Owen:

Owen was aware that he was taking liberties with Alex. The mission mandate dictated they act like a couple, but usually an arm around the shoulders or hand holding, with an occasional kiss on the cheek or lips would suffice. But Owen couldn't help take it a step further. He had her practically glued to his side, her body molded to his. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her. He was being selfish and probably causing an impeding argument between Alex and her would-be boyfriend. It was enough to deter him.

Owen ignored the glares being sent his way from Sean. In fact, if he were being honest, Owen would have to admit he was getting a twisted sense of satisfaction from torturing the other man. It was completely irrational, but he wanted to beat the crap out of Sean every time he saw him. He also couldn't say that the urge was completely due to the way that Sean had treated Alex – although there was that element to it too – but he didn't like the thought of the two becoming a couple again. Alex deserved someone who would bring her the moon if she asked for it, not one who tried to dictate her decisions.

Sean had been right when he said spies' gossip. After all, their business was information – and of course death and espionage - information that was considered non-life threatening was then discussed to within an inch of its life. It was as a result of this that he had heard the rumors revolving around Sean and Alex's break-up. The jest of the rumors being that Sean wanted to Alex to leave Division and because she wouldn't he had left her. Alex confirmed his suspicions one evening while they were eating dinner, a week before he'd disappeared for five days.

Owen couldn't even remember what had led them into the conversation, but Alex had grown quite and withdrawn. It was something he hadn't seen since she'd given up the painkillers. Not wanting her to feel like she had to explain herself, he had gently told her that he was here when ever she wanted to talk, there was no pressure. He could still remember the smile she had given him, almost shy, but grateful. He'd been surprised when she started talking.

"Sean wanted me to leave Division and make a life with him. He believed that because I wouldn't, that was my way of saying I didn't love him as much as he loved me." Alex smiled sadly. "But do I know about love? At least the kind of love Sean is talking about. Sometimes I think it's just too hard to love."

Alex had gotten up from the table then, taking both of their plates to the sink. Owen watched her, taking in the slumped shoulders and defeated body language.

"You don't think you deserve too be loved." It was out of his mouth before he'd even finished formulating the thought. But he knew he was right when her entire body tensed. They'd entered into some dangerous territory here, but now that it was out, there was no point hiding from it. She kept her back to him the entire time she spoke, washing the dishes.

"It's not that exactly," Alex said, slowly. "I just…When Sean told me he loved me, it scared the crap out of me. The first thing that popped into my head was what if I can't love him back in the same way. It took forever for Nikita to break down my walls, but she never stopped trying; not once, even when I shot her."

Alex paused here, taking a deep breath. Owen could see this was hard for her, but he was glad she was getting it off her chest. It was things like this that could eat away at a person's soul. Alex was too good for that.

"I'm not saying that Sean is a bad guy," she continued. "But he doesn't have the same kind of life experiences as I do. It makes it tougher for him to grasp where I'm coming from, especially in terms of a relationship. I can see that he wants to try. That he thinks knowing what happened to me before Division, helps understand me. But that's not how it works, unfortunately. I want to love him, but something keeps blocking me."

"But you love Nikita, Michael and Birkhoff?" Owen knew she did, he just wanted clarification.

"Yes, but that's different. There my family and I know… I remember what that feels like. But, Owen, I…I've never let a man get as close as Sean wants too be. It terrifies me." Owen heard the tremor in Alex's voice. It was hard to believe she'd been through so much and was still so young. He was amazed that she could still see good in the world. But innocence and age didn't always go hand-in-hand. Alex was proof of that.

"In my past, men have had all the power and for me to willingly let a man into my he…heart," her voice faltered, but she didn't stop. "That level of emotional intimacy is not something I have experience with. I don't even know if I ever want too be that vulnerable. If he left after that…If Nikita left after everything…It would break me."

The raw honesty in her voice surprised them both. Owen sat in his chair a moment overwhelmed that she would share something like that with him. As cheesy as it sounded, he felt honored that she trusted him that much. He got up from the table and went to stand beside her. She had finished washing the glasses and plate a long time ago – it seemed – and now stood hunched over, her hands gripping the counter.

"When the right man comes along Alex, you'll know," Owen said, dearly wishing that he could find the magic words to soothe her emotional scars, but this was all he had and he hoped they'd at least help a little. "Maybe its Sean, maybe it's not. But when you do find the right person he'll consider himself so lucky, that he'll wait as long as you need to work out your issues. Even if that takes a lifetime; he'll wait."

"Aren't you just a romantic at heart," she said with another sad smile, but she bumped his shoulder with hers and handed him a tea towel. "Now I'm going to pick a movie, you dry up."

