Author's Note: First of all, thank you to everyone who reviewed and was so patient during the recent posting mishap. I have been blessed to lead a fairly healthy life, so any small sickness tends to really knock me out. I'm back on my feet, and have been for most of the week, so there should be fewer delays in posting.

Laura: Thank you for the review! It always makes me smile when someone "has to comment." While I don't make anything on these, it's great to hear a story is impacting someone in some way. I do promise we'll hear more about Nicky and Jason, but this story and these characters needed time to develop. Aaron and Jason doing "normal" things was fun to write as well, especially with the mindset each of them have concerning survival.

Lisa: I loved your comment on Chandler. I read a book once where a Navy SEAL sniper showed just how dangerous snipers can be. He took the main character out to a field where four of his buddies had had only fifteen minutes to set up. She couldn't find them, and his point was this: If you try to stop a sniper after he's been sent, you fail. The only way to stop a sniper is to stop him before he's sent. I've tried to keep that in mind. And the friendship between Aaron and Jason. . . .That one is developing so naturally. So I'm glad that came across on the page.

Kare38: Thank you! When I thought about Aaron and Marta, they just seemed the type to go their separate ways for a while. I'm not the type to have an OTP, but Aaron and Marta are my OTP. (One True Pairing.) They just need to learn how to stand on their own feet after all the events of the movie. Besides, flawed characters are real characters, and we connect with them. If I can't connect with a character, I don't want to read and/or write about him/her. :) So I try to put that in all my stories.

All that said, I hope you enjoy the chapter! ~lg

oOo

The cuts on his fists stung as Jason sat on the edge of a bed and stared at them. He'd barely made it out alive, his target sending men after him and making Jason wonder if he'd been compromised from the get-go. This mission had been a total failure, and the only saving grace was that he'd managed to take out his target. Conklin wasn't happy with his performance, but Jason could do nothing about it. He'd just come from a shouting match with Treadstone's head, and neither man could say they'd reached an understanding. Jason's cover had been blown, and he'd had to fight his way out.

Gentle hands reached for him, and he blinked as Nicky knelt in front of him. She had gathered a bowl of warm water, bandages, and cloths to clean the dried blood from his knuckles. Normally, he didn't take so many injuries, but he'd managed to catch one guy with his mouth open. The smell of blood had turned his attackers into sharks. He knew he was sporting one spectacular black eye, and his split lip stung as well.

Without saying a word, Nicky started bathing his hands in the warm water, and Jason let her. She had a healing touch, and something in the care she showed him touched him on a deeper level than he'd ever known. He reached out with his least injured hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Thank you."

She smiled up at him but didn't say anything. Jason appreciated that. She knew he didn't need an overabundance of words to make him feel comfortable, and she went out of her way to avoid talking all that much. Though, he did wish at times that she would be more open with him. Treadstone expected him—and all the agents based out of Paris—to spill everything to Nicky. She needed an outlet where she could spill her own doubts and fears.

As she finished treating his left hand and moved on to his right, Jason sighed. "You shouldn't be here. Conklin will find out."

She glanced at him again. "If he does?"

"Nicky, you know we're not even supposed to see each other outside of work."

She rocked back on her heels. "Jason, I'm here to see to your well-being. At least, as far as Conklin's concerned. I am your psychologist, after all, and a mission turning so bad has got to cause some real issues. I'm just doing my job and making certain you're going to be okay."

He smirked. "I like the way you think."

She rose just enough to kiss him. "You love the way I think."

Jason blinked awake, not needing the dream to know what happened next. He clenched his fists under the blankets, feeling the sting of fresh cuts on his right hand as he nearly growled. Why was he having these dreams about Nicky? He shouldn't be. Or should he? Was he remembering or creating? Had he really loved her, as the dreams suggested? Or was it some imagined desire after seeing Aaron and Marta together? The Outcome agent's natural friendliness had been dampened by the program's training, but he still managed to exhibit more openness than Jason could imagine. Was Jason simply wanting that companionship with someone and projecting onto Nicky?

Pushing out of bed, he again pulled on his running shoes and left the house. It was a bit closer to dawn this time, and he'd managed four hours of deep sleep. That would be enough to get him through the coming day.

