A/N: I still don't think she's Taylor Shaw. Sorry, I'm sticking to my guns here. It's just not making sense. I'll believe it when there's legit proof. Until then, my working theory prevails. I came up with this because of that little interview they did during the commercial break with Gero, Alexander, and Stapleton during the episode and all the possibilities there could be behind her identity and how the ZIP may have changed her. As for the title, 'Dulcinea' implies hopeless devotion and love. "Devil Side" by Foxes.

Dulcinea

XOX

Still I want you

But not for your devil side

Not for your haunted life

Just for you

So tell me why I deal with your devil side

I deal with your dangerous mind

But never with you

So who's gonna save you now?

Who's gonna save you?

XOX

Sometimes, she wondered what it would be like to be as oblivious as the people she passed on the street. Always the silent observer, she'd listen to their conversations as she passed them by, wondering if one day she would ever be that free. To not have to carry all of this horrible knowledge in her mind. To worry only about whether buying organic was really better for you in the long run, what show she should binge-watch to pass the time, if she was too thin, too tall, not pretty enough, or if she really needed that second cup of over-priced coffee.

Oh, what she'd give to be them.

"You're early."

His voice pulled her from her musings. Jane turned, eyeing Oscar warily, as always. They'd been meeting off and on over the past couple months. Her desire for answers outweighing her unease, in the end.

"You're late," she quipped, gaze shifting back to the city that never slept below.

He studied her intently, reading the tension in her stance. It seemed to only grow in his presence as the weeks went by. "You claim you trust him, but you haven't told him yet. Why?"

Jane's jaw clenched at the mocking tone of his voice. It was less a question and more of an inference about her real faith in Weller—a crude supposition she was rapidly growing tired of.

As it was, she nearly asked him what he was referring to—her apparently having done this to herself, her abduction, the meetings with him, that she actually was Taylor Shaw, or worse still—that her own people had taken their anger at her lack of cooperation out on Kurt.

"I do trust him. Have you thought maybe it's you I don't trust? Who's to say these answers you're giving me aren't lies to pacify me? There's no proof but your word, and I have no reason to trust it," Jane replied evenly.

Nearly every conversation started with some iteration of this argument. It was exhausting, and her patience was wearing thin. He refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Why would I lie to you about who you really are?"

She laughed haughtily. "Why not? If it fits your narrative, if it keeps me from digging any deeper, then why wouldn't you?"

Oscar shook his head. "You know, you were stubborn before, but this…" he sighed, running a hand across the back of his neck. "This is…something else. He's really rubbing off on you."

Jane ignored the barb.

"You want to know why I don't believe you, when you say I'm her?" Jane asked, turning to face him fully, alleviating some of the distance between them. Oscar shrugged, failing at masking his curiosity. "Because you never call me Taylor. You never say my name. You don't call me anything. And that's why I don't believe you."

An emotion she couldn't identify flashed in his eyes, gone in a blink.

She'd spent days, weeks, thinking over that small revelation. Who was to say someone hadn't held a gun to her head while she recorded that video? Who's to say she actually "volunteered" for this mission? Had she really come up with this plan, or had it been forced upon her, along with the tattoos and the memory wipe? There were no assurances any of this was real, that she was little more than a pawn in a game she didn't realize she was playing.

"You can think whatever you want, doesn't change the truth," he said bitterly, looking away. Oscar paused, deciding whether he should push this further. "Have you thought maybe it's too hard for me to say your name? To have you constantly ripped away from me, to know you trust him more than me, that it's his arms you go running back to when we're done here?"

Jane winced at that. She nearly demanded to know why he was following her, but that defeated his whole purpose, didn't it? He was there to be a different kind of security detail ever since she'd dropped her official one.

"That's not your business," Jane threw back, crossing her arms defensively.

He gave a short, dark laugh. "You don't get it, do you? You are my business. I couldn't leave if I wanted to," he said harshly, running out of platitudes.

Jane met his eyes, feeling her heart skip a beat at the fierce protectiveness that swam in them. It was the same look she saw in Kurt's eyes, every day.

