"Beca. Beca, stop. Let me look at you."

Jesse was trying to catch her as she stormed about the room, looking for clues. The room was sparse, with just the bed she was lying on just now, a chair and the table with gruesome implements neatly arranged on them. She just glanced at them quickly before moving towards the back of the room to inspect a couple of black bags.

"Beca."

Jesse was still beseeching her and he approached her again. She stopped and turned to look at him and he visibly flinched at the cold look she had in her eyes.

"Make yourself useful. Pat him down." She said mechanically, turning back to inspect the bags.

Jesse was about to reach out for her but seeing the cold shoulder she was giving him, he took two steps back and went back to Azrael's body. With gloved hands, he patted the body down and took out a wallet and a bunch of keys. He rapidly went through the contents, dismissing the credit cards and cash. His eyes were thoughtful when he saw a few IDs and what looked like a key card and he hurriedly shoved them in his pockets, before discarding the wallet.

He stood up and saw that Beca was standing over the bags. She had put on the hoodie and track bottoms she was wearing when she was kidnapped. They had been discarded to one side by Azrael when he brought her into that room. Beca pulled the hood over her head tight.

"Are you ready to go?" Jesse asked carefully.

Without a word, without a backward glance at the rapidly cooling body of her captor and still glowering angrily at Jesse, she stalked out of the door and headed towards the fire escape. Jesse just followed closely behind.

It was light outside by the time they reached home. She did not utter one word and when the car came to a stop, she just jumped out and slammed the car door shut, before going into the house.

"Beca, please. I need to look at you."

Jesse came up after her. They were now in the living room. She stopped and whirled around, bristling at him. He did not let that anger put him off. He stepped forward and took her wrists in his hands and peered into her angry, mutinous face.

"Are you ok? Did he hurt you?" He whispered softly, now slowly pulling her nearer. He opened his hands palm upwards so he could look at her wrists, red and sore from the ropes. He gently rubbed them, noting the skin was not broken.

Feeling his gentle touch, Beca clammed her eyes shut and breathed in slowly and deeply,. She was trying to check that anger threatening to spill over.

"I'm fine!" She finally hissed through gritted teeth.

"He was attacking you. Did he pump any drugs into you?"

"I said I'm fine, Jesse."

"Are you sure? How long were you out for?"

She could no longer keep that anger in check.

"I am fine. I was more than fine, ok?" Beca shouted, wrenching her wrists out of his hands. He was taken aback with her anger. "I was doing perfectly fine until you bumbled in and ruined everything!"

"Why are you angry at me?"

"I was this close. This close, Jesse! He was about to tell me who sent the hit."

"But he was attacking you! His hands was all over you. I cannot just stand..."

"We agree on this, remember? Ever since that hit was called on me, we agreed. I am out as bait. That was the plan. That was how we will get to him!"

Jesse was silent. It was true. That was the plan. It was a few weeks ago when Bumper had rang him in the middle of the night, cursing him to high heaven. He still had sleep in his eyes, not comprehending the very choice swear words Bumper was currently yelling at him.

"Who the hell is Beca, Jesse? Are you not telling me something?" Bumper had bellowed down the phone.

"What the hell, Bump?"

"Beca. What is it about her that you are not telling me?" Bumper had yelled again.

"Nothing."

"Yeah? You sure it's nothing?" Bumper sound unconvinced. "Perhaps you can tell me why the hell someone ordered a £5 million hit on her head?"

Of course Jesse had to wake Beca up.

He fobbed Bumper off who was not entirely convinced and he woke Beca up. And he was surprised when Beca was not even shocked by this news. She had just sighed and said she was expecting it. Jesse was even more surprised when she matter-of-factly suggested setting herself up as bait. She was convinced Azrael will pick the job and they could trap him.

That was why they installed the home security system. That was why he loathed leaving her alone. That was why she let him bought her those sapphire earrings which he modified with a tracking device.

He knew something was wrong when he could not locate her. Sitting at that departure lounge, he had broken out in cold sweat when her phone did not work. When he saw that flashing blue tracking dot moving, he knew what happened and immediately left. His mind was hardly on the road as he drove like a demon, following that dot.

