(A/N): Hey everyone! Hope you all are doing well and having a relaxing weekend! I'm getting ready to move next week so my Saturday has basically just been me ignoring everything I need to do because avoidance is the name of the game.

Thanks to RubiSlippers, , ravengypsyx, 1991, jackiefrye, carolinamaiah, and Guest for reviewing! You guys are the best and I love hearing your thoughts about this story and where you think it's going.

Some dialogue is taken from Arrow S1E16. It's just one scene though- the rest of the flashbacks in that episode will be covered in the next chapter.

All the hugs to Catzandbookz8 for pre-reading!

Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

Hermione woke up with tears streaming down her face, the memories of Fenrir's breath on her neck and his muttered threats rasped into her ear still at the forefront of her mind. She sat up and took several deep breaths, trying to ground herself in the present.

It was strange, but her nightmares had become less frequent the longer she was on Lian Yu. Back in Britain, she'd been plagued by bad dreams on an almost nightly basis. Now, they had tapered off into only once or twice a week. Unfortunately, the price for less nightmares was that now all her dreams- both good and bad- were more vivid than they'd ever been before. It had been a while since her subconscious had focused on Fenrir- most of her nightmares were about Dolohov, Bellatrix, or her Hogwarts misadventures- and it had taken her by surprise. Well, that and the fact that most of her recent dreams had a different flavor to them.

After her first training session with Slade, her dreams that night had left her feeling overly warm and aching. Her mind seemed to have fixated on the way it'd felt to have her wrists pinned down and how large his hand was against her throat. Even just remembering it made her flush.

"Am I messed up because of the war?" Hermione wondered aloud, absentmindedly wrapping her fingers around her throat the same way Slade had. "Or was I always like this and just didn't know it?"

She could almost hear Ginny's laughter. Pretty sure you were always a mess, Hermione, she was sure Ginny would say if she was there. But I don't think liking the idea of being pinned down has anything to do with that. Guess you know now why all your other relationships didn't work out.

"I think Dolohov bears part of the blame for that," she muttered, and then groaned because she was having a conversation with an imaginary person. At least it was Ginny this time and not Dolohov.

Those first few months, Hermione kept hearing Dolohov's voice making comments and mocking her attempts to stay positive as she'd figured out how to survive on Lian Yu. She knew that was what he wanted, to worm his way into her mind so that her thoughts revolved around him. And how could they not? He was the reason she was on Lian Yu, the reason for almost all her misery and suffering the last few years. The more confident she became though, the softer that voice was until it finally disappeared altogether, seemingly replaced by Ginny and occasionally Harry.

Hermione threw her blanket off of her and forced herself to her feet. She wasn't going to be getting any more sleep that night, so she might as well get up. Hopefully Slade wouldn't be able to tell how exhausted she was. It had been a few days since they'd last seen one another since she had been visiting Fyers camp for supplies and looking for any information about what he was planning next.

After she'd repacked her things into her bag and unpacked the box of supplies that she'd managed to swipe for Slade, Hermione exited the cave and made her way towards a small clearing beside a creek. The sun was just starting to come up and Hermione set the box aside and pulled off her jacket and shoes, setting everything on a large rock and moving to face towards the east. After several deep breaths, she started going through her morning yoga routine.

Meditation and yoga- her two favorite methods for clearing her mind and managing her stress. Hermione and Ginny had started taking classes a few years before, but they'd been forced to stop when Dolohov started appearing everywhere she was and it had been deemed too dangerous for her to continue going on without being accompanied. Despite her claims that his actions were little more than a taunt and he wasn't going to do anything, Harry and Kingsley had insisted she minimize how much time she spent out in public. Which hadn't done her any good in the end.

It took ten sun salutations for the grip her nightmares had on her to fully loosen, and another ten for Hermione to finally feel genuinely calm. After doing a few more for good measures, she started flowing through as many poses as she could think of, holding them for as long as she could.

The sun had fully risen by the time she finally finished, and Hermione laid on her back for several minutes, enjoying the feeling of the cool breeze on her skin. Once she forced herself upright again, Hermione walked over to the creek and splashed some water on her face. She'd worked up enough of a sweat to enjoy the cold water, but Hermione still desperately missed warm water and actually being able to bathe. During the summer months, she tried her best to wash off as often as she could, but fear of being caught by Fyers men in such a vulnerable state made her hesitate to do it regularly.