"No, you could leave," Jane observed. "You don't have any real loyalty to me—in a way, I made sure of that when I gave you the ring back. You could have moved on, let me go. But you didn't…you won't."

He gave her only the barest hint of a nod.

"I'm sorry, that you lost her. I'm sorry I can't be her," she whispered, not unaware that she'd said nearly the same words to Kurt only a few months ago.

"I think we're done for tonight," Oscar said quietly, leaving little room for argument.

"No," Jane said, her anger returning. "You want me to do these…these missions, to further your—my—plan…I want something in return."

Oscar eyed her skeptically. "You do get something—you get your answers," he said flatly, scowling. Jane shook her head.

"If you want my cooperation, my trust, promise me you'll keep them—the team—safe. They're my friends. They're all I have, and I won't lose them. If you don't agree to do this for me, you'll never see me again," she said, her tone holding a threatening finality he didn't doubt.

Oscar scoffed. "Your team? You mean him."

Her bright green eyes sparked, barely concealed rage spiking in her blood. "He is part of them. And he was hurt by our people. If they come after him again, I'll expose this whole plan, everything I know, you, all of it," she hissed.

It was one thing for her to suffer at the hands of people bent on bringing down the government, another for Kurt to pay for her past.

Consider this your wake up call. That's what Oscar had said when she'd come, screaming and throwing punches at him for not warning her. They weren't patient people, and they could care less about who she loved.

The mission above everything. That was becoming very clear.

"You'd do that? You'd risk everything we've built for some guy you're sleeping with? I thought you were better than that," Oscar seethed.

Jane shook her head, shrugging. "Maybe she was…but I'm not her anymore. Protect them. Promise me."

He was quiet for a long moment. She was right. She was a completely different person now. One he barely recognized. She'd always been the "sacrifice a few to save many" type, but that was no longer the case. She'd built a life around these people, her team—one she'd never had with him even when they'd been engaged. He could see what she'd do to hold onto it.

"I'll do what I can. That's it."

Jane nodded curtly. It was all she could really expect.

Their deal was made. She'd start her first mission in two weeks. He'd enforce her demand. Kurt, her team—they weren't to be touched.

Jane pulled her jacket a little tighter around her body and headed down the stairs, leaving Oscar alone on the roof without so much as a goodbye.

He'd follow after her soon anyway.

XOX

Jane slid into the back of the cab, rattling Kurt's address off automatically.

She chewed her thumbnail viciously as the driver pulled away from the curb, anxious about keeping yet another secret from Kurt and the team. She wondered what it said about her as a person that lying was becoming as easy as breathing. At some point, it was all going to blow up in her face.

Worse, she couldn't really refute Oscar's accusations. It was Kurt that she wanted him to protect. Coming home not four days ago to an empty apartment had been disconcerting enough, but receiving a call from the ER that her…Kurt…was in the ICU after having been beaten by a "gang" pushed her over the edge. Deep down she wondered if Oscar had been the one to instigate this, to get her exactly where he wanted her—agreeing to these "missions" for the sake of her team.

It was smart, really. Kurt was her weakness, her blindspot. And she was Oscar's. She knew he'd agree to watch over the team if it kept her from leaving him. They both got what they wanted, in the end.

"Ma'am…Ma'am, we're here," the cab driver said loudly, pulling Jane from her thoughts.

"Sorry, here," she mumbled, handing him a few bills. "Thank you."

Jane pulled up the hood of her jacket as the rain began to fall, fishing around in her pocket for her key.

It had been pouring rain that first night she showed up on his doorstep. After facing off with an obnoxious Rich Dotcom who'd made a show of refusing to speak with anyone but her and Kurt—much to Allison's chagrin—and did nothing but taunt them mercilessly for all to witness. After a heated battle with Allison on how things should be handled by real agents, a comment directed at Jane in light of her reaction to Dotcom's lascivious commentary on what he'd like to do to her when he finally got out of prison. Sure, strangling him probably wasn't the best way to channel her rage, but it had certainly shut the man up. It wasn't like Kurt hadn't been about to do the same thing. He'd pulled his fist back right as she'd lunged forward. She'd simply beaten him to the punch—quite literally.

