John and Juliana spend a couple hours talking about the realities of discrimination in America, the ideals of Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and the need for lasting change. Juliana admires this John. He is passionate, echoing the other version of himself, but he is compassionate too. He cares deeply for people and he will do what he can to teach and empower his students to be advocates and co-conspirators in changing the world. He is rebellious and a little subversive in what he teaches, and she knows that he could help the Resistance cause, lead it even. But then her pesky mind must tell her that there is not a space for him back there.

They both drift to sleep on the couch, but John eventually wakes her.

"I don't think this will provide a very good night's sleep before your first day." His whisper tickles her ear, and her eyes search his for something more. She mostly finds the tiredness of a teacher who has a long week of work ahead of him. He puts out a hand to help her up which she takes gladly. His strong hands around hers leaves her breathless, and suddenly is craves the taste of his lips and wonders what it would be like.

"Good night." She mumbers groggily instead and moves pass him to her room.

"Good night, Julia." He pauses by her door, wanting to go in, wanting her. He feels like a teenage boy with heart a flutter. This wonderful, random woman quite literally fell into their lives and suddenly he wishes he were fifteen years younger.

He heads up the stairs to bed and lets his body's clear instinctive reflexes die down before drifting off, hoping for pleasant dreams.

Julia looks at the ceiling, wondering if he is just over her. She drifts off to sleep, still in his sweats and shirt, for her last night at the Smith residence.

On their morning drive to school, John notices out of the corner of his eye that Juliana is fixing her skirt nervously for the third time in the car this morning.

"You look great." He mutters, giving her a side smile so he can stay focused on the road.

Her lips turn up graciously, stunned that he noticed. "I'm just glad they had a few nice things that fit me at the Salvation Army."

He had driven Juliana to the thrift store on Saturday to buy a few items for work. He also noticed her red lipstick this morning, but felt it inappropriate to comment on it, which he is finding oddly troublesome just how much he is having to censor himself a lot around her. He wonders if it might be easier when she leaves.

Thomas wishes Juliana a great first day and meets up with some friends to jog the track.

"He's a great boy." Juliana comments noticing how John beams whenever he watches his son.

"He really is. He makes me a better man." He says as he grabs his brown leather bag from the back seat.

"I'm counting on it." She whispers, watching Thomas run, hoping that he is fully well in this world. "I better be off, John."

He walks over to her. "Right. Have a good first day. And I can take you over to Mrs. Krendel's tonight."

Juliana would really enjoy that, but she needs a little space from him right now. In part because she needs to formulate her plan without his distracting charm, and in part because she finds herself in an odd predicament. She cannot stay here, and she has no intention of breaking anyone else's heart through her role in the Resistance.

"I think I'll just collect my bag at the end of the day and ride home with her. Seems easiest." Her expression begins determinedly but softens as she had no intention of rejecting him outright.

His cheekbones are further accentuated by his charismatic grin. "Right again. Well, I'll see you back here tonight then." He wants to watch her walk off but instead heads straight to his classroom, very much in need of the distraction.

"You are a God send, dear!" Mrs. McMurphy exclaims. Apparently Juliana is very good at filing, typing, and all other office tasks Mrs. McMurphy would rather not do while she talks to parents, teachers, and anyone else who will listen to her. Juliana doesn't mind as the busy work occupies her thoughts, grounding her in the present.

At second period, Juliana goes around to pick up the attendance forms. As she walks through the halls of the school, she lets the colors was over her. There are bright blue lockers with student paintings and event posters above them. Some students have put stickers on their locker doors, demarcating them as their own. No school in the Reich could possibly look this warm and inviting. She slowly stops near room 128 for a moment, taking a deep breath before she opens the door cautiously. She gives Mr. Smith a smile while reaching for the attendance slip. He barely looks at her, just offering a nod of thanks before he goes back to writing the major themes of To Kill a Mockingbird on the board. She plans to finish the book over her lunch break so they can discuss more about it throughout the week.

The rest of the day goes just as smoothly, and a little after 5 o'clock, she heads out to meet him. John leans against the front of his car, hands in his pockets waiting for her. He is alluring as ever and she almost regrets that she is not staying with them anymore.

"Your bag, miss." He lifts up the beautiful blue canvas overnight bag that he is loaning to her.

"Thank you, kind sir." As she takes it, she lets her fingers linger on his. He looks down into her captivating eyes and slowly, despite himself, lets go of the bag. Her coy smirk widens once she turns away from him, letting her hips sway a little more to counterbalance the weight of the bag of course.

Pursuit is in part about playing hard to catch.

oOoOo

Reichsmarschall Smith stood with hands clasped behind his back, looking out the window in his New York office. He hears the door open and turns just enough to witness the Sturmbannführer's heil, returning to view the city.

"Sir, she has been spotted."

It takes all of John's self control not to rush over to this messenger. "Close the door, Hans."

