A/N: Yes, I'm reposting this chapter because there were issues I had to address.

~Sandy

"Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string."

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

The Iron String

Chapter 11

Ryan raised his hands up and away from his body without being told. The M4 was wrenched away from him then he was quickly patted down, his service weapon and phone taken as well. A prod against the back of his left shoulder told him to turn around. He did, and saw exactly what he expected: Blanchard holding a silver Beretta aimed between his eyes.

The comm officer called to him over and over until Blanchard signaled for him to answer. "Say again, base. I was in a dead zone."

"Your pals're off the grid, Victor-two-seven. What's your twenty? I'll send back-up."

Another warning nod from Blanchard with the meaning coming through loud and clear. Not a word or you're dead.

Thinking fast, Ryan said, "Never mind, base. Found 'em. We're going on radio silence."

"Roger, Two-seven."

"By the way, remind Castle he still owes me twenty bucks from last week's poker game."

Ryan could hear the smile in the other man's voice. "I'll tell him, Two-seven. Good luck catchin' the bad guy."

Taking the headset from his ear, he passed it to Blanchard who dropped it to the floor and stomped on it. Blanchard gestured and Ryan started walking, speaking as he went, "You know, taking a hostage is never a good idea, pal. The NYPD doesn't negotiate with terrorists." The other man coughed, deep racking sounds that made Ryan's throat hurt. "You okay, Blanchard?"

"Boyd. My name is Peter Boyd."

~~O~~

Over the comm officer's shoulder, Castle kept an eye on the teams and their locations, trying to keep the chatter sorted out. His usual MO was to have Beckett's back, but she'd convinced him to remain in the comm vehicle for the operation. He frowned. Maybe "convinced" was the wrong word. More like "commanded." She hadn't given him a choice and neither had Lieutenant Cappicelli. They'd closed the door in his face when he tried to follow.

Ryan's reminder puzzled the author because he hadn't played poker with his team in months. He'd played with his Gotham City crew, James Patterson, Tom Clancy and a new player, Michael Connelly. Castle and Connelly had made a little side wager with Connelly on the losing end. He remembered telling the boys about it because it involved one of their favorite actresses that Castle had net while in Hollywood negotiating the movie rights to a second Nikki Heat flick. Why would Ryan bring it up at a time like this when all his energy should be focused on staying alive?

Then, the light bulb came on! Castle dropped into the empty chair next to the comm officer. "Get Beckett and Cappicelli on the line!"

"Base to Beckett and Cappicelli." When they were on, he nodded at Castle. "Go."

"Beckett, Ryan and I haven't played poker since May. The big loser in last week's game was Michael Connelly. Blanchard's first name is Michael. Ryan is Blanchard's hostage!" Over the air, he heard Beckett and Cappicelli conferring, his fiancée defending what was for the author a not so wild theory.

"Agreed, Castle. What I'd like to know is how did he get separated from two experienced agents? They should've been keeping an eye on him."

"Their assignment was an office building three blocks east. Espo, Sheppard and I'll head over there," Beckett interjected.

The comm officer was already pounding away at his computer. Flipping a switch, he started the playback. "This is the call without voice." Gentle splashing could be heard echoing. "There's a sewer line that runs under that building. One of the branches comes up under the United Nations. Alpha-Whiskey-niner-three."

"We got it. Give us ten then go to radio silence."

"Yes, ma'am. We also just got word that the UN and all buildings for a two block radius have been evacuated."

Beckett conferred with Cappicelli then they heard her footsteps moving away from the main group. "Espo, Sheppard and I are headed there now. Be there in ten."

Pulling at his lower lip, Castle shook his head. "Just make sure you bring Ryan home, guys."

This time Esposito answered. "Will do. Blanchard isn't taking another life on our watch. Especially Ryan's."

His voice soft so it wouldn't carry, Castle whispered, "Good luck."

Chatter among the teams was minimal and uninteresting leading Castle's mind to wonder until his phone rang. The caller ID showing a photo of a glowing Alexis standing behind a young man with shaggy dark hair. "Hi honey. Please tell me you're not canceling dinner tomorrow because I've planned a very special vegan menu just for Pi."