He located where she was held captive. It was easy enough to hide himself and watched. He had to clamp down hard on his protective instinct seeing Beca lying helpless and comatose on the bed while that evil man stalked around her. Even worse when he held her limp like a rag doll in some grosteque dance round the room. He was on tenterhooks and it took all of his control to make him stay still. But the worse of all was seeing her hooked up to like that and Azrael forcing himself on her. That was the last straw.

He could not help it. He could not just stand there and NOT do anything when that unholy bastard manhandled Beca like that. But as usual, his timing sucked. And now she was angry and yelling at him.

"Bec.." Jesse started, trying to get a word edgewise in the middle of her tirade.

"I can"t believe this! I can't believe you, Jesse! Now we are back to square one and I am nowhere close to knowing who killed my dad."

"We'll find out, babe. We will."

"Don't babe me! All the trails are cold now," Beca yelled back.

She ran her hand impatiently through her hair. This was a freaking disaster. All that time and effort to trap Azrael. All for naught. All this time trying to track the killer. It was driving her mad. This was the closest she had ever been and of course, Jesse had to be a fucking hero and save her. Like she needed saving. Like she needed help.

Beca tried to calm herself down. Things go wrong all the time but oh my god, the thought of doing it all over again. She had to delibrately put herself out there yet again - all the changes in her routine, trying to make her vulnerable to an attack, dangling herself out there. It was a fine line. A very, very fine line to thread.

"It's OK. It's going to be OK," Beca sighed. "I just have to wait again like a fucking sitting duck for the next assassin to come after me. That is all."

"No, Beca. You are not setting yourself up as bait again."

Beca whirled round to stare at him. Jesse had a frosty look on his face - a hard, determined look that brook no argument. He did not want her in that situation again. Not if he had a say in this. Not if he could help it.

"Jesse..."

"No, Beca. I am not having it. You are not putting yourself in danger like that again."

Beca stared at him and then let out a humourless laugh.

"My whole life is one fucking danger after another," she said, her eyes hard. "You know what you sign up for."

"I do," Jesse replied, his eyes equally hard.

"Why the hell are you stopping me now?" Beca was beyond angry now. "Your timing fucking stinks, you know that? He was about to tell me the name, Jesse!"

"Becs, I just saw him touching you like that. And you were tied up. It looked like you were in danger..."

"No, I was not. I was in fucking control, OK? I had him where I wanted him."

"It didn't look like it!" Jesse yelled back.

"Do you think so little of me? I am not a rookie, Jesse! I am good at what I do."

"Yeah, sure. You are a kick-ass agent." Jesse's tone was bitter now.

"Then why the fuck did you rush in like that?"

"Because..." Jesse turned away now, his hands jammed in his pockets. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"What the fuck, Jesse? Because of what?"

"Because I can't stand seeing you in danger like that! I can't stand the thought of you being hurt. Or touched like that. Or even being in this job! And fuck me if I don't do something about it!"

Jesse had turned around to face her again, his eyes as hard as agates. A swelter of emotions ran down his face and he rubbed his face hard with both hands.

"I just can't stand it, Beca," he finally said brokenly. "And now I know how your dad felt all those years ago."

Beca was frozen on the spot. Those words he uttered just echoed round and round her head. This could not be happening. Why was he saying all those words? What was he trying to say? That this was all a mistake?

They stood staring at one another.

Beca felt that bile rising to her throat. That horrible sick feeling now welling up. She thought Jesse was strong enough for this. Was she wrong? Was she being too optimistic about this? About them?

She could not think any more. She was not prone to throwing up but this horrible, sick feeling in her stomach was at the back of her throat now. Beca ran to the toilet, quickly pushing the door open and made it just in time. She heaved the contents of her stomach; painful, racking heaves that drove her down to her knees.

"Becs? Baby, are you alright?"

Jesse was beside her, rubbing her back. She stiffened up and he quickly took his hand off her.

"I'm fine. It's the chloroform. It makes me sick." She answered, getting up and wiping her mouth. She flushed the toilet and moved to the sink to wash her hands. She slowly wiped her hands, aware that Jesse was now standing by the doorway, looking at her.

