She slowly ebbs from slumber, sensing it's still the middle of the night, from the lack of light attacking her closed eyelids. In the quiet, another pattern of breathing becomes clear, with much slower cadence. It feels so familiar, she's not alarmed at the unusual presence in her bed. Opening her eyes to get them used to the dark, they seek the sound and she smiles, feeling a warmth spread through her, at confirming that he is indeed there. Despite the cold of the night, his torso is bare, the sheet only reaching as far up as his waist; his peaceful face is turned towards her and one of his hands rests possessively on her hip. A song suddenly becomes clear, playing in the background; it's so familiar, she smiles contentedly, fixing her stare on him, again, debating whether or not to wake him up.

"She took off her dress, and I took a peek

While thunderstorm played hide and seek"

Last time a storm had rained down on her, more thunder and lightning had happened inside her apartment, than outside. Her body also remembers the sheer, unadulterated pleasure she'd gotten, that night, and a sharp tingling sensation starts to pool between her legs.

"I begged for a kiss, she gave me seven

Our lips touched and it feel like heaven"

She reaches for his lips and kisses them; a light, dry brushing, first, until he senses her and wakes from his sleep. She deepens the kiss, now, wetting her lips, and the warmth of his makes her move toward him, fusing their bodies into one. He darts out his tongue to taste her, still half asleep, and she tries to push him into the mattress, but it turns out he's not that sleepy. A smile slowly creeps up in the corners of his mouth with a huff, and his hand moves up her back, fingertips brushing against her skin, until it reaches her hair.

"Everything I want is what she does to me

She don't blush 'cause she's so damned free"

She bends her right leg at the hip and cradles him, pushing her pelvis upwards, towards his now aroused body. His kiss is leaving her dizzy and lightheaded, and the heat between her legs has spread to every other part of her body, making her feel like she's on fire. Egged on by her own desire, she removes her right hand from his hair and brings it down to his backside, cupping it. She squeezes him there, and he groans, mouth still attached to hers; his reflex action, of pure desire, is to press her even further against the mattress and she lifts her other leg to show him she's not letting him go.

"When she makin' love it's like surgery

And she say, ooh, I love you in me"

And suddenly he's inside her, and it's the most electrifying, out-of-this world sensation she's ever experienced. Closing her eyes to everything else around her but the feeling between her legs, she lifts her head and searches for his neck. His carotid artery pulses with the strain of the vigorous exercise he's putting his body through, and she loves the taste of his sweat on her tongue. He moans and turns his head to meet his lips with hers, kissing her furiously, before moving his mouth down to her breasts.

"I promised myself not to come until she does

And she took both hands and a liar I was"

Now she has him between her hands, too, and he's lying on his back, eyes closed, a look of utter pleasure on his face. The look is very familiar to her, like she's been in this situation before, but she can't remember when. Come to think of it, what time is it? What day is it? She looks to the side, but her alarm clock is not there. Neither is her mobile phone. She's suddenly brought back to reality when she hears him moan loudly, almost begging her to keep going, but he doesn't speak or open his eyes at her, entranced in his own pleasure.

"No man in this world could ever hope to last

Then my baby downshifts and starts pumpin' fast"

She brings him close to the edge, but decides against letting him finish there. He's so far gone, the decision couldn't be his, anyway. All he can muster, right now, are his ragged breaths pumping air into his lungs, brain a total fog. So she moves up, slowly dragging herself up his legs, and stands above him. "Hey, look at me," she says, commandingly. It takes him a minute to process her request and he manages it with difficulty. His eyes are of the bluest blue, in the middle of the dark, and he seems in awe of her. His look is so intense, she senses he's begging, but again, he doesn't utter a word. When she starts to lower herself onto him, his breathing quickens again, shallower and urgent. His eyes never leave hers, this time. He reaches for her hips and helps her up and down motion, but it all suddenly feels too little. Regaining some of his superior functions, he wraps his leg on hers and, with a quick motion, flips them over. He reaches for her leg again, aiming for better depth and plunges into her for the last time, making her moan uncontrollably, hands pulling at his hair.

"I love you, I love you, in me

Our bodies sink in a pool of sweat

Yeah

(Ooh, I love you in me)"

Catherine wakes up, drenched in sweat; it's still the middle of the night and not a sound is stirring. Groaning into the pillow, she realises, once again, it was all a dream and the man she was dreaming of is not by her side. "Too cold for D.C. anyway", she mumbles under her breath in cruel frustration, remembering the sheet that hadn't covered his bare torso. She wonders why this is happening to her now, when the subject of her vivid erotic dreams is five thousand miles away, getting on with his life. Is this punishment for having slept with another woman's man? Why is my mind torturing me to keep reliving a night that should not have taken place? Or do I miss him so much that my subconscious keeps trying to tell me that, since I won't even allow such thoughts to come into my conscious mind, when I am awake?

Regret fills Catherine's heart because she knows how difficult it will be for her not only to forget what happened, but also not to wonder what could've come out of it, if Steve wasn't such a stunted human being, when it came to feelings and expressing them out loud. Or didn't have a girlfriend, that "small" detail. She gets up to wander aimlessly around the house, avoiding even a look at her couch, and with it, memories of them together. Her path is clear, to her; she made her choice, a long time ago and nothing has substantially changed, from those days, however much she would've loved to hear those three magic words come out of his mouth. Catherine's a practical woman; if the CIA is what her future must entail, for lack of a better option, really, then she'll give it her all. First and foremost, she's a soldier and she loves her country. She'll just have to get used to the idea that that love is the most she'll have to give to anyone, in the years to come.