They decide the next mission will be their last.

It has to be.

They can't do this anymore.

They're lying in a cheap hotel room in Iceland, the Northern Lights playing on the walls around them. Wheeler is running his hands through Linka's hair, pulling at the kinks and knots, and she sighs in appreciation.

It's been a long week, and she's tired. As tired as the decor of this depressing hotel. As tired as Gaia looks when she summons them for yet another eco-emergency. As tired as the planet must be of it's destructive human guests.

She's tired, and only Wheeler's hands on her body keeps her sane. Only the promise of his mouth against hers keeps her awake enough to make it to the next day. He is the promise of a better life, her key to a better future, that keeps her fighting.

Or kept her fighting, at least. Because they've decided they're done with it all. Done with risking their lives and sacrificing their youth. Done with the constant strain of travel, the unsatisfying restlessness of a shifting, nomadic existence.

They're done. The next mission will be their last.

'You're lookin' battered today, babe,' Wheeler exhales unhappily, running a finger over the piebald pattern of bruises that decorate her shoulders.

She shrugs. 'One of Doctor Blight's ruffians got a little too...' she pauses, uncertain on how to phrase the unwelcome feeling of a strange man's hands on her body. 'A little too close to me,' she eventually decides, and instantly feels one of Wheeler's hands stiffen in her hair.

'Oh, yeah?' He says lightly, but there is a hidden depth to his voice Linka recognises. He's furious on her behalf. 'Want me to kill him? I'd do it for you. Get out there and find him right now, use my bare hands to-'

Linka turns, catching Wheeler's hand within her own and shaking her head. 'No,' she says with a small smile. 'No. I need you here. There are better things you can do tonight with your bare hands.'

He softens at her touch, at the placating intimacy of her eyes and words. But when grins at her, that lopsided smile that still makes her heart flutter, it's with a regretful shake of his head.

'Sorry, babe, but I ain't layin' a finger on you tonight,' he replies, and she stares at him.

'But...'

'Nope,' he says, more firmly now. 'Your back looks like you've just done five rounds with Mike Tyson. The last thing you need is me manhandlin' you too.'

She pouts. 'Who says I need to be on my back so you can 'manhandle' me?' she asks, and he bursts into laughter, kissing the tip of her nose.

'Fuck,' he grins. 'If six months ago, someone had told me you'd be sayin' things like that to me, of all people, I'd have told them they were crazy. Or that maybe you were.'

Linka's face falls a little at his words. 'Has it really only been six months?' She asks quietly, and he smiles at her, running a finger under her chin.

'Best six months of my life,' he tells her. 'Only six months that have ever counted for anything.'

She sighs, leaning against him, wrapping an arm around his neck. 'It is not like you to turn me down,' she says. 'Normally you want the sex all the time.'

He laughs again, going back to running a hand through her hair. 'Nah,' he replies. 'I want you all the time. The sex is just an added benefit. One of the perks of the Linka package,' he pauses, and she can feel him smirking behind her. 'Besides, you're one to talk. Who was it that dragged me into that barn in Canada last month again? Oh yeah...' he places a kiss on her neck. 'That was you.'

She swats at him playfully. 'You did not complain at the time.'

He shrugs. 'Couldn't. My mouth was busy doin' other things.'

'Yankee-' she goes to swat him again, but he's ready for her this time. He grabs her wrists with one hand, holding them firm, before using the other to tickle her waist. She writhes against him, laughing and protesting all at once, but he holds her tight. She tries to twist away, but he shakes his head, tickling her even more, his hand gripping her wrists harder. Once again, she's reminded of just how strong and reliable this man is, how safe and at home she feels in his arms, and she begins to feel that ember of desire she always carries for him fan into flames. She twists again, but this time it's only to move her mouth over his, and his hand falls still as she kisses him. He's distracted, lost in the press of her tongue against his, and she pulls at him, tumbling him onto the bed, the cheap mattress curving under their combined weight. He edges his body closer to hers, pulling at the hem of her shirt, but as she goes to wrench the fabric from her body she winces, and he sits back as though she's burned him.

'Sit up,' he tells her, his voice authoritative. 'Don't lie on the bruises. I'm gonna get you some ice for your back.'

'I already looked,' she tells him, still wincing. 'There is not an ice machine or even a refrigerator.'

He runs a hand through his hair. 'So this is Iceland. I'll go outside, grab a handful of snow from the-'

But once more Linka pulls at his hand. 'Don't go,' she pleads. 'I need you here.'

He sighs. 'Babe-'

'Just lie next to me,' she asks, and he nods slowly. He moves back over to her, lying her on her front, her arms under her head, before settling next to her, on his side, looking into her eyes, one of his hands on the curve of her hip.

