Kayla was asleep on the bed, face down. They had spent a passionate night together and Eliot smiled at the memory. He'd been up early, checked in with the team, and then showered and changed. He had come back into the bedroom and paused. Kayla was lovely. He'd been a kid slightly infatuated with her. Then, as he worked with her, he'd been struck by her wit…her skills. He genuinely enjoyed every moment he spent with her. As he stared, he realized the sheet had slipped giving Eliot an unobstructed view of a smooth, muscular back marred by a jagged scar that ran a good four inches down her right shoulder. He sat down gently on the bed and reached out; absently tracing the mark…a mark he had given her.

She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily up at her former partner. He quickly apologized, "I didn't mean to wake you."

Kayla ignored the apology and answered instead, "You know, it doesn't hurt. Not anymore that is."

He had the decency to look chagrined. Spencer had contemplated all during his morning routine what he would say. He plunged ahead, "Reconsider, Kayla. Work with Nate and me to bring Dominguez down. You know we're a team to be reckoned with when we work together."

Logan turned over, dragging the sheet with her to keep herself covered. As she sat up, she responded, "You don't get it, do you, Eliot? This is not just some mission for me. It's my job…my livelihood."

He countered, "This isn't you, Kayla. You never did the wet work."

"Well, I had to learn, didn't I?" Her tone was caustic.

"And whose fault was that?" Eliot got more forceful.

"Yours," she all but yelled.

He answered disbelieving, "Mine?" The look on his face mirrored his tone, "And I guess I shot myself?"

"No, but," she hesitated before answering, "you sure as hell brought it on yourself." When he cocked his head questioningly, Kayla explained, "Our bosses thought you were losing your edge…that you were becoming a liability."

He glared at her through narrowed eyes, "What are you saying?"

"Just what you think I'm saying. I was ordered to take you out, Eliot," her tone was emotionless. "And, when I failed, they tried to take me out." She shrugged, "But, then you managed to prove them wrong over the next several years. Getting bolder, taking even riskier assignments. But, then, working for the likes of Moreau?" His lips moved but he didn't speak. Kayla was harsh, "Think I don't know what you were doing? But the question was why? Why would you work for a monster like that? What was it? Penitence? Trial by fire?" She snapped her fingers, her tone getting more biting…more sarcastic, "No, I know. If someone else killed you then, so be it. You could die with a clear conscience."

"You don't know a damn thing, Kayla. And, I warn you, tread lightly," Spencer's voice was deadly but Kayla ignored it.

"I know more than you think and I see even more than that," Logan said as she edged to the side of the bed, keeping the sheet wrapped around her. He stood with her as Kayla continued, "You've changed, Eliot. This man," she gestured dismissively toward him, "This man is the one the bosses saw. The one who doesn't like guns. The one who would rather incapacitate instead of eliminate. But, that's not me, Eliot. Not now." Kayla continued arrogantly, "I'm good at this. When I take an assignment, it gets done. It's more than my reputation. It's my word. And you know what that means to me."

"Yeah," he answered exasperated, "you never go back on your word." As she nodded, Eliot knew this battle was finished.

She walked up next to him and said condescendingly, "But, it's okay, Eliot, you tried. You've done your good deed and tried to save me. Go in peace. I absolve you of any responsibility."

He leaned into her personal space and locked eyes. "You've always been a hardass but I never considered you a bitch. Don't start now."

Kayla clenched her jaw and responded coldly, "I need to get dressed."

Eliot answered just as coldly, "Yeah, you do." And he shouldered past her, leaving the room.

Logan went to the bureau drawer and pulled out undergarments which she quickly donned. Then, she untaped the hypos. Going to the closet, she knew she needed to get Spencer back in the bedroom and Kayla knew how. He might not like to admit it but Spencer was a knight who liked nothing better than taking care of a damsel in distress. As she opened the door, she grabbed for the suitcase letting it fall and called out. Like a shot, he was back in the room, "Kayla? You okay?"

She made a face, rubbing her shoulder where it had hit, "Yeah, just…stupid. I should have seen it."

Spencer picked up the case and put it back on the closet shelf. "We probably dislodged it when we searched the room." She stood aside expecting him to pass but he stopped instead. He put an arm around her and pulled her close, "Look, I'm sorry."

She returned the hug. "No, Eliot, I pushed you. I'm the one who's sorry. Truly," and as she spoke, Kayla jammed one of the syringes into the fleshy part of his neck. Spencer tried to get out of the embrace but the sedative was fast-acting and he knew it. He dropped to his knees and his eyes rolled back in his head. She kept him from hitting face first on the floor.

Kayla had heard Eliot check in before he'd left the bed to shower. She figured she had around an hour to an hour and a half before they would start searching for her. She quickly gathered a few things and removed the facing of the large air return vent. Kayla spared a glance for Eliot, a twinge of conscience troubling her. She shook it off and quickly left the room, returning the grate to cover her escape.