Alex awoke in the morning, wondering when he had last slept on a proper bed instead of those camp beds in the warehouse. He hadn't slept peacefully in such a long time that he was shocked when he awoke, the sunlight already streaming in through the curtains. He closed his eyes once more, wondering if he could get away with another hour of sleep, but a familiar smell entered his nostrils.

Sniffing loudly, Alex peeled his eyes open then, seeing the cup of coffee on the bedside table, sat on a coaster. The white mug had steam emerging from it, letting him know that it was freshly made.

"Don't worry, I didn't spike it with sugar," Clara's voice drifted into his ears and he slowly moved, pushing himself onto his elbows, turning his head to look to her.

She was sat up, the cushions plumped up against the wooden headboard. She had her cup of coffee in her fingers, her legs bent and a piece of paper sat against her limbs. She had stolen his glasses, letting them perch on her nose as she looked down at the paper.

"What you reading?" Alex muttered, still feeling groggy as he managed to reach one arm over his body, grabbing the cup by the handle and pulling it towards him, sipping on it as he pushed his body further up to rest against the headboard.

"Nothing really," Clara said. "Just a news article about Gretchen being found…she didn't say anything about us…I don't know. I know she's a bad person, but she has a daughter. Why did she not try to turn away from this life for her daughter?"

Shrugging, Alex sipped on the coffee once more. "Maybe she tried?" he said. "I don't know, Clara. We never really knew her. She isn't worth your time."

"I know," Clara said, moving to push the paper onto the floor. "Anyway, how did you sleep?"

"Pretty well," Alex responded to her with a nod. "I haven't slept on a mattress this comfortable in a very long time. Do you think I can manage to stay here all day?"

Clara let out a small laugh before taking a drink. "I doubt it," she informed him. "We should get up soon. Lincoln wants us back out there and hunting down whoever has Scylla. I don't know, Alex. The closer we get the more I keep freaking out."

Shaking his head at her, Alex let him move a hand to rest on top of her knee that was covered by the duvet. Looking over to him, she managed a small smile as Alex placed his mug down on the bedside table. Shifting closer to her, he dared to wrap his arm around her shoulders, holding her to him while she wrapped both her hands around her mug, moving her head to rest just in between his shoulder and neck.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt," Clara whispered. "Can you just promise me that? Just promise me that…whatever happens…we're doing it to keep people safe. Okay?"

"That's all we have ever done," Alex responded in a whisper. "Come on, Clara. Let's just worry about that when we have what we need. For now, let's just concentrate on getting Scylla back."

"I can do that," Clara nodded at him, moving a hand to rest on his thigh. "Let the day begin."

…

Clara seemed to find that her appetite had left her whenever she was in the company of Don and Bagwell. She had perched at the breakfast bar with Alex next to her, his hand holding the back of her seat as he watched her pick at the toast on the plate in front of her.

"Y'know," Bagwell began and Clara almost looked at him to glower, but everyone remained silent, focused on sitting around the breakfast bar and eating their toast. "I'd bet there's a good story behind how you two got together. The FBI agent and the lecturer."

"Sounds like a bad porno," Self scoffed and Clara slipped from the stool.

"I'd guess you'd know all about those," she responded.

"Why don't you two just mind your own business?" Alex wondered, sipping on his coffee before following after her.

She went into the living room as Lincoln entered, a stack of brown envelopes in his fingertips. Motioning to them with her chin, Clara looked to Lincoln. "What are they?" she wondered.

"Don't know," Lincoln said, "but there's one for each of us."

Handing them out, Clara took hers and peeled the lid, lifting the paper out slowly. Looking to it, she let her brow furrow as she saw the photograph. Pushing it back inside, she heard Alex open us and react with anger, hitting the pillar with it. She knew instantly who he had a photograph of.

"If they touch my momma I'll end their lives," Bagwell said once he had seen his.

"LJ," Lincoln mumbled his son's name.