'I hate this,' he says. 'I hate seein' you like this.'

'We will be done soon enough,' she replies with a sigh.

'Thank fuck for that,' he exhales. 'I just want you to myself now. I'm done sharing you with these fuckin' eco-villains who wouldn't think twice about killin' you.'

'One more mission,' Linka promises, and he runs a hand over her forehead.

'One more,' he agrees.

Linka bites her lip. 'Will you miss it?' She asks him, her voice low, and he closes his eyes for a moment, considering.

'Nah,' he finally replies. 'The only thing I'd ever miss from it all is comin' with me.'

'I will miss the others,' she confesses, and Wheeler smiles at her.

'We'll see them all again,' he assures her. 'When we get our first house we'll have 'em all to stay,' he grins at her, abruptly mischievous. 'I'll take Kwame and Ma-Ti to the local Hooters, show them both what American girls are made of.'

She rolls her eyes. 'And what about this Russian girl, Yankee? What will she be doing while you are out... hootering?'

He grins again. 'My Russian girl will be at home with Gi, waiting for me to get back, our baby on your knee and my dinner in the oven.'

She shakes her head at him, but blushes all the same. 'Bozhe Moi. What is it you Americans say... ah yes, 'in your dreams', I think it is?'

He nods. 'You know it. I can't wait to marry you and knock you up.'

She gazes at him, her eyes hard. 'After my studies,' she reminds him, and he smiles.

'So we spend a few years practicin',' he shrugs. 'That sounds pretty good to me.'

'Hmm,' she replies, closing her eyes, feeling the warmth from his hand spread through the aches of her lower back.

'You don't ever think about it?' He asks her suddenly, and she opens her eyes again.

'What, Yankee?'

'About havin' a family, you and me?'

She pauses. 'It is hard to think further than tomorrow, in a job like ours.'

He frowns. 'That's what Ma-Ti said.'

'It is the truth,' she says with a small sigh. Abruptly, she sits up on one hand. 'Why... do you think about it, Yankee?'

'Yeah,' he confesses softly. 'Yeah, I do.'

She smiles at him. 'What do you think of?'

Now he's the one who's blushing, his cheeks turning a dull red. She smiles at him, running her hand over his arm, encouraging him. 'Tell me,' she urges, and he closes his eyes.

'Just the usual stuff, I guess,' he replies. 'A house. A couple of kids...'

'Boys or girls?' She asks, curious now, but he only shrugs.

'Doesn't matter. The only details I care about are that it's you and me, together for always. Everything else...' he waves a hand. 'Everything else is just background.'

She nestles in close next to him, feeling his breath against her hair, warm and even.

'You and me,' she sighs, and leans up to kiss him on the mouth. He responds to her lips lazily, moving slowly against her. 'You and me,' she says again. 'That is what is important. Navsegda, yes? The details will take care of themselves in the future, Yankee.'

She kisses him harder, but he pulls away, giving her a fond glance. 'Don't think I don't know what you're tryin' to do, Babe. It ain't gonna work. I told you. I ain't layin' a finger on you tonight.'

'Yankee-'

'Get some sleep,' he tells her. 'I gotta sneak back to my room in a few hours. Wouldn't mind getting in a few hours next to you before then.'

He turns off the small lamp on her bedside table, but the Northern lights are bright, reflecting off of the hotel's cheap plaster walls, and the room is bathed with an eerie green glow. Wheeler's arms circle Linka's waist, and she feels him fall asleep beside her, the weight of him warm and satisfying on her skin. For a time she watches the lights play upon the walls, before her own eyes close, sleep claiming her slowly.

When his alarm sounds, waking them both, he kisses her shoulder.

'I gotta go,' he apologises into her ear, 'or else Kwame and the others will ask awkward questions.'

He hugs her to him, and she feels, through the thin fabric of her sleep shorts, just how hard he is against her. Desire flares through her once again and she cannot help but grind against him, so that he moans, low in her ear.

'If you do that I might not be able to stop-' he starts to protest, before she silences him with a kiss.

'So do not stop then,' she whispers in his ear, as she pulls her shorts down, climbing on top of him.

Later, after she's ridden him into an orgasm that made him swear violently, his hands digging into her waist, his hips bucking hard beneath her, he dresses with shaky hands, looking at her with eyes full of both admonishment and wonder.

'Always gotta have the last word, hey Babe?' He chuckles, and she smiles lazily back at him.

'Da, Yankee,' she replies, 'potomu chto ya vsegda prav.'

He raises one inquisitive eyebrow. 'Meaning?'

She grins. 'Because I am always right.'

He laughs too, before a look crosses his face, a look that falls somewhere between love and fear. He reaches down, wrapping an arm around her and burying his head in her shoulder.

