Authors Note: Thanks to my reviewers!
Thanks to Scarlett for beta-ing.

"Where to, Sands?" Cerise asked softly.

"You're pick, Red,"he replied simply.

Cerise glanced at him, tempted to ask if he was alright, but decided she would do so later, already knowing the answer. She drove in silence, looking for somewhere simple. She found it an hour and a half later. She parked outside the hotel and turned in her seat to look at Charlie.

"Let me guess..." he muttered. "Go check us in..."

"You got it luv," Cerise replied, slipping him some money.

"Name I use?" he asked, looking at her.

Cerise thought for a moment, then replied. "Corso."

Charlie frowned, but nodded and got out, glad to get away from El. Sands turned towards her, eyebrow raised. "Corso? Someone, I should know about?"

Cerise shook her head. "Never mind about that."

"Old boyfriend?" Sands pressed.

"If he was?" she asked back.

Sands just kept facing her, grinning. She had the feeling she'd have to 'fess up later. El was staring at them, questionably and Cerise noted his look. All things considered, Sands hadn't told El that he was involved with Cerise. or that he was Lily's father. She had a feeling that information would make things interesting, to say the least.

Charlie came back with their room keys. "I wasn't really sure how many rooms to get, so I got three..." he muttered, handing the keys to Cerise. He liked doing business with her, more then Sands.

Cerise frowned. That might be a bad idea. She wasn't sure if El would make a run for it or not. Here's to hoping he wouldn't.

"That's fine, whelp." Sands replied, getting out. He walked to the back of the car and grabbed his bag. "Let's go El," he said in a patronizing tone. El flipped him off and got out, waiting by the front of the car.

Cerise sighed. It was going to be hell stuck with all the bickering. She got out, getting her own bag from the backseat floorboard and followed Charlie inside, Sands a step behind her, El nearly at her side.

Sands hit the bed as soon as he heard Cerise close the door. He lay face down into the pillow and listened to Cerise moving around the room. When the silence got to be too much, Sands rolled over. "So who's Corso?"

Cerise rolled her eyes. "An old friend, from college." She said.

"Did you date him?" Sands pressed.

"Sheldon!"

"You dated him. You slept with him too, didn't you?"

Cerise groaned. He had the nasty habit of interrogating her at times. "You did," he said with a sort of satisfied smile.

"Will you stop it?! So what if I did! I was nineteen at the time!"

"What did he look like? Was he good in bed?"

Cerise grabbed the phone book off the desk and threw it at him. "Knock it off!"

"Touchy," he muttered, stretching out on his back. Silence sank in for another moment, before he asked. "Are you still in contact with him?"

"From time to time, yes!" she snapped. Sands held up his hands, palms out, showing truce.

Cerise sank into a chair by the window and stared out of it. Sands lay motionless on the bed, listening to her breathing. "This can't go on much longer..." She finally stated .

"You're telling me," Sands muttered, his hands behind his head. She sighed and Sands rolled over, to face her. "What's the matter, Cherry? Not got that fighting spirit ya once had?" he asked.

"Fuck you."

"You already have, more than ONCE." There was a satisfied grin on his face at that thought.

"I'm bloody glad you think this is all a game, Sheldon," she replied sharply.

"Never said that," he stated, getting the feeling that their tempers were going to get the better of them again. So he began detaching himself from his current emotions, lest he say something he'd regret again.

"No, but you're acting like it."

"Pray tell, how do you WANT me to act?" He cocked his head to the side as he sat up on the bed.

"Like you care," she snapped.

"If I didn't care, Cerise Stone, I wouldn't be here, right now!" That came out far darker then Sands had intended and he heard Cerise get up, with a stifled sob, and rush past him.

A moment later, he heard the bathroom door bang shut and the lock click. Sands sighed and sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, facing the window. He heard Cerise slamming the cabinets open and closed and got off the bed, moving towards the bathroom door. When it was quiet inside the small room, he rapped his knuckles on the door. "Cherry..." He got no answer out of her and tried the doorknob, finding it was indeed locked. He ran his thumb over the knob and was happy to find that it had a key hole. He reached into his back pocket and took out a leather wallet. Slipping it open he ran his fingers over the cold steel picks, feeling for the right one. When he found it, he slipped it out, sat it between his teeth, and put the wallet back in his back pocket.

