Caroline

I bit my lip, but then I ran up, using the tree as leverage so that I could jump up and grab the window sill. Using all the strength in the upper half of my body, I hauled myself up through the open window, tumbling loudly into the room. Yeah, that's graceful.

Sighing softly, I pulled the window shut behind me and turned my attention to the bed. Ains was asleep in it, his long eyelashes dark against his cheekbones and his expression peaceful, his hand resting on his stomach through the thick blanket. Before I could talk myself into opening the window and climbing out, I set my gun on his bedside table and draped my jacket over the back of his desk chair. Then I yanked my shirt over my head and shimmied out of my jeans, sliding underneath the covers with him.

Ains turned over in his sleep, waking up when his arm made contact with mine, alerting him to the fact that he was no longer alone in the bed. He always had been a light sleeper.

Ains' dark brown eyes opened into mine and he smiled, his mouth curving deliciously. "Hey."

"Hi," I said, smiling as he leaned across to kiss me, his hand finding the back of my neck. The kiss was quick and softly and he hummed softly, keeping his eyes closed as he rested his forehead against mine. "I've missed you."

I smiled as his hand traced the shape of my spine. "I know I said I was going to give you space to figure things out but – " I broke off as his hand slid to my stomach and his brows pulled together. "What?"

"You're naked."

"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?" I asked, taking his hand and guiding it to my shoulder. "Almost naked."

He smiled, but it faded when he noticed the gun behind my head. "When did that – " he turned to me and with a shaking hand, he pushed my hair back from my face so that he could see the cut above my eyebrow. "Oh God. What did you do, Caroline?"

"I didn't kill anyone, if that's what you're asking."

He gave me an incredulous look. "So what did you do?"

I sighed, rolling onto my back. I watched him as he sat up, watching the muscles in his arms work. I watched the blankets fall to his waist and I turned my head, staring across the room I wasn't looking at him, so I wouldn't become distracted by his lack of a shirt. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me and taking me in as I lay with the covers pulled up to my chest, studying the photos he kept taped to the wall behind his desk.

"Care."

I took a deep breath. "I went down into HQ and Vanessa was there, typing at the computers like she was on some kind of suicide mission."

I saw him lean his head back against the wall. "And she was."

"God, yes, she was." I said. "She got it in her head that not all of Jase's family were dead."

"But they are – "

"But they're not." I interrupted, turning my head to look up at him. "They weren't, and they're not. Jazzie's still alive. His kid sister was alive, and she was at KORPS. She was there while we were. We could have gotten her out – "

"We didn't know."

"No, yeah, I know, but we could have, if we had. And Vanessa wouldn't get it out of her head that we had to save Jazz and I knew. I knew it was stupid and we shouldn't go and someone – most likely one of us – was probably going to die, but I couldn't just let her go and get herself killed. I couldn't do it."

He reached out and I closed my eyes briefly as his fingers brushed my cheek. "So the two of you went and stormed KORPS?"

"Not just us," I said, opening my eyes and looking up at him. "We took Dan with us."

"Because your brother is so invincible." He snapped sarcastically. At my hard look, he sighed and looked away. "Please tell me you at least found Jase's sister."

I nodded, looking away so that he wouldn't see my tears as I remembered how thin Jazzie was, how small and fragile she looked and I brushed at my cheeks with my hand. "It was horrible. We found her and she was so thin and she was so excited to see me and Dan and she laughed at Vanessa's accent but . . ." I swallowed thickly, rolling onto my stomach and staring down at the pillows. "I remember how she used to be. She was like Jase, just . . . so full of life that it seemed impossible for someone that small to be so . . ." I trailed off, shaking my head and pressing my lips together. "And they broke her. They beat her, Ains. I know they gave you your memories to make you trust Mastermind but, he's not that man anymore. He hasn't been for a long time."

"I know that," he murmured, and I turned to look at him just as he leaned over, pressing his mouth against the skin just underneath my ear. I stared at him as he drew back, a smile playing on his mouth. "What?"

"You're not upset," I said.

He reached out with one hand, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I don't see the point, Care. You got her out, no one died and no one got hurt. I don't see the point in getting upset with you. You did something good and you're not hurt."

"I shot people." I said quietly, looking down. "What if they were like my dad? What if they were only there to earn money for their families?"

"Then that's not your problem to worry about," Ains breathed. "And besides, your dad's a total d-head that I'd punch right in the mouth if he wasn't your dad."

I smiled and sat up, reaching up to touch his cheek. He smiled, covering my hand with his, making a soft murmuring sound.

"I've missed you," I murmured, looking up at him. And I had, much more than I'd realised. I felt like I'd been starved for air over the past couple of weeks and now I could breathe again, as his arms wrapped around me to pull me into his lap.

"I know the feeling," Ains murmured and then he was kissing me. I let my hands travel up his bare arms, following the curve and swell of his muscles until I could slide my hands into his hair, holding him as close to me as I could get him. His hands found my hips and squeezed, his mouth leaving mine and travelling down the side of my neck. I gasped and fisted my hands around his hair, arching my back into him. His mouth found mine again and he crushed his lips against mine, pulling me against him and rolling, using his other hand to support his body weight so that he was hovering over me. He looked down at me tenderly, the hand on my waist sliding up my side to touch my cheek as I smiled up at him. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips, but he was gone before I could kiss back, pressing a trail of kisses across my cheek and jaw until he came to my neck. His touched burned as he made a trail of kisses down the side of my throat until he came to the base of my throat. The kiss he placed there was soft and slow and burned with passion, and I gasped softly, clutching at his back. He grunted softly against my throat as I dug my nails in, leaving faint little half-moon-crescent-shaped indents in his skin, but then I loosened my hold just a little, running my hands down his back, tracing the shape of his spine. His skin was smooth and healed, but as my fingertips brushed the area where his memories had been pumped into him, filling the holes in his own memories, he groaned quietly against my throat, his mouth crushing against mine. After that, everything dissolved into nothing but the way his body fit with mine, like we were both made to be like this, and his kisses and what each one said. Long kisses told me he loved me. Slow kisses told me he'd missed me. Passionate kisses told me that he wasn't going to let anything happen to me.

