The elevator to the sublevel opened and Devon walked out with two agents flanking him. 'Mr. Valdez. You continue to cause problems.' With a nod, the two agents moved and before Teresa could do anything James was in handcuffs. Teresa and her people were un-armed- Devon had made sure of that. So there was no way for her to force them to stand down. 'However, due to the circumstances, I am willing to reinstate the agreement we had in place.'

Teresa could feel her palms dampening with sweat. Her emotions were slowly rising, edging out the control she needed. Still she kept her voice and face steady. 'There are photographs and digital copies of everything in that basement. If you take James, every government and media agency I can contact will have a copy.' And it was true. She had made sure that Ivan made copies of the hard drives and kept some of the technology. But she wasn't going to give it to anyone- it was insurance for her people's release.

Devon watched her closely and for a moment Teresa thought that he would agree.

'It's unfortunate that you feel that way. However, this is not up for negotiation. Mr. Valdez will be returning with me- you do what you feel is necessary.'

Then he was walking away, the two agents following with James being held between them.

Teresa watched as the patients were woken up slowly, agency doctors beside them. It was so strange. Watching them come to themselves, realize what happened to them and where they are. Each person seemed to react differently. But somehow it was all the same. Someone bumped into her, pulling Teresa from her thoughts. She turned towards the elevator. This place… The weight of it threatened to pull her under.

'Teresita.' Pote was at the door to the elevator when she reached the main floor of the bunker. He had tried to convince her not to go back after the CIA arrived. He had tried to convince her of a lot of things in the last few days. 'When are we going back to Brazil? Ivan checked the orders and we're behind. People will start talking.'

She shook her head. It was the same question he had been asking since the day after Ebony. 'I'm not leaving without James. Call Charger and have him send out the product.' Pote opened his mouth to say something, but Teresa didn't give him the chance. 'I'll call our suppliers and let them know that he'll be the face they see until this is over.'

The look of doubt that came to Pote's face brought a flare of anger to Teresa. All he had done for months was question her. And since James came back he had questioned her even more. She knew he was loyal- she knew it came from a place of love- but Teresa knew what she was doing and thinking and saying. Her emotions weren't blinding her- not like they had at the beginning.

'Claro, Teresa.'

She walked to the bunker exit. They didn't have to understand- not Pote or Javier or anyone else.

She knew what she was doing.

Javier infiltrated the Black Site where Devon was holding James. It wasn't easy and there were too many times when a guard got a little too close to killing him. But he found the cell they were keeping James in- exactly where Teresa said he would be. Teresa had made sure to keep Devon's security in place with as little tampering as possible. So Javier used sedatives and non-lethal combat to put down the guards, while Ivan ran the camera and heat sensor feeds on a loop.

James didn't speak when the door to his cell opened. He didn't say anything when Javier walked in and untied him. He didn't say anything as they walked the halls and out the door. Teresa knew all of this because it was the first thing Javier mentioned after he got back. She couldn't tell if it was concern or distrust that made Javier mention James' continued silence. And it couldn't matter right then, anyway. There was still work to do.

She walked into the room where Ivan was set up. They had already released control of Devon's security. His men were waking up from what she could see on Ivan's screen. Now all that was left was to wait. Guards congregated in one room- securing Devon, like Teresa knew they would. She watched as they poured over their surveillance equipment looking for the intruders, trying to get a hold of the situation.

'Now.'

Ivan pressed a button.

The cameras went black.

Teresa could feel the vibrations from the explosion beneath her feet.

There were no survivors.

Her team went through the rubble to make sure of it.

Teresa shipped Devon's body back to America herself.

It was a week before James said a word to anyone. He didn't sleep for another three. It was like his mind had finally realized how much he had been through- how much had changed. She could see him struggling to fit all of the new pieces of himself into one complete person. And it was draining him. But no matter what time it was Teresa could always find him awake, sitting in silence, staring at something she couldn't see. Sometimes he left the house- stayed gone until morning. The first time she'd had to stop Javier from following him. Before, it wouldn't have mattered. James was never good with being idle and sleep was rarely his friend. Before, Javier and Pote had no reason to doubt his loyalty.

But it wasn't before- it was after.

Still, Teresa didn't stop smiling after the first night he actually slept. She had woken up in the middle of the night-a nightmare that she would never admit to having. She had gone to get some juice from the kitchen and noticed James' door was closed. It was never closed because he was never in it. So she had quietly opened it and peeked inside.