"Of course not. I just called to let you know it'll just be me. Pi's out of town for a couple of days."

Castle made a fist pump and silently rejoiced though he didn't let it show in his voice. "I'm sorry, honey. Pizza and ice cream?"

"Make it the usual. I'll come early and give you a chance to win back the Castle Guitar Hero crown, but don't count on it."

He hung up the phone with a smile. They may not have their old relationship back yet, but it was getting there. Needing some air, the author left the communications van intending to walk over to the closest Java Loft, but it, like everything else, had been evacuated. Instead, he roamed around restlessly, worried about his friends.

"Hey. You a cop?"

Turning in a circle, Castle located a young woman waving to get his attention. "I'm Richard Castle, a consultant with the police department. Something I can do for you?"

She shrugged one shoulder, staring down at her hands twisting together nervously. "I, uh, that cop, Esposito told me to stay in the car, but I had to see what was goin' on 'cause I know the guy they're chasin'."

What she said got Castle's attention. "How do you know him?"

"Guess I can tell you 'cause Esposito and his friends promised they wouldn't arrest me or nothin'. I worked for him."

Ducking under the yellow tape, Castle led her around the corner to the Java Loft's outside patio. "I'd get you a coffee, but…"

A police vehicle drove slowly past, gave them a cursory glance and kept going. "What's goin' on? Is Michael gonna be okay?" Her voice sounded sorrowful, and he could tell she needed someone to talk to.

"I hope so." Castle rolled his chair closer, resting his elbows on his thighs. "Are you and Michael Blanchard…"

Her head came up and she glared at him. "We weren't sleepin' together. I'm his friend. He didn't have no family or nothin', and just seemed so sad all the time. Esposito and those other guys, they said Michael's done some bad things. Worse than makin' and sellin' drugs. Like maybe he killed people or was gonna kill them."

A flurry of angry voices sounded in Castle's ear, and he touched the headset, but didn't speak. If this thing was going down, he needed to stay out of it and not distract the police from doing their jobs.

"What's happenin'?"

Castle listened for another few seconds before answering. "Your friend has taken a hostage, a homicide detective by the name of Kevin Ryan."

The woman's hands went to her mouth and a small moan vibrated in her throat. "No…"

Getting to his feet, Castle took her by the arm and led her back toward the command post. "Come with me."

Rushing to keep up with his quick strides, she asked, "Where we goin'?"

At the van, he opened the back, helped her up then followed her in. "He's asking for you, Marta."

"I'm not Marta. She's like an ex-wife or an old girlfriend or something. He's been kinda sick lately, and sometimes he thought I was her."

Rubbing his head, Castle said, "Maybe you can help. Come with me."

~~O~~

Standing in a dark corner, Harper and Aaron listened to the talk between Castle, Beckett, Esposito and Cappicelli. If they wanted to take Outcome 3 alive, they had to be quick or he might elect to commit suicide by cop. Harper didn't think that a likely scenario, but it had to be considered.

The drugs Blanchard was taking indicated a very serious condition. One for which there was no cure. Beckett's people had done some checking and found that the prescriptions hadn't been refilled since three weeks earlier. If he wasn't taking the corticosteroid, then his condition would deteriorate rapidly.

She hadn't shared any of this with Aaron, but he had to have known and chose to ignore it. The Aaron she'd known as Kenneth Kitsom had been naïve and idealistic. He always saw the best in everyone, and it had been difficult seeing some of the changes that she now knew came about because of the program medications.

Her Kenny was still in there somewhere because she knew Aaron was determined to save Blanchard from himself, if possible. But if it came down to a choice between Blanchard and Ryan, the answer was simple. Ryan had a wife and child, a family. Blanchard had no one. Just the two of them to look out for him.

With Aaron in the lead, Harper kept her ears attuned to any sounds that didn't belong. Nothing stood out as they made their way through Ryan's assigned search area. Once there, she could hear water and smell the nastiness of the sewers that ran underneath the city.

The door was open less than half an inch. Aaron signaled, counted to three then shoved the door open. Harper darted through, her weapon ready to speak for her if need be, but it turned out to be unnecessary as they were alone. Then voices ahead drew them deeper into the tunnels.

