Chapter 7

Breathing deeply and evenly, Lexa Pierce pressed her forehead to her knees, her arms stretching out to clasp her ankles. She held that pose for a few seconds before releasing them, then placed her palms flat on the workout mat to either side of her waist and lifted her body, arching her back and neck so that her seal-brown ponytail dangled between her shoulder blades. Yoga wasn't the full contact kickboxing and punching-bag sort of workout that Shalimar favored, but in its way it was every bit as taxing, and it was a regimen that suited her. Performing the exercises seemed to have a way of clarifying her mind as well as toning her body, putting her often unruly thoughts into perspective.

She needed some of that perspective now. Something had been happening to her over the past few months, something she only recently recognized. Now she had to figure out what to do about it.

Her time with Mutant X was supposed to be just another assignment, a deal she made with the Dominion in exchange for their resources in helping to find her twin brother. It was that cut and dried. She wasn't here to get chummy with anyone. Professionals didn't do that. They did their job, and moved on. Period. That had always been her creed and she stuck to it, living by her own code, moving from place to place, as elusive as a shadow and just as untouchable, steering clear of entanglements because they created weaknesses and doubts, and trusting no one. Friendship and camaraderie such as was shared by the other members of the Mutant X team were not for the likes of her.

What she hadn't counted on was Jesse Kilmartin. Lexa still couldn't figure out just how it happened, but somehow he managed to get under her skin, had seeped through the cracks of the ice walling off her heart. At first she had been amused by his not-exactly-subtle overtures, by his naiveté in thinking there could be anything between an ex-preppy computer geek from a wealthy family and someone like her. Really, it was laughable. They not only came from different backgrounds, but their experiences were worlds apart. He was so foolishly trusting. She could have played him like a cheap fiddle without even trying, wrapped him around her little finger and then broken his heart into a thousand pieces if she wanted to.

She didn't want to.

Trusting he might be, but what she came to discover was that it sprang not so much from naiveté as from a strong core of idealism that she found herself envying, coupled with a rock-solid moral compass. It took real courage and conviction to be an idealist these days, which she couldn't help but grudgingly respect. He was refreshingly honest and straightforward, with a dry, sometimes biting sense of humor that was much like hers. He had a very giving spirit as well, something she had occasion to experience after her twin died. Jesse was the one who helped her through her grief, supporting her even as she fought him, with a strength she hadn't expected from him and a tenderness that, more than anything else, broke through the dam of her emotions because it was something she hadn't felt for a long, long time. She really lost it then, crying, cursing, railing, and he just held her, weathering the storm until she finally quieted. No one except her brother had ever done that for her before, and the strangeness of it, the weakness it showed, left her feeling raw and exposed.

No, there was more to it than that, and she might as well admit it. Lexa had never been one to shrink from the truth, no matter how unsettling it might be, and she wasn't about to start now. Though she had tried to keep him at arm's length with her abrasive manner, Jesse had managed, with gentle persistence and sincere compassion, to touch the heart and soul of the woman encased within the iron shell. There was no going back, either; no way to repair the breach in her armor. Something inside her had changed irrevocably. He took her in his arms, and for a little while brought light and warmth to the cold, black chasm of loneliness and loss that she hid from everyone but herself. He did this unhesitatingly, with his eyes wide open, fully aware of her dark and sometimes bloody past, accepting her as she was, not who he wanted her to be, and asking nothing in return. Such acceptance, coming as it did at a time when her spirit was brittle to the point of shattering, was an incredible gift, made all the more wondrous by its unconditional offering, and it meant more to her than she could ever express.

Lexa lowered back to the floor, then brought her legs straight up in a ninety degree angle, continuing the flow of her exercise regimen. She had expected Jesse to try to take advantage of her momentary meltdown, but he never mentioned it. When she tentatively broached the subject, he replied that he was just trying to help. And that was that. He didn't refer to it again, or try to hold her to any unspoken or perceived promises. His behavior toward her was the same as it always was. Well, almost. He was more relaxed around her now, still showing his interest in casual ways, but with more confidence, more flashes of that sharp, dry sense of humor she was coming to know so well. It was easier now during slow nights at Sanctuary to pull him away from his computers for a game of chess, or perhaps a lively discussion over a glass of wine on whatever topic presented itself. She was becoming… comfortable…with him.

