Author's note: I started writing this story months before I started posting it, and we're now getting close to catching up to where I am with the writing! But I am going to try to keep posting a new chapter every week or so, hopefully until the end! And yes, I do know how it ends.

Thank you, as ever, for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting.

Characters have never been mine, but maybe Casey will come knocking someday, you never know.

Chapter 13

It wasn't that he didn't trust her judgement. Hell, he knew she could take care of herself, it was one of the things he loved about her, but as he stood in the weak sunshine, squinting towards the horizon for another glimpse of her, Casey found himself wishing that Nic's job didn't currently involve riding pillion on a dirtbike while filming competitors racing at a speed that he wasn't sure should be legal in knee deep mud. When she'd talked about coming to Wales to film some follow up after the rally, he'd assumed she meant interviewing people, and to be fair she'd spent the morning doing that; but there definitely hadn't been any mention of spending the afternoon balancing one handed on the back of a bike while holding a camera in the other.

There was no sign of her in the portion of the course he could see from here, but with its hills and trees, that wasn't surprising. He rubbed his hands over his face. Maybe it would be easier when she was away on assignments and he didn't know what she was doing. Maybe it would be worse. And what would it be like for her, knowing he was on a mission? She could joke about firearms all she wanted, but how would she feel knowing he was out there facing them? She'd certainly never be able to watch him work… But then maybe watching your fiancé hack security systems or shoot bad guys wouldn't be much of a fun day out anyway.

Matt appeared beside him, proffering a cardboard cup of coffee. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Casey took the coffee and grunted in reply, his eyes still fixed on the course.

"Jo won't come and watch me," Matt commented. "Says she can't bear it these days, now we've got the kids. And she won't let them watch in case they decide they want to be like daddy when they grow up."

Casey managed a half smile. "Megan on a motorbike?"

"She'd ride now if she could. She's got a plastic trike for the back garden, and she rides it around making engine noises and shouting things she's heard off of the guys – nothing a five year old should be saying, basically!"

Casey laughed. Megan had insisted on sitting between himself and Nic at breakfast, and he had to admit the kid was cute.

Matt gestured to a bike coming over the crest of the hill, another right beside it. "There's your girl!"

Casey squinted and saw that Matt was right, Nic was riding pillion on one of the bikes, camera held in one hand, as the rider moved fast over the sodden ground, her body shifting with the bike but looking none too stable.

"What was that you said about taking risks?" Casey asked Matt with heavy irony.

Matt shrugged, "Ah, I've seen her do much worse. Before she met you, I mean." He added quickly as Casey growled.

The two bikes were drawing close now, and Casey could see Nic clearly as she turned her camera to capture the competitor in profile. Just then, the competitor's bike skidded slightly to the right, and Nic's driver swerved to avoid a collision. Balanced with only one hand holding the seat, Nic had no chance of staying on. She dropped the camera and rolled as she fell, and Casey saw her bring her arm up to protect her head as she hit the ground.

He tasted acid fear in his mouth as he crossed the ground at as much of a run as the muddy terrain would allow. The competitor had continued on unaware, but Nic's driver had pulled up and was now bent over her on the ground.

"Nic!" Casey shouted.

The driver turned at the sound of his voice, and Casey could finally see Nic, covered in mud but clearly conscious. She was propped up on one elbow, her helmet already off, and Casey dropped to his knees next to her.

"Are you hurt?" He automatically scanned her, assessing for injury, noting that the sleeve of her jacket was shredded and her exposed arm grazed, but he couldn't see much else for the mud.

"I'm fine!" She sounded annoyed rather than hurt, and the way she rolled her eyes reassured him a little. "Well, I say fine," She gestured to her wrist. "I think this might need an X-ray."

He ran his fingers down her grazed arm, and felt the swelling from the middle of her forearm down to her fingers. She tried to hide it, but he heard the gasp of pain.

"We need to immobilise it. Did you hit your head?" It was a drill he'd been through countless times, but not with someone he loved.

"No. Definitely not, even with the helmet on." She made eye contact with him as he helped her to a sitting position, careful to avoid her injured arm. "John, I'm fine. I just slipped." Her tone was impatient.

"Any other injuries?"

She rolled her eyes again, and this time it annoyed him. "I banged my knee. But I can bend it, so it's fine. I told you, I'm fine."

He raised an eyebrow and gave her the look that had been known to freeze the blood of new recruits.

"Okay," She conceded tetchily. "I might have broken my wrist, and it might have been a tiny bit stupid to ride pillion like that, but all we're looking at is a few hours in the emergency room and a plaster cast. It won't be the first time, and it's not a big deal."

