A/N: Good news for all the Harm/Mac Shippers, the worst of your angst is over. For all you Nate/Peach shippers, you ain't seen nothing yet! We all figured that if you were going to cheer for Nate/Peach, you should at least know why you want them together.

Mac and Nate were sitting quietly in her apartment. The last few days had been something of a scattered mess. With the ordeal done and over with, both of them finally had some time to relax. Nate's mind had been focused on getting back to work, no matter how often Mac and or the doctor told him to go easy on his knee. He was trying to focus on everything but the woman with whom he seemed to be spending the majority of his time recently.

Mac was sitting on her couch, trying to sort out her own romantic life. She realized, that in all she had revealed to Nate about her relationship with Harm, Nate had revealed surprisingly little if anything about his relationship with Peach. It didn't take a Nate Ross degree in body language to know that there was something between the two of them, even if it did seem somewhat one-sided.

Nate's reactions were nothing to judge feelings by. The man could hide behind a façade of Marine stoicism that had been fashioned by several generations of Marine Corps breeding. If Nate Ross didn't want someone to read his facial expressions, there was no way in hell they were going to be able to. Eventually, she knew, she was just going to have to ask. "Why do you freeze up sometimes?" Mac asked.

"What do you mean?" Nate responded, his elbows digging into his legs as he leaned forward.

"I mean, there are times when you can be this open book but when you want to, you can shut that open book and make it impossible for anyone else to open it." Mac explained, wringing her hands openly. Nate thought for a second and ran his hand over the light beard on his cheeks and chin. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a little book, no bigger then a date-book. He tossed it on the coffee table in front of Mac. Mac reached down and picked up the book. "What's this?"

She flipped through the pages, there were pages that were filled with pencilled in entries that were all written in short hand. She noticed eighty-seven entries had been numbered in the book before the writing stopped all together. "When you join the Sniper Corps, they send you to a shrink that tells you to keep this book as a therapeutic exercise. It's a Kill Book. Rather then try and remember all the people I shot when I was in the Corps, the book remembers for me." Nate explained. "There are dates, descriptions of the kill, names if I was told before the mission and times. It's not a lock up I do when I don't feel like opening up, it's a lock down. Like what happens in a prison. My mind just closes off all doors to the outside and I retreat into myself. I had to do it in order to kill the eighty-seven people in that book and every once in a while, my mind does it to remain in control."

"Nate, if that was all it was why didn't you just say that?" Mac questioned, slightly concerned by the ominous words.

"Because it's bad enough that I can't stop thinking about it. Making other people think about it isn't an option in my opinion. I will forever be attached to those eighty-seven people. I've heard the excuses and the rationalizations, that I was a trained soldier, a weapon of war, the same as a cruise missile or a bullet. None of that made it any easier. It was……when a normal Marine kills another human they can say 'it was either him or me'. In my case, it was a rarity that the people I shot ever even saw me. My life was a soundtrack of gunshots, locking another bullet into place, my heartbeat pounding in my ears and the slight sliding of my finger as I squeeze the trigger." Nate let out a heavy breath.

"Is that why you never let Peach get too close? Never let her know where she really stood with you except for a few pragmatic parts of your life?" Mac's prosecutorial instinct was kicking in rapidly.

"I suppose I do owe you something on that part. You told me about you and Ham, the least I could do was explain my own screwed up personal life. What do you want to know?" Nate asked.

"What are you willing to tell me?" Mac replied.

Flashback –

SEPTEMBER 1993

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"Alright, technically I can hire just about anyone I feel like hiring but in order to work on the North Africa/Middle East portfolio, you have to be cleared by the big boss." Gavin Ahrens led a younger Nicole DiPiccio through the rows of cubicles over to the big corner window office. Gavin knocked on the door and stepped back. A few seconds later, a younger Nate Ross came to the door and looked from Gavin to Nicole and then brought his eyes back to Gavin.

"Oh for Christ's sake Gavin, you're the director of personnel, you don't have to be afraid of me." Nate joked and gave Gavin a pat on the back.