And that, she told herself sharply as she pushed into a shoulder stand, had to stop. They were opposites in too many ways: he was an optimist, she was a fatalist; he was an incurable romantic while she was brutally pragmatic; he wanted children, and she…no, don't even go there. She quickly slammed the door on that line of thought. The point was there was a whole list of things on which they differed. A personal relationship just wasn't possible. Besides, this thing with the Dominion was going to come to a head soon. She could feel it, like sand slipping through an hourglass, a growing sense of inevitability that she didn't even try to question. What the spark would be she didn't know, but what she did know, much more than the others, was how relentless, how absolutely ruthless the Dominion Council could be. She couldn't afford to let her feelings become a distraction. If she and Jesse both survived the coming battle, then maybe she could dare to think about what it would be like to come out of the shadows, to actually live in the light she now knew she was starved for. At the same time she knew that it could never be – she was too damaged, her soul too stained with darkness. He deserved better, someone who could share his ideals and make him happy. That someone wasn't her.

The heavy shroud of despondency that fell over her at that thought took her by surprise. A sudden vision popped into her head before she could stop it, that of a laughing Jesse holding a towheaded little boy with his crystal blue eyes while some faceless woman at his side cradled a blanketed infant. The image sank her deeper into gloom for some reason, bringing her yoga routine to a halt. Lexa sat on her mat for a long time, her arms wrapped around her drawn-up legs, her chin resting on her knees, and finally admitted to herself just how much she had come to appreciate him, how much the gift of his strength and caring meant to her. This wasn't the wild physical passion of her previous relationships, burning like fire and just as quickly fizzling out, but the gradual process of two people thrown together by circumstance who find something more than either bargained for, something unsettling and strange, yet new and wondrous. A part of her couldn't help thinking - what if she relaxed her guard, just for a little while, and allowed herself to take what he offered so freely? What if she let herself give in return?

Enough. With an effort, Lexa wrenched her mind away from such wishful thinking. It wasn't to be. He had given her so much, more than he would ever know, and she wouldn't repay him by hurting him, which was what would happen in the end if she gave in to her own selfish wants. She had to stop things now. Squaring her shoulders, Lexa stuffed those feelings back behind her emotional barricade before they could further erode her resolve. Her decision was made. She would return his gift in the only way she could – by doing everything in her power to keep him safe from the coming war, to give him a chance at a happiness she couldn't provide. She just had to figure out exactly what needed to be done…and be strong enough to do it. She'd be damned if she would let the Dominion harm Jesse – harm any of them.

"Lexa."

Speak of the devil. Lexa took a couple of seconds to compose her face in a bland mask before rolling fluidly to her feet and going to her computer. On the screen was the permanently grim, bearded face of her Dominion contact, the man she mentally christened "MacGruff" because she didn't know his real name.

"I thought things were a little too quiet," she said, seating herself at the desk.

"Did Ms. Fox go alone to San Francisco?"

Lexa nearly rolled her eyes, but was able to restrain herself just in time. The bean counters were evidently raising their ugly heads again, although she wouldn't have thought it important enough for MacGruff to get involved.

"Yes, and she flew commercial," she said, not wasting any effort in trying to keep the sharpness out of her tone. Honestly – didn't those people have better things to do with their time?

"We need to talk …."