As usual, running put his thoughts in order, and Jason decided that he wouldn't let Nicky change the subject next time they talked. He needed to know what they were to one another, and he didn't care if she wanted it left alone. He was driving himself crazy with these dreams, and he wanted to know whether they were nothing more than a natural male reaction to an attractive woman or if they were actual memories. Until he could be certain, he doubted he'd get a good night's sleep.

oOo

Marta knew what it felt like to be watched. Aaron had taught her, through a lot of trial and error, not to ignore that suspicion that someone was keeping an eye on her. At first, she'd thought she was just being paranoid, that she was reacting badly to being on the run, and that it would get better. But she'd been wrong. Aaron said she had good instincts, and they had proven right time and time again.

But she'd been in Chicago for nearly eight months. In that time, she had suppressed the feeling that everyone was watching her and the need to avoid security cameras. As months passed, she no longer suspected the guy at the coffee shop that checked her out was part of NRAG or any of the programs that had hunted them. In fact, she had been a bit miffed until Aaron admitted he did the same thing when she walked past. Then, she'd been complimented.

To have the sensation creep along the back of her neck now, while she stood in her kitchen making a small dinner, was disconcerting. Marta kept stirring the vegetables, but she glanced around. Her home was secure, Nicky was at work, and nothing seemed out of place. She flipped off the burner on the stove and moved to chop a few more veggies for her chicken as she eyed her windows. Nothing seemed out of place, the setting sun still glinted off the windows of neighboring buildings, and she couldn't see why she'd feel that way. Nevertheless, she made the decision to finish her meal quickly and disappear into her bedroom. She had a book she'd wanted to read for a long time, and her work from the lab could wait until morning.

As she finished cooking, Marta wondered if Nicky ever had this sensation. The Treadstone handler had seen her fair share of people sent to kill her and seemed to have good instincts. But Nicky wasn't there to talk to. She'd taken a part-time job as a barista while she hunted for an apartment of her own and a better paying occupation. From what she told Marta, the CIA had offered to reinstate her psychology licenses and help her open her own practice, but she wasn't certain she wanted to get back into the field. Marta understood. She, too, had hesitated when the CIA set up her current job, and it had been Aaron that convinced her to go back to work.

Aaron had done a lot for her, Marta mused as she carried her plate to her bedroom, where the curtains blocked anyone from seeing into the apartment. She made a mental note to invest in some curtains for the rest of the apartment right away and ate her dinner as she thought about the man she loved. She couldn't call him her "boyfriend" because they'd only had one date and had picked out tile for his house. But she couldn't say they were just dating, either. The uncertainty was both exhilarating and annoying. He'd been adamant that they weren't going to go on just one date and then fall back into their routine. And, for the first time in months, Marta didn't want to return to that mundane existence. There was an excitement about Aaron that she craved, but she hadn't realized she missed it until he'd no longer been in her life.

Picking up her book, she forced herself to focus until she eventually became lost in the story. She was so intrigued with the mystery that, when Nicky knocked on her door, she jumped. "Sorry." She laughed lightly.

Nicky frowned. "Good book?"

"Very," Marta agreed dryly.

Nicky eyed her plate and glass. "Why are you in here?"

Marta met the woman's eyes. "Ever felt like you were being watched?"

Nicky didn't question it. "When?"

"A couple hours ago, before the sun went down." Marta gathered her dishes and carried them into the kitchen. The sensation didn't return. "It's gone now, but I could have sworn. . . ."

"Don't ignore it," Nicky interrupted. She pulled out her phone. "Any idea how long or where?"

"No." Marta stared at her. "Aaron taught me all this, and he told me to be careful the other night. Code words for 'We might be followed.' And I've been careful, but I haven't noticed anything until now."

Nicky's eyes went to the open windows. "That was a week ago? Then I'd suspect it was a too-nosy neighbor. But you might want to get curtains."

Marta nodded. "Yeah." She rinsed her plate and stuck it in the dishwasher, deciding to change the subject. "How was work?"

Nicky rolled her eyes. "Serving coffee, listening to customers, and acting like I don't want to bolt every time someone comes into the door."