They reached the junction, she and Aaron both listening to voices and footsteps moving through the tunnels. Blanchard's voice sounded not completely sane to go by what he was saying, most of which didn't make much sense. On the other hand, Ryan's voice was calm and relaxed, as if he was out for an afternoon stroll. Esposito had called him hot-headed, but that wasn't what they were hearing. The detective kept his tone laid-back and chatty, engaging Blanchard in conversation, trying to draw him out.

As if reading one another's minds, Aaron and Harper increased their speed until they were nearly running. Another tunnel joined this one, and according to the schematics, there was an access to the UN building up ahead.

Aaron inched up to the corner and peeked around, pulling his head back before he was seen. Through hand signals, he let Harper know that Blanchard and Ryan had ascended into the building they were now standing under.

Peering down the tunnel that stretched out at right angles to that one, she saw a backpack and duffle bag. Stepping into the water, she crossed to the other side, slung the M4 over her shoulder and examined them for booby traps. Tilting her head to the side, she listened then sniffed the bags, hearing and smelling nothing that would indicate they contained bombs.

Taking the duffle bag first, she carefully unzipped it and spread the sides. The bag contained several canisters and timing devices that hadn't yet been connected. Harper found the same things in the backpack. If this was how he planned on dosing the occupants of the UN, why had he left it here?

Aaron appeared at her side and she showed him what she found. Keeping her voice low, she told him her theory. "He knew we were here when he found Ryan so why didn't he just head for his secondary target?"

"We don't know that he has a secondary target. If he's as sick as you say, he may not be rational."

"That's a certainty or he wouldn't be here in the first place." Taking the timers out, she set about disabling them one at a time just in case they were wrong. "We need to catch up to him before…"

Aaron's hand came up for silence, a finger to his headset to indicate he was listening. Harper had taken hers out, replacing it just in time to hear Blanchard making demands. From the sound of it, he was inside the UN building, talking on the phone to a hostage negotiator. It wasn't going well. No matter what the man said, Blanchard would demand to see Marta. He wouldn't speak to the negotiator until he talked to her first, giving them thirty minutes to bring her to him.

"That's not going to work in our favor," Aaron told her. "Marta lives in California. Unless Sheppard can get Carter to transport her to New York, there's no way they can get her here by the deadline."

One hand in his hair, he paced a couple of steps away, turned and came back. Harper got an idea at the same time Aaron did. He activated his headset, "Victor two-five to base."

Lieutenant Cappicelli responded to his call, "Go ahead, Two-six."

"There's a young woman named Sherry Heffernan sitting in a Ford SUV. Esposito and Sheppard will give you the location. She told us Blanchard sometimes mistook her for Dr. Marta Shearing. His physical and mental conditions are deteriorating so maybe we can use that to our advantage."

A snort came through the headset. "Way ahead of you, Cross. She's already here."

"Good. Finley and I'll make our way inside just in case."

"Roger, Two-six. Cappicelli out."

The former Outcome agents retraced their steps back to the junction and in just a few minutes they came up inside the basement of the UN building. When they reached door at the top of the stairs, Blanchard's voice could be heard rambling about missions and assassinations. Then, he would stop and move onto another subject such as his childhood in Guatemala. About how his family had all been killed in the final days of the civil war after which he emigrated to the United States, and how, in 2006 he'd been recruited into the Outcome program.

Aaron started forward, Harper guessed to stop him before he gave away even more government secrets. They were brought up short when they heard Lieutenant Cappicelli using a bullhorn.

"Michael Blanchard, please answer the phone."

The jangle of a cell ringer ended abruptly, but it wasn't Blanchard who answered it. "Yeah, this is Ryan…No worries…He's requested that I pass along this message. His name is not Michael Blanchard. It's Peter Boyd…That's what he said…Yes…Dr. Shearing must come alone and unarmed then he'll let me go…Yes, that's what he said…Her for me…I wouldn't make the trade, if I were you, Lieutenant…Because there's more going on here than…Ow!"

