Author's Note: Okay, so... This chapter can be summed up by the phrase 'emotional smut'. I considered making it a separate fic so it didn't slow the story down, but then I figured it ties up the tattoo issue, updates the Cade situation and also shows that Jane isn't dealing as well as she'd like, so it belongs here, really. Also, this will be the last smut in this fic for quiiiiite a few chapters, because some stuff is about to hit the fan. ;D

Jane returned to her safehouse with a light step and relief in her heart. Roman had told her that Cade was nowhere to be found, and though Jane had feigned anger and disappointment, even throwing in a little self-recrimination, her actual feelings were very different. No matter where Cade was now, she hoped he was keeping low and healing. She doubted he had his own equivalent of Kurt to get him through his trauma, but she was in no position to help even if she did know where to find him.

Her cover story for her upcoming trip had been mainly the truth: that the team had unexpectedly come across a lead on a cold case, and had offered to manufacture a temporary identity for her so that she could come and assist. She'd explained that since she knew the language, the team had decided she'd be an asset worth taking along.

Roman had told her to enjoy her time in Bulgaria and excused himself not long after, looking apologetic and a little uncomfortable. Jane assumed Shepherd was still riding him hard to find her escaped prisoner. He'd refused to answer when Jane had asked about the atmosphere between him and their mother.

But that was only a small shadow compared to the news she'd feared she'd be facing. Cade had made it out. Their plan had worked, and now he had a chance to make a new life for himself—hopefully one that didn't revolve around violence and death. That was what really mattered.

And now she got to spend the night with Kurt. Jane pushed down the slight quiver of unease that she might not be ready for what she'd asked him to do to her, focused on her anticipation at seeing him, and pushed open the door to her apartment.

The living room was dark, but Kurt's jacket was draped over the arm of the couch, and light shone from the bedroom doorway. Curious what he was up to, she peeked around the doorframe to find him sitting in the chair in the corner, her huge coffee-table book on the history of weaponry open in his lap.

"Hey. How'd it go?" He snapped the book shut and replaced it on her shelf before crossing the room.

"Cade got away. Roman told me to have fun in Bulgaria." She stepped into his embrace, looping her arms around his neck. "But I don't want to talk about that."

Pulling her tighter against him, Kurt asked, "You still want what we talked about earlier?"

A lesser man would have just whipped out the cuffs without asking. Jane loved that Kurt was always so careful to check her limits; her earlier doubts diminished to almost nothing.

"I've had choices taken from me so much, recently. At first, I needed to keep whatever control I had left, no matter what. Last night, when I realised I wanted to give that control to you for a little while, I was surprised, too. But this is different. This is my choice, and it's because I trust you. I'm not totally sure I can handle it, but I want to try. If you want to."

Was it her imagination, or did he stand taller somehow, accepting the responsibility she was holding out to him?

"Whenever you need to stop, just ask."

"Is my safeword still 'mercy'?" She kissed her way across his jawline, wanting to provoke him into action. The chemistry between them was building fast, but he was holding back, making sure he understood what she needed.

"Yeah." He pulled up her shirt, and she lifted her arms to let him strip it off. Her sports bra soon followed, but he made no move to touch or kiss her just yet. "But the aim isn't to make you use it this time. It's for you to use if you're panicking." His eyes grew troubled. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Jane. I can't, not even if you ask me to do it. Not after everything you've been through."

She smiled. "That's why I know I'm safe with you. Don't worry. I don't want you to do anything you don't want, either."

His relief was plain in his kiss, and she sensed he'd been worrying he wouldn't be able to give her what she needed. Nothing could have been further from the truth; she didn't need anything he didn't willingly want to give her.

"Take off the rest of your clothes," he murmured against her lips.

Anticipation kicking in, Jane pulled off her boots one by one, then turned her back to Kurt. After pushing her pants and underwear down over her hips, she bent at the waist to remove everything she was wearing, then straightened up to glance over her shoulder and check his reaction.

