A/N—Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews and your patience in waiting for this chapter. I'm sure some of it will feel rushed or pushed but I just couldn't do any more with it. Thanks again for reading!

She'd gone to bed immediately after they talked, angry, hurt and confused. She lay curled in the sheets and first allowed herself to remember the warmth she'd felt with him so near to her, then when she was ready, she let her thoughts spin.

Jason had been a solid part of her life for a long time, and then he was gone. Her emotions had rollercoastered during those early days after the Wombosi mission had gone bad. First there had been no contact; the words 'dead' and 'compromised' had been thrown around, and then they thought he'd gone rogue. All of a sudden he was back in Paris and watching her with unknowing eyes while arguing with Conklin. She'd stood in shock, staring at him, taking only milliseconds to recognize that he wasn't merely keeping her out of the fight, but that he'd glossed over her entirely. She heard Conklin use the word 'malfunction' with Jason. He didn't know anything about himself, didn't remember a bit. He was somehow, someway broken. And in turn it broke her heart, both for him and for herself.

Berlin was after that and she thought she'd go clinically insane with finding out that he wanted to meet with her in Alexanderplatz, and then had in fact threatened to kill her.

It had taken her a long time to recover from their interaction in that bunker room. She'd shown resilience to her superiors but she was deeply shaken and they knew it.

The company relocated her to the relative calm of Madrid. She'd been settling in to her post and relishing in the familiarity of the job without traces of Jason everywhere.

She felt like she'd come a long way up until the night Daniels worked late and shut himself in his office. She'd sat at her desk doing mundane file updating when she realized he was out of his office and standing in front of her.

"Sir?" She'd looked up, caught off guard. "Are you alright?"

He sat down, hard, in the chair facing her. "You worked with Bourne."

Nicky felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach but tried to keep it together. "Yes, sir." She answered cautiously. Where was this going? Did she smell whiskey?

"You know about him? His importance?"

She sat back in her chair, pushing the folders she'd been working on to the side and chose her words carefully. "I wasn't involved with Treadstone until it was fully operational." She watched her boss and saw a man who was suddenly carrying a large weight on his shoulders. Something had happened behind the doors of his office that made him a different man coming out than he'd been going in. An email? A phone call? She didn't know.

"Training was relentless." Nicky wasn't sure he was even talking to her. "I could never go through what they were put through. It was necessary torture." He looked to her for understanding. She nodded solemnly in return. "I believed that. I really did."

He slouched slightly and his gaze shifted to a place over her shoulder. "Bourne was the first. They tried every trick they had and probably invented a few, too. Perfected the initiation. Over and over again. He nearly died, more than once, but that was the point. They perfected him. He was the absolute. Even now, our assets are good, nearly perfect. But not like Bourne. They made him the master, gave him everything." He gave a bitter, short laugh and his eyes lost their glaze as they met hers. She was staring at him, trying not to show her horror. He seemed to see her again and straightened up. "We're past Bourne though, right? He's off the grid. The agency says he's high priority but they don't even know where to look."

Nicky didn't know what to say. Daniels let out a long breath and put his hands on his knees. Saying all of the things he never should have to her seemed to lighten him slightly and confuse Nicky immensely. Why had he confided in her? How much danger were they in now that he had?

He sucked his teeth and stood. "I'm going to finish up. You go on. Call it a night."

She nodded in understanding. He wanted her to go. "Good night, sir." She gathered her coat and purse, leaving her work on the desk, and made for the door.

Nicky had gone home and slept fitfully. She'd tried so hard to put Jason in her past and now here he was again. In the morning she'd gone to work but Daniels never came in. By mid-morning she was nervous for his safety and by midday she was nervous for hers. She'd fought the urge all day to open the doors to his office and do a quick search, and finally she gave in. Early evening light was beginning to seep through the windows. A quick sweep of the space told her only that he'd left in a hurry. Coffee cup left out, papers scattered, a mess. He'd gotten out fast. Should she do the same? Daniels' computer monitor was off but the light blinking from the side told her the computer was still in fact on. Sloppy. She pushed the monitor button, and the bright glare flooded the dimly lit room. He must have been in hurry, maybe still drinking; on the monitor was the last site Daniels had been on. A wire transferring service and his receipt was on the screen. $100,000 to a bank in Tangiers, successful completion early this morning. He'd been gone all day. A good head start. Nicky swallowed hard and debated what to do. Within fifteen seconds she made her choice and logged him out of the system and turned off the computer. She grabbed her things once again and headed back down to the street. If it wasn't safe for Daniels then maybe she too should stay away from the office.

That thinking only held her for a few hours and she started to really think about what she'd done. She didn't know what her boss was doing. To cover up his mess without full knowledge was sheer stupidity on her part. She was sure she'd have some explaining to do and it would be very soon. For now, she decided, she'd lay low and go back to the office later. She put it off until late that night. Walking up the steps toward the office she half hoped he'd be there, that Daniels had changed his mind about running or whatever it is he was doing. If he hadn't, she realized, she'd have to make a choice. Stay and call it in, or do something insane-- quit, move, stop this life and try another. Was there really even a choice to be made?

And then her hand was on the doorknob and she was pulled inside.

In front of her. Gun aimed at her head. Again. Jason.