Shaking off the excess water on her hands, Hermione went to put her shoes back on, tied her jacket around her waist, and propped the box under her right arm before heading to the clearing to meet Slade.

As soon as Slade spotted her, a gun was pointed at her at her face. "Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say that we devise their misery."

Hermione's eyebrows rose and she carefully set the box down. "But they themselves- in their depravity- design grief greater than the griefs that fate assigns," she finished slowly, straightening up. Taking a step back, she asked, "What was the second potion I gave you?"

"Something to take care of the fluid in my lungs," he answered promptly, lowering his weapon.

She sighed in relief. "I wasn't expecting you to change up the challenge code. Especially not by using another quote. I'm surprised you remembered that one."

He shrugged. "Figured it was time to mix things up." Then, after slowly looking her over, Slade said, "You look like shit, by the way. Did you sleep at all while you were away?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione told him, "I don't see why that matters. Are you going to give me a break from training just because I'm a little tired?" If he did, Hermione would immediately know that he wasn't really Slade, regardless of his ability to answer her challenge question.

Staring critically at the bags under eyes, Slade retorted, "Depends on why you aren't sleeping. If it's because you were travelling, then no. But if there's something else going on, we should probably talk about it before this becomes an actual problem. You're no use to me if you're dead on your feet."

"Why, Slade, I had no idea you cared," she mocked, hiding her discomfort. It's not as though she was deliberately trying not to sleep, and she certainly wasn't going to admit to Slade what was keeping her up at night.

He glowered at her. "You really want to go down this route, girl? With the way you're looking right now, you won't be able to put up a passably good attempt at fighting back even if I took it easy on you, which I won't."

Hermione groaned, hands flying up to press her palms against her eyes. "Look, Slade, this isn't exactly an unusual state for me." She dropped her hands and met his gaze, her shoulders automatically hunching at the intense look in eyes. It felt like he was able to know what she was going to say before she said it, and also knew that it wasn't the full truth. "I don't have a base the way you do. I have some places on the island that I'm able to take shelter in, but nothing I can use long-term. I'm also alone and without the weapon I'm most comfortable handling. There's no one watching my back. I can memorize all of Fyers' patrol patterns and I can tell myself that wherever I am is nowhere near where he's ever gone on the island, but that doesn't shut off the little voice in my mind reminding me of just what could be in store for me if I let my guard down for even a second. I'll admit that I slept even less than I usually do the last few days because I needed to stay close to Fyers camp but being tired is nothing new to me. This is just how it is for me and that's unlikely to change unless or until I make it off Lian Yu."

Slade frowned. "Are you telling me that you haven't been on an even slightly healthy sleep schedule the entire time you've been on Lian Yu?"

"If Fyers found you, he'd likely just kill you," Hermione reminded him softly. "I don't think that would be the case for me."

Glancing off to the side for moment, Slade seemed to be debating something before finally saying, "If you were willing to let Oliver know about you, you'd be able to stay with us. You wouldn't even need to let him know about your magic- we could just say you've also been trapped on the island and wasn't comfortable meeting him until now."

She instantly shook her head. "No. Absolutely not. You may be willing to take a chance on him, but I'm not. He's still untrained, unintelligent, and too naïve and idealistic. I'm sure he wouldn't purposefully do something to put me in danger, but he'll do it on accident."

"He didn't tell Fyers about Yao Fei when he was being tortured," Slade argued. "And considering it was Billy doing it, he had to be in an incredible amount of pain and he still kept his mouth shut."

"Because Yao Fei tried to save him," she snapped back. "He felt like he owed him a debt. Just because he did it for one person doesn't mean that he'll do it for anyone else."

Striding forward to stand toe-to-toe with her, Slade stated, "I've spent more time with him than you have, and I think he can be trusted. You may not trust or even like him, but I would hope you had a little more faith in me and my judgement."

Hermione tilted her head back so that she could see his expression better and admitted, "I do trust you, Slade. But be honest: do you really think he won't do anything either accidentally or on purpose to expose my existence? And do you really think he's not going to suspect something if I start staying with you but refuse to bring all of my supplies? If I go sneaking off for hours on end and refuse to let either of you come with me or even properly explain what I'm doing? Because, without knowing about magic, both of those things are going to seem incredibly suspicious."

"I think you're overestimating how observant he is. And I think that I can help cover for you if that's really a concern."

