Dylan wasn't an idiot. He was well aware that, at times, he could be a bit naive. He even knew that he didn't function like any other human being, and, by default, had actually trouble understanding their actions, at times. Yes, he knew the human mind, but just because he knew that some kind of person was more willingly to act in a certain way, it didn't mean that he would know everything about everyone.

Besides, he had been told he had a blind spot.

The people he loved, he cared about, his family – not by blood, but by choice.

Lizzie had started acting weird lately. She had even been more open to bending the rules for the greater good. But that wasn't his main concern; Dylan suspected this to be a mere symptom of something bigger, something actually worse. She was being evasive and secretive, and he knew for a fact that she had been lying to him in a few occasions. She had a secret, something she either didn't want him to know or something she was ashamed of.

Knowing her, Dylan opted immediately for option number 1: she was probably worried for his safety, as he wasn't an agent like her. It wouldn't have been the first time it had happened. It was stupid, because Dylan wasn't an idiot and used to be a very damn good operative back in his CIA days, but he kind of got it.

It was sweet, really – rather annoying, but sweet nevertheless.

The former CIA operative turned professor turned writer turned police consultant had tried to vent his frustrations with his closest allies, but to no avail; Andy had been listening to him, focusing on some sport event on TV or the books of his beloved bar, and Julian, well, his trusted former colleague had actually dismissed the whole thing – or maybe he had dismissed Dylan altogether and Dylan was too nice of a person to actually see it.

There was only one thing both Andy and Julian agreed on: whatever Lizzie was dealing with, Dylan better stay out of it. Not because it wasn't his business, but because it was right to allow Lizzie to deal with whatever she was dealing with in her own time. Eventually, she would have told him, they both agreed on.

But Dylan, despite having been a very talented operative, had never been too good at following orders, especially when it came to things and people he cared about and he valued – besides, he knew that secrets could be dangerous, that they could get people killed, and if he could save Lizzie, so be it. She would have been mad, but in due time, she would have understood, and came to forgive her consultant.

That was why he was following her, as she was some kind of third rate criminal and not a very honest coop.

She was dressed with the plainest clothes she owed, dark, and was looking around as scared she would have been followed. The neighbourhood wasn't one of the nicest either, and calling seedy the motel (the motel – has anything good ever happened in a motel, for God's sake?) she was entering was probably a euphemism.

She was working some secret op. She just had to. Dylan wouldn't have been able to handle a betrayal otherwise – and his stupidity and ingenuity, his blindness.

He was pacing in front of the door, wondering what he was supposed to do – breaking in or entering, that is the question – when fate answered for him.

He heard Lizzie's scream, and then a noise he decided had to be a commotion. It was an op, he decided in the blink on an eye, and Lizzie had been discovered, and now she was in danger – and alone.

He was her only back-up. He had to save her. If nothing else, to ask for her forgiveness for having even just contemplated the idea that she could have betrayed him and what she stood for.

Gun in hand, he kicked the door open with a single powerful hit, identifying himself as "police", and pointing his loaded and trusted gun in the general direction of where Lizzie's scream had come from.

Only, Lizzie wasn't with an assailant, nor was she mortally injured or wounded or anything like that.

Nope. Lizzie was indeed on the ground – but she was naked, trapped in tangled sheets and… and in the company of…

Dylan gasped and turned around, closing his eyes as he tried to will the very graphic image away – he was going to be scarred for life, despite everything he had seen back with the CIA.

At his back, Dylan heard muffled sounds – zippers and clothes and things moved in haste, and then Lizzie finally cleared her voice – and Dylan just knew she was blushing, by listening to the sound of her voice.

"Ok, we're dressed; I think you can turn now." He did, and Dylan saw Lizzie, arms crossed over her chest as to protect herself from his scrutiny, her eyes wandering for the room and doing their best to not meet his. She was biting hr lips, and it killed him, it really did, to think that she thought that he would have judged her, for this.

He would have never done that, not to her at least. Her lover, on the other hand…

"Dylan, mate, I can explain…" Julian said, looking way too calm for his own good, and for someone who had been caught with his naked ass in the air – literally.

