Chapter 1

It was nearing eleven at night when a timid, yet, startling rapping occurred at his door. Retrieving his side arm out of habit, he double checked on his son, and approached the door. The rapping came again, this time less timidly. Pressing his cheek against the door, he stared through the peephole and took a breath. He holstered his weapon, in the waistband of his sleek jeans, and unlatched the sliding lock. Opening the door, he looked down upon her. She was holding tightly onto a rather large duffel that swung over her right shoulder.

"Elle," her name slowly whistled out from his lips.

"Hey Seeley," she glanced over her shoulder and then back at him.

"Mind if I come in?"

Holding the door open, he apologized, and offered to take her bag. He shut the door, put away his sidearm, and gestured they move towards the living room. It was small room, with a black leather couch and an armchair to match. In the center, an oblong, sleek, glass table, held by black cast iron legs had an array of magazines and coloring books. Small toys littered the floor, their empty crate overturned by an over zealous four year old.

"Last time I saw you," she scanned his face, "you said that if I ever…"

"Needed a place to stay," he finished for her, "of course, of course."

A little voice came bouncing off the hallway walls as Elle stood as tall and quietly as a mannequin. She turned towards the voice and took a slight breath.

"Popcorn," the little boy's voice shouted, "we need popcorn!"

"Oh Seeley," Elle furrowed her brow, a small frown played at her lip, "I didn't know you had Parker."

"I can always stay at a hotel."

"Don't be silly," his broad smile lit his face, "he'll be glad to see you."

Seeley called out to his son, Parker, that they had a visitor. Parker, came running down the hallway, his blonde curls bouncing, his bare feet pounded down the wooden hall. He was dressed in blue jeans and a white polo. Elle smiled as she took a second glance at Seeley. Parker was a miniaturized version of his father, clothing, and all.

Seeley got down to his knees and grabbed a hold of his son and began to introduce their guest, when Parker, his bright eyes wide in delight, ran over to Elle.

"Elle!" he threw himself against her legs, hugging her tightly.

"You here for our sleepover too?"

"Hey there, kiddo," she squatted down to return his hug.

"You're having a sleepover?"

"Uh huh," he nodded animatedly, "daddy said we get to stay up late too!"

"That's right," Seeley tussled his son's curls, and then mouthed to Elle,

"He'll be out before I even pop the kernels."

Elle smiled. Everything that she needed was standing in front of her. Stability, comfort, strength, and love, all were emitted from Seeley's concerned eyes and his welcoming smile. These were things she had long forgotten as a Special Operative for the FBI. Her latest stint, undisclosed for many reasons, left her half the woman she was, and worse, longing for the years she had to pretend to be something she wasn't. Seeley took in the view, her sullen expression, her dark eyes, heavy as if she hadn't slept in weeks, and the cautious way she took in the logistics of the room. Seeley patted Parker on the rear and sent his son back towards the playroom. Parker stopped midway and turned to Elle.

"You have to see my tent!"

With a four year old's speed, he turned abruptly and was out of sight. Elle turned to Seeley and her expression said it all.

"A tent?"

"Boys weekend," Seeley shrugged, "the rain kept us from having it outside."

"You sure I'm not intruding," she followed Seeley into his kitchen, where she watched him toss in a packet of unpopped kernels, pressed the button on the microwave, and turned to face her. His expression darkened.

"I'm positive," he reached for her arm, but she flinched. She was positive he didn't notice, but he grasped her arm, his fingers a bit firmer this time.

"You flinched," his hand rested on her lower arm.

"No, I didn't," she shrugged off his perceptiveness, lying through her teeth.

"You never flinch," he stated and with that, he rolled up her sleeve and she attempted her hardest to pull away.

Her arm was an array of varied bruises, some healing, some recent. The deep purples, ghastly greens, paling ambers, and stony blues that coated her arm, made him shrink back in disgust. Seeley despised the mere thought of a woman being beaten. Elle flinched again, this time as his fingers traced one of the bruises.

"What the hell is this," his words came out in low thunderous rumbles.

