A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay. Here's the next chapter. I'm going to start counting the time like Maya did (expect I'm not heatedly writing it on George's glass with a sharpie, lol), starting at the day they found the compound, just like the movie. Also, if I mention some detail you don't quite remember, it's because it's from the movie script. If you wanna read it too, it can be found in Sony's website. Enjoy!

Day 1

Maya lifted her head as her last coworker in the room started to head home. It was past ten o'clock and she was getting beyond frustrated with the lack of news from Islamabad. She hated to think that her leaving had led to the search for Abu Ahmed to cool down. She knew Jack and the guys would keep going for her, but it wasn't entirely up to them. If only she'd been more careful, she wouldn't have been shot at, wouldn't have needed to leave the country in such a haste.

Leaning back in her chair, she pushes the heels of her hands into her tired eyes. What a shitty day. She'd gotten close to zero sleep last night, having stayed up until four in the morning. Dan had invited her over for raviolis (he was big on Italian food, apparently), but she declined, said she needed sleep, when in reality it was because it would've been the tenth time she went to his place in a twenty day time span, and that somehow freaked her out. Really, at this pace, next thing she knew they'd be living together. So she decided to stay at her own place, but her initial plan to get a good 10 hours sleep foundered prettily, because they ended up talking on the phone all night.

Their relationship was changing, she could tell. Their conversations outside of work had been gradually shifting from professional to personal. They didn't talk so much about the case as they talked about sports, television, things they missed about Pakistan, things they could be doing right now had they never been recruited by the CIA. In the last one, they often were conjured up together: Physicists developing nanotechnology, astronauts exploring the outer space. They chose to ignore the fact that they probably would've never met if it wasn't for UBL and the CIA, because it was selfish, attributing the upside of her life to something that took away the lives of thousands.

She wondered if he had gone home already. If he would call her tonight. Getting up, she walked to the window and sure enough, his car was still in its spot. She hesitated for a moment or two before gathering her things and heading for his office. Maybe they could get a drink somewhere this time, in some place neutral, some place that didn't smell like him, some place where they wouldn't be alone and she wouldn't be tempted to do things she knew she shouldn't. Yeah, a bar sounded like a good idea.

"Hey." He looked up from a report, brow furrowed, mouth twisted in a frown. She suddenly didn't feel so confident.

"Yeah?"

"Are you heading home soon?" He didn't put the report down. She almost told him to forget it.

"Not yet. Why?"

"Do you want to go for a drink?" She blurted it out all in one breath. God, why was her heart beating so fast?

"Like in a date?" He smirked.

"No." It was a knee-jerk reaction. But she could see the quickness of it hurt him. She wanted to fix it, but a date was too much. "No, just drinks after work."

"Do I get to pick the bar?"

"I was thinking about the one down the street, actually. "

"No, all the agents go there." He got up, picked up his suit jacket, stared at her. "My bar or no bar."

"Okay. Your bar."

She tailed his car for a few blocks before they stopped in a square of sorts with bars that actually had tables on the sidewalk. The whole street had a bohemian vibe to it. She let her hair down before meeting him outside of a two-story townhouse that had been turned into a pub. The music was loud even outside, so he inclined his head towards the interior and offered his hand. Hers was shaking when she reached for it.

They went straight to the stairs, his hand so big and warm wrapped around hers she barely registered anything else. He showed her to a stool at the bar, one high enough her feet couldn't reach the floor. She sat, her eyes scanning the surprisingly clan counter top. The music up there was low enough they could talk without yelling, but high enough they had to lean in close to hear each other. He ordered for her, explained himself immediately, like he expected her to call him out on it. She normally would, but not tonight.

"It's irish. I think you'll like it."

"Will I?" She leaned in closer. His eyes made a quick dash to the top of her dress shirt. Less than a second, then they were back at her face, but not fast enough she didn't see it. It didn't bother her. In fact, she felt like smiling. So she did.