Owen knew that was her way of escaping the conversation, but he let her go. It was enough for one night. Besides living together meant they had plenty of time to talk.

Then he had gone and scared her by disappearing for five days.

It was an unspoken agreement between them that when Owen with out on his own personal mission he would be back in about two or three days. He would get in contact if he was going to be detained longer. So far it hadn't been necessary, his leads haven fallen through. It was beyond frustrating, but he gritted his teeth and continued tediously wading through his files and some Division contacts. It was while he was meeting up with a contact in Rio that he was struck down by another headache.

Owen had meet up with the contact earlier that day. It had been a waste of time, which Owen had been half-expecting. He'd gone back to the house – shack really – that he'd been using to stay under the radar, with a heavy heart. He hadn't been feeling great all day. His eyes were sore and the sun wasn't helping matters, even with his sunglasses. He'd collapsed on his bed, only to wake a few hours later.

Owen's head was pounding out a rhythmic tattoo. Thump, thump! Thump, thump! Thump, thump! He tried to stand, but fell back when a violent surge of pain went from his head to his entire body. An agonized scream was ripped from his body. He was extremely glad he'd picked an overcrowded area to stay where people ignored sounds like that.

There was no Alex to look after him this time; just blinding pain. He lost all track of time, the seconds, minutes and hours it took for the pain to subside seemingly going on forever. He'd been completely incapacitated, but he still dreamt.

Owen couldn't say for sure if they were dreams or if they were something more. They had definitely felt real enough. A hot desert sun, sand, blood, graves full of bodies…. They were more comparable to nightmares. If they were real…

No wonder Percy choose me as one of his cleaners, he thought bitterly, I was already a monster before he got to me.

A memory from his days in Division overtook his consciousness.

Owen was lying on his stomach, looking through the scope of his AS50 rifle. His target wasn't due home for another five minutes, but he had been here for hours. He needed to know the layout and get a feel for his surrounding before he completed the job. Command cheeked in on him every hour, on the hour.

Owen didn't know – didn't want to know – the reasons why the target had to die, but these were his orders and he was a good soldier.

The minutes ticked by and the target pulled into his drive way right on schedule.

"Target in sight," he reported back to base. He watched the man get out of the car and round the back, opening the passenger door; a boy got out. The target was meant to be alone. The info was supposed to solid.

"Target is not alone. Repeat. Target is not alone." Owen was conflicted. He did not want to take out the target in front of the child nor did he want to shoot the child. "Should I abort?"

Owen was going to lose his window shortly, even now the target and boy were making there way to the door. There was a part of him that hoped they'd get inside before base came back with an order.

"Negative," Percy spoke in his ear. "Shoot the target."

"Sir, but the boy – "

"That is a direct order from your superior. Take the shoot."

Owen pulled the trigger.

Owen bolted upright, breathing raggedly. He threw himself over the side of his bed, heaving his guts up. There wasn't much there, considering he hadn't eaten in a while.

Good things. I need to think about good things. Owen just had to figure out what the good things were.

The first thing that came to mind was Alex. He wasn't too surprised by that. She had been the only good thing since he'd gotten out of that Russian prison. She was keeping him sane, as much as he was keeping her from falling off the wagon. He didn't think she'd go down that road again, but he still wanted to be there for her. It still shocked him that she had agreed to let him move in with her, after he had been so heavy-handed. He'd practically commanded her into letting him stay, but it been because he was worried about her.

Owen then thought of Nikita and Michael.

At one stage, he'd been jealous of Nikita and Michael, but not because he wanted Nikita. He did care about her, she had shown him a better way to live and he would be forever grateful for that, but there was too much baggage between them for it to ever work romantically. He was jealous because he wanted what they had. He had felt it with Emily, but Division had killed her and it had left him feeling hollow. Nikita had helped him through that as well. She was a true friend. She and Michael deserved too be happy.

From then on he tried to keep the good thoughts in his head, hoping they'd keep the nightmares at bay. It was another day before the headache finally released him from its clutches.

By the time he got to Alex, he was barely holding himself up. The look on her face when he entered the apartment was a mixture of pain and relief, which quickly became concern as she enfolded him in her arms. Owen had never felt so relived in all his life. Then she'd crawled into his lap and his entire body just relaxed. All the pain, the confusion and hurtful memories fell away and he was surrounded by Alex. It had felt natural to slip his hands under her shirt, seeking skin to skin contact.

Then Sean had to come knocking on the door.

Owen had always being partial to letting his anger take the reins, especially when he felt it was justified. He'd been unprepared for the level of anger that had coursed through his body when he opened the door to find Sean Pierce, the former DEVGRU operator. Owen had done his research.