"And what happens when Dolohov comes back?" she whispered. "Meeting with you like this is already dangerous enough, but at least I spend enough time alone that there's a fairly good chance you won't be around when he arrives. If I'm staying with you, then it's highly likely that he'll come to Lian Yu and immediately know that I'm not as alone as I'm supposed to be. You may have a chance at being to fight off Dolohov if he underestimates you and you move quick enough- at least, I hope you do- but will Oliver? And if he's as loyal as you say, can he be trusted to run if I tell him to?"

His eyes tightened, and Hermione knew she had him. It was easy for Slade to think of Dolohov as some abstract concept because all he knew about him was that Hermione had met him. To Slade, the Dark wizard might as well be nothing more than a character from a story for all that he was relevant. But for Hermione, Dolohov was an ever-present specter in her life, not always there, but never truly gone.

"I don't like it either, Slade," Hermione said when the older man remained silent, eyes wide and pleading. "I think things would be easier for both of us if we were able to stay together instead of you having to sneak around and keep my existence a secret. But secrets are what protect us- secrets are what keep us safe right now. So please, stop pushing."

"Fine," he groaned, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Just… stop making that face."

Hermione smiled, reaching out to grasp his arm and gently tugging it down. "Thank you. Now, do you want to discuss what I found out from Fyers and look over what I managed to grab now, or do you want to spar first?"

"Let's talk." Slade sat down in the grass and waited for her to settle across from him before asking, "You figure out who hired Fyers or anything about what was brought here by boat?"

"I managed to overhear a conversation Fyers had with his employer, but whoever he was talking to was clearly using some sort of voice disguiser. I don't think they were his actual employer though- their statements sounded rehearsed and scripted, even with the voice disguiser interfering with the normal pitch and registers you can hear in the average person's speech pattern. They didn't say anything about what they're planning on doing, but the employer did say that they were 'close to the end'. Whatever Fyers reason for being here is, it's going to take place soon. And I don't think it's a stretch to believe that, once the mission is completed, Fyers attention will turn to finding and killing you and Oliver."

"Can't risk leaving evidence of what he's done," Slade agreed.

"I keep coming back to the fact that Fyers has been here for two years," she commented, absentmindedly picking at the dead grass beside her. "That's a long time to spend here. They came to Lian Yu on purpose, supposedly because they needed Yao Fei for something. But I can't believe it took them all this time to find and capture him."

"It didn't. Yao Fei and I were locked up together in Fyers camp- we escaped together."

Looking up, Hermione asked, "Then why weren't they able to accomplish their mission earlier? If they had Yao Fei, then why isn't this over? The only logical explanation is that whatever the target is, it's specific. They're not randomly here to cause destruction, they have a precise idea in mind. But what could they do from here? I saw the maps in Fyers camp, I know Lian Yu isn't near anything. And it has to be originating from here since they didn't drag Yao Fei off the island, and something is being shipped here. They also brought someone here to ensure Yao Fei's cooperation. You're more knowledgeable about things like this than I am, Slade- what do you think Fyers is doing?"

"I have no idea," he admitted, clearly frustrated. "A.S.I.S. was trying to figure that out when they sent Billy and I here to find Yao Fei. But none of their theories would explain why Fyers has been here for such a long period of time."

Hermione let her head fall back and sighed up at the sky. "Whoever is behind this must be paying Fyers an extremely large amount of money, right? I can't imagine he would agree to stay cooped up on this island with only his men for company unless the reward greatly outweighed his discomfort. And if Oliver is rich, then I'm sure he tried to bargain with Fyers that his family would be willing to pay for his safe return. Is his family rich or wealthy?"

"They're billionaires."

"So, they're wealthy. Which means they might have been willing to pay possibly tens of millions to Fyers if he delivered Oliver home. But Fyers didn't even seem to consider the idea. I can't begin to imagine how much Fyers stands to make if the idea of easily making that much money doing something as simple as bringing some kid to the mainland wasn't worth a second thought."

Slade stiffened. "You're right. Which means that this is likely a government contract."

Tilting her head forward to look at him, Hermione said, "I really hope you're wrong. Because, if a government is behind this, it would have to be a major player like Russia, America, or Korea. Which means that even if we stop Fyers, we may still be in danger because they might send more people out here to tie up loose ends."