When we were done, I was lying beside him with my head on his chest, listening to his heart, and my hand resting on his stomach and his arm was wrapped around me, his fingers brushing back and forth across the top of my arm. His cheek was resting against the top of my head as he asked quietly, "Care?"

"Mmmm?"

"Before MI9, what did you want to do?"

I felt my cheeks flush a little and I brushed my hair behind my ear. "Music. I wanted . . . that was what I wanted to do."

I could feel him smiling into my hair. "What, just piano or – "

"No, not just piano. I wanted – " I broke off, shaking my head. "Forget it. It's stupid."

"You seem to think a lot of things are stupid." He murmured into my hair. "Tell me, Care."

"When I first met Jase, he got this idea of being a singer-songwriter into my head and even after we broke up, it was something I couldn't bring myself to let go of. For as long as I can remember, I've lived and breathed music. It's been so weird, not having the energy or motivation to do it and now, not even having a piano . . . sometimes I want to play so much that it's like an ache in my fingers." I flushed, looking down. "It's – "

"Can you sing for me?" He asked softly.

I twisted my head so I could see his face, giving him an incredulous look. "Really?"

He was smiling. "Unless you're scared."

I shook my head and took a deep breath, looking down at Natalie Mitchell's ring, which glittered against his skin. I picked it up and played with it as I, nervously, sang the first verse and the chorus of 'Runaway' by Ed Sheeran. Even to me, it sounded bad – I was so nervous that my pitch kept going up and down and I broke off on the last word suddenly, dropping my head onto his chest. I could feel him laughing quietly and I felt anger bubbling up inside me as I thought he was laughing at my singing until he kissed the top of my head and murmured, "Beautiful."

I was being a nervous idiot. That's why he was laughing.

I watched him as he reached out, taking my hand, his hand watching our fingers as they slid across each other. "Amazing."

I pushed my hair away from my face and looked up at him. "What?"

"Your hands," he murmured. "They're amazing. You fight, caress and make music with them. They're incredible."

I flushed reached up and placed my hand on his cheek, studying the faint contrast between our skin tones. "Can I ask you something?"

He watched me as I turned over as that I was lying beside him on my stomach. "What is it, Care?"

"Before me, was there ever – "

"Anyone else?" He asked, all amusement and joking gone from his expression. I nodded slowly and looked down when he didn't say anything for a long time. "You know what? Don't worry about it. It's fine."

He reached out and grabbed my chin, turning my head so that I was looking at him. "It's fine, Care. I've just never talked about it with anyone."

"What happened?" I asked quietly, reaching up to fiddle with his ring again.

"She died."

Surprised, I dropped the ring and looked up at him. "Are you serious?"

He nodded, his eyes far away as he brushed my hair back from my face. I sighed quietly, leaning across to kiss his shoulder. "Can you tell me about her?"

He looked surprised. "You want to know about an ex-girlfriend?"

"You wanted to know about Jase."

"Fair enough. Her name was Meghan. I met her when I was first recruited. She was a lot like you, actually, just a lot less headstrong. She was also a lot more selfish."

"Pretty?" I asked.

"Very," He murmured. Then he smiled. "Not as pretty as you, though."

I was smiling as I poked him in the side playfully. "Nice save, Mitchell." My smile faded and I bit my lip. "How did she – "

"I told her who I was." He said. "And she pretty much had the same reaction to you, except more extreme."

I looked up at him, studying his expression. I couldn't gauge what he was thinking, what the next part in the story was. Running my fingertips back and forth across his chest, I ducked my head and murmured, "When you say extreme – "

"I mean she decided, for one reason or another, to storm KORPS all on her own. And they killed her. We were never together, but I grieved her like we had been."

"Oh, Ains," I murmured, and I dropped my head onto his chest, not knowing what I was supposed to say. Some other girl might have felt relief that her boyfriend's only ex-girlfriend was dead, but I didn't. I only felt an odd sense of compassion and understanding – understanding what had happened to Meghan and how it had affected him explained a lot about the odd way his mood had swung back and forth when I had told him about what I'd done with Vanessa and Dan. It also explained why he'd been so reluctant to tell me about James, explained the pained look in his eyes when he did.

"You know what the worst part of it was?" He asked finally.

"What?" I asked, lifting my head and looking up at him.

"Her father hated me for it. Hated all of MI High for it, decided that teenagers made crappy spies. Made it his life's mission to get the whole operation shut down."

"Stark . . ." I murmured, my eyes flying wide as I stared up at him. "Stark had a daughter?"

He nodded, playing with my hair. "And I killed her."

"No, you didn't," I said, taking his face in my hands. "You didn't. Meghan made her choice. And I made mine."

I reached up to kiss him, and his mouth answered slowly, one hand coming up to my cheek.

"There is one thing I have to ask, though," I started.

"I wasn't in love with her." Ains said before I could ask, his hand found its way to rest over my heart. "Not like this."

I grinned, laughing as he pulled me up to him, his mouth finding mine and kissing me eagerly.