Sturmbannführer Hans moves quickly, handing Smith the file. When he opens it, his breath catches at the sight of her and his girls.

"That will be all." He says to a man who now seems so very far away.

"Sir…" Hans doesn't move immediately, but one obstinate glare from Smith has him turning tail and he is out the door in half a second.

Alone in his office, Smith falls into one of the plush leather chairs and runs his fingers over her picture, stroking her face. If he closes his eyes, he can almost smell her, his Helen. He flips through the photos, lingering his gaze on each of his beautiful girls, blinking away the tears that threaten to gather. Jennifer and Amy are wearing matching amber dresses as if they are merely out and about on a fall holiday. Finally, he looks at the city of their last sighting: Nashville, Tennessee. He knows he could be there in an hour on a jet if he leaves immediately, but he stays in his chair looking longingly at his family, most of his family.

He recalls his dream, with Juliana and Thomas sitting at a table eating pork chops and mashed potatoes. He recognizes the frivolity of dwelling on such things, but his heart refuses to allow his thoughts to transition to more practical endeavors. He is trapped in that half memory, looking between his lovely boy and this woman who has been a barb in his side from day one. He had tried to use her, but she seems to always get the upper hand.

Lost in thoughts of frustration and failure, he catches another glimpse of another world.

Smith sees Thomas sitting next to him and across from Juliana. He hears his son's voice, "Will you come with us, Julia?" He sees hope in the boy's expression. Smith's ears perk up at 'Julia,' the name he gave her when she defected to the Reich.

"I'm not sure..." Juliana looks at John, and for a moment he is fascinated by her. He hates her, but he must admit she is intelligent, cunning, and today in this fantasy, rather pretty. She knows how attractive she is, and she knows how to play the demure damsel in distress with ease. She is so adept at her role, and he remembers telling her as much.

"Don't pressure her, Tom." John says.

"But dad, you're always saying that 'the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.'" Smith bristles at Thomas' unruly tone.

"He is right." Her doe eyes irritate Smith even more. "I'll go."

John responds, "We were planning to make signs Thursday night and leave Friday after school. We should make it there in time for the march on Saturday."

Thomas is grinning, proud of the decisions they are making. Smith stares at his son's face, the longing continues to build.

Then he has returned, trapped in his own damn world. The memories, visions, daydreams seem to center on his deepest failures… the Resistance leader he should have killed, and the one person who swore he would protect.

He looks down, back at the picture of Helen. He remembers his promise to her like it was yesterday: "Will I ever see him again?" She had pleaded on the verge of tears. "When, and if, it is safe." He had callously replied.

But he failed all of them. He chose to save his country, to prevent a nuclear war, instead of save his own son.

Juliana is stronger than she wants people to know, and he continues to underestimate her. The Reichsmarschall will not make the same mistake again.

oOoOo

"I'll be at your house after work on Thursday, then." Juliana takes another bite of her sandwich.

John tries to tamper the thrill he feels at her willingness to join them. This woman affects him so. When he watches or listens to her, she echoes something familiar, something comfortable. Her pretend shyness is so fun and flirtatious and even though he knows she isn't so timid, he will not push her too far too quickly. When she wants to truly open up to him, he will be waiting.

oOoOo

Reichsmarschall Smith has been reviewing candidates for a few days now. He is finding it hard to narrow in on a handful he thinks he could trust amidst the present uncertainty. Would any suspect these men are not his SS subordinates? Himmler is still in the hospital, and Großadmiral Karl Dönitz has been made interim Chancellor. He could move in at any minute to seal the deal and claim himself as Fuhrer. Soon everything they know about the films, the quantum transfer device, and the travellers could be revealed to a barbarous warmonger.

Himmler may have the audacity to think he can conquer other worlds, but Dönitz would destroy this one.

John finally selects five men and he buzzes for Sturmbannführer Hans.

"Sir." Hans heils.

"Get me these men." He hands him four pictures. "And you will escort them west."

"Reichsmarschall?" Hans stands straight, the depiction of a splendid soldier-a man of discipline, loyalty, strength, and sound mind.

Smith scans the physique of this younger, lower ranking man wondering if it is even possible? "Hans… you are going to learn to travel with them."

"These are defectives, sir. They are to be released from their suffering tomorrow."

"Yes, Hans. And you are going to see to it that the Resistance gets them out." Smith raises an eyebrow, demonstrating his annoyance at being challenged on the matter.

"And then you will induct them into the SS. We have use of them yet, despite their conditions." Smith knows it is actually because of their conditions that they are useful.

"Yes, sir."

"Now." Smith's voice cuts the air like a dagger and Hans complies.

Alone in his room again, he clasps his hands before him and looks at his old Captain's metal from the American army. His comment to Kido rises up to plague his psyche.

"I keep it as a reminder of the consequences of the failure of command."

oOoOo

Thank you for reading this far! Please review, they keep me excited and writing! And sorry for the slow, slow burn. I promise it is coming ;)