I had no idea there were different versions of playing Crazy Eights until I looked it up. The version described in this chapter is how I was taught as a kid. Happy reading, and if you have time to leave a review, I'd be very grateful :)

Emily waited while Frank opened the door of the safe house. He went in first to check and then came back for her. She stepped inside and noticed how bare the walls were. She guessed it would be silly to have home decor in a place that was barely used. She was glad they ate before getting here as there didn't appear to be any food in the place.

Frank went to turn some more lights on, and she went to find a comfortable place to sit. Frank found her on the couch a few moments later.

"I'm so on edge," she admitted when he sat down in the recliner next to her.

"They shouldn't find us here," Frank said. "Tarconi's car was clean. I checked it. This place is under a fake name, and I haven't been here since the day I bought it."

"I miss my normal life," Emily lamented.

"This will be over soon enough, and then you can get back to your normal life," he promised. Emily looked at him earnestly. She realized that when this was over, she'd never see him again, and that somehow bothered her greatly.

"When is the last time that was changed?" he asked, gesturing to her arm. She looked at it.

"It hasn't. Not since you put it on," she answered.

"Let's deal with it then," he said, getting up. "No need for you to get an infection."

She followed him to the bathroom, and she stood in front of the vanity while he searched his cupboard and pulled out cleaning supplies and new bandages. She stood still when he moved in front of her and started to pull off her old bandage. She grunted in pain a little, not realizing how much it hurt until it was prodded.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay."

He worked fast. She had to look away after a while. She didn't do well with blood and tissue and stuff. She did enjoy the feel of his hands on her skin, though.

"All set," he said, finishing off.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"No problem," he smiled back.

She watched him put everything away. When he was done, there was a moment where they just stood there looking at each other until he cleared his throat and turned to leave. Emily didn't know why she felt disappointed. She barely knew him, and yet she felt so close to him. It made no sense. She found him back in the living room.

"So," she said, crossing her legs and leaning back into the couch. "You were in the military?"

"Tarconi tell you that?" he asked.

"Yes."

Frank nodded slowly, and she wondered if he would tell her more or change the subject. She wanted to know more.

"I guess I can't deny it then, can I?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Yea, I did military work," he confirmed.

"What kind?"

"The classified kind."

"SAS?" she asked. She had to know. Was it possible that her so called father knew Frank? He hadn't shown any recognition at the house, though, when he was talking to Frank.

"Yea," he nodded.

"Do you know...?"

"Yea," he nodded again.

"Why didn't he say anything?" she questioned, confused.

"I don't know," he shook his head. "That is as big of a mystery to me as it is to you."

"I don't even know what to think about him anymore," Emily confessed. "He was the world to me. It was just me and him, you know? Then I find out that my real parents were killed. So what happened to me? Was I in foster care? Was I kidnapped? Who am I?!"

"You're Emily," Frank answered. "That didn't change despite who raised you."

"I just feel so...lost," she said. "Afraid. Alone. Abandoned."

He didn't reply as she sat there thinking. She was tired of thinking. She didn't want to do it anymore. She looked at Frank, who was looking at her, and she wondered if he ever felt this way.

"Why do you transport things?" she asked. If she got the topic off of herself, then it might help.

"People need things transported," he answered logically.

"I bet half of it is illegal things."

"You're probably right. I wouldn't know. I don't look in the package."

"Never?"

When he paused, she smiled. Of course he had.

"What was it?" she asked.

"What was what?"

"The package you looked at," she answered.

"Except for you, I've never looked..."

"Oh, stop lying," she interrupted. "It's all over your face. What was it?"

"A girl," he answered. She stared at him.

"A girl? How the hell did you not know it was a girl?!"

"It was a duffel bag that they put in my trunk," he shrugged. "When I had to change my flat tire, the bag moved when I pushed it aside. Then I felt bad and got something for them to drink, and it was a girl. She caused me nothing but trouble since."

"What happened to her?"

"Her father was trafficking people. She wanted to stop him. I got roped into it, and Tarconi and I rescued a lot of people."

"Wow," Emily said, smiling. "Sounds like a happy ending."

"It was," he agreed.

"Have you ever seen her again?"

"No."

"Have you ever been married?" she asked.

"No."

"Any kids?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"No," Frank answered, raising his brow a little. "What's with all the questions?"

"I'm trying not to think about my current situation," Emily answered. "I don't want to think about my job either. I don't want to talk about me at all."

"We don't have to talk," he pointed out.

"So what do we do then?" she asked. He opened the drawer of the small table next to him and pulled out a deck of cards.

"How good are you at Crazy Eights?" he asked.

"I will mop the floor with you," she answered.

"Oh, you think so, do you?"

"I know so."