While the team was left to coordinate with a very pissed off U.S. Marshall, Kurt and Jane had been dismissed by Mayfair, who'd been irritated by Jane's actions but not nearly as surprised Allision.

"I know this was personal. Go home, both of you. Cool off."

They'd gone their separate ways without a word. She'd met up with Oscar, only adding fuel to a greater fire when he refused to tell her anything more unless she started participating in the missions he demanded of her.

With no detail watching her every move and no one checking up on her, she simply wandered aimlessly until she wound up in a familiar place, ringing an equally familiar buzzer.

"Jane, what are you…" Kurt began, taking in her shivering, bedraggled appearance. He'd quickly tugged her inside, disappearing and reappearing with a large towel. He wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "C'mon, you're soaked and it's freezing out there. Why don't you take a shower? I'll get you some dry clothes, though I can't promise they'll fit. Sarah took most of her stuff when they moved out."

She'd nodded, accepting the shower and the warm, dry clothes without a word. He hadn't pushed when she finally emerged, swallowed up in an FBI tee and a pair of his boxers she'd had to roll three times, though they still hung low on her hips. They ate dinner in a comfortable silence while her clothes tumbled in the dryer, and still he asked nothing of her.

Part of her had wondered if he thought speaking would scare her away again, or if bringing up their…relationship…was the real trigger.

"I'm sorry, for standing you up that night in the park," she said finally, as they cleared the dishes away. Even if she couldn't tell him why, he deserved an apology. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I wanted to go. I just…it was all…"

"Too much, too fast," Kurt finished for her, a small smile touching the corner of his lips. "It was my fault, I pushed you too hard. I wasn't thinking clearly, with what happened on the plane, and all."

"But I was the one that started it," she reconciled, placing a hand on his arm. "I kissed you, and maybe I shouldn't have, but I don't regret it. I'm sorry if you've gotten that impression these past couple weeks. I just…freaked out, I guess."

He studied her for a moment, searching. He knew she wasn't being completely forthcoming. She'd been off since their impromptu kiss, and he got the feeling it had less to do with him and more to do with her. "If something's wrong, you can tell me, Jane. You can trust me."

She smiled, trying to quell the worry in his eyes as her heart clenched painfully. "I do trust you, Kurt," she answered in earnest, even as her smile remained forced. "I just need time, to figure some things out."

He nodded, knowing if he forced the issue again he'd lose her. "I'm here, when you're ready."

"I know," she whispered, setting the plates in the sink and turning to lean back against the counter while he took over rinsing them. "So…um…what did you want to tell me?"

Kurt wiped his hands on a towel, glancing at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"On the plane, you started to say something. And then you wanted to meet in the park. What did you want to tell me, Kurt?"

She watched as sadness, regret, nervousness, and a small glimmer of hope fleetingly crossed his face.

"Nothing, Jane. It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing," she prodded gently.

Kurt sighed, looking anywhere but at her. "It's nothing you'd want to hear," he said carefully, desperate to change the subject.

"How do you know? You haven't told me anything. Cryptic isn't really your forte Weller," Jane taunted good-naturedly, knowing she could get him to cave.

He shook his head. "Jane, drop it, please," he said firmly, desperation evident in his voice. Her sly smirk faltered at the pain and the desire warring in his blue eyes.

She'd already burned him once, why should he have any reason to trust her with his feelings?

"Maybe I should go," she said, a heaviness settling over them in the dim apartment. "Thank you, for dinner, and the clothes."

Kurt nodded, tossing the dishtowel onto the counter. They couldn't keep this act up forever, and frankly her dramatic hot and cold mood swings were driving him crazy. One of them had to fix this, make some kind of move.

"Jane," he said gently, something in his voice making her heart skip. "That night, in the park…who said I wanted to talk?"

Her forehead creased, confusion lighting her eyes before she fully processed his words.

