A/N: This picks up after the last episode of Breakout Kings, which left all of us wondering what the heck was going to happen with Lloyd and Julianne! Since they dropped the series, however, this is my thought on how this would have all played out. Life is a little crazy, so I'm doing this in short little bites to be able to update regularly. Thanks for tuning in!

'I just want to tell you that…I love you.'

'I do have feelings for you, just…not like you think.'

'It was just a kiss. I regret doing it.'

'If you don't like it, you can call the Marshals and report my escape. I'm just a con to you anyway.'

'I kissed Lloyd.'

'Damn it Jules, I vouched for you!'

'You're going to have to go down there.'

'You with the Marshals? Your guy's over there.'

"Shit!"

Throwing down the book in her hand, Julianne leaned back in her bed and pressed her palms to her burning eyes. It was three o'clock in the morning. She had to get up for work in a few hours, but she'd long since given up on sleep.

She hadn't slept, really slept, in days. She could have blamed it on the turmoil that followed Damien's death, now that the Marshals were gunning for Ray. But she knew that wasn't the real reason.

She hadn't slept since the day she'd found Lloyd in that basement.

That whole horrid day was frozen in her head on repeat. It should have been so simple. Tell Lloyd she wanted to be friends. Work the case. Get back to normal.

Only it hadn't worked that way.

She'd thought, for a terrible, horrible moment, she'd thought he was dead. Tipping her head up to stare at the bland white of her standard issue apartment ceiling, she let the blinders she'd set up slip. She heard the voice on the phone in her ear, telling her that they'd gotten a phone call from Damien-and that Lloyd was there. She felt the knot in her throat when she'd called Ray, and the way her stomach had plummeted when she saw them wheeling a body out.

When she'd seen him, alive and well, she hadn't thought. She hadn't thought about the police, or her reputation. She hadn't remembered that he was a con and she was a contractor with the US Marshals. She hadn't even remembered that she'd told him she didn't love him. All she could see was that he was alive and well, and right there in front of her.

Then he'd turned his head and looked at her, just looked at her, and in that second before he'd looked away those dead eyes had told her everything. Lloyd had been pushed past his breaking point. While she'd been fretting that he'd made a run for it, he'd been locked in this basement with Damien doing whatever it was that had led to that body being wheeled out. While he was trapped down there he'd thought…well, she had no idea what he'd thought, but given the way they'd parted she was pretty sure it wasn't good.

It had been a long, silent ride back to the office. Lloyd had stared blankly out the windshield, lost in the hell of his own mind, while Julianne struggled to find a way to reach him. She hadn't been surprised when Ray said he'd quit, any more than she'd been surprised to see him come back. He had to finish this. He knew it. She knew it. The whole team knew it.

What made it worse was that Damien knew it. She'd had to listen for minutes to Damien's endless taunting, pulling more pieces off of Lloyd while he struggled to hold it together long enough for Julianne to get a fix on his location. She'd never forget the surge of victory she felt when that alarm rang through the telephone.

Now Damien was dead, Max was in jail and Teresa was safe, and none of them seemed to know where to go from here. They were all just marking time until their next case, with too much time to think.

Julianne didn't want to think. Because when she did, she remembered that she'd hurt a good man. One that had gone out of his way to be there for her, time and time again. One who, she was sorry to say, she'd forced herself to think of as nothing more than a convict. A member of her team, maybe even a friend, but certainly no one she was going to consider being in a relationship with.

She didn't date convicts, especially not ones who still had 18 years left on their sentence. If you counted the time off for the runners they caught. Not that she was.

Snorting, Julianne reached over and snapped off the light, settling back into bed. Lying to her teammates and her boss was one thing. She really needed to quit lying to herself too.