"Show me what you got then," he mocked, tossing down cards as he dealt. They both moved to sit on the floor at the coffee table to save themselves from stretching all the time. Emily wasted no time slaughtering him as soon as the game started, and she ended up in stitches from laughing after a while because Frank's antics were too funny.

"Nooo," she said, throwing her hand down on top of his when he tried to put four cards down. "Try again."

"These are the cards I'm putting down," he insisted.

"I don't like it."

"I know. That's the point," he laughed, wrestling his hand out from under hers and leaving the cards there.

"Take them back," she insisted, trying to give them back to him.

"No way," Frank said, moving her hands away and making her put them back on the pile. "I don't think so, missy. Pick up eight."

"I refuse," she sniffed.

"You'll pick up eight and deal with it," he smirked. She grumbled as she did so, and then her face changed. She looked at him, grinning wide.

"Oh no," he said, realizing what it meant. "No..."

"Pick up 13!" she crowed, throwing down the queen of spades on top of the two of spades.

"Damn you!" he exclaimed. She started to laugh hard at his horrified face. He reached over to shove her, and she fell backwards, still laughing. He couldn't help it. He started to laugh too. She stayed on her back on the floor, giggling while he picked up all 13 cards.

"You suck," he commented.

"I know. I told you I would mop the floor with you," she pointed out.

"You're the one on the floor right now," he gestured.

"It's a metaphor..."

"Maybe I should just start mopping right now," he said moving to put his hand on her stomach and start pushing her around on the floor.

"Frank!" she cried, laughing hard again as she grabbed his wrist. "Stop it, you'll get me all dirty!"

"It's just dust," he smirked.

She pulled on his arm, and he lost his balance and toppled on top of her.

"Oh!" she yelped.

"Sorry," he said, propping himself up over her quickly.

"It's okay," she replied. "I was the one who pulled you down."

She looked up at him, and she had the strongest desire to kiss him. She was pretty sure he did too by the way he was looking at her.

"I feel like I've known you forever, Frank," she said quietly.

"Me too," he confessed.

"Maybe in a past life?"

"Maybe," he smiled crookedly.

She took all of him in, and she wanted more. She reached to run her fingers down the inside of his arm. His face grew serious as he rested his hand on her face, running his thumb across her cheek.

"Do you think we would have ever met, if this hadn't happened?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered. In this moment, she felt extremely content, and that was something she hadn't felt in a long time. She sat up slowly, and he took back his hand. She wanted to say something, anything, but no words were coming.

In the end, he broke the silence.

"I believe it's my turn," he said. Emily took a second to realize he was talking about their card game. She felt disappointed that he let the moment between them go, but she didn't want to force it.

"Well, Mr. 13 Cards," she said with a smile. "I guess you can try to beat me."

"More like 20 cards," he commented.

"Let's see what you got," she said, egging him on. She kept looking at him, though, when he wasn't looking at her. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

...

In the dark, Frank was laying on his back and thinking about what had happened earlier. There had been something there with Emily, and he had chickened out. He didn't know why. He had this habit of doing that with women. It was usually always them who initiated the first move, and he knew why. When it came to him doing it, he froze up badly. Something held him back. He knew it had a lot to do with the fact he hadn't known Emily very long, but he had meant what he said when he agreed it felt as though he'd known her forever.

Now, he kicked himself for letting go of the moment. There probably wouldn't be another. If she thought he wasn't interested, then she probably wouldn't try again. Frank thought about his life and how alone he felt at times. Most of the time he liked being alone, but there were other times where he craved company. Being with Emily made him feel happy, and he hadn't felt happy in a long time. After their card game, they sat and talked about childhood memories. Frank had never done that with anyone. Emily had many, and she showed confliction about them due to her father not really being her father, but she still shared. He thought about her question of whether or not they would have met in different circumstances, and Frank didn't know if they would have. If something was meant to be, though, then maybe they would have.

Thirst eventually won, and he got up to go get some water, turning on the smaller kitchen light. He was standing by the sink when he heard noise behind him. He turned.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" Emily asked.

"Not really," he answered.

She moved to stand beside him and get some water herself. Frank couldn't stop looking at her. She looked even more beautiful with a bit of bed head.

"What?" she asked, noticing.

"Nothing," he shook his head.

"I'm so tired of sleeping in these clothes," she complained. "I wish I had brought something else to put on."

Frank didn't know how to help. He didn't have anything for her either. She finished her water and put the glass on the counter.

"Well, good night again," she smiled, moving to pass him.

Without fully knowing what he was doing, he caught her by the waist, pulling her into him and running a hand up to trace her cheek with his fingers. Emily instinctively put her arms around him and met his eyes with hers. Frank didn't say anything as he moved in closer to her. He built up the moment by pausing very close to her lips with his. Her fingers dug into his back, and he searched her eyes for a second before closing his and kissing her slowly. When she kissed him back, he kept it going. It was an amazing moment for him. It made his feelings for her magnify that much more.