"Stanford for her undergrad in History and Masters from the School of International Affairs at the University of Southern California and she speaks Spanish, English, Italian and Greek. She was hired to fill your junior negotiator void. Nicole, this is Nate Ross, he's your new boss. Nate's a Penn State/Princeton type; seven languages and the youngest undersecretary in charge of a portfolio, in the history of the United States Foreign Service." Gavin motioned to introduce the two.

"Is there some kind of reason for me to have a junior negotiator, Gavin?" Nate questioned.

"Every team is given two negotiators, one is the Undersecretary, and the other is the Special Assistant to the Undersecretary. You need this last member for your folio, I interviewed about forty applicants, and Nicole was the one I thought would work best with you. She's got the same kind of killer instinct that you do except she can play the good cop too, the closest you get to playing good cop is holding off on pummelling stupid people." Gavin joked. "I'll just leave you two to get acquainted."

"It's a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Ross." Nicole extended her hand.

"It's Nate, and trust me Miss. DiPiccio, it won't always be a pleasure to work with me. Sometimes it will be miserable, horrible and down right degrading, but as long as the job gets done, ours is not to question why." Nate and Nicole began to move through the cubicles.

"My friends call me Nic." Nicole said

"Nick, is a guy's name. Why not 'Peach' from your last name DiPiccio?" Nate turned back toward her, smiling in his own coy, almost condescending way.

"Peach, uh…" Nicole turned her gaze toward the floor to avoid looking at him. "Peach works." She stated with a nervous giggle, brushing an errant piece of hair out of face.

"Good, this here's Morley, he'll get you settled in. I've got a meeting with Holbrooke in twenty minutes that I absolutely cannot be late for. Tomorrow, I'll get you caught up and you'll pretty much be partnered with me until they either shuffle me up the ladder or shuffle me out to an embassy." Nate turned on heel and walked down the row toward the elevator.

"That's the boss. He's an alright guy once you get to know him. He's actually pretty funny and even a pretty soft touch when it comes to working hours but he's hard on himself. I don't think he walks out of that office until 2300 most nights. Mrs. Boss doesn't get it. She's pretty hard on him, I think he stays here until he just can't stay awake any more." Morley stated, scratching his signature across a form.

"Is he like the consummate professional or something?" Peach said caustically.

"Nah, he just needs to warm up to you." Morley laughed.

End Flashback-

"That was the day Peach walked into the State Department." Nate hung his head slightly. He gave his head a little shake and looked back up at Mac.

"You can be remarkably cocky sometimes and you can walk around like someone put too much starch in your shirt." Mac chuckled lightly.

"I'll remember that, I think it comes with being overeducated." Nate chuckled as well.

"The stories can't end there, I mean, there had to be something between you meeting Peach and your divorce the next May." Mac goaded like a little girl who wanted more bedtime story.

"There was this one time I remember." Nate started.

Flashback –

MARCH 1994

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Nate had his desk-lamp on and his jacket off as he was hunched over his desk, his eyes poring over the transcripts of negotiations in front of him. "Go home, Rose is waiting for you, you know she is." Peach was leaning against his doorframe.

"We're close, Peach. Really close. If I can help crack this one for Holbrooke, God only knows what it could mean." Nate looked up at the woman standing in his doorway.

"Nate, you're married to your wife not your job, go home and be with her, she'll appreciate it. You stay late every other night." Peach began to walk over from the doorframe. "You're so dedicated, so driven and it's all completely rooted in selflessness, go home and be selfless for her."

"It's got to be hard for her, Nate. You're Mister Ambition, Nate, and that's admirable but she needs to know that she comes first." Peach was now leaning over the desk and suddenly the room felt just a little warmer. Nate had to loosen his tie a little more.

"I don't know, Peach, we're in some pretty rough waters. I'm not sure that Rose and I can make it through." Nate shook his head.

"You never know unless you really try." She countered. Their lips were mere inches apart. They were looking into each other's eyes. Nate's tired, haggard look lending his young features a distinct wisdom.

"You're right." Nate retreated up out of his chair, he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. "Thanks, Peach."

"What about the Holbrooke transcripts?" Peach asked, holding up the paper.

