#krxsny

The train rattled along, Paris-bound, filled mostly with soldiers and diplomats en-route to the West. Gleb closed the compartment door for privacy. He swore the train rocked under his feet. Once the latch clicked, he turned to face the only other occupant of his train car. They’d spoken little today. When Liesel told him yesterday that Gorlinsky had assigned her to pose as his wife, not for Gleb’s comfort, but to spy on him and ensure that he killed the Romanov impostor. She insisted she wouldn’t turn him in. He trusted her. But, still, it hurt to look at her and know that, until the mission was complete, her paperwork all said Elisabeth Andreievna Vaganov. He looked at her before sitting on the bench beside her. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours across from her, pretending to read and sleep. Gently, he touched her knee.

“I’ve thought about it,” he told her, “and I’ve decided that I will not throw away years of trust because Gorlinsky is playing games. You deserve better. But I’ve also been thinking… If we are to carry out this mission - at least until we have a plan in Paris - we can’t go on fighting like this. We’re supposed to be newlyweds.”

He smiled a little.It hurt to remember that this would only be pretend, but Gleb knew he had no one but himself to blame. Liesel’s interests had seemed... elsewhere. He’d been lonely. He’d tried to befriend Anya, the little street-sweeper, and if his acts of friendship seemed to be more, and if that was why Liesel seemed so hurt-

Of course that wasn’t it. Her interests were elsewhere, even if his were not. Anya was a friend - an innocent girl in need of protection. Liesel was the woman he’d loved in silence for years; and she had risked all to be here with him. If she didn’t know he loved her for it - for all of it - or if she knew and wished not to acknowledge.... Well, then. He shut his eyes. 

He pushes off the wall with a grin when he spots a familiar head - well, in truth, all the heads here are familiar. Here an officer who’s wallet he’d nicked just the week before and there someone who’s had a string of bad luck with his papers - suits him right for being an asshole. Ok, so maybe he’s a little bit smug that in spite of all of it he’s a free man and not on a train to Siberia.  Though, he supposes - Siberia might be reserved for intellectuals. He wouldn’t know, now would he? After all, he doesn’t work here, in this building with its offices full of people who’s whole jobs involve ‘keeping the peace’ - thinly veiled for ‘disappear any undesirables on the street as quickly and quietly as possible.’ Still - a client is a client, hypocrite or not.

Morning did, indeed, find them in bed together. As gray light slipped into the windows, Gleb rolled his head to the side to see Liesel, pale and warm and peaceful, clinging to his chest as she slept. He watched her for a few minutes more before waking her with a gentle hand in her hair and soft kisses to her forehead and cheeks, until she awoke and he could kiss her on the mouth. She was warm and tasted like sleep. For a moment, a blissful, sweet moment, he thought they could stay in bed like this all day and that he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms.

But it was a work day. 

They dressed with frenzied efficiency and agreed to take separate entrances to spare her the prying eyes. But once they were at work, Gleb’s eyes sought her wherever he went. As he read the week’s itinerary to the office, his eyes made contact with hers and, for a moment, he forgot how words worked. He couldn’t wrap his mouth around a simple sentence. She’d been the only one bold enough to correct him, but her cheeks flamed scarlet when he thanked her. He could feel heat rising on the back of his neck. If the whole office didn’t already know... Well, Gleb wasn’t given to believe in miracles.

The day passed monotonously enough. Reports to fill; reports to read. Meetings and documents to sign. Gleb kept finding excuses to slip out of his office, if only to pass her desk and say hello. He did not want to only say hello. He wanted to order her into his office and lock the door, pick up where they had left off. He wanted to call it a day and walk with her along the Neva to talk about their future. He wanted to get down on one knee and ask her to be his wife, everything else be damned.

Mostly, he wanted to ask her to dinner. 

He called her into his office around tea time and she walked in with a tray. Gleb swallowed. He thought it didn’t matter how much tea he drank, he wouldn’t be able to quench this particular thirst until he’d asked Liesel out for a proper date.

But of course, each time they started to talk, the door opened and another lieutenant, captain, major, popped their head in to say something. Finally, after the fifth interruption, Gleb crossed the room and locked the door. He braced against it, looking at Liesel for breathless moment. He slicked back his hair. 

Gleb: I did. Excellent work, Lieutenant.

Luka: Thanks, Dad.

Liesel: Did you just call General Vaganov "Dad"?

Luka: What? No, I didn't. I said, "thanks, man."

Gleb: Do you see me as a father figure, Mikhailov?

Luka: NO! If anything, I see you as a BOTHER figure because you're alwayws BOTHERING me!

