After a good night's sleep Alison woke in a better frame of mind. It also helped being able to talk to Flint before she left for work to confirm that he had arrived in England safely.

"Yep, we had no problems. The ride was so smooth, I was even able to sleep through most of it." Flint paused. "Al, I want to say again I'm sorry for last night."

"Don't be," she said. She looked in the mirror and ran her hand through her damp hair. Satisfied with her standard morning hair routine, she walked out of the bathroom. "I admit I was disappointed and pretty bummed out on the ride home, but I know it's not your fault. I was just looking forward to having some company last night."

"I was too. But the good news is that our schedule was confirmed this morning, and I'm heading back on Saturday. Since I have to present my report on Monday to the brass, I'll be there for at least a couple of days. And then I promise to make up for last night."

"I'm going to hold you to that. I hate to go, but I'm running late. Love you." Once Flint echoed the statement, she hung up. Alison smiled. She knew she shouldn't get her hopes up as the previous night was proof of how often schedules changed, but she was cautiously optimistic for the weekend ahead.

She climbed into her car, needing to nudge the seat back in order to fit behind the steering wheel. Once again, the baby seemed to grow drastically overnight. She did the count in her head and realized that she had officially entered her third trimester. She felt a brief moment of panic as that meant she was in the final stretch, and that the baby would be arriving within three months.

She used the drive into work to construct a rudimentary timeline for those months. During one of their lunch hours together, Richard had asked her about her maternity leave plans. She had admitted that she hadn't given it a lot of thought, but she knew she owed it to her coworkers and herself to figure it out as soon as possible.

The one thing she hoped was that she would be fully trained and working as an actual intelligence analyst before she took the time off. To help accomplish that goal, Alison decided it was time to expand her research. When she arrived at her office, instead of starting on the daily stack as usual, she searched out Richard.

"I was wondering if it was okay if I can log onto the computers?" Alison asked once she found him sitting at his desk.

"I believe you have the clearance for it. Why, what are you looking for?"

"I've learned a lot of interesting tidbits about the various groups, but the problem with these reports is that they only tell you where they are now. Which is fine, but I want to check out their history as well."

Richard smiled. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to make the leap. I'd like you to still start each day getting up to speed on the current threat level, but once that is done, you are free to expand your search. But maybe I can help you out first. Any particular group you're focusing on?"

"I have a short list. I noticed there are a couple of sects that seem like they are trying to make a name for themselves. And then there is one that I have tangled with myself."

"Cobra?" Richard asked.

Alison shook her head. "I'm actually very well-versed in how they got their start. But you're close, it's Cobra-La," she said. Richard grimaced, so she continued. "I know it's probably a waste of time, as they were defeated in the Himalayas and don't appear to be a threat any longer. But they had seemed to pop up out of nowhere, that I want to look into how we completely missed them."

"Alison, I understand your curiosity. The reason why I wish you didn't pick them is that the prevailing theory around here is that they never existed."

"What?" Alison was shocked. "I, and most of the Joe team personally fought them hand to hand. So what, they think we made them up?"

Richard grimaced again. "There is the thought that it was done as a publicity stunt. But it's only a minority opinion," he quickly added.

"What is the majority opinion?"

"That they were a radical, but mostly harmless part of Cobra, caught up in the reptile motif and mythology."

Alison opened her mouth to argue that her time spent cocooned against a tree in the Cobra-La lair was more than a myth, and far from harmless, but she realized that he would probably question her sanity. Instead she kept her thoughts to herself, and begrudgingly conceded the idea. "Maybe, but if you don't mind, I still would like to look into their history."

Richard nodded. "Have at it, but don't waste too much time chasing after ghosts." She turned to leave but he stopped her. "Why don't you join threat assessment meeting later this afternoon? It'll give you an appreciation as to what gets reported to the generals and what doesn't."

Alison agreed and she returned to her desk. She decided to put her background search on hold to devote her full attention to that day's daily brief. She wanted to be prepared for the threat assessment meeting. A few minutes before the meeting was due to start, she rose when Hawk did and followed him into the hallway. He smiled at her. "I heard you were joining us this afternoon. Richard gave me a glowing review of you, which I have to admit, doesn't surprise me."

