Here's chapter 4. Sorry for the delay. I'm still working over the next chapter so it may take a good while before I update again. There isn't action in this one, but I hope everyone will enjoy it just the same. The action will start next chapter.

Thank you for the reviews; they're very much appreciated :)

---still looking for a beta!

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As she finished setting all locks on her door, including the safety chain, she turned to Jason who was splitting his stare between her and the door. She shrugged and placed her keys on the table next to the door and felt like she should explain herself, even though she knew with him there was no reason to. "I feel safer this way." Not that it'd make much different when push came to shove, but the false sense of security eased her mind enough to allow her to sleep.

She crossed her arms over her chest, stepping further into the room. She may have felt safer with all the locks, but with Bourne in there with her she felt somehow exposed. He stood just inside the door, his eyes scanning the apartment quickly, thoroughly, and she realized that with Jason now standing on her doorway just how bare her small apartment really was. Clean and barren and utilitarian, blank walls devoid of any photographs. Nothing inside was hers. It wasn't a home, just a place to stay.

He didn't seem to notice, but stepped closer to her, uninterested in the four standard white walls surrounding them. Handing her a sheet of paper, Nicky silently held it, unfolding it slowly and with a look she realized it was a print out, an extermination file with their faces on it. She brought it closer to her face to read. The first thing she noticed was how outdated her picture was while she didn't recognize Jason's.

"They came after me first," he said, and her attention was moved from the file in her hands to his face. "Maybe they hadn't been able to find you, or they didn't try at all, wanting to use me to go after you. I don't know."

They should have known better than to keep sending people after him, Nicky thought. Every single person ever sent to take down Jason Bourne had ended up seriously injured or dead.

Except for you, a small voice whispered inside her head but she wasn't in the right mind to dwell in it. She was grateful she was still alive and wanted to let it rest at that.

She handed the print out back to him. She was shaking, not visibly, just that little amount that let you know you're not exactly in control, not enough for others to notice, but she was certain Jason would. And she was so grateful he had come that she didn't care what kind of circumstance it was that made him come. He had come and at that moment running away didn't sound so bad.

In a second all the resentment and anger she had felt towards him gave into the blow of guilty that started to consume her.

"I was going to leave soon," she said, walking into her bedroom straight to the desk where her computer was currently laying and started to unplug it. Her back to him and her hands busy seemed to be all she needed right now. She closed her eyes in a silent relief and leaned onto the desk, letting the weight vanish from her chest.

Just having him there, just his presence was enough to give her a reason to face another day. There was something to do, something to achieve, and she was suddenly back all those years when the consequences didn't matter because he was there; because they were there. The realization left her angry, almost frightened. She hated herself for it.

"I have been watching you for a couple of days."

The proximity of his voice and the words he spoke made her jump, turn in a fast motion to face him and even while his voice had been close she hadn't realized how close he had actually come. He was standing in the doorway, but with her desk placed right next to the door it meant he was only two steps away from her, which was close to zero in her book because after so long any proximity at all was enough to send every cell on her body in alert, screaming, screaming, screaming.

Then it all gave away to anger as the meaning of his words sank in. "Two days?" He had been watching her for two freaking days, all the time making her feel as if something was off, scaring her half to death thinking that now someone had finally caught up to her and he didn't have the nerve to let her know.

"I had to be sure no one else had found you."

They faced each other for several seconds as Nicky digested his words and decided if what she went through had been worth it. Then she looked away as the momentary anger refused to subdue and started gathering the wires she had unplugged with more force than necessary.

If they were clear she wondered if they had time to sit down for a while, if he had eaten like a human being, if he'd like to rest a little before going back on the run, drink a cup of coffee, or if they had to move at all immediately.

They.

It was like a reflex. It had been 'them' for so long that even after three years without him she couldn't let go of the notion. It was as natural and essential as breathing. It was the automatic response from someone that never had to assume either of them was included because it just was as it was. And suddenly the prospect of her being left alone again was frightening and she hated the feeling and the anticipation of knowing.

Did he come here to just warn her or did he come here to take her?

"Would you like something to drink? Eat?" She felt like she was 21 again and they were in her apartment for the first time and she needed to make conversation because she just didn't know how to act around him because all she wanted to do was rip his clothes off and kiss him senseless and forget she wasn't supposed to be even thinking about things like these.

