Author's Note: This took longer than I had intended to post. Probably because I'm not sure I like this bit, but… (Feel free to tell me that they're not in character. At least for me, I had picked up on a jealous thread in the canon characterization of Milo where Nadia was concerned, however.)

"Why don't you just hit me, Milo?"

She was shouting. As a rule, Nadia hated shouting. Her voice, a bit low and husky for a woman, tended to crack at loud decibels. It was unattractive and a bit painful. And worst of all, it failed to get her point across when it went all squeaky and raspy. If she were at the point of desiring to shout at someone, she wanted them to damn well feel the force of her wrath.

"Or scream at me?"

The man had only become broodingly silent. He was obviously furious. And he had every right to be. But say so, for fuck's sake. Blame her, hate her. Just get it all out.

She paced about a bit, finally taking the kitchen chair across from him, where she had originally been sitting when she'd broken the news to him. She had taken a deep breath, and told him that they should no longer see one another romantically. He had not said anything, simply stared at her. He hadn't asked why. Which should've been a good sign, that he knew as well as her that it just wasn't working out. But he had continued to say absolutely nothing. She had proceeded to outline her reasoning, that she did not feel for him the way she thought he felt for her, that she had been in denial of the fact for a while, the fact that she would never feel that way. She had been cruel not to tell him earlier, to free him from the relationship so that he could move on with his life, find someone who deserved him.

He had said nothing. She had asked him to tell her what he was thinking. He had said nothing. She pleaded with him to accept her heartfelt apology, that this was for the best. He had said nothing. Only stared at her with dark eyes. Finally, Nadia had thrown her hands up in exasperation and jumped to her feet. And then she had begun to pace. Pace and sigh. Milo had leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on her. She could see he was clenching his jaw, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. Obviously, he was feeling something quite intensely. Yet he still had said nothing.

Nadia had snapped. She had purposefully antagonized him, letting her own frustration manifest as angry gesticulations and shouts. They needed this. To get it all out so that it could be put to rest.

"There's obviously something on your mind," she said much more calmly from her resumed seat across the table. "And no matter what happens, how you feel, how badly I've hurt you, I'd like to be your friend."

A huff of air denoted the first near-verbal noise the man had made. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell if it was in acquiescence to her assertion, a display of bitter amusement or denoted outright disbelief.

"You've always been a good friend to me," she said quietly. She sighed in defeat and made to leave her former boyfriend's apartment.

"Doyle."

She stopped mid-stride and turned back to face him. Her heart had skipped a beat at the mention of their fellow agent's name. Was it really that obvious? Well, Milo had seemed to know, even before she had, before Mike Doyle had. Or had it always been just an overactive imagination of a jealous man, picking up on the thread of chemistry between his girlfriend and the hardened field operative.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"Did you sleep with him?"

"No!" How little did Milo think of her? True, she had been wrong to lead him on, hoping she would grow to love him as more than just a close friend. But she had never sought out a romantic relationship with another man while she was supposedly with him. She was not some slut, taking whatever she could get from whomever she could get it!

She swallowed back the anger. For she had kissed Mike Doyle, hadn't she?

Taking a submissive position, Nadia crouched down before Milo, looking up into his grim face. Had all gone well, this wouldn't have been necessary. But too late now. She swallowed hard, steeled her nerves and confessed.

"I kissed him."

Milo's eyes flashed and he shook his head.

"I always knew he wanted to get into your pants," he said. "But I must have been stupid not to see you wanted him, too."

Nadia bit her tongue. Let him get it out. Maybe, just maybe they could salvage their friendship from this mess...

"What is it you like about Mike Doyle? The man's a psychopath, probably gets off on slapping women around in bed. Or is that how you like to be fucked, Nadia?

Oh, she certainly had gotten what she wanted. Milo's restraint had broken, and instead of seething slowly inside, it was pouring out in verbal abuse upon her. But this was too far.

She rose, and took her seat across from him once more, taking the moment to bite down the rage at being insulted in such a manner by a person whose opinion mattered to her. He was simply upset and hurt, lasing out, not understanding her perspective.

"You haven't heard me." Her voice was surprisingly quiet, detached. Where yelling or spitting insults back would've failed to garner his attention, the remote tone of her speech caused him to drop into silence and stare at her intently. His eyes were still dark and edged with anger, but he did not interrupt her.

"On the surface, you were the perfect, attentive boyfriend. But you never really paid attention, did you?"

Nadia did not look away. It was imperative he understand the real reason why she was breaking off with him. It wasn't that Mike Doyle had made advances towards her. It wasn't that she was attracted to someone else. It was simply that she did not love Milo as anything more than a close friend.

"Or, like me, were you just trying to ignore the fact that I didn't have the sort of feelings for you that I should've?"

They stared at one another a moment longer, and then they both looked away. The silence stretched on between them until Nadia felt it had been long enough for Milo to digest what she had said.

"Forgive me?" she asked, not even trying to hide the despair in her voice. He had to know that she had never meant to hurt him, that she had tried, really tried to make it work.

He took her hand and his dark eyes burned into her with an extremely unnerving intensity.

"Nadia, I love you," he said. "I don't think I'll ever stop loving you, even though..."

He didn't finish, but they both knew what he meant. Even though she was leaving him. Even though she would soon be laying in another man's arms. Even though she was breaking his heart.

"But I'm not sure I'll be able to forgive you." He sighed, shaking his head. "Maybe, someday. Maybe never."

Her heart sank a little. Just because she didn't want to spend the rest of her life with the man, settle down and build a future with him, didn't even want to make love to him, didn't mean she did not care about him. She liked Milo, a lot. He was one of the best people she'd ever known. And he must hate her. How could he not?

"I take it that we can't be friends anymore," she said.

Milo shrugged. Just shrugged.

Nadia made it all the way home and crawled into bed before the tears came flowing over, streaming down her cheeks and wetting her pillow. She had hurt and alienated one of her closest friends.

And for what?

A/N: I've got a plot beyond the romance in mind, but have to set up some things first… This could be quite an epic fic, so stick around?