She could tell by the look in his eyes that she had surprised him and that, once again, Slade was editing whatever judgements he'd made about her previously. "You're not including China in that list?"

"This is a covert operation taking place on an abandoned Chinese island and involves the coercion of a Chinese citizen," Hermione stated dryly. "Clearly, whatever happens is either going to be against China, or going to be pinned on them. Either way, they're not behind this."

He slowly nodded. "What exactly is it that you did before Dolohov grabbed you?" he questioned, shifting to the left and straightening his legs out in front of him before slowly lowering himself onto his back, hands behind his head.

Hermione stared at in confusion. "I… research, mostly. My movements were severely limited because of Dolohov, which meant I couldn't really work a conventional job. I'm fortunate enough to have several Mastery's though, so I was able to get by assisting others with research projects they were working on from the safety of my own home. That, and I have a rather wealthy friend who would have gladly signed over the contents of his entire bank accounts if it would have kept me from going outside."

Harry had offered to do just that several times the past few years if Hermione would agree to go into protective custody. She had accused him of trying to buy her freedom away from her. Ginny had said during their last argument about it that he was trying to buy her pride, not her freedom, and that she should take the money because, considering she was basically under house arrest anyway, neither were worth all that much at this point, now were they?

"What kind of research?"

"Does it matter? What are you doing?! Why are you lying there?"

Lips quirking up slightly, Slade ordered, "Lie down and try to relax."

She didn't move. "Why?"

"Because I told Oliver I would be gone for several hours and you're not in any shape to fight right now. You're going to rest and I'm going to keep watch."

Her breath caught in her throat. That was an unexpected offer, and Hermione wasn't sure what to say. "What of mine is both an asset and a liability?"

Slade audibly sighed. "Your size. And your paranoia." Turning his head to meet her gaze, he said, "If you're not willing to join Oliver and I, then this is the best I can do. I told you that I'd teach you how to fight, and I can't do that if you're so tired you're barely able see straight. Rest."

Hermione slowly relaxed back onto the grass, keeping their eyes locked. "Careful, Slade," she warned quietly, heartbeat loud in her ears. "If you keep being kind, I'm going to start worrying that you're getting attached."

"Why? You know how I feel about attachments."

"And you know how I feel about kindness." She knew she shouldn't accept his offer but she was so tired. It was getting harder and harder to force her eyelids open every time she blinked.

"You think I'm being weak right now?"

"No," she yawned, automatically turning to curl up on her side with her head pillowed on her arm. "I am."

She fell asleep before she could hear his response or warn him about her nightmares.

Slade was surprised by how easily Hermione gave in. He'd honestly expected her to fight him more; proof that she really was exhausted. The fact that she also fell asleep so quickly despite his presence also proved how much she trusted him. Slade didn't know how to feel about that.

He really hadn't given too much thought to what kind of condition Hermione would be in when she got back from checking on Fyers, but he knew he wouldn't have guessed she'd be like this.

It wasn't just the bags under her eyes. Before, she was always covered from neck to toe, just like he was. When she came striding into the clearing without her jacket and he was able to actually see her for the first time, Slade was concerned by how thin and pale she was. He had been aware of her slimmer figure- it wasn't something he could have missed considering how often he came into physical contact with her. But this was more than that. The way she looked, this had to have been going on for a while now and Hermione had managed to keep it hidden from him. The fact that she been able to improve so rapidly in their training despite dealing with what seemed to be limited amounts of food and rest… Christ, Slade really wanted to see what Hermione would be like once she was operating at her best.

She shifted in her sleep, legs curling up towards her chest. Slade wondered if she was cold without her jacket, even with her long-sleeved shirt. It was slowly warming up on the island, but winter was still holding strong. Glancing up at the sky, Slade knew that the sun would be shining directly over the clearing soon, so she'd probably be fine. And he was pretty sure her magic automatically worked to provide some measure of protection from the elements, wand or no wand. But also, if she got cold, she could wake up and put her damn jacket on.

Slade glared at Hermione's still form. Every time they met, he ended up having to reevaluate his opinion of her.

His career- his life- depended on being able to look at someone and anticipate what they were going to do and how they were going to react. When he had tied up Oliver and informed him that he was too much of a liability to leave alive, Slade had been trying to see if there was any kind of a fighter hidden beneath that pathetically weak, shaking exterior. If he'd really planned on just killing the kid, he wouldn't have bothered putting on a show. But he knew that there had to be more to the boy than he'd seen. After all, Yao Fei wouldn't have sent him someone absolutely useless.

