It had without a doubt been one of the weirdest days in Raquel's life.

The heist in the Fábrica having been one weird day after another for a week… it said a lot.

After their talk with Tokio, Sergio had slipped back into his Professor mode, a part of him that she hadn't seen in two years, in order to make contact with his dormant network of transporters and reunite the band. Tokio moping on a chair in the main room, Raquel had stood there for a while, watching her man do what he did best.

After all the calls had been made, Sergio had shot her a hesitant look. Given her reaction when he'd suggested that she go to Mindanao, he wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. On the other hand, could he really ask her to get involved in this mess? She had joined him in Palawan in spite of having to live as fugitives, but this was taking things a step further – actively putting them both in danger.

"Raquel…"

She nodded. "I'm with you," she reminded him. "I'll talk to Paula."

The rest of the afternoon had been spent packing for Paula and Mariví and convincing her daughter that yes she did have to go on a trip with Abuela and her nurse, no Mamá and Sergio couldn't come, yes they had to leave now – Raquel didn't want them anywhere near Tokio; that girl was radioactive.

Paula didn't know that her mother and stepfather were fugitives. Raquel planned on keeping it that way and had had to make up an excuse for that surprise trip, and she didn't feel good about it.

The three of them shared a light supper. Tokio kept brooding. Sergio was preoccupied. The house felt empty without her family. They ate in silence – which was probably preferable, Raquel thought as she glanced at Tokio.

She had that awful sinking feeling that their happiness in Palawan was coming to an end.

She had known it was inevitable. Someone was bound to fuck up at some point and require the Professor's help; Tokio, with her immaturity and explosive temperament, had been at the top of her list. How she wished she could grab Tokio and shake her and yell, yes, you fucked up, now snap out of it and help us clean up your mess!

Then she thought of Río and her stomach churned.

Raquel had never endorsed torture, but she knew some of her former colleagues felt differently. She knew it still happened in every democracy, even Spain – hell, torture had been widely used up until forty years ago, when she and Sergio were toddlers; it wasn't that long ago. She'd heard vague stories, rumours in the police, that were impossible to verify. But everyone knew. They just chose to turn a blind eye to it; it was none of their business. Some might argue that in extreme cases it was necessary: the end justified the means. There was even this student at the Academia with her, Alicia, who was proud to say she didn't see the problem with it… Raquel shuddered just thinking about it.

Río had been detained eleven days without anybody knowing… She knew what that meant.

Of course they wouldn't leave him there. Not in a million years.

After dinner, Sergio showed Tokio to the guest room, just across the hall from theirs. She thanked him with a nod and he squeezed her shoulder. "I'll figure something out."

Raquel sighed. She didn't know what she would have done if it had been Sergio, if he had been caught and tortured by her fault… she could only begin to imagine Tokio's distress.

She relented and wished the girl a good night.

When she entered the bedroom after getting ready for the night, Sergio was sitting on the edge of the bed, bouncing his leg and staring into the distance. She sat beside him.

The transporters had given him updates and everyone was on their way, Mariví and Paula would arrive in Mindanao in the morning. All he had to do was wait for the rest of the band, which would take a few days, and start coming up with a plan in the meantime. But that meant extra days in jail for Río, and he didn't like sitting idle.

She slipped her hand in his and squeezed it.

"I can't think, Raquel," he confessed in a whisper. "It's a mess. I'm… panicked. I want to get him out now but I don't have a plan. We don't even know where they're holding him."

"I know, darling." She let him rest his head on her shoulder and she kissed his hair. "You know what you need?" she suggested after a moment of quiet. "A distraction."

"Raquel… Tokio is just next door," he protested, even though he let her tilt his face toward her and kiss him softly, tantalizingly.

"Guess you'll have to be quiet then."

He snorted. "Oh, I'll have to be quiet?"

She shut him up with another, deeper kiss; he kissed back. He may have protested just a second ago, his reaction told her that she had sparked his interest.

They shifted so they could face each other. Pretty soon, their hands were drifting lower from each other's face, slipping under items of clothing, caressing warm flesh. When their lips parted and Sergio endeavoured to kiss her neck, Raquel happily let him for a minute, then gently pulled him away and began lifting his shirt, which he removed. However, she stopped him before he could take off her nightgown.