He wrapped his hand around her waist and this time Elle winced in pain as his hand graced her side. Alarming Seeley, he feverishly lifted up the side of her shirt and to his horror; more bruises covered half her back and her side.

"Better yet," he pushed her back so he could look in her eyes, "who the hell did this?"

"You know I can't disclose that information, Seeley," she verbalized, her tone, steady, trained, and formal.

"Don't play that bureaucratic bullshit card with me," he was serious.

"Please, Seeley," Elle pressed her shirt and rolled down her sleeve, "not tonight."

"I'll find out," he promised her, and as grateful as she was with him, she was also a bit pestered.

"I know you will," she placed a hand on his cheek, "but I rather tell you, when I'm ready."

"I thought you couldn't disclose that information," he slightly grinned.

"I can't."

The microwave beeped that that popcorn was ready and Seeley grabbed it, poured it into a big metal, and slammed the door shut. He was used the games they had to play, the secrets they had to keep from one another, but this time, something she had been working on, had her literally beaten and bruised. He knew, from his years as a sniper, that you could repress those memories, but they always found their way out, creeping into your dreams, the shadows of the faces you killed, passing you on the sidewalk. Whatever it was she went through, it'd never be too far gone. She may heal, physically, but emotionally…

He sighed and took in a few deep breaths before turning to face her. She looked so small, standing in his kitchen, almost lost. Then she smiled and it was as if she had finally been found. He was better off not worrying, he knew she would talk to him when she was ready, but his blood was still slowly boiling with anger. She tilted her head to the side and asked him if he had anything to drink, snapping him back to the present.

"A water will do," she walked to the sink, but Seeley grabbed her hand and led her back towards him.

"Bottles are in the fridge," he kissed the top of her head, "when you're ready, down the hall, and to your left."

"Seeley…," she scrunched her nose, "Parker's here."

Seeley's body vibrated with laughter, the popcorn jumping in the bowl. He walked away from her and she could here his voice fading as they became distanced. She watched as he stopped and turned around. She could barely make out a wink, as his voice got a bit louder.

"One track mind with you Donovan," he shook his head, "come see Parker's tent."

Elle took a few sips of water and propped herself up against the marble counter in the kitchen. Trying desperately to catch her breath, she fought back the tears in her eyes. Feeling his hands on her, brought back such tender moments, but what was worse, was the fact that they were clouded by her recent activities. Her time and duty with the Special Operatives was finally over, but not without consequences. She came within inches of her life not knowing if she would ever make it out alive. They teach you everything, the training is dually immense and intense, yet they never teach you how to recover. She hated lying to Seeley. She knew he would call the Agency behind her back and find out the details and until he did, she knew she had time to think about things. Running her hand through her hair, she pulled it back into a loose ponytail, and found her way towards the Boys' Room.

She peeked her head through the door and saw Seeley's legs sticking out from the inside of a large, industrial sized, tent. She walked over and squatted down to peer inside. He turned to face her and threw his thumb in Parker's direction. Sure enough, the little boy was asleep amongst the many pillows and blankets that lined the floor of the tent. Seeley had strung lights along the tent, creating a starry night effect. Seeley called her over, and patted one of the large pillows.

"What did I tell you," he caressed his son's head, "out like a light."

"He's gotten so big," Elle whispered, "looks more and more like you."

"Lucky kid," he raised his eyebrows twice and grinned.

Seeley exited the tent and held out a hand for Elle as she got to her feet. It was incredibly spacious inside the tent, that she didn't realize she was practically standing inside of it. They sat on the floor, just outside the tent, in case Parker woke up, missing his dad, and they talked.

"So what brings you to D.C.?"

"Transfer," Elle didn't give him much, "short notice."

"The Agency's getting me situated, hence why I don't have a place to stay."

"No kidding," he guffawed, "they're footing the bill?"

"I see it as sort of a severance pay," she scoffed, "I'm no longer Special Ops."

"You're just a plain suit then," he smiled, "like me."

"Did you get your orders yet?"

"Transfer to Washington, D.C. Bring what you own. Get a suit." She talked with her hands.

"I've pretty much got that duffel and my side arm, Seeley," she sighed, "I didn't acquire much as a Special Ops."