"They'll look the same tomorrow morning." Nate smiled coyly before continuing his walk toward the elevator.

End Flashback –

"Would you have done it? Would you have cheated on your wife?" Mac's mind was rife with anticipation.

"I don't think so. Part of me knew that my marriage was hitting a very rough spot though when that happened. I was working twelve to fourteen hour days working to keep down fires in the Muslim world and working on Holbrooke's team to end the war in Bosnia. When I was in town, I was tired or working and then I would be out of town for days at a time. Then of course Rose would always put two and two together and think that since Peach and I were working together all the time, we couldn't just be friends, we had to be sleeping together." Nate ran a hand over the top of his head and through his hair.

"Okay, so your wife was having some problems containing the green-eyed monster. What happened next?" Mac asked. Nate shook his head from side to side before continuing.

-Flashback-

MAY 1994

HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

"How's it going, boss?" Morley questioned, carrying his own tone of exuberance on his voice.

"Fan-fucking-tastic, Morley. I'm getting divorced you jackass, how the fuck do you think I'm doing!" Nate practically shouted to the entire floor bringing the action to a halt. "I'm going to make this very clear to everyone here. I am fine. If any of you feel the need to impart some kind of Oprah/Barbara Walters/Dr. Laura solution on me, remember two things: I control your employment here and I control what hours you work. So, unless you want to be working the midnight to 0800 shift every morning for the next fiscal quarter, leave me the fuck alone today." Nate turned into the door of his office and slammed the door behind him.

"You think the boss is really that pissed?" Morley turned toward Peach.

"Have you ever seen him blow up like that with anyone else?" Peach responded to Morley's question with an annoyed glare.

"Beware: Pissed off, divorced, United States Marine in possession of high-powered rifle." Morley turned to head back to his cubicle. Peach bit her lip, slightly nervous before heading off toward Nate's office. She opened the door and walked in.

"I think that you sufficiently scared everyone on the floor with that speech. I'll be surprised if the dust-mites even come within three feet of that door." Peach through herself down in the chair.

"That just begs the question, what part of 'leave me alone' didn't you understand?" Nate looked up from the work on his desk.

"The part where I know that you can talk a big game, but you wouldn't follow through on that threat when it came to me or Morley. So, cut the tough guy act and go home. If you've ever had the right to take a personal leave day, this is that day." Peach across the desk and put her hand on his in a gesture of support.

"I don't do personal leave days." Nate returned his gaze to the red folder that was laid open in front of him.

"Nate, the State Department is not going to collapse if you take the day off because you're about to go through a divorce. Are you staying at home with Rose tonight?" Peach questioned.

"No, uh, I've been at the Holiday Inn for most of the week. I think, I'll talk to Mike Bradley at Langley a little later on. The whole thing should be over kind of quickly. I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for pre-nups." Nate chuckled self-deprecatingly before turning on his chair to face the TV in the room.

"You could stay with me if you need a place for awhile." Peach offered.

"I'm not sure that my lawyer will like that too much. Me staying at the apartment of a beautiful woman won't exactly play well in divorce proceedings, you know the way lawyers twist things." Nate explained with a heavy undertone.

"Yeah, it's getting so that a man and woman can't even be friends. If they get within three feet, they're automatically squeezing in a little sheet time together." Peach chuckled nervously.

"Squeezing in a little sheet time? That's really mature, Peach." Nate laughed.

"See, I knew I could get you to smile. Just remember, I'm here if you need to talk to me." Peach sat back in her chair. "You're a good guy, Nate."

"Just not a good husband." Nate admitted with a depressed tone.

"You're young yet, leatherneck, give it time." Peach lightly gave Nate's knuckles a pat before heading out of the office.

End Flashback –

Mac had to admire the girl's gusto. She was always there for Nate, no matter what it meant.

"The divorce became final a few weeks later and that was when Peach and I started to get closer as friends. We'd work on things at our respective apartments more, she'd fall asleep on my shoulder on plane trips and I'd get invited over for an Italian home cooked meal every time her grandmother was in town. Things went on at this light pace for the rest of '94 and '95 until we got back from Dayton in November…."