"Professor, you have sorely disappointed me," she teased him. "Trying to hide me when you should know better. You'll have to be very nice to me if you want me to forgive you."

He grinned. Their roleplay would definitely succeed in distracting him. God, how he loved playing with her. How lucky he felt to have found someone so in tune with him. "I'm very sorry. How could I possibly make it up to you, Inspectora?"

She had an enticing grin. "Lie back."

He happily did as he was told, moving further up the bed.

Raquel stood and, tantalizingly slowly, lifted her nightgown and let it drop to the floor.

Sergio couldn't take his eyes off of the curves and lines of her body, beautifully defined by the dimmed lights. She was literally perfect – there was nothing about her he didn't like.

She reached up to his waist and pulled down his pants and underwear, and he lifted his hips to help her. Then, she slowly crawled on top of him, peppering kisses on his chest along the way, and kissed him deeply before she rose up on her knees, hovering above his chest.

"No," she whispered when he reached for his glasses to take them off. "Keep them on, Professor."

He was a little flustered for a second, and she loved that. He quickly recovered however and rested his hands on her thighs, caressing them slowly.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.

She suppressed her grin – she wouldn't describe herself as an insecure person, but hearing him say it always filled her chest with joy. "You won't buy me with compliments, Professor."

They stared into each other's eyes as he continued with his ministrations, his hands slowly drifting upwards, hers tangling in his hair and caressing his beard. He watched her eyes darken and her tongue darting out to lick her lips, as he caressed her hips, the crook of her waist, her taut stomach, stopping just below her breasts. She shuddered ever so slightly and cupped her own breast when his hands trailed down to her ass.

Her breathing quickened and a blush rose to her face as he cupped her cheeks and spread them gently, brushing her sex as he inched his way to her inner thighs.

She gasped.

"Inspectora," he spoke up then, caressing her inner thighs without touching her where she needed. "I owe you an apology for our little misunderstanding earlier. It was never my intention to hide you from our unexpected guest. I was merely suggesting –"

"Shut up and put that mouth to better use," she ordered, pressing her thumb across his lips. "Professor."

He was more than happy to oblige.

Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he helped her get settled just above his mouth. She slipped her hands into his hair again and watched him get to work.

He began by kissing her inner thighs, rubbing his beard against her sensitive skin, while his hands continued their adoration of her ass. Soon enough, she was moaning above him and he finally dipped his tongue into her slit. Raquel moaned and rolled her hips to press herself further against his mouth. He leisurely explored her folds for a while, making sure she was all warmed up and ready, then probed her entrance a few times, eliciting soft moans from her, before giving her bud all the attention it deserved. It was swollen and engorged, and she was so sensitive she let out a yelp when his tongue made contact.

And from then on he never relented.

With one of her hands she played with her nipple, with the other she still had a firm grip on his hair, keeping him right where she wanted him. He licked and suckled her at a steady rhythm, loving her deep moans of pleasure above him. After a while, he felt her tremble in his hands, and knowingly slowed down.

"God," she gasped, reaching out to hold onto the headboard with one hand. He used his thumb and forefinger to gently pinch her clit, teasing it with sharp darts of his tongue. She quivered every time he did. It wasn't enough to push her over the edge but each stroke sent a sharp surge of electricity up her spine, making her moan from deep within her chest. "You're not making a good case for yourself, Professor," she somehow managed to utter.

She felt him smile against her sex. "I'm very sorry, Inspectora."

He pulled her clit between his lips again, with no intention whatsoever of stopping until she came, she knew.

He held her thighs firmly and Raquel grabbed the headboard with both hands, rubbing herself against his mouth with luxurious moans. When she tensed and threw her head back he slipped a couple fingers inside her to rub her spot, causing her to shatter with a scream. She came in long endless waves and he quelled his caresses in time, until she slipped a hand into his hair to pull him away when she was overly sensitive.

She gazed down at him with an elated grin, breathless, laughing a little, her hair cascading down her face. He couldn't resist holding it out of the way, just behind her ears.

"Am I forgiven, Inspectora?"

She looked at him. His beard was soaked with her juices.

"You always are," she said softly, running her hand through his hair.

She wanted him again, but in a very different way.

They were hit, the way they always were, by the intensity of their love for each other. It forced them into silence, looking at each other in peace.

