Thanks to everyone who stuck it out with me. I appreciate all of your comments and especially the great help from C. Hope all is well.

Dixon watched Sark walk across the warehouse in his sharp, expensive suit, a briefcase in his left hand. Sark set the briefcase on top of the table between him and Dixon and popped the lid open. A twisted little smile crossed his lips and Dixon licked his to fend off his nerves.

"It's dangerous to have meetings like this Sark."

"Oh, I don't think so. It's not exactly like anyone will turn you in." To further explain, Sark reached in the case and pulled out a folder, tossed it to Dixon, and took a seat across from him, the smile growing bigger.

Opening the packet, he bit his tongue at the sight of the images. Sydney, laying face down, blood pooling from the wound on the back of her head. Nadia, purple and black bruises around her small neck. Vaughn, a bullet hole in his forehead. He stopped. He couldn't look at anymore. "So the task has been completed. Where are my children?"

"They are with an associate. Don't worry; you'll get them back after you get rid of the evidence."

"What? Weiss?"

"Yes. He's a loose end that needs to be dealt with."

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"True. But, you see, I hold all the aces."

"For instance, how you came by these pictures."

"Yes. Part of the programming built in for Ms. Santos carried over to Mr. Weiss."

"You knew that Nadia wasn't infected?"

"Yes. Grant it, you did a good job of covering however, not well enough. Lucky for you Mr. Weiss responded as he did. Lucky for your children. The programming involved loading the evidence onto a server in San Diego. I received them this morning."

"So, I get rid of Weiss and I get my kids?"

"Yes. I promise."

"Your promises mean nothing to me."

"Much like your promise to not sabotage the actions against Ms. Santos? Tell me, when did you break her gas mask as opposed to removing the filter?"

"What?"

"You had to know that Mr. Weiss would rather save his love than his own life. Much like you and your children. So you made it so they knew the mask was faulty."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You had to know, or at least think, that if Mr. Weiss was infected and not Ms. Santos, you had a greater chance of finding a solution to your problem. But then there was that little counter-measure."

"About that, could you please disarm it?"

Sark took out a small remote control and pushed a button. "Clever device, don't you agree? To think, a small transceiver placed just so in your neck, set to explode if you broke the rules, kept you from seeking the help of your dear friends. It's a shame, really. I rather enjoyed going to battle with Sydney."

"Don't talk about her!"

"My, my, new found courage. Complete your task; you'll receive your children. Ciao."

Dixon waited until the last of Sark's footsteps could be heard before he hung his head and wept over the pictures of his murdered colleagues. How had it happened? How could he let it happen?

A shot rang out.

Eric connected his elbow with Vaughn's chin, knocking him back on the coffee table. The bullet had screamed by his ear, leaving an intense ringing and blurring his vision.

"Agent Vaughn, don't!" Marshall warned, helping him sit up. "Remember Mr. Bristow? Agent Weiss has almost a superhuman reaction when fully affected by the toxin. Imagine Mr. Bristow's arm as your neck."

"Point taken Marshall," Vaughn said, popping his jaw, trying to get the ringing to stop.

John came running inside at the gunshot and was dumbfounded at the sight.

"Eric, what are you doing? You love that woman!"

Eric's chin began to quiver. He closed his eyes and raised his face to the ceiling. Whether he was thinking about killing them or thinking about what his brother had said, they didn't know. They just watched him. And then, he opened his eyes and looked back at Nadia. "That's. True. Nadia, I love you," he said as if he had a sudden revelation. Maybe the explosion from the gun woke him up. Maybe it had grown to be too much for him and something just popped in his brain. Whatever the reason, he loosened his grip around her throat and slipped his hand to the back of her neck. "Nadia, what have I done?"

"Eric?" she asked incredulous.

He pressed closer to her but pulled back as if frightened. He threw the gun out of his hand as if it burned him but never took his gaze from her. There were those eyes he was missing, the sweet lips, the hair—perfect even when not dripping wet. This was his saint, the one who saved him. The one who would always save him. He leaned forward again and drew her to him, meeting his lips with hers. It was sweeter than words.

