The first words he had ever spoken to her were, "You're kind of insane." He didn't mean them the same way then as he had meant them now; it was in a more teasing manner, not really knowing how true those words would turn out to be, although, insane didn't even begin to describe Catherine Goode, but it was a good place to start.

Her response was a smile and a touch of his shoulder, brief but lingering; Joe didn't really know her—he only knew of her, really—but he was a 16-year-old boy with raging hormones, so his pulse began to race a little with excitement. It was a game between a teenage girl and a teenage boy, and at this point in Joe's life, games were all he really knew, so he decided to play it. "And you, Joseph Solomon; if I'm insane, what are you exactly?" She asked teasingly after he had blurted out his question while listening in on her story about slicing a man's throat on her last mission.

Joe was briefly thrown as he searched for a response. He had only been officially apart of the Circle of Cavan for a week, so he hadn't expected her to know his name yet. He had heard of her of course; Catherine Goode was like a superstar in their cell. A girl of about 15 attending the Gallagher Academy, only been apart of the Circle of Cavan for 3 months, and yet she excelled way beyond her years. She was beautiful (a weapon that men everywhere have found to be extremely dangerous), incredibly daring ("not possible" was not a phrase in Catherine's dictionary), and most of all, she might have had not an once of a conscience (surviving the Circle of Cavan meant not any feeling guilt of all); Joe would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit in love with her.

"I'm," he fumbled over his response. "I'm in way over my head." And Catherine Goode smiled, like that was the response she had been looking for.

…

Her hair is the color of a burning hot flame and he couldn't stop running his hands through it. When Joe kissed her, her China pale skin would flush. When she was ran her hands over his toned chest, she would get a devious grin on her face. Joe loved every second of it.

They weren't dating or anything of that sort; no, in their line of work there was no dating at all. The Circle of Cavan consisted of people so messed up, mental patients would seem sane. A relationship would never really work out. But either Joe was in a love-sick delusion, or what he and Catherine had was far stronger than of something of the friends with benefits range.

"Planning on taking advantage of me, Joseph?" She whispered against his lips once after a heated kiss.

"I think the question is, Catherine," He kissed her neck, "If you're planning on taking advantage of me."

Catherine grinned. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

…

Eventually Catherine began to grow tired of Joe. After five months she began to give him excuses as to why she couldn't run off to a rooftop for a make out session. After six she would push him away when he'd try to kiss her in public. Seven was when her sights landed on someone else entirely.

Joe never got a name. The only information he knew, he had gotten from Circle gossip. "He's extremely handsome," He overheard one of the female agents say one day, "Tall, dark, and handsome. Catherine's infatuated."

When he eventually confronted her about it, Catherine just rolled her eyes. "Well yeah, I've kind of moved on." She shrugged. "I'm done with this." She gestured between them.

Joe shook his head. "What is he? A civilian? You'll get bored way too quickly."

Catherine shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not." She smiled.

What had first felt like hurt quickly turned into rage. "Do you take pleasure out of this, Catherine?" He was only vaguely aware that his voice was rising, only just below a yell. "Do you just go around hurting men? Is that what you do? You find a guy and then hurt him in anyway you can, whatever hurts the most, and then feel that twisted sense of enjoyment out of it?"

Catherine tilted her head slightly in thought. "No," she said after a moment. "Only you."

"Well that's too bad," He whispered, "Because I'm done."

…

Two years after his confrontation with Catherine, Joe left the Circle of Cavan for good and started training with the CIA. He met Matt, eventually met Rachel and her sister Abby and had made sure he had cut Catherine Goode out of his life permanently until her kisses were nothing but a distant memory.

When he was walking home from work one day a voice came from behind him. "So, working with the enemy now?" He didn't bother turning around, he wasn't going to give her that kind of satisfaction. "What do you want, Catherine?" He asked.

Catherine walked into his vision and smiled that familiar devious smile. "I just wanted to check up on you. I have been worrying, you know."

Joe let out a single, bitter laugh. "Right. Like worry is an emotion you are even capable of feeling."

Catherine pouted. "That hurt." When he didn't crack a smile, she sighed. "Come on, Joe. You know I'm always thinking of you."

"In your sadistic dreams," He said, dryly. "That makes me feel really good."

