"She seems charming."

Berlin almost dropped his rifle as Paris stepped seemingly out of nowhere.

"Were you here the whole time?" Berlin asked incredulously. How she missed springing surprises on him.

"Well, I wanted to sneak out quietly, but then it got interesting. And I must say your techniques were a little stale. And harsh."

"Ariadna thinks otherwise."

"Of course, she would fake it with you. You're the one with the gun."

"I can tell when someone's faking it."

"Oh honey, you never could."

Berlin seemed like he was sulking. Good. She found it looked good on him.

"Don't you have a door to guard?"

"Sure. But I've got a hostage pet of my own to do it for me. Such eternal devotion, can you believe it? He's loyal, strong and capable." Paris said it like she had real practical experience. She sat on the table and faced him. "Besides, I'm on a break."

"So am I. So unless it's important, go bother someone else." He sneered. Ah, he's back to normal.

"Nah. I think I'll stay here for a while. So." She cocked her head to a side. "If you wanted to fuck so badly, all you had to do was ask. Me."

Berlin laughed in his infuriating way.

"Oh, Paris, Paris. I think you're still not over me."

"Maybe. But what's that gotta do with sex?"

Berlin didn't answer but there was a small smile playing on his lips.

Realisation dawned on her. She got off the table and stood facing him. "You wanted more!" She laughed. "All that talk of marriage! I thought it was to either turn her on or turn you on."

"Well, marriage seems to suit me well. After all, I've been married five times before." Berlin smiled, mockingly.

Paris raised an eyebrow.

"We were together a lot longer than this and you never brought the subject of marriage up with me."

"Aww, come on, Paris. You mean more to me than a mere hostage. I wouldn't want you playing nursemaid to a dying man. You're much too valuable."

It was a twisted logic that could only have made sense in a Berlin sort of a way. Despite the teasing way he said it in, she knew him well enough to know that his sense of honour had gotten in the way of a wishful fantasy, and that he had chosen honour in her case and fantasy in Ariadna's. Coming from Berlin, it was a noble act, romantic even. And almost flattering.

Almost.

"So you wanna wed and bed a hostage and leave her your money because you don't value her. But you won't do the same for me because you do value me." She hated the thought of a stranger by his side in his last moments- it was a privilege she thought belonged to her alone.

Berlin smirked. "If it makes you feel any better, we did bed. Many times." He gestured between them. "In some cultures, that's considered marriage."

Paris scowled at him. How she itched to wipe that smirk off his face. Only Berlin could make her want to kiss him and kill him at the same time.

"Such grand plans. And what makes you think you're getting out of here alive?"

Berlin's smirk faltered for the tiniest moment. He looked at her for a long moment before he said two words:

"I don't."

And that's when she knew. Berlin hoped that they would all get out alive but he really didn't think it was possible. He wouldn't leave things to chances, though, because he always had a plan. And there was only one plan, only one thing a dying man could offer. She slapped him.

"Son of a bitch!" She cursed. He didn't look surprised at her outburst. Far from it, it looked as though he welcomed it.

She slapped him again. And again.

She raised her hand again and Berlin caught it in his. He slowly shook his head. Please don't, he seemed to say and she felt her eyes sting. He smiled sadly and blinked, looking away himself.

She reached out and touched his face. He closed his eyes and turned to her, leaning into her touch and sighed as her other hand cupped the side of his face. She threaded through his hair and pulled him closer to plant a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He whispered her name in her ear. She pulled away to look at him and their gaze locked. Their arms wrapped around each other as they leaned in, only inches away from each other.

And then their lips met, they kissed and were overcome by a sense of desperate need and urgency, giving into months and years of bottled up passion.

They broke away when Berlin carried her in his arms and deposited her gently on the sofa.

She eyed Berlin's medicine kit. There were many shots left in it and she was sure it even had a secret compartment. If he's made up his mind, he won't need it anymore. She fingered the tranquiliser in her pocket just as the door opened and Berlin came in.

She gazed into his eyes hoping she wouldn't read there what she feared. No such luck.

There was a sense of foreboding hanging over them both. And he walked with a sense of purpose and grim resolve that wasn't there in him before. Like a man prepared to go to the gallows.

"No,"

Berlin looked up.