"So he is threatening us?" Clara wondered. "I don't think we're working for them. Give me your phone. I want to call him. I need to call him."

"No," Lincoln said, holding his hand up to stop her from coming closer to him. Looking to her, he pulled his cell out. "I'll talk to him. I'll be more level headed than you."

"I can be level headed," Clara protested. "So just pass me the phone and I will talk to him."

"No," Lincoln said, his tone harsher this time as he spoke to her. Placing the phone against his ear, he told the General how they had found a set of keys on the man they had killed yesterday. They also told him how they didn't appreciate being threatened, but he didn't seem concerned.

"He wants to talk to you," Lincoln gave in and handed her the cell.

Taking it, Clara kept her grip on the envelope as she moved through the living room and the men watched her go, her strides harsh and determined a as she moved to the balcony, her voice full of anger as she spoke.

"I swear to God if you lay a finger on him I will kill you myself," Clara snarled as she heard her uncle chuckle at her tone.

"First we threatened you with Tom and now Alex. You need to stay away from men, Clara, they do nothing but cause you trouble," he informed her as she held the envelope tight to her chest, unable to comprehend the man whose photo was inside of it being hurt.

Gulping, Clara looked over the sea. "What do you want?"

"I want to know exactly what you are doing," Jonathan demanded from her. "I know why you initially went to find Scylla. You thought it would help Mr. Mahone, but now Mr. Mahone is working for me, that is unless he would like to bury his ex-wife alongside his son."

"You sick bastard," Clara whispered, her breath taken away by his cruel and callous words.

"I know you have no intention of working for me," Krantz continued. "You were going to betray me. I hope that photo in there makes you think differently. It seems you and Mr. Scofield are both idealists."

"What about Michael?" Clara wondered. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing that I wanted to do," the General seemed to complain and Clara felt her eyes flitter around as her stomach churned, wondering what the hell that meant. "He's on the run. His brother knows and I have warned him to find Scylla before Michael. However, know this, Clara, if I get a whiff of you deciding to help the wrong brother, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through Alexander Mahone's head."

"Stay away from me," Clara demanded, hanging up the phone and bowing her head, her hands grabbing hold of the railing in front of her.

Closing her eyes, she barely felt him come up behind her. But as soon as she felt his presence, she turned around, pressing herself to him as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Snaking a hand up to cup the back of her head, he moved to kiss her on the forehead, the motion tender as she did her best not to think of what her uncle had just said.

"Any point in asking whose photo is in that envelope?" he wondered from her and she shook her head at him.

"I won't let him," Clara said, her voice full of determination. "He…"

Trailing off, Alex let his fingers grip her hair as he tried to soothe her, feeling her body shake against his as he kept his grip tight and firm around her. She had her eyes closed as she burrowed her cheek against his chest, feeling his warm skin from where his buttons were left open.

"It was normal," Clara suddenly whispered. "Getting up this morning…making coffee…and bringing it to you…it was the most normal thing we have done in a long time and for a moment I forgot about everything."

"I know," was all that he could say to her, bending down to kiss her forehead once more, his lips lingering there as he felt her hands leave his waist and she stood up straight, pulling herself together.

"So I need to do this…because I want that feeling," she said to him. "And I want to be with you…despite everything…"

Watching her walk back into the kitchen, Alex remained on the balcony as he observed her hand the phone back to Lincoln and then toss the envelope into the bin. Wiping her eyes with her fingers, she sniffed once and then perched on the bar stool, opening the laptop and looking to the keys they had found the previous day.

Alex went back in there, hands on his hips and pushing back the black suit jacket he wore over a white shirt. Standing behind her, he moved one hand to hold the back of the chair as he watched her set to work, looking to the keys that they had found.

"Do you have your glasses?" Clara wondered from him, holding her hand out and Alex took his glasses from his pocket, handing them to her.

"Where are yours?"

