CHAPTER 5 – ALONE

Sierra blinked, trying to stay awake. She checked her phone; she had plugged it in to charge. It was just after 5am. She didn't even want to count how many hours it had been since she last had a proper night's sleep. They would have to go, though. They weren't safe here. She nudged Rick.

"Time to go. You have 5 minutes to use the bathroom, then we're leaving."

He mumbled groggily, so she shoved him again.

"Get up."

She got out some water and the biscuits, then quickly packed away all their stuff. She peeked out of the window at the breaking dawn – they really had to move it. Rick staggered to the bathroom. Sierra took her toothbrush out of her bag and sprayed on some deodorant. She wanted a shower but there wasn't time. Rick put his head around the door and saw her brushing.

"Can I borrow that?"

She stared at him. "What? No."

"Why?"

"I'll buy you some breath mints."

"Thanks, but I like having clean teeth. Never even had a filling."

Sierra raised her eyebrows. "You're not using my toothbrush."

Rick grinned. "I'll play you for it."

"Are you done in there? Because we have to go."

"You have to use the bathroom too. I can tell. I won't let you in unless you let me use that."

Sierra groaned, and handed him the toothbrush. He popped it in his mouth without rinsing it. She made a face, then handed him her gun.

"If it moves, shoot it. Unless it's me."

She locked the door and used the facilities as quickly as possible. When she came out, he was still admiring her gun, nibbling on her toothbrush. She snatched the brush and rinsed it, then put it back in the bag and took her gun from him.

"You have more than one gun. Can I have one?"

"You looked through my stuff?"

"I'm a spy too."

"You can't have a gun. Do you even know how to use one?"

"You could teach me."

She sighed. "When we get to the safe house, if you haven't annoyed me on the way there, I'll show you how to use my back up piece."

Rick grinned from ear to ear.

"Are you going to steal another car?"

"You are such a child. Yes. Come on, let's go."

He followed her out happily, looking around the parking lot.

"Oh, pleeease can we take the Aston Martin? Come on, British spy! It would be criminal not to!"

Sierra sighed, but went over to the Aston.

"Show me how you do it," he said, leaning in far too close. She grabbed hold of his ear and he squealed, then backed off. She slid the wire through the window, unlocked the door, quickly cut the alarm wire, and opened the hood to start the engine. Rick watched her intently, munching on his biscuits.

"Don't make crumbs in the Aston," she told him sternly. He threw away the packet and brushed his fingers on his shirt. Sierra laughed.

"You should do that more often."

"Do what?"

"Laugh. You look pretty when you laugh."

She didn't answer for a moment, then brushed it out of her mind. He couldn't be hitting on her. She had shot his girlfriend less than 24 hours ago.

"I could drive," he said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"You know I can drive. I drove yesterday. And you need to sleep. You're tired."

Sierra sighed. He was right. She had already let him drive. She opened the driver's door for him and got into the passenger seat. She set up her phone so he could see it.

"Just follow the directions – it's all programmed. Think you can manage?"

"Oh yeah. I take direction very well."

More innuendo. Sierra ignored it, and flopped back against the seat. She was exhausted. In minutes she was fast asleep.

Rick watched her. She was cute. Her blonde hair fanned out over her shoulders, and for once her face muscles were relaxed. The phone was taking him along more and more obscure roads – he hadn't seen a single car since he'd left the road the motel had been on. With his protector pretty much unconscious, he suddenly felt a little nervous.

He drove on, feeling more and more alone. He had half a mind to wake her up – she would snap at him, but at least he'd have someone to talk to. For all his bravado and childish antics, it was beginning to dawn on him that he was in real danger, and what he had overheard the night before hadn't made the prognosis look good. His girlfriend had only been with him to kill him – and now her associates were also out for his blood. He was in a stolen car with a lone British agent, who's help was far away and would take a long time to reach them. Even this super strong woman had seemed worried last night. No one would miss him, his mother wouldn't check in with him for weeks yet unless she needed something. He had nothing. No friends. All he had was Sierra, a girl who didn't even have a real name.

He wondered if she was afraid. He thought she was, but she was good at hiding it. She would protect him, he was sure. But knowing so little about the forces against them somehow made him feel all the more threatened.

It was fully light now, but the sky was grey and it was beginning to drizzle. He wished he could do anything, even have the radio on, to make him feel less alone.

Sierra was standing at the edge of the river, looking at the flowing black hair of the woman she was about to execute. She raised her weapon and fired the shots. Two little pops, and the body sailed over the precipice.

But there was a thud. She ran to the edge. Instead of falling into the Hudson, the body had fallen into an alleyway that was all too familiar. On her back, bleeding out in a pile of garbage-

And her face. Sierra screamed. This was not Sophia Turner. This was someone else. She knelt by the body, desperately trying to revive the woman she had killed, but it was pointless. She was gone.

She was shaking violently, jolting-

"Sierra? Sierra, wake up! Are you okay?"

She shivered. Rick's hand was on her shoulder; he had been trying to wake her.

"I'm fine writer boy, just keep driving."

He looked at her suspiciously. She had been screaming, yelling, calling out – calling out for her mother.

"You're worried, aren't you?"

Sierra sighed – Rick noticed that she did that a lot. "It was just a dream, Castle. Forget it."

He nodded, and returned his eyes to the road. Sierra tried to relax again, leaning back in the seat. Her head was hot and itchy; she wished she could take the wig off, but she would wait until she could shower. She hoped there would be a decent bathroom at the safe house – she had been texted the location in the early hours of that morning.

They actually weren't far off now. She'd slept for a good six hours.

"You need a break, Castle?"

He shook his head. "It says only a couple of hours left."

"We should get some food and stuff before we go to the house."

"What'll it be like?"

"Don't know. Never been there."

Rick frowned.

"When you were dreaming... you talked a little bit. And you didn't have a British accent."

Sierra bit her lip.

"Dreams are weird."

"Sure. Of course. MI6. British."

"Look, don't stress. I really am MI6. Promise."

"I believe you. Is your mother from Manhattan, maybe?"

Sierra looked at him. "She was."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a while ago."

Rick could see she didn't want to talk about it, so he did his best to keep his mouth shut. She looked out of the window at the rain – it was getting harder. There was a storm coming. And they were going to be caught up in the middle of it.


A/N: I realise I've messed with the timeline a bit – this is set about 2007 – Sierra is aged 27, Rick is 37, and he just met Sophia when he was a bit older, stayed with her a bit longer, and never met Meredith or had Alexis. (adding this note to the beginning as well, this is for the ones who have already read the first chapter)

Thanks for reading, please review!

Z