He had also meant it when he threatened to kill him if he hurt Alex again. The only reason she was even talking to him right now was because Owen couldn't seem to say no to her. He had stormed back to bed, striped down to his boxers and gotten into beds. He'd left his door slightly ajar, in case Alex needed him, so he got snatches of the conversation. Alex was angry; she had every right too be. But Owen could hear the sincerity in Sean's voice when he'd asked for a second chance.

It was torture to hear her cry. The only reason he hadn't gone to her was because he knew she would come to him if she needed comfort. And she had, even if she didn't know how to go about it. The last few times she's needed him, he'd been there to offer it, but asking for it was a new experience. He decided to let her off the hook; she'd made the effort to come into his room, even if she was finding it hard to say the words.

It was the day before they got the Kirsten Stand assignment that Sean and Owen came to an understanding. He'd gone to the gym in Division to work off some excess energy. Sean had arrived about ten minutes into his work out. Owen was doing sit-ups – he was on fifty – when he spotted Sean out the corner of his eye.

"What's going on with you and Alex?" Sean asked, getting straight to the point. Owen was glad for that; he wasn't in the mood for bullshit.

"I don't see how that's your business." Owen was baiting him on purpose. He wanted to see just how far Sean was willing to go to win Alex back.

"I'm her boyfriend," Sean said, his face hardening. "I think I have a right to know."

"You wouldn't need to ask me that if you knew Alex as well as you think."

Owen hopped to his feet and moved his neck from side to side, loosening the muscles. He walked over to the thread mill, the younger man following him.

"What are you trying to say?"

Owen turned around, looking Sean right in the eye. "I'm saying that I think you treated Alex poorly and I don't think you deserve her."

Sean lashed out, aiming a punch at Owen's face. Owen moved backward out-of-the-way, falling into a fighting stance. Sean followed suit, the two men squaring off. Owen took a kick to his ribs, wincing. He was going too be bruised tomorrow. He ducked down as Sean tried to punch him again, using a round house kick to sweep his feet out from under him. Sean was back on his feet in seconds; head down as he ran straight at Owen. He grabbed him around the waist carrying him across the room and into the wall. Owen lifted his elbow and brought in down hard on Sean's back, once, twice, three times. Sean let go and Owen popped him one in the side of his face. He punched him again the stomach, making sure to get him in the solar plexus, winding him. Owen used the opportunity to run at Sean and take him down to the floor. Crouching beside the former Oversight agent, Owen grabbed him by the throat, his fist raised to hit him again.

"Go ahead," Sean defiantly commanded, breathing hard. "You're nothing but a killer. You don't deserve her anymore than I do."

Owen narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening an inch, before he let go. He stood up and stuck his arm out. Sean eyed it suspiciously, but took it after a long minute. Owen pulled him to his feet; both men wearily watching the other.

"You're right, I don't deserve her," Owen agreed calmly. "I never will, but I am her friend. And that means that I'm going too be in her life for as long as she lets me. You better get used to that if you intend on trying to win her back."

Sean nodded. "Fine, but that doesn't mean I have to like you."

Then they'd gotten the assignment and there roles were doled out. Sean had not been happy; still wasn't happy as Owen caught his eye from his seat in the corner with Alex. It seemed like a relatively straight forward mission, but appearances could be deceiving. There were a lot of unanswered questions about this Kristen Stand women and who she was. It was a hard on to call.

"We have eyes on a brunette entering the bar," Birkhoff spoke in their ear, over the comm. link. Three sets of eyes turned to the door, watching a tall, brunette woman walk in; a small, blond women walking in before her. They watched her look around the bar, but then she smiled and waved at a group of people in a booth and made her way toward them.

"Wasn't her, Birkhoff," Owen reported. He turned his head towards Alex and made it look like he was whispering sweet things in her ear. If he wasn't mistaken, Owen thought he felt her shiver. He nuzzled the side of her head, her hair soft against his cheek. She tilted her head slightly, causing his hand playing with her earring to graze the length of her neck. Owen heard her gasp and it made him act bolder; he dragged his lips along the shell of the ear he'd been neglecting. Alex's hand tightened on his knee and she turned to look at him, her eyes wide and innocent. Owen suddenly felt bad. He was taking advantage of the situation.

He meant what he said to Sean the other day. He was not good enough for her.

"Can I sit here?" Thankfully, Alex and Owen were pulled out of there daze by the sound of an unfamiliar voice. The blond women from before was taking a seat beside Sean, her voice coming through his microphone. Sean opened his mouth to tell her he was waiting for someone, but she started speaking again before he could speak. "I'm Kristen, Kristen Stand, and you are?"

Wasn't Kristen supposed too be tall and a brunette?