To her surprise the sheer panic didn't come. She was scared, yes, but calm too. One quick look around told her she'd been right to worry about both her and Daniels' safety. Two men on the floor. A phone call from Vosen, an easy lie, and she'd decided. Within a few minutes the scope of her life had changed. She'd made her choice.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

In the pre –dawn hours Nicky finally got out of bed. She'd fought with sleep and lost but at least she felt as though she'd come to some good conclusions about who she was and what she wanted. She padded softly through the small hallway and found Jason seated on the couch. He was looking at a map of South America.

She leaned against the doorjamb, watching silently. He'd heard her bed creak as she'd gotten up and the muffled footsteps against the floorboards coming this way. His head was down as he smoothed the map on the small coffee table.

"South America?" she questioned.

He nodded, eyes on the map. "Uruguay." He didn't look at her and his voice was low when he spoke. "For before. I'm sorry." Direct and simple but vaguely unemotional.

Nicky threw him a quick smile, grateful for the apology no matter how small. "Thanks." Her hair fell in her face as she tilted her head and she pushed it out of the way. A habit for her. She moved forward and lightly made her way to him, taking a seat on the same couch.

"I've been thinking," she started. "I've been thinking about what you said. About me. About me and how I treated Ben." Nicky inhaled deeply and shook her head slightly. "I wasn't dishonest with him, Jason.. Not with how I felt." She paused. "Or how I thought I felt." She shook her head again, still trying to clear her muddled thoughts on this topic. "I mean…" Ben's smile and quick laugh flashed in her mind. "I really thought that, in the situation, I thought things could work out." Really, it was simple.

"I get it." It was slow, as if it was painful having this conversation. "I do."

"I know you do," She affirmed. He looked up at her unable to hide his surprise. "I think it was similar for you. With Marie." Nicky desperately hoped she wasn't overstepping her bounds by bringing up her name.

Guilt caught his voice and he was surprised at how he let her hear it. "I don't know. I thought—" He looked straight on at Nicky. "Marie was special. She believed in me when I didn't even know who I was. She wanted to help—She was a good person." He stood and Nicky involuntarily grabbed his wrist. At his look she gently applied pressure and pulled him back down. "Tell me." She smiled.

Jason wanted to say it felt wrong, was wrong to talk about Marie with Nicky. But strangely he found himself wanting to tell her about her. And he did. "I don't want to think—not even for a second—that I didn't care for her. I told her I loved her. I thought it was true." Jason looked down again. "But I think—" he started slowly. "I think maybe—maybe I traded her for you. I didn't remember anything, but there was always something about you---maybe part of me knew, let her take your place…" His guilt and grief were in plain sight.

"Jason, no. Even with my limited amount of psych, what you had with Marie really had nothing to do with me." She smiled at him. "I don't know, maybe in the beginning you did 'transfer' feelings…but you were together for a very long time. Whatever emotion you felt for her, through me, that was limited. I don't have any doubts and really neither should you. She loved you." She paused. "And you loved her. And that's okay."

Jason looked at Nicky as she continued..\\\

"The two of us are swimming in this crazy mesh of past and present. It's not real or—it shouldn't be. I loved you." She shrugged. "I still love you—for who you were. For who I think you are now. And I never really let go of you. Never really moved on." Nicky swallowed. "But I should have."

Jason was still processing all of this-- the information, the fact that they were having this conversation. "I know." He said finally and then paused before going on. "I'm glad you didn't." He looked up at her then. "I can't explain any of this." He told her. "But—to have you here, just talking to you, it feels right." Nicky could see his bicep muscles stiffen and she knew he was stressed but needed to talk. "I nearly killed you in Berlin. But something stopped me, wouldn't let me. I felt pushed and trapped and it almost would have felt good to… I couldn't." His eyes locked on her, looking through her.

Nicky let out a long breath and the apartment was quiet. The two of them sat together on the couch in an uneasy silence, that as the light grew and the sun rose, grew more comfortable.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nicky stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was drying quickly thanks to the cool winter air and minimal heat of the apartment. Her face was the same but there was a peace to it that had been missing for a long time, a calm. Her hair color was now a dark chestnut and she'd streaked some lighter colors throughout. Not drastic but enough to change up the color slightly. She wouldn't have chosen this for herself under normal circumstances but her appearance would now be less likely to match any written description. Now for the cut. Nicky took a deep breath and picked up the shears that Jason had left for her along with the three hair coloring boxes. "Your choice," he'd said. "But it's time."

She wasn't a stylist but she was relatively pleased with the simple bob cut she'd given herself. There were longer pieces in the back that she couldn't quite reach but overall she could do a lot with it.

Nicky towel dried her hair a bit more and when she lifted the towel she was surprised to see Jason there, staring at her in the mirror.

"Looks good. Different."

She turned to face him as her hand involuntarily went to touch her hair. "Yeah? Not too bad." She offered him a quick smile. "I'm just about ready."

He nodded. He'd been completely honest with her when he'd said he just felt 'right' being with her and talking to her. But not complete. He was now Now he was driven to touch her. Then, he felt, he'd feel whole again.

He stepped toward her and put a hand forward, touching the shortness of her hair. They were so close. "Please," he whispered, his eyes watching her as he leaned forward.

"Jason…" She whispered back, not in defense, but just to say his name again. She closed her eyes and moved toward him accepting and returning his kiss, lightly at first and then more demanding. His hands were holding her face, her neck, moving the towel away from her shoulders and kissing her neck before returning to her mouth, eager for the simple pleasure of just holding her like this.