"Lost them," she muttered, slipping his spectacles onto her eyes again before going back to searching the computer.

"D'you know something, Don?" Bagwell spoke, breaking the silence as Don and Lincoln sat besides Clara at the breakfast bar. "You're pretty calm over there. Little Miss Perfect at the end freaked out, but you? You're as cool as a cucumber."

"I did not freak out," Clara muttered, but no one paid her any attention.

"I'm just a calm person," Don mumbled.

"But who was the photo of?" Bagwell pushed.

"None of your business," Don snapped before Clara stumbled across something.

"Hold-Secure," she said, reading from the screen, squinting as she looked behind her and saw that Alex was looking with intrigue. Passing him his glasses back, she let him read this time. Letting him move to read over her shoulder, he looked to the screen and spoke.

"That is the company that made those keys," Alex continued. "Each key has a chip inside of it which sends out a signal to open its lock."

"So it's basically a fancy key?" Lincoln checked and Clara shrugged.

"Yeah," Clara responded. "Every key opens a lock."

"But you can get keys cut," Alex said, reaching for the ones they had on the table. "These ones you can't replicate."

"Fancy," Bagwell muttered.

"So do you think they will have some kind of database?" Clara wondered as Lincoln pushed himself to his feet and moved to peer at the laptop. "I mean, it's pretty techy, right?"

"I'd say so," Alex nodded. "Is there a contact number for them?"

"You've got the glasses," she reminded him.

Instead of handing them back to her, he moved his arms around her, typing on the keyboard as his chest pressed against her back. She leant back slightly, her head coming to his shoulder as Alex looked on the website, searching for a number.

"You know, that's pretty distracting," Alex muttered as he felt her hair tickle against his neck.

"Deal with it," she muttered and Alex chuckled, moving quickly to kiss her on the side of the head as he kept on working and finally found a number.

"Write it down," Clara told him. "I'll give them a call."

Alex did as he was told, scribbling the number down on a piece of paper before Clara slipped off the stool and wandered into the office area, picking up the phone and dialling. Alex watched her for a few minutes, hearing her laugh and use her charm that she no doubt developed from her time as an investigative journalist.

She came back out after a few minutes, writing on post-it notes as she wandered back through to the living room. "So, one is for some place in Little Havana and the other one is by the marina. So how do you want to split this?"

"Bagwell and Self can go to Little Havana. Me and Linc can take the marina," Alex said, leaving no room for complaint as Clara handed Bagwell the address for Little Havana.

"And me?" Clara asked from Alex. "You know, when you make all of these plans I never really equate into them."

Moving to take hold of her by the elbow, Alex steered her outside, almost letting out an annoyed expression. She followed him to the balcony and he spoke to her in a hushed tone, voice low as he looked inside and saw Self and Bagwell leave while Lincoln remained occupied on his cell, his voice harsh as he spoke to Michael.

"I need you to find out what Michael is planning," Alex whispered to her.

"Why?"

"Because you're right," Alex told her. "We can't give Scylla back to The Company. I heard Lincoln on the phone earlier. I get the feeling Michael isn't with the General."

"You would be correct," Clara said. "But how am I supposed to reach him?"

"I'll distract Lincoln for a minute. I need you to get his number and call him," Alex said to her. "I know you, Clara. You need this. You need to do the right thing and the right thing is bringing Krantz down."

"Thank you," Clara said with haste, moving to swiftly kiss him before going back into the living room where Lincoln had hung up his call.

"You ready?" Lincoln wondered.

"Yeah," Alex nodded.

"Before you go," Clara said moving quickly, "can I just borrow your cell? I want my uncle's number because…because I think I said some things on the phone earlier that I need to take back. Things about…just…I get it, okay? I'm on board with this because he threatened to kill Alex and I just need him to know I understand."

Alex shrugged at that. "Not going to argue if she wants to save my life," he informed Lincoln who nodded.

