Just a filler chapter…

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Princess finally understood what it was that drove Jason like he did. There was something mildly energizing about calling upon vengeance to help accomplish a task. Even as she crossed into her fourth day with no sleep she found herself wide-eyed and conscious enough to completely concentrate on her task.

Sure there were vast amounts of coffee and Guarana chewing gum involved, but the sheer push from deep inside her belly made sure that there were no slips in the fingers on her keyboard or moments of distraction from thoughts of anything besides … well besides the hacking into the FBI database.

She popped a seventh piece of gum into her mouth and stretched the wad with her tongue as she let her eyes sweep between the three monitors she had set up at her desk. To her right she had the AFIS computer program searching its database for a match to the print she'd lifted from her belt. It was his -- this she knew for a fact. While she was accosted and held down by five men, he was the only one who actually tugged off her belt. He was also the one who threw it back at her when he demanded she redress. She had the match parameters set high, seeking a 10-point match, rather than the forensically accepted 6 to 8 point. She didn't want to have to worry about several almost-matches. This would take much longer to work through the system, but she had a perfect full print, so the wait would be worth it. So far she'd had several hits from open cases, but nothing to give an identity of the owner.

The middle monitor was displaying a black screen with green code. It wasn't scrolling through with the typical speed Princess might have used, but with she scanning through three different programs, this was more manageable. The monitor to her left was hooked up to the Federation systems. Nearly 24 hours ago she had couriered a couple of small biological samples for analysis. She was waiting for the forensic teams at Neptune to upload the results for her.

It never occurred to her that Anderson had yet to phone her on it. Whenever she accessed the Federation databases from her own personal computer, her lines were immediately flagged and her security access limited. This particular access was hiccup free with no real need for sneaky tactics to find what she needed. Anderson must have known she would try this – she had done so previously after a particularly emotionally draining mission – so he was giving her the leeway knowing she'd never move beyond the investigative process.

Sometimes she just needed to know. She wasn't necessarily the vindictive and vengeful type, so to act on the information she found was improbable in the eyes of the Federation Security chief. It was also somewhat improbably to she, too, but she wanted to know why this guy was so important that Mark wouldn't even bring him in to allow justice to be served.

Mark.

Well. That anger had quelled somewhat. She had yet to feel bad for striking him back at Neptune, but she no longer wanted to follow through with the second hit. He was only doing what he had to. Mark had his nasty streaks here and there, but he was always the one to make sure the villains were brought to justice via the nation's judicial system rather than at the hands of the pissed off G-Force members. He was their level head when the energies of the fight were pushing them away from their common sense. Their prisoners did tend to offer up information to aid in the progression of the G-Force defences, so Mark was right … for the most part.

This was different, though. Mark didn't bring him in for questioning. He didn't allow the local enforcement teams to arrest them. He just … let him go. No questions, no threats, no second thought – not even a hard punch across the face. Just "off you go and thanks for holding my team mate in captivity and trying to kill her".

The anger rose to an annoying tickle in her belly as she recalled how easily he let him go. In time she'd forgive her Commander for it. Possibly the next time he gave her that wounded-puppy-dog look and softly called her name again.

She actually let out a short groan at her weakness for the blue-eyed leader of her team as she tipped back her Tim Horton's coffee cup to drain a mouthful of the acrid smelling remnants of her last coffee. When no liquid touched at her tongue, she brought the cup to her eyes and squinted into it as if seeking out even a small drop.

"Ugh," she moaned loudly as she stood and used the backs of her knees to push the chair back. "Time for another coffee run."

She took a last look at the monitors to ensure that they were still working the systems and then wandered on bare feet down stairs. She slowed her pace as she heard the cheer of Keyop as he tackled the latest game on his Nintendo Wii, but quickened back to her usual pace realizing that he probably wouldn't even notice her there.

She treaded quietly and smiled in victory as she crept by unnoticed. She kept her eyes on the back of Keyop's head as she walked past toward the kitchen. He was playing Guitar Hero. She'd be able to make as much noise as possible – he wouldn't notice her at all. The fluttering in her belly ceased and a smile spread across her face as relief kicked in.

It wasn't until she turned her focus back to the kitchen door that she found her victory in solitude shattered by the one man she really didn't want to see.

"Mark," she breathed with far more hostility than she intended as she stepped around him to walk toward the coffee machine.

"You're still mad." It was a half-question and half-statement.

"No."

"Yes you are." That time it was a full statement of fact.

She shook her head but didn't look back at him. "No, Mark. I'm hurt and I still can't squash this feeling I have that you betrayed me, but I'm not mad. Not anymore." She set her mug on the counter and absently wiped her hand through some spilled sugar. She slowly raised her eyes to him and tilted her head guiltily to one side when she caught sight of a purple bruise on his cheek and over his eye. "I'm sorry."

He made to take a step toward her, but seemed to catch himself to instead lean on a hip inside the doorway. "No need to apologize, Princess. I understand."

"That doesn't make it right, though, Commander." She turned to the coffee machine and debated upon whether or not to make a fresh pot, or to make do with the current brew. "You didn't deserve that."

"No, but you deserved to get it out." He watched her sweep her eyes across to him and offered her a smile. "It's not like Jason hasn't done it before."