'Yankee-' she starts in concern, but he shakes his head.

'I'm okay,' he tells her. 'I'm okay. One more mission, right?'

'One more,' she promises him. 'One more, and then it is you and me.'

'Navsegda,' he agrees, as he moves to leave her room, pressing a final kiss to her shoulder which lingers on her skin.

'Navsegda,' she repeats, watching as he closes the door behind him.

Sex, food and sleep.

Sex, food and sleep.

For a day and a half, Wheeler provides Linka with all three, so that by the time Monday morning arrives, her body is rested, satisfied and full.

It's snowing outside and the sky is grey when Wheeler opens his curtains, the morning light making Linka frown, and he dives back into bed beside her, hauling her body against his.

'Fuck it's cold,' he complains. 'Good thing you're nice and warm, hey babe?'

'I was,' she mock-argues, trying unsuccessfully to push him away from her. 'I do not understand it. You were chosen to represent fire, and yet here you are, trying to steal heat from me.'

He shrugs, pulling her even closer. 'So? You're meant to be wind and yet you're still the hottest thing I've ever seen,' he squeezes her, before kissing her gently. 'I forgot to switch the heating on last night. That's why it's a little cold this morning.'

'You forgot?' She asks, settling into his arms.

He grins. 'Well... I should say I was a little... preoccupied,' he runs a hand along the curve of her breast, making his point, and she blushes hard. 'Sorry babe,' he kisses her softly. 'I'll make sure I turn on the heating tonight.'

She stiffens in his arms as his words, so innocuous and lightly spoken, settle in her mind.

'James-' she begins, but Wheeler squeezes her again.

'I'm gonna take you out tonight,' he carries on. 'There's this great vegetarian place I've heard of. It'll be you, me and a cocktail or three, babe.'

'James-' she tries again, but the look he gives her is both desperate and pleading.

'Don't,' he begs quietly. 'Don't say it.'

'James... James... my Yankee,' she says, trying to ignore the wounded pain already visible in his eyes. 'You know I will not be here tonight.'

Her words are like a breath of cold air, exhaled heavily into the already frigid room. Wheeler looks at her as though she's slapped him, his face pale.

'You're gonna leave me again, aren't you?' His voice is immensely sad, his shoulders set in a resigned slump.

'I have to,' she replies simply. 'This was never going to be a permanent arrangement, James. You know that.'

'You could still always marry me, the offer's there,' he suggests, a hopeful light flaring within him, and she bites her lip.

'James,' she begins. 'You know I cannot just-'

'Course you can,' he argues. 'We could do it today, babe. Down at the courthouse, just you and me.'

She pauses, staring at him.

'And what about my life back in the UK?' She asks him. 'Say I marry you, and stay here- not that this is even guaranteed to happen, American immigration might still throw me out- what about my life in Cambridge?'

He pulls her close to him. 'You don't have to leave your life. I wouldn't ask that of you, babe. I'll come to the UK, be with you, if you like.'

For a moment, Linka smiles. A spark of hope runs through her, and she feels her heart and mind lighten.

He will come with her. He really wants to be with her.

'You... but you would not leave Brooklyn,' she replies hesitantly, and he sighs, drawing a finger down her cheek, tilting her head until she's meeting the hot gaze of his eyes.

'I would,' he says seriously. 'I can't let you go again, babe. I can't go back to the way things were.'

'Yankee,' she tries to look away, but his hand is firm on her cheek, holding her to him. 'I have only been here three days. Three days, out of nearly ten years. You will be fine without me,' she sighs next to him, common sense as always fighting against her emotions for dominance. 'You have been fine without me, all these years.'

He shakes his head, an ugly, disbelieving laugh escaping his lips. 'I've been in love with you since I was seventeen, Lin. Seventeen. And yeah, I've been fine without you. I'm a reasonable guy, I know you can't always get what you want in life. I'm practical, I'm resilient, so yeah, I'm fine without you. I'll always be fine without you.' He stops, running his thumb along her lips, along her ears and down her cheeks. 'But I don't want to be just fine anymore, babe. I want to be happy. I want to feel everyday the way I feel when I'm with you. I need you like I need air to breathe and food to eat, Lin. I need you.'

She smiles again at that, at the depth of feeling so utterly on display for her. 'Really?' She asks tentatively, one of her hands curling in his hair.

'Yeah,' he replies with a grin. 'You're everything to me, babe. And I think you feel the same, even if you never say it with words-'

'Of course I feel the same,' she interjects, almost frantically. 'Of course I do. I always have. Since the first day I met you... since the moment you first called me 'babe'... since the moment you first...' she exhales shakily, smiling at him timidly.

'First what?' Wheeler prompts her gently.