She pushed him back into the counter, running her hands all over him now as the kiss deepened and intensified. Frank paused it only to find the light and turn it off.

"Frank?" Emily said.

"Yea?"

"What changed your mind?"

"It didn't need changing," he told her. "I just needed to stop being afraid."

"Are you afraid of me?" she asked, smoothing his face with her hand.

"I'm afraid of what will happen when you leave me," he said truthfully.

"Who said I was going to leave you?" she asked.

"You don't really know me. Something is bound to make you leave," he reasoned.

"You really need to start being more positive," she murmured, kissing him again before pausing once more. "And I do know you. You're kind and caring and will do anything to help someone, even if you don't know them. You used to go fishing with your dad. You left the SAS because you weren't feeling it anymore. You're smart, funny, and sure as hell don't put up with anyone's shit. How am I doing so far?"

"You got it," he chuckled.

"I knew you were a good soul the moment you saved my life the first time," she said. "If you didn't care, you would have just let me die. You also broke two of your rules for me."

"I did," he agreed. She kissed him again, and there was no stopping this time.

...

Emily opened her eyes the next morning to see Frank still sleeping next to her. She smiled, thinking about the night before. She waited a bit before getting up. He didn't stir as she got dressed and went to freshen up. She was suddenly starving. Then she remembered there was no food in this place. She frowned to herself. Frank's phone rang at this point, and she heard him search for it before answering. She poked her head out of the bathroom to see him covering his face with one hand while holding the phone to his ear with the other.

"Okay," he was saying. "Talk soon."

"Who was that?" she asked when he hung up.

"Tarconi," he answered, turning his head to look at her. "He said he is sending someone to check out the place I'm supposed to take you in Marseille and will let me know if something's up."

"Okay," she nodded. "I don't suppose you're hungry?" He started to chuckle.

"I'll go get something," he said, moving to get up. "Hint taken."

"Well, a girl's gotta eat," Emily pointed out. She was still getting used to eating properly. She was surprised she even felt hunger.

"I know," he smiled. He got dressed quickly, grabbing his wallet and keys and going for the door. Emily waited for him to come back and used the time to examine the house a bit more thoroughly. There really wasn't much to look at.

She was sitting on the counter and swinging her legs when Frank returned.

"I thought you'd ditched me," she said, hopping down and going over to him.

"Now why would I ditch you?" he asked as she stopped in front of him.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It's happened to me before."

"Anyone who decides to ditch you is an idiot," Frank reasoned. She laughed. He handed her a yogurt mix, and she snagged it from him.

"You're the best," she said, opening it.

"I didn't take you for a danish kind of girl," he commented. She stopped her yogurt dipped finger halfway to her mouth, staring at him as he took a large bite out of his rasberry filled danish. Once upon a time, those were her favorite, before she got obsessed with food and being skinny.

"That looks amazing," she sighed. He raised a brow at her.

"I did not see that coming," he said. She stepped towards him, making him step back. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. You've got your breakfast. This is mine."

"I just want the jam," she said.

"That's the best part!"

"I know!" she laughed, still trying to access it. Frank easily kept her at bay by placing his hand on her upper chest and his elbow up to block her hand.

"No," he said. "Uh uh."

"Frank!" she whined.

He stuffed the whole thing into his mouth, and she dropped her mouth open in shock.

"You wouldn't even let me have a little bit?" she asked, faking hurt. He took his time chewing and swallowing before answering.

"Sorry," he said.

"No, you're not," she pointed out. He reached into the bag and pulled out another one.

"It's why I got two," he said. It was out of his hands before he could count to one. She dragged her finger through the jam and sucked it off.

"Oh my God," she groaned. "It's just like I remember."

Frank just shook his head while smiling as she proceeded to eat all the filling. He gladly took it back from her when she was done. The rest of it was still good.

"And here I'd almost given up hope that you were a decent guy," she teased, eating her yogurt now.

"Good to know your faith in me is so little," he replied, tilting his head at her. She didn't say anything as she smirked and continued eating. She felt so at ease with him, like she could be herself with no fear that he wouldn't like what he saw.

"I found something else," he said, pulling a black dress with white flowers on it out of the bag too. "I know you said you were tired of the same clothes, and this was outside the building I got the food, so..."

"Frank, you're amazing," Emily cut him off. She was finished eating and went over to him, grasping the back of his head while wrapping her other arm around his back. As she kissed him, she tried not to think about the future or if she was even going to survive the next 24 hours. She just wanted to be in this moment with him. His hands on her face and skin was enough to accomplish this.

She never wanted it to end.