A/N: Hot n' Exotic deserves a big hug and an even bigger thank-you, for being such a wonderful proof-reader and checking my crap, lol. You're too rocking for words, gal! :D

Thanks so much for checking this out, y'all! I'm grinning with your reviews and hits! I hope you like this one too! *Hugs*

Finding Common Ground

For the better part on an hour, I sat in the living room with Susannah, trying pointlessly to work on my day's mission report. Too many times I found myself just staring at the computer screen with a blank stare, while the fire crackled in the hearth, with the flames steadily growing the more it ate at the wood and oxygen in the air. The night was silent and undisturbed out of the window overlooking the front porch and driveway. The lit lamp behind Susannah threw a yellow, languid glow over her form as she sat and read her book. The silence between us, for the first time since we'd been here together, was relaxed and effortless.

One of the main reasons to my distraction.

I was starting to understand a little of Susannah's frustration from earlier, when I intruded on her time. But when I'd stopped at the doorway overlooking the room and saw her sitting before the open fire; with the red and orange glow highlighting her, my feet had moved me into the room of their own accord. Leading me to sit beside her. Instantly drawn to intently watching her. Fascinated by the quiet and different side of Susannah. She'd said I was leading her to distraction. Making me grin and smirk at the proof and truth of her words.

But she was equally leading me to the same fate and distraction, now. Just having her in the same room and only opposite me. Knowing she was so close often drove my highly alert state into awareness of her every movement.

Only right now, sitting here with her and enjoying the quiet comfortable atmosphere; it was allowing my mind to stretch further than it should have been allowed. When the air was charged and crackling with the tension between us, I found my thoughts often leading to areas it hadn't encountered in too long. Stirred desire building more each time. Making my stomach knot and my vision cloud with nothing but the aura of Susannah. The scent of her shampoo and all that is her. The agile and graceful way she moved around her space. My eyes catching the action of her lips as she spoke. The harmony of her voice that made me wish to hear it more. But laced with yearning and need.

In those moments, I knew how easy it would be for me to just reach out and pull her to me. I knew she couldn't deny it, because deep in her eyes, I see that she felt it too. That she needed the release as much as I did. The ever growing fear and confusion that lay unhidden but skirting the outer perimeters of that were always there. And I wondered how long she could put that aside before she gives in. How long could I put my own demons aside, to indulge in the taste and sweetness of Susannah?

The dislike that masked our attraction has morphed and shaped into something more sensual. Much deeper than either of us were expecting. But finding myself here, trapped in a silence that wasn't causing my eyes to darken with temptation or my arms heavy with wanting to feel her in them, I was gripped with a whole new area I had since been avoiding. For the sake of us both.

It was no secret I'd no wish to have what others have. My own past had left me dissatisfied and lacking the trust to ever let my heart out to another. And the relationship's I stumbled into for short times after didn't hold anything to them. At least not from me. I had a dangerous career that one day I might not return home from. A career I'd put first for a long time. I sacrificed so much when I was in the marines. And for a long time, I buried my distasteful thoughts and feelings about it. Shoveling them to a part of my mind, I knew I was never going to touch.

Along with any hope of ever feeling again.

Although sitting here now, in Susannah's company, with no snarky remarks to each other and no fevered looks to flare and arc in the air…it was making me look at the woman I'd sworn to protect a little closer than I should have.

We were both full of contradictions; we couldn't even sort through them. I held a dark past full of violence, loneliness and betrayal. Shielding myself from the things that could hit before I allowed them to. Placing my trust in few, subsequently robbing myself of love, friendship and a fulfilling life. But that had been my own choice. And one it was too late to turn back from. I'd plowed on and accepted all that I was going to get. While deep in my heart and soul, I longed for the things Susannah was unwittingly sowing in me.

Susannah held her own quiet depths to herself. Her distrust in people around her had been there long before we met. It was too engraved into her personality. Her sarcasm and bluntness were too quick and skilled. Strike first before anyone is able to. A loneliness and sadness close to my own, but for different reasons. Some may have been made by her own hand. She felt everything and anything that she didn't show to the world. She didn't like people to see too much.

We were trying to pushing each other away. In the meantime, only causing the pull to weave tighter. And she was as caught in the crossroads and silence we didn't know what to do with, as I was.

Flicking my glance up at Susannah, I watched, intrigued, as she bit down on her thumb nail. Pulling it into her soft and inviting mouth. Her eyes narrowed and confused at the book she's been trying to read since I came in. Forgetting about my presence for the moment, as she tried to understand something. A rare glimpse into the intricacies' of Susannah. When she wasn't asking silent questions to people's motives. Not on high alert and waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop.

And then I realize, for all the snipes and comments to have been thrown around by us both and the passion and need between us…we really didn't know anything about each other.