Alison blushed. "Thank you, General, that means a lot." She wasn't lying. After all of the time she spent trying to impress General Bradshaw to no avail, hearing Hawk's compliments restored some of her self-confidence. They entered the conference room, where Alison took the empty seat next to Richard.

The meeting started right on time. Alison was glad she had done her homework because she recognized most of the groups that were brought up. However, a few events were referenced that she wasn't aware of, and she spent most of the hour scribbling notes to herself.

Once the meeting wrapped up, she stayed seated to finish her note-taking. Not only did she have some things she wanted to research, but a couple of the points brought up triggered her 'following a hunch mode'. Before she returned to her office she wanted to get a handle on her thoughts that had started to run rampant.

She jotted down a few more ideas, and then satisfied that her work was complete, she stood up. She gathered her things, and then as she turned to leave she was startled to see that General Cavanaugh, the general that had hounded her for a cup of coffee a few days prior was still in the room.

"I think your friends left you behind," he said with a smile that was more like a leer.

Alison went on alert. She was painfully aware that it was only the two of them left in the room. But she still tried to keep a calm exterior. She smiled. "Yes, sir. I wanted to jot down a few notes, and I didn't realize how long it took."

General Cavanaugh pointed at her. "So, you have a bun in the oven?"

Alison cringed but she kept her facial expression the same. "Yes, that's true."

"When are you due?"

"April," she answered. She then made an attempt at her escape. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but General Hawk is expecting me."

General Cavanaugh made no attempt to move. "Is your husband okay with you working?"

Alison's emotions were quickly moving from one of fear, to one of anger. But she still kept a calm and cool exterior. "He is."

She again tried to make an excuse to leave, but he interrupted her. "I don't get that. My wife was free to work up until she told me she was pregnant with our first born. We had an agreement that once the kids arrived, they were her priority. If she wanted to get a part time job while they were in school, that was fine, but I wanted her home while they were home. We raised four very good boys and girls that way. If you ask me, kids need a mother in their life that's not distracted."

Alison found it harder to keep the smile on her face. "Thanks for the advice, but we'll see what happens in the next few months." She then took a step to try and get around him, but he stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"Doesn't your husband worry about you working in such a risky environment?"

Alison looked at him a moment as she tried to figure out why he considered the Pentagon such a dangerous place. She decided it was time to clue the general into the fact that she wasn't as defenseless as he assumed. "No, he's not worried. Since I spent time on the Joe team, he knows I can handle myself."

This time it was the general that took a moment to think about what she said. He stared at her and then with a disturbing grin said, "Ah, so you're the ex-Joe that was kicked out for her affair with her superior."

Even though it seemed like the general was only repeating a fact, warning bells again went off in Alison's head. She didn't know how to respond to the comment. Luckily, General Cavanaugh didn't seem to be expecting an answer. He grinned at her a final time and then left the room.

Once he was gone, Alison realized her heart was pounding. Which was probably silly. She was sure the general was just a creepy philanderer, and other than making her feel uncomfortable meant no physical harm. But she was still concerned about his final statement.

And what really worried her was that if he did make a move against her, she wasn't even sure if she could defend herself against him. Not only did her pregnancy put her at a disadvantage, but she hadn't had a good workout since before Thanksgiving. She tried to stay in shape with walking and the occasional visit to the onsite weight room, but she knew it wasn't the same as training under Beachhead. And she could tell that she didn't have the same strength and agility that she once had.

She entered her office and took a seat at her desk. Unfortunately, the general derailed the train of thought she had been on in the conference room. She decided to revisit her notes in the morning, and spent the rest of the afternoon taking care of some of the monotonous items on her to-do list.

At the end of the day, she tidied up her desk and then stood to leave. Instead of the cursory goodbyes she normally said to her coworkers she walked over to Beachhead's desk. "Wayne, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he replied without looking up from the document he was studying.