He took the pick out of his mouth and stuck it in the lock, turning it a few times until he heard an satisfied click. "NO!" he heard her shriek, and felt her grab the knob.

"Cerise!" he yelled, putting his shoulder into the door. "Let me in!"

"NO!" she cried back.

Sands was distracted a moment, trying to concentrate on what the tone of her voice was... it was boarding on hysteria and desperation and Sands didn't understand it. "Cerise, open the door."

"No!" she cried again, this time it was mixed with sobs. He pushed with his shoulder, but the door wouldn't budge and he was finding it hard to believe that she was up against it by herself.

When he couldn't get in by shoving, he moved back a bit. He fought to keep his voice calm as possible. "Cerise, baby, open the door." Silence. He stepped closer to the door. "Baby..."

"I can't..." she weeped.

"Why not?" He asked gently.

"I can't..." she repeated.

Sands sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool wood. The minutes ticked by. She'd stopped sobbing. "Baby... please, OPEN the door..." Sands said, a hand on the knob. It was still unlocked but there was an unbearable weight against the door. There couldn't be anything in that bathroom she could have moved. She had to be sitting against it. "Don't make me..." He heard her crying. "Cherry... honey..." He pushed on the door. It started to budge, so he pushed harder.

"No!" She cried again, trying to lean against the door again, but by this time, she was too tired to put up much more of a fight.

So he shoved harder until he got it open enough to slip into the room. The shampoo bottle hit him in the face. Sands grabbed his sunglasses before they fell off, but was instantly pelted in the chest with something else. "Cerise!" he snapped, getting hit with another bottle. "Stop it!"

"Leave me alone!" she screamed. Sands put out a hand to grab her and felt the blade of a razor pass over his palm. He hissed and grabbed her wrist, jerking the razor from her hand and tossing it in the sink. She fought against him to get out of his grip and he grabbed her other hand. "What is wrong?!" he nearly cried.

"YOU! THIS! EVERYTHING!" she screamed, fighting to get free. She lost her balance, tumbling backwards and pulling Sands with her. They fell to the floor with a thud. Sands' sunglasses tumbled off and he heard them smack against the tub. His hold, however, didn't release her.

If anything, it tightened, when he heard her gasp, their faces only inches apart. She started trembling, as if it was the first time she'd ever seen him with out the sunglasses. Sands growled, his grip on her wrist's solid. "Cerise." he growled sternly. He felt her turn her face away, could hear her crying. "Look at me!" he commanded. When he knew she didn't, he grabbed her chin and jerked her head towards him. "Look at me," he said again, but a little more gently this time. "This is what it's cost me, Cerise." She whimpered. "It's cost me my eyes," he hissed bitterly. "But here I am, back in the country that caused me more grief than I have ever known. Why?! Because OUR daughter is out there!" He let go of her chin and ran his fingers over her cheek. "I came down here to fight for her... And I know you did as well, baby." He felt her relax some. "No one said it was easy, gorgeous, but we've got each other, to help us get through this," he whispered.

"What about you?" she asked.

"What about me? I still have no eyes," he replied, letting go of her other wrist. But neither moved for a long moment.

Then she pushed him over, grabbing the sunglasses as they turned. She lay on top of him, and put the sunglasses back on his face, kissing him lightly. "But you still got me," she replied.

Sands grinned slightly, arms on her waist. "Even if I shoot the cook?"

"Well," She drawled, matching his usual tone. "Only as long as you're restoring the balance..."

"Well, yeah, that's what I do," he said, cocking his head to the side. "I throw shapes. I set them up and I watch..." He trailed off, frowning.

"Watch them fall," she whispered in his ear. "You always have, you always will." Sands didn't reply, but he pulled her closer, holding her.

"Now are you going to throw anything more at me?" he asked her quietly.

She laughed softly, through the silent tears that had started again. "I'm sorry about that."

"You should be. Is it bleeding?" He held up the palm of his hand and felt her wince.

"And I'm sorry for THAT. No... but I can see the cut, so stay away from salt."

"No, I was going to go out and pour lemon juice on it," he replied sarcastically.

"Well you see, that's just the thing you'd do to get back at me!" she retorted. He stuck out his bottom lip in a mock pout.

She was about to say something else, when he tensed, and moved to sit up, shifting her off of him. At the same time, the bathroom door creaked open slowly. The gunshot cracked through the room, and Sands held the smoking pistol. El didn't move, standing in the doorway. Cerise sat against the sink.