"Nadia," he said breathless.

"Eric, I've missed you."

"Me too. And you've been right here in front of me. How could I not see it?"

"Sometimes, we all fall into a haze. Plus, it wasn't exactly your fault."

Eric stood up and grinding his teeth agreed, "You're right. It was Sark's."

Nadia nodded her head vigorously, "Do you remember who his partner is?"

Eric narrowed his eyes as if to get a better focus on things. It was still a haze in his brain but he was recalling bits and pieces. The first time he met Vaughn, the first time he heard about Marshall and then met the crazy guy. Coming face to face with Sloane. Being shot by Derevko. Falling head over heels for Nadia. And then he remembered the source of his problems. "Dixon. It was Dixon. He's Sark's partner. But there's more. Sark has his kids."

Eric bent forward and rested his head on the steering wheel of the non-descript van. His head had been exploding for the past three days since he had gotten his memory back. He almost preferred being in the dark to the pain. But, he had to admit that being back with Nadia was far greater than any headache. Especially rediscovering the way she kissed.

"Agent Weiss?" Marshall asked timidly.

"Marshall, unless your voice is laced with narcotics and will sooth my head, I don't want to hear you speak."

"I'm—sorry, I know you said that earlier, but I recently got some new information and thought, well, given your situation, you'd like to hear but I understand you want some peace and quiet so you won't hear a word from me. Not a peep."

"Marshall, you have a minute. That's how long I'll listen to you before I hurt you. Deal?"

"Of course. Is that minute starting now? Or when you finished?"

"Marshall," Weiss hissed.

"Okay. Sorry. I found out from the lab that you had, well still have, an incredibly high level of endorphins coursing through your body. And your adrenaline levels weren't even chartable."

"Endorphins?"

"Yeah, you know the things that are released during exercise and give you that buzz like your Superman? It's called a runner's high sometimes."

"Yeah, I know that. How did they fix me?"

"Well, you can just thank your little pituitary gland for that. Hey—little fella, thanks for the boost."

"Marshall!"

"Right. Well, endorphins are closely related to pain and emotions, or at least affect them. There's really three types of endorphins. There's beta en--."

"Ten seconds, Flinkman."

"Let's just say your body went to battle, using little endorphins soldiers, with that funk that took over and won."

"Good to know."

They returned to a stuffy silence, the only sound coming from Marshall taping his fingers against his knee.

"Mr. Weiss, it was a good thing you remembered about that contact information. What was it like talking to Mr. Sark? I mean, I've talked to him once, on the phone, to defuse a bomb that one time but I wasn't all cool like you. I mean, you just dialed the number and were just like, 'hey, Sark, what's going down?' You were very composed. Plus, you covered your tracks for being the one that was infected. Very suave."

"Are you still talking Marshall?"

"I—was just trying to, you know, pay you a compliment."

Eric rolled his forehead against the steering wheel to facilitate looking at Marshall. Marshall really wasn't paid the respect he deserved. He was genius, quirky, but still one of the better friends Eric had. "Marshall, I didn't thank you for going up to bat for me. It took a lot of courage to be the first to be reinserted into my life. You really are a great friend. Thanks."

"Your—welcome," Marshall responded, letting the corners of his mouth curl. He busied himself with his laptop to hide his embarrassment. "You know I—shh."

"I wasn't talking."

"No shh! It's about to go down."

Dixon wiped the heel of his hand against his cheeks as he heard the resonating tone of shoes against the unforgiving concrete. Sark must need something else. Perhaps a pound of flesh.

"Sark, I," the words fell heavy out of his mouth as he looked at his new companion.

"What's wrong, Dixon? Betrayal leave your mouth dry?"

"Syd! The pictures! I thought you were dead."

Sydney rubbed the back of her head where a generous sized bump was located. "I obviously am not. Although, that's the way you wanted it, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, Sydney."

