Overall, I really like this chapter, the only problem is, that I'm a little unsure if I should have put this here or should have included it at a later spot. If I change my mind, I will definitely let you guys know ahead of time so we can avoid confusion. This is also the chapter where that whole, convoluted thinking of mine when it comes to Barsad, Natalie and Bane comes full circle. Hoping you guys start to piece it together in your head now :)

Ladyabsinthe91 and HopeAndHeartache: Well here's your next chapter. Hope you like :)

AuRevoirMonCauchemar: Thanks, I rather liked that line too. Thought I outdid myself. And, uh . . . yeah, that jealously rears it's ugly head in this chapter in quite a major way ;)

Love ya bunches!

- Nagiana

PS -Oh yeah, and you guys would really take the time to look up the song before reading, that would be great! It really shows the mindset that Natalie was in when asked Barsad to dance. It really is quite a beautiful song.

PPS - I know you guys are probably wondering where the hell Blake is. Yeah, he'll pop up next chapter, I promise :)

"It seems like

Happiness is just a thing called Joe

He's got a smile that makes the lilacs want to grow

He's got a way that makes the angels heave a sigh

When they see Little Joe passing by

Sometimes the cabin's gloomy and the table's bare

But when he kisses me it's Christmas everywhere

Troubles fly away and life is easy . . ."

- "Happiness is a Thing Called Joe" by Peggy Lee

"Oh, Barsad, I love this song!" Natalie grinned, and Barsad looked up from Christopher Poindexter just long enough to see the cover for Peggy Lee's The Man I Love album, disappear back into the shelf among its compatriots. Natalie had a broad grin plastered on her face and when she placed the needle on the record, the room was suddenly filled with a beautiful 50's instrumental piece. She glanced over her shoulder at him. "My Gam Gam loves this song! I grew up listening to it." She told him and he gave a slow nod. He watched for a moment as she stood there, hips swaying to the music and for a moment, he remembered that his wife used to do the same thing. She would stand there in front of the record player or the kitchen counter while making dinner, and simply sway, as if she was getting wrapped up in the music and nothing else in the world mattered.

For a moment, she reminded him so much of his Fadila, that he was breathless. And when she turned around and, smiling, moved over to him, he could barely comprehend that her hand was being outstretched to him. "Come, Barsad – dance with me!" She spoke and immediately, he shook his head, his eyes widening.

"Oh, no, that is a bad idea! If Bane were to walk in -"

"Then I'd dance with him too!" She interrupted him rather imperiously. "Because I am so fucking tired of sitting around and doing nothing day in and day out, that I am willing to actually dance! At least now I'll be able to do something new!"

Barsad hesitated for a moment before closing the book and putting it aside. He then slowly reached up and took her hand. Beaming, she backed up, taking him with her as she did so. One hand appearing on his shoulder while the other appeared in his hand, his free arm wrapped around her waist as they stood there and gently swayed in a circle in the middle of the living room. Her cheek was pressed to his chest and he rested his own on her head as Peggy Lee's melodic voice filled the room, wrapping them up in utter angelic perfection.

"This reminds me of my wife . . ." He eventually murmured, a hint of wistful nostalgia in his tone, and heard Natalie chuckle.

"Oh?" He nodded.

"I'd come home some nights after work and she'd be at the record player or the kitchen counter getting dinner ready, just swaying to the music. We'd dance like this and often wouldn't stop until we smelled our dinner burning on the stove or the hot-plate – whichever was working at the time!" He spoke with a chuckle and Natalie gave another one of her own.

"You never told me how she died."

Barsad was quiet was a long while before eventually speaking, his tone hard: "With reason. The country where we were from, there was a civil war. It tore the country in two, and . . . no one was given the right to be neutral, let me just say that. When I was gone, one day, to fill our ration card, I came back to find that enemy soldiers had raided our home. They had found out about our desire to remain neutral and I suppose . . . I suppose they wanted to rectify that in some way. I came home to find her lying on our bed . . . clothes torn and . . . and body broken. They used her for their own sick, selfish needs and then killed her. Slit her throat. They didn't even give her the mercy of a quick, clean death. And I never got the chance to say goodbye."

Natalie's eyebrows furrowed in sorrow as she took her cheek off of his chest to gaze up at him. "Oh, that's terrible, Barsad!" He nodded.

"It was."

"And that was when you joined with Bane?" Barsad nodded again.