This was not supposed to happen like this. Not so soon. She was new to work, not yet assigned an officer to assist so she floated around the building still learning the ropes of what was what and whom was who. Which brought her to this office with paperwork to drop off and pick up from a specific place. So doing as was ordered she placed the new folder of information on the unknown desk and picked up the one set aside, except there was one thing a little confusing. A slip of paper with handwriting scrawled across in what appeared to be a speech from her skimming through. Now came the confusion in whether or not she was supposed to take this with her since it wasn’t in the appropriate folder and instead tossed haphazardly without thought.

Debating on what to do she lingered in the office taking the time to fully read through the paper and felt her stomach curl. It was awful. Awful in the sense of the formality and professionalism and stark coldness that seemed to rivalthe freezing temperatures outside. ❛Whomever wrote this needs much more help.❜ She sighed to herself as her head shook then as she turned around did she hear the voice behind her causing the young woman to jump from the surprise and drop her outgoing stack of papers.

❛Ya ne eta imel v vidu. Prasti menya!❜ Immediately she was on the ground, not daring to look up to see exactly who it was yet and instead focused on gathering up the scattered papers she had dropped in her fright. A part of her was already lamenting the job loss having figured this for sure meant that she’d be fired after only a few weeks of working there. Jobs were hard to come by and her father’s work was barely scraping them by as it was. Still, she knew she’d have to face the music of her careless words so with the papers stuffed haphazardly into her arms she finally forced herself to look up to him while still sitting on the ground trembling all the while.

This was why Gleb needed a secretary. He’d spent much of the morning, chasing a dark haired would-be-thief out of his office. He’d confiscated a stolen watch from her while on patrol and she kept trying to come into his office to take it back, as if he hadn’t already written his report and given the bauble to his superiors! He had just finished filing a report against her for breaking into his office and now, she was back, rifling through his papers. Gleb still hadn’t finished his speech for tomorrow and now he was going to have to take it home, nor if he had to write another report. But then the thief apologized, clearly frightened and Gleb recognized that voice. It was one of the new secretaries from downstairs.

Damn.

He crouched beside her.

“At ease, comrade,” he said, voice suddenly gentle. “I thought you were someone else. But it’s Elisabeth, isn’t it? I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just- It’s the title. Deputy Commissioner Gleb Vaganov... I have to sound meaner than I really am. I promise. I’m not... so.... Let me help.”

Busying himself with picking up papers, Gleb felt... bad. Embarrassed. He’d really thought she was that thief. They wore their hair in that same fishtail plait. But he remembered meeting her, well not meeting her, being introduced to her as the commanding officer for the floor. Soon, Gorlinsky said, Gleb would be in charge of the Leningrad office, as long as he remained a dutiful and loyal soldier. Ambition got the better of him. The minute the uniform went on, Gleb Vaganov had to put his personality on a shelf in favor of his professional persona... who really was much stricter - meaner - than he was. He wasn’t so bad, was he?

The case was closed. The Ivanov family had been deemed harmless to the new regime. For three long months, Gleb had been assigned to investigate the Ivanov family. Rumors circled that the family’s Catholicism made them loyal to Rome and not Russia. Though the Bolsheviks currently preached religious freedom, change crackled in the air like electricity. Zealots in the government were discontent with allowing others to practice religion at all. Whether Jew or Christian, religion was against Marxist theory. Revolution demanded the upending of all religious institutions. While Gleb agreed that it was right to defund the Russian Orthodox church, and even to strip them of their pivotal role in Russian identity, he didn’t see religion itself as dangerous. It gave people hope and hope fed revolution. Moreover, Gleb did not understand religion. His father, a staunch atheist, had convinced Gleb’s mother to abandon Orthodoxy before Gleb was born. He had been raised to believe there was no god. If the Bolshevik leaders were truly atheist, what thread did an invisible man in the sky pose? 

People did crazy things in the name of their gods. Gleb had studied enough history to know this. Still, the particular family he’d been assigned to investigate was not particularly dangerous. The mother was a German immigrant, who had forsaken her homeland for Russia. The father, a Russian native, seemed to have converted as a compromise to get his wife to move with him to St. Petersburg. And the daughter -

The daughter was Gleb’s secretary. 