"Sark took your kids before and you came to me. Why didn't you this time?"

"I couldn't. I had to do what I had to do."

"You didn't have to do anything. You're working with Sark. You hate him!"

"Yes, but I was working with Sloane as well. One evil for another. Think about it. I had to Sydney for my kids. I had to make Sark believe I was with him so he'd give them back. He put a tracker on me to know where I was at all times; know what I was saying, doing. I was trying to figure out a plan. That's why I broke Nadia's mask. She didn't know the filters weren't in. I thought Weiss would protect her and not get harmed himself."

"You thought wrong."

"I thought I could control him. The situation. Keep him away from you guys until I could figure out something. Syd, they're my kids. I already lost Diane. It would be the choice between Nadia and Jack or Vaughn. Could you choose?"

"I'd figure out a way not to have to."

"Then I'm not as strong as you. But now, I'm asking for your help. Will you help me get my kids back?"

More footsteps approached and Dixon watched, speechless, as Nadia walked towards him, his children in tow. "Steven! Robin!" said so softly that he thought they might disappear if he said them too loud. They ran to him, smiles growing.

Nadia stuck her hands into her pockets and headed back outside. It was nice to know that Dixon had his children back but the cost was almost far too great. She walked into the gloomy day, closing her jacket to the hazy chill, and looked for Eric. She needed some normalcy and to just be with him. Turning the corner she found him leaning against the van, his head resting in his hands. He wasn't supposed to leave the van.

Something must be wrong.

All thoughts coursed through her mind as she sprinted to his side. The strongest of which being that he had a relapse and she'd find Marshall dead somewhere. So much for normalcy. She stopped just next to him and placed a comforting hand on his back.

"Eric? Where's Marshall?"

"Marshall?"

Nadia looked to the back of the van and saw two legs splayed out on the ground. Her worst nightmare was being realized. And then Marshall popped his head from around the back of the van. "Nadia, you should see what he did to Mr. Sark."

She turned to Eric and rubbed his back, relief flooding her. "Feel better?"

"Yeah. Sark looks like I feel."

"Well good."

She walked around the vehicle and looked down at Sark's bloodied face. His eyes were swollen and he had a gash on his right cheek.

"Aren't you tired of kidnapping those poor children?"

"Nah. It's good sport."

"You disgust me. But you probably take pleasure in that."

"I enjoy any banter with you. There is something about you and your sister that I just cannot seem to get enough of."

Eric joined them. "I know what you mean," he said, kissing Nadia's cheek. "But, lucky for Vaughn and me, they can't seem to get enough of us either. You'll have a long time to think about that fact in your cell for the rest of your life, too."

Shaking his head in disgust and pity, Eric wrapped his arm around Nadia and walked back to the side of the van. He opened the side door and slid onto the bench seat; Nadia followed. Closing the door, Nadia welcomed the butterflies that still filled her stomach when she and Weiss were alone. They sat in silence, Nadia completely happy and not wanting to upset the peace they'd finally reached. Apparently, Eric had other ideas.

"So, are we done," he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"You and me are finished," he stated.

Nadia had a sinking feeling. "Wait. I don't understand."

He enjoyed the shyness that Nadia seemed to still feel around him. It suggested an innocence in her that could never be lost. That was just one of the things he fell in love with. Reaching across the bench, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight to his side. She fit perfectly there and he was content to sit like that, his cheek resting against her head. But he loved playing mind games with his girl. He rested his right hand on her hip and laced his left hand with hers. "What I mean is I think I asked you to marry me. Yet I don't see the rock on your finger. If you don't wanna wear it, I can totally hawk it and get, like, a big screen t.v. for it."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"I might. Where is it?"

She slid it out from its hiding place and turned it just so to catch the light and sparkle. Taking it as a cue, he unlatched the chain, slipped off the ring and gingerly placed it on the appropriate finger. He played with it, rotating it back and forth between his fingers, letting it twinkle. She tipped her head back and he let his lips be naturally pulled to hers. He was lost in her cuteness and hopes for the future and all she could think of was how she never wanted to lose him again. Moving his right hand to the back of her head, he shifted and wrapped his left arm around her. They were totally happy and had fully forgotten the rest of the world when the door slid open.