Flashback-

NOVEMBER 22nd, 1995

PRESTON ROSS' HOUSE

LEESBURG, VIRGINIA

"Is this the first time that you've seen Preston since your parents moved him out here to Leesburg?" Peach asked as the car pulled up to the boulevard in front of the house.

"Yeah, well, my mom realized that between her professorship at Georgetown and Dad's book tour, they can't really take care of him and they figured that he could probably handle being on his own again, I mean for the love of God, it's been four years." Nate and Peach got out of the car and started walking up the driveway to the house.

It was late afternoon and both of them were a little tired from the weeks' events. So the walk up the driveway was a little slower then usual. Both of them were still decked out in their best work attire. Nate in his tailored suit and Marine issue beige coat. Peach was wearing her own suit and heels, without the tie but rather a nice sweater under the coat. "Come on, Preston's going to want to see his little brother some time today, leatherneck." Peach coached as she started to jog up the driveway. Nate played for a few seconds before catching up to her. Then they heard one loud gunshot ring through the air, coming from the house.

Both of them began to run at a frantic pace up the steps of the porch. Nate kicked in the front door and the two of them began to search the house for Preston. Eventually, Nate made his way into the living room where he came upon the scene. The limp form of his brother was strewn across the floor, the old service sidearm was nearby and the wound in the back of Preston's head was indicative of only one thing; suicide. The note lay on a table on the other side of the room next to a picture of the two of them in their cammies on the ground in Kuwait.

Nate fell to his knees and began to quietly sob. Peach came around the corner to see the strongest man she had ever known, crippled to the floor under and emotional weight that would scare Atlas. She knelt next to him and it was mere seconds before Nate clutched at her desperately, a man looking for a stable thing in the world to hold on to. She held his head against her chest in a gesture of caring and security rather then desire.

"Hold on, don't get lost, I'll be here for you." She whispered into his ear and the two of them just knelt in that position on the floor until the emergency teams arrived. When the cops had finished asking questions and Nate had finished giving the paramedics all the information he could give them, Peach put her arm around his shoulders and guided him out of the house. When they got out of the house, Peach put her hand under his chin and lifted his face so that he was looking into her eyes. "Nathan, promise me…" she gripped his shoulders, "promise me, that you won't blame yourself for any of this. Nathan, you have to promise me." She was on the verge of tears herself, her lower lip quivering openly. Rather then answer, Nate just pulled her in for a tight hug.

End Flashback –

"But you did end up blaming yourself. Even though it wasn't your fault, nor was there anyway you could be blamed, you thought about what would have been if only you hadn't dragged your feet walking up the driveway, or what if you had shot the other guy four years earlier. Once again you blamed yourself for being nanoseconds too late. Didn't you?" Mac questioned looking over at an emotional wrought Nathan Ross.

"It is my fault, Mac!" Nate tried to launch himself to his feet but fell to the floor after putting too much pressure on his knee.

"Oh God, Nate don't overwork your knee. I'm supposed to be nursing you back to health not letting you make your knee worse." Mac knelt down and helped Nate back up to the couch. "Now, as for Preston's death, none of it was your fault. You didn't give him the gun. Even if you did drag your feet when you were in driveway, if he was determined to really kill himself, he would have done it eventually anyway and there was nothing you could have done to stop him."

"That doesn't make it any easier, Mac. In the span of eighteen months, I'd lost the two people I was closest too in the world and all I could think was that I could have done something to make sure I still had them both and the whole time, I didn't see the one person that was willing to stick by me." Nate ran his left hand over the hair on his chin.

"Alright, you and I both know that these kinds of relationships never go too long without the sexual tension rising to the surface at some point where neither party can gloss over it or try and ignore it any more. When did that moment come for the two of you?" Mac asked.

"Well, New Year's Eve 1998, we were in Dublin working with both the British and Irish diplomatic corps on a way to end the troubles in the North…"

Flashback-

DECEMBER 31st, 1998

ARCHBISHOP RYAN PARK

DUBLIN, REPUBLIC OF IRELAND

Nate and Peach had left their British and Irish counterparts at Dougal's in Merrion Square and went for a walk through the park. "I don't know why, but I always love coming to this city, there's just something about it." Nate was being slightly more sentimental tonight. "For some reason the song Evangeline just started running through my head."

