There was a thin line between giving Frank some space and letting him wallow in misery. Stella had stopped Aneisha going after him to give him space, but an hour later, decided that Frank had had enough time to let off steam.

MI9 had arranged for Frank and Stella to share a hotel room, maintaining their guise of being newlyweds on their honeymoon. Stella had to admit that it was a cleverly devised cover for them, because it meant that they were unlikely to be disturbed during late-night discussions involving top secret information.

Of course, the other great advantage was that Frank couldn't hide from her, because she had a key to their room as well.

Stella opened the door slowly and found him sitting on the carpet with Janus' guitar over his lap, a pair of scissors in one hand, and a stick of Boldovian cheese in the other. Confused, she entered the room and closed the door behind her. Frank didn't look up, but continued to cut up the guitar strings into tiny pieces, occasionally taking a bite of the cheese.

Without a word, Stella approached him and sat down beside him, gently pulling the scissors from his fingers and sliding the guitar off his lap. Frank didn't protest, and though his shoulders were shaking slightly, his eyes were dry and full of fire.

"Go on then." Frank's tone seemed almost accusing. "Say it. You were right about Janus all along. You always are."

"I'm sorry," Stella said quietly, kneeling behind him and wrapping her arms around him.

"It's not your fault," Frank responded instinctively. He knew that line quite well know. Stella was just as familiar with it, and didn't like it a bit.

"It's not your fault either," Stella removed her arms and moved so that she was facing him. "One of the ways we're different from KORPS is that we trust each other. We have friends. Trust is not a crime."

Stella's gaze was intense, but Frank did not drop his eyes. He had forgotten what it was like for Stella to be "nice", and found that he quite liked it.

"I know how it feels to be betrayed," Stella continued, her voice sad and soft around the edges. "It hurts."

Frank suddenly remembers that Stella, of all people, knew exactly how he felt. Over ten years ago, the first time they fought KORPS, Stella had been shocked to discover that one of her closest friends who had gone through training and multiple missions with her, was a double agent. She had taken a whole week off work, which was completely unprecedented for Stella, and had spent many an evening crying into Frank's shoulder.

"And it takes a long time to learn to trust again. You end up doubting every one of your colleagues and confuse yourself trying to work out where their loyalties lie." Frank tuned in again to what Stella was saying.

Stella paused as a thought suddenly occurred to her. "You know, Frank, of all the people I've worked with, I've always trusted you. I think you're the only one I never doubted at some point of another. So thank you, I guess."

Impulsively, Frank leaned forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Stella, then let go quickly, afraid that she would lash out at him. Luckily for him, she only smiled.

"Do you feel any better?" she asked gently.

Frank nodded and offered a reassuring smile. He stood up and offered a hand to pull Stella up from the ground as well.

"I supposed we'd better start packing," Frank suggested, sounding much like his usual self. "When are we flying out again?"

"First thing tomorrow morning," Stella answered with a groan, dreading the upcoming flight. Then she realised that she'd be flying with Frank again, and relaxed slightly. Frank always seemed to make things better, even when he was upset.

Unbeknownst to Stella, Frank was thinking the same thing. Stella hated flights and being away from home, but he could always rely on her for support and comfort. Maybe she was his guardian angel in disguise, he mused.

They packed in silence, each of them incredibly grateful for the other's company, neither willing to admit it.