"Guys?"

"Vaughn, unless the van is on fire, leave us alone," Eric growled.

Chuckling, Vaughn replied, "I guess you deserve that. Just remember we've gotta transport Dixon's kids so keep it G-rated."

"Thanks," Eric said, kissing her again. "I'll keep that in mind. Now get out of here."

The door closed once more and Eric rested his forehead against hers. "Maybe this isn't the best place for our middle school antics. I mean, I don't want to sound like a girl but my head hurts and we're technically at work. Don't get me wrong, I love kissing you--."

"Then return to your antics."

Eric grinned revealing the dimple in his cheek. "Yes ma'am."

"Where do we go from here, Syd?"

"I don't know Dixon. We've been through so much together, I don't know if we'll get through this."

"Can we try?"

"I don't think we can. You've put my in a retched spot. If I have to choose between you and my sister, I'm going to show you the same courtesy you showed us."

"I guess I've brought that on myself. All the good I've done, and it's all been erased. Do you think you'll ever find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Sydney shook her head. "Maybe, one day. If I ever forgive Sloane for what he's done to me you'll know that I've forgiven you. But until then, all we can do is begin the painful task of reassembling our friendship with the knowledge that I'll watch you more closely than Sloane."

"I guess that's all I can ask for."

Eric ran his hand from Nadia's shoulder to her neck and rubbed his thumb gently against her cheek as he kissed her again. There were just sometimes that were more important than pain. Especially love. When the van door opened again, Eric spoke out of the corner of his mouth, "I said get the hell outta here!"

"Agent Weiss, Nadia, I need to speak with you."

Sloane. Eric's heart stopped in his chest. He swallowed, trying to remove his stomach for his throat and return it to its right location. He vacated Nadia's personal space and allowed her to exit the van. Reluctantly, he followed, wiping at his mouth with his knuckles.

"Is everything okay, father?"

"Agent Weiss, I realize that you have worked with Marcus Dixon at the Rotunda and I understand that the two of you have developed a close relationship with Dixon during your time at APO, but Sydney, Jack, Marshall, and I have known him for quite a bit longer. The hurt for us goes much deeper. And since you two are the center of this dilemma, perhaps it would be best if you were out of the office during the interrogation process. It might help to keep everyone more level headed. And though it goes against my better judgment, Agent Weiss, take my daughter somewhere. And don't tell anyone where you are going. You make her happy and that makes me happy." He pointed to his personal car behind them and indicated that it would take them anywhere they wanted to go.

Eric voiced his appreciation and guided Nadia in the direction of the sedan. "Why do I feel like a high school boy who's been given carte blanche with his girlfriend's father's car? And his daughter for that matter?"

"That's what you focus on? Where should we go? Paris? Rome? Kuala Lumpur?"

"I already have something in mind."

"Where?"

"Why ruin the surprise?"

"Where?"

"I forget."

"Don't you dare pull those tricks with me!"

"But that's what I do best."

"Why do I have a sinking feeling that something's going to happen?" Eric looked back at the van, saw Sydney and Vaughn escorting Dixon out at his own free will, saw Marshall acting relatively tough with the bound Sark.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. But I feel inacabado>."

"Well, you can forget all your troubles when we're—on the beach?"

"Good try but I'm not telling." He opened the back door and climbed in after her. The heavens finally opened and oversized rain drops spattered against the windows mixing with the dust and dirt already deposited there. As the car drove by, Nadia held up a departing hand to the glass to Sydney who responded with a half grin. The sedan drove on, leaving the scene behind.

Sloane pursed his lips as he watched the fleeting taillights. That was a problem he'd have to deal with later. But, for now, he had to worry with keeping his tracks covered. There were just too many secrets that he couldn't allow escape.

For now.

The end.

>inacabado—unfinished