Catherine only smiled. "So allied with Matt Morgan now, are you?" He didn't respond. "And…Rachel Cameron by the looks of it. Oh, I heard they're getting married soon." Joe remained completely impassive. "And how did that feel? Your best friend ending up with the woman you're secretly in love with?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," He said coolly.

"Unrequited love is a bitch," She said, as if she hadn't heard him at all.

"Right. I'm leaving."

"This will never be enough, you know," She called after him. "This life. You'll always be connected with us, and it's eating you up inside."

…

"Catherine had a baby," Rachel announced one day, her belly just beginning to pick from beneath her shirt from 3 months of pregnancy.

"Lord, have mercy on that child," Matt called from the kitchen.

Joe tried to keep a look of little interest. "Who's the father?" He asked.

Rachel shrugged. "Who knows?" She laughed and nudged him with her shoulder. "Why? Have any secret affairs with Catherine Goode recently?"

Joe forced out a laugh. "Yeah I guess I better go see her about a

…

It's not like he planned on Catherine's son showing up at his door one day in the rain. And what was he supposed to do? Send a soaking wet 13-year-old boy back to his evil mother? So when Zach Goode appeared at Joe's safe house pleading for a way out, Joe let him in. He told himself it had nothing to do with Catherine at all.

The first thing he noticed was Zach's eyes; dark as the night sky. They were Catherine's eyes. Joe couldn't find it in himself to meet them.

"Did you know my mother?" Zach had asked after a week of living with him.

Yes, I knew her. I know how sick and twisted her mind is, the enjoyment she finds in winning all of her little games. I know how much she enjoys power; power is what runs her. She has to be in control—always—or else she couldn't function properly. I know all that. But I also happen to know her favorite flavor of lip gloss is cherry, she always wears it. Every once in awhile she likes to settle down and spend five hours straight watching a James Bond marathon. Her died from an overdose when she was seven and her mom abused her until that letter arrived from The Gallagher Academy; that was her escape. I think I loved her.

"No," Joe Solomon responded, "No I didn't really know her at all."

…

Catherine really knows how to get what she wants.

"I won't ever tell you," He had whispered. Her response was a good hard whack of a whip in his face. "I can keep this up, you know," She said casually.

His face was sticky with blood; his head pounded with pain. He was pretty sure he was seeing stars and yet Joe Solomon did not give in. He would die to take down the Circle of Cavan if he had to, just like Matt. He would go down if it meant Catherine was going down with him.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

He knew why she was doing it, and it wasn't because she thought he would eventually give into to her if she continued to physically hurt him. No, Catherine knew Joe didn't care about physical pain. Joe's taken a thousand hits in his life and a couple more certainly would not kill him. In fact, the pain was a distraction, he almost welcomed it.

No, Catherine was enjoying this moment for what it was worth until it was time to really get him to talk. She liked it. She liked watching him suffer and squirm; her the predator, him the prey. It had always been this way between them. His suffering is her greatest pleasure.

"You know this doesn't do anything, Catherine," He murmured, leaning over in his chair as a wave a nausea hit. His shoulders screamed and he remembered that his hands were bound behind him.

"Oh, I know that, Darling," She happily replied, running her hands over the base of the whip.

He watched her for a moment, the look of contentment on her face was clear. She was five spaces ahead of them rest of them on the game board and she was just beginning to see the finish line. "There was once a time I thought I loved you," he whispered, eyes trained on her hands.

Catherine smiled sweetly, resembling a cat. "I know."

Joe met her eyes. "But now I know it was just a dream."

She sighed. "Oh, Joe. I wasn't a dream." She walked up to him. "I loved you too, you know. You're naivety, you're innocence."

Joe coughed and slowly shook his head, ignoring the pain it ignited. "No you didn't. You loved that you could easily control me."

Catherine circled him, studying him intently while Joe tried to fight his slipping consciousness. The world was suddenly looking really, really black. "You're wrong, Joe." He distinctly heard.

"No," He mumbled before he passed out. "I'll get out of here." His words started to blend together. "And when I do, you won't be able to control me anymore." And then Joe Solomon gave into Catherine Goode one last time and lost consciousness.

…

The last words he have said to her were, "You're kind of insane," and he smiled at the irony of situation as he stood over Catherine Goode's beaten body.

It felt good to be in control for once.