A slow smile curled her lips, his hand cupping her jaw, thumb ghosting over her cheekbone. "My mistake," Jane said breathlessly.

He invaded her space, the same prickling heat she felt in her stomach the last time they'd kissed returned with a vengeance as her hands made their way up the hard planes of his chest. His free hand settled on the small of her back, pulling her as close as he could.

He leaned down, his lips barely brushing hers when the dryer buzzed and they jumped apart, startled. Kurt laughed lightly as she blushed, resting his forehead against hers.

"Every time," she muttered inaudibly.

I'll be right back," he said, squeezing her shoulders before leaving to stop the offensive noise.

Jane sunk back against the countertop when he left, trying to gather her bearings.

So much for keeping him at arms length. She frowned at that, knowing she should leave. This thing between them was getting out of hand, and if she continued to let herself fall into this fairytale, it would be that much harder to let go of when all of her truths came out.

"Well, your clothes are dry," Kurt said, coming to stand in front of her once more.

"Thank you…thanks…I'll just go change. I should probably head out anyway," Jane replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear anxiously.

Kurt glanced at his watch, grasping her wrist gently. "Jane, why don't you stay? It's late, it's raining, and you're already here. I can make up the guest bedroom for you?"

She should leave. That would be best. She'd nearly kissed him again. Pulling him deeper into her world during the day, making it a part of his job, that was bad enough. Getting involved with him past that would only put him in danger.

But the answer was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

"Okay. I'll stay."

"Okay."

…

"If you need anything, my bedroom is just down the hall," Kurt informed her. Sarah had made sure to leave the guest room in decent shape despite sharing it with a nine-year old, and for that Kurt was grateful.

"Thank you, for this. You really didn't have to," Jane said shyly, trying to resist touching him in any way.

"Look, since tomorrow is Saturday, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get breakfast? We could…talk. About things."

Jane smirked at the blush tingeing his cheeks, deciding to put him out of his misery. "That sounds nice. I promise, I won't blow you off this time."

His smile was wide, and she felt the heat flare in her stomach at the knowledge that her words had done that. "I'm holding you to that."

"I'll….um…see you in the morning. Goodnight, Kurt," Jane said, slipping into the room and gently closing the door behind her.

"Night, Jane."

…

The thunder and lightning were wreaking havoc on her ability to sleep. Dreams of scarred children and faceless men weren't helping either. She felt silly, nearly falling off the bed when the next clap of thunder rumbled low and loud through the apartment.

Putting what was left of her dignity aside, she left the confines of the guest room and made her way to the end of the hall. He'd said if she needed anything to knock.

Jane just hoped he meant it.

She felt terrible when he opened the door, clearly having roused him from a deep sleep.

"Jane? Did you need—"

"Can I sleep with you?" Jane asked quickly, afraid the words would fail her if she didn't. His eyes widened considerably, and she grimaced, realizing how her poorly constructed sentence sounded. "I'm sorry, that's not—"

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head. "It's okay, I understand. Storm sounds pretty bad, is it keeping you awake?"

Jane just nodded, glad the darkness hid the bright red flush that lit her face. "Along with bad dreams…bad memories. I just…don't want to be alone."

"C'mon," Kurt smiled, resting his hand low on her back. "Let's get you settled. Some of us actually need our beauty sleep. We don't all get to look as beautiful as you in the morning," he teased.

"What's that saying…flattery will get you everywhere?" Jane mocked, sliding under the covers on the opposite side of his bed.

"One can hope," he whispered, and beneath the humor she could hear the seriousness in his voice.

"I like to think so," she agreed softly, grasping his hand and winding her fingers through his.

…

They had breakfast the next morning, and though they'd promised to talk, they'd kept things light, simply enjoying each other's company.

She'd shown up at his door again that following night, claims of bad dreams falling from her lips.

And then, she returned the next night.

And the one after that.

Until she ran out of excuses, and he finally gave her a key.

Oscar was right—they were sleeping together. It was his context that was wrong. And despite herself, Jane wished he wasn't.