"She stands on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi, alone in the pale moonlight, waiting for a man, a riverboat gambler, said that he'd return tonight." Peach sang softly into the night air.

"They used to waltz on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi, loving the whole night through, till the riverboat gambler, went off to make a killing and bring it on back to you." Nate sang the next part. Then two voices joined for the chorus. "Evangeline, Evangeline, curses the soul of the Mississippi Queen that pulled her man away."

"That was the first song that you and I ever danced to at an embassy reception." Peach chuckled lightly.

"Yeah, I remember. I love that song. I never knew why that whenever you and I would sing it, you would always sing Rick's part and I would sing Emmylou's." Nate chuckled as the two of them approached the statue of Oscar Wilde perched on the rock. "I remember, Princeton Lit class, there was this one quote from Oscar Wilde that I remembered, or stuck with me, however you prefer to think about it."

"What was the quote?" Peach stepped a little closer to Nate's side, looping her arm through his.

"When a love comes to an end, weaklings cry, efficient ones instantly find another love, and the wise already have one in reserve.' I spent a lot of time thinking about that quote a while back." Nate let out a heavy breath and his breath rose in a fog through the air.

"So, what are you; efficient or wise?" Peach asked and Nate was forced to gulp, his body language knowledge giving him some foresight into where the conversation was headed.

"I don't really fit into any of the categories." Nate chuckled nervously.

"I suppose you're right. In the five years since your divorce you haven't dated and if you were either efficient or wise you would have picked up another lover since then. So what has someone like you clinging to bachelorhood?" Peach asked.

"Someone like me?" Nate replied.

"Brilliant, funny, charming, nice, good-looking; you know, Prince Charming minus the horse." She joked, trying to hide some of what was about to burst through the seams of the conversation.

"I suppose I could ask you the same question. Why is a beautiful, intelligent and mesmerizing woman such as yourself, single?" Nate finally lifted his eyes to face her.

"I asked first." She replied somewhat breathless.

"I don't have an answer." Nate made a prolonged blink.

"Either do I." Peach added. "So where does that leave us?"

"A Park in Dublin on New Year's Eve." Nate looked down at his watch. "With eleven seconds until midnight."

"Ten." Peach corrected.

"Nine." Nate added, his eyelids holding at half-staff over his eyes.

"Eight." Peach's lips began to gravitate towards Nate's.

"Seven." His lips got closer to hers.

"Six." Her tone was become huskier and her breath coming in more rapid gasps.

"Five." Nate's eyes danced across the vision that her lips made before him.

"Four." Her chest connected with his as they got closer.

"Three." His head bent just a little more.

"Two." Her voice was now at a bedroom tone.

"One." He closed the distance between them as their lips interlocked. His tongue traced the seam of her lips her so slightly as if a cautious request for permission. She couldn't help but smile as she willingly obliged him. His arms came around her waist and pressed her against him. He supported her as she fell against him. Just as soon as this frenzied coupling had united, spurred on by years of pent up sexual tension that could light a small city, it was broken. "Oh God, Peach, I'm so sorry." Nate pulled away and wiped his lips.

"Why? If you couldn't tell, I was a more then willing participant." She countered, taking the step toward him.

"That doesn't make it right." Nate answered.

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Peach moved toward him again, this time not in an aggressive but more of a reassuring way.

"You're Peach! You're my best friend, the woman whose kept me sane for five years……I'm not supposed to do things like that with you." Nate protested.

"Why not? You said it yourself, I'm a woman. I have news for you Nate, you're a man. A man I respect, like and admire very much so you'll excuse me if I don't understand the problem. Are you not attracted to me or something?" Peach took a protective step backward.

"Don't think that for a second." Nate shot back like he was trying to collect his thoughts.

"Then what? I'm not good enough for you?" She was now a full-fledged woman on a rampage.