Harper peeked around the corner just as Blanchard struck the detective on the side of the head. Ryan lost his balance, probably due to his still weakened condition, and fell, thankfully landing on the carpeting instead of the tile floor. He looked up and caught Harper's eye. With a small nod he indicated he was fine though a small trickle of blood ran from his temple. Wisely, the detective stayed down pretending to be barely conscious.

Blanchard picked up the phone, barking orders, "Send Marta in now or I'll kill him." To show he was serious, he used his thumb to pull back the hammer. "You have to the count of three. One…two…"

~~O~~

Over his shoulder, Cappicelli said, "Take her back to the van. We're going another route. Branson, prepare a couple of flashbangs and follow them up with teargas. Then on my mark, we go in."

To Sherry that meant they planned on killing Michael and she didn't want that. Slowly, she separated herself from the cop guarding her then, while his attention was on his boss, she took off running toward the front of the building.

"Stop! Come back here! Someone get a Taser on her."

But before that could happen, she wrenched the door open and darted inside. Looking around frantically, she found Michael sitting in an overstuffed lobby chair chosen more for its look than for comfort. He had a silver gun aimed at the guy on the floor, a man she recognized as Detective Ryan.

The cell phone on the table to his left rang, but he ignored it. And then he saw her. Slowly he got to his feet, taking a few steps forward, his eyes never leaving her face. "Marta?"

Taking a deep breath and remembering what she'd overheard, she nodded. "Hello, Peter."

When he got close enough, he reached out and touched her face. "It's really you. When I heard about the shooting at the lab…"

"I'm fine, Peter. See?" Taking his hand, Sherry smiled fondly hoping he would take it for love. He led her to the sofa, keeping a tight hold on her hand as if she were a lifeline. With her free hand, she touched him on the cheek. "I'm here with you now. You can let Detective Ryan go. I won't let them hurt you."

Instead of getting angry as he had before, his expression changed to that of a little boy ashamed of something he'd done. He nodded. "Okay, if you promise not to leave me again."

"I promise." While Michael's attention was on her, Ryan had gotten to his feet, moving himself into a position where he could get the weapon. Using just her eyes and a slight head shake, Sherry told Ryan to leave. He shook no, and Michael turned to see what she was looking at. To stop him, she said, "I'm so glad we're together again. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Marta. When you told me to move out, I thought my world had come to an end. That you didn't love me anymore."

No wonder he looked so sad. The woman he loved dumped him. "I'll never stop loving you. How about if we go home now? I'll make dinner and open a bottle of wine."

Michael's attention was captured by Ryan sidling over to the front door. "Where the hell are you going?"

Michael swept up the silver gun, aiming at Ryan who stopped in his tracks. Sherry jumped up, grabbing his arm. "No, Peter! Please, don't shoot him!"

He paused, his finger still caressing the trigger, and looking into her eyes pleading with him again. However, this time she got a different reaction. "Marta? How did you get here? I thought you were dead."

Now Sherry started to cry. "I'm here, Peter."

Running footsteps came from the direction of the elevators, Cross and Finley bursting onto the scene with nasty looking automatic weapons pointed at Michael. She didn't stop to think about the consequences of her actions when she jumped between the gun and Michael. "No!"

~~O~~

Leveling the M4 at Blanchard's back, Aaron saw that Harper had done the same. Holding his right hand up, he counted down from three to zero and they surged into the lobby, taking in Blanchard's weapon pointed at Ryan who was standing in the middle of an open area with no chance to take cover.

Before Aaron could squeeze the trigger, Sherry placed herself in harm's way. "No!" Then, proving that she was much smarter than they'd given her credit for, she slowly reached up and laid her hand over Blanchard's where it gripped the Berretta. Moving her hand forward, she wrapped her fingers around the barrel of the weapon. "Give me the gun, Peter."

Slowly, he turned to look at her. "Why? It's my gun. They can't have it."

"Because, if you don't they're going to kill you. I don't want you to die." Blanchard's grip relaxed leaving Sherry holding the gun. She lowered her arm to her side then held the gun out for someone to take. Aaron nodded to Harper and she did the honors, engaging the safety before handing it to Ryan as evidence.

Still on alert, Aaron swung around when footsteps came at them from the back of the building. Beckett, Esposito and Sheppard joined them, Aaron motioning that all was under control. The two cops lowered their weapons, puzzled at the scene before them.

