Author's Note: You guys are the greatest. I'm so happy you like my smut! I just can't seem to help myself. But at the same time, I don't want to drag the entire fic down into the gutter and just make it a sex-fest. (I can do that with other fics, right?)

Anyway... I wanted to give a special shout-out to a few people who've been helping me brainstorm and squee recently. lurkingwhump, snapdragon83 and gypsyscarfwoman have been very helpful on Tumblr at various points, either when I've been stuck or as smut consultants. Spiigrl, Ishd, kyoko-minion and blindspot-overwatch have also been very fun to talk to over PM on this site. To my regular reviewers (you all know who you are), I adore you all! I'd also like to thank the guest reviewers who I don't get to talk to directly, because you guys don't have accounts that I can reply to your reviews at. But your comments make me smile!

The team was able to arrest the woman who'd murdered the two museum gallery patrons the next day, and follow the trail of clues to close the case by early evening. Weller had kept himself so busy that he'd had no time to dwell on last night with Jane, but after he'd thanked everyone for their hard work and dismissed them all for the night, he returned to his office to begin his daily paperwork. It was then that everything caught up with him.

Jane had actually been playful at times last night—smiling, teasing him with her words and actions both, provoking and enticing him even as she tried to piss him off. He didn't know what was going on in her head—didn't even know if she knew—but at times he could almost have believed that she'd forgiven him. That she was slowly moving past the trauma of her arrest.

At times, though, she'd slammed down so hard on her emotions that he'd been left in the cold without warning. After her first orgasm had left her almost unable to stand without his support, he'd offered to take her to bed and continue going down on her, but she'd diverted him towards his own pleasure with an inexplicable sadness. He'd wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but her earlier words had been a warning.

I'd rather you fucked with my body than my mind.

On one level, he understood. During her torture, she'd closed off her thoughts and endured everything her torturers had inflicted upon her body. She wasn't ready to let herself be vulnerable again, especially not since he'd damaged her trust in their relationship so badly when he'd arrested her. She'd let herself accept the pleasure he gave her, but wouldn't let him break through her barriers to the intimacy he really craved.

You broke my heart, Weller.

But it hurt to think she was shutting him out. That she'd trust him to see her naked, to touch her inside and out, yet wouldn't connect with him on an emotional level.

He sighed and adjusted the stack of papers in front of him, not seeing any of the details on the top sheet, no matter how much he craved the distraction from his thoughts.

After she'd ridden him to an intense climax in her kitchen, she'd draped herself over him, her face pressed against his neck while she'd calmed down. The occasional quiver of an aftershock had rippled through her, sending frissons of pleasure through him in turn, though he was too spent to do anything about it except for hold her more securely against him.

When he'd been reasonably confident he could stand up without spilling them both to the floor, Kurt had urged Jane up from his lap while he dealt with the condom. When he'd turned around from throwing it in the trash, she'd immediately stepped back into his arms, giving him a soft, lingering kiss that had been yearning and sweet and sad all at once. He'd lost himself in it, in the way she'd cupped his face with one hand and his neck with the other. In the small, appreciative noise she'd made when he'd gathered her closer, deepening the kiss and pouring into it all of the love she wasn't ready to hear that he felt.

She'd broken away just as he'd started considering letting his hands wander again. Breathless, she'd turned her head to end the kiss, resting her hands on his chest to push gently back from his embrace.

"Goodnight, Kurt," she'd murmured—the first time he could remember her using his first name since he'd told her about the tooth isotope result. Then she'd retreated into her bedroom without a backward glance, the playfulness of earlier that night nowhere to be found now.

It had felt like more than a goodnight—almost a goodbye. He'd almost decided to sleep on her couch to make sure she didn't disappear in the middle of the night, before he'd realised how completely unreasonable and stalker-like that would have been. So he'd gone home, though he hadn't slept well.

Jane had been at work on time this morning, a little subdued but focused on their case. She hadn't run off, the way his instincts had irrationally predicted she would. So what the hell was going on with her? Was it just another symptom of her PTSD that she needed to work through?

Or did she—

"Weller." Nas was standing in the doorway to his office, appearing hesitant.