Jesse Kilmartin leaned back from his custom-built tri-screened computer console in Sanctuary's communications center, a mug of freshly-brewed cappuccino steaming gently in his hand, his brow furrowed in thought. Several feet away Brennan sat ensconced at another station, but the intermittent tapping of computer keys barely registered on his consciousness. The complicated computer program before him wasn't what had him enveloped in such a brown study, however. Try as he might, he couldn't keep his mind from straying toward another, completely different but equally complex topic that had been occupying his mind since last night. After correcting his third mistake in fifteen minutes he'd given up, picking up his mug from the electric warmer on his desktop and leaning back in his chair. Perhaps if he turned his attention to this other problem for a while, he could get it mapped out in his head, and then the work would go easier. He sure wasn't accomplishing anything worthwhile right now.

He needed to figure out his next move with Lexa.

His attraction to her completely blindsided him. For one thing, the high-powered brunette wasn't anywhere near his usual taste in women. Yes, she was beautiful, but she was also prickly, abrasive, and independent to a fault. He usually preferred his women softer and more approachable. There was also a huge difference in their life experiences; he had the cushion and sophistication that growing up with old wealth provided, while she … well, he didn't know a whole lot about her life, but what he did know read like a horror story, and it was clear that it left its mark on her in a number of ways. Her sophistication was the hard, deadly sort of a professional mercenary with who knew how many kills to her credit, something so outside his experience that he felt constantly off balance. The woman was a powerhouse in more ways than one, dangerous and enticing, and with a gleam in her eye and a challenging tilt to her chin could send heat zinging through his veins quicker than a gulp of vintage brandy. She was like a high-performance Lamborghini to his BMW – sleek, fast, and addictive, with a cool, touch-me-not bearing that she wore like a second skin.

She frustrated the hell out of him with that, along with her fatalistic, glass-half-empty attitude, and yet he found himself continually drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. He had been hesitant to do anything about it because he was well aware that, like the unwary moth, he could easily get his wings badly singed if he went into this alone. She could play him like a trophy fish if she chose to, and then mount his gutted and bleeding ego on her wall, more than enough reason for any sensible man to tread cautiously. Compounding the problem was the fact that, although Lexa respected him on a professional level, he had absolutely no idea of how she felt about him on the personal side. There was no doubt that she was aware of his interest, but she persisted in sending out what looked to him like mixed signals. She never flat-out rebuffed his small advances, but never encouraged them, either. Was she playing head games, or just daring him to step up to the plate? Jesse was still trying to work that one out.

Part of that changed after her brother died. Something had broken inside her, exposing a vulnerability he had never seen before, and probably no one else had, either. The ice and snow Dominion operative all at once became a flesh and blood woman, one that aroused all his protective instincts, and he couldn't help but respond. Ignoring all her warnings, he simply pulled her into his arms and held her, saying nothing, just letting his offering of support and compassion speak for him. She resisted his embrace at first, then slowly, unwillingly, even resentfully, her rigid posture began to ease as her grief exploited every tiny fissure in her armor, eroding the cracks, forcing them wider, until it burst forth in a torrent she could no longer hold back. She broke down with wrenching, cathartic sobs.

The storm didn't last long and embarrassed her to no end, but he didn't see it that way. Something changed for him, too. Feeling her cling to him, her tears hot and damp on his skin and shirt, revved his senses in ways he never experienced before. He saw all the pain and misery she kept hidden deep inside, not only at the loss of her beloved twin brother, but also the bitterness and anger of the lone wolf she forced herself to become out of sheer survival. He saw the taint left by her years as a mercenary, the shadows on her soul from Genomex and the Dominion. In a flash of insight he suddenly understood that she kept herself so aloof because, between her work and her mutation, she knew she was living on borrowed time, so there was no point in allowing herself to feel softer, more human emotions like friendship or love. His old psychology textbook characterized this behavior as a common defense mechanism, but Jesse knew with a sudden, bleak certainty that there was more to it than that. Deep down, she didn't believe she was destined for any kind of happiness; worse, that she didn't deserve it because of the life she led. That realization moved him and shook him as nothing in his life ever had, his heart constricting so much that he hurt with her, and made him want with everything inside him to take that hurt away.