"Yes?" Sands demanded angrily. He had the feeling he knew who it was, and how he'd missed hearing the door to the room open was beyond him.

"I thought I heard a fight," El replied, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, yeah, but it was a private fight, El Fuckmook!" Sands cocked the gun again.

"Whoa," El raised both hands, taking a step back.

"Sands," Cerise spoke calmly from her spot.

"Where do you think, Cerise, in the foot maybe?" Sands moved his gun to aim at El's left foot. El stopped moving, glancing at Cerise.

"Sands!" She raised her voice slightly.

"Or how 'bout the shoulder?"

"Sheldon!"

The shot went off before she could say or do anything more. El stumbled back, holding his shoulder. "Damn it, Sheldon!" Cerise cried, looking from El back to Sands, who was putting the gun away.

"Well at least I didn't shoot him in the hand," Sands replied, rolling to his feet. He pushed past El into the other room, walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Cerise asked in a frustrated tone.

"For a walk... unless you want me to use El for target practice here, I don't want to be in his presence for awhile,." Sands replied, jerking the door open. He was furious at himself for not hearing El enter the room in the first place. Had it been anyone else, it could have cost him... it could have cost him Cerise.

Cerise watched Sands slam the door shut before sinking against the door frame of the bathroom with a sigh. El glared at the door, uttering a curse. Cerise turned to him. "Here," she said softly. "I'll help you bandage that up."

El looked at her. He was about to say no, but it would give him a chance to question her. Cerise grabbed the first aid kit from her suitcase and El followed her over to a chair at the table. She helped him get his shirt off and started to clean the wound.

"How do you know Sands?" El asked calmly, casually.

"We've been... partners for just about seven years or so."

"So you work for the CIA?"

"Not for much longer," she answered.

"Why?" El looked at her, taking in her appearance as she leaned over him.

"I want out," she answered.

"Don't like it?" He cocked his head to the side.

Cerise looked up, meeting his eyes. "I want out of the agency to raise my daughter. I always knew something like this would happen," she answered softly. "I know he already blames himself for it," she said, looking back at her work. El was quiet for a moment. before speaking.

"I won't work for him, unless I know the truth."

Cerise smiled slightly, but didn't meet his eyes. She knew exactly what he wanted to know. "He's Lily's father, yes. And I do love him, El."

El narrowed his eyes. "How can you love a man like that?"

Cerise shook her head sadly. Then she stood over El and looked him directly in the eyes, holding his gaze. "Whatever you think of Sheldon Jeffrey Sands, El Marichi, you do not know the half of him. You do not know the full story, so your judgment is limited. Which is sad, damn it!"

"There isn't much room for judgement when you're speaking of a man who kills mercilessly."

"And you haven't ever done so? I find that VERY hard to believe," she snapped.

El glared. "He's greedy, he's dangerous, and he's crazy!"

Cerise twisted the tweezers as she worked on removing the bullet, bring a gasp of pain from El. She looked at him, knowing she had his full attention now, and leaned in close. "And he's human!" She pulled the bullet out with a yanking, making El cry out.

"Have you ever been a father, El?" she asked as she started to bandage the wound. When he didn't answer, she knew the truth. "Then you should understand how far you'd go to save your child's life. How far you're willing to go to fight for her."

"There is still a difference," El replied.

"What?!"

"My daughter is dead, and he knows it." Cerise slammed the first aid kit shut, fuming.

"You know, do you even know what happened to him that day? I don't think you care, but do you bloody know what happened?!" El looked at her, attempting to stay calm.

"What?"

"He lost his eyes!" she snapped dangerously. "Not just blind, his eyes are gone! He'll never see his daughter's face! He's only just recently discovered he's a father! Do you NOT at least have some pity for that?!"

El stared at her. It made sense now, all the agent's actions. El swallowed and found his voice. "It is hard to give pity like that..."

"Then you're not as bleedin' honorable as you believe yourself to be!" Cerise replied, moving away from him. "I wouldn't be here when I get back if I were you, I'll probably shoot you in the other shoulder," she replied, revealing her own 9 mm. "And I sure as hell wouldn't be here when Sands comes back."

She headed for the door, concealing her weapon again. El watched her leave in silence.