"We have to leave soon."

"Okay." She nodded and mentally cursed herself for seeming so eager and relieved. "How soon?"

"Tonight." He pulled up the sleeve of his sweater and checked his watch. "If you have anything else you need to pack you should do it now."

She nodded again and the silence that fell over them was full of tension and words left unsaid and memories from the past that meant different things to each. She watched his face as he watched hers, as both of them wanted to say something but didn't know what could be said. Nicky tore her eyes away first, fidgeting nervously with the wires in her hands.

Hesitantly she moved to her closet and grabbed a small bag from the top shelf. Zipping the wires in one of the pockets, she went back to her laptop and put it inside the bag.

"Make yourself at home." She said, noticing Jason was still standing and watching as she moved around. His eyes on her that had once been a motive of pleasure were now making her nervous.

In five minutes she had grabbed everything she needed –laptop, a change of clothes and some other smaller necessities- and went to the living room, finding Jason staring out of the window, through a small crack on the curtain he had pulled open.

"I'm all set," she said, her voice almost echoing in the silent apartment.

"You did well."

His head turned to hers, brown eyes on blue. Her brows came together in confusion at what he really meant. He sucked at making conversation. As usual.

But he shook his head and was silence for a moment, as he checked his watch again, which Nicky was sure was an excuse for him to think. "Laying low."

"Oh." She didn't say anything else, not sure how to take his compliment. Once upon a time she'd have smiled and thanked him for his words, thinking his appraisal was the best thing in the world, flooded with the sensation of achievement.

After that neither said a word, the silence stretching out for minutes and Nicky wondered if he was planning, formulating. Jason was thankful for the silence. It was a change from the way Marie seemed to need to fill every empty moment with words. As the thought came so did the guilty and anger and all the mixed feelings that came with the woman he had once loved and lost, dead because of him.

"I need to go to the bus station," she said; her hand tightening around the strap of her shoulder bag as if she wasn't sure she should be speaking. "I left a bag in a locker."

He nodded, not asking her to explain. "Let's go."

And silently, she followed him again.

~*~

The station was bubbling with people coming and going with the night shift. Nicky hated traveling at night and wondered briefly what kind of circumstances would force these people to choose the night travels. No one was in a predicament like theirs, she was sure, forcing them to jump in a stolen car or run into the night no matter the time to protect themselves.

The taxi ride had been made in deep silence from both parties, with only the driver having the constant need to chat and once they had arrived, Jason paid for the fair, and they quickly made their way inside, getting lost in the thong of people, when he finally let her lead the way.

He didn't fail to notice the way she looked around, everywhere, at everyone, making her step quick and certain. He also noticed, as they finally reached their destination, that she had chosen a locker easy to get to and easy to get away from.

A small irrational bubble of pride filled up inside him, and he tried to ignore it because he had nothing to do with the fact she could protect herself.

Nicky quickly opened the locker and pulled a faded brown traveling bag from inside, and crouching down she zipped open the bag she had brought from her former home and moved the contents around so she could fit the smaller bag she had just taken from inside the locker. It became considerably heavier with now the new addition, but nothing she couldn't manage.

When she stood Jason was watching at her. "Passports," she said, in a way of explaining, her voice low. "And my fake IDs and money." She waited a second for any sign of recognition but like before all she got from him was a blank stare. "You don't remember." She didn't question, simply stated, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She had for some reason hoped that after all this time he'd have remembered something. But then, who was she kidding, 2 years had done nothing to make him remember a single moment with her, why would he in a few months?

"No."

She readjusted the strap across her chest and took a step closer to him. There was a moment of silence as she decided if she should say anything. She came as close as opening her mouth but then just closed it again. It wasn't her place to tell him his life, his memories. If he didn't remember all she'd be doing was tell him a meaningless scene from a foreign movie he hadn't watched.

"I'm ready," she said instead and he just nodded. Nicky felt torn between relief and disappointment because a part of her wished he'd be interested enough to push her into revealing something, anything, while another part was just glad he wasn't forcing her into dealing with something she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with. While he had no memories of her, even after all this time, for Nicky it was harder. She couldn't just erase 3 years with him.

He turned silently, and silently she followed him through the crowd. She would willingly be led now, because now she was once again in his hands.