"I was wondering if you maybe had some time either before or after work to do some training with me again."

That got his attention. He picked his face up. "Excuse me?"

"I realized earlier today that I've really let myself go the last couple of months. So I was hoping you could get me back on track."

"Are you serious? What about?" he asked as he waved his hand towards her stomach.

"I know. That's why I'm coming to you. I was hoping you could tailor your training so I could get a good workout without hurting myself."

"First off, I'm not a personal trainer. Secondly, I don't have the first clue into what makes up a pregnancy friendly work out. Go for long walks, lift a few light weights, and then come see me once the baby is born. Then I can work with you."

Alison folded her arms across her chest. The fact that she could now rest her arms on the shelf her stomach made gave credence to his argument. But it was also why she needed the help. "Wayne, I've been doing that." She sighed. She was trying not to admit the true reason she was seeking his help, because she didn't want to alarm him, but it looked like she didn't have a choice. "What I'm looking for is a version of your patented one on training. I'm not looking for your standard Rawhide beat-down, but I'm hoping you can teach me a few things so I can defend myself if needed while in this condition."

Beachhead raised an eyebrow at her. "Why? Is someone giving you a hard time?"

"No, not really. I know I'm totally overreacting. But I did realize that if someone was, I don't think I'd be able to protect myself like I used to."

Beachhead nodded. "Okay. I'm booked in the mornings, but if you want to stay late in the afternoon, I'll help you out. But on one condition. You make sure Flint is okay with this, because I am not going to deal with his bullshit."

She readily agreed, and after making plans to meet the following afternoon, she bid her farewells to Beachhead and then drove home. That night she intended to keep her promise to Beachhead, but after she called Flint, she learned that this time she had been the one to wake him up. Even though he tried to keep up his side of the conversation, it quickly became apparent that he wasn't listening to a word she said. So after telling him to go back to sleep, she hung up. It was a few minutes later that she realized that she didn't inform Flint of her new training regimen.

Flint walked into his temporary office keeping the forced grin on his face. He had just endured a two-hour long dinner with the higher-ranking members of Action Force. He was impressed with himself that he managed to keep himself calm, cool and collected while his blood pressure was skyrocketing. Anvil had warned him prior to his trip to be alert for a double-cross by the British team. At first Flint thought the general had been overly paranoid as the previous days were spent in a what seemed like a typical joint training exercise.

So when Raymond Trent, the commander of Action Force, asked Flint to join him for a dinner honoring the achievements of the past week Flint eagerly accepted. However, it soon became clear that the dinner was a ruse for Action Force to let their true intentions be known.

"Cheers to our counterpart from across the pond. Officer Faireborn's report will go a long way in not only making us the premier anti-terrorist force in Europe, but the world!"

"Excuse me?" Flint asked as he dumbly held his glass in mid-air.

Commander Trent continued on, oblivious to Flint's confusion. "We stand ready and look forward to working with the Joe team in the future."

Once Trent sat down, Flint asked him what had just happened. "I apologize for the bit of deceptive practice, but we needed an impartial observer, and who better than one of the commanders of the Joe team. However, we were concerned that if you knew the true reason behind this exercise, your personal feelings would cloud your judgment."

Flint begrudgingly admitted that was true. To find out that Action Force was threatening the Joes territory was infuriating. But by not knowing their true intent also influenced his final report. While Action Force didn't have any major deficiencies, Flint wrote the overly glowing report with the idea of bettering the rapport between the two teams.

As he took a seat at his desk, he tried to calm himself down. What's done was done. Then he noticed a piece of paper that replaced his forced grin with a real one. It was his flight plan home. The following day he was going to be back in D.C.

Nearly twenty-four hours later, Flint arrived back on US soil. After the debacle earlier in the week. he had held off on calling Alison to inform her of his plans to visit. But now that he was in D.C., with no firm plans to return to Joe HQ, he figured it was time to tell her he was in town.

He dialed her office number that he now knew by heart, but the phone rang without an answer. He was about to hang up when a strange voice finally answered. "Hello, you've reached the desk of Alison Faireborn."