"I felt like that when I first started working," Marta replied. "It'll get better."

Nicky agreed with a nod, and the two decided to watch a movie before bed. By the time Marta retired, her thoughts from earlier in the evening had returned. Along with one question. Did she tell Aaron about the feeling of being watched? And, if she did, how would he react?

oOo

Chandler stepped out of the bathroom and wandered back to the window to peer through the binoculars. Shearing's apartment was quiet, the two women in their respective rooms and obviously turning in for the night. He'd kept the video camera recording, intending to go back and see if he could lip-read what they spoke about. But he had his doubts. Shearing and her guest, Nicolette Parsons, were careful women. Both had been on the run for years and, though they'd settled for the first time in a long time, those instincts wouldn't fade.

Marta had known about him, hence why he decided to leave the camera recording and make dinner. He'd seen the way she checked her surroundings and glanced at the windows as if looking for him. He wouldn't be surprised if she suddenly invested in curtains. It would make her appear paranoid, but sometimes that was a good thing. Paranoia would only complicate Chandler's job, though. It meant he'd need to get into the apartment and plant listening devices as well as hidden cameras. He could do that, but he'd need for them to both leave for a length of time. Since Parsons worked at a coffee shop, her schedule varied. As it was, there was only about an hour where the home was ever unoccupied. And he'd need at least three to get everything in and hidden appropriately.

Letting out a deep sigh, he started playing back the recording as Shearing extinguished her light and made up his mind. Next time the women left at the same time for anything other than their jobs, he'd find a way into that apartment. He had to. Otherwise, they might not get the intel they needed. Without that intel, they couldn't make their next move.

oOo

Two weeks after the cookout at Aaron's, Nicky found herself in Marta's kitchen, frowning at the marinara sauce she'd made. It was missing something, but she hadn't truly cooked in so long that she couldn't remember all of the recipe.

She had just dipped the spoon back into it to taste again when the door opened and Marta breezed in. The virologist had planned to sleep in and take the day to relax, but work had called at the worst possible time. She'd made a Sunday trip to the lab to rescue a project and looked as if she needed to strangle someone. Instead, Nicky ambushed her. "Here. Taste this."

Marta blinked but obeyed. "That's good." She thought for a moment. "Tried adding a touch of salt? And maybe some garlic?"

Nicky reached for the salt shaker and dumped some more in there. Then, after tasting it again, she nodded. "That's better."

Marta leaned against the counter, kicking off her shoes as she did so. "What's the occasion?"

"Jason's birthday." When Marta blinked, Nicky continued, "He doesn't remember much before Treadstone started hunting him. Not even his true birthday. And he likes homemade pizza."

"I'm not going to ask how you know that," Marta replied, heading off to her bedroom. "You taking it out to him?"

"I had planned on it." Nicky didn't tell Marta that this was the problematic part of her plan. She and Jason had gone to dinner again on Friday, and he'd mentioned that Aaron wanted to finish the kitchen over the weekend.

Marta reappeared a few moments later, dressed in comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. "I'll go with you. Aaron wanted me to help with the tiling, and a birthday party's better than sitting here and watching movies."

Solved that problem, Nicky thought. "Is Aaron's oven working?"

"I think so."

"Good. We'll put the pizzas together there." Nicky started gathering up the canvas totes still holding most of the ingredients. She'd gone to the grocery store that morning and still hadn't unpacked everything. Within ten minutes, the two women had locked the apartment and piled into Nicky's car. She insisted on driving because, if the marinara sauce spilled, she didn't want to ruin Marta's car.

As she drove, she studied the other woman. Marta looked tired, but her expression seemed to lighten the closer they got to Arlington Heights. Nicky knew from personal experience that having the man she loved some distance away was hard. In this instance, only an hour's drive separated Aaron and Marta. But their relationship was back in the "honeymoon" stage since they'd reconnected.

They arrived just as Aaron hefted a large box from his truck. He turned as Nicky parked carefully, his expression a mix between welcome and confusion. Marta hopped out, rushing to quietly explain why they'd showed up while Nicky gathered up the supplies they'd brought. Aaron's face cleared quickly, and he set down the heavy box before rushing over to help Nicky with the marinara sauce.