"Come back down, my love," he whispered.

"Yes."

"I want to hold you."

Her legs being about as robust as jelly, he helped her manoeuver herself back on the bed. She lay on her flank beside him and he rolled onto his side to face her, his erection nestled against her wet folds when she scooted closer to him. They were skin against skin, from their chests to their toes – much to their delight.

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly, tasting herself on his lips. She kept bumping into his glasses so he pulled away for a second to finally take them off, making her giggle. When they looked into each other's eyes again, they felt the shift in their dynamic. With his glasses he had shed his Professor persona and only Sergio remained. Without breaking eye-contact they exchanged soft caresses for a while, enjoying each other.

"I want you."

It was whispered between them and the feeling was so mutual they didn't know who had verbalised it.

She shifted her hips and hooked her leg over his pelvis, giving him a couple tugs before guiding him inside her. He wrapped a hand over her hip to pull her close and slowly slid inside her, warm and tight and wet, all the way to the hilt. She was still sensitive from her orgasm and she gasped against his mouth as he stretched her walls with a delicious tingle.

They closed their eyes and sighed with contentment, happy to not move and just kiss softly for a while.

Eventually, without really realizing, she started moving her hips, ever so slowly. They stopped kissing and looked into each other's eyes, their noses touching.

"You feel good."

"So do you."

She caressed his bearded cheek tenderly and with smiles on their faces they relished the feeling of being one, the way it was meant to be. They basked it in, washed in their love for each other, expressing it through delicate caresses and lingering kisses and complicit gazes.

But this time something was different.

They could feel danger looming. An impending sense of doom, of slowly but surely fissuring peace. The anticipation of upcoming criminal activity, of uncertainty and anxiety.

Raquel used to be nervous about his trips to Manila. They were both exceedingly careful, but she knew every time they set foot outside their home they ran the risk of being recognised, of being arrested. She had gotten used to the dangers of the fugitive lifestyle, to the point where she had confidently let him go to Thailand for a few days, but still: until he crossed the threshold of the house again she held her breath.

Whatever plan he was going to come up with... it was going to feel a lot worse than a short trip to the capital city. They would be going back to Spain. Whether they were going to be literally breaking Río out of prison, or exerting pressure on the government any other way...

They could get caught.

They could die.

Her smile faded and she held onto him just a little bit tighter, her throat tight with anguish. She didn't want their happiness to end.

She didn't know if he saw it in her eyes or if he was thinking of the same thing but he held her tighter and pressed his forehead against hers and they closed their eyes.

"I don't want to lose you, Raquel," he whispered.

He was torn – she heard his despair in his voice and it made her eyes sting – he didn't want to do this without her, but he didn't want to drag her in this mess, either. He didn't want to risk their peace, their happiness.

"I know." She rested her hand on the side of his face and rocked her hips more purposefully, desperately wanting to make love to him. He followed her rhythm, their gasps mingling. "I'm with you, Sergio, I'm in this with you."

She wasn't going to let herself get caught, or to let him get caught, for that matter. She wasn't going to let anyone take what they had built in Palawan. She wouldn't stop at anything, and neither would he, she knew.

She would die for him. She would kill for him.

She opened her eyes bearing that absolute certainty.

Surely enough, he was gazing back at her with that same look, that same intensity in his eyes. Staring into each other's eyes with unwavering loyalty, overcome with their devotion for each other, was what nearly pushed her over the edge. She slipped a hand between them and began to rub her clit, following the rhythm of their hips. As her walls squeezed him, it didn't take long for them to feel the tension build up to the point of no-return.

"Together," she gasped against his mouth.

"Yeah."

He didn't need to be told when – he knew her body so well. They fell at the same time, clinging to each other, seemingly for hours. When it did end, as improbable as that sounded, they stared into each other's eyes for a long while, with peace and devotion, until they dozed off, their limbs still tangled and their hands clasped.

Thank you for reading! This fic has been literal months in the making, so I hope you liked it. Please don't hesitate to leave a review and let me know what you think :)

I'd like to thank Evendale for taking a look at this fic and offering much needed advice!

I hope season 4 will be everything we hope it to be. ...well, mostly everything, otherwise what are we going to write about? ;) I will see you guys soon!