"You're too good for me and my complexes and issues. You deal with my ability to deal with them. If you got any closer to me, you'd actually have to deal with the problem and I'm not about to be responsible for screwing up your life with my problems." Nate's outburst was soon reined back in. "I understand what this whole night has meant, so, the second we get back to Washington, I'll call Andrea Wallace over at the Southern Europe desk and have you transferred over to her department." Nate began to walk away when Peach caught him by the arm.

"No." She stated quietly. "No, I can work with you. You're about to fill Bill Ward's chair as the Assistant Secretary for our department and when you do, I want you to know that you have someone you can count on as part of your team." She reassured him.

"Nothing's really changed?" Nate asked.

"Nothing's really changed." Peach affirmed. No matter how much they would deny it in the coming months though. Something had definitely changed.

-End Flashback-

"Your mom obviously didn't teach you a damn thing when you were growing up. Not about women anyway." Mac protested.

"What are you talking about?" Nate was now trying not to be offended.

"Nate, women don't need you to protect them all the time. You have to be one of the most frustrating men I've ever met! It's hard to fault you for anything because you never think of yourself but good God you can be frustrating. It wasn't up to you to protect her on this one. She knew what she was getting into, for God's sake; she was with you when you discovered your brother's body." Mac protested.

"If that was all I thought it was, I would have had no problems. My issues with the Commandant, that kill book," Nate pointed the little red book on the table, "that's a world I was trying to protect her from. You told me once, when you told me about Chris, that given the right circumstances we are all capable of murder. If someone came across that book, they'd say that I proved capable eighty-seven times. Mac, be a lawyer for a second, with the evidence in front of you, am I capable of killing again?"

Mac had to pause for a second. "It wasn't murder." Then Mac thought, she was about to say something that she remembered Nate saying he'd heard before. "It was your job, Nate. You were trained to squeeze a trigger and who knows how many lives you saved by using that skill the way you did. Yeah, eighty-seven people ended up on the wrong end of your scope but they might have killed Marines if they hadn't. You did what needed to be done and even though it sure as hell wasn't pretty, you did it anyway."

"Yeah, you get it, you're a Marine. She was just some cloistered kid from Seattle; the idea of killing out of necessity wouldn't have washed with her. So, it became necessary to try and keep her at arms length so that every thing could slowly go back to normal." Nate explained.

"Enter Petra Triescu."

Flashback –

NOVEMBER 1999

NATO SUMMIT

BARCELONA, SPAIN

"Alright, just remember that you've got a meeting with the French and Italian delegations tomorrow morning before your round-table tomorrow evening. You got all that?" Peach questioned as they walked into the lobby of the hotel.

"Power down, DiPiccio, we've got a good nine hours before then. I'm going to go have a drink at the bar with Spinner and Morley, see you tomorrow." Nate headed off toward the lounge.

"Make sure you have Malbec, you're always at the top of your game after you drink something Argentinean." Peach pointed out as she headed off toward the elevator.

"Peach, we're in Spain; I'm going to have Tempranillo." Nate chuckled slightly.

"You only drink wine, why is that?" Peach questioned as the two faced each other across the lobby.

"It's classy kind of like me." Nate replied coyly.

"My God, you've got an ego." Peach jibed before stepping on to the elevator. Nate turned into the lounge and saw his two friends sitting at a table.

"Tell me that you two haven't just been sitting in the hotel all day. This is Spain for God's sakes, go out and get laid, you'll feel better." Nate pulled a chair up to the table.

"Sorry, boss it's just that Spinner and I have been sitting here for the last hour trying to figure out the right way to approach the ladies at the bar but we can't think of a single thing." Morley admitted, only momentarily turning his gaze from the beautiful girls.

"Guys, there's nothing to it." Nate said as he raised his glass of Tempranillo to his lips. "Just walk over to them and talk. Don't over think it. That's Petra Triescu, she's the chief of American affairs for the government of Latvia, my guess is that her friends are fellow diplomats, talk to them about the summit, then gently wean on to other topics."

"Boss, those are model worthy women and I'm just an average kid from Jersey, I got about as much of a chance with one of those women as I do with an actual model." Spinner commented.

