A/N: This is part III of a series I'm writing about Bobbi and Hunter. Parts I and II are multichapter and unfinished so I'm trying to finish them first.

You can obviously read this without having read the things I haven't finished writing.
Stick around!

'Are you sure you got this?'

'Please. It's a party, if there's one environment I can blend in, is this. Relax, for crying out lo- Shit.'

She had spotted him. He hadn't seen her yet, but he would. There was no running now.

'Bobbi, what happened?' Izzy asked at the other end of her comm.

She took a deep breath, letting the rush of panic induced adrenaline go away. 'Nothing I can't handle. It's fine.'

She got a glass of champagne from a waiter that was offering to guests all around the dancing room. Men and women in tuxedos and dresses were drinking and waltzing to the music being played live. She smiled as she passed them, heading away from the bar at the end of the room. Except, that's exactly when he spotted her.

Hunter's heart skipped a beat. He almost spitted his scotch out of the glass. He hadn't seen Bobbi in months and he wasn't expecting to, although that didn't mean Lance Hunter didn't think of her everyday. He quickly realized she was trying to elude him, meaning Hunter would face her, only because she didn't want him to.

'Spotted him yet, Lieu?' A voice broke his line of thought through his comm. He remembered where he was and what he was doing.

'No, not yet'. He caught her trying to sneak out the rear exit. He blocked her, almost running into each other head first.

'So why are you on the move?' The voice said to Hunter.

'Found myself a little bit of trouble. SHIELD, so find out what they're doing here' He cut off his communication. He looked up and smiled at her.

'Bobbi. You look amazing'.

She did. She was wearing a purple dress, deep cleavage with a stone belt just under her breasts, tight around the waist and with a cut from her left upper knee to her ankle.

'You don't look too bad yourself Hunter' she said sincerely and smiled.

'Damn it Bobbi, what is he doing there?' Izzy whispered in her ear.

Bobbi and Hunter held each other's gaze. He was the first to break it, looking at the dance floor and then back at her. 'Care to dance?'

She smirked.'Bobbi…' Izzy warned from HQ.

'It's OK Iz. Nothing I can't handle.' It was Hunter's time to smile, as he took her by the hand and walked her to the center of the ball room.

'Is that Hartley? Tell her I say hi and that she still owes me 100 quid' She put one hand on his bicep.

'Tell him he can bite my ass' Hartley replied to Bobbi. 'She says hi back' Bobbi lied.

He placed one hand on her waist and he took her hand with the other. She began to swirl around the music.

'What are you doing here Bob?' he asked

She smiled. 'Dancing. You?'

He smirked. 'Great bar. Happens to be free. Just my type'.

Sucker punch. Guilt. Remorse. Everything that Bobbi felt ever since the end of her mission in London when she first met Lance Hunter. It was clear her poker face needed work.

'That's… not what I meant' he tried to undo the damage. Too late.

'What's SAS business?' She put up an ice wall just as the music stopped and their dance came to an end.

'I could ask you the same thing about SHIELD, love. But we both know you're not gonna tell me'.

They held each other's gaze again, but there was a fire, an anger that was not there a few minutes ago. This struck a cord elsewhere. In their past. Their history.

'Bobbi, I've got confirmation. He's in' She kept looking at Hunter. 'On it' she said as she walked away from him for a third time.

The Senator was speaking to a woman, exchanging formalities, when Bobbi approached. She was on the phone, or pretended to be, when she bumped a short, dark haired woman standing by the nearest table, which made the Senator look. That was all Bobbi needed. He was known to have a sweet tooth for tall, sensual women who could compel men like sirens… pretty much like Bobbi.

'Are you alright, Miss…?' he spoke from behind her back and smiled as charmingly as he could (which wasn't much) when she turned. He was a powerful man, which in some circles compensated for his lack of attractiveness. She smiled back.

'Mitchell.' They shook hands.

'May I offer you a glass of champagne, miss Mitchell?' he snapped his fingers without looking and a waiter appeared behind him, glasses was the most important man in the room.

'Another, mate.'

