"What are you doing, Kim?" Tom Cronin's tone was mild and his face was serious. They were in a cab, the children dozing, on their way back to their hotel.

"What do you mean?" she asked. Not this. Not now.

"You four look suspiciously like a family to me." Concern colored his features.

Kim was silent.

"Kim. he is a black ops agent who has been suffering from severe psychological problems for several years. With your background you should know better than to get involved with someone like that."

Kim's mouth was set and her eyes were on fire. Her voice was quiet, to keep from waking the children, but it could not have been more forceful had she been screaming. "Severe psychological problems? You have a diagnosis? Let's see the file. The REAL file; the complete file. Let's see some documentation of where volunteering to serve his country in clandestine ops got that Marine!" She knew there had to be more than even Landy had. CIA always documented everything, down to the bathroom breaks. Obsessed with their transcripts, their photographs, their audio tapes, their videotapes…

Cronin leaned back, unable to tear his eyes away from her outraged face. He had worked with Kim nearly continuously over two years, and would call her emotional. There had been a few times when they were tracking Bourne in Berlin that he had thought she would pop right out of her skin. But he had never seen anything close to this level of ferocity before.

Goddamned Marines. A Navy man himself, he'd had plenty of experience with them. Clannish. Kim's relationship with Bourne was ample evidence of that, if nothing else. "Kim, you know that we can't—"

"Right. I do know." They were pulling up to the hotel. Kim opened the door, gathered up the girls and made her way through the lobby to the elevator bank, staggering under the load of slumbering humanity in her arms. Once in the compartment, she fumed, muttering. As furious with David—and herself, for feeling like a doormat—as she was with Cronin.

She wrangled the key card into the door, tripped over the bag of clean laundry left by the concierge just inside, and nearly fell, cursing loudly before she caught herself. The children woke, startled at first, then ready to play. They jumped up on the bed and started bouncing. Kim groaned inwardly, smiled outwardly, and got ready to perform for the rest of the afternoon.

It was hours later, past bedtime, when David returned. He let himself into his room, stopping just inside the door. He could see Kim stretched out next to the little ones in the adjoining room, still humming the lullaby that had sent the children to sleep.

Schlaf, mm mmm mmm.
Der Vater mmm mmmm.

She looked over at him, a slight smile on her lips, the satisfaction of getting the children to sleep erasing some of the confusion of the day, of their situation. "That one truly never fails," she called to him, softly.

He nodded, took a breath. "I know. Marie used to sing that all the time… Sang it to Drächen the last time she saw her." He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the traction of his many losses. This time there was a balancing gratitude. That he and Drächen had Kim and Indali.

Kim sat up. "I know other lullabies, if you prefer not to hear that one," she said.

He shook his head. "The consistency is good for Drächen, right?" They had Kim to thank for that knowledge. He had a small urn in his hands, which he put in his pack. "I sent some of the ashes to Martin," he said, over his shoulder.

"I'm sure he'll appreciate that." Kim came to the doorway. He was checking the perimeter, sweeping with the electronics sensor. No telling who had been in here while they were gone.

Satisfied that their security had not been ruptured, David's final mission for the day was concluded. He looked more closely at Kim, noticed dark circles under her green-brown eyes, a fragility to her face. "This is a lot for you to go through, for us," he noted. He wanted to take the three steps across the room and fold her into his arms, but the look in her eyes, her shielded body language, made him pause.

She nodded again. You don't know how much. Too tired, too uncertain to tell him.

David removed his jacket and tie, throwing them on a chair. Untucked and unbuttoned his dress shirt, threw it on top of the jacket. Sat on the bed to take off his shoes and socks, began to knead his toes in the carpet. "Crappy shoes," he remarked.

"Hateful clothes," she agreed. She had ditched the terrible shoes and pantyhose before joining Indali and Drächen in jumping on the bed that afternoon, had gotten out of the black dress and into shorts and a t-shirt as soon as she could.

She saw the chain around his neck, the medals resting against the white of his t-shirt. Thought that maybe she would bring this day to a close. There was plenty of room in with the girls.

He saw her eyes linger on the chain, and his hand went to the medals, touching them briefly. "They're a reminder," he said.

She nodded, once. "Of Marie."

"Of who I need to be now. What I have to lean on," he replied, looking at her face. She doesn't know I'm talking about her, he realized. The merciful warrior. Marie's benediction? He guessed he needed that, to feel okay about choosing to live over just staying alive. To feel okay about loving Kim. He noted a minuscule shift in her expression. Still, she was drifting toward the door to the other room. He wanted her to stay.

"Kim."

She stopped, looked at him, all her defenses surfacing. His face was a contrast to how she felt: as accessible as she had ever seen it, his brow creased slightly above wide, earnest eyes.He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees. "Thank you for coming with us, for bringing Indali. I don't know how we would get through this without you."

She nodded, gave a little shrug. Her face, usually so free, was still guarded. Because of me, David thought.

David took a breath, eyes on hers. "I want you to know that what you said before, about living—I want to try. "

Kim felt her fear begin to recede. She searched his eyes, finding them clear, peaceful; alive. Her sore heart unclenched, and her feelings of tenderness for David flooded out to crowd her disquiet.

David wished he could erase every bit of the doubt from Kim's face, from her mind. Maybe, in time. "I wasn't ready before, when I left India." His eyes on hers, steady, as she shrank slightly, remembering. "I'm sorry for how that's hurt you. I am now. Ready."

He crossed the room, then, and took her in his arms, pulled her to sit on the bed. It felt so good to hold her cradled against his chest, her face nestled against his neck. She sighed a quick sigh, and he asked, "Are you scared?"

She nodded, and he told her, "Our fear will point us to our courage." His arms securely around her, his skin warming her face, he eased her back onto the pillows with him.

David kissed her closed eyes, breathed, "Beautiful Kim, look at me." He waited until she did, and then kissed her mouth, telling her, "I want to see you..."

With Kim in his arms and the children nearby, David Webb had everything he could imagine needing. The next day would bring more planning, more decisions, undoubtedly more travel. For this one night, it was enough just to be.

Author's Note: That's it for this book, folks. Thank you so much for reading to the end. I get a thrill from every hit, and triple that for every review. I hope you've found something of value in this story, and been entertained. Drop me a line or post a review to let me know your thoughts.

If you want to know more about David's past, and his life as he tries to assume normalcy, put me on author alert; the next book will be posted as a separate story, under The Bourne Progeniture, Book 3... Thanks again for reading.