Dylan just lifted a perfect eyebrow. "Oh, so you can explain what Lizzie and you were doing, naked in bed together? I may have never slept with a woman, but I'm pretty sure I got it."

"Dylan, whatever he says, don't listen to him – Lizzie interfered, putting herself between the two men – it's my fault. I kind of… jumped him when he said that…" She suddenly blushed of the reddest shade Dylan had ever seen on a human being, and cleared her throat. Her focus was on her feet and her feet alone, and Julian was actually grinning – but not of his usual cat got the canary grin, it was more focused, sweeter. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her, and he was beaming.

If he hadn't been like that himself with Andy, Dylan would have probably vomited.

Julian cleared his throat himself, and, hands joined at his back, and looked straight before himself, at Dylan. "Couple of months ago, Lizzie came to me to… thank me for my services… my help in her last case. And I may have revealed her my feelings in a very roundabout way."

Dylan snickered, weaving his hand in the air, suddenly remembering that he was still armed when his eyes fell on the gun – and he kind of understood why they were walking on eggshells- he was pointing a gun at them, for God's sake!

Dylan looked around, a bit ashamed, very embarrassed, as he fumbled with his gun, putting it away and trying to pretend it had never happened to begin with. "I'm sorry Julian, but do you honestly expect me to believe that you've suddenly developed feelings – that you are in love – with a woman you've seen a big total of what, three times?"

But Dylan shook his head. "I didn't fell for Lizzie by meeting her. Trust me, mate – she had me wrapped around her little finger long before I sat eyes on her. Everything you've been telling me about her- that had me smitten. Meeting her was just the proverbial last drop."

Dylan tightened his teeth, more out of annoyance than real rage, and Lizzie again decided to come between her two men. "C'mon Dylan, you told me yourself that I had to bend the rules a little and follow my instinct. A man tells me he had fallen for me just because of what his best friend told him about me – what I was supposed to do? Of Course I jumped to the occasion! Besides, he is your best friend – I told myself that he couldn't be that bad, and guess what? I was right! "

Dylan huffed, pouting as he was a child, an action that made Julian roll his eyes. It had always amazed him, how someone so childish at times could have been one of the CIA's finest. "Still, you could have told me. But you didn't. And you know why? It's because, dep down, you knew there was something wrong with this!"

Julian rolled his eyes again – an action he had often performed in the years at Dylan's side – and groaned in protest. "No, you idiot – we didn't tell you anything not because we thought we were doing something wrong, but because we knew that you are a childish and immature grown-up infant unable to share his toys!"

"What? It's not true! I just want what's best for Lizzie!"

"She's not your sister, not your mother, definitely not your wife – you have no right to decide who or what is better for her!"

"And you do?!"

"I love her!"

"Well, I do too, maybe not like you, but I love her, like she was family, and as her friend, I think she should at least hear me out!"

The two men kept taking small steps towards each other. They came face to face, pointing accusing fingers at each other, screaming in each other's face – acting as she wasn't even there to begin with, or the discussion wasn't about her at all.

"SHE'D LIKE TO SPEAK HER MIND, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!" She screamed, grinning as she got their attention. "Good. Now, where were we? Right – I can make my own decisions, all right? Dylan, I love you – and I'll always hear you out, but you can't, you just can't tell me what I can or cannot do. It's not right. I suffered a lot – I deserve to be happy, and Julian makes me happy – a lot. I can't see what the future holds, but, Dylan, let me do this. Please. " And both of you, please stop acting like two twelve years olds… She mentally added. She didn't voice it, though; it would have been pointless, as she had done such a point plenty of times.

Dylan sighed, and shook his head. He knew he would have listened not her – if nothing else, to give Lizzie the chance of being happy. "Fine, but if you break her heart or this is just a game for you, I'll follow you even to the moon and make you suffer. And, as you remember all too well, I was very talented in my line of work."

Julian laughed, fully. "Sorry, mate, but as I remember it? I did teach you every trick of the trade. So, trust me, if there's one of us who'll have the better hand, that's gonna be me!"