The waiter at the bar poured another scotch into Hunter's empty glass. He was focused on his work, sure he was, while Bobbi was ten feet away charming the shit out of a fat old guy with enough money to start a war on his own, but who cared anyway? he was super focus on his job at hand. What was it he was doing here anyway? Beside drinking and not paying attention to Bobbi's laughter and how the fat guy was putting his hands on her waist and dragging her to the dance floor an-

'Seller just walked in' A voice in his head announced. Hunter looked at the door. Right, his job. He drank his whiskey in one sip and followed his target as he made his way up the stairs with a briefcase.

It smelled like bad business even more than he smelled like alcohol. Hunter was tucked in between a fern and a door, in a corridor with no people, no lights on, no security cameras but enough bodyguards and muscle to defend the president. They were all packing. The man with the briefcase was meeting someone. He couldn't hear what they were saying either and Finn, on the other end on the comm, not shutting up wasn't helping. He saw the exchange. A duffle bag full of cash for the briefcase. The man left with the duffle bag and his bodyguards cleared his path and followed him.

'Do you have eyes on our guy?' Finn's voice asked

'Yeah, but…' he turned to look at the buyer with the briefcase but they were gone. 'Nevermind, I'm on it.'

'Excuse me, it'll be just a second miss Mitchell' the Senator said as he took out his ringing phone.

'Sure, no problem. And please, call me Brooke.' she smiled at him. He smiled back. He nodded to a waiter, a few feet behind her, who immediately came back with a glass of champagne, which he offered her and she took.

He moved a few feet away to answer while she took a sip.

'Wow, that was a whole lot of nothing' Izzy whispered in her ear.

'Tell me about it' Bobbi muttered back, barely audible.

'Hey Bob, be careful with this guy alright… something doesn't feel right.' Hartley felt a bad vibe about the whole mission.

Bobbi wouldn't admit it to her, but it was a shared sensation. He hadn't given her any cues, but maybe it was the lack of cues that made her nervous. His whole attitude… she expected the alpha demeanor but he was more… predatorial in a way that made her feel worried in her gut. Which didn't happen often, but she had learned never to ignore.

It was winter. The middle of one of the coldest winters in Eastern Europe and yes, it was an acclimatized room and also yes, she was wearing a dress with little to no fabric so why the hell was she feeling suddenly hot? She tried to look up and her vision started to blur, her head felt heavy on her shoulders, and her eyesight felt slower than the movement of her eyes.

'Iz…' she was having trouble speaking. Making her thoughts into words? Almost impossible. 'I'm not feeling so well' she found the nearest table to support herself with. She reached for her comm, getting more and more desperate, trapped, like a cat in a bag. Her gut never lied; she looked at the glass that was still in her hand. She had been drugged. Her hands were shaking, her legs trembled. She reached her ear but her comm fell. Damn it, she tried to calm down and move. She walked towards the bathroom.

To everyone else, she must have looked drunk. She needed to support herself with the wall as she walked, breathing in and out, until she reached her goal. Still shaking, she got to the sink. She heard someone coming, but was too slow anyway. It was a woman, short, brown hair, and she thought for a moment she was gonna help. Then she felt a needle in her arm and blacked out.

He was in the front yard, pretending to smoke as he kept an eye on the man with the duffle bag. He wasn't even blinking. The man was waiting for a car, with three of this bodyguards checking his every angle. The man saw the car coming a few blocks away, and so did Hunter. He put his cigarette out (god, he hated those things) and crushed it in the snow with his shoe. He took a step toward the man when his phone started vibrating. Without looking, he answered.

'Do you see her?' Isabelle Hartley asked.

He was taken aback. 'What?' he took the phone from his ear to look at the caller ID. Blocked number. 'Who is this?'

'It's Hartley. Do you have eyes on Bobbi or not?'

'No Izzy, I am actually working too, I'll have you known' the car was approaching.

'Hunter, something's wrong. I think-. I can't reach her on her comm or her phone'

He turned back and run across the door of the gala into the ballroom. 'I'm on it' he said and hung up.

'Bobbi!' he started going through people as fast as he could, be she was nowhere to be found. 'Bobbi, where are you?'

He was about to go up the stairs when he saw something through the backdoor. A woman, short, dark hair with a metal briefcase, carrying a tall, blonde, purple dressed unconscious Bobbi Morse out the door. Well, not on his watch.