Passing Clara his phone, he watched her go and stand by the table, scribbling down numbers. But she didn't take note of the General's number when she came to recent calls. She scribbled down the number Michael had used to call him. Handing him the cell back, she shot Alex a nod before the two men left the apartment.

Once she was sure they had gone, she took the paper into the study, closing the door behind her. Settling behind the big desk, she took a deep breath before calling the number. It took a few moments before he answered.

"Hello?"

"Michael, it's me, Clara," she said with haste.

"Clara, what are you doing? I thought you were with Lincoln?"

"I am," Clara said, "but I can't do this, Michael. I know you and I know you don't want The Company to have Scylla, but it's more complicated than that. He's threatened everyone's loved ones…Alex…LJ…"

"There has to be another way," Michael told her. "Your uncle had me held in a remote location. According to Sara he was trying to brainwash me to join them. Your cousin, Lisa, she told Sara where I was. Apparently she has defected."

Clara blinked profusely then, wondering if that was true. She didn't question it. Instead she just wondered what that meant. Could they trust Lisa? Clara didn't dwell on it, wondering if she could call her cousin and find out the truth.

"But you got out?" Clara checked.

"Just," Michael responded. "But the General now wants me dead."

"So what are you doing?" Clara enquired from him.

"Sara and I are on the way to Miami," Michael said. "We're going to find Scylla and do the right thing. Krantz can't win…but I think this is bigger than that. My mother…she's alive and I think she is something to do with The Company."

Again, Michael shocked Clara. "But Alex said your mom had died?"

"I thought so too, but apparently not," Michael said. "But I need more information. Is there any chance you can dig deeper? Find out anything about her in The Company?"

"I can try," Clara said, "but I think the laptop is from The Company so they'll be tracking it. I…maybe Lisa…I don't know, Michael. I can't promise you anything, but I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask," Michael said.

"Yeah," Clara nodded her head. "But I just needed to call you to find out what you had planned. Alex and I…we're with you, you know? We'll help you when the time comes to it."

"Thank you," Michael said, sounding sincere. "Keep this number on you and call me tomorrow. For now, we're about to hitch a ride to Dallas. Hopefully we will be in Miami soon."

"Got it," Clara nodded. "Take care, Michael."

"You too."

…

Alex didn't know what to say Lincoln when they returned and the apartment was empty. Alex had no idea where Clara had gotten to. He shrugged, saying that she must have gone for a walk to clear her head. Lincoln didn't seem too concerned, more intrigued by the picture they had found in the house they had been to by the marina.

It had been left for them there and Alex had a sneaky suspicion that Lincoln knew his mother really was not dead. The photo had been left on purpose and it had been left for Lincoln.

"The car in the picture has Florida plates," Alex informed Lincoln as he paced behind the curved sofa Lincoln sat on. "Did you ever go to Florida?"

"No," Lincoln said.

"Know anyone from Florida."

"No," Lincoln said, taking the photo back from Mahone. "The photo has been doctored. The car is a '78 reg. Michael was born in '76."

Alex let it dawn on him then and he moved around the sofa and sat back down by Lincoln's side, pointing to him intensely as he looked to the photo again. "Then she altered the photo just for you," he muttered. "We need to find out what else she has changed. The license plate will be a good place to start."

Reading the plate out, Lincoln watched Alex type it into the search engine of the laptop before he came up with an address in Miami.

"You guys are back!" Self's voice called out and Alex looked over to them.

"We have a lead on the buyer," Alex informed them.

"Where's your pretty little girlfriend?" Bagwell wondered.

"Out," Alex answered simply, having no intention of discussing Clara with anyone.

"Listen, we need some more man power down in Little Havana. Whatever is cooking up down there ain't good."

"I'll come," Alex said, looking to Lincoln. "You going to be alright?"

"Yeah," Lincoln nodded at Alex. "I can do this myself."