Slade still wasn't entirely sure why he had left Hermione alive after their first conversation. It would have been smarter to kill her. If one of his men had risked an operation the way he had with her, Slade would have ripped into them before sending them back to basic training. But there was something about Hermione that had grabbed his attention during that first conversation.

If Slade had to put a name to it, then it he would say it was her resolve. Even as she'd stood there with a blade against her throat, she hadn't hesitated to fight with him. She'd tossed logical arguments at him with ease, and she hadn't let him intimidate her. It was as though she had made a decision about how to handle him as she climbed down that tree with her back towards him and, no matter how it turned out, she would do her best to see it through. Hermione had been stupidly brave, so Slade had let her live.

And then she had come to him days later with a handful of pills and potions and a proposition. Teach me how to fight.

It had honestly been the last thing he'd expected to come out her mouth. The discussions of magic and wands and dark wizards- none of that had caught him off guard. Slade knew what the Wizarding World was like, had worked with several magical beings during his time with A.S.I.S. and the war in Britain that took place less than a decade ago was something everyone still liked to talk about. To learn that a slip of a girl like Hermione had been involved in the fighting was… upsetting, but not surprising. From what he'd heard, the British Wizarding community was trash that cared too much about blood and not enough about skills and intelligence. The Australian Wizarding community was obnoxiously confident in how much more advanced they were than Britain. But not a single wizard he'd ever encountered in Australia had known how to fight, or even asked to be trained. It apparently just wasn't done.

But Hermione did. Dolohov had left her on this island with no wand and no allies and Hermione had managed to survive alone for almost a year. Then, after she'd met him, she'd decided to take a risk.

I want a chance, she'd begged. I want a chance to escape Dolohov that doesn't involve me slitting my own throat.

She was desperate- he could see it in her eyes. Hermione knew that the only acceptable options left to her was either finding a way to kill Dolohov or killing herself so that he couldn't take her. So, Slade had decided to give her a chance, but he wasn't ashamed to admit that he hadn't expected much from her.

When they'd first begun training, Slade had fully believed that Hermione was going to do as poorly as Oliver did. She might have been more familiar with fighting than the kid was, but she was also a witch and, based on his experiences, magical people were shit at doing things that didn't require magic. And then she'd laughed when he'd first put her on her back.

That fire he'd seen right then- that resolve- drew him in and he knew then that working with Hermione was going to be nothing like training Oliver. The kid still avoided training for the most part and Slade had to nearly drag him out of the fuselage to get him to do it. Hermione was the opposite. So eager to fight and so frustrated when they had to take days off because of Oliver. She never said anything, but he could see it in her eyes when he told her. Hermione knew just how valuable every second was between one fight and the next, and she didn't like feeling like she was wasting any. Especially since she had made a goal for herself to get as much training as possible before Dolohov returned.

That resolve was etched into everything she did. It reminded him of his own when he was first starting out.

They continued to lay on the ground, Hermione sound asleep and Slade lost in thought, as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky. Slade normally hated staying still outside of a mission, but it felt surprisingly peaceful. It almost reminded him of camping with Joe.

Fuck, he really missed his kid. Slade wondered what Joe had been told happened to him. He wondered if Adeline had finally managed to poison his son against him.

No matter what it took, Slade was going to get off this island get back to him.

Minutes later, Slade heard Hermione sigh softly and glanced over to see her blinking slowly at him.

"About time," he grumbled, but there was no heat to it.

Hermione studied him quietly for a moment, her large brown eyes soft and a little hazy.

"Do you ever worry about how terrible we would smell to someone not on the island?"

Slade stared at her, struggling to process her question. What the fuck… "Yeah," he snorted, shaking his head. "It's at the top of the list of my priorities. After 'killing Fyers' but above 'getting the hell out of here'."

Shifting onto her back, Hermione stretched her arms over her head. "I figured. Appearances must be very important to you considering how neatly trimmed you keep your facial hair, despite the fact that the only people regularly seeing you are ones you couldn't care less about impressing."

Pressing his lips tightly together to try and hide the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, Slade retorted, "Long hair is a liability. In fact, maybe you should consider cutting yours."

Head snapping to the side, Hermione fixed him with a piercing glare. "If you come anywhere near my hair, Slade Wilson, I will disembowel you."