Beckett tapped her headset. "Stand down. Situation is resolved. Repeat, all units stand down."

"I'm sorry, Peter, but you're gonna have to go with these people for a while." He nodded and Sherry gestured for Esposito to cuff him.

But before the detective could take more than a step, Blanchard cried out in pain, clutching at his head. His knees gave out and he fell to the floor still hold his head and moaning. Blanchard went into convulsions, his body shaking uncontrollably. Esposito shouted into his headset, "Get a medic in here! Stat!"

Within seconds the lobby was swarming with paramedics, SWAT and Homeland Security all talking at once. Aaron, Harper, Esposito, Ryan and Sherry stood in a cluster watching this new chapter of the drama unfold as Blanchard had one seizure after another. The paramedics were finally able to insert an IV and administer an anti-convulsive. The shaking slowed down and stopped. Aaron breathed a sigh of relief, but it was only a momentary respite.

The high-pitched drone of the heart monitor announced that Blanchard's heart had stopped. The defibrillator whined through the startup sequence, one of the medics shouted, "Clear!" and hit him.

The monitor flatlined again. The medic hit him three more times before shutting the device off and saying to his partner, "Call it."

Looking at her watch, she sighed. "1456. I'm sorry. He's gone."

Moving to Sherry's side, Aaron touched her on the shoulder, giving her a sympathetic nod. She returned it and let Esposito lead her away from the scene, telling her as gently as possible, "You did good. Come on. I'll buy you a cup of coffee."

Watching them go, Aaron felt Harper come up beside him. She nodded and he followed her out the front door to join the others.

The Twelfth Precinct

Hours Later

Sitting at Ryan's desk and pointing to a particular piece of data displayed on the screen, Aaron spoke over his shoulder, "Harper."

"Yes. I see it." Her voice became distracted as she read the information along with him.

"You know what this means."

Nodding, she restated what they were seeing for the benefit of the others. "Because those who took Trance aren't receiving regular doses to lock it in, the drug will begin to lose his effectiveness in the next four to six weeks, depending on the blood type."

The relief from his companions was palpable, Esposito saying under his breath, "Thank God."

"So we just let it go then." This was Beckett's contribution. "What about the people already 'infected'?"

"Any after effects will slowly wear off for most of them. At least that's what your space doctors are saying, Shepp." Aaron exchanged an amused glance with Harper. "The possibility exists that as many as three percent will retain the enhancements though to a lesser extent than what Harper and I have. To know for certain, they would have to study several subjects over the course of several years."

Having already read the materials, Harper was fully cognizant of everything the SGC's doctors had learned, but Beckett and Castle didn't know about the Stargate program. Knowing the others would understand, she said, "Fortunately, the military has everything they need in Ryan and a few others."

Esposito waved a hand. "Whoa! Ryan's gonna let some freaky military doctors experiment on him?"

Almost growling, Ryan slapped his partner on the shoulder. "Let it go, Espo. It's not a big deal."

Sheppard crossed his arms, his expression sliding into annoyance. "First, Ryan doesn't have a choice. Second, they aren't going to experiment on him. Just do a complete physical workup once every three months for the next year or so. They've also asked him to keep a log of any unusual symptoms."

Aaron mirrored Sheppard's pose, but with his knees crossed. "And third?"

Sheppard's expression changed to one of contrition. "Freaky is the norm with most of our doctors and scientists, but they would never do anything unsanctioned."

Esposito shifted his feet accepting the explanation. "What happened to Blanchard's body?"

The Air Force officer sighed. "Being autopsied as we speak. I'll let you know the results when they're done."

Harper leaned against the counter. "From the drugs he was taking, it sounds like a brain tumor or metastatic cancer."

"Oh-h, that's harsh," Castle added, genuinely sorry at the loss of life despite the uproar Blanchard caused.

Though the man Aaron knew as Outcome 3 had created so much chaos and death, he still wished there had been another way. He also wished that Michael Blanchard, Peter Boyd, whoever he was, had died in Alaska. Not only would it have prevented recent events, it would also have saved Blanchard from having to deal with the knowledge that he had contracted a terminal illness that robbed him of his brilliant mind. It also made Aaron wonder if the disease was a result of the enhancements or viraling off the chems. Nothing good would come from worrying so he put it out of his mind.