"Nonsense, guys, if I can do it, so can you." Nate coached as he finished off his first glass of wine and ordered a second which was promptly delivered.

"Boss, we're not in the same league when it comes to women, we all know that. You might have a chance with them but I definitely don't." Morley jested. Nate was quickly draining his second glass of wine. He wiped his mouth once he finished the second glass.

"Come on, boss, are you saying that you could just walk up to Petra and get her phone number or something?" Spinner asked disbelievingly.

"I got an Andrew Jackson says you can't even get her phone number, boss." Morley raised an American twenty dollar bill out of his pocket.

"I'll put twenty in." Spinner dropped a twenty on the table.

"I couldn't take your money." Nate chuckled.

"All talk, huh, boss?" Morley jibed. Nate looked from the forty dollars on the table over to the very well proportioned blonde sitting at the bar.

"A Marine never backs down from a challenge, especially from someone who went to the University of Michigan." Nate got up and walked over to the bar. He leaned on the bar and edged closer to Petra.

"When did you get in?" Nate asked in Russian, being as it was a language they could communicate in safely without being overheard.

"Early this afternoon, yourself?" She replied in a like manner.

"Late last night. How long has it been since we……?" Nate couldn't bring himself to fully finish the sentence.

"Too long. Can you still do that one thing where……?" She eluded, unsure how to finish the sentence.

"Sure can. So when are we going to……" Nate asked.

"How about now?" Petra finished looking over at him. She got up off the barstool and took Nate's arm as the two of them walked out of the lounge.

"We're going to owe him forty bucks tomorrow." Spinner deadpanned.

A FEW HOURS LATER…………

"Nate open up, I know you're in there." Peach pounded on the door of Nate's hotel room. A few minutes later, Nate came walking back over to the door in the complimentary white cotton bathrobe that came with the room.

"Peach, it's very late. Unless there is something that could adversely effect my position at the meeting with the French at 0900 tomorrow morning, I really don't need to hear it." Nate opened the door slightly.

"Actually, I just wanted to return this copy of Dorian Gray that you lent me. I can see what you like about Oscar Wilde now." She replied as she handed him the book. In order to grab for the book, the door swung wider to reveal the sight of Petra Triescu lying naked on top of the covers in the room. "I see you're entertaining." Peach remarked coldly.

"I'll be better at the tables tomorrow if I'm not frustrated." Nate retorted in a pathetic excuse for an explanation.

"Would figure that we couldn't go to Europe and have you keep it in your pants until we got home." She tossed the book at his chest. Nate closed the door and stepped out into the hallway.

"Last I checked, my sex life was not the business of the State Department in particular or the American government as a whole. So, if I want to make Petra scream Russian obscenities and invoke the deities until four in the morning, in the same manner as she's been doing for the last two hours, that will remain my business. Are we understood?" Nate's stature seemed to inflate before Peach's very eyes.

"You know, when you act like an asshole you go all Princeton on us and make sure that everyone knows just how well spoken you can be. Well, I have news for you, Mr. Ross. It is the business of the United States what you do tonight because the amount of sleep you get tonight will affect your performance tomorrow. So, yeah, you can go back in there and screw her pretty little blonde head off but in the six years I've known you, you wouldn't throw your job away for anything. You wouldn't let it take second place to your marriage, or your family or even your friends and you expect me to believe that Nathan Daniel Ross is going to go in there and throw away his job for sex? Nathan, no matter how good a diplomat you are, you're a shitty actor. If you do anything but go back in there and sleep, I'll bite my finger off. Face it, Nate you don't have it in you to be a slacker." Peach challenged.

"So much for 'nothing's really changed'." Nate spat back.

"You know what? I don't know what the hell happened but you've been a real asshole lately. Call me when you find my friend Nate, would you?" With that Peach turned and headed back down the hall.

"Definitely should have had the Malbec." Nate slunk back into the hotel room.

End Flashback –

"I've heard that you two came within centimetres of killing each other in the months that followed that night. What happened then?" Mac asked, thoroughly enthralled by the stories.