As everyone continued to argue about how they should stick together. But then Alex had told Self and Bagwell that Lincoln's mother was a company agent. Lincoln insisted that his mother must have defected, but Alex didn't know if that was necessarily true. Then again, Alex didn't trust anyone.

…

Clara sat in the booth of the sushi restaurant, waiting with patience for her cousin to make herself known. She'd ordered a bottle of wine and three dishes before Lisa had walked in. Dressed in a pencil skirt and white blouse, she moved over to the booth, her large gold necklace shimmering in the light.

Looking to Clara, she saw how her cousin was still cold. "I've left," she said in a simple voice. "I…I found out what he did to your parents…and…I should have gone before, Clara. I should have gone when I found out what he had done to you."

"I don't want your excuses," Clara said, struggling not to let Lisa's wet eyes get to her. "I want to know what you know about Christina Scofield."

"She's out of the country," Lisa answered, sniffing loudly. "I think she's somewhere in Africa."

"Are you sure?" Clara wondered from her in a small voice, sipping on her wine as the food was served and they went silent for a moment. Clara moved to pour a glass of wine for Lisa who shrugged.

"I'm not sure of anything these days," she admitted to Clara.

"Michael and Lincoln had been told their mother was dead," Clara declared. "So she isn't?"

"No," Lisa said. "Why? What is it that you want to know?"

"I don't know," Clara admitted to Lisa. "And even if I did know, I wouldn't divulge that information with you. Your father is blackmailing us to get Scylla by holding the ones we love at gunpoint. How do I know you're not really spying for him, Lisa?"

"Because I can't," Lisa said, her voice hoarse as she spoke. "I want nothing to do with him anymore. I…I need you to trust me."

Clara went silent for a moment as Lisa reached out, her hand going to Clara's arm and holding it softly. "Please," Lisa said. "Clara, you asked me here for a reason-"

"-To find out about Christina Scofield," Clara interrupted. "There is nothing else that I want to discuss. As far as I am concerned we are finished, Lisa. I wanted you…needed you…when I first came to LA. I needed you and I told you everything. I trusted you and you threw it all back in my face when you picked him over me."

"I'm sorry," Lisa said once again. "Listen, whatever it is you want, I can help you. Christina Scofield…I'll dig…I have access to the files. I can find out more. Just…let me do the right thing for once. Please."

Sipping on her wine once more, Clara placed the glass down and picked up her chopsticks. "You're paying for dinner," was all she said.

Nodding, Lisa dared to let out a breath as she wondered if that was Clara's way of showing her that, maybe, there was a chance. She didn't know. All she knew was that she was relieved her cousin wasn't running away as soon as the conversation had ended.

…

Clara had called Alex from the beachside, asking him to come and meet her. He did as she had asked, the sun slowly setting as he moved down the wooden steps and onto the sand, his feet slipping in it as he made his way over to the wet part, sitting down next to her on the sunbed.

"Tell me what happened," Clara urged from Alex, sunglasses on her eyes as Alex moved his hands behind his back, supporting his weight as he leant back slightly.

"Linc's mother is the buyer," Alex told her. "He went to meet with her while I went with Self and Bagwell to Little Havana. We found weapons…a tonne of weapons and passes."

"For an event in two days?" Clara wondered from him. "Specifically the Progressive Energies Conference?"

Furrowing a brow, Alex looked to her. "I'll bite. How did you know about that?"

"Because I did some digging of my own," she informed Alex. "I met up with Lisa for dinner. She's left The Company, but she did some digging once we left. She spoke to her father and Christina is alive. Running facial recognition, she found out that she was in Miami and registered to attend a conference."

"So that's why you've been all day?" Alex asked of her.

"Were they suspicious?"

"Nah," Alex shrugged. "I told them you would need time to clear your head. I never knew you were this good at spying."

"Do you forget that I was an investigative journalist?" she asked of him in a small voice, her tone demanding as Alex chuckled but let her continue speaking. "Anyway, I don't know what she's up to, but Krantz thinks she's gone rogue and wants Scylla for herself."