"It looks painful."

He shrugged a shoulder. "It hurts enough to make sure I won't do anything to upset you ever again."

Princess set her focus on the coffee pot. A fresh pot would make sure she had to stand inside this discussion longer than necessary so she made do with pouring herself a cup of the old stuff. "I'm sorry, Mark. Honest. It won't happen again."

His brow flicked as she pivoted on a foot and began to walk toward him. The fact she wouldn't meet his gaze as she blew the steam from the mug indicated she was ready to just walk past and end the conversation. He wasn't going to let her walk off before he knew she was okay.

"Princess," he tried as he stepped in front of her to block her exit. "I think we need to talk."

Her eyes moved up, but refused to meet his gaze. She focused on his bruising instead. "Not right now, Mark. I have some work to get through."

"Yes," he insisted softly as he took the mug from her hands. He noticed her longing and desperate look and pursed lip expression as she watched the mug be set on the counter.

"Don't take my coffee."

"For my own safety I think it's best you don't have it in your hands."

Her eyes shot up to his. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head as his answer and leaned his rump against the edge of the counter. He folded his arms across his chest and loosely crossed his legs at the ankle. "You didn't visit med or the shrink before you left the base yesterday."

"Is this what your visit is about; to reprimand me for not seeking medical or psychological attention?" She couldn't help but sound a little irritated. "I didn't think it was necessary."

"It's protocol."

Her eyes rolled and she took a deep breath. "I have my own methods of therapy, Mark. I don't exactly want to have to rehash the whole ordeal to the doctors, nurses and shrink."

His pressed his lips tightly together and gave a nod of understanding. "What about me, then? Can you sit and talk through it with me?"

"Depends," she asked with a smirk. "Do you want to get hurt again?"

His eyes steeled. "I'm not playing, Princess. I can hold off the masses at Neptune if you agree to speak with me about it."

"Then lie."

He shook his head and tightened the cross of his arms against his chest. "I won't lie, Princess. That isn't how we do things in G-Force. I will back you up and come to your defence, but I will not lie just to make them and you happy."

"Not even if it means protecting me?"

He shook his head. "Protecting you means doing the right thing, Princess. Lying does the exact opposite. I need to know that you're okay for me to send you back out there again, not bullshit about it and drag you out while you're still in pain."

She let out a long breath. "Please, Mark. I just can't do it right now. Give me some time to work it out in my own mind before I leave myself at the mercy of the shrinks."

"Prin…" He let the word hang. He wanted to let her be, but he knew he had to press her to seek help.

Princess could see his inner battle and took a step forward hoping that she might have some power over him to let her do what she felt she needed. "Please, Mark."

He watched her approach and felt his entire body soften in imminent acceptance to her every need. "I just need to know you're okay. I'm worried about you."

She knew victory was close and took a final step to close the distance between them. Without seeking permission she threaded her arms around his waist and nestled her head underneath his chin. "I promise you that I'm okay. If I'm going to fall apart, you'll be the first to know."

At first he wasn't sure how he should respond. In all their years together she'd never come to him for an affectionate or reassuring hug. She'd thrown herself at him in relief on the command deck of the Phoenix when she thought he'd been killed once or twice, but never had she openly sought out genuine affection. He let his arms loosen from their grip across his chest and let them hover unsurely either side of her before he succumbed and returned her hold. "Promise me that and I'll see if I can hold off the medical teams at base."

She nestled in closer to him and nodded against his chest. "I promise you."

He dropped his face to lean his cheek against her hair and tightened his hold. It surprised him how comfortable this felt. Half of his mind told him never to let go, while the rational side told him to back away … fast. Before he could pull away, she gave him a gentle push to back lightly away from him.

"Thank you," she whispered genuinely. "I really needed that."

He looked down at her, still somewhat reluctant to release his hold. "I guess we can call this talking about it, right?"

She smiled with an innocently guilty blush. "Best therapy in the world." As if in afterthought, she rolled up to her toes and bushed her lips against his bruises. "I'm sorry I hit you."

He fought back the urge to turn into her to seek another, this time real, kiss. "You're forgiven," he whispered as she pulled herself from his hold.

She tucked her hair over her ear and looked shyly to the floor. "Oh, I should probably apologise for that too. I don't know what came …"

"I'd take that over a hit to the face any day." He interrupted with absolute honesty.

She smiled and opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the shrill call of her cellphone. She removed it from her robe pocket and juggled it in her hands excitedly before she found the means to open it. "Princess Ander … Craig! Hi!"

"Craig?" Mark questioned curiously with more jealousy than a Commander should feel. Her whole demeanour seemed to change from shy and tired to suddenly beaming and energized. "Is he your…?"

She grinned and covered the receiver. "From Forensics. He's our DNA specialist."

"DNA?"

Princess' attention immediately returned to the call, basically ignoring the fact Mark was in the same room.

"Craig. Be my hero and tell me you have something for me."

Mark watched with furrowed brows as she practically skipped out of the room and up the stairs. The question of why Princess was looking for DNA results immediately rushed any jealous thoughts from his head. They had no need to be looking at any forensic analysis – that wasn't what they did.

Just what was his third up to?