He chuckled. "Threats to your hair is what gets your attention?"

"Short hair is terrible," she complained, rolling over onto her stomach. "It looks fine while it's short and fine when it's longer but looks awful in the middle."

He glanced at the mess of curls that were slowly escaping from the band Hermione had tied them back with to frame her face. For not having access to a proper washroom in over a year, she didn't look too bad. He-

Slade sat up and climbed to his feet. "I have to get back before the kid starts getting curious," he explained, glancing down at Hermione, who stared up at him in confusion for a moment before her expression suddenly sharpened and she also slipped to her feet.

"Are we meeting tomorrow?" she asked neutrally.

"No, I need to work with Oliver."

Hermione's lips pursed slightly. "The last few days weren't enough?"

"My arm's finally back to normal, which means I can resume strength training with him," he answered. "And he still needs a lot of work. More than you."

If he thought appealing to her need to be the better student was going to work, the glare she sent him proved him wrong. But all she did was state, "Dead weight."

He snorted, pushing down a sliver of fond amusement. "So were you at first. Don't get cocky just because you're starting to improve."

"I was never dead weight!" Hermione argued, her annoyance finally slipping away. "I have always been at least slightly useful."

"Yeah, because of the cloak."

"I survived on this island alone for almost a year only using the cloak sparingly and not once was I ever caught by Fyers, or even slightly noticed. Even you can't make that claim."

"I crash landed on the island after Fyers took out my plane," Slade retorted with a smirk. "Hard to go unnoticed with that kind of entrance."

"Even if you had arrived on the island without being noticed, Fyers would have found you sooner rather than later," she told him, leaning in closer and eyes shining. "I don't know you if you've noticed, but you're very dramatic and a bit of an attention-seeker."

Slade couldn't help laughing. "You're going to regret that when we start training with bamboo rods."

"I highly doubt it."

Hermione knew that she would soon be losing the title of 'the Responsible Member' of the Golden Trio if she didn't stop acting like Harry, but when Slade had told her that they wouldn't be able to meet because he needed to work on training Oliver, Hermione couldn't resist donning the invisibility cloak and sneaking onto the plane to watch. She wanted to see if Slade trained Oliver the same way he trained her. That, and her ever-competitive streak that Slade enjoyed prodding at made her want to figure out who was more advanced, her or the American.

Slade was lounging shirtless on a box next to the entrance, and he'd glanced in her direction with a nearly imperceptible smile as she stepped inside. Hermione reached out to brush her cloak-covered hand lightly against his arm in greeting before moving to perch herself on a box near the front of the cabin.

Oliver was standing on the opposite side of the cabin, beneath a black bar hanging in the air a meter or so above his head. She watched as he took a breath and then jumped up to grab the bar, and slowly pulled his body until his chin went above the bar. He lowered himself down before doing it again, letting out a loud grunt this time, and she could see that his arms were shaking. Hermione couldn't judge him for struggling though because she knew she would be doing just as poorly if it were her up there. She was lucky that she and Slade couldn't train in the plane, since he would definitely have made her perform the same exercises as Oliver if he could.

After the fourth pullup, Oliver only managed to drag his body half-way up before his grip slipped and he landed in a crouch.

"Four," Slade stated flatly, holding up four gloved fingers.

"Well, I'm more of a runner," Oliver sighed.

Hermione bit down hard on her lower lip to smother her laughter. From what she'd seen, Oliver wasn't anywhere close to being a runner- he stumbled so often it was a miracle he was able to keep his feet under him for longer than ten minutes.

Slade stood up and strode over, jumping up to grab the bar and pulling himself up with ease, legs straightened to be parallel to the floor. She watched the way the muscles in back and arms rippled as he moved with wide eyes, suddenly glad that Slade didn't do any of their training sessions shirtless because she would have completely embarrassed herself by now. Well, embarrassed herself more.

Oliver was also watching Slade. "Why the sudden desire to work out?"

"What else is there to do?" Slade grunted, voice strained as he continued moving up and down at a steady pace.

"Well, we can try to think of another way off the island," Oliver offered.

"There is no other way," the dark-haired man snapped. "If there was, I would have found it."

"We can't just sit here and wait for Fyers to come and kill us," the boy stated, voice rising in pitch and Hermione winced. Merlin, that was an annoying sound. Did he often speak like that?