Kurt hadn't dared to make a move since the almost kiss in the kitchen, odd sleeping arrangements aside. As gentlemanly as the gesture was, it was driving Jane insane.

She finally cornered him after a night out with Patterson and Zapata, her courage fueled by the alcohol coursing through her veins. "Why haven't you made a move, Kurt? Asked me out, anything? I mean, we're practically living together. You gave me a key. We sleep in the same bed! I just don't get—"

She didn't get a chance to say much after that. The kiss was enough to make her melt, hungry and demanding as he pressed her against the wall where she'd cornered him. His fingers skimmed the exposed skin along her waist, one hand sliding under her tank to circle around her back, the other curling in her hair. Jane tilted her head, running her tongue along the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss as he opened up to her.

"Okay," she whispered when he pulled back, both gasping for air.

"Okay," he grinned, taking in her surprised features and swollen lips. "How about we go out to dinner, tomorrow night?"

"Okay," Jane agreed, still breathing hard.

But it hadn't happened.

She'd come home to an empty apartment and waited. She'd received the call from the ER two hours later, and felt her heart stop. She'd known, even then, that it wasn't random. It couldn't be.

Oscar confirmed it over her vicious screams.

And so, tonight, she'd sold another piece of her soul to keep Kurt safe.

XOX

Jane gently locked the door behind her, peeling off her coat and hanging it to drip dry on one of the hooks next to it. She went about her new routine—meticulously closing the blinds and curtains, making sure all the latches on the windows were locked properly—and turning out any lights that were on as she moved through the apartment. She'd even searched the place for cameras and bugs while Kurt had been in the hospital, coming up empty.

It was paranoid, rebellious, and even childish, but she'd be damned if she'd make spying on her and Kurt easy for him.

Satisfied with her inspection, Jane padded down the hall, stopping in front of his door. She took a few deep breaths, trying to shed the burden of her latest meeting before she went inside. He could read her emotional state like a book sometimes, and spending all this time with him had made him even more aware of even her smallest nuances.

Jane wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this up.

She smiled, shaking her head at the sight of him. Mayfair had demanded he take the week to recover—an idea a workaholic like him was not taking kindly to. He'd become a bear to be around, and she'd taken to smuggling their recent case files out for him. Case files he was currently using as both pillow and blanket, half the pictures strewn across the hardwood floor, having fallen from his hand.

The garish bruises that covered his body were finally starting to heal, not nearly as alarming as they'd looked four days ago. His left eye was still swollen, and there was a nasty cut that split his lip, but they'd had the decency to leave his face alone, for the most part. For her to better identify him, Jane had only realized later.

Jane sighed, collecting what she could of the pictures and placing them on the nightstand before moving to the dresser. Since she'd started coming to his place on a nightly basis, he'd cleared out a drawer for her.

Jane pulled open her drawer, grabbing a red tank top and a pair of his boxers.

Patterson and Zapata had laughed when she told them what was going on, both joking that the two of them were doing this whole relationship thing terribly out of order. Not that she didn't agree with them. They were an odd pair. Even Borden considered their relationship unorthodox, and she hadn't exactly been forthcoming about the details of it with him lately.

She tugged her damp, long sleeve shirt over her head, dropping it in the hamper along with her sports bra. Stepping out of her jeans, she added them to the pile.

Lost in her thoughts, Jane didn't feel his eyes on her, didn't feel him approach. She crossed her arms over her bare chest, half turning in the dark room when his hand came to rest on her hip, grabbing her attention with a startled yelp.

"I…um…thought you were asleep," she whispered in agitation, self-conscious under his heated gaze.

Kurt, to his credit, kept his eyes locked on hers. "Heard you stumbling around in here—woke me up. Did you just get in?"

Jane swallowed hard, goosebumps racing across her arms. "Yeah, I, um, just decided to walk, for awhile."

Kurt nodded, accepting her explanation. He wasn't an idiot—she was lying through her perfect teeth and he knew it, but pushing her wouldn't get him anywhere.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, desperate to change the topic.