Inside, the house looked halfway livable again. Dust still coated everything, and the kitchen was missing the sink, paint, and the backsplash. Jason lay on his back under where the sink belonged, tightening some plumbing piece. He craned his neck to see them, and Nicky had the irrational urge to grin like an idiot. Instead, she stepped over his legs, put her supplies on the counter, and then bent to say hello.

Jason blinked. "Hey." He frowned. "Did I forget something?"

Nicky bit down the tongue-in-cheek response that he'd forgotten a lot and simply smiled. "I brought the stuff for pizza."

His eyes lit up. "You making it?"

"Yep." Nicky held out a hand and pulled him to his feet after he wiggled out of the cabinet. She glanced around and realized that Aaron and Marta had stepped back outside. "It's your birthday," she said gently. "I know how much you like homemade pizza."

Jason stared at her for a long moment, his emotions hidden well but still peeking out. He hated mention of the amnesia even if he dealt with it on a regular basis. "Thanks," he said awkwardly.

Nicky smiled and let go of his hand. "I brought stuff for two huge pizzas. You can make one, and Aaron can choose the toppings for the other."

Jason nodded. "We're putting in the sink, but I'll help after that."

Nicky agreed and watched as Aaron carried that big box inside while Marta followed excitedly. All traces of exhaustion had faded from the virologist's face, and Nicky knew she'd made the right call. Not only had Jason needed to remember his real birthday—not the one the CIA gave him when he became Jason Bourne—but Marta had relaxed and decided to enjoy the day.

The next several minutes were spent watching the two men install the farmhouse sink. A spot had been left cut out of the countertops, and it fit perfectly with the colors that Marta and Aaron had chosen. Nicky tipped her head to one side as Aaron quietly gave Jason instructions and the two wrestled the heavy sink in place. She caught the sparkle in Marta's eyes and grinned. So she wasn't the only woman in the house checking out the men.

All too soon, the guys finished and declared their work for the day complete. With water restored and everything in the kitchen finally in working order, Jason dashed upstairs to clean up, and Aaron disappeared. Nicky suspected he'd done the same thing, but she couldn't be certain until he reappeared in clean clothes, his hair still spiking a bit in the front. In the meantime, she pulled out bell peppers, onions, fresh mushrooms, tomatoes, black olives, pepperoni, Italian sausage, Parmesan cheese, and mozzarella cheese. She liked using fresh ingredients in her pizza, so the cheese needed grating. With the sauce again simmering on the back burner, she began putting together the dough and teaching Marta her secret for perfect pizza crust. After setting the dough to rise, she began cutting up the vegetables and preparing the cheese. Marta crumbled the Italian sausage in a pan and began browning it.

The kitchen really made a huge impact on the house. When Nicky had first arrived, it had seemed outdated and somewhat out of step with the rest of the work Aaron had done. Having the ancient wallpaper removed, new cabinets installed, and that wonderful sink made things so much easier. She had just finished slicing the bell peppers and had moved on to the onions when Jason startled her. He'd come downstairs and into the kitchen so silently she hadn't heard him. He reached across her to swipe a pinch of cheese that she'd shredded, and his closeness stilled her hands.

He smelled incredible. Whether it was his soap or aftershave or actual cologne, she caught a whiff of it and blinked. Memories of their time in Paris came back, particularly one night after a mission gone badly, and she had to push away the hurt that it stirred. Jason didn't remember it. He couldn't know what his nearness did to her or how she couldn't forget him no matter how she tried.

Laughter nearby distracted her, and she turned as Aaron and Marta shared some private joke. Jason leaned against the counter nearby. "This could get awkward," he said quietly.

Nicky snorted, thinking that things had already become awkward. "You have no idea."

They managed to get the pizzas into the oven without incident. Aaron and Marta occasionally slipped into their own worlds, but they were the perfect hosts. Marta seemed completely at home in the house, and it showed just how deep their relationship really was. Nicky sat at the table and munched on leftover veggies while she watched Aaron tease Marta about not knowing how to tile. Jason sat with her, and she turned to face him. He had a serious expression on his face, though his gaze stayed on Marta and Aaron. After a few moments, he spoke. "I'm thinking of asking if I can rent his guest house."