"I bet you will." He smiled too. "What?"

"Nothing." She turned to see their beers being served. In pints. Huh. She never tasted a beer she wouldn't drink out of a bottle or can. "That's our drink?"

"Yeah. Cheers." He lifted his pint. She lifted hers.

"Cheers."

The foreign beer turned out not bad at all. Dark, heavy, and richly flavored. They continued to talk and drink until someone changed the song. This one was slow paced, a ballad, but she could distinguish guitar strings. It was good. She never heard it before, but Dan was singing along to it. God, he was handsome. He looked more like when she met him tonight, hair a little disheveled, the top buttons of his white shirt undone, the cuffs up 'till his elbows. He seemed to fit right into this place. Unlike her, always the outcast, even though they were wearing virtually the same outfit. She smirked. Dress shirt and slacks. The irony wasn't lost on her.

"Let's dance."

"What?" She was shaken out of her reverie by that one. Dance?

"Yeah, come on." He was already getting out of his stool.

"No. Absolutely no."

"Why not?"

"I don't dance."

"Bullshit. Everybody dances. Let's go." He grabbed for her hand, gave it a light yank. His other was already reaching for her pint. "I'll lead."

Before she could really think of an acceptable excuse, he was already pulling her to a makeshift dance floor where some couples rocked together to the slow beat of the music. Why did she think a bar was a good idea again?

"Dan, I really don't think this is a good idea."

"Just go with the flow, Maya. Loosen up a bit once in your life."

She was mildly offended by that, but really, when his hands slid around her waist, so strong and sure, all she could do was link her own hands behind his neck. God, this was intimate. She was at eye level with his Adam's apple, their height difference accentuated by their closeness. His scent invaded her senses, made her dizzy. They started rocking slowly to the song. She closed her eyes, trying desperately not to step on his toes, to stay in rhythm, but he was a good dancer, his hands on her waist leading where he wanted her to move. It almost made up for her nonexistent dancing skills, so much that after a while it was easier to relax, let herself be taken over by the music and his body, so close to hers.

"See? I told you. Everybody dances." His voice was low and whispered, so close to her ear his breath tickled her neck. She exhaled, the sensory overload knocking down her stiff control, and nestled her head at the crook of his neck, coming closer still, so much that every contraction of his abdomen muscles reverberated through hers, their legs tangling, the dancing subdued to a slow rocking. She could feel her emotional barriers crumbling.

He felt as if she was a butterfly that had landed on his hand, as if the slightest abrupt movement would scare her away. The warmness of her skin seeped through her shirt, burned his palms. He couldn't believe she was in his arms, her body molded into his, her scent surrounding him.

His heart was beating wildly, so tight with barely repressed longing. He was trying to hold himself back from doing something stupid such as kissing her, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of her embrace, the rightness of it. It was almost impossible to resist. And she was the one who came closer, leaned her face on his shoulder. Her hand was fiddling with the hairs at the back of his neck, making him get goose bumps all the way to his hands. This was torture.

He leaned down, turned his head to the side, his lips barely touching her jaw. Her movements faltered, but she didn't pull away. He needed more of a confirmation, though, couldn't risk misinterpreting her signs, ruin this fragile thing they've been carefully building.

"Maya."

"Dan." She anchored herself to his neck, pressing their bodies together as she got to her tiptoes, all of her so close now that he couldn't resist her even if he tried. Her response was soft, whispered, not even a sentence, but it said all he needed to know.

"Oh, Maya..."

He ran his hand up her back, his nose buried in her hair, mouth pressed hard against the soft skin bellow her ear, could feel the shiver that ran violently through her body all the way down his own. He gripped the back of her neck, pulled away to connect her mouth to his -

Then her phone, trapped in her front pocket between their bodies, started to vibrate. She pulled away, eyes wide, cheeks flaming, as if she'd gotten ripped out of some kind of trance. Damn it.

