Dwayne woke to the sound of breaking dishes and a muffled curse. Rubbing his hand over his face, he rolled over to see that it was 3:17 a.m., four hours after he went to bed. A louder, "damnit," brought him out of bed and on the way to the kitchen. He stood at the doorway, taking in the situation, not liking what he saw.

Annabeth stood over the sink holding a leaking milk jug. The trail of drops led to the fridge where a puddle indicated the scene of the accident. The door to the fridge wasn't quite shut. He wasn't sure but he'd guess something prevented it from closing.

"Can I help you with something?" Dwayne asked carefully.

"Only if you have your gun handy."

"What do you want me to shoot?" he asked coming up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"The idiot who put the milk off the edge of the shelf," Annabeth whispered vehemently.

"I'll get right on it. What were you trying to do?"

"I was trying to make some hot rum mild," she answered as she turned in his arms to face him.

"And the milk launched an attack. Please tell me the rum made a strategic retreat," Dwayne teased.

"It didn't get the memo in time, never made it to the front lines."

"Why don't you sit down and I'll get you something."

Annabeth didn't protest, sinking gratefully into a chair at the table, with a sigh. "Sorry I woke you."

"Eh, no big deal. What's keeping you up?" He moved about the kitchen with a practiced ease.

"I can't stop thinking if I leave it will solve all our problems," Annabeth replied.

Dwayne set up a cup down in front of her and pulled out a chair for himself. "Does your thought process include the scenario that ends up with you being dead?"

"But none of you would be dead. You'd all be safe," Annabeth stated. "It would be worth the sacrifice."

"Your life isn't a fair exchange! Not for ours! Not for anyone's!" Dwayne shouted, slamming his palm on the table surface.

"Like you wouldn't sacrifice your life for any one of your team!" Annabeth yelled back.

"I would in a heartbeat," he agreed, "but not before I tried every possible alternative option. Give this a chance."

"Dwayne, this plan exposes all of you. I can't in good conscious let you guys go through this. I can't."

"Annabeth, we are choosing to do this. It is not a matter of letting us."

She took a long sip from her cup, trying to come up with a firm rebuttal. "I hate it when you do that. You've always been very good at it. Damn it, King!"

"You know you're the only one that can make that name non complimentary," he pointed out.

"There has to be someone," Annabeth stated.

The pair sat sipping their drinks in silence until the cups were empty. Dwayne took the empties to the sink. Annabeth wiped up the mess on the floor. Switching off the lights, Dwayne guided her towards the stairs. She put up no protest. They climbed into bed and he pulled her into his arms, settling her against his chest as she buried her face in his neck.

An alarmingly loud phone brought the sleeping duo to full awareness with unrivaled expediency. Pride slapped the nightstand in a vain attempt to find the source. Annabeth rolled the opposite direction and threw the offending item at its owner.

"Make it shut up," she mumbled into the pillow.

"Pride," Dwayne growled into the phone.

"Agent Pride, did I wake you?" Director Vance asked nonchalantly.

Pride glanced at the bedside clock; 5:45 a.m. Do you want an honest answer, sir?"

Vance chuckled, "Not really."

"What can I do for you?" Pride asked as he carefully got out of bed so he wouldn't disturb his companion.

"It has come to my attention that there is a credible threat against our people by Caleb Dawson. I'd like to verify that from a reliable source and why I wasn't informed."

"It's true. Caleb Dawson has directly threatened LaSalle and Dupont. We were handling it in house to keep it quiet."

"How well is that working for you?" Vance asked knowingly.

"It's not. We are going to implement a different plan this morning," Dwayne explained as he started the coffee.

"And when exactly did you plan on telling the rest of us?" Vance asked.

"This morning," Pride answered. "I was going to call you at a decent hour."

"Dwayne, you have my full support, whatever you need. Take care of my agents," the director dictated.

"That's my intention." Dwayne hit the end button.

"How long have you known?"

Pride jumped, startled by the question. "Jeez, warn a guy."

"Answer me, please," Annabeth demanded from where she was leaning on the doorframe.

"Since you joined," he said as he pulled out two cups.

"Does Chris know?" she asked as she slid into a chair.

"No."

"It wasn't my choice. Keeping it a secret from him."

"I know it wasn't," Dwayne stated, passing her a cup and the creamer.

"He still can't know. As bad as this situation is, Chris knowing would be a thousand times worse," Annabeth said. She took a healthy swallow of her drink. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "You're still drinking this swill? Really, King?"

"This is good stuff. You don't want to drink it, give me the cup back."

Annabeth slowly pushed the mug across the tabletop, handle facing him. Both studiously watched its progress, Dwayne reaching out to grab it just as she did the same. Her hand landed on top of his.

"We should probably get showered and start this day," Dwayne whispered.

She leaned towards him. "It would conserve water if we shared the shower."

"Might not save us any time though."

Annabeth rose, reached out to take Dwayne's hand and pulled him with her. "I'm sure we have plenty of time."

Following her up the stairs, they both started shedding clothes the minute they made it to his private apartment. Dwayne caught her hand as she lowered it after pulling her sleep shirt off. The kiss spoke volumes, past desires, current ones. Annabeth walked backwards, slowly getting them to the bathroom. Dwayne waved his hand behind him, trying to find the door while not breaking the kiss. Finally, finding purchase, he slammed it shut.