"He . . . promised change. He promised that everything evil that took away my wife, would be done with – that it would never happen again. That justice would prevail in the new world he was forging."

"Is it?" She asked quietly, and he gazed down at her for a moment. They had long ceased their dancing, and as the song ended and rolled into "(Just One Thing to Say) I Love You", he turned his beautiful blue eyes onto her and nodded.

"At the end of the day, I know it is."

They stayed like that for a moment before he gave a weak smile and gently buried one hand in her hair, feeling the thickness and the heft of it in his hand. "You look like her, too, pretty one . . . only infinitely more beautiful . . .!" He murmured, voice almost breathless, and Natalie closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath at his words. He shouldn't have his hands on her; looking at her with those beautiful eyes of his in that heavy lidded gaze. It was dangerous; he shouldn't be touching her like this. She shouldn't want and crave his touch like she did because he was the only kind thing in this Hell that had become her life. She shouldn't want to kiss him – want his tongue in her mouth. She shouldn't want to go to bed with him . . . shouldn't want to feel the weight of him above her, beneath her, all around her – want to feel the way he felt inside her. She felt terribly confused about the entire thing – conflicted in her love for Blake and the overwhelming desire she felt for this strangely humanistic terrorist with a surprising heart of gold.

Was it Stockholm syndrome that was making her feel this way? Or was this purely natural?

Suddenly, she felt a large, callused hand on the back of her neck and then two lips against hers. His lips were warm and soft, slowly moving, savoring each second, sending shivers straight down her spine to her tingling toes. She shuddered quickly and brought her hands up to grip a pair of strong, broad shoulders as he pulled her body closer to his – forcing her to stand on her tiptoes in order to meet him. Warmth washed through her in gentle waves as he deepened the kiss, his hands moving upwards from the back of her neck to clench in her dark hair. His tongue filled her mouth – thick and inviting and tasting vaguely of a strange mixture of beer and licorice. She let out a little sigh of satisfaction, and he slowly broke the kiss to look down into her eyes - his own dark and heavy-lidded. She smelled of lavender and all the goodness in the world and felt like satin underneath his callused, world-weary fingertips. Lord help him . . . he knew he shouldn't want this - shouldn't want her, but . . .

"I want you, pretty one. I don't know why – but I do. I don't know why I want to invite this type of danger into my life, but -"

A loud 'ding' filled the space, effectively interrupting him before she could reply, and ruining whatever it was that had formed between them in that magical length of short time. They jumped, right when the doors opened and Bane stalked in. He came to a dead stop when he saw them, standing there, arms around each other in a dance while romantic music played from the record player. His eyes changed from accusing to betrayal to . . . hurt? But then it all disappeared, and only rage was left – smoldering and all-encompassing.

"You dare?" He roared before marching in their direction. Immediately, they flung themselves away from each other, Barsad's eyes growing wide as Natalie immediately moved to step in-between them.

"Bane – Bane, wait a minute, now, nothing happened! We were just -"

"Quiet, little one! Nothing you can say will excuse his hands being on you!" He snapped before reaching out to him. He was stopped, however, by Natalie's small hands appearing on his chest. With a bewildered look, he cast his gaze down onto hers. "Why are you insistent on defending him?"

"Because nothing happened, Bane!" She all but yelled up at him, the lie coming surprisingly easy to her lips. She had never lied like that before. Why had that one come so easy? "We were just dancing! Nothing happened – it was innocent!"

"Innocent?" Bane roared before giving a caustic laugh. "I don't call walking in to find my queen in the arms of my second, innocent! Now get out of the way, little one."

"No!"

"Little one -!"

"I'm not stepping out of the way until you see reason!"

"Natalie, please -!"

Fury entered Bane's eyes when Barsad spoke her name, and he lunged past her, grabbing Barsad up by one hand wrapped around his throat. Natalie was pushed aside and fell painfully to her hands and knees to the hardwood floor. With that one grip, Bane had picked up Barsad a mere few inches off of the floor, but the man's hands scrabbled at his leader's hand all the same.

"You dare touch her – you dare even speak her name -!"

"Bane!"

"Forgive me . . . Leader!" Barsad gasped out and Bane shook his head, dark amusement echoing in his deep blue eyes.

"Forgive you? What do you know of forgiveness? You think your wife forgives you for what you allowed to happen? You think she forgives you for leaving her alone to allow men to take advantage of her and then murder her? No. No, I would say she does not. But I won't give my little one that sorrow. I will protect her by nipping whatever it is you hold for her in the bud –!"