He run towards them, drawing his gun from his back. 'Stop right there' he said slowly as he stepped outside though the glass window. The woman stopped, her back turned to Hunter. 'Leave her' he said. The woman used both hands to slowly sit Bobbi on the snow covered floor. Hunter was walking to them. He took a step outside and was welcomed by the gun of the Senator on his profile.

'Bloody hell' he whispered and all hell broke loose.

The Senator shot, just as Hunter moved and shot back, missing by an inch. The woman took the briefcase and run. She was picked up by a black SUV. Hunter and the Senator were still shooting at each other, Hunter taking cover inside, behind the glass and the Senator walking backwards to the SUV. The woman held the door open for him.

'Shame' the Senator said and pointed to Bobbi, unconscious on the floor, with his chin. He aimed his gun at her. Hunter pulled the trigger. He hit the Senator's hand, which made the gun fall off. He got into the car and drove off but Hunter could still hear his laughter as he stood there contemplating them.

He took his coat and covered Bobbi with it. He took her in her arms and started walking away, as he heard the police sirens way too close to him and picked up his pace.

She was freezing. No, she was melting down. No… pretty sure she was both at the same time. In any case, Bobbi did not feel okay. Her body was aching. She felt cold but her eyes and cheeks were hot. She tried to open them but they were too heavy. She remembered a bit of what had happened, or more likely, she remembered feeling she was in danger, so she tried again. She opened them, for an instance and saw nothing. A wall. Light, coming from somewhere, a window perhaps, behind her. An ugly painting on the wall. Where was she? A bed, she was pretty sure she was in a bed. That's how far she got before she fell into unconsciousness again.

When she came to, it was the middle of the night. Her body was still heavy to her, her head a little groggy, but her mind was her own. Yes, she was in a bed, and yes, she was in a room. She tried to sit on the bed, which was a lot more effort than she thought. She didn't even had time to think and panic about what the hell she was doing in a bed because the first thing she saw was Lance Hunter sleeping on a chair, in front of her, still wearing the same shirt and pants as he had at the gala.

Ah, the gala. The memories came back, one by one. The mission, Hunter, the Senator. The champagne. The bathroom.

She sat straight up. 'Hunter?' she tried to speak but barely managed to whisper. She cleared her throat. 'Hunter.'

'What? what's happening?' he asked in his sleep. He opened his eyes and found her awake. 'Bobbi.' He sang her name with relief. He stood up, went to the kitchen, which was to the right and came back with a glass of water. He offered it to her.

She took it and drank. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was. 'What happened?' she asked, voice still raspy. 'How did you…?'

'Hartley called when she couldn't reach you. You were drugged.'

She looked defeated. 'Thank you' she said, no anger, no guilt, no history behind it. Just pure honesty.

He smiled and nodded. He didn't need to answer. 'How do you feel?'

She looked into his eyes again. Those eyes…

'Drowsy. Heavy. Like I've got hit in the head' she half smiled and he laughed at her.

'Hungry?' He offered, as he got up and went to the kitchen once again. He came back with a plate and another glass of water. She took the glass from him and placed it on the nightstand. ' You need to eat, love' he said.

She nodded, reclining her head to the headboard. 'It's no cheeseburger, but it'll have to do' he offered.

She smiled at the memory of their first date, back in London, back when she was working him and he didn't hate her. Back when she didn't care about it.

'Actually, if you don't mind…' she pointed to the bathroom with her head. She was still wearing her gala dress, which was not the most comfortable.

'Go ahead' he said and gave her space, trying to move away from the awkwardness of their unspoken history.

It took a lot of effort to shower, but God was it worth it. He had left some clothes for her on the bed; sweatpants and a loose and ragged 'god save the Queen' t-shirt. She half smiled when she saw it; it wasn't her first time wearing it. It took her a good 30 minutes to be ready.

'How long was I out?' she was playing with her wet hair, making her way back to the bed when Hunter walking in again, sandwich in hand. He stood by the doorframe staring at her; wet blonde hair, his t-shirt, too big for her, letting the curves of her body stand out from underneath it. She realized he was there as she turned, facing him. He was still staring.

She frowned. 'Hunter?'