She raised her eyes to the mirror, looking at Jesse's reflection.

"So where does this leave us, Jesse?" Beca said slowly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He was looking at her quizzically now, trying to phantom what she was trying to say.

"The last time I heard someone said something like that was my dad," Beca said, her face stony. "And he left the very next day."

"Beca, I'm not saying... I'm not..." Jesse began. "I'm not your father, Beca."

But she was no longer listening to him. Beca was now rubbing her temples, clamming her eyes shut to stop these stupid, fucking, weak tears from flowing.

"I can't talk to you now, Jesse. Please leave."

"Beca, don't do this."

"I just can't talk to you now, Jesse."

She was gripping tightly to the sink and the words were hissed. Jesse took a long look at her and took a step back.

"Fine. It's always your rules, isn't it? What I feel doesn't matter." He said those words with so much bitterness that she flinched. "You know what? Fine. Let's just take a step back and think about this. Think about what you want, Beca. Because I definitely know what I want."

Jesse took one last look at her. She was still facing away from him, not turning around to look him in the eye. He just spun around on his heels and left the room. And when she heard the front door slammed shut, Beca sank to the floor, curled up into herself and let the tears fall.

What the fuck happened?

What the holy fuck just happened?

Jesse kept his eyes on the road, one hand gripping the steering wheel tightly. He was driving a little too fast, a little too dangerously. He had to stop. He was not entirely sure he could concentrate on the road with so many thoughts swirling in his head.

Why were they even fighting? Did she really think he was going to leave her? He loved her, for fuck's sake.

A loud horn jolted Jesse out of his thoughts. He immediately swerved out of danger's way. Fuck, he really had to stop somewhere. He could not drive like this. He needed to talk to somebody.

Beca was standing in the study, staring that the mess of papers and photographs strewn on the table. She was not looking for clues any more; she was just staring at the photographs. Photographs of her mom. Her mom and dad and her, smiling for eternity. Photographs of Christmas and birthdays past.

After her dad walked out, her mom's heart never really healed properly. And she remembered what her mom said to her before she died that day. Even in the last minutes of her life, in that highly dangerous situation, her mom felt she had to tell her.

Beca shut her eyes, trying hard to think. When she opened them, she reached for her phone and dialled Jesse's number. The line was busy. It went to voicemail.

"Hey, it's me. I'm sorry for being such a bitch. I know why you did it. I got mad and I shouldn't. You ask me what I want...I want you. I want us, Jesse. Please come home. We need to talk. I love you."

She finished her message for Jesse and ended the call. She was about to put the phone away when a message flashed up on her iPad. Beca quickly opened the message and ran her eyes over the words.

For a split second as the words sank in, she nearly cried again. She could not believe what was happening now. Jesse and her; they could not catch a break. Perhaps it was never meant to be.

Beca sighed.

Then the steel in her came back and she knew what she had to do.

"Hey Luke. It's me."

"What's wrong? Is Beca alright?"

Jesse leant back into his seat. He had stopped when it was safe to do so. He needed to talk to someone. He needed to talk to Luke.

"Yes, she's fine." Jesse replied wearily. "We had a tussle with Azrael last night."

He could hear Luke hissing into the phone. Jesse narrated the whole episode to Luke, who was quiet throughout, listening to him.

"Is she there? Can I talk to her?"

"No, she's at home. I'm out."

Luke was cursing softly now.

"Did you just leave her all alone?"

"She wants me to leave her alone!" Jesse was a little crossed now. "She thinks I'm just smothering her. When all I want to do is to protect her."

Luke was silent on the other line. Jesse huffed impatiently, trying to put his thoughts in order.

"How do you do it, Luke?"

"Do what?"

"How could you stand aside seeing her in danger all this time? I can't do it but I have to. Please tell me how to do it."

"You are a dick, you know that?" Luke replied. "There is no guarantee in life, Jesse. You know it. We are in a dangerous line of work. You just have to trust her."

"But if.."

"No buts! Enjoy it while it's good, Jesse and don't sweat it. If it is her time or yours, at least you two would have had a hell of a run."