She caught a glimpse of his appreciative gaze on her ass before he moved in to press against her, his body heat warming her even through his clothing. His hands slid over her hips, down to rest on her inner thighs, not touching where she longed to feel him but making her aware of all the possibilities this night held.

Kurt kissed her neck softly, knowing it made her knees weak. "I know you didn't choose the tattoos," he said between kisses, his husky voice turning her on even more, "but they look so damn good on you."

Jane smiled and turned in his arms. "Which one is your favourite?"

A light touch skimmed over his name between her shoulder blades. "I know it makes me a possessive bastard, but this one."

"Hmm… Maybe I shouldn't get rid of it, then."

The look in his eyes was at once heated, hopeful and ashamed of that hope. "It's your choice, Jane. It's your body. But—"

She kissed away his words, knowing what was in his mind. Part of her was ashamed of liking the fact that his name was branded on her body, too. But, even though she'd railed against it while she'd been furious at him, he was important enough to her that it felt right. And covering it up would only feel like denying what was between them, now that they'd found their way to each other.

"I'll keep it. You're a part of me, just like the tattoos are. I don't know who I'd be without you."

"If you're sure…"

"I'm sure." She took advantage of his distraction to pull off his shirt. Maybe he'd planned to stay fully dressed while he 'arrested' her, but she had other plans.

Once his shirt was clear of his head, he kissed her again, and she tasted every drop of his territorial lust on his lips, as if every time his mouth came down on hers, he was saying, Mine. Only mine. All mine.

She'd felt that before, from Oscar, but it wasn't the same. He'd been desperately trying to cling to a love that wasn't reciprocated. Remi had loved him, but Jane didn't. His possessiveness had felt like a command and an expectation, too weighty to be sexy, though the other things he did made up for it at the time.

Kurt's possessiveness felt like validation; his unspoken 'you are mine' resonating perfectly with her soul's silent 'I am yours'. Not only that, but she knew that if she turned the tables, her own kisses insisting that he was hers, she would receive his complete agreement in return. They belonged to each other.

Before she could test that theory, he drew back and spoke words that used to make her curl into herself in despair. "Turn around. Get down on your knees. Put your hands behind your head."

It was different this time—so different. Sure, for an instinctive second before logic kicked in, there was a moment where terror took hold. But that was part of the reason she was doing this—to fight that part of her that still twisted the moment Kurt had arrested her into her nightmares. Last night she had dreamed he'd put the cuffs on her for torturing Cade. It had brought back all the fears she'd thought she'd beaten, even though she knew she had Kurt's complete support.

But now, looking into his face—seeing his desire and concern mingled as he waited for her to either comply or speak her safeword—her fears faded almost completely. That terrible moment was in the past. This night was to create a better memory that she could use as a defence against her trauma. And she was ready to get started.

Slowly, she took a pace backward, turned her back to Kurt again, then dropped to her knees with as much grace as she could muster. After taking a moment to breathe, she laced her fingers together behind her head and closed her eyes.

The clink of Kurt's cuffs made her flinch just for a moment, reminding her of that night, but again, he changed everything. He knelt behind her, took one of her wrists in his gentle grip and kissed it before applying the cuff. The quiet click as the restraint closed made her heart skip with excitement, not fear, and as he repeated the motions with her other wrist—hold, kiss, cuff—her lips curved into a smile despite her nervousness.

Once he had her cuffed, her hands resting at the small of her back, Kurt wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her backwards into his lap. "Jane Doe," he murmured, "You are under arrest for stealing my heart."

He wasn't even trying to be serious. She loved his intensity during sex, but she also loved it when he laughed, and this was the perfect mix of the two. She couldn't help but laugh, wanting to roll her eyes at the ridiculous comment, and she knew that was exactly why he'd said it. The next time he arrested a criminal in front of her, she'd think only of this moment. God, I love you, Kurt.

She could play the struggling, unrepentant criminal, but she wasn't really the roleplay type. She did enough acting when she was undercover to want to bring it into her sex life. Now, she spoke the truth. "Given the chance, I'd do it again."

Kurt breathed silent laughter against her ear, then nipped her earlobe. "Bad girl."