The lamp by his bed was on and a book was still open in his hand, resting on the blanket by his leg. His head was titled at an odd angle on the pillow and Teresa wanted to go to him- make him more comfortable. But she wouldn't risk waking him up. So instead she just watched him sleep. She took in the measured breaths and the way his curls were going in every direction. He was still wearing his clothes from earlier in the day, so he hadn't planned on falling asleep. But that just made her feel better. It meant that maybe his mind was finally healing a little bit- at least enough for him to rest.

She closed the door and left him in peace. She forgot the juice and went back to her own bed. And in the morning when he came out of his room she couldn't quite bite back her smile. He looked better. He ate more that morning. She thought she saw him roll his eyes at something Ivan said. It was such a good thing to see.

So, of course something would ruin it.

"Teresita, what are you gonna do about him?"

She didn't need to look to know that Pote was talking about James. It was the same question he asked every day. She gave him the same answer every day. Silence. Because she didn't know yet. And she didn't think James knew yet, either. They had talked since they got back to Brazil, but it had been little things: her day, the weather, what book he was reading. Things to ease the transition from lovers to enemies to whatever they were now. Whoever he was now. She still cared about him. She still wanted to build something good with him. And she knew he felt the same way. But wanting had never been the problem. He had to feel comfortable in his own skin again. He had to be able to trust his mind and instincts. No, it wasn't wanting- it was finding a way to make it work.

Pote moved to leave when Teresa stopped him, her hand grasping his arm gently. Maybe silence wasn't the answer this time. "I want him to stay. But I'm not sure he wants that." That wasn't true. She knew he wanted to stay, she just understood that right now he probably shouldn't. She knew he was staying for her, and she was too selfish right now to let him leave. But she couldn't be selfish with him. "I'll talk to him. For real." Pote nodded and her hand fell back to her lap as he walked away.

Glancing up, Teresa saw James standing on the balcony of his room. His eyes were on her, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking from where she was. Standing she walked to the house and inside. They needed to have this conversation now. So she took a deep breath and walked up the stairs to James' room. The door was closed, but it opened right as she stopped in front of it. James stepped back to let her in, closing the door behind her.

"We've had this conversation before. But this time things are different." She turned to face him, taking in the way he leaned casually against the door, arms folded across his chest. "If you need to leave, James, I understand. I won't hold you here." It was taking so much more than she thought it would to keep her voice calm and even. To keep her words from tripping over themselves.

His eyes dropped to the floor and Teresa could see him working through it- finding a solution that worked. With a slow nod, James looked at her again. He pushed off of the door and strode across the room to stand in front of her. It had been a while since he had been that close on purpose. His hand came up and settled on the back of her neck pulling her into a hug. Teresa tried to ignore how similar it was to the vision she had in Bolivia. She tried to ignore how it somehow felt like their goodbye all those months ago in Phoenix. Her arms wrapped around him and held on tight- because she knew what this meant. She knew what it meant and she wasn't ready.

Tears stung her eyes as she felt the press of his lips against her hair. And her hands held him that much tighter when she felt how uneven his breathing was. She turned her face into the bend of his neck and left the whisper of a kiss there. "Call me when you get settled, alright?" She nodded not sure she could keep the tears out of her voice this time. His hold on her tightened and he let out a heavy sigh. "We're still in this together, Teresa."

She pulled back. It was like reliving the past. He had the same look in his eyes as Phoenix and it hurt to see. His hands were just as gentle, just as safe as they always were. But this time she could see a spark of something else. Something that made this easier. It wasn't goodbye. It wasn't the end. So she let her hands slide up to rest along his jawline. She lifted herself up so that she was that much closer to him. There were tears in her eyes but she smiled when his lips met hers.

It started soft, slow, a reminder- a relearning. She had missed this. And as impossible as it seemed, she had forgotten. His taste, the feel if his lips on hers, it had faded in his absence like an old photo loses its color. But not it was back, vibrant and bold and she couldn't believe she had forgotten this. It made her want more. It made that hot swirl of sensation pool low in her stomach. So she deepened the kiss. Because if this was all she would have for a while, she wanted to feel it. And he matched her, just like he always had. He pulled her closer even though there was no room. Her mouth open beneath his, wanting-needing- more.

