She was going to have to break things off. Every day, she got deeper and deeper and there was no way it was going to end well. He was too perfect – funny, smart, handsome, intoxicating. They were in the living area of her apartment when she tried to just rip off the Band-Aid, "Nick, I don't think we should see each other anymore." He had been looking at the photos on her mantle. He stilled and faced her with slow deliberation.

"Why?"

He'd been punched in the gut. Her words cut through him, leaving a gaping wound that came out of the blue. She'd given no sign that she wasn't all in. He would have sworn that she felt the same way he had. And yet, here she was, telling him she was done. The words just didn't make sense.

She began to pace when he asked why. She was positively leaking energy, a ball of nerves that was visible to even the most unpracticed eye. He hoped it wasn't wishful thinking that left him with the conviction that she did not really mean what she was saying. He wanted to pull her into his arms until she explained what was going on, but he held his stance. She'd get no pressure from him.

She stopped mid-turn in her pacing and spoke in such hurried words that they ran together. "You don't understand. I'm not special. I'm not unusual or exceptional. You are wonderful; kind and strong, funny and smart. You are practically a magnet to me."

"You're right. I don't understand." What in the ever loving hell was the matter? She was making no sense. He walked toward her slowly, not wanting to spook her when she was clearly riled up. "You are more than exceptional." He brushed an errant hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger before he drew them back.

Her response was shaky. "No." Her eyes pleaded with him. "You're going to wake up someday soon and be released from whatever it was that first drew you to me, but it will be too late for me. I'm already losing the battle. Too much longer, and I don't know if I'll come out of this whole."

He grasped the problem. Fear. She was afraid that he was going to hurt her. That he would walk away and leave her to deal with whatever pieces remained. "Mi alma, I am not going anywhere. You have enchanted me; I want only to be with you." He had stepped closer to her as he spoke, ending with a whisper against her lips.

She shivered as she felt his breath against face. She should keep her resolve and end this, but she could not. Falling into his eyes, she leaned the tiniest bit and kissed him. The kiss was tentative at first, a question in and of itself. He responded to her light caress with equally light pressure. He was letting her decide how far she went. He was putting her on a pedestal that she would eventually fall from, but she would have to deal with that later. Now, all she wanted was more. She stepped into him, raising her arms to place her hands on the back of his neck as she opened her mouth to nibble on his lip.

The feel of her teeth scrape across his bottom lip, combined with her hands in his hair quickened the pace of his heart and left blood pounding in his ears. He deepened their kiss, exploring her mouth. He intended to maintain control – he needed her to see that he would follow her lead. As he mentally set himself that goal, he failed. A pleasured hum escaped her, ratcheting the coil in his belly. The room was divided from the kitchen by a wall clear of any decoration. He stepped them toward it, pressing into her full length as he devoured her mouth. Her responses were warm and golden, honey to his parched throat. She appeared about to protest when he took his mouth from hers, but let a low moan when his kisses moved down to the point where her neck met her collarbone.

In that moment, they caught alight. The fire that burned between them, something that he knew would be there but which had been smoldering under the surface up to this point. She arched toward him, encouraging him to continue and he did, covering every inch of her beautiful neck and tasting those full lips once more.

He stopped momentarily, rasping, "Mi vida, I could no more walk away from you than I could stop breathing."

She sighed into his mouth, "Take me to bed." He stilled, no longer kissing her and no longer letting his hands wander. Here it was; she'd gone too far, too soon. She couldn't back away from him with the wall behind her and she couldn't take the words back. So, she closed her eyes, waiting for him to speak.

"Are you sure?" His voice was low, strained. Her eyes flew open. She'd thought – but no, his eyes burned with passion. He didn't want to stop; he wanted to make sure that she wanted him. "Yes," the word whispered from her as she leaned in to kiss his neck.

"Where?" Again, his voice was thick, his accent sending chills throughout her.

"Down this hallway, to the right." She'd barely said the last word when he scooped her into his arms and carried her to her room. Ever so carefully, he laid her on the bed, kneeling as she grabbed at his shirt from a sitting position and pulled him closer.

Nick's cellphone rang while she slept. He answered it, hearing that the team needed him to come in to assist with a new case. He looked at his beautiful woman, almost aching to wake her to see that wondrous smile before he left. He let her sleep, though, leaving a note instead for her to find.

"Was called to the field. Will be thinking of you, the smell of your hair and the taste of your lips. I leave my heart with you while I am away."

She woke in the late morning to an empty bed. She'd reached for him, but he was gone. Her mind began to spiral when she saw the folded paper by her nightstand. She read it, smiling. She didn't know where this would end, but she was too far gone to care right now. She was going to enjoy the ride while she was on it.