Dropping back down, Slade turned to look at Oliver and the glint in his eyes made Hermione grin in anticipation.

"I did have one idea," he told the boy, walking towards him. "If you go into the forest and gather as much bamboo as you can find…"

"Yeah?" Oliver asked, leaning in.

"We can build ourselves a boat, like they did on 'Gilligan's Island'," Slade finished with feigned enthusiasm. Oliver glowered at him, but Hermione silently giggled at both Slade's tone and expression.

Oliver turned away from Slade, and the older man looked over at Hermione and smirked.

Spotting something in the corner of the cabin, Oliver hurried to kneel beside a cart.

"That's broken," Slade told him, as the boy pick up what Hermione thought was a radio microphone and began rapidly pressing buttons. "It got busted during the crash."

"Did you try to get it to work?" Oliver demanded as Slade moved to stand in front of Hermione, fiddling with his black gloves.

Slade wrinkled his nose. "I'm better at pulling things apart."

Hermione kicked Slade's ankle lightly, enjoying the way he jumped slightly before mock-glaring at her. She did it again in a different spot this time, and he stared down at the floor, seemingly trying to figure out where her feet were.

Moving around to kneel behind the cart, Oliver announced, "My father was a pilot and he used to do his own maintenance."

"So you're hoping aircraft maintenance is genetic?" Slade asked, glancing over his shoulder for a moment before turning back and quickly lunging forward to grab Hermione ankle right before she could kick him again.

She squeaked softly in surprise and he grinned, tugging on her leg lightly before letting go and strolling back towards Oliver, who was explaining how he used to help his father with their plane and was apparently 'pretty good at it'. "So maybe I can make the radio work," Oliver concluded.

"You should be training," Slade stated firmly, walking back to the bar and resuming his pullups, "for the inevitable fight that's looming."

"I think I have a better chance of making the radio work," he muttered, and Hermione took that to mean that his training wasn't going well. Which meant she was probably more advanced than he was now, and she felt a little smug. While Slade had implied just that the day before, she appreciated the confirmation.

Oliver also hadn't seemed to notice her presence at all which, while not surprising, was a little disappointing. She hadn't moved around much though, so perhaps she was expecting too much of him.

Standing up, Hermione drifted closer to where Slade was and walked around so that she was standing in front of him. He raised an eyebrow at her but continued with his workout. Despite knowing it was pointless, Hermione gave him the glare that had always gotten one of the boys to jump up and do what she wanted. Slade, of course, didn't react; Hermione was rather sure that, even if he could see it, he wouldn't have reacted anyway.

Sweat was slowly starting to drop down his face and torso, though he didn't appear all that strained by the exercise. The glare fell from her face as she silently watched Slade. Now that she was closer, she could see the thin scars covering his arms and torso and the way his well-defined abdominal muscles stood out. She'd mostly been teasing when she had called Slade 'pretty' before but now… pretty was still not the best adjective to describe him since his looks were a little too rugged, but it also wasn't the wrong adjective.

Training was going to be so much worse now that she knew what was hiding beneath all that gear. She remembered that he hadn't been wearing much when she'd first come to see him after his fight at Fyers camp, but she'd been too distracted by his infected wound to properly take in… everything.

Slade abruptly dropped down to the ground and strode over to where his clothes were bundled on top of a box. "Going out for a run," he called to Oliver, who seemed too distracted to respond.

After pulling on a black singlet, his camouflage jacket, and his bulletproof vest, Slade made his way out of the plane with Hermione right on his heels. As soon as they were out earshot, she asked, "Are you actually wanting to go for a run, or did you just want an excuse to leave?"

"Figured you'd like to take the opportunity to get a bit of sparring in while the kid is busy," he answered, coming to a stop once they were in the forest and turning to face her.

Hermione pulled off the cloak, folding it over her arm. "You know me so well."

He smirked. "Yeah, I do." Then, "So, did you enjoy the show?"

She instantly turned bright red and he laughed. "I told you before- I can always feel when you're watching me. Especially when it's that intently. You almost got me feeling self-conscious."

Opening and closing her mouth for a moment as she tried to figure out how to respond, Hermione finally chose to pull her left leg back and slam the toe of her boot as hard as she could in the back of Slade's left knee, sending him crashing into the ground, before turning and flouncing away.

His laughter echoed behind her as she left.

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