A/N Okay, I decided to play around with this one a little more. Let me know your thoughts!

As Ian tore into the bullpen, every agent frantically made themselves scarce or buried their head into their desk. Even Colby and David suddenly became very interested in Charlie's latest mathematical solution. The legendary sniper was usually calm and collected, but today, the anger was rolling off him in waves.

Don had tried unsuccessfully for over an hour to get Ian to talk about the woman in the mountains, but he gave up out of self preservation when Ian shot him a look making it clear Don was about to find himself thrown out of a moving vehicle. As Don trailed behind Ian, he shrugged his shoulders as his two agents shot him a questioning stare.

Ian slipped into the locker room and a quick glare sent the two agents in there scurrying out. He began pacing the short distance between the lockers, his mind jumping all over the place, buried memories clawing their way to the surface.

Ian's fist made contact with the metal locker, the sound reverberating in the tiny room. It did little to distract him. How the hell had he not seen it, seen traces of HER on that mountain. He had trained her for God sakes. Memories of being pressed up against her back, helping to adjust her stance as she raised her rifle trickled past his well built defenses.

Ian's head came to rest against the cool metal of the lockers. It unnerved him to acknowledge how deeply she was embedded under his skin. He had reacted on instinct when Don had raised his weapon at her, stepping in front of her without a second thought. Shit, he hadn't even see her in what was it, 5 years now? He had built up as many walls as he could after he cut ties with the Agency and walked away from her. Ian remembered how he threw himself back into his work with the FBI, going from hunt to hunt, occasionally stopping to blow off some steam with a woman who he would meet in a bar, and then going right back to it. He had buried her so deep that she shouldn't be able to have this effect on him after all this time.

But that smirk? It was his undoing. He nearly snarled and he sunk his teeth into his lower lip at the thought of wiping that smirk right off that porcelain face and replacing it with something entirely different as she came undone against a shower wall, hands pressed hard against the shower glass with him behind her placing kisses against her neck as be brought her over the edge again and again. He let his breath out in a whistle as he ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back against the locker as he allowed himself just a moment to relish the memory.

Ian hated to admit it but he was actually startled as the door to the locker room came crashing open, his head whipped violently around to stare down the intruder only to roll his eyes. Eppes. Of course it was Eppes, he couldn't just let this go could he.

"What do you want Don" he asked lazily.

"What do I? Seriously Ian, what do I want?" Don spat out. "We're up in the middle of God damn nowhere and some chick takes out McHugh, only to have the best tracker in the FBI step in front and let her get away?

"Aw Eppes I'm flattered."

Don rolled his eyes and Ian's wiseass grin. "Come on man, you owe me something."

"That's where you're wrong Eppes, I don't owe you anything. Let it go."

Ian's nochalant attitutude was starting to get the better of Don who was getting agitated again. "You mean to tell me I should just let a CIA agent operating on US soil go?"

Ian looked at Don incredulously. "We're you born yesterday Eppes?" Ian's eyebrows raised though his voice didn't. "You got a call from the director. You think that would have happened if they didn't have some kind of sign off for whatever the fuck that was back there on the mountain? You think you're entitled to some kind of explanation? You really think you're that high up the food chain huh?"

Ian stood up and sauntered toward the door throwing over his shoulder "and the CIA label was your words not mine."

When he didn't get the expected retort from Don he glanced back to see Don had gone still, a look of realization creeping onto his face. "You love her don't you?"

and fuck...Ian wasn't expecting that one. Was it really that easy to see? After all these years he thought he would hide it better.

Ian slowly closed the door he had been about to walk through. The bolt made a resounding thud as Ian locked the door. "As much as you can love a tornado Eppes" said Ian curtly.

Ian turned toward the younger man and raised his arms in a shrug, inviting Don to speak.

Don looked slightly concerned at the fact he was now essentially trapped with the FBI's go to sniper in a locked room after he had the audacity to allege Ian might actually have feelings. Ian struggled with being smug at Don's reaction and being slightly hurt to think that after all this time the AIC would consider Ian a threat to his person. But Ian knew the name of the game. In his line of work, being feared was a good thing. And it helped keep people at arms length. People that got to close had a way of getting hurt. A little fear was healthy, even a sign of respect for someone like him. But it still bothered him to see that fear, fleeting as it was, cross Don's face.

"I get I may not get an answer on what just went down. But we're friends man. You can talk to me about whats up with you. It stays here. Who is she?"

Were they friends? It wasn't a term Ian was used to hearing or bestowing. His life was pretty solitary. But Ian could admit he had a certain fondness for team Eppes and a certain curly haired professor who trailed after them. They had been nothing but welcoming to him even though Charlie had taken a hot minute to come around. And Ian could respect Don as a leader. He wasn't one of those cookie cutter agents. Come to think of it, Eppes and his team were probably the closest people Ian could call "friends" at the moment. Seeing her again and turned Ian's brain and stomach into knots. He knew he was looking at either going back to his crappy hotel and getting wasted, tracking down that shrink the FBI made him see occasionally, or sorting out the mess in his head with Eppes.

"Well this might take a while."