"He would be correct," Alex said. "We went back to where Lincoln had gone to meet his mother earlier in the day and there was a sniper. We stopped him before he could do any damage but Christina had sent him there."

"Jesus, were you hurt?" Clara demanded from him, her hands moving to hold onto his shoulders as he shook his head at her. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Because I didn't want you there," Alex responded. "So you're right, Christina Scofield definitely is big trouble."

"Yeah," Clara said, "but I guess you figured all that out for yourself."

"Well," Alex shrugged, "at least we know she has Krantz on the ropes. And Michael? Did you get through to him?"

"Yeah," Clara said. "I called him to tell him what I'd found out. Apparently The Company sent someone after him and Sara but they escaped unharmed. They're on the way to Miami now."

"Good," Alex nodded his head.

"But I feel slightly bad about lying to Lincoln."

"We're not lying," Alex mumbled, "just concealing the truth from him. Besides, if he knew we were taking Michael's side then we'd be left out in the cold. Just don't worry about Lincoln…not right now."

Nodding, Clara moved her hands up and down her arms as the breeze caused a chill. The sleeveless long floral dress she wore whipped around her feet while they both remained perched on the sunbed. The beach was practically empty that evening, but that was for the best.

"We got the guys cell," Alex informed her. "So I've got to head back and look at that."

"Tonight?" Clara asked from him and Alex nodded.

"The sooner the better," he informed her. "But I can have ten minutes to breath. It's been a long day."

"At least you'll sleep well tonight," Clara informed him and Alex chuckled.

"True," he informed her, pulling his suit jacket from his body, moving to drape it over her shoulders. "And you really should have brought a jacket with you."

"It wasn't cold when I left," Clara protested and moved to slip her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, the smell of Alex swarming her as he watched her fold her arms and lean forwards.

"So…Lisa…" Alex broached the subject and Clara shrugged, looking down at the sand as two joggers went by them, laughing about something as they went.

"She's left The Company," Clara informed Alex. "That doesn't mean that I trust her…but…I let her buy me dinner and all she could do was say sorry for what had happened. I listened, but I didn't forgive her. I don't know if I can. I mean, I want to, Alex. I want to forgive her because she's the only family I have."

"Maybe you can trust her?" Alex wondered. "I don't know. It's your call, Clara, but I'd just be careful."

"Yeah," Clara scoffed. "It's hard to trust anyone. I get that."

"There's only one person I trust," Alex informed her. "Clara, I want to keep you safe. You get that, right?"

"Yes," Clara said, "but that doesn't mean that I'm going to sit back and let you keep on risking your life-"

"-No," Alex interrupted her after a moment. "I need you to listen to me, Clara. The envelopes this morning…the photos…I…Pam was one of them, yes…but there was another…it was you…a photo of you…"

Gulping, Clara had to admit she hadn't expected that. Saying nothing for a moment, she was shocked that her uncle had done that to her. Then again, she shouldn't be shocked. The man had proven to be merciless.

"He's not going to get me," Clara whispered to Alex.

"And I'm going to make damn sure of it," his voice was harsh as he responded to her. "Because right now, the thought of being with you…of waking up and having you bring me coffee…reading the newspaper in bed…it's the only thing keeping me going. Do you understand me?" he demanded from her and she moved then, unable to contain herself as her hands gripped his shoulders and she planted her lips firmly on his.

Alex didn't complain, choosing to move one hand to wrap around her waist, his other going to her cheek, fingertips in her hair as she moved with haste, her lips unrelenting as Alex closed his eyes tightly, savouring the feeling before she pulled back, hand slipping to his cheek as her forehead pressed against his. Both of them were silent, breathless, as they clung to each other, knowing that once they returned to the apartment this brief moment of peace they felt would be shattered.

...

A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner, but do let me know what you think!