Chapter Three

"If the Secret Service is looking for me," Jaime said logically, "they're probably looking for you, too."

"They are," Steve confirmed. "But their orders are to take me in alive. Jaime...from what Oscar said, they're looking for just about any excuse to shoot you."

"Was that the first phone call, or the one you made just now?"

"The first. Wait a minute. How do you even know about that call? You were still in the trunk of the car, and - oh. Never mind." Sometimes Steve still forgot just how well Jaime could hear. He had used one of the agency's larger cars, which he'd chosen for the roominess of the trunk, and that was where he'd hidden Jaime until they were well outside of Los Angeles. When they switched to a second car that Steve had arranged to have waiting for them, he'd had her lie down in the backseat, covered with a blanket up to her chin, until he was sure they were traveling alone.

"What I'm trying to tell you," Steve said gently, "is that if they found me, I'd be arrested. If they found you..." He was unable to voice the words, but Jaime understood.

"What about Oscar?" she asked. "What'll happen to him?"

"He doesn't want you to worry about that. In fact, he specifically asked me not to tell you they were detaining him, but you were about to call his office and would've ended up with the NSB on the other end and, well, that left me with no other choice but to tell you."

Jaime thought about that. The blanks were all filled in now. She'd heard Steve's half of the conversation but hadn't been able to hear Oscar. Now that she knew what he'd done, it tore her apart.

"Steve, could you hand me the phone, please?"

"For what?"

Jaime picked up the receiver herself. "I'm gonna call and let them know where to find me."

Steve ripped the phone from her hand, more forcefully than he'd intended. "Like hell, you are!" he said, slamming the receiver into its cradle. He looked at Jaime, saw the fresh, new fear in her eyes and softened, encircling her in his strong but very tender embrace. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart, but I can't let you do that," he told her, much more quietly. Jaime melted into his arms and found that she instantly felt calm, safe and protected.

"You and Oscar - you're both risking so much," she whispered, finally daring - for the first time all day - to look directly into his eyes. The strong, pure love she still saw there, after so many months apart, completely overwhelmed her and brought her own eyes to tears.

"Jaime, it's because we both care about you so much. We know you didn't do what they're trying to say you did. You're not a thief, you are definitely not a cold-blooded killer and I know there's no possibility - at all - that you'd ever betray your country." He brushed the tears from her eyes before they had a chance to hit her cheeks. "This is probably our only chance to prove it."

"Thank you," Jaime said softly, her arms finally completely around Steve's body as well. The two of them had formed a near-perfect circle where, for one brief moment, their souls became re-acquainted and entwined together before reality hit and they were back to the present.

"I'd better get started," Steve said reluctantly, forcing back the urge to kiss her, but not quite ready to let her go yet.

Jaime, feeling the identical urge, didn't fight it. Tilting her face toward his, she brushed his lips with her own, then let them linger there for a stronger, real kiss. "Please be careful, Steve."

He nodded. "And you...Can I trust you to stay in the house and off the phone?"

"Yes."

Steve caressed her cheek once more before breaking away. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Hopefully tonight, but even if it takes longer, stay here - please? And try to get some rest."

"Ok." Jaime watched out the window as he walked through the thick rows of trees toward where they'd hidden the car. She fully understood now how she'd originally fallen so deeply in love, so long ago.

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Steve returned just after 4am, opening the door silently, hoping Jaime had somehow managed to fall asleep.

"Hi," she said, from the easy chair in the darkened living room.

Steve turned on a table lamp. "How come you're sitting in the dark?"

"Just thinking. Did you find anything?"

"No. The files you really needed were probably destroyed in the explosion, so this won't be easy, but I'm fairly certain I'm on the right track. I put the word out that I'm looking to talk to Naud."

"You think he was behind all of this?"

"No," Steve clarified. "It was Hatch; it had to be."

"You sound pretty sure -"

"Who would've been the one to realize the decoder didn't work? Its inventor. I mean, he wouldn't have gone to his assistant and said 'I made a piece of junk. What do we do?' Wouldn't make sense. It had to be Doctor Hatch."

"Sounds reasonable," Jaime agreed. "So why are you looking for Naud?"

"Maybe he can tell me something useful about his former boss." Steve smiled reassuringly. "This'll be over even sooner than we thought. Right now, though, I'd feel a lot better if you'd at least try to get a little rest."

Jaime nodded, and they shared one quiet, gentle kiss before heading off to their bedrooms, both of them too restless to even try to sleep.

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Steve decided to get an early start, heading out the door before 7am. A sleepy voice called to him from the kitchen. "Want some coffee first?"

He accepted a steaming mug and thanked her. He was still surprised by the torrential flood of emotion he felt, just by being near her. They sat together for a few minutes, quietly sipping, completely comfortable together. Steve kissed her once more, holding her for just a beat too long - although she wasn't complaining - before turning to go.

"Any luck, and I'll have Hatch behind bars and be back before dinnertime to take you home."

They shared one more lingering glance and exactly the same spoken thought:

"Be careful."

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After an hour, Jaime forced herself to stop pacing like a caged lion and sank into the easy chair to try and relax. She'd almost managed to fall asleep when she was startled by a very loud knock on the door. Her heart stopped for a few moments, but she knew the NSB wouldn't be knocking; they'd break down the door. Oscar? Had they released him, after all? Suddenly excited, she opened to the door. The man on the stoop was not Oscar Goldman. He was Doctor Ellis Hatch.

"Miss Sommers? You and I really must talk."

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