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World's Best Assassin	By : PatPat Category: Kim Possible > Het- Male/Female > Kim/Ron Views: 6326 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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World’s Best Assassin
III – Svetlana's First Lesson
By Pat Squared

Svetlana wondered what her new life with Vasilii Boiarskii would be like.

She looked out the window of the aircraft. Below were the clouds.

As a child, Svetlana would spend hours in the park with her mother trying to get a glimpse of the angels and saints playing in the heavens.

Svetlana replayed the events of the past week.

Twelve times, she comforted Vasilii. As she did so she realized that behind the brutal legend was the world's loneliest man.

Svetlana wondered what nightmares haunted Vasilii...what experiences destroyed the joy in him. Even when they were sharing their bodies, there was something inside of him that hurt him even as he brought her joy. Svetlana hated the fact that to even in the moment of happiness, he was hurting inside. Even if it cost her everything, she wanted to free him from the curse that eats up his soul like a cancer.

Vasilii was a haunted man who needed someone to be by his side...to let him know that he is a good man.

Just having turned fourteen, Svetlana wondered why Vasilii picked her.

Vasilii Boiarskii was Vasilii Boiarskii. He was a legend in the Eastern European Underworld. Some called him the real life Keyer Soze or the Baltendeusche Lucy Luciano.

While he was not handsome like a movie star, he was handsome enough to attract a shy girl’s attention with a smile.

He could buy all of Russia if he so chose. In public, he could blend into the grey faceless masses. Yet with a curt word or gesture, he could dominate any social setting. Any gold-digger would be proud to be his woman.

Svetlana wondered what made her so special that Vasilii would lift her up from the filthy streets of Moscow and the short drug and alcohol driven life of a prostitute.

Svetlana was attractive enough to get a higher street price, but she was not supermodel material like many other women seeking Boiarskii’s patronage. She was too skinny and unless she started a career as a wet nurse or buy a set of fake boobs would never be on the cover of Playboy Magazine. The lady who whored her out told her that the only reason she was not yet sold was that certified virgins had a higher street price than used goods.

Once her teachers said that she was among the smartest girls they ever seen, but she had not seen the inside of a school room in two years.

She could not give him anything in terms of wealth or connection – Svetlana was just an orphan with no family connections.

Fate just put her in Boiarskii’s arms when he needed someone to just hold him.

Svetlana saw that Boiarskii was driven by the twin demons of duty and conscience. From the calls, she knew that he was not the lone wolf that the other said he was. Boiarskii was more of a scout who silently trailed the herd while the other wolves move into position. Every vor (mafiya godfather) from the old generation claimed to be a spy for the old KGB, but Vasilii was the first spy that she ever saw.

Svetlana already hated Global Justice. For some organization that promised to bring justice to the world, they spent and broke a man who tried to do right in a land were the right thing was so wrong. Where was Global Justice when the terrorists killed her parents? Where was Global Justice when those that ran the orphanges suppliment their incomes by pimping out the girls? They did not care about the small people like her or Vasilii. They only cared about those with wealth and power.

Unlike the fictional English spy James Bond, Vasilii did not have wonderful adventures, but lived a life in the shadows fearing that someone would discover his secrets. He did not poof in and out on some high tech device made in some secret laboratory. He was just a man and fate chose her to be the one to help him.

Boiarskii was a man marked by fate to be more than a man.

Her blond hero could fight with weapons, but the real weapon was his ability to do whatever had to be done. However using the weapon had a price – Boiarskii was hurt, hurt in a way that only on who suffered a great lost could understand. In a way that she could understand.

Boiarskii was a marked man.

Many in and outside of Russia would pay handsomely for the small tidbits of information that Svetlana now processed about Boiarskii and his affairs. However, she could no more betray Vasilii as she could step out of the plane and walk boldly up to the heavens.

Svetlana looked over at the man who changed her life.

Vasilii was traveling in his public role as Gregory Zhukov, a BBC field producer. He was busy, rapidly typing his report into his notebook computer. Svetlana tried to follow along, but the screen was scrolling too fast for her to read the Roman letters

“Uncle Gregory, may I ask what you are typing?”

Svetlana was careful to use and only respond to the name they agreed to use for this trip.

Vasilii smiled, hit a couple keys. Showing the child how to use the scroll wheel, Vasilii handed the computer over.

Svetlana suppressed her anxiety. Such things were not for one like her.

“Take it,” Vasilii reassured her, “It’s yours. You will need it for your classes.”

“Classes?” The last time Svetlana saw the inside of a school room was the day her parents were killed when the Chechens bombed the Metro two years ago.

“Yes, Svetlana. In our world, there are some who live on muscle, wealth, or family connections. However, if fate turns against them, they will fall without a means to reclaim their status. Knowledge, skill, and work is what matters. Fate can sting you, but it can not take away what is inside.”

Vasilii pointed to her head and her heart.

“Svetlana, it was your heart that bound me to you.” Vasilii whispered.

“Sex is of the loins. It rises and fades quickly. The heart is what remains when loins fade. The heart is wonderful. Without it no one is alive. Without someone to share it with, life is merely consuming and fighting until we die. I wasted my life not a man but a beast. I am only sorry that I am not man enough to do right by you.”

Svetlana noted the haunted look in Vasilii’s eyes. The lost was something of the heart, no the soul. She wanted to hold him, to let Vasilii know that he had someone willing to share his heart.
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World's Best Assassin