"I... I gotta take this." And as she disappeared towards the bathroom, he was left there standing alone, embarrassment eating at his insides, thinking about this fucking phone call that blew their moment into pieces. He had to fix this.

He went after her, planning to apologize, even though he wasn't sorry at all. But he would do whatever it was necessary to mitigate the damages this whole night could cause to their relationship. He just hoped she didn't shut him out, went back to her shell. Turning around the corner, though, he was confronted with a vision he didn't expect at all: A beaming Maya talked on the phone, eyes closed, almost jumping off the floor in excitement. He was stunned, never having seen her so happy about anything. His curiosity got the better of him and he came closer, trying to hear what she was saying.

"Don't fuck with me... Are you sure?... Holy shit... Yeah, I'm on my way... Thanks, Jack, you're the best!"

Jack. It was all clear now. Clear as the fucking blue sky. Jack. He couldn't believe it. She'd got to be shitting him. You've got. to be. fucking. shitting me, Maya.

She turned, so happy, almost running into a very angry looking Dan. Her smile faded. What happened?

"Listen, I gotta go back. Just got a call from Islam-"

"Was that Jack?" He'd never addressed her in such a rude way. She suddenly felt like one of his interrogation subjects.

"Yeah! They found the compound, Dan! They just found it!" She smiled again, finally she could move forward with her investigation, but Dan didn't seem to get it.

"Do you miss him?" What the hell?

"What? Did you listen to what I just said? They found the compound!"

"It's a simple question, Maya. Do you miss Jack?" She didn't have time to do this. She had to go back to the station right now.

"Hell, of course I miss Jack. He's my friend. Where is this coming from?"

"Is he? Your friend? The way you and I are friends?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She didn't like the tone of this conversation at all.

"You know what? Forget it. It's none of my business." He turned to leave, but she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easy. He started it, he would finish it.

"What exactly is none of your business?" She stalked closer, eyes strained on him. "What are you saying here, Dan?" He exploded.

"Do you ever wonder what I had to go through to get you that fucking number, Maya? The shit I had to put up with? Or did you think the Wolf would just hand me over a Lamborghini's worth of taxpayers' money, no favors asked?" He was livid now. "But I did it anyway, didn't I? Moved heaven and earth." His smile was cynical. "Did I get a phone call? A smile? A fucking text saying 'Thank you, Dan'?"

Guilt struck her. She remember being so excited when she went to work that morning and found a team already working on the phone calls, so eager to get down to business, it went right over her head. But of course she was thankful. She never took his efforts for granted.

"Dan, I-"

"Shut up, Maya, don't try to make some lame excuse for what's right under our noses." Her anger rose again, skyrocketed. Who the fuck did he think he was to tell her to shut up? "You think I don't know what's going on between you two? Huh? You think I'm stupid?" He waited a beat. "I'm tired of your little game. I'm fucking tired of being kept at arms length while good ol'Jack gets the golden treatment, even when he is a fucking ocean away and I'm right here." Some drunk customer stumbled his way past them. They continued to stare at each other. "But you know what, Maya? Have it your way. Fuck whoever you want. I don't give a shit. But you're not going to manipulate me to get what you want anymore."

Maya stared at him, outraged. What kind of girl did he think she was? She wanted to explain, tell him she and Jack were just friends, always have been, but the furious side of her wanted to hurt him as much as he was hurting her. So she pushed past him, making a bee line for the stairs, then her car. The only way she could forget this whole fucking mess of a night was burying herself in work. She looked through her rear view mirror as she sped off towards the headquarters. He hadn't followed her.

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. She was fighting hard to stay on top of her emotions, but her eyes burned with unshed tears. Damn him, he should know better. After all the time they've known each other, he should fucking know better. But she deserved it, didn't she? Was paying the price for letting her guard down. She didn't know what she was thinking, what had possessed her to think this -them- could actually happen.

But it didn't matter now. She had a bigger task at hand. It didn't matter.

She wondered how many times she would have to repeat it before she would start to believe it.