Jesse sighed. He hated this.

"You are right, Luke. You're always right."

"And you are a dickhead. You don't deserve her."

"I know. I know."

"You are such a ... hang on..." Luke's voice faded out and when he came back, there was an urgent note to his voice. "I'm going to have to call you back."

Luke hurriedly ended the call, leaving Jesse frowning. He looked at his phone and saw a missed call from Beca and there was a message for him. He quickly retrieved the message, silently psyching himself for any of Beca's bombshells. But Jesse had to smile when he heard her sweet message. He played it again, closing his eyes, listening to her voice. God, he loved her so much. Luke was right. He should just go home, love her, hold her tight and hope for the best.

Jesse was about to start the car and head home when his phone rang again. He contemplated letting it ring - he really wanted to get home. It rang again and again.

"Bumper?"

"Jesse, where are you?"

"Out. Why?"

"Are you with Beca?"

Jesse frowned at how urgent Bumper sound.

"No. What's wrong?"

"Jesse, tell me the truth now! Who the hell is Beca?"

"Bump, we've been through this..."

"Quit jerking me around, man! This is fucking important!" Bumper was shouting down the phone now.

"I don't know what..."

"The price on her head is upped to £10 million. Now, are you going to tell me who she is?"

Jesse nearly dropped the phone. He finally found his voice and he could hardly get the words out, "I gotta go, Bumper... I gotta get to her."

"Jesse.."

"She's the Raven, Bumper! I gotta go now!"

Bumper was swearing hard; long, endless stream of the choicest swear words.

"That's explains it." Bumper finally said.

"What?"

"Her agency is cutting her off. She's a rogue agent. Don't you get it, Jesse? They are all going after her now!"

"For fuck's sake, stay still!"

Jesse's jaw clenched at the effort. Bumper's hand laid heavy on his shoulder. He wanted to yell. He wanted to scream her name and run into that smoking ruin of their house. He bit the inside of his cheek and closed his eyes, fighting down this rage, this pain in his chest. Bumper's fingers dug deeper into his shoulder. Painfully so. He concentrated on that pain instead and slowly he gained his control.

He had raced home. Bumper had met him a few streets away and they continued on foot. Jesse thought he saw flames and smoke from where his house was and when it was in sight, he nearly fell onto his knees seeing the flames engulfing the front of the house.

He wanted to run straight in but Bumper had dragged him away into hiding. Jesse was not having it and he tried to break free but Bumper just gestured to the three unmarked vans parked outside the house, to the score of armed men in black now combing the area. Jesse took it all in and nodded slowly.

Both Bumper and him stealthily circumvent the house. He silently pointed to a treehouse in one of the neighbour's garden and they climbed into the house. It gave them a good view. Jesse did not know how long they were there. It felt like hours. Bumper just silently watched his friend staring stonily at his now ruined house.

They waited until the unmarked vans left. And they waited when the neighbours rushed out alarmed. They still waited when the fire brigade came to put out he flames. Finally, when the fire brigade left and it all looked quiet, Bumper gave him a nudge and they moved towards the house.

The fire was contained at the front and that area was sealed off. They entered via the back, quietly picking their way through the debris. Jesse's eyes scanned the walls now pockmarked with bullets, the mess and the shrapnel on the floors. The living room and study were ransacked - all the papers and photographs burnt.

Jesse moved to the bedroom, gun still in hand. Their bedroom was similarly ransacked as well; clothes strewn on the floor, pillows ripped. Jesse felt a little sick. He was sweating now and he went to their ensuite, heading straight for the sink. He splashed some cold water onto his face and wiped it with a towel.

As he stared at his pale, haggard face in the mirror, he caught sight of the back of the toilet door. A blue dress was hanging there. It was not any old blue dress. And then he saw the sapphire earrings pinned to the dress.

"Jesse." Bumper was calling out to him.

"In here.'

Bumper came into the bedroom. Jesse looked remarkably calm as he emerged from the ensuite.

"I'm so sorr..."

"She's still alive, Bumper. She's escaped."

"Are you sure?"

Jesse nodded. "Positive. And I know where's she's heading."