He came out of trance and took another bite at his sandwich. 'Sorry. About a day, day and half I'd say… Maybe two, I lost track of time'

She stood in front of him, surprised, 'what do you mean two days? and how the hell you lose track of time?!' she moved her hands while she talked

'Excuse me for not checking my watch while trying to get your drugged induced body with a fever of 102 down, while on the run from the authorities probably for starting an international arms conflict, all while being snowed in!' he practically yelled at her.

She stood there, speechless, staring at him. 'I… what?' she really didn't know how to answer to that. 'How the hell did all of that happen? When did all of that happen?! Don't, that was rhetorical' she corrected herself when he was opening his mouth to go again.

She reflected for a moment. Still facing him, she put all of her walls down and dared to look him in the eye. She didn't do this with anyone, but Hunter… She touched his bicep gently. 'Are you okay?'

He gave her a sad smile and stroked her hand. 'I was really scared when you didn't wake up, Bob'. He closed his eyes and pulled her into a hug. 'Don't do that to me again'.

'Hey, it's okay, I'm okay, I'm right here' she said to his neck. They pulled apart, eyes on one another. The second his eyes went to her lips, that was it.

Their lips met, frantically, expectantly, prepared. They gave in, tongues meeting after being apart for so long, longing this moment more than they'd ever admit.

She started peeling off his clothes, all the while trying to keep him close to her. Shirt came off, fast and easy. His own hands were busy at her waist, pinning her to him first, getting her of his sweatpants a second later. They walked backwards to the bed, barely breaking the lips apart. She had her hands between his hair and face, a sensation he loved, when his own trousers came off.

He grabbed her by the ass. She jumped to his waist, kissing him even more deeply. He walked them to the bed and placed her there, gently. He got rid of his boxers and positioned himself on top of her. She grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him, guiding him to her. He touched her body under the T-shirt she was still wearing, and she lost it at that. He stole a kiss that ended with her moan on his throat as he played with her nipples. She broke it off so she could get rid of the remaining clothes.

She sucked a sweet spot by the side of his neck while he had a hand on her nipple and the other inside of her.

'Hunter…' she practically begged when it felt like torture not to have him inside. He happily complied.

It was morning when she woke up again, feeling much better than the day before. It was cold, really cold, but Hunter's body heat was keeping her warm outside and inside. He was still fast asleep when she turned in bed, facing him. His hands were hugging her waist which made her movement a little awkward, but she didn't wanna wake him. He hugged her again in his sleep and she suppressed a smile.

'Morning' he greeted, still half asleep.

'Hey' she smiled. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.'

He laughed. ' You can wake me every day for the rest of my life if it's gonna be like this' he looked down at them, naked, a mix of limbs hugging in bed, giving each other heat on a cold winter. She kissed him.

'Not to ruin your little fantasy, but we need to talk' she said when their lips parted.

'Let's not' Hunter begged. 'Let's say in bed all day and make love and eat chips and be happy. Just you and I, Bob. No SHIELD, no SAS, just us.' he wanted it, he wanted her and he'd never get tired of letting her know.

'Hunter…' she rolled her eyes at him, both still in bed facing each other.

He used an elbow as support for his head. 'I mean it. Let's walk away, right now.'

He stared, right into her eyes, all feeling. She contemplated back, waiting for him to drop a smile, or a pun or a trace of a joke. He didn't.

'Oh my god, you're serious' she realized

He nodded. 'You and me Bob. That's all I need.'

She dropped her mouth, searching for words that didn't come. 'I…' so many things she wanted to say but couldn't. Not here and not now. 'Hunter, I can't just drop everything! And neither can you.'

He sighed in frustration and got out of bed, putting some clothes on in the process.

'Hey, don't walk away from me' Bobbi said, a little louder than her usual tone, standing up in bed, sheet still covering her chest. She searched the floor for her clothes.

She ruffled his hair and faced her, angry now, pointing his index finger in exasperation. 'No, you are walking away from us, Bobbi. Again.' He turned again, giving her his back. Bobbi changed into his t-shirt and sweatpants once more. He felt her touch on his shoulder, and when he turned around, the expression in her eyes was softer and loving.

'So come with me' she offered, and he smiled.