Frowning at the thought, I pulled my stare away before I was foolish enough to ask the questions on the tip of my tongue. I looked down at the report I've been trying to type. Reading over the words and noticing it doesn't make as much sense as it should. The sentences are broken and disjointed. Cutting off randomly with words that shouldn't be there. I'm almost surprised it doesn't have a single sentence, repeated over and over again across the screen.

Shaking my head at being so distracted, I went back to the beginning. Staring down into the screen, I brought forward what I needed to finish my report and made a concerted effort. I'd allowed my thoughts to wander into no-man's land enough. I didn't need to let it affect my work, more than it already was.

But I still absently wondered if it would have been easier, if the attraction was only one sided.

Not preparing to follow that thought, I opened the typed report from Lance and the cursive written one from Marty. The words are familiar and organized, bringing order to my jumbled and scattered mind. With their reports as a base, and the memory of my patrols and actions of the day, I got back to work. Until eventually, I got myself into a routine of not listening to every breath Susannah took across from me.

xXx

It wasn't too long later when Susannah disturbed me. Heaving a frustrated sigh, she threw her book down onto the end of the couch and threw her arms over her face. Mumbling into her hands as she shook off her fatigue. I kept my eyes glued to the computer screen and tried not to pay her too much attention. Having just gotten myself into a steady flow of concentration at last, I didn't want to disrupt that again. Dropping her hands away from her face, Susannah looked over at me.

"What're you doing?" she asked casually.

Her question wasn't out of boredom or to fill the silence. I heard the genuine curiosity there, as she swung her shapely legs to the floor and raised her hands above her head, stretching herself out in smooth and easy movements. Standing up from the couch, she walked over to sit in front of the fire with a pillow. Placing her arms on her up-raised knees as she took me in from her seated position.

Wetting my suddenly dry and parched lips, I carried on failing at trying to multi-task. "I'm writing up my daily mission report," I answered, trying not to scowl as I felt my concentration slipping even further. From the corner of my eye, I saw her tilt her head in question. Part of me hoped she was going to leave me to finish. But I knew I'd miss her presence even as I dismissed my annoyance at not being able to complete my work. She had every right to be here. And I knew it was a lost cause anyway.

"What do you have to write a report for?" she asked, rubbing at her left arm as the heat from the fire warmed her skin. She shuffled over a little more, stretching her legs out before her as she leaned back on her palms. "Chuck me a pillow, will you." Grabbing the nearest cushion I saw, I threw it over to her where it landed by her hands. Saving my work, I closed my laptop and sat back.

Resigning myself to Susannah's attention and answering her questions. With a few of my own waiting in the wings.

"I have to write up a report every day, when I'm on assignment," I replied, letting myself sit back against the arm rest and placing one foot up on the hard couch cushions. Easing into the moment the more our comfortable time carried on together. "Making sure nothing gets forgotten, no matter how big or small. If something happens that hasn't been noted and it comes up again later; it could cause us problems."

She looked thoughtful as the light from the fire threw shadows across her face. "It's a bit tedious isn't it?" she asked, with more understanding than I thought she'd have. "Having to write down everything like a journal, writing out your whole day. Besides . . . you don't really strike me as the type to keep a diary."

I answered her knowing smile with a small grin. Wondering if I was that transparent in my characteristics. Or if Susannah was just one of few who could read me without too much effort. It was a disconcerting thought and one that didn't bode well for me.

I shrugged, keeping my lopsided grin. "It does get tiring quite quickly," I felt myself relaxing into the couch as I looked across to Susannah. The distance and lack of light in the room making it hard for me to really read her eyes. It was a good thing, I told myself. "Having to repeat the day as informally as possible. Especially when nothing's really happened. But its protocol I have to follow. Only I don't grumble about it as much as Lance or others do."

"Shut up and put up, right?"

I released the chuckle at her blunt retort, without too much thought. I knew I shouldn't have been enjoying the comfortable conversation as much as I was. But I couldn't bring myself to pull away. For all our time here together, we haven't really spoken properly. But I brushed aside the voice reminding there was a reason for that.

"Exactly," I said. "There's no point getting annoyed about something that'd only take an hour to do. All it does is annoy the Boss. Although Lance has been known to let paperwork pile up until the point where he's ordered not to leave his desk until it's up to date. You can guarantee your ears will burn from his whining for the rest of the day and thereafter."

The corners of Susannah's mouth tilted slightly, but that was all she did. We lapsed into silence for a short time then. Neither overly affected by it for a change. After the awkward and rich air between us on most of our time together recently, I forgot what it felt like to just be able to sit and enjoy the solace. She looked more tired than I expected. And not for the first time, I questioned how much sleep she's really been getting. Judging from her smothered yawn; not much.