With a little more wriggling, Jane managed to get her bound hands close enough to Kurt's hard-on to cop a feel, gratified by the way his breathing hitched at her touch. "Maybe I'd do it a little differently. But I'd definitely do it again."

"Hmm…" Kurt's touch slid up from her stomach to her breasts, his fingers barely skimming her nipples. Every momentary brush of his skin against them was electric, and she made a tiny, frustrated noise as he refused to give her anything more. Why did she love this so much, even though he made her so impatient?

She tried to get a proper grip on his zipper, but Kurt lifted her off his lap before she could do anything. He pulled her up onto her feet and supported her until she got her balance, then stepped back.

"You are so damn beautiful."

Thankful she didn't blush easily, Jane let her gaze wander over him in return. When she'd first seen him, she'd had no inkling that his presence in her life would become so vital to her, but she'd still found him attractive amidst her confusion and distress. Watching him now, shirtless and obviously hard for her beneath his jeans, she was completely aware of how important he was to her, and her sexual frustration was off the scale.

"Kurt…"

"Don't rush me." He cupped her face in his hand and gave her a lingering kiss. "Now, I have absolutely no cause to take you to the NYO, so I have to ask. Do you want out of the cuffs?"

Jane tested the restraints, trying to get a feel for her comfort level. As long as she focused on now, on Kurt, on the support he was offering, she would be okay. There was a part of her mind that tried to serve up distressing memories of her arrest and captivity, but she stubbornly held them at bay.

"I'm coping," she said. "Or at least, I will be if you keep me distracted…"

Kurt smiled. "I think I can do that. Take a step backward and sit on the bed."

Carefully, knowing she couldn't put out her hands to save herself if she fell, Jane managed to do what he'd asked.

As soon as she was fully settled, Kurt came forward to kneel between her legs. For a moment, Jane was struck by how submissive he looked, almost worshipful. He was the one who'd put the cuffs on her, but she was the one in control here. One word from her, and he'd release her immediately.

Then her brain shorted out completely as Kurt pressed his lips to her clit in a soft, playful kiss.

She fell backward to rest her weight on her elbows, draping one leg over his shoulder and bracing her other heel against the mattress. He was so much more than just distracting—he was provocative, maddening, bringing her right to the edge of orgasm but then pulling away before she could tip over the edge. Just as she came down enough to remember how to gasp a frustrated curse, he started again, his talented fingers and tongue making her moan in purely carnal appreciation.

Four times, he brought her to the edge and backed off—or was it five? She didn't know or care anymore. She pulled at her cuffs, wishing more than anything that she could break free and make him finish what he'd started, but without something to use as a lock-pick, she was powerless.

She struggled against the restraints again, and Keaton's mocking face flashed into her mind. Her desperation in this moment was worlds away from the despair she'd endured back then—as she'd wrenched at her cuffs on her way to be tortured—but there were enough common elements to trigger the association in her traumatised brain.

"Kurt, I'm not okay."

It wasn't the safeword they'd agreed on, but within a couple of seconds she was in his arms, one of the cuffs unsnapping—had he had the key in his hand this whole time?—and his voice softly speaking words of comfort she could barely register.

She blinked back tears and clung to him, her panicked adrenaline quickly fading as he soothed her, until she felt as though she'd overreacted and drew back to apologise. "Kurt, I—"

"I'm sorry, Jane."

With a shock, she realised he was blaming himself—for something that she'd pushed herself to do through her own overconfidence.

"No, I'm sorry. It wasn't you, it was the cuffs. I struggled and it just…reminded me of the black site." Jane shook her head. "Up until then, I was right where you wanted me."

He cupped her face in his hands and brushed away tears from her eyelashes. "I shouldn't have held out on you."

"You didn't know. We didn't know. But now we do." Jane kissed him, reassuring them both.

"Here. Let me get this." Kurt took hold of her wrist, about to release the second cuff, but she stopped him, determined to salvage something from the mess she'd made of tonight.

"I have a better idea." Slowly, giving him plenty of time to object, she placed the vacant cuff around his wrist and snapped it shut, shackling his left wrist to her right.