"Come in. Have a seat." He shook himself out of his gloom and made himself focus on the woman in front of him.

She did so, smiling faintly. "You looked like you were a million miles away."

"Not too far off." He waited for her to take a seat before asking, "What's on your mind?"

Nas almost looked abashed. "There's something I haven't told you. I've been waiting for the right moment."

Every errant thought about Jane fled his mind. "What are you talking about?"

"I wanted to wait, get a sense of your personality and your loyalties before I came to you with this."

"For God's sake, Nas. Keeping secrets from each other is what screwed my team up in the first place. I need to know everything you're not telling me about this case. Now."

"It's just the one thing, actually. And it's specific to you, personally." She hesitated, then said, "It's probably easier to show you, if you want to come down to the annex—"

"Let's go, then."

The atmosphere between them was tense as they walked through SIOC, side by side. Reade and Zapata shot them curious glances as they passed, but seemed to have their own drama they were working through. If it had anything to do with why Reade was so touchy lately, Weller hoped they could work through it.

Jane was just leaving Zero Division as they got there, and Kurt almost barrelled into her.

"Sorry," he said automatically, reaching out to steady her.

"It's okay." Jane looked from him to Nas, taking in their serious expressions. "Everything all right?"

"It's fine," Nas said. "I thought you had a session with Borden?"

"I'm just heading there now," Jane said slowly, her curiosity morphing into suspicion. "Is something going on that I should know about?" Or that you don't want me to know about? her body language added, though she refrained from actually adding the words.

"I have no idea. Nas needs to show me something she's been holding back."

"He can fill you in later if and when he deems it appropriate," Nas said. "But it's important that Weller sees it first."

Jane nodded, but the distrust didn't quite fade from her eyes. "I'll get going, then."

Kurt watched her go for a second, shaking his head. "You did not handle that well."

"You'll understand why when I've shown you." Nas moved past him into Zero division and began to call up folders on one of the wall screens, searching for something. "Do you remember I told you I had a contact inside Sandstorm? Who tipped me off about Jane being on the way to Times Square? Before he went dark, he managed to tell me you're an integral part of Sandstorm's plan."

"That's hardly news. My name's tattooed on Jane's back."

"He also sent me this." Nas called up a video file.

Kurt watched in stunned silence as he watched grainy footage of his teenage self graduating from Liberty Military Academy. "Sandstorm had this?"

"Shepherd's been watching you for a lot longer than you think."

"No kidding." His anger at Nas' secretive behaviour dissipating for the moment, Kurt stared at the last, frozen frame of his own face. "Why? Why would Shepherd have been watching me since I was a kid? It makes no sense. I wasn't with the FBI at the time. I had no law enforcement connections at all. I didn't come from a family of cops or anything that might have made me a target."

He looked over at Nas. "This contact. Did he give you anything else, anything that could put this in context?"

"Nothing." Apologetically, she shook her head. "I was hoping you might have had the missing puzzle piece. Maybe we could look into that period of your life together, see if we can find anything that might point in the right direction?"

He nodded distractedly, staring at the screen. "I'll pull my old yearbooks and paperwork out of storage, bring them in. We can go through everything."

"Are you going to tell Jane?"

He nodded, without a doubt in his mind. "Last time I kept information from Jane about this case, Mayfair ended up dead. I'm not gonna make the same mistake twice."

Not only that, but he found himself wanting to sit and talk about this with Jane, alone, away from Nas or anyone else. To spend time with her, throw around theories, try to make sense of it all. Maybe she'd recover a memory based on this; probably not, but either way, it didn't matter. He just needed her to know.

Jane had tried to concentrate on her session with Borden, but whatever was going on with Nas and Weller had kept getting in the way. She'd managed to discuss her frustration at her latest arm injury and talk about her nightmares a little, but she knew her therapist had sensed her distraction. She'd felt compelled to apologise at the end of their session, though she hadn't been able to explain why she'd been so unfocused.

Borden had taken it in stride, telling her they'd pick it up next time and not to worry. Now Jane was heading back to Zero Division, intent on finding out what information Nas had been hiding from them, whether it was from Nas' lips or Weller's.