Kurt smiled suggestively, his eyes falling from hers to her state of undress. "Better, now."

She resisted the urge to punch him in the shoulder, knowing that was exactly what he was trying to get her to do. "Don't think that smile of yours is going to get you anywhere, Weller," she chastised.

"Says the topless woman in my bedroom," he grinned brightly as she glowered.

Jane rolled her eyes, not having much of a comeback for that as his thumb traced a slow circle of fire along her hip bone, distracting her from any rational thoughts.

Rational. How could she be, with him looking at her the way he was right now? Like she was the reason he bothered to get up in the morning. Like she hung the moon. The weight of her lies struck her. Everything she'd built here, with him, would be gone in the length of time it took her to confess all her secrets and sins.

Kurt felt her mood shift. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, tilting her chin up. All humor gone from his tone.

Jane shook her head. Keeping one arm covering her chest, she moved her other hand to his blackened left eye, gently soothing the bruised flesh. She swallowed the lump in her throat, hating herself just a little bit more. "There are…there are some things I have to tell you. Want to tell you," she managed to say, biting back the tears.

It didn't take him long to put the pieces together, to understand what she was implying. She saw the recognition light his eyes.

He reached up, grasping the hand that traced his bruised eye, pulling it away. She steeled herself for whatever came next.

"Not tonight, Jane. I don't want to talk tonight."

Jane nodded, watching his eyes pitch dark as the deep blue sea. She felt her breath leave her under his heated gaze. "Okay."

The rain beat a steady pattern outside as his fingers skimmed the curves of her hips, up her ribcage. She unfurled her protective arms, letting them fall to her sides. He moved into her space, aligning her body with his and ducking his head to place a kiss next to her ear.

"You are beautiful, Jane. You're a good person. Never forget that."

She made a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a cry. He pulled back, fearing he'd pushed too far after all.

Jane shook her head, reading his mind. "I…I don't know if I was ever truly…happy…before. But you make me happy, and I…I don't want you to regret this, tomorrow. I don't want you to hate me, after tomorrow. But you might. And I…I want so much with you, Kurt. I don't think I deserve it."

"Hey, look at me," Kurt said firmly, drawing her watery gaze to his. "Whatever it is, we will get through it." He toyed with a strand of her hair, pausing before continuing. "Besides, I don't think I could ever hate you, Jane. I think it's too late for that."

She sucked in a breath at his barely veiled insinuation. Using his chest as leverage, she pushed herself up, wrapping her hand around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers.

She lost herself in the kiss, and they lost themselves in each other as he gently laid her on the bed. He couldn't promise things wouldn't be different once she came clean about everything, and she hadn't made him do so.

She could only hope he loved her enough to forgive her.

XOX

"Are you sure about this? You really think she's going to continue with the plan?" the man scoffed, eyeing Oscar with trepidation.

"She will. She has too. Loyalty means something to her. She doesn't make promises lightly," Oscar said resolutely.

"Maybe before, but you don't know your girl now. She doesn't trust you, and she's all but in love with this agent whose name we put on her back. Tell me, how's that surveillance going?"

Oscar looked away, clenching his jaw.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Fell right into his arms, didn't she?" he ridiculed, shaking his head at the foolishness of his comrade.

"You have to leave them alone. All of them. You touch them again, we lose her," Oscar snapped.

The man shot him a dark look.

"Careful, Oscar. She's necessary. You're not. It would do well for you to remember that," he laughed, no humor coloring it. "Keep her in line, and we won't have to send anymore messages. That's your only job."

"Yeah, right," Oscar mumbled, turning to leave. The man clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder, halting him.

"I admire it, you know. Your devotion to her. But she's never coming back, and you need to get your head in the game."

Oscar gave him a poor mock salute, all but begging for the man to take a swing at him. Like it mattered anyway. His life had ended a year ago, and hers was just beginning.

"Sir, yes, Sir," he muttered. Oscar shrugged on his coat, making his way back out into the darkness.

Back to work.

XOX

So tell me what I need to do

To keep myself away from you

To keep myself from going down

All the way down with you…