"Goddamnit, Bane, would you stop this?"

Everything went completely still when Natalie hauled back and slapped him. He hardly felt anything because of the metal covering his face, while her hand felt everything, but at that moment, she had so much adrenaline and concern for Barsad coursing through her body, that she hardly felt the pain licking throughout the appendage. Bane, however, had gently lowered Barsad to his feet, where he then dropped him. The man curled up on his hands and knees, gasping and wheezing for breath while Bane gazed at her for a moment. She couldn't read the emotion flickering through his gaze and that frightened her. Normally, Bane allowed her to read him freely – probably as a way to make her feel safer around him – but now . . . now, he was completely closed off, and she had never been so frightened in her life.

"You slapped me." He spoke, almost in awe that such a thing would dare to have been done to him by a woman, and she nodded.

"Yes, I did. Because you wouldn't see reason."

"Reason? Reason is all I see, little one! I come in, see another man holding my queen -"

"I am not your queen!"

"– And I react appropriately! How was I supposed to act?"

"By listening to me – to us!" She yelled back, wonder flickering through her features as she gestured between her and Barsad. "Reason is best utilized with truth and you hadn't listened to a word I said – not even to what Barsad said, and you claim to call him friend and your second! Instead, you came in like a rampaging bull seeing red because you assumed the worst had happened or was going to happen! It was nothing!"

Again, a lie, and she was surprised and a little taken aback by how easily it came to her lips. Did being around Bane this long really open her up to more conventional ways of living her life?

Bane stayed silent for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was calm and cool. "You were . . . dancing with him?" She nodded, a relieved look appearing on her face.

"Yes! We were dancing! Again, it was nothing!"

He nodded, slowly. "You never dance with me."

Natalie recoiled, her eyes growing slightly wide. Did she sense . . . hurt in his voice? "Bane, are you . . . are you jealous?" She asked, awed that he could even feel such an emotion, and immediately, he shook his head, his eyes and voice hardening.

"Of course not. To assume that would assume that I think this man competition, of which I know he is not. You are my queen, little one -"

"I am not your little one, either." She interrupted him, much softer in her correction this time, but he ignored her like last time.

"I am just insulted that a man would presume to ever place his hands on you when you are mine."

She recoiled at this, as well, all pretense of softness gone from her features and her voice. "Yours? Excuse me, Bane, but I am no one's but myself! I am owned by no man and I'll be damned if I start with you of all men!" She snapped before twirling around and moving towards the double doors to the bedroom.

"Then what is love, little one?" Bane spoke up, causing her to come to a screeching halt. "What is love, if not being unconsciously controlled by someone else? An emotion that forces you to put another's well-being in front of your own. What do you call that, if not being owned by someone else?"

After a moment, she slowly turned around to face him, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "You, Bane, have one fucked up view of love."

He shook his head. "No, I have a very logical view of love. And what happens when that love breaks? When it is there no more? What do you do then? You spend however many months that it takes for you to get over them, in a depression because you no longer have them. What is that, if not another, subtler form of control?"

Natalie held a look of disgust on her face as she shook her head, jaw tight and furious tears beading her eyes as her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Maybe, no matter how much you love someone, there's still the possibility that they could still slip through your fingers like water and there's nothing you can do about it. That's not control, Bane, that's chance. And if you love someone, then you're willing to risk that hurt!" She shook her head again. "But what am I doing here, debating the ethereal points of love, with a being who's never experienced it before?"

A look of rage speared through his eyes then as he marched over to her. "You think I do not know what love is? You think I am immune to human emotions, like-like some - automaton?" He shook his head and gave an angry laugh. "No, I have loved – I love someone to this very day, at this very hour, much to my abhorrence. I know its intricacies well - I know the way it wheedles into you and destroys everything you are. Love is a weakness, little one. And eventually, love will destroy you, as it eventually destroys all things."

She stood there and slowly shook her head for a moment, face expressionless. "I curse the woman who broke your heart so, Bane. And I give luck to the foolish one who thinks she can heal it."