"You have got to be joking." He said from between gritted teeth. "It is a big fucking deal."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "My job involves risks too." She hissed. "Deal with it."

Matt cleared his throat. "Much as I don't want to interrupt, can I suggest you continue your discussion at the hospital?"

Casey was too angry to speak to Nic while he drove the Landover to the hospital, and judging by her furious expression, she felt the same. Thankfully they barely had to wait fifteen minutes for Nic to be seen, and while she was being examined and X-rayed, Casey rang the airline and postponed their flight back to LA for the second time.

By the time Nic walked – or rather limped - back into the waiting area ninety minutes later, her right forearm encased in a plaster cast and sporting a fetching pair of oversized scrubs in place of her mud caked clothes, Casey had calmed down enough to inform her stonily that they were going to a nearby hotel for the night rather than getting the red eye back to LA. Nic had calmed down enough to thank him through gritted teeth, and let him help her into the car.

Five minutes into the journey, she sighed and broke the silence.

"Okay, enough. When I'm embarrassed I get defensive. So I'm sorry."

Casey glanced over at her. She was blushing slightly and not quite meeting his eyes. He realised how much it must have cost her to apologise, and it drained the remaining anger out of him.

"I'm sorry too." He reached for her knee and squeezed it briefly before returning his hand to the wheel.

The owner of the hotel knew Matt, and as a result had given them a room with an amazing view, and a huge comfortable bed. Casey ferried their bags to the room while Nic settled herself on the bed, visibly trying not to wince as she tried to find a comfortable position for her arm and knee. He grabbed extra cushions from the windowseat and helped her get the right angle, then joined her on the bed, sitting on her other side so as not to risk jolting her injuries.

"Fuck's sake." She sighed. "I'd forgotten what a pain these things are."

"How many bones have you broken?" He asked.

"Um… this arm is the first time, but I've broken my left arm twice, my right leg once, and the occasional finger; don't ask me which ones because I've lost track."

He raised an eyebrow. "More than me then. Though I'm with you on the fingers."

"Ah, but you definitely beat me on gunshot wounds." She smirked. Then her eyes softened and she leant against him.

"I'm sorry. I must have scared you."

He reached a hand up and stroked her hair, then slid his arm around her shoulders. "Yup." He realised he didn't need to say anything else. He wasn't angry any more.

"I used to be like that all the time." She said, staring across the room and out of the window as she spoke. "It was just what I did. But then Afghanistan happened, and I met you, and when I was on the rally, things were a bit different. But I don't know… I still wonder if the risk taking, if that's what makes me good. If that's who I am."

He stayed silent, wondering where she was going with this.

"You wanted to know about Iraq," She said. "Do you? Still?"

He nodded. "If you want to tell me."

"I don't, not really, but I probably have to." She rested her head against his shoulder. "I got special permission to film with the troops in Iraq, the peace keeping stuff. I was – God, I was so excited. I was starting to make a name for myself, people were watching my documentaries, and being able to go and do that project, it was like my dream job. And then I met Cole, and that seemed like the icing on the cake. This handsome, charming man." She snorted slightly. "But he was recruiting me. Everything he did was designed to make me agree to work with him, for him…" She trailed off.

"We're trained to do that." He said quietly. "To turn assets. To press the right buttons."

She nodded against his shoulder. "I know that now. I didn't then. Even when he told me he was MI6, I didn't realise that meant it was all a lie. I thought it was just… coincidence, I suppose. The kind of coincidence that happens when you work in those parts of the world. Stupid, looking back on it."

"Naïve, maybe." He conceded, squeezing her shoulder gently.

"So he recruited me, and I had an Iraqi contact I was supposed to meet and pass information on to. But the first time I went to meet him, something went wrong." She paused. "He grabbed me, and held a knife to my throat. I fought him off, which he obviously wasn't expecting, but he managed to slash me - you've seen the scar - and the fight got messy. I'd got a couple of good hits in, so he was disorientated, and so was I, from the blood loss. We ended up on the floor, and I ended up with the knife, and I… I didn't think about where I was aiming, I just needed to get away." She paused again. "I killed him."

Casey's jaw was clenched tight. He had an irrational impulse to get in the car, drive to London, and beat Cole Barker to a bloody pulp. And then maybe throw him out a window. And then beat on him again.

Nic had fallen silent and he looked down at her. "It's okay."

She turned her head and looked up at him. "Is it?"

"Well, it's not… okay, but it's okay. I mean, you did what you had to do. I would have done the same."

She nodded. "I thought - I hoped - you might say that."

"It's true."

She was looking out the window again. "I've accepted it. I understand why and how it happened and I'm okay with it, as far as I can be." She paused. "You said you've killed a lot of people?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you feel guilty?"