Flint had to admit he took pride in hearing his last name attached to Alison's. "Yes, hello, this is her husband. Is she there?"

"No, she left a few minutes early. I believe she's doing some training with Mr. Sneeden."

"Really? What kind of training?"

"I'm sorry, I really don't know."

"Okay. I'm actually headed your way, but if you could leave her a message to call me, I would appreciate it."

It was a completely innocent statement, but Flint couldn't help but dwell on the reason why Alison would need to spend the last part of her day training with Beachhead. As he called for a cab to take him to the Pentagon, he figured he would have his answer shortly.

"Your balance is off," Beachhead remarked as he once again stepped back.

Alison sighed in exasperation. "No kidding. I have a three-pound baby I'm carrying in front of me."

Beachhead eyed her. "So where did the other twenty pounds come from?"

It was enough to enrage Alison. She reared back and threw a near-perfect punch. Beachhead blocked it with ease, but he smiled at her. "That's what I'm looking for." He reached for the water bottle and handed it to her. "Do you want to take a break?"

"No, I'm good. Let's keep going."

Alison became so engrossed in the training that she didn't notice when a spectator joined them, until he let out a slow clap. Alison turned towards the door and gasped out, "Dash!" as she ran towards him. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

He hugged her. "This time the schedule change was in our favor. What's going on in here?"

"Beach has been given me some one on one personal training."

Flint looked towards Beachhead. "Really? Why is that?"

Beachhead interrupted the conversation. "I made it quite clear that I wasn't going to do this unless you cleared it with him first."

"I meant to," Alison replied sheepishly. "However, we really haven't talked much the last few days."

Beachhead shook his head. "I'm not doing this. Enjoy your weekend together, I will see you on Monday."

After he left, Flint turned towards her. "Alison, talk to me. Why are you doing this?"

Alison tried to downplay the situation. "It's not a big deal. I realized the other day that I was really out of shape, and I asked Beachhead to work with me."

Flint eyed her for a moment and then he shook his head. "Come on, tell me the truth. Beach wasn't doing standard exercises with you, you were basically boxing with him."

"You're right, I did ask him to teach me some self-defense moves I can use while in this condition." She waved off his next outburst. "Before you get worked up, it's only because I was totally overreacting to a sexist general."

"The same one that gave you a hard time last week?" Flint asked. After she nodded he continued, "Do I have to meet this jackass?"

Alison smiled and then kissed him. "That's not necessary."

"I think that's debatable. But for now, how about we head home?"

"We could do that. Or you could show me a few moves of your own."

Flint smiled. "If that's what you want."

Alison explained that Beachhead was going to show her how she could defend herself from a sneak attack from behind. Flint nodded and then walked her through the steps. He acted out the part of an assailant coming up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her up against him. But instead of continuing out the fake attack he stopped.

"Dash?" she asked. He responded by burying his face into her neck and kissing her deeply.

Her breath caught as she lost herself in the sensations. It had been so long since the two of them had been alone together. His hands roamed over her breasts, while she moaned. But when his one hand proceeded lower, he suddenly stopped and pulled away.

She turned around to face him. "No, don't stop. This place is practically deserted on a Friday night."

"Al, I can't. Not like this. Let's go home and…"

She cut him off. "What's the problem? This is the second time you've done this and you've never been bashful of public places before. Is it because we're married?" Before Flint could answer, she continued. "No, I get it. I'm guessing it's hard to be turned on by this," she said as she waved at her maternity shirt.

Flint grabbed her hand. "Alison, no, at least not in the way you mean. I love the way you look now. You may not believe it, but it is a turn-on. It's just that it's pretty obvious now that there is a third person with us, and I'm afraid of hurting either one of you."

"So what are you saying? No sex until she's born?"

Flint looked shocked. "No! I want you so badly right now, it's actually painful. But the thought of trying to have stealthy sex right here and now seems both uncomfortable and awkward."

Alison couldn't help but laugh. "I guess you're right. But are you sure I don't repulse you?"

"Let me take you home and I'll prove it to you."