He suspected that was why he’d been assigned her case. Of anyone at the office, Gleb was the only officer she spoke with at length. They enjoyed each other’s company. How easy it was to lull a woman into a false sense of security once you’d befriended her! How painful it was to lull a woman into a false sense of security at all. a month into the investigation, he almost cracked. He remembered the day clearly. Together they took tea in his office, while he asked her about her family. He listened quietly as Liesel poured her heart to him. Gleb was not usually moved by personal testimonies. How many times had prostitutes tried to get him to turn a blind eye to them hawking their wares on his streets by telling him how difficult their lives had been? Life was difficult for everyone. No criminal was an exception. Gleb was not an exception. Liesel was not, either. But she was also no criminal. Devoted to the new government and filled with Marxist ideals, she was as much a threat to the government as Gleb himself was. Not at all. She had been telling him a story about a family trip in her youth when the bell, signifying the end of lunch rang. Liesel hopped up, ready to rush back to work. Gleb caught her by the arm - gentle, but firm. He stayed her progress. He wanted to tell her that she was being watched, that her family was being watched. In that moment, he had no words. He had no breath. She looked at him with her almond-shaped eyes. He’d never touched her before. Theirs was a professional friendship. It was inappropriate at best for an officer to touch his secretary - not that that stopped them from doing it. But Gleb? Gleb never had. Perhaps that was why her face reddened. Anger. Frustration. He wouldn’t be surprised. Her lips parted. No words came forth. Gleb released her and looked away. 

“You can finish your story another lunch hour,” he said. “I’d like to hear more.”

She’d click-clacked back to her desk and Gleb watched her leave sadly. He’d filled out cursory reports for the remainder of his assignment and today would present his case to Gorlinksy. He’d carefully typed his report on his typewriter, choosing his words carefully. He and Leisel would be called in for a “meeting”, which was really a hearing, in three hours. As Gleb walked into the office, he walked with brisk steps. His eyes combed through the halls and rooms for Leisel At last, he saw her, dark hair in a slick bun, standing tall, carrying two cups of coffee, walking to his office. Gleb would not embarrass her by calling out. He approached her swiftly and once in a reasonable distance from her said her name. 

“I need to see you in my office,” he said. “Immediately. Anything else you need to do can wait.”

   “I’m so sorry I took so long.” The brunette was making quick steps into the hotel’s foyer as fingers tousled anxiously through her hair trying to get it to settle into place. Somehow she felt more nervous than she ever had in her whole life, or maybe it was just the excitement of it all that had her riled up. They were in Paris! City of love. City of beauty…the city where her parents had met and found love. A city where just for a little while she got to have her dream…what was wrong with pretending to be someone else?

Sadly that was the whole reason why they were there. Because a street sweeper was pretending to be someone else…because…her pretend husband was in love with the other girl…

       She tried very hard to forget it and most of the time she was able to do that.

Like tonight as she lost herself in her preparations to get ready for the ballet and lost track of time before calling to Gleb through the bathroom door for him to head down to the hotel lobby to wait for her- she’d be down in just a few more minutes.

                       “You look amazing.”

Her gaze was focused on the curl of her hair when she heard him speak and it brought her head up to meet his eyes. A part of her wanted to answer him back as honestly as she felt. You look devastatingly handsome. But she knew it wasn’t appropriate and instead did focus on something a little more appropriate a topic despite his comment.

“-a-are you sure?” Her head ducked down again to tug at her dress. “I know we were given clothes, but my mother…well…she had gotten this dress the last time she was here and saved it for me. So I could have it when I’d finally get to go to Paris myself and she said…”

The city was everything and more that she had guessed. It was beautiful. The color. The people and cuisine and life was so different. Not so bitter. Hopeful and beautiful and it made her want to be that way. Hope for her life to be that way…maybe even with him. At least for a little while. Dark almond eyes lifted from fiddling with her dress to look up to him with that same hope and wish for approval as she spoke softly.” She said it might bring me good luck like it did for her.”

It was not a government-issued dress. It fit Liesel too well, and looked too natural on her to be. Self-conscious in his bulky suit, Gleb took in all the fine details of the gone - and of Liesel’s face. When they returned to Russia, he wanted to remember her like this. If he returned to Russia alone to face a firing squad, Liesel would be the last thing he thought of. But tonight was not the night for grief; only to admire every inch of her. He listened and nodded.

“I hope it does bring you all the luck in the world,” he said quietly. He wondered what good fortune such a dress could have brought her mother - who had the misfortune to marry a Russian man and scrape by under the czar and, later, under the government Gleb wanted to love. He smoothed his tie. Then, offering his arm to Liesel, said, “I am sure, dorogaya. You look...”

He couldn’t find the word he wanted. He couldn’t even breathe. 

Me, spraying Gleb with a water bottle: STOP THAT! NO! GLEB GET BACK HERE!

Alexa: do EEET! GO FOR IT GLEB! JUST DO IT BABY!