And suddenly it was too much, because she could feel just how much he wanted this and just how much he hated leaving. And she knew he could feel just how scared she was to let him go and just how much she wanted this. She tasted salt and knew it was because she was crying. And she hated herself for it because it made him pull back. The hand that had somehow wound its way into her hair was now pressed to her cheek, thumb brushing her tears away. She met James' eyes and saw every emotion she was feeling staring back at her. Her hands fell from his jaw to his shoulders, not ready to lose contact yet.

James pressed the most tender kiss to her forehead. Then he took one step back. Her hands fell to her sides. She took one more moment to just look at him, like this: eyes dark and heated, breath a little too fast, traces of a smile on his lips. Then she walked past him and out the door. She went to her car and left before she had thought about it. And she just drove. She drove until she had no choice but to go back.

And when she got there he was gone.

He kept in touch.

He called once a month. He texted once a week. Nothing huge, just enough to know he was alive and safe. Sometimes he sent her business contacts or tips for how to handle a problem if she asked. But mostly he kept his distance. And it was good for him. It had been good for him.

But now things were different. He was in control of himself. He trusted his decisions. He had reconciled the parts of him that had been created by Ebony and the Director. He accepted the person he had to become during his time with the CIA. And he had let go of the fear. It had taken six months but he could sleep without nightmares again.

So he was in New Orleans.

Standing in the door to Teresa's favorite café. She had described it to him in detail over the phone one night. And it was exactly the way he thought it would be. He walked in and sat in the third booth to the left. He ordered a black coffee. He heard her voice as she placed her order, but the crowd drowned out her words. It didn't matter though. He knew she got a white chocolate mocha, iced, with whipped cream and cinnamon.

He took a sip of his coffee and looked out the window as she made her way to her booth. His lips quirked up into a small smile at the way she froze when she saw him in her seat. Turning away from the window he took in the woman before him. Her hair was up in a ponytail and her white dress made her look powerful and kind at the same time. Her eyes were lighter, less burdened it seemed.

"You look good."

She placed her cup on the table and slid into the seat across from him. He smiled a little more when he heard her voice. "So do you." She watched him for a long moment, and James knew she was finding the changes in him the way she was finding hers. "You could have told me you were coming." He took another sip of his coffee. She rolled her eyes. It was new- it was nice.

Then he asked about business and things were like they always had been. They bounced ideas off of each other. He told her the info he had on the major and minor players. She shared her strategy for staying on top. They finished their drinks and left the café. He noticed the way her hand slipped into his as they walked. And his mind catalogued how she led them to all of the places she had told him about on their way to her place.

He didn't mind.

She led him to her bedroom. The sun was just starting to set and the room was washed in a golden-red light. Her skin seemed to radiate the suns warmth as she stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows. He wanted to go to her- he wanted to relearn the way her skin felt and the sounds she made when she was satisfied. He wanted to have that passion and connection with this woman again. But he stayed still. He took her. Because things had changed and he would do as little or as much as she wanted.

"The house in Phoenix got me hooked on balconies." Her hands drifted up to her neck, unclasping the necklace she wore and placing it on the table next to her. "The view as the sunset, feeling just a little above it all- I liked it." Her fingers slowly released the buttons of her dress from their moorings. James' thumb ran along his fingers before he clenched his fist to keep from going to her. "Then when I left it reminded me of you." The dress pooled around her ankles and she stepped out of it.

Black lace contrasted with the warm tone of her skin and the golden light of the sun. It had been too long since he had seen her like this. He took in deep breaths to maintain his control. He knew what she wanted- what they both wanted. But now the tension was part of the foreplay- letting it build until one of them broke. Teresa strode across the room- sensual and confident. He let his eyes caress her body, from her toes to the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, the valley between her breasts, until he reached her eyes.

The tension broke, then.

His mouth was on hers, her tongue danced with his. She tasted like coffee. She tasted like Teresa. Her hands were in his hair, and he had lifted her off the floor. He turned so that her back was pressed to the wall beside the door as she pulled him closer with her legs. She tore her mouth from his and immediately his lips found their way to her neck. His hand came up to cup the back of her head, just as she let it fall back to give him better access. "James…" her voice was breathy and high, more a sigh than anything.

