chapter three: facing the past

Kilmer woke to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He answered it then slipped out of the room, unwilling to wake Frankie.

"Kilmer."

"John?" It was Bella. She sounded upset and Kilmer was instantly concerned.

"Yes. What is it? What's wrong?"

There was sniffling from the other side of the line. "I forgot to say happy birthday to you last night."

Kilmer felt himself relax. He and Bella shared a birthday. Because of Bella's party, he and Frankie had planned a dinner later that week. "Is that all?"

"Yeah, but friends aren't s'posed to forget their friend's birthdays."

Kilmer sat on the couch, smiling now. "Bella, honey, I know you didn't really forget. I bet you were just caught up in all the excitement, is that it?"

"Yeah." She still sounded sad. "But I never got you anything."

"Tell you what, let me check with your parents, and you can come for . . ." He trailed off. What did kids enjoy doing anyway? "We'll go for ice cream or something. You, me and Frankie. That can be your present to me, okay?"

She was silent for a while. "Okay. What did Frankie get you?"

"She said she'd marry me." Kilmer looked down at his wedding ring.

Bella gave a delighted squeal. "I knew it! I knew she loved you!"

At times like these, Bella sounded older than she really was. Kilmer supposed it was a result of all she'd gone through in her short life. Facing death tended to force someone to grow up in a hurry.

"Look, Bella, I have to go. I've got to be at work pretty soon."

"So you're not mad at me?"

"Of course not. I could never be mad at you."

"Okay." She sounded relieved. "G'bye, John. Say hi to Frankie for me."

"I will. Bye, Bella." He hung up and stood to return to the bedroom. Frankie was still fast asleep, a tangle of arms and legs and sheets. She looked so peaceful that he was reluctant to disturb her, but they would be late for work if he didn't.

Quietly crossing to the bed, he bent down and placed a tender kiss on her bare shoulder. She smiled lazily and stretched, cat-like. Kilmer's breath caught in his throat and he reached out to touch her.

It wouldn't be the end of the world if they were just a little bit late.

Angel refused to believe she was wrong about Kilmer, especially after she'd seen his interaction with Bella and the way he looked at Frankie. The evidence just didn't fit. Yes, there were the emails Kilmer had allegedly sent Fasil, and now there was proof that money had been transferred from an account in Kilmer's name . . . but there was no way Kilmer would do anything to endanger Frankie. Angel was willing to bet her career on that.

She was due to check in with McGarry and update him on her progress. If she did, there was only one course of action McGarry could take. The physical evidence pointed to Kilmer's guilt. Only Angel's gut said that was wrong.

But the government liked hard evidence, not feelings.

Angel rubbed her eyes. She'd been staring at the computer screen for so long that she had a headache.

There had to be something on this mainframe, she thought.

She ran another search on Black Sun. Maybe this time she would see something she'd missed before.

Frankie was reading through Nathalie Argeneau's file when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, startled. "Oh, Colonel. Hi."

Atkins gestured for her to take a walk with him. They went upstairs until they reached an empty part of the hallway. "How are you doing, Frankie?"

"I'm good."

"Have you spoken to a counselor yet?"

"I'm fine."

"Frankie, you've been through a lot. I need to know that you're ready to be back here."

Frankie looked past Atkins. She took a deep breath then forced herself to meet his gaze. "I'm still working through a couple of things but I really am okay."

Atkins' brow was furrowed. He considered Frankie's words for a moment. "Okay enough to interrogate Sadiq Fasil?"

Something fluttered in Frankie's stomach at the mention of Fasil. She couldn't let Atkins see how it affected her – that would only prove his point that she needed to see someone – so she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Are you sure? I don't want to send you in if you can't handle it."

Frankie drew herself up to her full height. "Of course I can handle it."

Atkins still looked doubtful, but said, "Alright. You leave for Gitmo in the morning."

When Atkins left, Frankie reached out, touching the wall to steady herself. She'd known she would have to face Fasil one day but hadn't thought it would be so soon. Part of her was tempted to call Atkins back and tell him she couldn't do it, but another part of her told her it was something she needed to do.

Once she was sure she was in control of her emotions, she returned to the Vault. Tyler was at the conference table, making notes in one of the folders. Frankie sat down opposite him and reached for a file.

"How's it going, Frankie?"

She smiled. "Good. Thanks for asking."

Tyler shrugged, not making eye contact. He'd always been shy around women. Frankie thought it was a shame he was so caught up in his computer that he didn't have time for a social life.

Kilmer took the chair next to Frankie, handing her a cup of coffee. She smiled her thanks, her gaze holding his. Waking up with him this morning had felt so right, so natural. His knee brushed hers before his expression turned professional.

"What have you got?"

"Well," Tyler said, "we know Nathalie was in Madrid ten days ago but now it seems she's vanished again . . ."

Frankie forced herself to concentrate. Thinking about Nathalie Argeneau meant she wouldn't have to think about Sadiq Fasil.

Kilmer had decided to make dinner for Frankie at his apartment. She arrived shortly after seven, carrying an overnight bag and a bottle of red wine. Acting as though this was something she did all the time, she went to the bedroom to drop off the bag. She shrugged out of her jacket and left it on the bed before going into the living room.

"Won't be much longer," Kilmer called from the kitchen.

Frankie recognized the photo album on the couch as the one containing their honeymoon photos. So this is where it was, she thought. She sat down and flipped through the album, smiling at the happy memories it provoked.

A loose photograph fluttered to the floor, landing face down. Frankie picked it up and turned it over, then froze. It was a picture of her, pregnant. Kilmer had his hand on her belly. Both of them were grinning. They'd been so excited about the baby.

Frankie realized that she was finally able to think of Amy without wanting to cry. She wasn't sure how that made her feel.

Kilmer put his hand on her shoulder. She started, too lost in thought to have heard his approach. He saw the photo and came around the couch to sit next to her. "Are you okay?"

Frankie tucked the photo back in the album. She smiled. "You know what? I think I am."

Kilmer took the album and set it on the floor. He put his arm around Frankie. His other hand moved to her stomach. He slipped it under her shirt and let his fingers stroke her skin. Neither of them said anything for a while.

"I've been thinking," Frankie said, "it's silly to have two apartments."

"Where do you want to live? I don't mind moving." Kilmer's touch was becoming less comforting and more sensual.

"Neither do I."

"Maybe we should look for a new place." Kilmer's hand moved higher, his fingertips brushing Frankie's ribcage. "It's the most sensible option."

"Hmm . . . John, something's burning."

He sprang from the couch, rushing to the kitchen. Frankie followed and sat on the counter, watching as he tried to save the pasta. She crossed her legs, loving the domesticity of the scene. She'd missed this. She'd missed him.

"I'm going to Gitmo tomorrow."

"Atkins said so. Who're you going to interview?"

She waited until he put the pot down before speaking. "Sadiq Fasil."

"What?"

"John, I have to do this."

He crossed to her, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her close. "Frankie, he tried to kill you."

"I know." She cupped his face in her palms and kissed him. "It'll be okay."

"I still don't like it."

"Nothing's going to happen."

"I should go with you."

Frankie pulled back. "John, how many times have I been to Gitmo by myself?"

He shrugged. "Dozens."

"I'll be fine." She hopped off the counter to give him a proper hug. "I'll be back tomorrow night."

He said nothing, but held her tighter.