"So you've made up your mind. Fine. Fine. But I need something I can take with me so that I can forget you now. Give me something that's yours so that I can remember you later. A token. Something."

Berlin smiled and then leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her forehead and a lingering one on her lips. He whispered into her ears.

"I give you three." He traced a hand down her body and paused briefly at her belly.

He knew. She could see it in his eyes. She sighed. Tokyo and Rio weren't the only ones who had some fun at the mansion. They simply happened to be more professional.

"Do you remember the place we three had once, you, me and Sergio, with a blue safe in the wall?

"Yes. The one where you wanted to collect seashells." Berlin nodded.

"Find it. Sergio knows the combination."

"I love you." She said, as though her lips had a life of their own.

Berlin said nothing but took her hands in his and pressed it to his lips.

The hour had come.

Berlin spoke into the microphone. Paris pulled him down to speak to the Professor herself. Ariadna stood around nervously. Poor girl, she thought.

"Professor. I'm ready to go down the tunnel." Some of the soldiers in the group were loyal to the Professor just as Helsinki was to Berlin. She couldn't risk them ruining what little time she had left. The tunnel took an average person several minutes to get through. It would take her less than that. She knew her way around tunnels.

"Go ahead," the Professor replied.

She turned to Berlin.

"Go on, Paris," he commanded. She nodded and came closer to him. Berlin gave a very quick glance behind her. She knew he was signalling to Helsinki to stand by to drag her away if it came to it.

She put up her hand behind her. "Wait." She couldn't leave without a final goodbye.

She stood on her toes and wrapped an arm around him. He paused as though afraid she would pull a trick on him. How well he knew her. If it were under different circumstances, and if she had tranquilisers with her right then, she would have stuck them in him and dragged him through the tunnel herself. But no, Berlin wanted to go out in a blaze of glory and honour. And you couldn't stall a dying man, much less a dead man. Only Berlin could make her want to kiss him and kill him at the same time. She chose the former.

"No tricks." She reassured him. She leaned in to kiss him and he didn't resist. He wrapped an arm around her as he kissed her back. They pulled away, almost reluctantly.

"Paris..." he said. It took him long enough but he was going to say it. She smiled and then backed away towards the vault.

"Come with me."

He shook his head. Of course, he would.

"I love you," he said, at last, smiling. Death freeing him to say what he always wanted to.

And just as she was about to enter the vault and never see him again, he spoke again:

"Bella Ciao, Bella Ciao..."

And she replied: "Bella ciao, ciao, ciao."

We are the resistance. She entered the vault and with a brief nod in Nairobi's direction, entered the tunnel.

She would mourn later.

Andres, Sergio and she had grown up together. They played together in the sand and threw pebbles into ponds. Sergio was always the quiet, serious one. Andres was loud and fun. She was wild and carefree. She loved spending time with the brothers, especially Andres. They bonded very quickly.

She was a very pretty child and had grown up to be a very pretty woman. One day, a college student gave her a birthday present. He blushed as he did so, but she accepted the small parcel quite graciously.

Andres and Sergio had sprayed it with anti-septic disinfectants while she stood there rolling her eyes. When she finally got to take it with her and open it in private, she was overjoyed.

It was a blue wooden boat the boy had made himself. It was named Freedom. Berlin looked upset when he learnt of it. Paris didn't mention it to him again.

The very next birthday, he gave her a present, too. It was a red boat and he had handcrafted out of wood himself. Although it looked artfully made, the craftsmanship was not perfect. It was crude in places and the painting was irregular. It was still lovely, though. She loved it.

A couple of days later, the blue boat had gone missing. Paris thought it had something to do with Berlin but he denied it vehemently. Sergio took his side and defended his brother. After a bit of a fight, she gave up. Berlin looked so sad later that she ended up cheering him up. For a moment, she thought she saw a mischievous smile on his lips. But she brushed it aside for his sake.

Are you still mad at me? he had asked her.

Of course not, Andres, she had said. It's just a boat. And she had kissed his cheek. They held hands as they sat together on the steps of the house.

In the blue safe in front of her, among the other items, were two small wooden boats. One was blue and had the word Freedom written on it. Oh, Andres, she thought as she imagined him grinning mischievously at her. The other was red. Paris smiled and picked up the red boat. She closed the safe behind her and hugged it to her chest, and moments later left the apartment.

The red boat was named The Resistance.