Lincoln pulled back, still inches from her breath. He gently stroked the fine texture of her hair. And her eyes softened to his touch as they stared longingly at him, with a sweetness only revealed for the first time. He traced the contours of her mouth, lingering at the wound he had inflicted upon her during his capture. His expression filled with regret. And she returned his expression with one of forgiveness.

She closed her eyes and slightly parted her lips, inviting him in with a grace he had long since forgotten under the harshness of prison life. He leaned in and gently kissed her, their lips soft and tender, savoring one another. Nothing like the roughness they had both shared. This was different, it was warm and loving. They both wanted this, he could sense it. Her hands roamed his back, and with delicate strokes she slowly eased along the scratch marks she left behind as if to heal them with her touch.

Lincoln could feel himself getting pulled in and he didn't want the kiss to end, relishing this moment with her and the feelings that started to brew inside him. But then she turned away from him, nudging him off and he unwillingly pulled back.

"We should get dressed," she said, her eyes avoiding his.

Lincoln was taken aback by her sudden coldness. But then realized that her coldness was who she was and that this tender side he had glimpsed at for just a moment was an aberration that he may never see again.

He stood and helped her up off the floor, neither saying a word. And as they picked up their clothes she broke the uneasy silence that labored between them, "There's some extra clothes upstairs we can change into."

They went into separate rooms and dressed themselves, discarding their tattered tops.

When Jane went back downstairs, she found Lincoln had already changed his shirt and was sitting in the living room watching TV.

"Aren't you going outside?" she asked with a cool demeanor. Her hair tucked neatly behind her ears, displaying no signs of the torrid lovemaking they had shared.

He looked up at her, with the remote control planted in his hand. He looked for the sweetness in her eyes he had seen from their last kiss. But her face was stern, her eyes cold, as if nothing happened between them, as if it were truly an aberration, something he had conjured up in the recesses of his lonely heart.

"No. I think I'll just watch TV and wait for my son to get back," He said with equal detachment. Then he pulled out her cell phone from his pocket. "Here you go," he said, tossing it to her.

"By the way," she said coolly, "this was a 1 shot deal. It's never happening again."

He turned back to the TV, avoiding her stare, "That works for me."

"Good," she said. She slipped the phone in her pocket and walked away.

But as she turned to walk, Lincoln turned his head and watched her walk away. The shape of hips, the curve of her butt swayed with each step. He could still smell her on him, his lips still felt her touch. She didn't have the sweetness of Veronica, she didn't hold the memories of a lifetime of love. But for a moment, she made him forget the pain, of an existence filled with anger and hopelessness. And he wanted to feel that again.

For he couldn't forget what had happened between them and he didn't want to. He stood up and motioned to follow her. What was the point? For Jane it was a mistake, and maybe it was. But he couldn't get the thought of her out of his mind. She was no longer a company person, Jane was a woman, a woman he wanted to get to know better.

But he would do as she asked and leave her alone. He was nothing but a street thug who had done time for various crimes. What could he offer a woman like her anyway? He slumped back down into the sofa. He would do as she asked and leave her alone, pretend it never happened. Just do what she asked, he kept telling himself.

Jane made her way to the nearest bathroom. She turned to the mirror and lightly brushed her finger against her lip, remembering how he had touched it. She remembered the taste of his finger in her mouth, she remembered the taste of him in her mouth. She sighed as she stared into her reflection.

When she first met him she thought he was aggressive and unruly, with an untamed rage she found oddly seductive. She resisted the urge to see him as more than a job, a man she needed to protect. She had met many men before and had easily resisted the urge to have any kind of relationship. But Lincoln Burrows was not any man. He had a potency she couldn't deny. He didn't bow down to her control. He dominated her and she wanted to succumb to him once more, to be overtaken by his manliness.

She closed her eyes and rested her head on the glass. She was wrong to feel this way. Aldo trusted her with his son's life. It was wrong to want something more. She was right to turn away from his kiss, to stop it before it got any further, before her feelings spiraled out of control. But that moment with him was a moment she would never forget and deep inside she wanted to have many more moments with him. And her duty to Aldo couldn't change that.

But she was a professional. There was no time for personal relationships in her line of work. And it was obvious that Lincoln wanted to be free of the company, conspiracies and anything she had to offer. She told him it would never happen again and he seemed more than willing to comply without hesitation. He didn't fight it, he didn't look disappointed.

Lincoln doesn't want me. He can never fall for someone like me. Let it go Jane, let it go.

She put on her best stone face and left the bathroom.