"You good?" he asked, tilting up her chin to search her face.

She nodded. "I still want you. If I didn't completely ruin the mood—"

Kurt interrupted her with a brief, hungry kiss. "It's gonna be a little difficult taking off my pants with my wrist cuffed, but if you can help…"

"I think I'm up for that challenge," she teased, feeling her world re-stabilise with every second that passed.

It was surprisingly sexy to drag down his zipper with the hand that was tethered to his. She couldn't help but take his cock in that same hand, her stroking motion dragging his wrist along with hers. The novelty of that moment helped to ground her, and his sigh of pleasure definitely helped, as well.

Somehow, they managed to get his remaining clothes off, laughing at how clumsy they were. When Jane straddled his lap and reached down to guide him deep inside her, Kurt groaned against her lips. "I never get tired of being this close to you."

She tried to wrap her arms around his neck, then burst out laughing again as she almost twisted Kurt's arm off in the process. "You know, this was a sexy idea, but it's kind of awkward, too."

Kurt rested his cuffed hand over her heart, and there was just enough slack in the cuffs for her to reach his chest in return. "Sexy and awkward. Isn't that our whole MO?"

Jane rested her head on his shoulder and kissed his neck gently. "Gonna help me to fuck you now?" she asked, intentionally using filthy language to drive him crazy.

His free hand tightened on her ass, the barest hint of a growl in his voice as he told her, "Yes, ma'am."

It was harder to ride him without using both hands to brace herself against his shoulders, and he only had one hand to support her as she moved. But their laughter as he fell backwards onto his back, her discovery that she could pin his arm to the bed to support herself, and his appreciative groan as she found a steady, seductive rhythm in their new position made the awkwardness worth it.

She finally took the orgasm he'd held back from her, her back arching sinuously with pleasure as she savoured each ebbing pulse of the climax. When she recovered her senses, Kurt was gazing at her with such heat and tenderness that an extra shiver tingled through her.

"Worth the wait?" he asked, pulling her down for a kiss.

"Mmmm…" She bucked against him lazily, still coming down. "Your turn now."

He hesitated. "I don't know if I should pin you down right now."

His caution was touching, but totally unnecessary. "Trust me."

Kurt rolled her onto her back easily. Amidst the sudden disorientation, she caught a glimpse of his grin, but then she was lost in the rhythm of his quick, powerful thrusts, digging her heels into his ass and lacing the fingers of her cuffed hand through his as they rocked together. Nothing else in the world mattered at that moment except his body against her, inside her, his heat and scent and presence surrounding her. As he lost control and ground his hips hard against hers, his body shuddering with release, she cried out along with him, his ecstasy the tipping point she needed to get off again.

"How do you feel?" Kurt asked, a few minutes later.

"Better. I really am sorry for—"

"No, Jane." He gazed down at her, eyes concerned but his expression firm. "You never have to apologise for that."

Her body was still resonant with satisfaction, her mind still lazy from residual pleasure. If she'd had the will to argue, she probably would have, but she couldn't muster the energy. "Okay."

He unlocked the cuffs—first hers, then his—and set them on the nightstand, the key on top of them. Together, they slid under the bedcovers and wrapped their arms around each other, holding tight.

"This isn't the first time I've been in your bed," Kurt confessed.

Jane drew back to look at him, confused. "When…?"

"Technically, I was on your bed, I guess. While you were…away. I came here to prove to myself that I didn't miss you, and ended up lying here, thinking about how your pillow still smelled like you."

"But you didn't miss me," she teased lightly, though her heart squeezed as she imagined the heartbroken anger he must have felt at a situation he had yet to fully comprehend.

"Not even a tiny bit," he said, amusement in his eyes.

"I missed you, too," Jane confessed. "Every day."

"We're here now," he said, stroking her hair back from her eyes.

"A little worse for wear, but…"

"I don't care. I want all of you. Even the damaged parts."

"Thank you," she whispered, blinking rapidly to stave off tears.

They fell asleep holding hands, the cuffs discarded but their bond strengthened.