'Since the moment you first got on my nerves,' she laughs. 'It has always been you. It has always been us. We were always meant to be.'

Wheeler kisses her fiercely, before putting both hands on her shoulders. 'So this is it,' his voice is restrained, almost disbelieving, as he clearly struggles to process the knowledge that his dreams might be coming true, right before his eyes. 'You and me. We're doin' this.'

'Yes,' she nods happily. 'Yes, we are.'

He exhales heavily. 'And you're gonna marry me, right?'

'Yes,' she nods again.

'I'd like that in Russian too,' he grins at her. 'You know, just to be extra sure.'

She kisses him, a butterfly press of her lips to his. 'Da, ya vyydu za tebya zamuzh, ya budu s toboy navsegda.'

'Navsegda,' Wheeler repeats the only word he understands. 'Navsegda... forever. I'm holdin' you to that, babe. I won't be lettin' go of you this time, not for anything.'

His lips against hers this time are soft, but the intent behind it is clear, and when he deepens the kiss, his hands gliding lower along Linka's back, she smiles into his mouth.

'I still need to go to the embassy.'

He shrugs. 'I'm comin' with you. Might as well start the process of applying for my UK visa today. And we need to make you a UK citizen-'

'Subject,' Linka corrects him. 'They are a constitutional monarchy.'

'Look at you, correctin' my English for once,' Wheeler smiles at her. 'Okay. We need to make you a UK subject, so that we can marry over there as soon as possible. We can have one of those picture perfect English countryside weddings. Invite all your friends. And Babe, it gets even better: it's too far for my Mom to come, she won't fly all that way-'

'Yankee-' Linka begins to admonish him, but he kisses her again.

'Don't worry, I'll still invite her. But don't be surprised if she won't come.'

Linka runs a hand along the length of his chest. 'I do not need a picture perfect English wedding,' she tells him. 'Just you and me. Kwame, Sam and Haya. That's all.'

Wheeler's eyes brighten with happiness. 'Yeah, that sounds great. But what about your friends? You don't want anyone else?'

'I do not really have friends, as such,' she replies with a shrug. 'Kwame and Sam have been the only friends I really need. And Richard too, sometimes, but he will not want to come and-'

'Richard?' Wheeler's face falls, and he bites his lip. 'You mean Doctor Cox? Your... your ex-boyfriend? You still see him?'

Linka nods, gazing at him steadily. 'On occasion.'

'When did you last see him?' Wheeler's question is instant.

'I do not know,' Linka thinks. 'Maybe a month ago? A little more?'

'Right,' Wheeler replies tightly, and Linka snakes an arm around his shoulders.

'I have just agreed to marry you, Yankee, and you are already jealous?'

'I'll always be jealous of any man you deem worthy of your time or affection,' she watches as he gives a stoic shrug of his shoulders.

Linka laid a hand against his chest, feeling the thudding of his heart beneath. The heart that she understands is beating solely for her.

'James,' she begins, even though he refuses to meet her eyes. 'James, listen to me,' she pulls at his cheek, brings his eyes to look down into hers. 'Yankee, I am yours. My time and affection are yours, first and foremost, forever more. Do not be jealous.'

He takes a deep breath. 'It's just that I love you, so much. And it hurts when I think of anyone else havin' a piece of you too.'

'I love you,' Linka sighs in his arms. 'But you know you will have to share me, from time to time? Kwame and Sam need me. My students will need me. You will have to share sometimes, my love.'

He nods slowly. 'I know,' he finally exhales. 'I know. But they've had you for ten years. I kinda feel like it's my turn now to have you to myself. Even if only for a little while.'

Linka smiles into his eyes. 'We will have to take a long honeymoon then.'

Wheeler's eyes light up. 'Yeah,' he agrees enthusiastically. 'Yeah, a beach and you in a bikini is just what I need. Hawaii? Or maybe the Bahamas? We could even...' he swallows. 'We could even visit Hope Island. If you want to.'

She hugs him, laying a head against his shoulder. 'So long as we are together, it does not matter.'

'You're right,' Wheeler nods. 'You and me, a beach somewhere and then Colorado. Navsegda,' he breathes deeply. 'The way it's meant to be.'

For a few moments they hold each other, soaking in each other's presence and the promises they have just made. It's quiet, the snow still falling outside, but warm, and Linka knows she could stay like this happily forever. But she also knows that-

From outside the room, a loud knocking sounds.

It grows in noise and frequency, and whoever is at Wheeler's door is clearly desperate to be in.

Wheeler looks at Linka, disentangling from her and pulling on his clothes. And Linka watches him go, feeling an aching sadness when she realises that their time together is over.

And she hates that what should feel like a beginning feels more like an ending.