LuckyU, thanks for your review; it is short but full of wisdom and sums up pretty well my own feelings.

LilMisfit5290: wow… what a compliment! Actually, the series writers gave birth to 3 awesome, unique characters that I feel a strong connection with: Brody, Carrie, Carrie/Brody. But the writers have given up on them. They killed Brody and Carrie/Brody because they didn't fit in the "plan" anymore and were too much work. As for Carrie, they let her live but she needed some serious readjustment: look at her at the end of the finale! Now that's a good girl! The last 20 minutes are an insult to intelligence. Plain and simple.

Bookworm1986 and betweentheraindrops: thank you, your support means a lot to me. Bookworm, funny how our fics resonate with one another… parallel universes where destinies are different but feelings identical…

Choices – 6: Mind Games

His touch was like electricity sending little jolts of current throughout her body – particularly in her lower stomach; she had no control over it and it was disturbing. It reminded her of their first encounters. He was the "bad guy" but attracted her like a magnet. And what if the "but" was in fact a "because"? How are you supposed to be a good agent if you're attracted to terrorists or traitors?

Right now her mind said "open the door", her body said "turn around".

Fuck. She dropped her bags on the floor, dryly pushed his hand away from her shoulder, walked up to the living room and sat again in the armchair. All without glancing once at him. She helped herself to a glass of water, and started nibbling on one of the sandwiches. She knew it was ridiculous, she had never been less hungry and she knew he knew it but it gave her a countenance.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Brody sit on the couch opposite her.

What he was about to ask her was extremely selfish. Contrary to him, she still had people who loved her in America; she had a family she could count on and who would miss her. And with the baby, it was even worse… but there was no way he could have guessed. She didn't tell him she was pregnant before he left for Iran. Damn, he even saw her smoking.

He had always kept in mind her determination after the Langley bombing. She was the one who wanted them to run away, and had everything ready within a couple of hours. A very efficient would-be runaway indeed.

They should have remained together that day; they would have flown to some safe, exotic place where they would have made love all day on a desert beach and sipped cocktails all night in bed and the reverse. How many times had he fantasized on those images when he was locked up in that fucking container sailing toward an even worse cage in South America… From holes to boxes, that was his destiny. Damn it. No more holes, no more boxes; from now on, he would be the one in charge of designing his own future.

He finally spoke. "I asked Akbari for his protection but I told him that I couldn't stay in Iran because the CIA or Mossad would find me quickly: I couldn't blend in with the locals, and my face was already too famous all over the country. Plus I told him that I wanted to leave with you."

"What?" Carrie almost choked on the bread. "You told him what?"

"That's why you're here. But remember you're free to go any time Carrie. That's part of the contract. If you want to leave, they'll drive you back to the airport."

"And you trust his word?" Carrie couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Yes. I took advantage of his obvious contempt for Western women, like all his peers at the IRGC. You're a totally insignificant pawn for him and if I wanted you, I could have you, he didn't give a shit. I played that male stuff, bragging and buddy-buddy, I find her hot and blablabla. It was surreal but it worked. You're here."

"You are a great manipulator," she scoffed.

"So are you my dear," he struck back.

They had both experienced each other's talent in the field more than once. Mutual admiration and mind games made up not so bad memories. That was how their attraction and feelings had built up.

The past made the present a little less oppressive. Carrie was now looking at him and her face was a bit more relaxed. Emotions had given way to concentration.

It was good news. He needed her to be clear-headed. And her intelligence was her sexiest feature. Damn. He wanted her again. Nope, not the right time.

"He said he could arrange something for us," he resumed. "They have the equivalent of a witness protection program. So we can start new lives with new identities in some country we would have to pick. Preferably one with no extradition treaty with the USA. Just in case." He paused and added: "Of course, the baby makes things much more complicated."

As he expected, she immediately shot back: "A baby will never hold me back from doing what I want."

Realizing she might have fallen in some kind of trap, she quickly changed the subject: "How long are you supposed to stay here on this island?"

He noticed the "you", didn't point it out, and decided to follow that path. Putting pressure on Carrie was the last thing to do. "I'm leaving some time during the night. I'll be taken to another place, another island belonging to the IRGC but with the necessary infrastructure to prepare for that new identity. I'll learn a new language and a new job. I was considering lumberjack, what do you think?"

A smile flickered across Carrie's face: "What?"

"Like Dexter, you know, the TV show? The kids were great fans."

She shook her head: "I hardly ever watch TV."

All right, that was lame, but at least she smiled for a second. "Never mind. So that's the story. It's up to you now."

"I can't believe how easy you make it sound."

"Well, it is for me. I have nothing to lose – except you. There's no turning back. I've made my decision."

It was not easy. He lied. He might never see his children again. But he wanted to appear determined. Damn, he was supposed to be in charge here. But deep inside, he knew she would be the stronger of the two when things really happened; IF things really happened. If she said no, he would be a mess. He was not even sure he would be able to make it at all.

Carrie got up and started pacing up and down the room. "Okay, let me see if I understand properly; you've screwed Saul's plan up and turned Javadi in to the Iranian authorities."

"Yes. I don't give a shit about what happens to Javadi, he's an asshole; he killed Yousef point blank without blinking, so he may well end up hanging from a crane somewhere in Tehran for all I care."

She nodded. "He is the king of assholes; a monster." She remembered the gruesome aftermath in the home of Javadi's daughter-in-law and that little baby boy bawling his eyes out. It was awful; that man was capable of such savagery. Yes. He was the one who held the weapons. But in the end, the two women had been killed because of Saul's plan. And because of her.

Collateral damage.

She had never wanted to dwell on that, had never even questioned Saul's plan. Why? Because she was not paid to ask questions and have remorse. And because Saul's plan was essential.

Or was it?

As if reading her mind, Brody said: "You know, I've heard things. Iran is considering signing an agreement on its nuclear program."

"Haha. Very funny. That's bad manipulation. You can do better."

"You'll see. All this fucking plan was useless. And Yousef was killed for fucking nothing. Saul will look like a dick. But a live dick at least. He's lucky."

Damn. If that was true…

A knock at the door made her jump.