~~O~~

Gates closed her office door after commending the job they'd all done to keep the United Nations members and their countries safe from Trance, and preventing a major international incident. Her low-key "Good work" had Aaron rolling his eyes. The looks on the faces around him indicated this was high praise, however, so he took it as such.

"Hey, Cross." Esposito crossed his arms as the babble of voices, mostly female, increased. "Remember that bet?"

"Yep. You ready?"

"Are you?" Esposito's smirk threatened to get out of control.

When they entered the hall outside the bullpen, he was assaulted by scents that nearly overwhelmed his senses. Time for me to win a bet.

Beckett and Castle looked confused as they followed the others out into the hall. The author tapped Ryan on the shoulder. "What's going on?"

In a stage whisper, Ryan said, "Cross says he can pick Javi's girlfriend from a crowd without a description or seeing a photo."

"Profiling?"

"Naw. Has this weird nose thing. Says he can smell her."

Women of every size, shape, hair color and race milled around talking and laughing together. Some were on their phones while others sipped coffee or water. A few were in uniform, but most were in street clothes.

Esposito carefully watched Aaron for any sign of hesitation. The detective was backed up by his partners, Ryan, Castle and Beckett. Other officers and detectives looked on from doorways and offices. Aaron was more than ready to put his pal in his place and he'd do it in front of witnesses.

Separating himself from the group, Esposito raised his voice to be heard over the noise. "Ladies! Can I have your attention please?" The women got quiet, and it was apparent from their smiles and demeanor that they'd been informed of the reason they'd been asked to congregate in this particular place at this particular time. "Thank you all for coming. Once again, let me caution you against doing or saying anything that might alter the parameters of the wager. You're up, Cross. Show us what you got."

Nodding, Aaron walked among the group smiling and greeting each woman while inhaling her fragrance. Though many were similar, each was subtly different from the others. There were eleven women, and when he'd finished his assessment, Aaron faced Esposito, his features carefully arranged to give his friend a false sense of security. When Esposito started to get antsy, Aaron gave him a big smile, turned and extended his hand…to Lanie Parrish. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

The ME shook Aaron's hand, returning his smile of welcome. "Dr. Lanie Parrish. And you're Aaron Cross." She aimed a mild glare at Esposito. "Javi and I have known each other for almost ten years and all he's told me about you is your name."

The other women left the area giving Aaron some relief from the concentration of odors and sounds. He extended his arm. "We can get to know each other over dinner. Which is on Javi by the way."

"I'd be delighted, Aaron." With a smile, she went to the elevator on Aaron's arm. They were belatedly joined by Esposito, Castle, Beckett, Sheppard and Harper.

Annoyed, Esposito said, "You cheated, Cross. Don't know how, but you cheated."

Castle hit the button for the first floor, grinning. "Just keep telling yourself that and you might even believe it one day."

~~O~~

In his room at the hotel where he and Harper were staying, Aaron stood looking out the window while she was in the bathroom. His stomach growled to remind him that he hadn't eaten since before dawn. Outside, the city was teeming with life, but it all seemed so far away at the moment. As if the two of them were so removed that no one would ever be able to get to them or hurt anyone they cared about ever again. It wasn't true, of course.

The bathroom light went out and the door opened. Harper had taken her hair down and it now hung in gentle waves to her shoulders. During the explosion, when he'd tackled her to the ground, he recalled the feel of those brown and blonde strands brushing his cheek and the side of his neck. At the time, it hadn't registered, but now, with the threat of Trance eliminated, his mind played back every second of that time. The texture of her clothing, her warm breath panting against his ear, and most of all, the feel of her strong, slim body pressed intimately against his, even if the purpose had been to save their lives.

Though she made little sound, Aaron still knew she was behind him before she touched his shoulder. "What're you looking at, Aaron?"

"Nothing. Just thinking." He faced her, tilting his head down slightly in order to see her eyes.

"What about?"

Shoving one hand in his pocket, he shrugged that same shoulder. "Home. I've got a business to run."