Zero Division was deserted; not a surprise, given that her session with Borden had lasted ninety minutes, and the team had solved a case earlier in the day. Wondering if Weller was still in his office, she made a beeline for SIOC.

There were a few people still milling around, finishing up tasks, but not with any kind of urgency. The light in Weller's office was still on, though the slats on the blind next to his desk were down. She assumed he was still there, but until she opened the door, she wouldn't know for sure.

She tapped on the door gently, then cracked it open to peek through the gap. "Hey. Got a minute?"

"Jane. I figured you'd come by." Weller was at his desk, but didn't seem to be doing anything important. A bottle of scotch and a tumbler were on the desk, which indicated he was done with work for the day.

It wasn't until she'd closed the door and approached the desk that she realised he wasn't just having one drink. He was visibly intoxicated. Not rolling drunk, but she could pick up the subtle signs that he was on his way there.

It was similar enough to the way he'd looked on the night of her arrest to send a quiver of unease through her.

"You…don't look good," she said tentatively.

He gave a short, humourless laugh and poured some more scotch. "'s 'cause I'm not."

When he put down the bottle, Jane leaned across and grabbed it—not to drink, but to confiscate from him. He'd clearly already had enough, at least for the office.

"Want me to find you a glass?"

"That depends on what you tell me. What did Nas say?"

"Sandstorm has a video of me graduating from military school. Apparently, your mom has been watching me for half of my life, and I didn't have a clue."

A shiver ran down Jane's spine. "That's…creepy."

He looked amused, in a desolate kind of way. "Yeah. It really is."

"That explains how Remi knew who you were, I guess." She turned the bottle around in her hands, just for something to do. His intoxication was still making her nervous.

"I don't get it, Jane. I thought my name was on your back so I'd get your case, and then you'd have access to Mayfair. But back then, I hadn't even decided if I was going to Quantico or the police academy. They'd have no reason to watch me. Unless Shepherd was prematurely sizing me up as a date for your senior prom…"

She laughed bitterly at the thought. "And the whole tattoo thing is some kind of elaborate matchmaking attempt? Thanks, Shepherd, but I could have done without the ZIP."

Weller produced a second glass from somewhere. "Think you could use one too."

"I think you're right." She poured a modest measure of alcohol, then capped the bottle and put it on the floor at the side of her chair. "If you weren't paranoid about phase two before, you are now, right?"

He frowned into his glass as if it held all the answers. "What do they want from me, Jane? That's what I can't figure out. I feel like there's this huge puzzle piece missing right in the middle of the picture, and all I can see around the edges are the bodies of all the people who are gonna die if I don't figure it out."

Oh, Kurt… Her anxiety melted away, her heart aching at the weight that he must feel on his shoulders.

"We've got your back, Weller. Me, Nas, the team…we'll figure this out together. I'll see what I can get out of Roman. Patterson can work her magic in the lab. Nas can spy on everyone with her illegal satellites or whatever. Zapata and Reade can chase down some leads and bust some heads. Then we can all go and beat the crap out of Sandstorm and get this over with."

He smiled. "I've got your back, too."

"You're literally on my back," she pointed out, and took a sip of her scotch.

"At least it's just my name and not a picture of my face."

She couldn't help but snicker. "How much of that bottle have you drunk in the past hour?"

"More than I should have," he admitted, and leaned over to pour the remainder of his glass into hers.

"You're getting a cab home, right? You're not driving?" She sounded like a mother hen, she knew, but she couldn't help herself.

"You should drive me home," he said. "I'll make us dinner. You can crash on the couch. Or in my bed. Wherever you're comfortable."

Jane could only stare at him, confused. Yesterday he'd said they wouldn't be sleeping together again, but now he was asking her over to his place?

Taking the decision out of her hands, her pager beeped in her pocket.

"That's Roman. Guess I should get going." She grabbed her glass and downed the rest of the booze, then gasped through the burn, her eyes watering. "I'll see what I can find out," she added, when she could speak again.

"Be careful," Weller told her. "If it seems like you're in dangerous territory, back off. I don't want you blowing your cover over this."

"I'm always careful." She headed for the door, her head spinning slightly with the alcohol. Probably shouldn't have finished that drink, though. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jane."