of the Sundays the novices would have off and he was very clearly not with her.

Taking the dereliction of the duty towards the Moroi she had not wanted immediately as a bad sign, I almost asked straight away where he was, but something stopped me. I was so rarely able to simply look at her that I didn't want the moment ruined.

Studying her closely during an unguarded moment as her preoccupied mind had yet to know that I was even here; a moment in which I was allowed to watch over her without the fear of others watching me, I felt my passion for her – the passion I kept so tightly leashed it often felt as though it would snap me in two – surge through and shatter the barriers I could never rebuild quickly enough around her.

For most, her beauty was skin deep and superficial; the spell of her exotic looks instantly broken as she opened her mouth, but for me, the pure radiance of her energy, her strength, her passion, her drive, her devotion and yes, her spunk, only added and never detracted.

Dressed relatively conservatively as part of the stricter dress-code imposed on novices during the field-experience, Rose was entirely in black today. Buttoned shirt tucked neatly – or as neatly for her as was possible – into black jeans over low-heeled boots gave her an overall business-like air.

Sighing with a disgruntled huff…one that I was all too familiar with, I realised she was looking for something. Not categorized as messy, merely disorganized, Rose was inclined to leave personal items all over – shoes, socks, shirts. She was forever looking for at least one item of clothing she had mislaid and this didn't seem to be an exception.

"Where the hell is the damn thing…?" Almost growling beneath her breath, Rose's frustration at the missing item was almost comical as her hands went to her hips and her head shook in aggravation.

Turning her back towards me, her nape – exposed by the tight, high bun she had restrained her hair in – was bare, but not bare enough for someone of her age. The pair of tattoos that now adorned it was a macabre, all too real reminder of the world she lived in…the world she had been exposed to before her she should have been.

The Molnija should have been representations of her dedication to duty…to life and her commitment to defend them both, but in this instance, they were merely representations that she had killed to survive and to protect.

I had told her once, during a time in which my inhibitions had been destroyed by a lust charm, that one day she would have more than I did…that day was fast approaching and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

One day, she would be the best.

The images evoked of that time were disturbing to recall. The feeling of helpless terror as we waited to learn where the others were being held, of the time it took to get them…of not knowing if she was alive or dead when we did, should have passed.

I could see her, I knew she was safe and if I dared, I could reach out and touch her, but it was still almost as crippling to remember it now as it had been to live through it then.

It made me want to reach out to her…to touch her cheek, feel her hair sliding between my fingers, feel her breath on my lips, but I knew that I could not risk it. The fear was irrational, but the touching would be disastrous, for both of us.

Since my confession in the store room only a few feet away from where we both now stood, the shift in our relationship had been subtle; known only to us really, but it was nevertheless there. Before, it had been an unspoken feeling, but once it had been voiced, there was now no taking it back.

Kissing her there had been a mistake. I had felt that even as I closed the distance between us, but I couldn't have stopped it any more than I could the motion of my heart.

We had agreed to stay away from each since then. Obviously, during training that was impossible, but on every other occasion, we had tacitly vowed to keep to that agreement. For the most part, it had worked, but I had to wonder just how long that would last.

Knowing that the longer she remained here, the greater her chance of being caught away from Christian would become, I made myself known with a murmuring comment quietly laced with amusement.

"What have you lost now, Rose? And where is Christian?" I knew that there were no attacks planned right away – which was only pure luck on Rose's part – but she still shouldn't be away from him for any great length of time.

Swinging around quickly with a lithe grace and speed that seemed inherently a part of her; a part that had only intensified as her muscles became stronger and her ease of movement became almost fluid through training, Rose's startled gaze widened as she saw me in the dimmer light.

The surge of awareness and delight, something that she could never quite hide from the depths of her liquid brown eyes when seeing me, momentarily flared to life.

It was quickly overshadowed by irritation with herself for not being observant of my presence as soon as she entered the room. She knew how important it was for guardians to be alert at all times.

"I haven't lost anything, comrade," was her almost haughty answer as she recovered herself quickly and controlled her facial expression with a speed that would have made my old instructors proud. "I've merely…misplaced something, and Christian is with Lissa and Eddie. He's fine."

Pushing away from the wall, I approached her slowly, keeping my hands safely in the pockets of my black sweats as I felt the draw of her pull me inexorably closer.

"Regardless of whom he's with or why he's with them, you shouldn't be away from him and you know that. What is so important that you abandoned your Moroi the first chance you got? What did you misplace this time,as you put it?"

Smirking though I should have been scolding, I tilted my head to the side in silent query as to what it was she had lost. The strands of hair I was never able to fully restrain fell over my cheek as it did so. My best guess was a sock, but this was Rose, so really, it could have been anything.

"A sock…again," was her almost sheepish reply as she began to wander over towards me; drawn to me it seemed, as I was drawn to her.

It was almost unconscious for us, but as the air between closed in around us, it seemed to sizzle and crackle with undisguised tension and attraction. She had promised to behave though, and I could see the visible effort she made, just as I could feel the same effort within me.

"I have ten pairs and not a single set match, Dimitri," Rose muttered. "And I didn't abandon Christian, so stop trying to make me feel guilty. I might not have wanted him; which you knew damn well, but he's mine for the next six weeks so I'm not about to take a chance with him."

I knew there was no way that she would ever learn that it had been my insistence that had paired her with Christian and I would certainly never tell her, but something about the dangerous spark in her eyes told me she somehow knew already.

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, but this is important, Rose. All the effort and hard work you've put in over the past few months to catch up and prove that you belong here could be all for nothing if you receive unfavourable marks during the field-experience. Maybe if you didn't leave your socks lying all over the place, they wouldn't go wandering off. Socks have a habit of doing that, you know." I ridiculed gently with dry humour.

My own were neatly bundled in a draw; not a single pair mismatched. Yeva Belikova had not been an understanding woman when it came to the loss of clothing, so I had learnt from a very early age to never risk her wrath in that department.

Scrunching up her nose at my teasing, she scowled at me good-naturedly. "I know that; I'm only here for a minute or two and how would you know about disappearing socks anyway? You probably have them organized in chronological order – oldest to newest and then a subsection within each year from oldest to newest. Or am I wrong? Is it done on thread count instead?"

Her intent had been to ridicule me as I had done her, but I didn't think she knew just how close she had come to knowing exactly how my sock draw was organised.

Closing the distance between us, knowing it was perilous to do so but unable to maintain complete detachment when she was anywhere near me, I bent at the waist until our eyes were level.

Quirking a brow as she immediately froze and the brown rings of her irises restricted to thin circles around her dilating pupils, I felt a sensation of satisfaction at her reaction. I should have smothered it as soon as it surfaced, but I was hungry enough to stop short of castigating myself as I countered her assumption with mock sternness.

"My socks are my own business, Miss Hathaway, and I'll thank you to remember that."

Expecting a pithy comeback and almost anticipating the repartee that seemed to come so naturally between us, what I got instead was a reaction that I had not expected.