She spared one last look at Barsad, and their gazes locked from across the way. Her eyes softened and grew concerned and her lips burned with the memories of his kiss. For a moment, they both thought she would run to him, but she refrained, knowing it would be worse for the both of them (him, significantly more-so) if she did. Somehow, simply by dancing with him, she had managed to wound Bane. And Bane, like always when he was hurt, was a volatile creature, no longer in control of his rage and his raw power. It was best to let sleeping dogs lie, and this was one sleeping dog she would not dare disturb. So, instead, she twirled around on her heel again and padded towards the double doors of the bedroom, where she threw them open. Stepping inside, she turned around and after pinning him with a freezing look, slammed them closed behind her. Bane heard the tumblers of the lock falling and gave a little laugh. It always amused him so, how she thought a mere flimsy lock would keep him out if he wanted in. But he allowed her to have the small thing, knowing how safe and secure it made her feel.

After a moment, Barsad's bitter chuckling, caused him to turn around to face him. Hand rubbing his throat, he shakily got to his feet and shook his head. "The two of you . . . fight like an old married couple."

Bane gazed at him for a moment before turning and moving off to the elevator. "Come with me. I have a mission for you."

"That no longer requires me to be here?" He asked, his voice growing much tighter than it ever had in relation to one of his direct orders, and Bane nodded.

"You will never step foot in this place again, Barsad. You will never see her again or be alone with her again except for extremely rare circumstances or under cases of emergency in which I can trust no other. Even then, you will find yourself with more of your brothers."

Barsad gave a bitter laugh. "How many times do we have to tell you that nothing happened before you start to believe us?" He asked before shaking his head when Bane ignored him. "Fine. You want her to love you, Bane? I can give you some advice," Barsad snapped and his tone and his words finally caused Bane to come to a slow stop. His teeth grit as he continued: "Be kind to her! You've thrust her into this position that would shake any woman, regardless of how strong she is. All she wants is a kindred soul – someone who will be kind to her. Show her you care for her – show her that you're not the monster she thinks you are even though I think it is more than useless after what she has just witnessed! You want her to think of herself as your queen instead of denying it with every fiber of her being like she did earlier, then for the love of God, show her that you can be a king she can respect and allow to protect her and return his love to! Otherwise, you will be forced to compete every day with that man you stole her away from!"

Bane slowly turned around to face him, a surprised and intrigued look in his eyes as he made a slow ways to his friend. Barsad held his place, though, and didn't flinch when he moved to loom over him. When he spoke, his voice was curious, almost awestruck. "You . . . love her, don't you?"

Barsad gazed at him for a moment before swallowing hard and looking away. "She is an amazing woman, Bane. Kind and smart and compassionate. You'd know that if you treated her with any amount of kindness. You'd know that, only if you spent any amount of time setting her at ease and getting to know her like I have," He continued to look away: "But, unfortunately, my feelings for her will never be reciprocated. There are only two men in her life, unfortunately, and neither of them, is me," He sent a cold look up towards him. "And, unfortunately - whether she realizes it or not - one of those men is also you. But I doubt you will do any of that for one simple reason: kindness and compassion and love, is not in your nature. Not anymore, anyway."

Bane continued to gaze down at him for a moment before averting his gaze to the ground. Barsad stood there as well before straightening up. "My book. I forgot my book." He spoke, and Bane turned his eyes up to his, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Book?" Barsad nodded.

"Yes, a . . ." He trailed off and glanced at him. Deciding that Bane would probably not care at that moment, he decided to keep it deliberately vague. "It's . . . nothing. Just a . . . frivolous book of poetry – it means nothing, but . . . I haven't finished it. And I really would like to. Can I get it back?"

Bane gazed at him for a moment before speaking. "You are fortunate you are still one of the only ones I can trust completely, Barsad, despite what I have witnessed today. And with Miranda still . . . largely an unknown to me, I cannot risk leaving my little one alone," His eyes moved up to his as he ignored his request. "You will still guard her but from the outside, this time. You will remain on watch out here, where you can see everyone and anyone who enters the floor and anyone and everyone who leaves. You will not step foot in that apartment unless under an emergency. You will not speak to her or have any amount of contact with her. You are her silent guardian – nothing more," He looked away again. "I'll have a camera installed in that corner to make sure."

Barsad blinked a couple of times in pure, unadulterated shock, and watched him stalk past him and back towards the front door of the apartment. He gave a laugh of disbelief and held open his arms, for the first time in his memory, actually challenging his leader's decisions. "Bane, you know how I feel about her now – that is cruelty! To have her so near but so far from me . . . that is madness!"

Bane stopped and turned to gaze at him. "Lucky for you, then, Barsad, that pain just happens to be quite freeing."