Nicky blinked. "There's a guest house?"

"Yeah." Jason stood and motioned for her to follow him. She trailed behind as he took her outside and around, showing her the house and explaining his ideas. She liked his thoughts for the guest house, though she couldn't help smiling at the irony. He might not remember everything about their relationship, but he'd managed to mentally redesign the guest house into the flat they'd shared in Paris. She took it as a sign that his memory might return. And that scared her. If he remembered and didn't want a relationship with her. . . .She pushed away that thought as they went back to the main house.

Conversation was comfortable as the four ate dinner. Nicky watched Aaron and Marta hold hands. They were very comfortable with showing affection openly, and it highlighted the differences between Aaron and Jason. Part of her mind—the psychologist—wondered how Aaron had retained his natural propensity for affection when it had been drilled out of Jason. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore and asked, "How'd you two meet?"

The look that passed between them was laden with questions, meaning, and an unspoken conversation. Finally, Aaron met her eyes. "Outcome," he said softly. "She was my doctor."

Nicky saw Jason's quick glance out of the corner of her eye and wondered what it meant. Instead, she ignored it as Marta took up the story. Nicky listened as the pair switched off in telling how Aaron had saved Marta from a kill squad sent to her home and kept her safe while Marta helped Aaron viral off his medications. Why Aaron needed to viral off of the chems rather than returning to his pre-Outcome condition was another conversation for another day. Nicky kept things light, choosing to focus on the good times Aaron and Marta talked about. Their journey as a couple had been no less dangerous than Nicky's own, and she didn't want to dampen the mood of the day.

Finally, after dinner was eaten and the kitchen cleaned, Jason appeared at her side. "Got a few minutes to take a walk?"

"Sure." Nicky held back the frisson of concern that skittered down her spine and followed him out the door. For the first block, they walked in silence, enjoying the early summer evening and smiling at the laughter of children playing at a park several blocks away. Every now and then, a car passed, but the street was quiet and idyllic. But something wasn't right. Jason's request was more than a casual invitation to walk off dinner, and she couldn't help waiting for the other shoe to drop. Had he remembered something? Or was she going to have to pry it out of him?

He decided to drop that shoe. "What were we?"

Nicky froze. "What do you mean?"

"Before." He faced her, frustration warring with sincere confusion in his eyes. "Before I lost my memory and left. What were we."

"Jason, I asked you. . . ."

"I need to know," he interrupted.

Nicky's stomach turned, and she suddenly regretted eating that last piece of pizza. "It's not important," she said quickly. Hopefully, he'd let it go at that. "Not really." She turned to walk back to Aaron and Marta's, but he reached out and stopped her with a quick hand on her arm.

"It's important to me."

His quiet words caused her stomach to knot up, making the queasy feeling from moments ago even worse. "Jason. . . ." She could hear the pleading in her voice and hated it.

He lowered his voice, his tone tight with frustration. "Just answer the question!"

Nicky stared at him for a long moment, wondering where this demand came from. The last time they'd talked about "them," she'd asked him to leave it alone, and he'd been more than happy to do just that. What had changed? Or, rather, what was he trying to change? He wouldn't back down, not like this, and she didn't have the strength to really keep fighting. Instead, she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him to her, and kissed him hard.

oOo

Jason was unprepared for Nicky's kiss, and he instinctively stiffened before giving in. His arms went around her waist, and he returned the favor before she could pull away. He knew this wasn't the kind of kiss shared between lovers. There was too much anger and hurt and passion for that, but it all seemed familiar to him. Like his dreams, which made him that much more intense.

Nicky finally pulled back, tears in her eyes as she clenched her fists in his shirt front. "That's what we were!" she said, a bit breathless. "Happy now?"

Before Jason could stop her, she slipped out of his arms and stormed away, her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she headed back to Aaron's home. Her entire demeanor told him not to follow her even though he wanted nothing more than to drag her back to his side and explain why he'd asked. Before he could give in to that instinct, a sharp pain went through his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut. It didn't let up, and he staggered.