Harper tilted her head to the side and smiled. "You know, I've been thinking of making a little side trip before heading home myself."

Aaron's smile matched hers. "Oh?"

She nodded, her smile widening. "Never been to Nashville."

"I could show you around, if you like." The hand in his pocket came out as he took a single step forward just as Harper did the same, closing the distance between them.

"Sounds like fun. What else?" Her smile changed to a grin when he took hold of both hands, and took another step forward. This time Harper stepped backward tugging him along with her as she moved toward the foot of the bed.

She released him, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders. Taking that as an invitation, settled his palms on her waist, moving them around to the small of her back. Instead of pulling her to him, he moved forward until they were less than an inch apart while her hands skimmed over his shoulders stopping every inch or so to give a small squeeze until she reached his neck.

At the foot of the bed, he kept moving forward holding tight to Harper as they fell in slow motion onto the firm mattress. He planted his left knee next to her right hip and brought his right one up on the opposite side. Using her elbows and feet, Harper scooted toward the head of the bed and Aaron followed like a magnet.

Her head hit the pillow and she lay there looking up at him. Slowly, she brought first one hand then the other up to frame his face. Definitely an invitation, which he accepted.

Bending his elbows brought his body down to rest all along the front of hers, their mouths so close he felt it would be an insult if he didn't kiss her, so he did. Slowly he coaxed her into opening up to him though it seemed more like she was doing the enticing. Aaron had always wanted to be close to her making this a dream come true.

Harper hadn't mentioned a long-term relationship making him uncertain if they really knew each other as well as they should before taking their relationship past the friendship stage.

Friendship? Who are you kidding? You're in love with her. Always have been.

Being with her again had brought all the old memories out of the dusty closet they'd been stored in reminding him of the enjoyable sensation of having a friend who knows the real you and likes you anyway.

"Aaron?"

Until she spoke, Aaron hadn't realized that he'd gone still. Rolling to the side, he lay next to her on the bed, both in similar poses, hands clasped over their stomachs and breathing faster than normal. He turned to look at her and found her looking back. Turning onto her side, she propped her head up, eyes flickering over his face and coming back to his eyes. "Marta?"

"Yes and no. It's been over for a while, but…"

She smiled in understanding. "If you're not ready for anything more, I won't be upset or offended. Easy-peasy."

He mirrored her position. "So what about you? Any ghosts of boyfriends past I should worry about?"

She used her finger to trace the collar of his T-shirt. "Three years ago, my handler sent me on a mission to the UK to infiltrate an underground movement to overthrow the British government. Getting inside, that was easy. Getting out again, not so much.

"I'd been with them about three weeks when I met Roger. He was…"

Aaron continued to watch her, letting a lopsided smile show. "Five foot nine, sandy hair, blue eyes…" he flexed his right bicep, "…muscular and a fantastic kisser?"

She reached down to slap his thigh. "Italian, six-three, brown eyes, built like a football player, American football, not soccer, and a phenomenal kisser. We danced around each other for weeks before getting down to business. We were still going hot and heavy months later when I finally uncovered the identities of the leaders of the movement.

"Everything was coming to a head and I was ordered to get out before they stormed the compound. By then I knew that none of them would go down without a fight so I tried to get him to leave with me, but he refused. Roger really believed in what they were doing, that they could take over the government and implement their own régime in its place. Nothing I said would convince him otherwise." She took a deep breath and let it out. "Not even telling him I loved him."

"And did you love him?"

A sad smile turned up her mouth. "Not in the way I wanted to, but yes." She sighed, and looked up at him. "He'll be in prison for the rest of his life. The point is I got over him and refused to let the fact that he didn't love me keep me from dancing within the flames."

His hand found hers and held on tight. "Sounds like a country western song."

Her laugh ended on a snort making them both laugh out loud. "It is, silly. You live in the country western capital of the world and you've never heard of Garth Brooks?"

"Yeah, but I'm more of a classic rock kinda guy."

She squeezed his hand and let go to cover a yawn. Aaron lay down, urging her closer, wrapping her in his embrace. Harper pillowed her head on his shoulder, and in a few minutes, both were asleep.

TBC