I didn't question her about it though. It was her burden to bear. Not something I could help or protect Susannah from. I looked away from her, letting my eyes fall on the darkness out of the window. The surrounding trees as silent as the night could be. The nocturnal animals out on the hunt, searching for prey. But it was Susannah's curious question that pulled me from my observation.

"What does your family think of your job?" she casually asked, her shadowed eyes boring into me. "Being out in the danger zone and everything, I mean."

I schooled my reaction and expression in the face of her innocence query. Something anyone could ask. But I still felt my shoulders tense at the mention of my estranged parents and sisters'. I hadn't talked about them for so long I could almost believe I never had a family out in the world. But still, it didn't do anything to stop the ache and anger I felt with myself and with them. And when I spoke, I tried not to let any of it show and shine through my words.

"I wouldn't know," I quietly answered, not looking into her direct earnestness. "I haven't spoken to them in a long time." I was expecting Susannah to back down from my blunt and short answer. But then, Susannah has yet to do something that hasn't left me speechless and uncomfortable. Only plowing on regardless.

"Is that to do with the job," she enquired. "Or to do with you?"

My eyes darted to hers then. Clashing and searching for why she was so accurate in her estimate. And when I came upon an understanding and guilt, I felt my tense shoulders ease themselves of the weight that settled there as soon as she asked about them. I didn't know too much about Susannah's family. Only knowing they didn't live anywhere near as close as they could have been. But now I was feeling my own curious nature rise. Her insight shimmering in her often guarded eyes only cemented that.

"Both," I answered. But she wanted more. The sudden need for a cold beer made my throat tickle. I wasn't comfortable speaking about my family with a relative stranger. Whether she could empathize or not. I looked to the flames behind Susannah. Keeping my eyes averted helped me to believe I didn't have a captive audience, listening to every word.

"It started because of my career," I carried on. Feeling like poison was rising in my throat and trying to stop my progress. "My father didn't agree with me joining the military. He didn't want me to, which only made my thirst that much stronger. But it didn't take long for me to lose contact completely and let me push them away." I swallowed down the lump at the memory of my fathers' anger. His opinion, that he would never support my decision, whether I asked for it or not.

"Don't you have any brothers or sisters you tried to stay in touch with?"

It was spoken quietly, but I felt the force of it hit me like a freight train. My guilt at not being there for my sisters' is something I've had to live with everyday. Not even knowing if they're married or with children of their own. The lives they've led. All things I left behind to save them and myself. At least, that's what I tried to tell myself. But I feel my anger at myself for that the most.

I didn't hold back the sigh this time. But it didn't release the pressure building. "I was the oldest and the only son," I said, still not ready to face Susannah completely. "I've got six younger sisters. I wrote letters to them every now and again. But the quicker I sunk into the job, the quicker I stopped doing that too."

"Do you ever wonder where they are? What they're doing?" She asked, pulling up from leaning back on her palms and sitting crossed legged as she gave me her full attention. "Maybe getting back in touch with them . . ."

I flicked my glance back to Susannah, catching her staring back just as intensely. Her questions hanging between us as she delved deeper, than anyone who knew I rarely reached.

"I wonder about them everyday," I was aware my voice sounded wistful. But I refused to let it crack. "But it never encourages me to do anything about it," She furrowed her eyes in almost disbelief. "Too much has been said and too much time has passed. It's best just forgotten." She shook her head at me ruefully. Flicking off my refusal easily.

"You'd deny yourself the chance of re-connecting with your family," Susannah retorted. "Because you're too hard-headed to pick up a phone? You must live a lonely life," She trailed off, watching me carefully. She knew she hit a chord, when her eyes sparkled and a small grin flashed across her face as I swung my leg down hard and pinned her with a dark stare. It was getting too close for comfort.

"I have a family, Susannah," I stated, even though I knew I was being defensive and I had nothing to be ashamed of or to prove. "The agency is my family. I don't need any-more than that." She still wore an expression of disbelief, but didn't say anything else. Thankfully dropping that specific line of questioning.

When it was clear she wasn't affected by outburst, I sat back in my original position. Watching as her stare landed on the fire in the hearth. There was a shadow in her eyes when we were talking about my estranged family. And I wondered what Susannah's story was. "What about you?"

She turned to me when I asked, confused by my sudden question. "What about me?"

"Are you close to your family?" I kept my face carefully neutral, but I was eager to know more about her. Why she seemed so pushy for me to talk about my family and for me to see the errors in my logic. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but when she didn't find anything other than genuine curiosity she relaxed slightly. Allowing me in inch by agonizing inch.