"She started dating a doctor at Mercy Hospital and I threw myself into work again." Nate leaned back against the couch.

"What happened with her and the doctor?" Mac inquired.

"He and I got into a fistfight at the Truman Building. We weren't sure which of us started it." Nate chuckled slightly.

"But you being the Marine likely pounded the crap out of him." Mac concluded.

"Broke three ribs, his nose and his arm. I escaped with a few bruises and cuts. Nothing an ice pack and a few days of work wouldn't cure." Nate chuckled once again.

"She forgave you for that?" Mac asked, her interest at a peak.

"Yeah, that actually caused the break up between her and the doctor. She refused to believe that I started the fight. He said it was because she could never see my faults and he just couldn't be in a relationship where he was being judged against another guy so prevalently." Nate informed Mac as he slowly got off the couch this time and began to pace the room.

"Alright, so what happened when you left the State Department last November?" Mac was probing just so she could get to the root of the current animosity.

"Ah yes…"

-Flashback-

NOVEMBER, 2001
HARRY TRUMAN BUILDING

FOGGY BOTTOM, WASHINGTON DC

Nate stood out on the old stone balcony of the Secretary of State's office overlooking the Washington. Inside the office, a party was being had in his honour. Nate leaned over the railing and took the chilly Washington air into his lungs. That was when he heard the familiar sound of heels clacking behind him. "Well if it isn't the man of the hour." Peach slurred, obviously having visited the bar inside.

"Honey, you're drunk, I'll drive you home." Nate started to guide her back inside.

"Oh yes, Nathan Ross, can't imagine that someone might want to loosen up a little. All business, Mr. Professional, soon to be Mr. President," she chuckled, "coming to a Blockbuster near you!"

"God, you're drunk off your ass. Come on, let's get you home." Nate tried to guide her back in but she struggled against him again.

"I'm not drunk. You and I are full of shit. We say we want full honesty, but we're only honest when we're asked the question. That's not full honesty because to be completely honest, Nathan, I want to fuck your brains out. Admit it, you've thought about it." She winked at him.

"As a heterosexual male, the thought has crossed my mind, yes." Nate replied stoically.

"I bet your good. Hell I know it, the whole fucking hotel was talking about that night with Petra, I think most of us heard it, she wasn't exactly quiet. Score one more for your ego. Yeah, I had to field questions too. Other women wondering how close we really were, wondering how big it was, all sorts of questions. Your cock basically had it's own press conference and I was its press secretary. Then it occurred to me that's pretty much my job for you. For eight years, I've been your secretary basically. No one knows you better then I do, but still I don't know what's going on in that fucked up little Marine head of yours." Peach jabbed her index finger into his forehead.

"Come on, let's get you home and in bed." Nate coached.

"Now you're talking!" She smacked him on the ass. "Be honest, Nate, if I had asked you. Just came right out and asked you for the whole 'friends with benefits' package, would you have obliged?"

"No. I respect you too much." Nate opened the door to the inside of the building.

"Bullshit! You don't fucking respect me at all! You never let me make any decisions regarding work. Nope, when it comes to North Africa and the Middle East, you're the boss and everyone fucking knows it. Hell, even Malcolm treats you like you're Jesus Christ and he's just Saint Peter. But I know you specialize in it and I know you're my boss technically so I don't try and make decisions without consulting you about work. But you know what fucking hurt the most? You didn't think I could decide whether I could deal with you and that little fucked up life of yours. Well I have news for you, I knew, I knew it all and I still fell for you! So to hell with you and your dignity, I don't need you to drive me home!" She turned from him but not before he could pluck the keys from her pocket.

"Not much you can do without these." He dangled the keys off his finger.

"Give them back, Nate. You can be an asshole, that's fine, I've learned how to deal with that but don't go back to self-righteous and noble now that I want to forget you." Peach lunged for the keys but Nate ducked them into his breast pocket. He then reached down and hauled her up over his shoulder to take her home and help her sober up.

End Flashback –

"That's one long and interesting history. No wonder you understand Harm and I so well." Mac admitted.

"It's not about understanding, it's about not judging." Nate answered.