"Hey, buddy, you okay?" The friendly male voice startled Jason, and he blinked at one of Aaron's neighbors. The man had two boys, ages five and seven nearby, and looked military.

"Yeah." Jason tried to brush off the pain, but it only intensified. He had felt these headaches before, usually at night and never in public.

The guy next to him turned to the kids. "Go on home. Tell your mom I'll be there soon."

The oldest nodded, his expression doubtful. "Okay."

The man put his hand on Jason's shoulder. "Here. Sit down for a minute."

Jason complied while studying the guy. Standing about Jason's height, he was stocky with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. The evening sun caught on the chain around his neck, and Jason nodded at it in an attempt to distract himself. "You military?"

"Yeah." The guy stuck out his hand. "Air Force. Name's Evan."

Jason shook his hand. "Jason. Army." He blinked through the headache as he gave just his first name, knowing he didn't need the hassle of this guy reacting to his current identity. "Do I know you?"

Evan shook his head. "Don't think so. I'm stationed overseas and barely got back yesterday. My wife and kids settled here while I was gone." He eyed Jason. "Seriously. You okay?"

"Yeah." Jason pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, thankful the pain was starting to fade. "Just. . .old memories."

Evan nodded knowingly, but Jason knew the man saw through the cover. It was all he had. As he'd sat there, he'd remembered little things. Nicky's hair tickling his nose in the morning. The way she smiled when he stared at her. How she'd looked the first time they'd gone to dinner in Paris. The frustration on her face every time Conklin sent him on back-to-back missions. It helped his dreams—no, he corrected himself, flashbacks—make sense, but it also created some pretty conflicted emotions. He'd loved Marie, but he'd also loved Nicky. And being around her was helping him remember that.

Finally, he pushed himself to his feet. "Thanks for stopping."

Evan met his eyes. "Look, you need anyone to talk to, let me know." He nodded toward a stately home. "I'm staying there until the military decides where to send me."

Jason agreed with a nod and headed back for Aaron's house, not sure if he'd take the guy up on the offer. He appreciated Evan for stopping, but he wished this little revelation had waited until he was back at home.

Why had he pushed Nicky now? Because he wanted answers, and seeing Aaron and Marta flirting with each other made him wonder if he and Nicky had once been like that. He'd needed to understand these dreams he'd been having, but he'd gone about it the wrong way.

Knowing he'd have to make it up to Nicky somehow, he blinked away the residual headache and finished his walk in silence.

oOo

Marta realized things had not gone well when Nicky reappeared without Jason. The other woman's face was red, and she slammed directly into the bathroom behind Aaron's office. Rather than following her, she allowed Aaron to continue teaching her how to tile. They'd accomplished a bit of work, though not as much as Marta had wanted. But it was too much fun to flirt with Aaron and see his face light up as he laughed and teased back.

The evening ended a short time later when, after he returned, Jason admitted he had a huge headache. The frustration and hurt on Nicky's face faded, and she seemed to accept that he needed some quiet and a cool cloth to help. Marta regretfully left Aaron with the job of tiling the backsplash and gathered up the remains of their cooking. She followed Nicky out the door and, once in the car, couldn't keep her questions to herself. "What happened?"

Nicky shook her head. "Jason," she said simply. "I asked him to leave something alone, and he didn't."

Marta didn't question her further. Nicky put off an intense "don't go there" vibe that Marta refused to ignore. Instead, she looked out the window and smiled. "Thanks," she said. "For the idea to come out."

Nicky's anger softened as they left the neighborhood behind. "You're welcome."

No other conversation passed between the two women as they drove back to Chicago. Marta kept her mind focused on how good the evening had been for her, and she found herself imagining dinners cooked in that kitchen with candlelight coming from the dining room. Her dreams of settling with Aaron were slowly being revived, and she was surprised to realize that she really could see herself in that house.

Back in Chicago, she unlocked her apartment door and slipped inside with several empty canvas sacks draped over her arm. Nicky carried the big pot she'd used for the marinara sauce. The two women had barely cleared the door when the fear slammed into Marta. She stiffened, her eyes going around the entire house. She couldn't explain how she knew, but she did.

Someone had been in her house. And they'd left something behind.

~TBC