He thought about it. "No. There are a few I don't feel so great about, but it's my job, and I signed up for it." He wondered if that was actually true, and decided it mostly was. "I'm not saying it doesn't affect me," He conceded. "But not like that."

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "Well, afterwards, I managed to get word to Cole and they came and cleaned it all up. I was taken to the military hospital for treatment, and then I was supposed to go back to normal. Keep doing the job - my real job, the filming - and get on with things. And somehow I did. But I was feeling shit, physically, and I assumed it was just the aftermath of the fight but then I collapsed one day, right in the middle of filming an interview, and the next thing I remember is waking up four days later back in the hospital. Not dead from blood poisoning, which was good, but definitely never having kids. And I know this might sound callous, but I was okay with that part; it wasn't like it had ever been in my plans. But at the same time I felt…" She shook her head slightly in frustration. "I suppose it was like an escalated version of how I felt today – I felt stupid, embarrassed, like a fucking idiot, to be honest. For trusting Cole, for thinking he gave a shit, for not realising I was pregnant, for not seeing the set up coming with the contact. And when I get embarrassed, I get angry. So I left the hospital against advice, jettisoned the filming, and flew back home, because all I wanted to do was get away from any trace of it all." She sighed. "But when I got back to London-"

Casey suddenly realised where this was going. He remembered what Mike had told him, and the picture of Nic with the smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"But when I got back to London, Yuri was in the hospice, so I went straight from one hell into another. There was no way I could tell him what had happened, so I stayed there with him, mainly curled up next to him on the bed, for six days. One of the nurses, she used to change my dressing and dole out my drugs while they were giving Yuri his, so that he wouldn't know. She was a saint."

Her voice was shaking a little now, and he shifted his body so he could put his other arm around her, holding her properly. She kept her eyes on the window.

"So then he died. I was there, which was good. Right next to him. Mike was there too, he had to lift me off the bed, because I couldn't get down myself. And afterwards I walked, I walked for hours, halfway across bloody London, and I decided that was it. From now on, I was going to look after myself, and I was going to be brilliant at my job, because I love it, and I was never going to let anyone get that close to me again."

She stopped and looked up at him. "You're not the only one who walked away from the people they care about. You're not the only one who kept everyone at arm's length."

He nodded. And then, because it was the only thing he could think to do, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Casey wasn't a man of many words, never had been. He'd talked and laughed more in the last couple of months than he had in years, and that was down to her. But right now, words weren't going to tell her what she needed to know. Well, maybe three of them would help.

"I love you." He said, and then kissed her again, wrapping her carefully in his arms, showing her with his lips and his body how he felt about her, about them, about this ridiculously perfect clusterfuck of a love affair.

He ran his hands slowly over the uninjured parts of her that he could reach. She caressed his face with her good hand, kissing him back with growing passion. He groaned and broke the kiss, holding his mouth just above hers as he spoke.

"Can we...?"

She nodded vigorously and pulled his head down to kiss him again.

To accommodate her cast and injured knee, he took her from behind, spooned up against her on their sides, his lips on her neck and his hands on her breast and hip as he slowly eased into her.

"I love being inside you," He groaned into her ear, feeling her clench around him. "It's my favourite place to be."

She gasped and he bit her earlobe gently.

"You're my favourite... everything..." She moaned softly, as his fingers found her sweet spot. She bucked back against him.

"Steady-" He cautioned, though all he wanted to do was let loose and pound into her, claiming her again. "Your arm..."

"Forget my arm, just fuck me, Casey, please!"

He growled, reaching round and securing her injured arm against her body with his left hand, leaving his right just where it was between her legs as he drove into her hard. She let out a throaty groan of satisfaction.

"Yes!"

He thrust hard and fast into her, burying himself hilt deep with every stroke, holding her tight, his mouth against her shoulder, tasting the sweat beading her skin as she pushed back against him.

He felt her start to come even before she gasped his name, and he roared with release as he shot deep inside her, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asked, kissing her softly as they lay together afterwards, wrapped up in each other under the covers.

She smiled and kissed him back. "Yeah."

He ran his fingers over the teeth marks in her shoulder. "I'm sorry about this." He kissed the hurt, soothing it with his tongue.

"It's okay, I think you'll have fingernail marks on your arm!"

He checked, and saw four perfect red crescents cut into his forearm where she'd held on with her left hand. "We're even then."

She nodded. "Best way to be."

He cradled her close and breathed deeply. "After today, I'm not sure I can ever let you out of my sight again." He cautioned.

"I'm not going anywhere." She replied.

COMING UP in Chapter 14:

"Hello Cole."