Her barriers went right back up afterward, as he knew they would, and she was as touchy as a bear with a sore paw about her meltdown. She had her claws ready to rip him to shreds the first time he alluded to her meltdown by either word or action, but although it took just about all the willpower he had, he did his best to treat her as though nothing untoward had happened. Intuitively he understood that she needed someone she could trust with something as intensely personal as this, someone she could talk to if she could ever bring herself to unbend that far, who could accept her for who she was, the light and the dark. He believed he could be that someone. He wanted to be that someone.

Moreover, she badly needed what he had to give. He didn't agree with a lot of the choices she made in her life, but he didn't condemn her for them, either. Those choices cost her dearly, shriveling the natural spiritual buffers of faith and hope until all that was left was the cold insulation of an imprisoning emotional mask. He wanted to be the one to release her from that prison, to lift the mask when the weight got too heavy. Lexa needed to learn that she didn't have to be in control 24/7, that every now and then it was okay to lean a little bit on someone else. That required trust, and he thought he made a good first step in earning it after her brother died. She opened up to him, if only a little and only briefly. Responding as he did might make it easier for her the next time.

And there could very well be a next time, he reflected as he sipped his cooling cappuccino. She seemed to look at him with new eyes these days, and there was a noticeable thawing in her demeanor towards him. She actually sought him out occasionally during quiet evenings at Sanctuary, and he found her to be an engaging companion, as long as the topic wasn't her, with an aces chess game and a wickedly dry sense of humor. He, in turn, was more at ease around her, confident enough to tease her, to argue with her, and it pleased him to no end whenever he managed to discomfit her by pushing a few of her buttons. They weren't on an equal footing quite yet, but they were getting there. Where it would lead Jesse had no idea, but for the first time he was beginning to enjoy the chase. He would probably end up with a few scars of his own, certainly not a pleasant prospect, but what was life without a little risk? Lexa was worth it. If he played his cards right, they might actually have something good together.

Dinner last night was the first move in his new campaign to win her. They had all agreed that they needed to start discussing contingency plans for what they felt was an inevitable reckoning with the Dominion. Originally they were going to go out for a beer and a bite to eat, but then Brennan bowed out, opting to remain behind in case Shalimar called. Jesse quickly took advantage of the opportunity by choosing a restaurant with a much more romantic ambience than he would had there been three of them, a charming little out-of-the-way trattoria of which he was fond. He rattled off their order in flawless Italian, selected a wine with the expertise of a connoisseur, and in general treated her with a debonair Continental charm that he never displayed around Sanctuary.Jesse knew he scored some major points when she couldn't quite hide a flicker of surprise at this hitherto-unknown side of him. So far so good.

They made some decent progress over the excellent risotto and exquisite veal Milanese, hammering out a list of things they would need if, in the worst case, they had to abandon Sanctuary, but despite the seriousness of the subject, there was a certain… something… between them just beneath the surface, a feeling that he couldn't put a name to. Intimacy was too strong a word; it was more like an undercurrent of ease, or a gradual relaxation of their respective guards. Whatever it was, for the first time Jesse thought he was making some headway. Now he needed to capitalize on it. But how? A movie was the safest bet, but he didn't think that 'safe' was the right way to go. Lexa responded to action. Would she agree to a full-fledged date, without the pretense of Mutant X business to use as an excuse?

The rapid click of approaching boot heels on the tile floor distracted him from his dilemma. Looking up, he saw Lexa coming toward them with a determined stride, her body language closed and tight. Involuntarily, Jesse tensed. He knew trouble coming when he saw it.

"You fueled up the Helix yesterday, didn't you?" she asked Brennan, coming to a stop between them.

Brennan regarded her warily over the top of his screen.

"And did a routine check on the flight systems, why?"

"I'll explain on the way." She turned and started back the way she came, expecting the others to follow.

"Whoa!" He rose, moving with deceptive speed to slide his bulk in front of her, cutting her off. "On the way where?"

"Yeah, and what's the big rush?" Jesse put in. He was also on his feet.

Lexa stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"We need to get to San Francisco. I think someone may be going after Shalimar."