Who: Yelena and Nathaniel King Where: San Francisco, atop the Golden Gate Bridge. When: Night. Why: Because she feels like it. Open: Maybe. Rating: TBD Status: Incomplete. Yelena had figured that the man she’d met in a bar nearly a month ago who had offered her large sums of money and such had led her on. She hadn’t heard from him and therefore had resorted to counting her winnings. She’d had great sex, a cheque with a large sum of money and the watches she’d swiped from him only cemented her positive, 12 figures before the decimal point bank balance. Yes now she was rolling in it and now she was back on her own free to do whatever she liked to whoever she liked. Just the way it should be. That was probably why she was spitting in the Americans face by sitting atop their prized Golden Gate Bridge drinking the best Russian Vodka and cursing at the idiots below her. She was looking over when she felt someone behind her. “What is it that you want?” She asked curiously, whoever had snuck up behind her had not only nerve but also a screw loose in their brain. She pulled her dagger out and went for their thigh but was blocked and brought up to face whoever her companion was. She smirked, “you” She mused.