"Not particularly," she answered, surprising me with being more forthcoming than I was. Ed always said it was like trying to get blood out of a stone when I didn't want to talk. But it was how I coped. "I used to live in New York until I was sixteen. My dad died when I was younger, so it'd always just been me and mom. But then she met someone, decided to get married and shipped me across the country. And that's when the cracks started appearing between me and my mom. I didn't want the new family, and as soon as I could, I got out of there."

Her casual and easy answer told me why I saw her empathy. That she herself was as distance and detached from her family as I am. The difference being, she freely admitted to the problems between them. That she was the cause, not them. She had a family willing to accept her and let her be all she wanted. As much as my mothers' reluctant blessing meant to me, it wasn't enough.

"Do you still go and visit them?" I asked.

"I haven't been back in a while, but I speak to my mom every now and again," She shrugged, picking at a loose thread on her pants. "I've been quite lucky I guess. She's always tried to understand my distance, while still trying to stay in contact. Coming out to see me, sending cards and letters. Even just leaving a message on my answering machine, knowing I won't call her back. I'm the one who's tried to push her away, but she hasn't let me as much as I wanted," She gave me a tired smile. "It's a shame it's taken for my life to be threatened, to make me realize what I was putting them all through; especially my mom. I just hope I haven't left it too long . . ."

"I don't think you ever could."

She raised her eyes to me, looking for the truth of my sincerity. I saw a wisp of a smile edging the corners of her lips, before she looked away again. A small blush to her cheeks that I knew wasn't from the fire. Clearing my throat, I looked away from her. Seeing the mess of the coffee table, I righted myself and reached out to tidy the paperwork. Stacking the mission reports that I knew I should get back too. But I was enjoying the easy and relaxed conversation I was having with Susannah. It was a rarity I was so open and chatty. And it was easy to forget I was supposed to be detached with my charge.

I knew I was using the time to tidy my work to keep myself busy. Ever since we'd gotten onto our personals, I'd had a question I'd been burning to ask her. Longer still if I had to admit. But I couldn't let it go until I knew. The more I tried to reason with myself, the more I began to doubt it. Before finally, I took the plunge and finally voiced what I have been curious to know.

"Can I ask you a question?" I requested, drawing her back around to face me. Her face was flushed with a glow from the heat of the fire, as she inclined her head for me to continue. "Why did you refuse to go into witness protection? Denying yourself the chance of more freedom and as close to a normal life as possible."

Susannah made no move to indicate my question had affected her at all. No tension riddling her delicate frame or sudden hitch in her breathing at the bluntness. Even her expression and eyes were as blank as my own skilled ones are. I thought she wasn't going to answer answer my question and I was about to retract it and apologize; when she said something that made my admiration and respect for her grow.

And the one thing that is what will make her survive this drama.

"Because if I went into witness protection," She said carefully. "With the chance to start a whole new life; then that would mean I let him win. And Thea's death won't have meant anything. But I refuse to let him break me."

I sat back against the couch looking at Susannah and really taking her in. She was a woman built with an inner strength that would rival Rose's. With the conviction to accept her faults like she had with her family. With the mind and will, to fight and break through the shroud Steven Carson has placed around her by putting her here. She has weaknesses and flaws like any other. But for the first time since I met Susannah, I really saw her for the equal she is.

I let a slow smile appear with nothing behind it, but acceptance of her strength and reasoning. Saying what I couldn't, because it didn't feel right. I didn't feel as though there was anything I could say. But I felt the loyalty spread through me when I saw her smile coming out in response to mine.

The moment was broken when Susannah couldn't smother another yawn. Her tiredness seeping through the more she relaxed with me. She sighed and climbed to her feet. Looking to the fire with one last wistful glance before she walked around the coffee table. "I'm giving in and going to bed," She said, picking up the book she'd thrown on the end of the couch and walked towards the doorway. "Thanks for the chat, Jesse," She surprised me by saying as she stopped and turned to look at me. Her eyes soft and her tone light. "It was . . . an experience."

Shooting me a quick grin, she turned and walked away. Leaving me with my own stupid smile on my face as I watched her leave. It never occurred to me to worry that I was smirking like a fool, or feeling something other than the coil of tension and desire I had been experiencing too much around Susannah. Finally answering her once she disappeared and I could hear her tired footsteps carrying her up the stairs.

"Sweet dreams, querida," I murmured after her. Never realizing how wrong I was.

Anonymous Reviews:

Meg – Aww thank you, hun! I had this huge smile on my face for ages after I read your review :) Hearing the word 'amazing' in a review to my writing always makes me look twice, hehe. I've written it in my own to others. So add that to the list of the amount of times I've been shell-shocked since I started writing for the Mediator :D I don't think I can ever say thank you enough for the support you and so many others have given my stories. So I've have to settle with a huge huggle and fairy wishes you for you :) Take care! x