He lifted her higher and pressed into her a little more to keep her braced against the door. His hands dropped to her panties and it he had been thinking even a little more clearly, he wouldn't have torn them. But he wasn't and she didn't seem to mind. Then his fingers were tracing her folds, and he could feel exactly how much she wanted this. His head dropped to rest on her shoulder as he tried to find something bordering control.

"James, please."

He pulled her into him and turned them towards the bed. Her hands were fumbling with his belt and the button of his jeans. He dropped her unto the bed but she didn't let him go, so he fell with her, catching himself just before he landed on her. But Teresa was already pulling down his zipper and tugging his jeans down. He kissed down her torso only breaking long enough for her to pull his shirt over his head.

His fingers went back to her center, tracing her entrance with his index finger while his thumb worked circles around her clit. He nearly choked on nothing when her hand wrapped around him. "Teresa…shit…" Her free hands grabbed unto his hair and pulled him back to her lips. She worked him rough, but slow. Each stroke seemed to last forever, but her grip was so tight it was almost painful. It felt so good- he couldn't even kiss her properly. Not that she was doing much better.

She had to stop. He had to stop her. The hand that had been at her hip took hold of her hand, pinning it to the bed. His fingers faltered in their rhythm when she whimpered at not being able to touch him. Then he pushed two fingers inside her, and listened as her whimper turned into a whine. His thumb kept up its steady circles and his fingers thrust into her deep and fast.

He wanted her to come. He needed her to come. On his hand with his mouth leaving marks along the undersides of her breasts. While her hands were fisting his curls and her voice was so wrecked it was perfect. He needed to feel her fall apart beneath him. He needed to give her that. And when his teeth scraped across her nipple- he did. She came with a gasp, her hands so tight in his hair his eyes stung. His head shot up so he could see it- see her.

He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock in one fluid motion. She threw her head back against the pillows and he could see the veins in her neck standing out. He could feel her heart pounding. She was clenching around him, hands pulling him closer even as her hips tried to pull away. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her nails dragged along his back, but he didn't care. He kept moving- in, out, in, out until she was gasping his name and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

Her mouth was on his neck, her hands were pressed low on his back pressing him closer, forcing him deeper. One hand was wrapped in her hair and the other was wound around her back keeping her right there where he could reach the farthest parts inside of her. He felt the tension in her body- he knew she was close and it just pushed him to get her there. Then her back was bowing off the bed, her nails digging into his skin and he only had a second of rational thought before he was pulling out and spilling onto the blanket between her thighs.

His head dropped to rest on her stomach and her hands turned gentle, tracing along the line of his spine. Her breathing was harsh, but so was his. Her thighs were shaking, and his blood was ringing in his ears. Finally he forced himself to move, forced himself to slide her to the other side of the bed. He made himself get up and go to the bathroom.

When he came back, wet cloth in his hand, his breathing stopped. Teresa was laid out on the bed, one leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee falling just enough to give her some modesty. Her hair was a riot of curls fanning across her pillow, one arm thrown over her head, the other holding a pillow to her chest.

He made his way back to her, gently cleaning between her thighs with the damp cloth. Then he pulled the blanket from the bed and grabbed the sheet. He crawled in next to her and she immediately pressed against him, her head on his shoulder, his arms around her. He pulled the sheet over them and turned the light out.

For the first time in far too long, James was happy.

He woke up to brown curls.

Teresa was pressed against him. Their legs were tangled in the in the sheets, and her arm was draped across his abdomen. His hand came down to rest along the smooth curve of her waist, fingers brushing to bare skin of her hip. "Hi." He tilted his head to see her better. Her eyes were still closed, but there was a smile on her face that James could get used to.

"Hey."

He watched as she stretched before opening her eyes and sliding to the other side of the bed. The muscles of her back shifted as she picked up his t-shirt from the floor. His fingers twitched, but his hand stayed where it was. He hadn't planned for last night to happen. He was prepared to go slow, ease back into whatever they were to each other. But Teresa… She always had a way of sending his plans in a different direction.

She pulled his shirt on before tossing him his clothes. He sat up and pulled them on, ignoring her smirk at his lack of a shirt. It looked better on her anyway. He watched her head to the bathroom, smiling at the way she tiptoed on the cold tile. He waited until the water had gone off and she had opened the door again to ask, "So am I staying?" He knew the answer that he wanted. But he needed to hear it from her anyway. She tossed him a new toothbrush as she walked to her dresser.

Her eyes locked with his in the mirror. "Of course."

He smiled. "Good."